#Notary Hotel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zvhiux34 · 15 days ago

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Pairing: König x virgin reader.

W.c: 3.4 k.

warnings: +18 Smut with fluff. Age gap+10 years (She 18yo, König 30yo). P in v, apparent consent, rough sex no protection, riding, oral sex (female reiciving) creampie, briefly descriptions of bodies, mentions of scars. Pet names, not mentions of yn, Praise kink. English it's not my first languge.

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7. Pt.8

What a treasure to have found you.

This last week everything had been so surreal.

Today you married König in a civil ceremony at a notary office in the city where you eloped. Since your papers were left at your parents' house, the soldier proceeded to make a couple of calls.

—I hace certain contacts, darling, don't worry bout' that—He assure you and then kiss your forehead.

And you got your original papers in a flash.

You let out a giggle as you remembered in detail how König stared at you when he saw you in the short white dress he bought you, and the way he kissed you so effusively that it made the witnesses and the judge who marked the act blush.

After celebrating the union with a dinner, both of you went to the hotel room that he had reserved for the two of you.

When he closed the door to the dimly lit space, he approached you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. In your mind you remembered how he looked at you enraptured despite the noticeable bruise on your cheek, which had already disappeared, and gently caressed the non-existent trace with his thumb.

—You have no idea how beautiful you are—He whispered to you in a hoarse voice that weakened your legs, while he shortened the distance—And I would like to check if what I imagined in my dreams...—He kissed your cheek—...resembles what exists in reality.

Something inside you shuddered as your biggest questions were confirmed.

All those moments where others ceased to exist, those moments where you became the apple of your blue eyes, the moments where your soul felt exposed to König's inspecting gaze... He also imagined the same thing as you.

And now he was going to show you.

König took your lips with his, his movements demanding and incessant on you while he imprisoned his strong arm around your waist, and the other shamelessly felt the curvature of your body.

You surrounded him with your arms so as not to free yourself from that prison, and you felt a wave of shivers run down your spine when you felt his hip next to yours, the soldier released a growl on your mouth at the delicious closeness.

You opened your mouth, delighted, feeling the intrusion of his tongue, you could taste the nectar of the champagne and you debated the cause of the intoxicating effect on you.

While his arm held you against him, the other hand took the zipper of your dress, and even though you had already imagined the scenario many times, that did not mitigate the nervousness you had inside you, less when he began to slide the zipper down.

You took a little courage, you let the only fabric that separated your body from his slide down your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

König laid his eyes on your figure, the scene was better than you could dream... He looked at you as one only looks at some of the wonders that exist in this world, a mesmerizing sight for sore eyes.

For a moment you felt self-conscious, you wanted to run away...

But on the other hand, you didn't want his icy blue eyes to stop their journey over you.

Nor the powerful feeling he gave you.

Nor the exciting heat that was born from your belly when you were totally exposed to the man who was capable of giving everything for you.

—You are beautiful, princess... —His warm hands came into contact with your bare skin, you noticed his short breath on you—Better than anyone could imagine.

He approached you, looking at you with chilling and fierce eyes.

—And you are totally mine.

König caught you again in an invasive and wet kiss.

—Only mine —He whispered on your mouth.

His clothes began to be a hindrance for you, and you clumsily helped him unbutton each button while he guided you to the bed, in the end the soldier literally tore off what was left of his clothes.

You witnessed the strong, yet battered body that König kept under his clothes.

Being the first time you saw his naked torso, you noticed that he was right when he told you that he had received wounds worse than those inflicted by your father, the extensive scars on his muscles were the cruel proof.

A battle was unleashed inside you, you felt the compulsion to caress his scars, and kiss away the pain he felt in every fight where he was close to death.

But at the same time, you didn't want him to stop feeling his lips on yours or for him to stop caressing you on the bed where he placed you. You felt his weight on you like a delicious friction that you longed for more of.

The soldier began to drag his mouth to the length of your neck, finding an ideal spot when he noticed that it sent a wave of shivers through your body at his touch, while he slid a calloused hand stealthily over the soft flesh of your chest, taking it delicately and kneading it without mercy on you, who began to writhe beneath him, to repeat the action with your other pair.

—I wanted to do this to you since the first night you spent in my apartment —He confessed on your skin, then took the soft button and caressed it with his tongue.

—Mmm, are you sure? —You inquired, König looked up and saw your playful smile between two blushed cheeks, you ignored the other hand whose fingers had already reached the edge of your hips.

—You're right —He corrected—...I wanted to do this since I met you, princess.

—Hum, I knew you will- ah—You let out a moan as you felt a finger enter you, completely unprepared, and he looked back at you, triumphant, as he began to gently move the intrusive finger in your sensitive walls.

All of this was so new to you, König raised his gaze to observe every reaction on your face with his longing eyes, and suddenly it occurred to him that maybe... Just maybe...

—Has anyone ever... touched you... like now? —He asked about your mouth, you opened your eyes, and noticed the first drops of sweat appear on his forehead and how his skin, as hot as yours, acquired a pinkish tone.

—N-no—You confessed—No one has ever... touched me he-ah ngh— You felt another finger enter you, stimulating the heat in your belly even more.

König exhale at his realization.

—That... makes me... the first?

You breathed for a second.

—Yes —You brought your hand up to caress his cheek—You're the first... to take me to bed—You admitted, now a little embarrased.

The soldier who had you in his arms stayed still for a second, you thought you perceived some surprise in him, like when you find something and discover that it was better than you thought.

—If that's so...—His cheeky tone awakened your anxious side. He focused his attention back on your neck, bringing his lips closer to your new favorite spot — I'll be happy to taught you.

You didn't know the power that two fingers had to make you shudder, until König moved his slowly and circularly inside your never-before-explored places, encouraging the heat of your core to reach unknown limits, making you emit delicate sounds from the depths of your being that were equivalent to a sweet melody to his ears.

König's lips caught your other flesh button, seeing it, you brought your fingers and caressed his scalp... until you felt the third finger enter.

—Ah!

Instinctively, you grabbed his back before the imminent wave of pleasure that sent to the rest of your body, while the soldier occasionally abandoned the flesh button to stifle your sweet moans on his mouth, claiming you, along with the incessant exploration of his phalanxes.

—You are so good—He murmured on your sensitive skin, which you longed to know his breath on again—So good, and so strong, you deserve all the good things existing in this world.

The soldier increased the speed of his tortuous administrations a little, you raised your hips by instinct to receive them gladly.

—Soon, soon—He assured you when noticing the growing anxiety in you, almost breathless—I make you feel good? All I want is that —He whispered over you— Verbalize it with your beautiful mouth.

—Yes, yes —You assured, impatient, you took his face with your small hands—But don't stop, please.

You supposed your excitement and the effect of your trembling voice on him took effect when you felt the length of his emotion on your leg.

But you felt you were already very close to reaching climax, when suddenly König removed his fingers from you which were wet, you let out a small grunt at the resentment of his absence.

But you understood the reason when he slid his boxers down his hips.

It was the first time you saw a naked man, but you knew that very few would reach the splendor of the soldier in front of you.

You saw his length you felt near your leg before, and König laughed lightly at the sight of your flushed cheeks, and then regained the closeness of your bodies, you noticed that the warm cloud inside you had not diminished one bit.

—Don't worry, princess... I'll make you feel good —He managed to tell you, to proceed to kiss you, hungerly.

You had wondered what it would be like... and now that you had him so close, you wondered what you would have to do to make him feel as good as you, but you understood König would take the lead, as always, when he positioned himself in front of you.

For a moment you felt a small wave of fear, you knew by his size it was going to hurt, despite the previous preparation.

But you pushed those thoughts aside, you decided you were going to receive everything the soldier gave you as you have done all this time, with love.

—You have to tell me if it hurts —He warned you in your ear, you nodded as you felt him insert his tip millimeter by millimeter inside you—The same goes if you don't feel satisfied.

You saw how his muscles flexed as he leaned in, while you felt your walls burn as they slowly came into contact with his length.

But the rest of your body still didn't accept him, he was too big, too thick for your insides, and the soldier realized it from the moment you shed your first tears, tears he kissed away to comfort you.

—Shh shh, calm down princess

—König, I...—For a moment you were in anguish, at the possibility that he couldn't get in, at the possibility that he would get upset with you.

—Don't worry, I'll fix it —He assured you.

Suddenly the soldier came out of you, and then you witnessed how he positioned your legs on his broad shoulders.

—König...? What are you goin-Ah!

You couldn't believe it until you felt the contact of his tongue.

If he could see you right now, he would witness your face full of mortification.

You remembered the conversations of your friends, and how several of them described the disgust that gave them what this man was now doing between your legs.

You grabbed a bunch of sheet before the wave of spasms coming from your belly, you felt how the soldier imitated with his tongue the same path he made with his fingers.

From his position, he reached your flesh button to caress it. The shudder hit you as hard as you had never felt before, while you processed the idea you realized König had already positioned himself in the previous position.

«How much time had passed?»

—Eyes on me, princess.

You felt your cavity, wetter than before, slowly receiving all of his length, the soldier's attentive and hungry eyes were fixed on yours, open, while you assimilated the new sensation on you...

It hurt less than before, but now your body was in tune with you, now you had received him completely in body... and soul.

Upon noticing the positive reception, the soldier placed his strong hands on your waist to reassure you, and began the slow swing, back and forth, back and forth... Movements to get you more accustomed to his way.

You perceived by the soldier's face he was holding back, then you wrapped your legs around his hips, in an attempt to get him to understand the message, which was successful.

—Move with me—he told you.

König, taking you by surprise, increased the speed of the swing effortlessly.

Although you couldn't expect less from a soldier as strong as the one who was taking you.

Now he had reached a point inside you that overwhelmed you, you let your body take you to the place where he wanted to take you.

—You like it... right? —König asked you, with a broken voice— Ah, you feel so good.

—König— You cried— Please... more.

And when you realized, the atmosphere was already impregnated with the moans of both, and the sound of skins colliding with each other, the sensation of pleasure hit you like you didn't know it could...

And from what you saw on the soldier's face, the feeling was reciprocal, but despite the wave of pleasure, you felt like your body couldn't take any more.

Realizing that, König lifted your legs to continue pounding again, again, and again at a faster pace, the position only deepened the union you feel inside, tearing so many moans from you...

—You're close...just like me, right? —He inquired, with a shameless smile—Cum for me, kätzchen, let yourself go.

And suddenly the doors swung open and you let yourself be released with a sobbing moan.

König held you in the same position as he continued to thrust, until he reached his peak and came out accompanied by a grunt, pouring the result on your belly.

You witnessed the act with your little strength, amazed.

You wondered how it would feel if the soldier had finished inside you.

Having finished until the last drop, König lay down and brought you on top of him, placing small kisses on your cheek, while both of you were still panting for air.

—It's okay...I'm here— He murmured, combing your hair with his fingers, while you were still panting—You did it so well princess, I'm very proud of you.

Your eyes filled with tears, you couldn't tell if it was because of the orgasm or his words.

After some minutes, you limited yourself to drawing imaginary lines with a finger on his vast, strong chest.

Contrary to your thoughts, after a while König got up and went to the bathroom, you heard the sound of water running from the bed, until the soldier returned and carried you without difficulty to gently place you in the bathtub, where he then got in and positioned himself behind, to clean you with his own hands.

The warm water on your skin was an elixir for your body, although you had long since stopped feeling pain.

—Did you...like it?—The soldier questioned, now in a more delicate tone than before.

You blushed for a moment, for you it was one thing to answer it during the excitement of love-making...

And other thing to answer it afterwards, right at the most sensitive moment.

—Yes... I liked it a lot—You admitted in a shy tone.

But the soldier only limited himself to nodding, and tenderly kissing the skin of your shoulder, while he held you close to him.

Instead, you turned to look at him, with a raised eyebrow.

—And you?—You didn't expect to ask the question, but you already had—Did you like it?

You knew you couldn't compare your performance with a more experienced woman, you just let yourself be guided and feel, but curiosity was latent.

König, on the other hand, didn't think much before answering.

—Of course, you witnessed how much— He drew an imaginary circle where minutes before he had poured his seed, which made you laugh because of the tickling.

After your first bath together, you both slept quietly on the bed. But you slept for a couple of hours at most, when you had an idea coming from your recently discovered desire.

König slept face up and naked next to you, you approached him and put your head quietly on his chest.

While you listened to his heartbeat, your hand slid down his abdomen, until you reached your destination.

You took his length, and after meditating for a few seconds, you began to go up and down, down and up, and placed your lips on his.

—König—You called him, the soldier only moved a little bit—I want to give you more—You mumbled on his mouth—...Don't you want more?

You feel his manhood getting hard under your fingers at the same time König slowly came out of his sleep, to determine the origin of the pleasure he felt in his lower hip.

—Mmm... So.... the kitten wants to play, huh?—He muttered quietly, you continued moving your hand until you managed to get your target to stand upright, you caressed the tip with your thumb, which caused him to stifle a moan.

Suddenly, he placed one hand on your thigh and another on your back, managing to change the position with a turn so that you were now face down, totally at his mercy.

The soldier, noticing that you didn't need foreplay and seeing he was already at his point, entered in a single push, making you groan.

—You asked for it, kätzchen —He muttered hoarsely in your ear, and began to swing on you, now with less delicacy than before.

But you liked it.

From within you, your primal side desire for him to use you as a means to reach his limit.

You wrapped your legs around him, snatching a growl from his mouth as the soldier pounding you, he puts his hand right there to move it in circles. You felt your interior receive him pleasantly as you grew wetter and wetter.

—Oh, König.

—You're a good girl...kätzchen —He assures you, almost breathless—You are receiving me so well...better than you though.

You feel a hand on your thigh and another on your back, and the soldier pulled you closer as he sat down.

His length remained throbbing inside you, as the soldier looked at you with hungry eyes, placing his hands on your waist, you put your arms around him, while you looked at him lovingly.

Little by little, König guided your movements on him, you had to make an effort not to melt, because with this new posotion he kissed the point inside you that emanated waves of pleasure to the rest of your body.

—Felts good, König.

You begin to swing more, more and more, to the point where both of you claim the air around you as you feel the orgasm growing inside of you.

—You're so warm...and tight—He assured taking your lips and dragging you into a wet kiss— You're so good to me...I want to care of you...I'll never leave your side.

The soldier thrust a particular spot on you that made you shiver, sensing it, he continued to hit it as you felt your walls tighten around him, not wanting to let him go.

—Look... at me when you cum...kätzchen

You feel his muscles tense under your fingertips, as he cups your ass with his hands, helping you to intensify the thrust.

—Köni-ghn I feel...Ah!.

Your eyes lock onto his as the climax hits you violently, the soldier tightening the grip of his arms around you as he growls.

You feel your core receive his warm seed, marveling at the sensation.

The soldier found a place to place his kisses in the crook of your neck while you held him close to you...

Then, he laid you down on the bed, and made his own trail of kisses until he reached your abdomen, which until a few days ago was covered in bruises... now he covering it with kisses, while you recovered from the overwhelming and lunatic hustle and bustle of a moment ago.

When he finished, you let his head rest on your chest, König let out a long sigh at the contact of your fingers caressing his scalp.

—Thank you...— You barely heard him, you wondered the reason for his gratitude, but at this moment words were unnecessary, so you placed a small kiss on his forehead, and you witnessed how his eyelids slowly closed.

You thanked heaven for not dying that night... and for witnessing how this ferocious man turn into a helpless creature beneath your hands.

But not to use him, just to take care of him and make sure he wasn't alone, because from now on he has you.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Masterlist. 2024-11-02

#konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig x you #call of duty #fluff #könig cod #cod mw2 #könig mw2 #könig x reader #konig cod

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pilferingapples · 2 months ago

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you can tell most people tell jokes about the digressions without reading the book because they complain about Waterloo, which has battles and plot-essential character development and obvious themes, and not Argot, which has , uh this:

“My shooting-iron,” the cavalry-man who says: “My turkey-cock,” the fencing-master who says: “Tierce, quarte, break,” the printer who says: “My shooting-stick and galley,”—all, printer, fencing-master, cavalry dragoon, infantry-man, phrenologist, huntsman, philosopher, comedian, playwright, sheriff, gambler, stock-broker, and merchant, speak slang. The painter who says: “My grinder,” the notary who says: “My Skip-the-Gutter,” the hairdresser who says: “My mealyback,” the cobbler who says: “My cub,” talks slang. Strictly speaking, if one absolutely insists on the point, all the different fashions of saying the right and the left, the sailor’s port and starboard, the scene-shifter’s court-side, and garden-side, the beadle’s Gospel-side and Epistle-side, are slang. There is the slang of the affected lady as well as of the précieuses. The Hotel Rambouillet nearly adjoins the Cour des Miracles. There is a slang of duchesses, witness this phrase contained in a love-letter from a very great lady and a very pretty woman of the Restoration: “You will find in this gossip a fultitude of reasons why I should libertize.” Diplomatic ciphers are slang; the pontifical chancellery by using 26 for Rome, grkztntgzyal for despatch, and abfxustgrnogrkzu tu XI. for the Duc de Modena, speaks slang. The physicians of the Middle Ages who, for carrot, radish, and turnip, said Opoponach, perfroschinum, reptitalmus, dracatholicum, angelorum, postmegorum, talked slang. The sugar-manufacturer who says: “Loaf, clarified, lumps, bastard, common, burnt,”—this honest manufacturer talks slang. A certain school of criticism twenty years ago, which used to say: “Half of the works of Shakespeare consists of plays upon words and puns,”—talked slang.

yeah it's about slang

the whole chapter

#Les Mis Letters #Argot #SCREAM

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onboardsorasora · 8 months ago

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Sorry this took so long @mael-talks-too-much !

Hidden pregnancy au pt 1 | Part 3

Daniel pulled on one of Lewis’ pre-scented tshirts while he walked into the living room to the chaos unfolding. Having the guys over to help them get settled had been the best and worst decision of his life.

Lewis had to make up for all of the engagements he cancelled at the last minute at the GP and so he’d been in and out while they settled in a new hotel room in the middle of Melbourne.

Scotty had immediately offered to help watch Ava while Daniel handled the logistics of both moving to Monaco and following Lewis along to the grands prix. That had been fine by him, Blake had nodded that it was a good idea, an extra set of eyes and hands for the rambunctious infant who seemed to jump to a new level of active since she bonded with her alpha daddy.

Daniel never knew his nipples could be this sore.

Ava was growing, and moving and shaking and attempting to roll over because she was already addicted to the happy sounds and smells of Lewis when she breathed in his general direction. Well, she got the peacocking gene down.

Daniel side stepped the play area set up in the living room to warm a bottle.

“Good girl Ava!” Miles’ voice carried as he cheered, “Of course I expected no less from my goddaughter.”

“Whoa whoa bud, remember Daniel already agreed that I’m her godfather.” Scotty piped up and Daniel heard Blake’s groan and he laughed because that was also a new problem they had.

Miles and Scotty were determined to be the godfather and won’t accept the both of them sharing the honour.

It really didn’t matter though, because in the end, Ava’s godfather was Blake. Blake was there with him every step of the way, the hard days and long nights. Blake was the first to hold her because Daniel had been too out of it on meds for his arms to work right.

Plus there was paperwork and notaries involved.

The door beeped open just as Daniel was satisfied with the temperature of the bottle and Lewis grinned as the door closed behind him. The suite smelt like Pack.

“Hey.” Daniel kissed his cheek and Lewis leaned in for another peck on the lips. Daniel handed over the bottle in his hand and Lewis’ eyes lit up. He enjoyed feedings because it was a moment to bond with Ava. He loved how her big eyes stayed on him the entire time while he whispered his love.

“Are they arguing again?” Lewis shook his head as the now familiar refrains washed over him.

“When are they never?” Blake pointed out. Lewis merely laughed and walked into the living room to scoop his cooing daughter up and away from the squabbling of her uncles.

— - —

Lewis looked down at the precious bundle in his arms, she cooed at him around her fist, blinking up with brown eyes identical to his. He’d always thought he understood the term ‘heart outside your body’ because that’s how he felt about Roscoe and Coco. Losing Coco had been like losing a part of him.

Ava was his literal pride and joy. She was the child he never knew he wanted or had but now that she was here, she had already wrapped her little tanned arms around his heart and she was never letting her go.

He shifted the sleeve of her outfit, the purple onesie a miniature version of his shirt. Daniel had giggled when the package had come from Dior, before teasingly asking how many back up outfits were also sent.

“We showed your mama haven’t we?” Lewis murmured, leaning over to kiss Ava’s forehead. Well sue him for wanting daddy daughter outfits, they hadn’t had one spit up incident yet. He looked up to see Daniel talking animatedly with the nurse, handing over the paperwork that would intake Ava as their new patient here in Monaco.

There was the sharp odor of bile and Lewis chuckled to see the once pristine onesie covered in spit up. Daniel said nothing when he walked over, merely handing the package of wipes with a smug grin.

“All good?” Lewis nodded to the front desk, eager to distract.

“Yeah, they're gonna like check back with the pediatrician in Perth but we should be good for her to get her shots today.”

“What if she cries?” Lewis pulled Ava closer, that was his big fear– that she would be terrified.

“She didn’t cry the last time. Its over pretty quickly normally.” Daniel shrugged. He’d cried the last time, seeing the scary needle going into her arm had maybe traumatized him.

“You just have to like promise to not attack the nurses. They might ask you to sign a waiver apparently.”

“What?”

“She said it's standard procedure, alpha dads get…. mean.”

“I’m not gonna attack a nurse.”

“I never said you were, I’m just telling you what they told me.” Daniel bit back his smile at Lewis’ put out expression, some would even call it a pout.

“Ava Hamilton?” A nurse called and the pair stood. Lewis exhaled out his anxiety, it would be fine.

The doctor’s office was pretty standard with charts and a table. Lewis was instructed to sit on a chair by the table while their doctor looked over Ava’s vitals.

She fussed a little at the chill of the stethoscope but otherwise she submitted to the shifting and poking of the older beta’s fingers.

“She’s a cutie, and perfectly healthy. Good job mom and dad.” Lewis looked up at Daniel with a grin, seeing the happiness reflected in honey eyes at being told they’re doing a good job.

The part Lewis dreaded was up next, he watched as the nurse set up the syringe. And tensed when she came over. With Lewis’ help, she got Ava’s shoulder out of her onesie and wiped it down with antiseptic.

“It won’t be so bad if you don’t look.” Daniel offered, resting a hand on Lewis’ shoulder. He looked over to lock eyes with Daniel and the nurse stuck the needle in while he was distracted. Ava jolted in his arms and made a noise but didn’t cry when Lewis looked at her swiftly.

“There all done!” The nurse said sweetly, grinning at Daniel to thank him.

“You tricked me?” Lewis grumbled, ignoring how the nurse chuckled.

“It worked didn’t it?” Daniel said shamelessly, cooing down at Ava over Lewis’ shoulder.

#dewis #lewis/daniel #hidden pregnancy au

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urbanrelics · 1 year ago

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CHATEAU ROLLS ROYCE

The castle domain was created in the late 18th century. The wealthy notary A.S. started construction of the castle in 1780, originally consisting of a classicist main building, which was symmetrically flanked at the front by two lower, 19th-century side wings and several outbuildings, including a beautiful and almost unique winter garden.

After the death of the notary, the property passed into the hands of his only son, who gave it significant added value by creating an English landscape garden. The surrounding park includes a pond with island and historic duck decoy, beautiful old woodland and a former ice house. When the son also died, the castle remained empty for a while. In 1831, the castle briefly served as the command post of Leopold I, first king of Belgium.

In 1859 the whole was sold to a baron, who used it as a summer residence. In 1909, a wealthy Antwerp banker buys the castle. He builds the two towers that flank the castle. The castle remained in the hands of this family until the mid-1950s. Today, the castle and park are owned by the Luxembourg real estate company, which wants to start a hotel there in the future.

In the urbex scene, this chateau was known as 'Chateau Rolls Royce', for many years, because of the beautiful blue Rolls Royce Silver Shadow. Rolls Royce built the Silver Shadow between 1965 and 1979. At the time, it was the most expensive and luxurious model introduced by Rolls Royce. This particular car was built in 1975 and was first registered in January 1976, as one of the last variants of the model. The colossus, weighing more than two tons, was more than 5 meters long, 1.80 meters wide and had a cylinder capacity of 6,750 CC. It reached a top speed of 205 km/h without much effort.

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umrahfamilypurwokerto · 4 months ago

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umrahfamilypurbalingga · 4 months ago

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Umrah Family merupakan entitas dari Ezkia Barokah Abadi yang berdiri pada 05 Februari 2016 sesuai Akta Pendirian yang disahkan oleh Notaris H.Ade Ardiansyah,S.H.,M.KN, perusahaan yang bergerak di bidang travel untuk menyelenggarakan Umrah dan Haji.Kami berkomitmen memberikan berbagai macam kemudahan kepada calon jama'ah untuk berangkat ke Tanah Suci.Mulai dari pendaftaran,cara pembayaran sampai persiapan keberangkatan umrah maupun haji.Seiring perkembangannya,Umrah Family akan selalu meningkatkan kualitas pelayanan jamaahnya agar khusu'saat menjalankan ibadah.insya Allah kami sahabat terbaik menuju Baitullah,Aman,Nyaman dan Terpercaya Untuk Keluarga Anda.Kami mempunyai visi : Memberikan Kemudahan berangkat umrah serta meningkatkan kemampuan financial untuk kesejahteraan agen syiar.dan Misi kami Dengan menjalankan support system yang telah teruji secara komprehensif dan didukung oleh Lembaga keuangan Syariah.MENGAPA HARUS UMRAH FAMILY???

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Umrah purbalingga, Travel Resmi Umrah purbalingga

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starry-mist · 9 months ago

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S5e12 thoughts:

Renee Hackett (Mary) and Kevin Hanchard are on fire in each of their scenes together. They play off each other incredibly well. I’m still looking for a way to watch her show What Odds on which he apparently guest starred. She’s so good.

Five seasons in, they’re finally doing an episode on sexual assault. I commend them for finally tackling that subject matter.

I do not commend Joe for being kind of a jerk with his “none of the allegations were proven” when the team talks about looking into the victims of the dead predator. Yes, Joe, we know, and this is why victims don’t come forward.

I felt they could have hit Sarah’s perspective as the only woman on the team a little harder. Missed opportunity.

Joe in the interrogation room: That’s outside my jurisdiction

Me: But the Mobile Unit…

Show: Hey look, DOGGIE!

Joe having Jesse reassure him about cops not taking victims of sexual assault seriously…that was a little iffy for me.

Sarah and Karma reassuring Joe about his bad dates was also an interesting choice.

Sarah kicking down the door of the hotel room, on the other hand…that worked well.

Same actor, different character: The wife of the philandering dude they take down at the end was previously the dead notary in s3’s Mansion on a Hill.

All in all, a decent episode.

#hudson & rex

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theculturedmarxist · 11 months ago

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by Marat Khairullin

I regularly receive letters from mothers who have lost their children, each of these contains a bitter reproach: “For what has my child perished?”

They usually write about the chaos in the army, about the callousness of officials who cannot or do not even want to find the bodies of a murdered father, son, or brother. I always do my best to explain at least something in general phrases to these grief-stricken people, and I always feel that this is not really enough, but rather very little.

Therefore, today, I want to try to explain my personal reasons for abandoning life in Moscow and why I came to this war to film and write. And then let everyone decide for themselves.

Many years ago, in the first half of the 1990s (I was a correspondent for a central newspaper then), I was chased around a small Ural town by an ethnic gang. I came there to write about the unnamed cemetery for pensioners on the outskirts of this town.

In a very short period of time (just a couple of years) that has passed since Yeltsin’s sovereignty was established in this classic Stalinist industrial town, 136 lonely pensioners had gone missing, and their apartments had changed ownership.

I was hidden [by people who assisted] in a huge administrative building of a deceased giant of Soviet industry.

We were sitting in the abandoned director’s office; a luxurious oil portrait of Lenin hung on the wall. We were burning candles (there was no electricity in the whole city) and drank filthy vodka.

They know everyone on the list, local police officer always comes first, and then the person disappears, after that they immediately clean the apartment up, and the next day they move in, the body of the person has not yet cooled down, but they are already in charge … Oh son, how scary it has become to live in the country … – Vladimir Mironovich, a veteran of the Great Patriotic War, who gave most of his life to that same industrial giant, on whose cooling corpse we then were drinking alcohol told me.

A local police officer had already visited him and as Mironych [shorter of Mironovich, more informal, represents the name of the person’s father] said himself, he is still alive only thanks to the unexpected arrival of a correspondent from Moscow.

I don’t know if it was true or not. But I made a mistake – immediately upon arrival, I went to the head of the city police with a letter from Mironych. They greeted me very cordially, surprisingly rolled their eyes, complained about all sorts of crazy people writing nonsense to the central newspapers, but promised to definitely look into it.

And literally a couple of hours later at my hotel, these guys in a Mercedes appeared. They were well-fed, calm, and very noticeable. They were absolute masters here – they drank from the administrator’s cup at the counter, good-naturedly joked with prostitutes in the hotel lobby, and pretended not to look in my direction.

Mironych immediately identified that they were after me, staged a whole operation, shook them off our tail, and hid me in the empty and dark building of his native factory where, while washing down his story with bitter vodka, he gave me a complete picture of the gang operating in the city, which notary forged documents and registered the apartments of the missing old people (by the way, she was the wife of that same police chief I visited before), who registered the property rights in the city real estate department (by the way, she was the wife of the city mayor – visiting him was my next obligatory task in my investigation), and who strangled the victims. Mironych even knew that missing old people all got strangled and then buried in a suburban forest – by those same smiling murderers that we’d seen in the hotel lobby.

But if you think that all this shocked me, despite being just a kid, then you are mistaken. I received dozens, if not hundreds of letters with similar emotional cries – thousands and thousands of people in those years, desperate to find the truth from the authorities, wrote to journalists. Therefore, I was not horrified by what was happening, I was already used to it.

The cruelty of the local gang described in Mironych’s letter – that was my main interest as a reporter. Lonely old people who remembered the Great Patriotic War (World War Two) were evicted from their apartments throughout all the Russia. I wrote so much material about this that the editorial offices where I worked simply stopped accepting these stories from me – they became something commonplace, no matter how creepy it may sound – just a sign of life.

This happened everywhere – Moscow, Balashikha, Saint Petersburg, Ufa, Kazan, Vladivostok … but in big cities, old people were spared, forced to assign these damned apartments to new owners, and then evicted to live in some abandoned villages. In small towns, old people were simply mowed down.

Early in the morning, Mironych asked his friend to take me out of the city in the trunk of his car.

“You know, I never cried during the war, but here … I cried from powerlessness” – he waved his hand and hugged me: “Thank you, son, and goodbye … Write about all that there …”

So many years have passed, but Mironych’s face, with tears and despair in his eyes, stands clearly in front of me – saying goodbye. This strong man was sure that he was already doomed. And he was ready for this – the old front-line soldier was preparing to die proudly, without complaint. And the only thing he asked God for was for his story to be heard at last … This cannot be confused with anything else.

This story did not end well at all. I even haven’t written the article – my department editor waved his hand tiredly: “Forget it, you can’t prove anything anyway, there are no documents, they’ll sue you …”

Later, American journalist Paul Khlebnikov – a good friend of mine – in his book alleged that Boris Yeltsin personally had to be held accountable for hundreds of thousands of murdered pensioners.

We met several times and had many discussions on this topic; I gave him part of my archive and, being a bit groggy, I told a good joke (as it then seemed to me): “Watch out, they might kill you for that …” Pasha just grinned back.

And after the book had been released, he was murdered …

And for some reason, I immediately thought that it was precisely because of the words that he would never forgive Boris Yeltsin for the death of these hundreds of thousands of old people abandoned to the mercy of fate …

So my dear mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers – your relatives did not perish simply to make sure that our lonely old people would no longer be killed in the thousands for the sake of their miserable apartments. No, my dears, if the Ukrainians and the West behind them win and come back to our country, they will kill you and me, not only the old people …

Believe me, that very horror, that we, immersed in the comfort, dared to forget, will return … Was there something more about the horror? Let’s remember …

It so happened that I have spent the whole of my youth on endless business trips around the once great country where Democracy and Yeltsin had won. And I have endless memories of the nightmare which I have witnessed, lived through, and felt with all the fullness of my senses. For example, about the fact that back in the 1990s in Russia, more than a million people died from alcoholism and causes directly related to alcohol. Mostly men were the victims, and they were also someone’s sons, fathers, and brothers. Like the fact that every year somewhere between 30 to 50 thousand people got killed in road accidents, and the biggest part of it was that the killer drivers had not even been subjected to criminal liability or hadn’t gone to trial.

And, as far as I remember, starting from the year 1997, the UN annually issued a special report on torture in the police (“militia” at the time) – this, of course, was an unfriendly move by the United States, nevertheless, it spoke about the state of the law enforcement system in the country. At the same time, more than a thousand people annually died from the bullets of murderers on the streets of the capital city of my tortured country.

And in the very year when Putin became prime minister [1999], another terrible study was released which stated that every third girl in Russia under the age of 18 had experienced ��commercial sex”. This is how Western researchers found a tolerant term to label prostitution in our country. In addition, at the end of the century, the black market for organ transplants in our country was estimated at a monstrous figure for those times – a billion dollars per year. About 20 thousand Russians annually were “dismantled for spare parts”… Everything was used, even lymphatic fluid; Western perfume giants used to buy it with enthusiasm … And again same monstrously polite formulation: “without the consent of donors”.

There also used to be a slave market in Russia (about 15 thousand Russians were sold annually without their consent) and a special market for sexual slavery – according to various estimates, up to half a million of our girls were held “against their will” in foreign brothels …

And there was also the Chechen war, which I can endlessly write about … And so on and so forthn…

And, my dear readers, for you these are just numbers, but all these years I have been traveling around the Great Country and writing articles about these crippled destinies. I looked in the eyes of these numbers, smiled at them, drank with them, sometimes even had affairs, and wrote and wrote …

And you know, for some reason, I was a very callous person then, I almost never cried … I remember only one such case …

It was some kind of God-forgotten town, an eternal “polustanok” [waypoint] on one of the endless outskirts of Russia.

Misha the geologist was, you know, one of those bright and quiet Russian idealists who somehow turn up spontaneously in all the corners of our holy country – people like these are the most conscientious people who wrote to me then, they did not ask for anything for themselves, but only had their souls aching for their neighbors.

This is the kind of person who wrote me a letter, and I arrived, and we went to the local “Aniskin” [Fyodor Ivanovich Aniskin district police officer “village detective” – fictional character by Vil Lipatov] – an older district police officer named Kuzmich.

He had been listening to me, he listened for a long time and looked into my face. Finally, he smiled wryly: “So you want to have a look, correspondent, well, let’s go and have a look …”

We walked on a clear and very cold night between two railway tracks on where freight trains stood. And suddenly Kuzmich rushed somewhere to the side, between the carriages, we caught up with him only when he was already dragging a kicking lump out of some hole.

“Don’t you scratch, little devil, you know I won’t do anything …” – Kuzmich groaned, bringing out a grimy kid at most 8~10 years old into the light of the moon.

“Let’s go” – Kuzmich pushed him a bit roughly in the back, he obediently trotted off …

In a basement “kaptyorka” [storage room] Kuzmich spoke just as sternly: “This is Aska. Take off your jacket”, he warned us, “Beware of lice …” He took out the sausage and bread, cut it and muttered to the boy again: “Eat”. He sat down on a chair and lit a cigarette, and told me: “Wait, that’s not all …”

The boy obediently took the sandwich and began eating it quietly, the three of us smoked in silence and looked at him … Then the door suddenly opened slightly and a girl of about six slipped through the crack and sat down next to Aska and took his hand.

“Here, meet Sima”, Kuzmich grinned: “I have about thirty of them running around the station here, but these ones are in love … Real love, they hold on to each other – she works in the carriages with shift workers, and this one guards her … Yes Seraphim? How much did you do today? Come on eat …”

Sima just bowed her head and began to smile at the floor quietly … Even then I noted what a nice, childlike smile she had …

“That’s how it is here, correspondent, the nearest orphanage is half a thousand miles away … Yes, they escape from there … Where to place them … No one cares about them …”

And we had a serious conversation with Kuzmich, the children ate, drank tea, and immediately went to sleep right on the chairs …

And we all smoked, talked, and sat until the frosty morning, which the surrounding huts look like these are hanging by the smoke attached to the red sky. And then I left.

And a few months later I received a letter from Misha.

Sima, while working in the carriage, was dragged by passing shift workers, Aska rushed with a knife to defend her … Kids got thrown out of the carriage at full speed …

The broken bodies of the children were found thirty kilometers from the halt station, a criminal case wasn’t initiated, and Kuzmich was eventually expelled from the police for drunkenness …

That’s when I started crying. The only letter that made me cry, I think …

But that’s not what I’m talking about …

My dears, everyone who writes and does not write letters to me with bitter reproach that their children, brothers, fathers died in a war that was foreign to them. No, my dear ones, they died so that there would be as few numbers like described before as possible in our country … Because if the Ukrainians take over, then this damned Democracy return.

And then Mironych, Aska and Sima will definitely not forgive us all … And so, while we are still fighting, there is a chance that God and the millions of innocents killed by Yeltsin’s inhuman regime behind him will forgive us all.

Although, to be honest, I don’t know this for sure, I just believe in it. And so, I left my life in Moscow and now I live here, in the war, and I dream of forgetting the Russia of my youth, through which I wandered, as if knee-deep in endless human grief …

Personally, I am fighting here as best I can for this reason, and letting the rest decide for themselves …

#russia #ussr #boris yeltsin #90s russia #capitalism

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