#catering job agencies

[jobyoda-philippines]

Exploring Career and Job Opportunities in Davao City Philippines

Davao City, recognized as one of the Philippines' most progressive cities, continues to experience remarkable economic growth, creating a vibrant job market that attracts professionals from across the country. The city's diverse economy offers numerous employment opportunities, from entry-level positions to executive roles, making it an attractive destination for job seekers at all career stages.

The Business Process Outsourcing (BPO) sector stands as one of the largest employers in Davao City, providing thousands of jobs across various specializations. Companies in this sector actively recruit customer service representatives, technical support specialists, and quality assurance analysts, offering competitive salaries and comprehensive benefits packages. The industry's continued expansion has created numerous opportunities for career advancement, with many organizations promoting from within and providing extensive training programs.

Part-time employment opportunities have also flourished in Davao City, catering to students, professionals seeking additional income, and individuals preferring flexible work arrangements. The retail sector, food service industry, and education field offer numerous part-time positions with varying schedules and responsibilities. These roles often provide valuable work experience and can serve as stepping stones to full-time careers.

The Information Technology sector in Davao has seen significant growth, with many companies seeking software developers, web designers, and IT support specialists. This growth has been fueled by the city's improving technological infrastructure and the increasing number of tech-focused businesses establishing operations in the region. Tech professionals can find opportunities in both established companies and startups, with many positions offering competitive compensation and the possibility of remote work arrangements.

Davao's hospitality and tourism industry continues to expand, creating jobs in hotels, restaurants, travel agencies, and tour operations. The sector offers positions ranging from entry-level service roles to management positions, with many employers providing training and development opportunities. The industry's growth has also sparked demand for professionals in events management and tourism marketing.

The education sector presents numerous opportunities for both full-time and part-time employment. Educational institutions regularly seek teachers, tutors, and administrative staff. The rise of online learning has created additional opportunities for English language teachers and academic consultants who can work flexible hours from home or teaching centers.

Job hiring  in Davao, the digital economy has opened new avenues for employment. E-commerce specialists, digital content creators, and social media managers are in high demand as businesses increasingly establish their online presence. These positions often offer the flexibility of remote work while providing competitive compensation packages.

Professional development resources are readily available in Davao City, with numerous institutions offering skills training programs and industry certifications. Job seekers can access career counseling services, resume writing assistance, and interview coaching through various employment support organizations. These resources prove invaluable in helping candidates prepare for and secure desired positions.

The financial services sector in Davao has also experienced substantial growth, creating opportunities for banking professionals, insurance specialists, and investment consultants. These positions typically offer attractive compensation packages, including performance bonuses and health benefits, making them highly sought after by experienced professionals.

Davao's agricultural sector continues to evolve, combining traditional farming with modern agribusiness practices. This has created opportunities for agricultural technologists, food processing specialists, and supply chain professionals. The sector offers both technical and management positions, with many companies providing specialized training and development programs.

For those entering Davao's job market, proper preparation is essential. Successful job seekers typically maintain updated resumes, prepare comprehensive portfolios, and stay informed about industry developments. Professional networking, both online and offline, plays a crucial role in discovering opportunities and advancing careers in the city.

The future of Davao's job market looks promising, with emerging industries creating new employment opportunities. The city's commitment to economic development, coupled with its strategic location and robust infrastructure, continues to attract businesses and investors, ensuring a steady stream of job opportunities for qualified candidates.

Whether seeking full-time employment or part-time job in Davao City offers a diverse range of opportunities across multiple industries. Success in this dynamic job market often comes to those who combine proper preparation with continuous skill development and effective networking. As the city continues to grow and evolve, its job market remains a beacon of opportunity for professionals seeking to build meaningful careers in Mindanao's premier business hub.

[pissmoon]

Pop feminism is so stupid and pathetic at this point they cant even form any good arguments against incels of all people and publish videoessays on why being a tradwife or a 'trophy wife' to a millionaire whose dick doesnt work and beats the shit out of you is valid

[hbsmanpowerconsultancy]

Looking for CHEF jobs!!!

[yuurei20]

Summarized transcript of the Twisted Radio episode with Heartslabyul (minus Trey) voice actors!! 🥳 (all is just paraphrased, not direct quotes, and Book 7 spoilers removed!)

Highlights ・A lot of industry talk!

Last week’s opening talk that was set was “How do you want to spend New Years?”

🌹 I will have finished work by the 27th so I will be relaxing and listening to this show at home. 

♠️ Are you sure? You’re really going to listen at home?

❤️ Listen with your whole family.

🌹Yes, I will have my kids listen to it, too.

♠️ I’m going to contact you on the 27th. “🌹-san, are you listening?”

🌹 Reads a fan letter: they are being asked about things the cast learned when they first became voice actors.

♠️ Says he never went to a technical school or training school or anything so he just learned on the job. He said he learned that new hires are expected to sit near the door to open and close it for others. He didn’t know this at first and would sit in the middle or the back and other new people would tell him that he needed to be near the door. 

♦️ says he also never had any formal schooling/training and he learned by watching everyone around him, which is how he learned the shorthand that is used in the industry, and everyone talks about how shorthand can vary by person.

❤️ starts talking about an unnamed project that he did with 🌹 (they can’t say what it is). ❤️ says his character used a sword and he became interested in it and went to a trial lesson. What he learned is that that skill is not only about strength. And also the swords are very heavy.

🌹says when he debuted he was given a rehearsal video to watch on VHS instead of DVD, but he didn’t have a VCR so he had to go buy one from a recycle shop specifically to watch the total of two VHSs he would be given before his agency shifted to DVDs.

Next section:

About Riddle

🌹 He can’t speak too kindly or it departs from Riddle’s character. He’s been doing this for 5 years now and he likes everyone, but that much time hasn’t passed in the game yet. So he will be directed to be less kind. He feels that his voice has changed, too, since it has been so long, getting deeper, so the director will ask him to sound younger.

There are also what he calls the “system voices” which are maybe voice lines? He says that since they have to be accessible to everyone no matter what point it is that they start playing the game, he has to record them as how Riddle was at the start of the main story, and how strict he was. He says he has been watching Alice in Wonderland a lot in order to properly portray the angry queen. 

About Ace

❤️ He says that like 🌹 new challenges have been appearing over the past five years. There is also the change in Ace from thinking that he was better than Deuce but then Deuce got his UM first. ❤️ Ace doesn’t know his UM, and ❤️ himself is looking forward to it. He says he really doesn’t have any idea what it is going to be, he hasn’t been told.

♠️ says that fans will often comment on how well ❤️ is able to mimic other voice actors. He asks how ❤️ himself is at imitating people and ❤️ says he’s bad at it.

🌹 says that maybe ❤️ being so good at it is why Ace has been imitating people so much in the game. ♠️ says that if ❤️ was bad at it then they might have started asking him to do it less.

About Deuce

♠️ references how all of Heartslabyul recorded together for Book 1 which never happens for mobile games, and he had never recorded with that many voice actors in the same place for a game before. It was the very start of his career so he was grateful, and now they all record alone.

They talk about Deuce’s struggles in Book 5. ❤️ says he is empathizes a lot with Deuce, so he adapted his line readings in order to be really annoying. 

Now they are talking about Book 7 things, redacted for spoilers 💦

About Cater

♦️ says that Cater hasn’t really changed that much from Book 1, unlike other characters. He is always showing the same mood, with only occasional whispers of his true feelings. He is still treating everyone the same way he always has, and ♦️ 's portrayal hasn’t really changed either.

♦️ says that when he is going through a script he will ask the staff, “…but what is really going on?” beyond the words that he has been given to read. 

More Book 7 things, redacted for spoilers.

About Trey

♣️ isn’t here in person because of scheduling conflicts but he provided a comment to read on air! His comment is on the impression he gets from Trey: a dependable and kind senpai, if you have been brushing your teeth properly. He can seem mature beyond his years because of his supportive role in the dorm, and you can sense the mental strain he is under sometimes. At first glance he can appear untrustworthy but he doesn’t seem to have hidden intentions behind his words, so do not worry.

❤️ talks about Trey in Book 1 and his childhood relationship with Riddle and 🌹 says that the scenes with Trey and Riddle towards the end might have turned out differently if they hadn’t been able to record together.

Comment from ♣️ on voicing Trey: he says he tries to portray Trey’s calmness but it is difficult to do so while simultaneously not making him sound older than 18. Part of Trey’s charm is how quick-witted he is, so he tries to suggest a hidden complexity through his line readings. He reiterates that there aren’t any actual bad intentions though.

♠️ comments on how, since the characters are villains, they all have villainous-looking expressions that they make sometimes, and Trey’s in particular looks very villainous. 

❤️ says it’s funny how ♣️ is actually the youngest voice cast member in Heartslabyul, but the character he is voicing is a calm and collected senpai.

❤️ shares another comment from ♣️ asking how much Trey expects people to brush their teeth before he will be satisfied.

❤️ wonders if Trey and Cater will be graduating and ♠️ says “no I will not let them”

About Main Story

Book 7 talk~

About In-Game Schedule

Lilia birthday, Sam’s New Year Sale, Malleus birthday, Main Story Content~

Twst Fes DVD on sale~

Anime is coming~

End!

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

I'm going to say this on every chapter i post here LOL, but GO TO CHAPTER 1 AND READ!!!!! MY!!!!!!! WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 3

[Prev] [Next]

You loved your office, you really did.  Two of your coworkers were your best friends from high school, the work-life balance was ideal, your bosses were super understanding and encouraging of all their employees endeavors, and the weekly catered lunches truly felt like a luxury.

The only qualm was the noise.

The office had an open layout, and while everyone had their own desk, it was very easy to move around the space and talk to everyone while on and off the job.  This meant any personal phone calls had to be taken out of the entire vicinity.  And in your case, into an unlocked broom closet across the industrial building’s hallway, in front of another agency’s door.

You were sitting on a plastic box containing something you weren’t sure of, anxiously bouncing your feet as your heart hammered in your chest.  Each time the ringback tone exited your speakers caused another cold wave of anxiety to flood from your head to the soles of your feet.  You swallowed a thick glob of spit as you struggled to maintain your breathing.  You were sure your blouse was going to have armpit stains when you returned to your desk.

Finally, a voice picked up the other line.

[Thank you for calling Grand Line Gynecology and Obstetrics, how can I help you today?]

The sweet, welcoming voice of the receptionist on the other end of the line made you breathe a sigh of relief, though you weren’t out of the woods just yet.  Far from it.  “Hi, uhm, I’m a patient with Dr. Robin, and I was wondering if I would be able to get an appointment as soon as possible.”

A few keyboard clicking noises followed your request.

[Can I have your name and date of birth?]

You quietly relayed your information, biting your lip impatiently.  More typing sounds could be heard.

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, and do you mind if I ask the purpose of your visit?]

You knew it was important information for your doctor to know prior to seeing you, but the thought still made a heavy pit develop in your stomach.  “Uhm… f-fertility consultation…?  I guess.”

More clicking.

[Of course, I’m looking up Dr. Robin’s availability right now, hold on just a moment, please!]

You’ve dealt with crappy phone receptionists in the past, but whoever was usually on the receiving end of your calls to your gynecologist was always so pleasant.  You could never quite recognise her voice in person, but her bubbly and patient speech was always greatly appreciated during your otherwise anxious phone calls.  Finally, she came back onto the line.

[Dr. Robin’s next available appointment isn’t for three months, unfortunately, but I can still fit you into that time slot if you would like!  I can also write your name down, so if any appointments open up sooner, we will give you a call.]

You breathed another sigh of relief.  “That would be amazing, thank you.”

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, I have you marked down for Thursday, May 1st at 10:00 AM.  We’ll give you a call if anything changes and you can always call us if you develop other concerns, okay?]

You smiled at the broom closet floor.  “I appreciate it, thank you very much.”  The phone clicked off after trading goodbyes, your arm falling onto your lap.  You hadn’t realized how tight you were gripping your phone until then, your hand trembling with how harsh your hold was on the device.  With a sigh, you opened your text conversation with Law.

Hi baby, I just called the obgyn, they cant fit me in until may 1st but she said if anything opens up theyll call me back.  Fingers crossed something opens up sooner, hopefully you dont have to wait as long!  I’ll see you later, i love youuuuu ^3^

You put your phone to sleep and stuffed it into the pocket of your trousers as you finally exited the broom closet.  An employee of the agency across from yours was entering his office and tossed you a very confused glance at you leaving the innocuous room, but you paid him no mind as you walked back into your office to continue your work.

“There you are, I was wondering where you went!”  Ikkaku was waiting for you at your desk with her work laptop in hand.  “I wanted to go over a few designs with you, but when I went to find you, you were just, POOF!  Gone like the wind!”

You laughed at her excited talking, finally sitting at your desk again and grabbing an unoccupied chair for your friend to sit in.  “Sorry to make you wait, I had to take a phone call.”

Ikkaku brushed off having to wait with a cheery, “It’s fine!  No biggie!” before opening her laptop and inputting her passcode.  You felt your phone buzz in your pocket.  While Ikkaku was opening her files, you slipped out your device and tapped the screen.

Baby~~<3

Hopefully something opens up, but it’s good that you at least got an appointment.  I got my appointment with urology on my lunch break today.  We’re making steps.  I love you, see you later.

You smiled at the text.

“Why does Law need to see a urologist?” Ikkaku whispered beside you, making you jump and hide your screen.  She was looking at you with curiosity in her big, brown eyes.

“It’s nothing, really.”  You quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket.  Ikkaku was your best friend, she really was, but the last thing you wanted to do was bring up your potential infertility issues while on the clock, and especially while your anxieties were still fresh and raw at the forefront of your brain.

Ikkaku must have sensed your profound fear, as she shrugged and turned her attention back to her laptop.  “So here’s what I was drafting…”

—

While you had to wait around three months for your appointment, Law’s was scheduled shockingly quick.  Almost too quick for his liking.  The following week.  Which, to Law’s mutual discomfort and relief, came much quicker than he thought it would.  

He was thanking the heavens above that he had the day off for once.

Law followed all the rules to a T before the appointment.  No ejaculation 2-3 days prior, but no longer than 5.  He’d jerk off into a sterile cup in the clinic, hand that to the doctor, and wait a few hours.  While waiting, he’d get his hormone blood work collected.  Easy as pie.  He walked into the clinic feeling oddly confident in himself and his abilities to follow pre-procedure protocol, as a doctor himself.  The brief moment of cocky joy was interrupted as soon as the fertility doctor entered the examination room Law was sitting in.

“Alriiiight!  Mr. Trafalgar Law!”  The doctor was shouting his name before even closing the door, making the black-haired man cringe.  The nametag on the open laboratory-style coat he wore read ‘Dr. Franky.’  Next to the name tag was a little enamel pin of a robot.  The door was closed with a moderate slam.  “You’re that cardiologist from New World Hospital, right?  You’re crazy popular, so cool to see you in the clinic!  So we’re here to check on your little swimmers, huh?”  Dr. Franky, who was shockingly tall and very broad in the shoulders, plopped into his seat and placed his laptop on the counter in front of him.  

The force of him sitting on the stool caused the pneumatic tube to compress forcefully downwards.  Law had a mental image in his head of the tube exploding and propelling the spring upward into the doctor’s ass.  He barely even registered the fact that his reputation as the city’s leading cardiothoracic surgeon seemed to have followed him to his semen analysis appointment.  He shook his head quickly before nodding.  “Uh, yeah, semen analysis.”

Dr. Franky was rapidly typing in whatever patient portal he was using.  “Semen analysis is such an uppity thing to call it, I personally like calling it the Super Swimming Meet!”  He laughed, the voice echoing around the small room and making Law wince.  He finally finished typing, slamming his laptop closed.  It was then Law noticed a few pieces of scotch tape holding the laptop’s hinges together.  (What kind of clinic is this?)  Franky’s booming voice interrupted Law’s thoughts.  “All you have to do is wank off into this cup here.  Cap it tightly and bring it to the nurse’s station when you’re done and it’ll get sent off into the lab!”

Law carefully took the cup from the doctor, his face heating up in embarrassment.  “Uhm… thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave you to it?”

Law wanted to ask if there was a different room he should be doing this in, or if handing the cup to a random nurse was proper protocol, but he honestly wanted nothing more than to get out of there as quickly as possible.  He was starting to regret his colleagues at the hospital giving him clinic recommendations.  “Uhh… no thank you, I think that’s everything.”

“Alright, Mr. Trafalgar, I’ll let you get to it!”  Dr. Franky left fairly quickly, much to Law’s relief.  His ears were still ringing with the volume of the doctor’s voice.

Law was now left alone, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, holding the empty sterile plastic cup.  After that interaction, the last thing he was thinking of doing was masturbating, but he needed to get it over with.  For your sake, and his.

He awkwardly stood and undid his belt, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor before placing a few napkins onto the plastic chair and sitting back down.  He shivered at the cold feeling of the napkin-covered chair against his bare ass.  This was the least erotic situation he could’ve ever experienced.  He figured it would be far from the norm, but this was beyond any expectation he could’ve developed.  He shivered.

Grabbing the cup again, Law unscrewed the cap just enough so that he’d be able to pop it open as soon as he needed to.  When he stared at his flaccid dick, however, he uttered a defeated sigh.

‘Think of something to get you hard, man, think of your wife,’ he told himself.  Even his inner voice was desperate.

The sterile doctor’s office was completely inhibiting any thoughts of you to remain permanent in his head.  Every time he tried to think of your smell, your taste, the feeling of your bare flesh against his fingers, he would inhale and take in the bland stench of sterile alcohol and plastic.  He groaned.

Reaching into his pants pocket on the floor, he procured his phone.  Opening an incognito window on his web browser, he inwardly apologized to you (and double checked that the door was locked) before opening up a porn website for the first time since he was an undergrad in college.

—

Law came home a few hours after you.  You were standing at the stove setting the oven preheat temperature, a loaf pan of uncooked banana bread sitting on the stove top waiting to bake.  You turned to ask how his appointments went, but kept your mouth shut when you saw Law kick his shoes off and sit at the bar counter in your kitchen, placing his head in his hands.

“What happened?” you hurried over to him, immediately growing anxious that he had received bad news.  Your stomach turned.

He lifted his head.  “I… I had to watch porn today.”

[justmeinadaze]

Ghost In The Machine (Eddie X You)

A/N: I wrote this a few days ago because I need it more than anything rn.

Title is based off of SZA's song "Ghost In The Machine".

"I give a fuck, I just wanna fuck, eat, sleep, love, happy Can you make me happy? Can you keep me happy?

Can you distract me from all the disaster? Can you touch on me and not call me after? Can you hate on me and mask it with laughter? Can you lead me to the ark? What's the password?

I need humanity You're like humanity"

They do text near the end. Eddie's texts will be in red.

Warnings: Daddy Dom Eddie X Stripper Sub (slight bratty) Fem Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, dry humping, phone smut, slight degrading if you squint, choking), Eddie is kinda mean at first, traumas are alluded to but not expanded on (Child abuse; bad past relationships), light FLUFF with my usual dash of the ANGST.

Word Count: 4060

Being asked to perform at parties like this wasn’t new for you and the other girls. Having the manager of a famous band reach out to your company for some “entertainment” wasn’t odd either. What was odd was that you were told Corroded Coffin had four band members and right now you were looking at three. They seemed content with the girls they had grinding and kissing on their lap so you decided to take a look around the mansion style home you guys had been called to. 

It was extremely beautiful with a bunch of rooms displaying different things. Your fingers grazed the wall at the bottom of the bands framed platinum and gold albums. Turning into what you assumed was a game room, you found a billiards table and a PlayStation with a mini bar in the corner. Around the area, shelfs prominently showed off the band’s awards and accolades with MANY pictures of them in different places. 

As you walked further down the hall, you passed an open-door smelling smoke and hearing light strumming of a guitar. Pausing, you took a couple of steps back to peer into the room, finding that missing fourth member.

He had headphones on over his long, wavy hair as a half-finished cigarette dangled from his lips. His eyes were closed as his fingers ran across the instruments strings as it leaned against his bare chest. His jeaned leg and barefoot tapped to a beat as he listened to his music. 

“Jesus Christ!”, he exclaimed as his eyes shot open feeling a change in the atmosphere. “What the fuck are you doing over here?! You girls are supposed to stay in the goddamn living room.”

“Hey there’s no reason to be rude! Your friends were preoccupied with the other ladies so I thought I’d look around.”

“Uh huh. To steal shit?”

“No! To look. I got bored, ok?!”

“Hm. A hooker who’s bored. That’s something I haven’t heard before.” His tone is dripping with mocking as he rises to his feet. 

“That’s no reason for you to be a fucking asshole!”

“You watch your mouth when you talk to me, little girl. I can make sure you and your ‘company’ never get another job again.”

“Oh, Mr. Tough Rockstar is oh no scary. Fuck you. I’ve handled way worse clients than the number 5 band on the billboard charts.”

The man’s held tilted to the side as he finally drank you in. You were visually different than what he expected when his friends had suggested reaching out to an agency to have some women come over to celebrate with since they were nominated for another Grammy. Eddie didn’t care about that kind of thing; he just wanted to play music. When he heard the car pull up, he immediately disappeared to his room to practice and write some new songs. Not that he wasn’t interested in “entertaining a woman”. This metalhead liked a challenge and he enjoyed even more a strong woman that wouldn’t just cater to his every whim. He didn’t want a woman who would get down on her knees no questions asked. Eddie wanted one who would tell him to fuck off but then after a few consensual activities would be dripping and begging for his cock.

Women were offered to him and his friends constantly. He wanted something he had to earn so that way when she finally submitted, it was all the more sweet.

“What’s your name?”, he asked in a much softer tone.

“Y/N. You?”

“Are you asking to be polite or do you genuinely not know who the guitarist of the band who is number five on the billboard charts?”

“Do you always make things this complicated?”

“Yes.” When he grins at you, you can’t help but smile back.

“Some of the other ladies find catering to a man’s ego really gets them going. I find it’s better to ask them questions, Mr. Munson, especially since most of our clients think we don’t care about them.”

“Do you? Care I mean.”

“Sometimes.”, you shrug. 

“You’re honest. I like that.”

“I don’t really see the point in lying if I’m probably never going to see you again.”

“Do you WANT to see me again?”

This time it was your turn to tilt your head. He said that with a lot of the sass he had been giving you since he saw you but something else was behind his eyes when he spoke, something lonely. Your palm reached out confidently, landing on the bulge in his jeans. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice his size. The part of him that was against your hand wasn’t even all of him and you gulped as you tried to regain your confident composure. 

“Do you want me to help you feel better now, Mr. Munson?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”, the guitarist mused as he stepped forward, placing his own palm against the wall behind you and trapping you against it. “I hate when my questions go unanswered.”

“You-you must be used to disappointment then.”

His nose grazed yours, grinning a big tooth filled smile before his eyes flicked down to your hand on his cock.

“You must be to, Y/N.” Slowly, his fingers trace down your arm and take hold of your wrist as he holds it still. “Be honest. Have you ever felt a dick as big as mine?” 

You licked your lips as his hips began grinding against your palm, trying to push down the moan that wanted to escape. 

 “Ooo someone’s confident.”, you jest. Something in his look changes as the hand on the wall behind you slides down to your throat. In most situations with your other clients this would be a time to panic but he wasn’t gripping you violently. When his fingers firmly pressed into your skin, your brain felt fuzzy as your pussy clenched around nothing. 

“I’d say I’ve earned the right to be confident. Now, Y/N, this your one warning. Answer the questions I ask you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes Mr. Munson. I understand. N-no. I’ve never felt a dick like yours.”

He smirked as he pressed your palm harder against him. “Good girl.” Your let out a sigh when he released his hold on your neck to push some of your hair behind your ear. “You really are beautiful, Y/N. Fuck and your hand feels so good. I can only imagine how the rest of you feels.”

“You don’t have to imagine. You can have me if you want me.”

Eddie’s smirk grows as he bites his bottom lip. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more but…that’s not how I play. I don’t want you to fuck me because you’re paid to.” He leans in till his lips are right by your ear. “I want you to fuck me because you want to…need me to.” You hear his breathing stutter as he moves his hips faster, his grip on your wrist tightening. “Beg me to.”

“Oh fuck…”, you whimpered at his words. His movements become choppy and grunts before you feel dampness on his jeans. 

He leans back placing his forehead on yours as he licks his lips and softly smiles. “See, what would usually happen now is I’d make you cum to. I bet that pussy is just aching to be touched but see…you’re getting to paid to make us feel good…not the other way around.”

You’re honestly too stunned to say anything or fight back with your typical brand of sass. Right now, all you can think of his him and how bad you need something from him; anything. 

“Can…can I kiss you?”

When he nods, you waste no time connecting your lips to his. You immediately taste the nicotine but that undertone of him has you dizzy. All too quickly, it’s over as he pulls away. He doesn’t just move his head but his whole body as he backs towards his bed, yanking off his now stained jeans and boxers.

“How long are you ladies here for?”, he asks nonchalantly as he sits on the bed and picks up his guitar again. 

“Huh? Oh, um, 2 AM I think.”

He glances at his phone before handing it to you. “Time’s almost up. Put your number in there for me.”

Eddie said it like a command and your instinct was to say something snarky but as you looked down at him strumming his instrument without looking at you, you realized there was more to this man than meets the eye. Most men who begged for your number always watched you intently to make sure you actually did it, you assumed. Of course, you gave them a fake number or the number to the agency you worked for but with this man here his head remained lowered. It was almost like he was afraid you wouldn’t…like he really hoped you would and would be hurt if he watched you decline, giving the phone back. 

There was something about Eddie that you wanted to know more about. He wasn’t like everyone else you had been around. For some reason, you felt like you could trust him. 

After inputting your real number, you placed his device back on his nightstand and sat beside him. “We still have 45 minutes. Can I ask what you’re working on?”

His eyes shoot over to you as he cautiously scans your soft smiling face. “We’re working on this new album and Jeff has this song he wrote but I can’t find the right sound. I was just messing around and recording them to see if it sparked something.”

“May I hear what you have so far?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

He reached over, grabbing an extra set of headphones and placed them over you head. You grinned as different guitar riffs and melodies began to play. 

“This is all you?” Eddie nods. “Wow. Mr. Munson, you are definitely talented.”

When he pauses the recording and you slide the headphones around your neck. “You can call me Eddie if you’d like.”

“Okay, Eddie.” After putting the headphones over your ears again, he pressed play and you both leaned back in his bed. 

He couldn’t help but be a little shocked that you didn’t try to touch him again. Anywhere he or his band went, people tried to touch his body whether it was meet and greets, walking through the street, or even on stage when overzealous fans would jump on and run at them. Any girl that was lucky enough to be in his bed would insist on touching him until she left as if she knew this would be the last time she saw him. That’s another reason he struggled to maintain any kind of relationship. Besides the crazy rockstar life, he never was keen on being constantly touched. 

He got enough of that with his career and when he was growing up when his dad would knock him around. With his last relationship, they fought constantly because there were times he would come home from a long day and just wanted a moment to decompress alone. He knew she meant well but even after nicely asking her to give him a moment she would still try and wrap her arms around him or try and kiss parts of his body.

What he didn’t know yet was that you understood that feeling all too well. Being in your line of work, men seemed to believe you didn’t even have a line they shouldn’t cross, always touching some part of your body until their time was up. When you were just a stripper at the company you worked for, men were the same but at least you had a bouncer to quickly pulled them back. When times got hard and you told your boss you were willing to sign up for the “side hustle”, it was just you and the girls. 

No one had ever gotten too physical like that but after your client came you just wanted them to roll over and crash or just leave you there till the timer was up. Personally, you chose to stay away from relationships knowing most men wouldn’t like your line of business. Men constantly offered to “save you” but you knew it was all talk. They didn’t really care about you. 

When you moved to the city, you promised you were only going to look out for yourself. You took care of you and had for a long time. The last time you relinquished control like that, you got burned and ran all the way to a new state. 

A small hand tapped your knee and you jumped before realizing it was one of the other girls letting you know time was up. 

“Ok, I’ll be right there.” You turn to Eddie and hand him his headphones. “I really like what you have so far. That last one was beautiful.”

“Thank you. Here, um, let me grab my sweatpants and I can walk you out.”

“Oh, Eddie, no. You don’t have to do that. It’s super late and in your gated front yard I don’t think anyone is going to jump us.”, you giggle. 

“Ok…I’m going to put on pants anyway though because I want to hug you if that’s alright.” Without waiting for an answer, he finds a pair on the floor and pulls them up just below his hips. 

“Do arms not work without sweats?”

“They do but I don’t want to be disrespectful by rubbing my dick on you and making you uncomfortable.”

“Didn’t I just…”

“You made that move, sweetheart. You put your hand on me.”, he grins as he places his body in front of yours. “May I hug you?”

When you nod, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest as your own limbs cling to his upper torso. This was a new feeling for you. It had been so long since you felt safe in someone’s arms. His hand petted your hair as he kissed the top of your head. 

“I’ll talk to you later to make sure you’re alright.”

***

You sighed as you entered your front door, putting away your things, and throwing yourself on your bed as you closed your eyes. A sudden ding on your phone made your eyebrows scrunch as you blindly searched for it on your bed. Swiping it open, you noticed it was from an unknown number but as you read the message, a smile slowly formed on your face. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Just checking in to make sure you got home alright.”

“Are you stalking me, Mr. Munson? Lol. I literally just walked in the door.”

Tossing your phone back on the bed, you figure it will most likely take him awhile to respond but as you go to your closet to change you hear that familiar ding.

“Yup. You caught me. I followed you home.”

“Shit. I just realized that’s probably not a joke I should be making in your line of work.”

“I was just thinking about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Lol Eddie! If I thought you were like that I wouldn’t have given you my number : ) “

“I’m alright though. Thank you for checking up on me.”

“Of course. I’ll leave you alone now so you can sleep.”

“I actually wasn’t going to go to sleep just yet.” 

You paused for a moment debating on if you should tell him what you were going to do before bed. You were hoping if you did maybe he would talk to you like he did in his bedroom. Hearing him murmur his words and what he said got you wetter than anything else. You could still feel your slick sticking to your legs after you changed your clothes. Hell, it couldn’t hurt, right?

“I just got back from spending some time with this long haired rockstar with a huge cock who got me all hot and bothered so I was going to relieve some of this pressure here.”

You watched the dots on his end appear and disappear. The longer it took him the more nervous you got. Had you crossed a line?

“Don’t talk like that. Be upfront and honest. Talk to me like a big girl. What were you going to do before bed, Y/N?”

You could almost feel his stern eyes through the screen as you rubbed your thighs together. 

“I was going to touch myself and think of you.”

His name suddenly popped up on your phone and you didn’t hesitate to answer the call. 

“Hey Eddie.”

“Are you still wearing what you had on here?”

“No. I’m naked now.”

“Liar.”

“Eddie, I’m not—”

“Call me back when you’re ready to be a good girl.”

Your jaw dropped as he hung up and you huffed as you called him backed. “How dare you—”

“I don’t play games like that, little girl, and I hate liars. I figured since I got you all riled up and you are no longer on the clock maybe I could help you out. I also thought it would be fucking sexy to hear what you sound like when you cum. But if you want to cop an attitude with me, I can treat you how bratty little girls deserve to be treated. Now…what are you wearing?”

“I’m wearing an oversized t-shirt with my panties from earlier.”

He could hear your pout through the phone and it was making him hard all over again. 

“Good. Good girl. Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I just… I always have to be SEXY; you know? God forbid I show any humanity.”

“Not with me, princess. I imagine you look just as sexy now as you did looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes against my bedroom wall."

“Thank you, Mr. Munson.”

“Of course. Now tell me, baby. You said you were going to touch yourself and think of me. What about me?”

“I was thinking about the way your lips tasted when you kissed me…so good.”

“The cigarette taste didn’t bother you?”, he chuckled making you smile as one of your hands roamed up your shirt to touch your breast. 

“No. Not at all.”, you giggle back, biting your bottom lip. 

“That’s good. I’ve had some complaints.” You can hear him smile and your fingers run along your nipple as your exhale heavily. “What are you doing over there, honey?”

“I’m playing with my tits.”

“Mmm. You did have some perfect tits. Well, from what I saw under that tight ass tank top.”

That makes you genuinely laugh and his smile grows at the sound. “What else were you going to think about?”

Your hand slides under the waistband of your panties as your finger slides through your dripping folds. 

“I was going to think about your thick cock against my palm and the way you rubbed against it.”

“Yeah? You’re going to imagine me doing that right now between those gorgeous legs? Grinding my dick against your pretty little pussy.”

“F-fuck, Eddie.” Your eyes rolled back as two of your fingers breached your entrance. “Please…keep talking to me…like that.”

“You like the way I talk to you? Was that something else you were going to think about? Picturing me whispering in your ear like I did when you were here?”

You didn’t know but he was leading you somewhere. There was one thing he wanted, needed to hear you say on your own. As soon as he heard it, he was yours and he would do anything to make you his. 

“Yes, I liked hearing you say the things you said.”

Eddie could hear you touching yourself and your little moans were driving him crazy as he quickly pulled down his pants. 

“Princess, is it ok if I touch myself to?”

“Yeah, baby. Of course. A-are you—mmm—still a bit sensitive?” The sound of him spitting in his hand had you clench tightly as you whimpered. 

“Ah, no, baby girl. But with those sexy fucking whimpers and groans I’m not going to last long.”, he chuckled. “How many fingers are you using?” You barely heard him as you thumb began messaging your clit. “I asked you something, sweetheart. What did I say when you were here?”

“If-if—mmm—you ask…me…something I-I answer.”

“Good girl. Tell me how many fingers you’re using.”

“Fuck…two. Two, Daddy.”

Eddie practically growled with pleasure at the word that he had been praying would fall from your lips. 

“Jesus, yes. Good fucking girl. I want you to use three. You…you have to prepare that pretty pussy for… Daddy’s big cock.”

As soon as you did as he asked, the English language completely escaped your mind. 

“I…your…oh my…” He grunted in your ear reminding you of when he was pressed against you sending you toppling over the edge as you came hard. The sound was almost too much for him as he pictured your cunt spasming around him as you moaned his name just as you had. For the second time that night you made him cum as his spend shot out and hit his stomach. 

“Are you ok?”, you mumbled, drunk off your orgasm.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m alright. Are you?”

“I’ve never called anyone Daddy before.” You had no idea why you were being so honest with him. That wasn’t necessarily something he needed to know but for some reason you thought maybe the knowledge of that would make him feel special. You wanted him to feel good. 

“What made you say it now?”

You scoot your body further into your bed as you curl up into your sheets.

“I feel safe with you. I know that sounds so weird. We barely even know each other but I do…”

You listened to the soothing sound of his breath into the phone as he absorbed what you were saying. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

“I can handle the asshole.” You smile when you hear him softly laugh. 

“On Friday, we’re going to be spending some time at the recording studio. Do you want come by and listen to us play?”

“I would love to but I have to work Friday night.”

“How about you come by in the afternoon and then go to work? Are you…um…”

“No, side business Friday. I’ll just be dancing.”

“Ok, cool. Maybe when we’re done, I can meet up with you after.”

“Eddie…I like you a lot but are you sure you want to do this? I strip and I have sex for money. I’m not proud of it but I’m not ashamed of it either. I’m doing what I have to do right now.”

He was silent for a moment as he thought about what you were saying. 

“Y/N, I’m not perfect. I’ve been arrested, gotten into fights with paparazzi, and like I said I can be a bit of an asshole. I like you a lot to but I understand that this is all new. You and I lead interesting lives. I’m not…going to harp on you and I’m not going to, I don’t know, offer to fucking save you or whatever other douchebags say.” You laugh making him smile. “But I would like to take care of you…physically, mentally, emotionally…financially.”

“I don’t know how to give up control like that.”

The way you say that makes him want to scoop you up in his arms and cradle you into his chest. 

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“No, not tomorrow.”

“Can I come over so we can talk? We’re doing this stupid photoshoot thing but I can come over after and bring some food. Of course, only if you’re comfortable. That’s all that really matters to me, baby girl. I want you to be comfortable.”

You don’t know why but you believed him when he said it. What was it about this man that had you breaking all your normal rules?  Not just rules with the business but in your life. You had been on your own for so long that you didn’t need nor want to become involved with someone. However, it would be nice to have someone take care of you for once…

“Okay, Daddy”

[manias-wordcount]

Retreat (Shouta Aizawa, Nemuri Kayama, Toshinori Yagi, Hizashi Yamada)

Kinktober 2024 Day Thirty-One: Service

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗗𝗮𝘆'𝘀 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗢𝗻𝗲-𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀:  𝗼𝗻𝗲  ||  𝘁𝘄𝗼  || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲

People say if you don’t like your job, then it’s not for you. That’s what your friends always told you when you would shyly mention your strict office job. The one that would have you coming in at odd hours and never allowing visitors of any kind. It was best that they saw you leave the house every day in a pencil skirt and tights. Because it wouldn’t raise any questions. After all, not many people can handle a lifestyle like this.

But you like your job. Despite all that you know and hear about from other people in the same or similar industries, you’ve lucked out. Because you actually like your job. The agency you’re working for and the clientele that they cater to means that every job complete earns you a very generous paycheck nearly day in and day out. The type of paycheck you would have to hide from your friends, even. But you suppose you have to hide just about everything when it comes to this type of job.

Because when you’re sucking the dicks and sittings on the faces of the highest-ranked Pro-Hereoes in all of Japan, you’re bound to want to keep it a secret from all who know you. Just like they’re bound to want to keep it secret from all of the world that they’ve been booking you for parties and solo sessions in their own apartments and agencies and other places. But that’s just what comes with the territory. It comes with the territory when you’re a hired whore for Japan’s greatest. 

So the secrecy is nothing new. Just like the meeting at one location only to be blindfolded and put into a car and shipped off to a second, more secret location is surprising and nothing new either. Just like seeing a set of cabins set up around a well-kept campground in the middle of the mountains when you’re finally allowed to take the blindfold off for just a few seconds is also nothing new. Because You’ve been hired to perform your services on retreats before. You’ve done the whole- service the entire company throughout the day while they’re supposed to be getting buddy-buddy with each other. Usually, while someone is ball-deep inside of you. 

So in your mind, this is nothing new. This is nothing special. Nothing to be concerned about.

But then you started hearing voices surrounding you. Voices that you’ve heard before. Voices that you can put faces to. Voices that belong to people who had appeared on TV and in interviews. Voices that belong to people that you’ve serviced before. Voices that belong to a group you swear work at UA High School. 

And suddenly, it makes perfect sense now that bodies are pressing up against yours, telling you how pretty you look while thanking some man named Nezu for “bringing out our favorite girl.” It makes perfect sense that everyone- every voice in the crowd that’s starting to mob you seems to know you with just one quick glance, even with the blindfold obscuring part of your face. It makes perfect sense that there are suddenly multiple pairs of lips pressing themselves against your skin in all the right spots, making you moan and gasp out in the way you know all your clients seem to like. Almost as if you're being hired and brought here has more to do with your pleasure than theirs.

Almost. 

You know people too well. You know these people too well. You know these people too well to know that they’re not too concerned with the fact that you can easily start calling out hero names of those who start undressing and running their hands all over your body. You know these people too well that they were holding back earlier- because very rarely do your clients not try to jump your bones at first sight. But right now, you’re not concerned about the sore pussy and throat that’s bound to be in your future. You’re not really concerned at all. That said, it’s not like exactly in a position of power right now either. 

The current position you’re in doesn’t offer much in terms of mobility. In fact, it’s much safer to say that you can’t move. They won’t let you. After all, you’re not theirs forever. In fact, if the mumbles you heard while you were being dragged away from the car and into the arms and cabins of the first group of people who got to indulge in your for the night were actually true, it sounds like you’re only here for half of their retreat. 

It’s a time frame that's just long enough for you to do your job. Just long enough for you to make them cum a few times while running down the clock. But also, just long enough for your clients to maybe consider keeping you for longer than what you’re supposed to be.

So long as you’re not completely opposed to the idea, of course. 

But at the moment, nobody is pitching your ideas. Nobody is talking to you about extending contracts or paying you under the counter if you just promise to stay a little bit longer than you’re supposed to. Nobody bringing anything of the sort up. Because they’re far too busy. Because they’re far too busy attending one of their meetings and wishing more than anything about how they desperately wish to have you. Or because they’re far too busy attending to you.

And you’re far too busy being attended to.

Right now, you’re not sure the chair whoever has you got on their lap is all that comfortable. It shifts and creaks and groans under the weight and force and pressure that’s under. It was meant for just one person to sit on, after all. Not one person, the hired whore he had sitting on his lap, and the all people currently surrounding the chair, trying to do anything in their power to have the hired whore help them get the release they’ve been desperately searching for. But things like this come with the job. The possibility of things getting rough. The possibility of things breaking. The possibility of them breaking you.

A very, very very real possibility given this particular crowd who is currently surrounding you. Including the special someone you’re currently sitting on. Although at this point, you’re more than comfortable calling that special someone by name. Because even if you didn’t know the voice right by your ear so well from all his appearances and from listening to his radio show during all the late nights when you would have to find your way home from work, you have a funny feeling that you would still be able to guess that guy with his cock buried in your ass at the moment is none other than Present Mic.

You’ve had a lot of gentle customers before. You’ve had a lot of people who never wanted to do more than just sit you on their lap and let one of your holes flutter and squeeze around whatever they put in their- fingers, strap-ons, dicks, vibrators, etc. You’ve even had a few people who wanted nothing more than to just have you grind against them while they kissed your lips and struggled to hold back their desire to mark you. Ruining the merchandise comes with a hefty fee, after all.

But Present Mic was more than just gentle. He was soft. During all the times you’ve been with him, he’s always made sure that his cock was plenty wet and you were plenty lubed up so he would cause any tears with that surprisingly thick cock of his. He would always give you ample time to adjust to feeling him inside of you and would allow you to move around as much as you needed to in order to get comfortable. But what made him stand out? What made it so you knew this was him? It was the fact that he was always humming and placing small, tiny kisses right behind your ear. Occasionally singing just loud enough that only you could hear about how you’re his pretty girl- his soft, sweet, gorgeous girl who deserves whatever she wants. 

And if he could sample your moans just to keep for himself, he would do it in a heartbeat.

But Present Mic and sweet murmurs and subtle rolls of his hips every couple of seconds to stay locked inside of you is just a far cry from the person who’s currently pounding away at your pussy at the moment. Once again- the blindfold keeps you from seeing just exactly who is causing you to whine and squeal as they manage to hits those spots deep inside of you that would have you drooling all over yourself if it weren’t for the cock in your mouth. But you have a funny feeling that it’s none other than Ersaerhead- the Erasure Hero. Because whenever you find yourself with Present Mic, you find that Ersaerhead never seems to be too far behind. Or in this case, in front of you.

And besides, you know those grunts of his a little too well. 

“Still so tight for me,” Eraserhead’s low mumble comes just by your ear, sending small shivers down your throat as his heavy tone only seems to add to the godly sensation of his cock dragging itself in and out of your warm, wet walls and keeping you stuffed full. He’s thicker than Present Mic by just a little bit. Such a fact makes it more appropriate for Present Mic always go for anal whenever the two of them get a chance to fuck you together. But doesn’t exactly make it all that easier for you to handle when Eraserhead’s tight grip on your thighs as he pries them up and open so he can fuck you harder than ever also jostles you in a way that has moving around Present Mic’s lap a little too. Something that the Voice Hero makes known to you by the way his own grip tightens around your waist to keep you in place as he tries his hisses and groans of pleasure. “Fuck, you make this who retreat worth it. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

You let out another whine at his words, eyes starting to water behind your blindfold from the intensity of his fucking and from the small wave of emotions rolling over you. To be honest, you didn’t know that. You don’t get very many details about the types of events you’re booked for. For this one, you just knew that someone wanted you to come with them and one of their co-workers for a little bit of morale-boosting during a worker’s retreat. You wouldn’t have guessed that this was a UA-affiliated event before you got here and started to hear all the voices of people who you know are only connected through that school. And you didn’t exactly have enough time to think about what all that entails before a few members of the group started pulling you to the side and pulling off your clothes while the others went to start their first round of meetings. 

So no, you didn’t know that. You know about their bodies. You know how they treat pretty girls like you. You know how they like to use the bodies of pretty girls you, too. And sure, you always get the funny feeling that when you’re being booked for events like this, you’re serving as more of a distraction than anything else. But you still don’t know the ins and outs of these types of events and what you do for the people there except to give them an excuse to pull off their clothes and release some stress. 

So Ersaerhead’s words inspire something warm inside of you. The feeling of being appreciated. The feeling of being appreciated for a little more than just your body. Perhaps even for your presence. But as much as you wanted to respond be a good girl for the man who’s taking the time to do everything in his power to make sure stuffing your pussy full of his cock feels as good to you as does for him, you can’t respond. You can’t respond to his question. You just can’t.

And it’s all because of that cock that’s currently kissing the back of your throat. The very same cock that in your mind, still seems nearly too large to belong to a human.

Because no matter how much you try to deep throat it- no matter how much you try to find inside of your mouth with your years of experience- you can barely make it down a few inches. You can barely make it past the tip. It’s frustrating. It’s so frustrating that you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut and control your breathing and just try harder. Try harder to flatten your tongue. Try harder to open your jaw wider. Try harder to get him farther down your throat. But the cock inside of your mouth is not just long- it’s thick. It’s heavy in your mouth and leaves you with nothing to do but struggle and make a mess of yourself as his precum mixes with your saliva and pools all around your lips.

But as frustrating as it is, you know that it’s okay. You’re okay. Because the booming voice of Japan’s number one hero- the booming voice of All Might- still takes the time to remind you that you’re off just how far you’ve gone from when you were first starting out. From when you were first servicing him. 

“There you go, sweetheart.” All Might groans deep and low. His voice is still radiant. It still holds clear. But there’s something particularly attractive about how well his low moans and grumbles of measure mix in with the rest of the sounds in the room. In your mind, it’s almost as attractive as whenever he decides to have his large, large hands cup your jaw in an attempt to ease the pain and soreness he knows you’re suffering from just so you be a good girl and do what you’re told for him. “You’re taking me so well this time.”

Naturally, isn’t the first time you’ve sucked off the Symbol of Peace. But this is certainly the longest he’s been down your throat without you having to spit him out and take in oxygen like it was stolen away from you by the trickiest of thieves. And because of that, he takes extra care of making sure that you’re as comfortable as you can be. He doesn’t fuck your throat like you’re sure he wants to. 

Though you suppose the fact that the R-Rated Hero is behind standing behind the chair at the moment- reaching around and over the men whose cocks in currently situated in both your ass and pussy in order to hold your hair back and guide your head in a way that would best suck on All Might’s cock like the lollipop she keeps reminding you that it is. 

Although Midnight’s help in directing the scene isn’t quite necessary for you to have a good time anymore because years in this service have taught you how to speak up for yourself, you find that it’s much appreciated. There’s still some part of you that get so disoriented when someone ties a blindfold tight around your eyes while someone else forgets that you just can’t magically find the dick in front of you that someone wants you to jerk off. There’s still some part of you that appreciates another woman there, convincing you to push yourself harder and harder- reminding you of what your body’s true limits are too.

That, and the fact that she keeps whispering hushed words about how she promises she’ll take you aside tonight when everyone’s asleep and have you squirting all over her tongue the second she can get her hands on you is also very appreciated. And something you already know you’re looking forward to. 

But that’s a couple hours from now. And as good as the future sounds, what you’re dealing with presently certainly comes with its own excitements. Because just now, Present Mic has begun to roll his hips into yours a little faster, now finding it in him to empty his load inside of you. Though the fact that Ersaerhead had just now begun to reach down and let his skillful hands and find your clit- making you moan and whine “so sweetly for him, only” may have something to do with that. And it doesn’t help that Midnight had just guided your lips from All Might’s cock with a lewd and audible pop as she eased your head in a different direction so you could start sucking someone else’s dick. Much to the Symbol of Peace’s displeasure. 

But that’s just what you have to deal with when you’re servicing for a group. That’s just what you have to deal with a group has to share you for a retreat. There’s the added promise of having a pretty girl and all her holes open for use as long as she's treated well before, during, and afterward. 

But that’s not something you feel the need to concern yourself with. Any issues they have with each other, they can sort out with each other. There’s no need for you to get involved. There’s no need for you to step in at all. Because after all, you’re just the hired whore- the special little sex worker for Pro-Heroes and for Pro-Heroes alone. And besides…this retreat right now? This session right now?

It’s for you as much as it’s for them too.

[french-unknown]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

✔️ : complet 🔥 : smut

✧ 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐀 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐲 @𝐄𝐠𝐠_𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 🔥✔️

words : 5,214 Edwin agreed to make the cat king happy. He needed to get back to London and they had one simple rule. No sex. But that feline's got too many words, get's too far in Edwin's head. Oh well, it's only one night.

✧ 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐲 @𝐌𝐚𝐧_𝐈_𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞_𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐬 🔥✔️

words : 7,118 He stepped further into the room, thinking about his strategy as he mindlessly looked around the dance floor. And then he saw a familiar face in the crowd. The Cat King. He was dancing, his eyes closed. He seemed entirely occupied by the activity, his head was tilted back and his lips were parted. His body swayed into the beat of the music, his arms around a tall dark-skinned man. Edwin’s stomach tightened at the sight. ... Edwin and Charles visit a nightclub catering to supernatural clientele in hopes of getting a lead in their new case. Edwin spots a familiar face in the crowd. He is not happy about what he sees.

✧ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐭? 𝐛𝐲 @𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐬 🔥✔️

words : 14,663 After moving back to London with Charles, Crystal and Jenny, Edwin's path keeps crossing with that of a certain Cat King from overseas. As he focuses on his job as a detective, Edwin makes a series of discoveries that sparkle his own interest towards the other man, drawing him fatefully into the Cat King's claws.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @𝐈𝐧𝐓𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✔️

words : 6,179 The Cat King just so happens to be near the Dead Boy Detectives office definitely not on purpose at all in the slightest, and decides to pay a sleeping Edwin a visit. Curling up for snuggles in cat form isn't too bad, especially when he and Edwin are already together. Though when Edwin wakes up he can't help playing a bit of a harmless prank on him. So what will Edwin think and do when he wakes and realises a possibly random cat is snuggled up to him, non-stop purring...

✧ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐞 (𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮) 𝐛𝐲 @𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐬_𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✔️

words : 4,386 When Charles stepped silently through the mirror that had been installed in the Cat King’s “palace” for the first time he swore to never do so again unless it was a matter of life and death. The mirror was situated so that arrivals could be seen from the Cat King’s throne… If his view wasn't being blocked by the Edwardian ghost in his lap, that is.

✧ 𝐓𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈'𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 🔥✔️

words : 62,434 “How do you always know what I’m thinking?” “You’re easy to read, Edwin Paine,” he darts out a tongue to lap at the blood on his split lip and grins like he’s proven a point when Edwin follows the motion with interest. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, no matter how much you try not to.” “I think,” Edwin tries, but the hand around his neck is tight. He closes his eyes, because he likes it and because he really shouldn’t. “I think you look too closely.” “At you? Always.”

✧ 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐲 @𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐝_𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 🔥✔️

words : 39,346 A few months after their return to London from Port Townsend, the Cat King shows back up in Edwin’s life. He’s bent on courting Edwin, and has somehow acquired a magical collar that allows them to properly feel each other. Edwin meets him in secret, unsure of whether he’s ready to tell Charles about the relationship. In the meantime, business at the Dead Boy Detective Agency continues. They receive a case where a woman is trapped between life and death, tethered between the mortal realm and the beyond by a cursed sorcerer. But there may be more going on than meets the eye, and an Endless pulling strings from the shadows…

[familyagrestefanblog]

I've tried so many times making whole in depth posts about this, but I never get it done properly. So I'll just keep it very brief for now:

Marinette giving out every miraculous at the end of S5, so making a team of 16 additional miraculous holders now as full time heros she says she wants to help coming into their own as their leader and guardian, is the most hilarious dark red sign I've ever seen in this show

Marinette can barely handle Chat Noir being an individual with his own pov, actual emotions she has to acknowledge in her leadership, agency that isn't just catering to her and having human rights attached to his body (at least that she got better at in s5, although it's questionable how much that was influenced by her literally having no other choice in s5 but to treat him better. I guess s6 will put that into perspective)

and in s5 both Chat and Alya were two halves of ONE PARTNER bc Chat had to accept that he isn't allowed to exist as civilian in Ladybug's leadership, all while both Alya and Chat had to basically take care of her as their main job.

What makes Marinette THINK she can handle 16 new miraculous holders who act as individuals with existing LIVES, and not just being her chosen power vessels who can't act on their own?

Just the thought of it honestly makes me laugh because nothing in Canon implies Marinette's leadership can actually handle heros doing their own thing as individuals. She will have a meltdown when any of them act on their own as heros of Paris in any greater way.

Imagine Vesperia being put on spot by being near a robbery and her using her venom on a civilian person (the robber) and then Cerise has the police go up against her and Ladybug as the team leader for abuse of power?

Imagine Pigella using her powers on people who are having a personal fight and then her getting in trouble because she revealed the private wish of someone to everyone around them.

Imagine Kim and Max training alone by Ladybug's order, and Max making portals so Kim can improve his time to get certain objects from different places, and that resulting in people being pissed at the heros breaking and entering their private homes and taking their stuff however they please as "training"

Look, I don't wanna be mean but I give her a god damn WEEK before she starts giving teammates (100% Kim for example) Chat Noir's rag doll treatment and starting to yell and get angry again bc they're doing something she personally doesn't like at an inconvenient time, or something she gets in trouble for as their leader.

Before this the temp heros has the luxury of only having been ask to do exactly what Ladybug said as her minions and power vessels, but now that they are individuals?

Good gosh, it's gonna be a disaster. Cerise is gonna have the time of her life using the team and city again her lol

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

You know, I was just thinking about the UA entrance exam.

Specifically, how terribly designed it is, but not for the reason they seem to give in the story itself.

Like, here's how it is: Aizawa is shown criticising the UA Entrance Exam once, during the Sports Festival. And the ONE criticism he makes, is that the use of Robot enemies during the exam would disproportionately affect people whose Quirk work against biological opponents, essentially.

His one criticism, is that the exam is not designed to also cater to people like him, and that's it. The way therefore it's set up, it'd be logical to assume he'd ask for a restructuring to the exam to remove the Robots and substitute them with live enemies, possibly Ectoplasm clones.

This is never brought up again, aside from maybe a stealth bring up during the mid term exams when they switch the exam from fighting robots to fighting teachers.

The exam is, and I just got to it myself while watching this video about how Copaganda paints police training and the relative risk police officers face on the job, set up in a very specific environment:

An empty town, where what is essentially a murder spree is taking place. The ONLY entities in the place, outside of fellow examinee, are robots that have been literally designed to attack everyone on sight, and that need to be destroyed to pass. The points granted from saving people are hidden, so they can be more "genuine" of course, and are, ultimately, also part of the problem.

Because here's the fucking thing.

When the fuck is that ever going to happen.

When the fuck, is a superhero, after their 5 years of Hero training in high school, then entering the work force without a need for a decree in higher education, ever going to find themselves in an environment where they can use LETHAL FORCE on civilian targets? With no restraint or care for collateral damage?

And where they are ENCOURAGED to kill as many criminals as they can, and NOT collaborate with other heroes? Because that's another thing, you need to steal points from other people to pass, by culling the number of limited robots, much like heroes are paid by the arrest and by popularity.

You do understand how fucked up that starts to sound right? The other, the enemy, is reduced as a caricature Droid from star wars, there only to kill and destroy, and against whom your only TWO methods of defeat are outright destruction or sneak attacks on their off buttons.

And here's the cherry on the shit too, because, AGAIN, when is that EVER going to be the case?

Do you know how many heroes show up in the first villain attack in BNHA?

Five.

Two are engaging a purse snatcher, three are doing crowd control, the Slime Villain, who may I remind you was guilty of robbery at a convenience store before he got the hostage, gets THE NUMBER ONE HERO, as well as those same FIVE heroes involved, of which only BACKDRAFT is actually doing anything.

Now, imagine you are a hero school, and you produce 40 heroes a year, just like every other hero school out there. How many of those heroes will see active duty, if the rate of crimes demand FIVE heroes to react to ONE criminal?

And people will say "but EDS, this mentality is later rewarded when All Might retires and it all falls to shit," Except NOT REALLY, because that's an externally forced situation caused by, and I can't stress this enough, a hundreds of yeas old NEET boomer who read too many Doctor Doom comics as a kid and decided to become a supervillain, the riots, the open air warfare, is only caused by AFO forcing the hand and inciting popular unrest, which is an unrealistic thing to expect off any society.

In one of the movies, Class 1-A is sent to open an hero agency on a small island with barely a village on it. 20 Heroes. Until the movie truly picks up, the best they do is help kittens from trees, and Bakugou, the sort of person for whom the Entrance Exam was designed, is useless, left in his tent like Achilles, the perfect cowboy cop who peeked in highschool and didn't realize just how much paperwork and dead time his dream job actually entailed.

So that's the ACTUAL Issue with the entrance exam. It take no account for any other mean to beat the robots but brute force, it takes no account for collateral damage, or the sanctity of life of your opponents, and it tests nothing but how good at ending lives you are.

Which is a problem when you're picking future heroes.

[gerec]

For the past couple of weeks I've been part of a small team responsible for the logistics of a prestigious competition/event; last night was the formal Awards Banquet where we were served an amazing dinner catered by one of the city's best restaurants. During the breaks where we weren't running the show/working, I had a very long and in-depth conversation with a young colleague who's worked on this project all the way from the beginning planning stages (i.e. as far back as Feb/Mar this year). She shared her disappointment with the lack of acknowledgement that she's gotten from the agency's management for all the long hours and hard work she's poured into this project, and also the incredible frustration over the poor treatment she's getting from the same. For instance, she flew in from out of town, but because she's contracted to work 4 out of 5 days a week they're not paying her for today's travel day back home (which if you don't know is standard practice for event management - travel time is part of the job). This is just one of a long list of examples she shared with me.

The good news is, she's already decided to quit at the end of her contract (which is soon), but she still had some misgivings about doing so; like asking herself what, if anything, she could have done differently, and feeling like she failed because this is her first job out of uni and she couldn't make a longer go of it. For the record, she's an absolute delight and a superb employee - and if I were in a position to hire staff I would hire her in a heart beat. (Also she's been full time for a year and part time for 2 before that so...she's absolutely not leaving without giving it a go.)

I guess I'm sharing this story because there might be young people like her out there who need to hear what I told her last night. So here goes:

Yes, work can be frustrating and can suck - badly - at times, but you should not hesitate to leave any job where you're crying on a regular basis because of how stressful it is and how badly you're treated.

Yes, you should leave a job where your manager berates you regularly, or sends you emails on weekends/outside of work hours to berate you. If they have an issue with your performance, they should explain what you're doing wrong and help you or give you the tools to do it properly not just yell at you. I know this happens a lot (sadly) but also know that this is NOT normal and NOT something you simply have to suffer in silence over. You have every right to expect to be treated fairly, courteously and professionally at work.

Yes, you should leave a job where people take advantage of you and don't pay you for the hours you work. I read a lot about Gen X and Boomers lamenting the Gen Z's for not being good workers because they're not willing to put in the blood sweat and tears to hang on to their jobs but I'm Gen X and I say that's BULLSHIT. A) Not every Boomer/Gen X feels that way, and B) Employers, no matter how nice they are as people, or how much you might like them will absolutely take advantage of you and SCREW YOU if they can. You can and should fight for your every goddamned hard-earned/well deserved dollar because no one else will do it for you. Same goes for your career - you are the only one you can rely on to make the best decisions for you.

So why am I working with these guys? Well, I'm a freelancer (I'm a Marketing Consultant) currently going project by project so I have the freedom to say no to any job I don't want to take and also to walk away the minute it no longer suits me to continue the relationship. I've also been at this for 28 years, so I imagine there's a bit of reverse ageism going on because they know they can't pull the same crap with me. (So there you go, this one time in this one instance, being older helps lol).

Anyways, the job market is rough, many employers are appallingly rude to job seekers (ask me about ghost job postings some time UGH) and people can be dicks (water is wet ha). Just...know your own worth and don't feel bad about leaving something if it's not working - you owe loyalty to no one but yourself.

[mariacallous]

Zechariah Mehler wanted to see the swastika for himself.

It was September, and Milwaukee was abuzz over a mural that had gone up on the side of a commercial building in the city’s sixth district. Painted on slabs of vinyl affixed to the brick, the mural — a large rectangle about the size of the building’s ground floor — featured a background that appeared to depict mass graves, weeping mothers, drones and other scenes of carnage in Gaza.

At the center: a Jewish star with a swastika inside it, along with the words, “The irony of becoming what you once hated.”

The city council had passed a resolution condemning the mural, and local Jewish leaders had called to remove it. But the building’s owner, a Palestinian real estate businessman named Ihsan Atta, said he was making a principled stand against Israel’s war in Gaza. When a local mother splashed black paint on the mural and confronted him on camera, yelling, “What are you promoting for our kids to see?” Atta yelled back and had it repainted by the next day.

Any doubts that Mehler had about whether the mural was antisemitic were erased when he visited the site and, he said, saw anti-Zionist protesters harassing Orthodox Jewish teenagers.

“You had the Free Palestine group just screaming at these kids, you know, ‘baby murderers and Zionist pigs,’” he told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “It was aggressive, it was intimidating.”

So Mehler — a 42-year-old dreadlocked former tech worker known as “Zee” who used to work as a kosher caterer and run a blog about kosher food — said he decided to take matters into his own hands.

On the night of Sept. 14, he recruited his 74-year-old father Peter, a retired rabbi who is in poor health, to accompany him to the site of the mural. They brought an ax, a sledgehammer and a pry bar and went to work. Moving quickly, the two struck the mural and pulled the vinyl plates off the wall, in full view of Atta’s security cameras. Zechariah turned to one and flipped it off: “Double middle fingers,” the police report would later read.

The pair were derailed — and the incident nearly veered into violence — when a bystander who supported the mural tried to intervene. So Zechariah Mehler returned the following day to finish the job, prying the remaining panels from the wall.

Two weeks later, shortly before Rosh Hashanah, police came to his home. He and his father were arrested and charged with criminal damage to property, which in Wisconsin carries up to nine months of jail time.

Mehler says he knows that what he and his father did was illegal — in fact, he expected to get caught. But he’s convinced they did the morally correct thing, the only option that didn’t require them to ignore or shrink from a threat.

“It is certainly destruction of private property,” he said in an interview. “The question becomes whether or not [the mural] posed a tangible threat to the Jewish community. That’s our argument.”

Peter Mehler says that he, too, has no regrets. He lives with Guillain-Barre syndrome, a rare neurological disorder in which the body’s immune system attacks its own nerves.

“The last 10 years, I’ve been a shut-in, basically,” he said. “But this was an opportunity for me to have a last chance to be active about this message. We cannot allow Jews to be converted into Nazis.”

Now, the Mehlers are hoping to make their case in court. A preliminary hearing is set for Tuesday, though it’s unclear how the case will progress. At a previous court appearance, Zechariah Mehler called Atta profane names and, he said, tried to take a selfie with the mural’s owner to post on social media. Since then, a new district attorney has been sworn in to prosecute cases in Milwaukee, and he hasn’t yet commented publicly on this one.

The case has become a major flashpoint in Milwaukee, where Golda Meir grew up and first became active in the Labor Zionist movement, and where some vocal pro-Palestinian activists have brought a level of hostility to local affairs never before seen by the city’s Jewish community.

Over the summer, the chancellor of the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, whose main campus library is named after Meir, enraged some local Jewish groups by making a deal with his campus’ pro-Palestinian encampment; he wound up apologizing. A progressive Jewish member of Milwaukee’s city council, who’d co-signed a joint resolution condemning the mural, recently died by suicide, an act some of his friends say was motivated by anti-Zionist bullying.

The Mehlers’ case is also capturing attention beyond the city, where the question of how to respond to anti-Israel displays has flummoxed and sometimes divided Jews.

The leader of a group called Betar US, which advocates for Jews to be more forceful, even physical, in confronting the threats they see, invited the father and son to represent the organization in Milwaukee. The group also helped raise nearly $20,000 toward their legal fees.

Betar US is a reboot of a century-old paramilitary group originally founded by early 20th-century Revisionist Zionist leader Ze’ev Jabotinsky. Betar members have been involved in several altercations with pro-Palestinian demonstrators over the last year, and it has even gone after other Jews at times. The group is also collecting information about international students who participate in U.S. pro-Palestinian protests in an effort to get the students deported.

“My politics and Betar’s politics are very different. I’m not a right-wing guy,” Zechariah Mehler said. But he said the group’s president, the Jewish public relations executive Ronn Torossian, assured him, “This is more about, do you believe that Israel has a right to exist, that Jews have a right to live in peace?” Of utmost importance, he said, was that Jews should stop “just being meek and allowing ourselves to be threatened and walked over. So I said, sure.”

Torossian has called the Mehlers “heroes.” He said in an interview that their actions perfectly fit the nonprofit’s vision of seeing Jews publicly fighting back against perceived threats to themselves or Israel.

“The Mehler family is a big reason why we restarted Betar,” said Torossian, who said he grew up in earlier iterations of the movement. “It’s a shame that this man has to stand up and act alone. It’s a shame that this man is facing a criminal trial and the entire Jewish community is silent. That won’t continue. I can assure you, we’re going to get him more support.”

It does not appear that any of the support will come from local Jewish institutions and organizations, whom Zechariah Mehler derided as “deer in headlights” when it comes to the problems presented by anti-Israel activism.

A representative for the Milwaukee Jewish Federation and Jewish Community Relations Council reiterated the federation’s denunciation of the mural as “antisemitic for many reasons,” including that it promotes Holocaust denial and dehumanizes survivors and victims of the Holocaust. But the groups declined to comment further on the Mehlers’ case or on the mural’s actual removal.

The groups have in the past discouraged Jewish vigilantism: In May, amid intense activity at the UWM encampment, the JCRC advised local Jews not to counter-protest, saying that it could escalate a risky situation.

When the Mehlers sought to purchase an advertisement in the local Jewish newspaper, which is owned by the federation, they were rebuffed. “You come with an ongoing backstory that could present content and/or reputation challenges for a Jewish publication,” a federation executive wrote to Zechariah Mehler, in an email that JTA obtained. The official added that the federation “can’t put ourselves in a position where folks can even get the sense that we endorsed any actions of your past.”

Some in the city are sympathetic to the Mehlers. Matt Stolzenberg, a tattoo artist whose parlor had been located in the same building as the mural, has been outspoken about his distaste for it. Following its installation, Stolzenberg — who says he is not Jewish but has Jewish family — said he and his business partners moved his shop’s location at considerable expense, “specifically to avoid vandalism and other issues that a giant swastika will bring to a business.”

Some of his customers interpreted his move as “an anti-Palestine thing, which I’m not at all,” Stolzenberg said. “But I’m also just not anti-Jew, nor pro-swastika.”

Asked his views on the Mehlers’ case, he added, “I think that if I were Jewish, there would be no other option than to tear down the giant swastika mural.”

Atta installed the mural in place of a previous one erected in memory of Breonna Taylor, a Black woman shot by police in Louisville, Kentucky, in 2020 who became a symbol of nationwide racial justice protests that year.

After the first vandalism of the mural, by a local woman, Milwaukee’s city council issued a statement condemning the image as “hurtful and divisive” and saying that it “is not welcome in our community.”

“Some people look for any excuse to wave a swastika,” the council members wrote in their Sept. 14 statement. “It has long been a symbol of intolerance and hatred, designed to psychologically injure and oppress those who are different.” The council member who represents the district where the mural was located did not return a request for comment.

Atta also did not respond to requests for comment made through an intermediary. But he has consistently defended his mural, including at a press conference he held at the site shortly after the Mehlers tore it down. The conference was called by the Wisconsin Coalition for Justice in Palestine, whose co-chair is Atta’s sister.

“It was an artistic way of expressing the current genocide that is being perpetrated against the Palestinian people by Israel and which is being supported by our government and funded with our tax dollars,” Atta said of the mural at the event. He said the Star of David on the mural was not a Jewish symbol but instead pulled from the flag “of an apartheid regime” as a political symbol.

Adopting language popularized in large part by Meir Kahane, the far-right Jewish extremist, as a response to the Holocaust, he added, “It is a statement to say that ‘never again’ means never again for anyone.”

Several of his supporters wore black T-shirts emblazoned with the mural’s swastika design at the event, which was also attended by local members of the anti-Zionist group Jewish Voice for Peace.

Yet even JVP, which tends to back Palestinian-led protests that many other Jews find offensive and even antisemitic, acknowledged the mural’s provocations.

“We understand why it’s polarizing,” the Milwaukee chapter, which is a member of the pro-Palestinian coalition, wrote in a lengthy Instagram statement posted just prior to the mural’s destruction. “There is a legitimate critique that can be made about it, particularly concerning the language of the mural implying that Jews, whom the Nazis persecuted and exterminated during the Holocaust, have become oppressors not unlike the Nazis in regards to Zionism and Palestine.”

The statement, which the chapter’s co-founder, Rachel Ida Buff, read at the press conference, added, “It should be made abundantly clear that Judaism and Zionism are two different things, but it understandable how someone might read the mural as conflating the two.”

But the statement went on to conclude that Israel’s behavior was “far more reprehensible and antisemitic” than the mural, and that “it is not our or anyone else’s place to police Palestinians as they express their pain through creative means.”

Local JVP chapter co-founder Rachel Ida Buff, a history professor at UWM who is Jewish, told JTA she personally believed the mural “was meant to generate conversation, which it succeeded in doing.”

Buff added, “If seeing the image of a swastika in River West upsets people more than the images of murdered children coming out of Gaza, that is a moral problem.”

What upset Peter Mehler most when he saw the mural, he said, was thinking about his former congregants, many of them Holocaust survivors, at the synagogues he led in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, and Northbrook, Illinois.

“I was really outraged,” he said. “For them, this would have been extremely traumatic. And it was traumatic for me, too, to watch this guy take the Star of David and make it into a swastika.”

He rejected any comparisons between the Gaza war and the Holocaust.

“The war in Israel is nothing like the Holocaust, and I am offended by the idea that the Palestinians have turned this into us as offenders when they, in fact, were the attackers,” he said. “You know, once they attacked, then they have to realize that they opened up Pandora’s box, and anything that Israel did, they were responsible for.”

Both men said their activism had almost taken a dangerous turn when the bystander accosted them while they were ripping down the mural. The man “said to me, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know what genocide is. Describe genocide to me,’” Peter Mehler recalled.

The exchange triggered him, and he said he considered hitting the man with his hammer. But Zechariah said he “explained to my father that our methodology was not one that was intended to be aggressive.”

The bystander, Michael Gauthier, shared a similar account of the encounter during the Wisconsin Coalition for Justice in Palestine press conference. “I stood here on this curb and there was an angry man screaming in my face, waving a hammer, saying he was going to hit me with it,” he recalled. “Thank God that didn’t happen. Thank God his partner in crime talked him down a little bit.”

Family members tried to discourage Peter from joining his son in the first place, citing his health, both Mehlers said. But he insisted.

“It’s the responsibility of a rabbi to be the symbol of true north for the Jewish community,” Peter Mehler said. “We’ve got a symbol of antisemitism hung on a wall, and not anybody will speak out about it.”

Both father and son say they’re prepared to go to jail over their actions. Peter insisted things wouldn’t come to that and vowed to appeal any penalty. Zechariah, meanwhile, said he would relish the attention such a sentence would bring.

“You know what’ll happen if they put me in jail for this? Oh my God, then every Jewish organization would be on it,” he said. “Alan Dershowitz would be here. They don’t want that.”

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

WIP Wednesday- reverse sugarbaby au

Based off of this post that led me to a Sashnetra idea last week. Thank you to @sweetlikesunflowersandhoney for brainstorming with me

Anetra never intended to live her life as a social media starlet. If it was up to her, she’d compete in taekwondo until her body would make her stop. Then, she would coach until retirement. 

But that’s not how it worked out for her. She wasn’t bad at taekwondo, she was one of the top national competitors. It was getting scouted by an agent from a modeling agency that turned her career around. 

“You’re hot, and women’s sports are gaining a lot of traction right now.” the agency told her. “Just one photoshoot, that’s all we ask.”

One small photoshoot eventually became an Instagram account half a million followers and constant events and meetings with the press. They moved her from Las Vegas to Los Angeles as soon as her schedule got too packed for taekwondo.

After a few short years of reaching fame, another event was winding down to an end. It was for her new line of leggings with a brand she’s worked with before. Her face on the promotional banner was getting folded into a box as all the guests were gone. 

She watched the caterers take back all the food to the small kitchen in the venue. Her driver got a flat tire and was running late.

Anetra wandered down a nearby hallway that led to the kitchen storage. She stopped when she saw the lead caterer dispersing envelopes to the rest of them. 

“Here’s everyone’s schedule for next weekend’s charity gala at the downtown Hilton. It’s going to take a few hours for us to set up, so be there on time at 8 AM, sharp.” the lead caterer instructed. 

One woman with a long dark ponytail raised her hand slightly, “I asked off for next weekend, I’m taking my daughter to the zoo that day,”  she explained. 

The lead caterer shrugged, “Irene said that she was helping her sister move, so I needed someone to work her shift,” The woman’s eyes were looking at the floor as she nodded, “You can take your kid another day,” she said as she continued to talk about the gala instead. 

Anetra felt a pang in her chest as she moved out of view from the employees. This stranger somehow moved something in her. Maybe it was knowing her mom wouldn’t feel the same remorse, or maybe it was something else. 

The caterers left the huddle, moving to start their nightly jobs. Anetra peeked around the corner to see the same woman tuck the envelope in her purse on the table. 

“Maybe next time, Kerri,” she said with a small smile, standing alone.

“Sasha, can you start mopping?” another voice called. 

The woman nodded, “Yeah, I’m coming!” she called before leaving for the other room. 

Anetra knew what she needed to do. Just a simple random act of kindness for a stranger she’ll never meet again. 

[exitmusicforastory]

Conventional Weapons: Chapter Three

KRAKOW, POLAND

PRESENT DAY

Nadya keeps her head down as she walks down the busy downtown street. She is no longer encumbered by Apollo’s duffel bag, which she had disposed of for safety, dropping off an empty footbridge into the silent water of the Vistula. She had carefully memorized the contents of the file given to her by the now dead Agent Knowles, tearing it to shreds and scattering the pieces to the winds. Instead, the only thing on her back is her fitted black leather jacket. She shed her casual civilian clothes in exchange for a form-fitting black tank top, skirt and tights. A swathe of dark red lipstick coats her lips, and her eyes are rimmed in smoky liner. Her leather jacket does a fair job at concealing the firearm at her hip. Her intense gaze flits across every passerby as if scanning for threats. This street is enclosed nearly entirely by nightclubs, patronized by both the scum of the city and Krakow’s wealthiest politicians and socialites, though the latter would never admit to their involvement in this scene. It would be counter to the interests of the powerful if it became known that the vibrant underground nightlife didn’t only cater to the poor, ragged filth of the streets. The dark road is illuminated by the dim, flickering street lights, and the intermittent flashes of bright, colorful light from the open doors of clubs. However, there are places on the street where the brightness doesn’t reach. The darkness of the cracks and alleyways teem with the kind of illegal activity that this corner of Krakow thrives on. Every shade conceals something. Shadows sigh between illicit touches, and hazy smoke conceals other, more illegal affairs. Nadya continues down the street, passing countless people who seem to be trying not to be found. Perfect. Nadya also prefers anonymity. Her green eyes bore through the raised hoods and sketchy gazes of passersby.

She finally pauses by the door to a fairly busy club and turns her gaze to the entry. A sign over the door reads in dimly lit fluorescent letters: The Venus Lounge. A woman leans languidly against the stained cinder block wall of the building. Her already impressive height is emphasized by a pair of tall, red stiletto heels. Despite the bite in the air, she is dressed scantily, in a short black skirt and a sleeveless, fitted scarlet top. Her makeup is dark and sultry, giving her the appearance of haughtiness. She has long, dark curls pulled back into a high ponytail, olive skin, and coal-black eyes. Nadya nods when she catches sight of her, her expression giving nothing away. The woman smiles at Nadya and beckons her over. Nadya moves closer and leans against the wall beside her.

“I’m here for Sokołow,” Nadya whispers.

“He’s upstairs. Private suite,” she says, “It’s good to see you again, Scar.”

Nadya cracks a smile at the woman’s usage of her pseudonym and slips her hand into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a 20 Zloty note. She presses it into the woman’s palm. 

“You too, Moriah.”

Moriah pockets the cash and straightens, no longer leaning against the wall. Nadya’s heart twists. She knows Moriah, and more than that, she is her. Nadya may not sell her body in the same manner or for the same reasons as the woman beside her, but she knows what it’s like to have her agency stolen, her soul owned by another. She had long ago vowed to never leave another woman or girl in that position again, hence her mission. Eventually, she planned to not only take down the organization that victimized her, but also destroy every bastard who thought he had the right to own another’s body, spirit, or mind. She shakes her head, letting the dark thoughts disappear like a cloud of smoke. Nadya smiles and nods at Moriah once more, making her way towards the entrance. The second she leaves Moriah’s side, Nadya’s entire demeanor changes. Her posture straightens, her closed-off attitude dissipates, and instead she exudes an air of confidence and intrigue that can’t help but attract people. The corners of her crimson lips quirk in a seductive smirk. As she reaches the doorway, her gaze lands on the bouncer, a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black muscle shirt and jeans. He has a strong, intimidating presence, and his mouth is a harsh line. She waves at him as she passes, and he pulls the door open.

The music hits her like a shockwave of energy, absorbing into her skin. The room is filled with both the richest of high society folk, and the sort of person that society tends to forget. Countless lounge chairs and couches scatter the room, surrounding tables garnished by glasses of liquor. On the couches, young women, filthy with desperation, drape themselves over men, dripping in wealth. A haze of pungent smoke lingers in the air. Across the room, there is a glass-topped bar. Nadya steps into the room, and begins to weave her way through the crowd. Before she gets very far, she catches sight of a familiar man lounging on a nearby couch. He recognizes her at the same moment she sees him, and his face cracks into a charismatic smile. He opens his arms and beams at her, shouting out into the crowd.

“Scarlett! Well, well, well. I never thought I’d see you back here…”

The room falls silent for a moment, countless eyes falling on the redheaded woman. Nadya winces at being called out, and the sudden wave of attention directed to her, but recovers quickly. She smiles coyly and places a hand on her hip as she approaches her old acquaintance. The man beckons to her as she draws nearer, and pats a spot beside him on the couch. He shoos away the petite blonde who had previously been sitting on his lap. He is American, dark and handsome, dressed in an expensive tailored suit, yet the slur of alcohol in his voice, as well as a substantial knowledge of his past, disgusts her.

“Sit down, Scarlett. It’s been a while. I thought for sure you’d ended up dead in some gutter! Not uncommon for your kind. Would have been a shame, though, a gorgeous girl like you.” 

His voice drips bravado, like he is putting on a show. As she sits beside him, crossing her legs elegantly and leaning sideways onto her hand. She tilts her head and ignores his comment. 

“Oh, it has been forever, don’t you think, Matt?” she asks, her sultry accent lacing her tone.

Matt smiles and places a clammy hand on her upper thigh. Nadya has to suppress a shudder. She had forgotten how much she hates Matthew Allan, but now the feeling comes back in full force. She despises this wealthy American, who spends most of his time overseas, tempting and trapping the ragged, desperate women he meets into giving him sex in exchange for a hot meal or a roof over their head. Her fingers itch to grab her gun, but she resists. She smiles at him and presses a kiss against his cheek, her skin crawling underneath her flirtatious demeanor. 

“Actually, I’m here to see Vik.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Vik? Oh, he’s upstairs. He’ll definitely be glad to see you, but you’re not leaving just yet, are you? Stay here for a while!”

He tightens his grip on her thigh, sending shivers of disgust up her spine. Nadya moves her leg, escaping his hand. She sees his eyes darken, and realizes the danger. Rising from her seat, she brushes her leg off and winks at Allan.

“You know I can’t resist your charms. But I’m afraid this time I have to. Duty calls, you know.”

He sighs, but waves his hand, dismissing her in a way that makes her grit her teeth with annoyance. She ignores the slight on her importance and leaves Matt, squeezing between two dancing forms. The crowd now largely ignores her, which is much more to her liking. She maneuvers through the knot of people, traversing the familiar room, and making her way to the back staircase. She quietly opens the door and enters the dark stairwell. The second the door closes behind her, the world goes silent. She sighs in relief and sets her foot on the first stair. Nadya quickly makes her way up the empty staircase, relishing in the few moments of peace and quiet, before she reaches the door to the second floor. She hesitates, her hand frozen on the handle before turning it and stepping into another corridor. This one is dimly lit with glass wall lamps spaced evenly along the crimson wallpaper. The familiar room brings back memories of walking down this very same hall under very different circumstances. Her body is tense, and the defenseless feeling that she was once so familiar with returns. Her hand strays to the grip of her firearm, the weapon acting as a reminder. The rubber and metal grip feels like the only solid thing in her world. She has a gun, and a will to use it. She has no obligation to stay at the Venus Lounge. She clenches her hands into tight fists and reminds herself that she can leave whenever she wants. She is no longer Scarlett Vyronov, trapped and caged. She is Nadya Arkanova. She is free. Despite returning to this place that she once feared she could never leave, despite having to come face to face with Viktor Sokołow once more, she keeps her composure. Nadya is not the same person she was the last time she was here. She’s different now. 

Nadya reaches the last door at the end of the hall. It’s heavy, dark-stained oak with an ornate brass handle. She raises her hand to knock, but before she can, the handle turns and the door swings open. A man stands on the other side, built like a freight train, and dressed in a tracksuit. His head is shaved and his eyes are void of the light of intelligence. He’s a typical dumb grunt. If a confrontation were to occur, he’d only be a threat if Nadya were unarmed. But she’s not. She resists the urge to let her fingers stray to the handle of her gun. She slows her breathing and fixes her lips into a convincing replica of a smile. Unlike the last time she was in this room, she’s not vulnerable. She wears an armor that is her exact twin, with no chinks that can expose her weaknesses. She turns to the man by the door.

“I’m here to see Viktor Sokołow.”

Before the man in front of her can respond, another man’s voice rings out from inside the lounge.

“Let her in.”

 His familiar, menacing tone makes her shiver. She straightens her posture and walks into the room. Nothing has changed since she last walked through this door. The flowery crimson wallpaper and brass-accented wood remain the same. Her eyes scan the room, as if taking inventory of the dimly lit space. Three red couches, arranged around a central coffee table, a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the dark city, and a brass chandelier. The lighting has a faint red tinge, due to the overwhelming color scheme, and it gives off both an air of menace and of a strange sort of luxury. A private bar counter in the corner is unattended. Two men stand around the room, of a similar build and dress as the one that answered the door. A third man, with an ample frame, lounges on the center couch. His sparse hair is greying, and his tailored suit is strained at the buttons. His face is that of a well-fed vulture, cruel yet satisfied, like he’s gotten everything he wants in life, and wants Nadya to envy him. This face, which she knows all too well, breaks into a predatory grin.

“Scarlett! I always knew you’d end up back here.”

Nadya suppresses a wince, and against all instinct, steps closer to him.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Vik.”

Vik gestures to a spot on the couch beside him, and Nadya hesitantly takes a step forward, her shoes digging into the luscious, red carpet. He raises his hand and beckons her closer, his will acting as a magnetic pull on her body. She steps a little further, and sees his smile begin to reach his eyes, likely the result of him realizing that he can still control her. She despises herself as she continues to inch closer to him. As if sensing her hesitation, Vik drops his hand.

“Sit,” he commands.

Nadya sits, but not at the spot beside him. Instead, she sets herself on the sofa to his right, leaning sideways against the armrest and crossing her legs. The vulture’s smile sours, but he recovers quickly.

“What brings you back to Krakow, darling?”

Nadya’s body tenses at the use of the patronizing endearment, but she forces a smile.

“I moved back here last year with my… my husband.”

“Husband? You?” Viktor says, raising an eyebrow, “What a waste! We’ve missed having you here, you know.”

“Well, it didn’t work out so well,” Nadya replies, “He was… well, I left him. And he wasn’t happy, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Nadya inclines her head, and opens her mouth to continue, but before she can, Viktor holds up his hand to stop her. As if by force, her words freeze in her throat. She closes her mouth and her jaw clenches. Loathing bubbles up in her chest as Viktor begins to speak.

“So you’re here to return to work, I’d assume? That’s why you’ve come to see me.”

Nadya shakes her head, “No. I’m actually here to ask you for help.”

Viktor snorts and waves his hand toward one of his identical, enormous bodyguards. The man steps forward and leans down towards Viktor. Vik leans in and whispers something unintelligible into the man’s ear. He nods and straightens, crossing the room to the door and exiting. Viktor turns his attention back to Nadya.

“Help you? After you just turned down such a generous offer? No, darling. I don’t think so.”

Nadya tenses, leaning forward in desperation. She clasps her hands and looks Viktor dead in the eye.

“Please. I just need to get out of the country. That’s all I ask for, your protection.”

“And what have you ever done to deserve that?” he asks, cruelty dripping from his tone. His eyes are bright with malicious enjoyment.

“I worked for you for years. Please, I wouldn’t be here unless I was truly desperate.”

He raises his hand and beckons her closer. Nadya slowly rises from her seat, and her skin crawls as her feet carry her towards him. She steps forward until she is standing directly in front of him. Her entire body is tense, and she has to remind herself of the weapon she has concealed at her hip. Viktor reaches his hand towards her face, and Nadya can’t hide the way she flinches at his touch. Viktor seems to find it amusing, and smirks. Nadya freezes as his stubby fingers caress her cheek.

“Go on,” he says.

She swallows her disgust and continues.

“Please, Viktor. I’m begging you.”

“Good.”

As he speaks, the door opens. The man who had exited before re-enters, this time, with another in his wake. They step through the doorway, their large frames making the room feel smaller. One stands at either side of the door, blocking any attempt of hers to escape. 

“Shit,” Nadya whispers under her breath.

Viktor traces his fingers down her face and guides her chin down to look at him.

“You really think I’d let you just walk away a second time? After how useful you’ve always proven to be? Oh, Scarlett. I thought for sure you were smarter than that.”