#full-service law firm

[edictumlaw]

Navigating the Complexities of Real Estate in India: The Vital Role of Law Firms

Law firms are a vital part of a successful business. They provide legal advice and assistance to their clients, mainly in civil or criminal cases or business transactions.

There are many different law firms in India that offer services related to real estate. If you are planning to purchase a property, it is important to hire an experienced lawyer to guide you through the process.

Real Estate Transactions

The real estate sector in India has grown at a high rate over the last few decades. It is a major contributor to the country’s GDP and is expected to grow to $1 trillion by 2025, accounting for 13% of its total GDP. It has been credited to favourable government reforms in the housing sector, increasing disposable income, and easy home loan options from customer banks and housing finance companies.

There are several legal challenges that face property owners and investors in the Indian real estate market, which makes it important to seek the help of a law firm experienced in handling these types of issues. These include regulatory issues, frequent changes in laws affecting the sector, and language barriers.

Despite these challenges, the Indian real estate market is a growing industry. It has witnessed an increased demand for residential and commercial space as well as a growing population.

The growth of the Indian economy has led to a significant increase in domestic and international investment in the real estate sector. In addition, the government has launched various schemes to encourage investment in the sector. These include the Affordable Housing Scheme and the Pradhan Mantri Awas Yojana (PMAY).

As a result, real estate transactions have become increasingly common in India. The demand for residential and commercial properties has risen rapidly, and the price of real estate is likely to continue to rise in the future.

These transactions are often conducted through a realtor or broker who serves as the intermediary between the seller and the buyer. The realtor’s role involves marketing the properties to prospective buyers, negotiating prices, and handling any issues that may arise during the transaction process.

For example, a realtor may have to conduct a thorough search of the seller’s property to ensure that it is free of any liens or other claims. He or she may also be required to verify the legality of any contracts between the parties.

MZM legal is a leading law firm that has decades worth of experience in dealing with real estate issues and disputes. The firm offers a full range of litigation services, as well as advisory and expert assistance in cases involving real estate, commercial estate, landlord and tenant disputes, infringement of intellectual property rights and many more. It is a full-service law firm that provides cost-effective and practical advice to clients.

Due Diligence

Due diligence is a crucial aspect of real estate transactions. This is because it allows a potential buyer to carefully check out what they are buying and to see if it is what they are expected to receive for their money. This allows them to make a decision whether or not to proceed with the purchase and to avoid any future repercussions that may arise from their decision.

A law firm that specialises in this area will be able to provide their clients with the best possible advice and services. This is because they will have a thorough understanding of the market and be able to advise their clients accordingly.

They will also be able to offer assistance with legal disputes, particularly if the transaction is complex or involves high levels of risk. They will also be able to advise on the legal implications of various types of agreements and contracts, which are common in real estate transactions.

This includes mortgage deeds, transfer deeds, gift, lease deeds and other types of agreements that are commonly associated with property purchases. It is also a good idea to have a lawyer check the title of the property, if it is registered or not, and if there are any encumbrances that could prevent the sale of the property.

The process of conducting due diligence can be time-consuming and complex. This is especially the case where there are a large number of parties involved and where the process will require the involvement of other advisors. This is usually the case in commercial and corporate transactions where the legal and financial teams will be working together to ensure that the deal is structured appropriately.

In addition to this, there are a number of factors that can influence when and how the due diligence process is undertaken. For example, the bargaining positions of the parties will play a part in how long it takes to complete the process.

This means that it is important for the purchaser to get the due diligence completed as quickly as possible in order to avoid repercussions from the sale or purchase. This will mean that it is necessary to get the information from all parties as soon as possible, and this can be a difficult process for many people, so it is important to seek help from a solicitor who can ensure that the process runs smoothly.

Dispute Resolution

Property disputes happen all the time, and many of them can be resolved without the need for a trial. Disputes can occur over everything from a neighbor’s fence blocking your view of the yard to whether a home was built on an incorrectly zoned lot.

In these cases, a real estate dispute attorney can help. They can review the contract, read all documents involved in the case, and find out if there is a solution that does not require litigation. They can also gather and organize the evidence that will boost your case during a civil trial.

Another common form of dispute resolution involves mediation, which is a confidential process that is informal compared to a courtroom. It is often facilitated by an experienced mediator who works to resolve the dispute through communication between the parties.

Mediation is usually less costly than a courtroom trial and can be completed within a shorter time frame. However, mediation is not always successful and can end up requiring a courtroom trial.

Arbitration is a more formal process that involves a panel of trained arbitrators who decide the outcome of the dispute. It can be a less expensive alternative to litigation, but it can also be a more time-consuming and complicated process.

Negotiation is a more casual dispute resolution method that enables the parties to meet with a mediator or real estate dispute lawyer and discuss the case. Both processes can be beneficial for both sides and are sometimes a good way to avoid litigation in the future.

Legal remedies in Real Estate disputes in India vary from state to state, but can include damages awards, monetary settlements, and injunction orders. These remedies can be used to stop someone from doing something with their property, regain ownership of the disputed property, or recover losses incurred due to an injury caused by the disputed property.

When it comes to deciding how to resolve a real estate dispute, you should take the time to consider the pros and cons of each option. For example, if the dispute is over a small amount of money, you should be wary of recommending it to arbitration or conciliation because these options are not available in every state. Moreover, you should be aware that certain laws may prohibit the use of these methods in some situations.

Negotiation

In a negotiation, two or more people try to reach an agreement that is agreeable to all parties. Negotiators often use this process to resolve issues such as property disputes, sales contracts, and more.

In some cases, a law firm plays an important role in the negotiation process, as they are experts in the legal aspects of the transaction. They can also offer advice on how to negotiate the terms of a deal in a way that will benefit both parties.

A good negotiation starts with the exchange of information between both sides of the argument. This will help to clarify any misconceptions or assumptions that the parties may have about each other. It is also a good time to share any underlying interests that might drive their positions.

Once the exchange of information has occurred, it is then important to listen carefully and discuss any disagreements or concerns in a calm manner. This will help to ensure that both sides have a full understanding of the other's point of view and can move forward with their own negotiating strategy.

Another important factor in a successful negotiation is the attitude of the negotiator. A good negotiator will always aim to create a positive atmosphere at the table, and will strive to get the best outcome possible for everyone involved.

The key to effective negotiation is identifying the best strategy for the case at hand. This is a skill that requires experience and practice. It also involves studying negotiation techniques used by other people and trying to learn from them.

Identifying the key players: The individuals who are most affected by the outcome of a negotiation should be identified and invited to participate. This can be done through interviews or other methods. It is especially important to include any co-owners who are affected by the decision, as they can have a great impact on the final outcome of the negotiations.

This process can be more difficult if the parties have never met before, as they may not know each other's personalities or what each party is looking for in the deal. If this is the case, a law firm can play an important role in the process by helping to ensure that the negotiation goes smoothly and that all parties understand their responsibilities.

[ratatatastic]

when i say that forsblad ring picture has law firm vibes this is what i mean

[postsify]

Full-Service Law Firm in NJ Specializing in Personal Injury Attorneys in Woodbridge

Finding yourself injured due to someone else's negligence can be overwhelming. Many people don't realize the vital role legal advice plays in these situations. Not only does it ensure your rights are protected, but it also maximizes your chances of receiving fair compensation. For those living in New Jersey, particularly in Woodbridge, knowing where to turn is crucial. This blog post aims to guide you through the maze of personal injury law and highlight the benefits of working with a full-service law firm in NJ specializing in personal injury attorneys in Woodbridge.

Overview of Personal Injury Law and Common Types of Cases Handled by Personal Injury Attorneys

What is Personal Injury Law?

Personal injury law encompasses legal disputes that arise when an individual suffers harm from an accident or injury, and someone else might be legally responsible. These cases often involve intricate details that only seasoned attorneys can effectively manage.

Common Types of Personal Injury Cases

Car Accidents: Automobile accidents remain one of the most common personal injury claims. Whether it's a fender bender or a major collision, victims often face physical injuries and financial burdens.

Slip and Fall: Property owners are responsible for maintaining a safe environment. If you've slipped and fallen due to unsafe conditions, you might have a valid personal injury claim.

Medical Malpractice: Medical errors can lead to severe injuries or even death. Personal injury attorneys help victims secure compensation for medical negligence.

Understanding the Role of a Full-Service Law Firm and the Benefits of Specialization in Personal Injury Cases

The Comprehensive Approach of Full-Service Law Firms

A full-service law firm in NJ offers a wide range of legal services under one roof. This means they can handle various aspects of your case, from initial consultations to courtroom representation, ensuring a seamless legal process.

Advantages of Specialization in Personal Injury Cases

Expertise: Specialized personal injury attorneys in Woodbridge bring a wealth of knowledge and experience to your case, improving your chances of a favorable outcome.

Resources: Full-service firms have the resources necessary to thoroughly investigate your case, gather evidence, and consult experts, which can be crucial for complex personal injury claims.

Personalized Attention: Specialized firms can offer more personalized attention, tailoring their approach to your unique situation and ensuring you feel supported throughout the process.

Highlighting the Expertise and Experience of the Law Firm in Woodbridge, NJ

Proven Track Record- The law firm in Woodbridge, NJ, boasts years of experience in handling personal injury cases. Their attorneys have a deep understanding of New Jersey's legal landscape, enabling them to provide expert guidance tailored to local laws and regulations.

Skilled Legal Team- The firm’s team comprises dedicated professionals who specialize in various aspects of personal injury law. Their collective expertise ensures that every case is handled with the utmost competence and care.

Successful Outcomes- Their history of successful outcomes speaks volumes. By securing substantial settlements and favorable verdicts, they have helped countless clients rebuild their lives after devastating injuries.

Exploring the Consultation Process and How the Firm Guides Clients through Their Legal Journey

Initial Consultation: The initial consultation is a crucial step. During this meeting, the attorneys listen to your story, assess the merits of your case, and provide an overview of the legal process. This lays the foundation for a strong attorney-client relationship.

Case Evaluation: Following the consultation, the firm conducts a thorough evaluation of your case. They review medical records, gather evidence, and consult experts if necessary. This comprehensive approach ensures that no detail is overlooked.

Legal Representation: From filing the necessary paperwork to representing you in court, the firm handles every aspect of your case. They keep you informed at every stage, ensuring you understand your options and the potential outcomes.

Discussing the Firm's Commitment to Personalized Attention and Transparent Communication with Clients

Client-Centered Approach- The firm's client-centered approach sets them apart. They understand that every case is unique and tailor their strategies accordingly. This personalized attention helps build trust and fosters a collaborative relationship.

Transparent Communication- Open and transparent communication is a hallmark of their practice. Clients receive regular updates on their case's progress and can easily reach their attorney with any questions or concerns. This transparency ensures that clients feel supported and informed throughout the process.

Supporting Clients Beyond Legal Representation- The firm's commitment extends beyond legal representation. They provide resources and support to help clients cope with the aftermath of their injuries. Whether it’s connecting them with medical professionals or offering guidance on financial planning, they go above and beyond to assist their clients.

Navigating the Complexities

Navigating the complexities of personal injury law can be daunting, but you don't have to do it alone. A full-service law firm NJ specializing in personal injury attorneys in Woodbridge offers the expertise, resources, and personalized attention you need to achieve a favorable outcome. Whether you've been in a car accident, suffered a slip and fall, or experienced medical malpractice, their dedicated team is ready to guide you through every step of the legal process. Take the first step towards securing your future—schedule a consultation today and discover how they can help you reclaim your life.

[uaelegaladvocates]

UAE LEGAL ADVOCATES

Founded in 1995, AWS Legal Group draws inspiration from Hammurabi, the pioneer of the first legal code in history. We are dedicated to protecting the rights of our esteemed clients, which has driven our significant growth and numerous successes. Our exceptional team of specialized lawyers, operating across MENA and the UK, brings unparalleled expertise and dedication to every case, ensuring top-notch service and outstanding outcomes. A full-service law firm in UAE, providing comprehensive legal solutions for all your legal needs.

[aaravr902]

Trilegal: Leading Mumbai Legal Landscape Among Law Firms

Trilegal stands at the forefront of Mumbai legal landscape among law firms in Mumbai. With two strategically located offices in Fort and Lower Parel, Trilegal has solidified its position as a market-leading corporate law firm. Since establishing its first office in Lower Parel in 2001, Trilegal has rapidly expanded its presence, becoming a powerhouse of corporate transactions and advisory work. The inauguration of the second office at Fort in 2021 further strengthens its Dispute resolution practice. Boasting a seasoned team of over 400 lawyers, our Mumbai offices offer expertise across various practice areas, including Corporate Law, Banking and Finance, Capital Markets, Real Estate, Funds, Competition, Restructuring, Tax, and Dispute resolution. With a relentless focus on client satisfaction and a deep understanding of legal intricacies, Trilegal continues to be recognized as one of the premier law firms in Mumbai.

[lawofficesofzulualiassociates]

Law Offices Of Zulu Ali & Associates, LLP

The Law Offices of Zulu Ali & Associates, LLP is an award-winning attorney and law firm that provides a full range of legal services. Our team of experienced attorneys are dedicated to provide the highest quality legal advice and representation for our clients. We strive to provide our clients with the best possible service and results. We are committed to provide our clients with the highest quality legal advice in a timely manner. Whether you need help with a simple matter or complex litigation, we will work hard to ensure that your case is handled efficiently and effectively.

[enviedear]

my modern!jace hcs and thoughts…

request ⊹ jacaerys masterlist

౨ৎ ┄───────╮ got a bit carried away with what was supposed to be hcs... but i can't help it! modern!jace scratches an itch somewhere in my brain—especially lawyer/law student!jace. don't question the family dynamics too much for this au. i don't have the brain capacity to rearrange and fix that mess <3

╰───────┄ ౨ৎ

twenty-two and a recent graduate. he majored in law with a minor in public policy. his younger brother, lucerys, makes frequent comments about how boring it all must be, but jacaerys velaryon loves it. he’s following the family line, after all.

he took office at one of his mother’s law firms, a by-product of having a family in the affairs of state. however, the firm is actually headed by his mother’s aunt, rhaenys. his mother, rhaenyra is in the middle of an election, running opposite otto hightower—a man jacaerys is lax to admit kinship to.

on paper he’s an associate, in practice, he’s whatever his family and their board need him to be. he likes it that way—being dependable.

he has such a large family, even disregarding those somewhat estranged. if you asked him to directly place everyone to their respective titles he couldn’t, so he settles for the ease of endless uncles, aunts, and cousins.

his schedule is usually packed—so when he is free, he likes to spend his time well. his best friend, cregan, gets him out of the house most the time. an easy task since the stark family owns numerous ski resorts. a perfect respite from his life of public service, at least that’s what cregan says.

jace absolutely hates the media, not necessarily social media though. his instagram stories are frequently full of reposts or camera roll dumps, his twitter constantly active but he mourns public likes. he loves to engage with factitious headlines about himself and his family, to his mother’s chagrin. he’s blocked on all social media by the estranged hightower news, headed by his mother’s old friend turned step-mother, alicent. a topic the family attempts to gloss over when in public.

has a laundry list of fashion houses at his disposal. he went viral once for “mogging” in armani at his grandfather’s funeral. he drunkenly admitted after the service that he figured viserys would have deemed it a rather lovely suit, despite the occasion. mostly, he shares his uncle laenor’s love for couture, a man who is firm in belief that a bit of pageantry never hurt anyone. almost exclusively wears canali for everyday wear, a luxury his paychecks find no issue with fulfilling.

listens to every single book he 'reads'. his airpods are constantly in his ears but he rarely opts for music. he listens to the greats on repeat, or at least that's what he calls them—near constant loops of orwell and machiavelli. he has a guilty pleasure for brandon sanderson novels though.

jacaerys is embarrassed to have a chauffeur for any and all events with his family, but he does an excellent job at hiding it. he’s is chronically good at masking any signs of disdain. his family would tell you he’s perfectly agreeable— his brothers, lucerys and joffrey, know him better, can spot his muddled ill temper through anything. he can hold his tongue most of the time, far better than the rest of his family, but he’s known to have his moments.

on his own, he drives a aston martin valour. wrapped olive green with burnt orange accents. it was pricey, a fact his uncle corlys never ceases to remind him of, but he loves it. gave it a name and everything—vermax.

the only cousins he talks to regularly are the twins, baela and rhaena. they flock together during board meetings, three ideal images of the pristine image their family attempts to portray. he and baela are most like minded, so much so that the rest of the board jokes they’re reading each others minds.

on the opposite end of the spectrum, alicent’s children— aegon, aemond, and helena, are of much different minds. the eldest of the them is prepped to take over his grandfather’s media empire. a complete disaster waiting to happen given aegon’s incessant and very public bad behavior. jace figures the young man more of a puppet if anything. the second born is somehow an even worse case, behavior less public but far more… sadistic. aemond is known in well to do social circles for his vitriol, mouth constantly fixed to land a cutting blow.

the youngest, helena, is actually quite sweet albeit heavily reclusive. she’s the founder of several successful ventures, thrust into the spotlight at a young age. these days the most the public get from her is a monthly blog update—refined and well crafted—detailing a mix of what she learned that month and a few run-on sentences about insects. but she always finds time for him at their disjointed family events, no matter the animosity in the room. she’s one of his favorite people to talk to. jace swears that somehow, she always knows just what to say.

on sunday’s he winds up at one of his uncle daemon’s golf courses. am agreement he took up after the death of viserys. his uncle is lonely without his brother, and he’s never had to tell jace that for him to know it. jace is rather shit at the sport, but he’s found that as long as daemon has a drink in his hand, nothing will be commented on. sometimes luke will tag along just to gloat, his younger brother has always been at golf.

every christmas he takes his siblings on a hunt. just like their dad, harwin, used to. it’s gotten to be a big deal after so many years. his mother often reminds him, jokingly, that he is the reason their home has become the holiday stomping grounds. he’s replied back many times that at least that saves them from the hightower’s grounds, and their brutish security detail. headed by one criston cole, he’s has never gotten a good feel for the man—or the men under his command.

jace can’t fall asleep without some form of auditory stimulation. he blames laenor, always gifting a young jace pirated lullaby cd’s… for some reason. nowadays, he’s usually a listening to a history podcast before bed. never picky on the topic or timeframe, he could listen to the tales of the past forever.

additionally—jacaerys loves linguistics. if you looked through his search history you’d find the following searches: why do we feel different when speaking in a different language? / are there languages with no numbers? / what happened to the transatlantic accent? / “where did the word ‘cocktail’ come from?

he has successfully created and maintained a masked dj persona after a drunken dare in ibiza from rhaena. he’s booked a handful of gigs, all without his name attached to it. rhaena keeps it a secret, at the promise she gets to accompany him at her own whim.

jace has only ever publicly has had one relationship. he dated cregan’s half-sister for a few years, sara. sure he had to deal with his best friends griping for a few years, but he really did love the girl. they broke up due to their schedules, moreso, his schedule. he promised baela he won’t make the same mistake in his next relationship.

he never has trouble finding people to fawn over him, but he does have a horrible issue with committing. not that he wants to play the field or hurt hearts, but he truly believes no one will ever give him the grace he needs to feel secure in the relationship. he feels like he already has too much baggage, carrying his own and his family’s. at this point, he’d rather have a few hookups as opposed to being let down—jacaerys hates that the most about himself, above all else.

that’s why he so confused as of late. unable to seem get his mind off of someone—something completely unaccustomed to him. you’re fresh at the firm, relegated to coffee runs and still straight to the book but god—jace thinks you're perfect.

he didn't even fully grasp his fixation on you until asking himself why on earth he keeps volunteering you to sit in on his client meetings. he almost shutters everytime he remembers the stupid excuse he forced out after you dared to ask him why—"i just write so slow, and i don't want to miss anything." a lie. jacaerys could tune out a client for an entire session and still win a case, but he determined early he'd rather bask in yout presence instead. however diluted he must keep his feelings...

[edictumlaw]

Edictum Law and Co:Setting the Bar for Law Services in India

India is a country that has been experiencing rapid economic growth in recent years. This growth has led to an increased demand for legal services, making the legal sector in India one of the most sought-after professions. One law firm that has gained a lot of recognition in the country is Edictum Law and Co. In this blog, we will explore what Edictum Law and Co. is, the services they offer, and their contribution to the legal sector in India.

What is Edictum Law and Co.?

Edictum Law and Co. is a leading law firm in India, founded by three young and dynamic lawyers, who have vast experience in handling complex legal issues. The firm has its headquarters in Delhi and has a team of highly qualified and experienced lawyers. The firm specializes in various areas of law, including corporate law, commercial law, intellectual property law, and dispute resolution.

Services Offered by Edictum Law and Co.

Edictum Law and Co. offers a wide range of legal services to its clients, including:

Corporate Law:

The firm specializes in corporate law, including mergers and acquisitions, joint ventures, corporate restructuring, and corporate compliance. The team has a deep understanding of the legal and regulatory framework governing the Indian corporate sector and provides practical and innovative solutions to its clients.

Commercial Law:

Edictum Law and Co. offers legal advice on all aspects of commercial law, including contract drafting and review, commercial disputes, and compliance with the various commercial laws in India.

Intellectual Property Law:

The firm has a dedicated team of lawyers who specialize in intellectual property law, including trademarks, patents, copyrights, and designs. They assist clients in protecting their intellectual property rights and also advise on licensing and franchising.

Dispute Resolution:

Edictum Law and Co. has a team of skilled litigators who represent clients in various courts and tribunals across India. They have extensive experience in handling complex disputes, including commercial disputes, arbitration, and mediation.

Contribution to the Legal Sector in India:

Edictum Law and Co. has made significant contributions to the legal sector in India. They have been recognized as one of the best law firms in Delhi, India and have won several awards for their outstanding legal services. The firm has also been involved in several pro bono initiatives aimed at providing legal assistance to the underprivileged sections of society.

The firm has also been actively involved in promoting legal education in India. They regularly conduct workshops and training programs for law students and young lawyers to help them understand the nuances of the legal profession.

Conclusion:

Edictum Law and Co. is a leading law firm in India that has established a reputation for providing high-quality legal services to its clients. The firm's commitment to excellence and innovation has earned them a place among the top law firms in the country. Their contributions to the legal sector in India are significant, and they continue to play a vital role in shaping the legal landscape of the country.

[fairytsuk1]

get on your knees | (s)

apart of maki's kinktober: the 2024 anthology

prompt: creampie, praise/degradation, secretary!au

pairing: shota aizawa x reader

words: 6.4k

warnings: unprofessionalism, boss/secretary relationship, dom/sub themes, impact play, degradation and praise, strangers to lovers, creampie, body worship

"Yep. Yep, thank you. Call us again if you need further help. Our way is the right way. Thank you. Goodbye."

How much longer could you keep this up? Between shrill old ladies desperate for solutions to their self-caused issues and the men who wanted to turn your customer service line into a phone sex hotline, you were running out of both patience and sympathy.

You knew it'd be dull work when you applied. It was in the name: customer service representative. You didn't mind. Dull work meant working as a stocker and meticulously organizing food products. It meant waking up early and chatting with the same group of people over the same brand of weak coffee every day. It could be meaningless; it could be meaningful.

Your temples are rubbed by your fingers, aching for relief, and you wonder if your company is any good with benefits after you've quit.

Real people were missed by you. No more old women and pervy men. You wanted something substantial. Something real, something alive. You decide you need to get outside, away from the phone. Your poised, fake voice was due for a break.

Your lunch is subbed for an afternoon walk. The same route you always take, the same things you pass by like always. It's all the same. Trees bend and sway under the will of the wind, and you find yourself looking down at the ground. Did you always do that?

The coffee shop is bustling, the bookstore is closed, and the park is full of screaming, laughter, and joy. The police station looks lifeless as always, but the local lawyer's office is… open, shining and bright, and strangely standing out. The actual building is cream and desert colors, yet its sign has bright bulbs exclaiming help wanted.

In tiny font under the main signage, you read "secretary."

It would be dull work. Lawyer jargon, a hot lawyer who you hear from around town is to die for. Like smooth chocolate. Your sneakers pad on the ground before you're even aware of it, carrying you past the threshold of oak doors into the domain of law.

Inside, it's dark and stormy. It is entirely opposite to the outside, making your head spin. It's quiet, and your footsteps echo as you traverse the halls looking for the lawyer. There's no one at the secretary's desk, and you can't help the daunting hand that runs over its ridges as you pass by.

Another oak door sits menacingly ajar. You press forward. Your heart stutters in your chest, butterflies hatching as you see him sitting cleanly, sexy and firm.

There he is. He's got inky black hair pulled neatly into a low bun; your breath catches in your throat when stormy dark eyes pull up from paperwork to you. You feel so exposed, so on display, as you fidget and murmur, "Hello."

He's quick to the chase, "Are you here for the secretary job?"

The lawyer's eyes scan yours, and you find yourself nodding; too afraid to speak further. His eyes then trail over your form, and you wonder if your work-from-home outfit was too casual. How would you have even known you'd have encountered this icy gentleman during your typical stroll?

Aizawa is grateful that the prettiest candidate will come in on his break. He could forgo lunch for you; he'd be fine having that sweet pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

"Hm. Resume?"

Your empty hands are glaringly obvious. Your purse hangs heavy and resumeless on your shoulder.

"I, I don't have–I didn't bring one, I mean."

"Did you see the ad in the paper?"

"No. I was walking and saw the lit-up sign."

"... I see," he drawls, still eyeing you before motioning to the seat in front of him.

Sinking into the cushion, you try to look presentable as you cross your feet–the rip of your stocking just barely visible from where he sits at his woodsy desk. He stares at you before asking.

"What talents do you have?"

"I'm a very hard worker," you pitch softly. "I won several typing awards in school."

He says nothing to that; maybe you've said or done the wrong thing. His hand rubs at the stubble on his chin, and your throat dries up at the various rings decorating his long, pale fingers. You would give anything to feel that scruff between your thighs, nails leaving indents as he plants kiss after kiss up your leg.

"It's very, very dull work. Perhaps too dull for you."

It's an opening. A job you can practically taste on the tip of your tongue.

"I don't mind," you add. "I'll do anything."

The terse stare you both share leaves you sweating. What were the chances: no resume, lack of secretary experience, and you wore ripped stockings. He licks his lips, eyes flickering up and down before nodding to the side.

"Please make me a coffee. Not too much sugar."

You're up in a heartbeat as you grab his half-empty cup. Suddenly, it's obvious you don't know anything about the building you're in as you head to the first door: "It's not that one."

The second one is a bust, and the third opens you up to his quaint office kitchen. Coffee was easy! Sure, you spilled a few coffee grounds and milk. Maybe you struggled with the machine as it brewed its ground beans. In the end, the mug sits hot and ready on his desk. You're ready for him to say it's perfect. That he'll reward you with a black coffee-tinged kiss.

"Too much sugar," he grimaces a bit. "Be here tomorrow at eight a.m."

You were in the parking lot by seven.

He never reveals too much to you. You still don't know so many basic things, even though you know how he likes his coffee, and you've seen how he does push-ups in his office when he's stressed. You see everything and nothing. It's agonizing.

The work is dull. You like it. It's typing letters, queries, and correspondence; it's all stuff Aizawa could be doing but chooses you to do. It makes you feel special in a sick way. You're stumbling from a bump in the carpet as you set a stack of papers on his desk. There is one problem, though.

"I alphabetized all the clients, sir," you say firmly.

"Thank you," he always says your name in that smooth drawl that leaves you drooling.

You're waiting. Waiting for those two words or even a glance up at you. He only sips his steaming coffee and peruses through the paper like you're not even there.

"Is there something you need?"

There was just one problem.

"No, sir," you say. "Sorry."

He never praised you. Aizawa hums, and you're turning on your heel. That took forever to do, and all he could say was, "Thank you." Was it wrong to ask for praise from your boss? The deep boom of his voice shakes you from your thoughts as he calls out after you.

You return like a dog, face alight and waiting. A stir in his gut has Aizawa hot at the back of his neck.

"That outfit… it's sloppy. You represent me. Your hair has flyaways, you leave crumbs everywhere, and you're messy."

Your boss stands and takes measured steps toward you. You're shrinking like prey under his gaze as he jabs at your faults.

"You make typos. You spill coffee grounds when you make my coffee." he's in front of you now, looking down and so close you can feel his breath. "You wear ripped stockings."

"I-I—"

"Don't say anything. Just look, and listen to me."

He is oh so pleased when you nod obediently. What a good girl.

"You represent me. You are the first person clients see when they come seeking my legal counsel. You could put in a little more effort, right?"

You're unsure of an answer. Silence or confirmation? Your knees knock together, "yes, I could."

There's a beat of silence. It seems so loud in the room.

"Good."

You wanted to sink to your knees then and there with an open mouth. An open throat. Aizawa sighs, seemingly relieved, as two big hands clasp onto your shoulders.

"Go home. Take the long way. Look at the sky and the trees and the stray cats. Pet one," he murmurs, and his fingers flick your chin. "Go and enjoy."

Just like that, he's edging away from you like he'd never gotten so close in the first place. Your heart stirs confusedly in your chest, battered from the pointed insults but feeling like they've freed you from any preconceived notions you had regarding your boss and you.

He thought you were good.

It was as if you'd never taken a walk before. Things were bright and so fruitful that there was a natural skip in your step as you brought yourself past the trees, the fountain made of marble with an angel sitting pretty and the people out and about. That joy carried you all the way home. You couldn't get how he looked at you out of his head as you flung yourself upon the bed.

You try practicing how you'd thank him, but it all comes out stilted. Unsure. Who was Mr. Aizawa? Did he like being thanked? You knew what you liked. Your hand brushes against the edge of your underwear as you recall how he'd murmured, "Good."

It just feels right to rub your clit and imagine your boss doing it for you with his hands coated in silvery rings. It'd be a mix of hot and cold as he rubbed at your pussy, "My, you're so wet for me. You really are so naughty."

Your hand twisted tight circles as you ground against your palm, face hot and panting into the sheets as you mewled for Aizawa. The syllables were foreign on your tongue, but you find yourself cumming with a cry of Shota!

After that, it was impossible to stay professional for very long.

Since those harsh criticisms, you'd started putting your all into the little things. New stockings on sale that highlight the smooth expanse of your leg while tucked into dainty kitten heels. You wiped up your mouth and counters after lunch and coffee. You were representing him.

Aizawa had noticed your preening. It was eerily similar to his cats. You would linger in front of him, waiting for a treat. He sighs, sinking into his chair, lids burning with the idea of you on your knees or bent over in front of him. He has to be careful when that familiar twinge of arousal wakes up more than just his mind. His hand comes to palm over the half-chub, but then your voice is filtering in over the phone.

"Sir? Miss Midnight is here," you murmur, and he grips himself over his slacks with a soft groan.

"Tell her I'm not here."

"I think she knows you're here," you say, eyes flickering between the phone and the woman herself, who flips through a magazine.

"Do not let her come back here. It's an order."

There's a click, and you're gone. You always listen so obediently. It was his favorite thing. Midnight's voice rings out from behind the grand wooden doors, your voice mixing into a beautiful tone of harshness and softness. He can hear how your chair scratches against the floor as you stand, guarding his office protectively.

"I know he's in there!"

"He is not," and you're puffing your chest out with a confidence that you're unsure of its origin. "You must come back another time."

Aizawa pants into the open air at your sweet little voice, trying to be commanding. He has to grip his base so he doesn't spill his load all over his black slacks. It grows quiet, and he knows the knock of your hands from memory.

"Come in."

You're hesitant, hands coming in front of you to fidget before you're forcing your hands by your sides. The pressure of Aizawa's presence has a hold over you that you can't shake. "She left. She said she'd be back tomorrow."

Lecherous eyes take in the loosening of his tie and how he relaxes instantly at the relief. He looks warm, if a bit debauched.

"I see," and he's staring at the ceiling before lazily trailing his eyes back down to your body. "Come here."

Soft feet pad even closer. You're not sure if you're even breathing.

"Thank you for listening. You are good at what you do.

"Thank you, sir."

He lets the stillness linger in the air, watching how you step even closer. You wanted a treat.

"Another thing. Where did you buy that skirt?"

"... At the department store."

His mouth flattens, and he hums, reaching into his wallet. " It's nice. Buy yourself something off the rack, not from the sale section."

Your face burns bright as he slides the cash over. This feels strangely good. You knew it was wrong, but you just couldn't help yourself. It was a substantial amount—too much for a boss to give to his secretary.

"Am I… allowed to take that?"

Aizawa smirks coolly, "I just gave you permission to."

The implication of his words leaves your legs crossing, much to your boss's amusement. He tells you to take the day off, and he's so soft this time. No harsh criticisms. All he wants to do is take care of you; the stack of money is comforting as a couple hundred sits heavy in your bag.

You buy a cute two-piece suit. It accentuates your curves nicely, and you can't help but wonder if Aizawa would feel the same. Adding a few accessories you don't think he'd mind, a gold choker glints at you, and you look around before shoving it to the bottom of your shopping bag.

He doesn't even comment on it. Of course, he doesn't. Your fingers click the keys with a bit more anger than normal. Who gives you money to buy an outfit and then doesn't even compliment you? Your boss, that's who. Fingers rip the written communication from the typewriter with a huff.

You're about to go to him, but he's coming to you first. Your breath stutters in your throat at how his eyes pierce you with every step. Aizawa stops and flicks the paper onto your desk with narrowed eyes, "can you tell me what this word says?"

"I-Indelible."

"And this one?"

He points to another word circled in red and your shy eyes are batting up at him, "rash…"

"So I didn't hire an illiterate typer, that's good. But then that means there must be a reasonable explanation for these glaring typos, hm?"

Aizawa's fist bangs on the table as you neglect to respond, "I–no, sir…"

He leans close till you can feel his breath on your lips. You're shaking and unsure if you want to burst into tears or kiss him on the mouth. And then he sees it, his eyes trailing down your body to see the familiar scratch of lines and ripped fabric on your calf. You'd hoped he hadn't noticed, but you can't help the twitch of your lips.

"Come to my office," Aizawa says shakily, voice intense and full of mirth.

You walk behind him to enter into his domain. Aizawa stares at you, breath labored as he swallows thickly. Neither of you are speaking, but it's clear how his presence dominates yours. It's effortless. It's easy for him.

"Put the paper on the table and your hands on either side."

Your hair sways as you put your hands on his grand office desk. The red marks stare back at you mockingly, your breath stuttering as you feel his presence behind you. He looms, and you can just barely feel how his hips align right behind yours. A deep, primal need wants to arch your back even more than it already is.

"Bend over more."

Was he serious? Your ass brushes against his crotch as you bend farther, with your pencil skirt rising higher. Your upper thigh is exposed to cool air, Aizawa's rough hands brushing against the soft skin. His thumb just barely brushes your panties, and you're biting back a whimper.

"Read it aloud."

Aizawa bites his lip as you do exactly what he says.

"Dear Mr. Toshinori," and you're cut off by a firm spank on your ass.

Your breath stops in your throat as you turn your head in disbelief. Aizawa says nothing, and does nothing, maintaining eye contact as he swats your plump butt again. It hurts and your eyes water. Something inside you tells you this is wrong, but it's overwhelmed by the wave of it feeling so right.

"Go on."

A sniffle escapes you, humiliation and pleasure mixing into a twisted thread of satisfaction, "the effort you've put into this case has been indelible–"

Another firm smack that leaves a gasping moan escaping you. You can hear his labored breaths mingle with your needy ones as he lays smack after smack against your aching bottom. Your whimpers come out more easily with each hit. Your eyes blur with tears that drip onto the crisp paper, blurring the letters you'd so carelessly put together. The red of Aizawa's pen seeps into the salty stain, and a cry escapes you.

"We don't want to be rash," another loud smack. "With all my love, Aizawa Shota…"

The two of you are panting, and Aizawa sighs as he presses the bulge in his slacks against the cleft of your sore bottom. He's so hard. You can't help how your hips grind against his, how the two of you play this forbidden song and dance of boundaries a second longer. He stills you with a fond voice.

"Very good," and you could cum with how he says your name. "I expect you to be better the next time around."

A strong hand smooths over the sore skin and fabric of your skirt. He takes care to readjust your clothes. His hands feel incredible with every soothing stroke. Your tears subside within no time, and you wish the moment would last forever.

He doesn't see how your eyes close in relief as a smile graces your lips, "I will, sir."

"Thank you."

You make no mistakes for the rest of the week. You might be the perfect secretary. Aizawa was beginning to reveal himself to you more and more; you were absolutely delighted. If he wanted to overwhelm you with himself, you weren't opposed to submitting to him entirely. You'd let him eat you if he wanted.

It's how your quaint, dull secretary job turns into a game of cat and mouse. Everything is predetermined by him. You crawl to his desk with the written communication tucked between your lips, sidling up next to him as he takes it with a "thank you."

Reveling in it is what keeps you going. It leaves you crawling, kneeling, and purring for "good girl," "thank you," "very nice," and "well done."

This time, you stand beside him like a shining knight while he reads over the newspaper. It's still early morning, only about an hour to your shift before he's straightening up and talking to you without looking at you.

"What do you eat for dinner, sweetheart?"

You can't help but smile every time you hear that tender nickname.

"U-Usually meat and potatoes and a vegetable."

"That's the daily menu?"

"Today I wanted to make mashed potatoes, peas, and meatloaf."

"Hmm," and then his steely eyes are turning and landing right on you.

It's as if a spotlight has shone down directly on you. You fidget on the spot immediately. Aizawa's lips quirked up as if he wanted to laugh, and you mirrored him back; you know he found your flightiness endearing. Cute, even. You'd heard him say so under his breath a few days back.

"I want you to have five peas. A scoop of mashed potatoes and no meatloaf."

You stay silent. He's not done. He smiles warmly, eyes scanning you appreciatively.

"And as much ice cream as you want."

"How did you know I like ice cream?"

He doesn't reply. He'd seen you out and about while he was waiting for his dry cleaning. You'd been happily chatting with friends, a giant cone of flavors on your right, while you gestured with the left. Aizawa hadn't wanted to interrupt you in your natural state. It was a shame, though, considering he couldn't shake your smile and your laugh from his head that entire day.

"I just know."

You make precisely five peas and a heaving bowl of mashed potatoes. The meal is done quickly, but you call him just before eating.

"A scoop of mash, five peas, and as much ice cream as I want."

Aizawa sits comfortably in his living room, wine glass in hand, "good girl."

It's a meal you savor. It's a wine he relishes. It's a simple delicacy, as if you share the meal together, knowing one is thinking about the other. Aizawa and you fall into this routine of codependency. You go where he goes. You eat from his hand and never bite. He offers you more and more. He lets you engorge yourself on him while he feasts himself upon you.

But, things grow different. He stops asking you to get on your knees, and you see him shutting the door behind you more and more. His face looked pained every time, as if he wasn't banishing you away to your secretarial desk. Why is he doing this? Why was he denying his sweetheart?

You listen to the audio of his lulling voice dictating you on what to type. You're not sure if you or the brat inside you insist on making typos, but you know it's the entirety of you that will be held responsible.

You smirked anyway as you delivered the paper to him with a flourish, "This one is finished."

He takes it silently and puts it in the envelope to be sent. You falter a bit and quizzically ask.

"Aren't you going to read it?"

"I'm really busy," he says your name so flatly you almost want to stomp your foot in protest.

Whatever. Quick feet turn, and you're heading off without a second thought. If he didn't want to read it, that was just fine! It wasn't as if you cared. You return to work, and your shift passes by slowly. Then, you hear the static and clearness of Aizawa's firm voice.

"Come to my office."

You're skipping with joy to the door, arms swinging at your sides before you compose yourself in front of the door. You open it, and he's immediately staring dead at you. His eyes are like a flame. Aizawa's voice shakes with restraint as he tells you to come close and bend over.

It's lewd how you drape yourself over his desk. Your hands are poised as you lay them flat against the desk, butt perked and wiggling ever so slightly. If you were a cat, your tail would swish, and maybe Aizawa would go easier on you.

But you're not a cat; Aizawa never goes easy on anyone. Not his clients, not the courtroom, and certainly not you. His rough nails scrape against the soft flesh of your bottom as he tugs your skirt up, and then your panties drop to the floor. You're bare and shaking in front of him, face dark and pressed into the wood you lay on. He gives no tells, your ears straining to hear something, anything.

Aizawa slowly unzips his slacks, and you're panting with neediness on your breath. You can feel how a strong hand easily shifts your hips to the side as if you weigh nothing; he's still silent as a hand grips the base of his cock, and he groans.

You wish so badly to turn and catch him in the act. He spits lewdly and tugs your skirt up higher till your ass is on full display. He grunts, and it's so slick listening to his palm hit his fat balls and work the tip over and over again. A whimper escapes you when he digs his palms into the fat of your ass and grips it for purchase. It feels so heady, and you're forced to listen as Aizawa fucks into his palm.

The wet noises echo, his hand speeding up as he groans your name. A confident thrum leaves you thrusting back, and the choked moan he lets out is downright delicious, "fuckk."

His breath becomes strangled as he works himself. Then, he's letting out a deep yelp, and you're coated in hot white strands of his cum. It soaks into your panties, and your hole clenches around nothing. He's still breathing shakily, his hand tracing the marks he left on you before pulling away entirely. You can smell his cologne when you turn knock-kneed before him.

"That'll be all," he mumbles with ragged pants.

You stare at yourself, awed, in the mirror. The streaks on your panties are visible as you slip a hand past your waistband and hold a hand to your mouth. You cum just like that, in Aizawa's company bathroom, with his cum on your ass.

He doesn't make an appearance for the rest of the shift. You want to knock and ask, "Are you okay?" But, you worry it'd just make things worse.

Meanwhile, Aizawa stares at his desk contemplatively. A letter sits mockingly as he stares at it. The white stain on his slacks mocks him. He keeps trying to rub it out, but it won't budge. This can't go on.

Dear Sweetheart,

This is disgusting. I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm like this.

He crumples it and tosses it off somewhere, sinking into his office chair with an arm draped over his eyes. This was pathetic. It was unseemly. He had to intervene before he got out of control. Aizawa tries to ignore the deep pain within his chest that winces at every thought of separating himself from you.

That was what he told you the next day, "we can't be doing this every day. It's… wrong."

"Why not?"

You're tearful and shaking. Aizawa's heart shatters so suddenly he has to look off to the side, eyes tracing the whistling trees outside the window.

"Why. Not?"

"Because we can't," he hisses in regret at even letting this conversation come to fruition regardless.

Your hands smack against your thighs as you stand and come closer. You never used to go into his bubble, and now you had no problem merging the two of you together, "I love you."

It was the genuine, honest truth. You loved how he told you how many peas to eat when he'd stroke your hair when he first called you sweetheart. You were sure you had started loving him then, some time or another, between the blending of professional boundaries.

"Don't be immature–"

"I'm not leaving.

He gets close, eyes narrowed as you stay rooted on his Persian rug.

"You're fired."

"No, I'm not," your tears spill over your cheeks in fat rivulets. "Don't do this."

Aizawa scoffs, grabbing his coat and huffing, "I'm going for a walk. Don't be here when I get back."

You stay rooted. You don't move an inch, only wiping your face and continuing to stare out his office window. This was the most heartbreak you'd ever felt. Aizawa was the first real man you had met, and he was tearing himself away from you. This job had never been dull from the second you saw him.

He's been gone for so long. Your legs ache, and you wonder if he went home, if he decided to leave you there through the night on trembling feet and shaky breaths. No. He wasn't like that. You'd wait.

The walk did nothing to soothe him. All he could feel was a pull towards you, like an anchor desperate to return home. Each step was heavy, and he turned around halfway to practically run back to the office. Were you still there?

You're still standing with your arms at your sides. You're not crying anymore, your face hard and focused. You're pretty upon his Persian rug, and Aizawa feels downright giddy. The giddy feeling is overshadowed by the thrum of darkness at the reality of the situation. He felt awful, wanting, and overwhelmed with emotions. He had so many emotions he almost couldn't stand it. Almost.

Aizawa sits outside the office door, head in hand. A thread born from sickness and loneliness was watered and tended by you, and he was so afraid.

The two of you stay rooted.

Only when the sun shines before noon the next day does Aizawa open the door. You're turning your head instantly with watery eyes and a grumbling stomach. You knew it, he hadn't left. He'd have never left you alone at this rate. You were his, and he was yours.

His footsteps are heavy as he draws closer until he's right before you. You look at him so softly. Your eyes are like dams threatening to give away if he didn't accept this watering, this tending. You'd worked so hard.

You collapse into his arms the minute he holds you, and he goes down with you, both of you sinking onto the floor in a loving heap. He doesn't even let your head touch the ground, only looking at you with fondness.

Aizawa kisses you, and it's like a cool drink of water. You're satiated yet hungry for more. Hungry for him.

"I'm going to take you home," he whispers tenderly, accompanied by a hand smoothing down the side of your waist before hooking under your knees.

He bridal carries you past the threshold of his office and building and towards his car. It's an intimate carry; you hold onto him with a soft smile.

His steps are measured as he takes you up the stairs of his home. Your eyes greedily latch onto every detail you pass by: the pictures daintily hung on the wall, the way a cat peeks in from the kitchen, the way the whole home is ornate and decorated. It's lived in, and you bring yourself closer to burying into Aizawa's neck.

The minute your back hits the bed, you're engaged in a passionate lip-lock that won't quit. It's not the rough dominance of Aizawa trying to eat you whole. It was the experience of two lovers finally able to blend as one.

He's gentle as he lays you back against plush silken sheets, immediately crawling and molding his body to yours with a hefty groan. His body weight is addicting. Your thumbs press against the divots in his back to try and bring him impossibly closer.

"Been wanting to kiss you since I saw you, pretty girl."

"Me too," your tongue laves over his bottom lip. "I only wanted you."

"I know. I see you."

He breathes into your neck before diving in to lick and suck at the supple skin. You can't help the squirming and the hot whimpers that escape you, the rough patches on your neck growing more abundant with every kiss of his lips and bite of his teeth.

"I want you," you confide, hands loosening his hair from the tight bun into loose strands that surround you. "I need you, Aizawa."

"Call me Shota." a burning hand trails down your hip to between your legs.

You're already mewling, trying to shut your legs despite Shota insisting with a "be good" to keep them open. His hand catches your thigh, and you shrink at his look that pins you to the covers.

"Be still," he says, and a finger drags up your puffy lips over your underwear.

The fabric catches on your clit, and you gasp; your hips tilting back and forth for moremoremore–

Shota tugs your panties to the side and spreads you open, his eyes greedy as they rake over every inch of your dripping cunny. You know you're making a mess all over his hand as you writhe and leak.

"Shota, ohfuckk. Don't stare," you barely manage to get out when his rough thumb circles your needy clit.

"I'll stare as much as I feel like, sweetheart. You're dripping for me, soaking my hand. 'S so cute."

You can't even find it in yourself to plead for him to stop. He sinks two fingers in you like it's nothing, an amused chuckle reverberating through his chest at the sight, "You play with your pussy a lot? She swallowed my fingers up like it was nothing. Is it gonna be the same when I stuff you full?"

"I'll take it, I-I can take your cock."

"Good girl. Saying exactly what I want to hear," and he's kissing you.

His hand leaves you, much to your chagrin, and you're left spread open wide in front of him as he rapidly undresses. His bulge is big, and you're almost a bit intimidated when his boxers reveal the shape of his thick cock leaking pre-cum. You wet your lips, and your knees go to touch before he pulls them open wider and settles on his haunches.

"Getting shy now?"

"No…"

"Then open your legs."

It's not a question but a command. You do as he says.

His underwear is pushed down to free his dick, the thick length bobbing and brushing against his happy trail. It's so lewd, and he looks so manly. His muscles are rippling, and he's so hard between your legs. Your hole clenches around nothing, and Shota runs the angry red tip through your folds.

"Ah! Don't tease me," you murmur, feet flexing with need.

His fat tip just barely presses against your hole, just barely pushing past your clenching pussy with a lazy grin, "I won't. Just lay back, honey."

Shota's voice is syrupy and smooth. His hands push your thighs farther than you thought they'd go as he sinks inch by inch into you.

"Oh, oh, Shota–you're so big."

"Poor pussy's squeezing me so tight," he grunts lowly. "You feel so good, sweetheart."

He plants a soft kiss against your ankle before shifting and bullying three inches of himself inside you. You cry out, eyes rolling back as he shallowly thrusts and works you open, breath heavy on his lips as he fucks his cock into you.

Your pussy's so sloppy, leaking and creaming around him before he's even balls deep inside you. Shota mounts you, and you're scrunched under him with a whimpering wail, "There we go. Nice and full, huh?"

"Y-Yeah! Ohgod, I-I can't–"

"Oh, fuuuuck."

He moves slowly and thrusts so deep you feel him in your stomach. It's sinful, the way his hips start to rock into yours, tip rubbing against your womb as you moan and moan.

"God, 'm so deep inside you. Fucking claiming this pussy, right? Just giving my girl what she needs, a nice, good pounding."

Shota's balls smack against your ass as he speeds up, sticky clit mashing against the coarse hair at his base as he rams himself into you again and again. You feel delirious as you get fucked further into the mattress. The two of you are one, creaming around his base as your nails scratch lines across his back.

"Rub your clit, baby. Make yourself feel good."

“‘M gonna cum, Shotaaa!”

"Hold it," he hisses, hips still pistoning in and out of you as he thrusts particularly hard. "Want you to rub yourself, sweetheart. You can do that for me, yeah?"

You're near tears as your hand shakily flits over your sore pussy, howling from pleasure as you circle it once, twice–" I-I can't, please, lemme cum!"

"Hmm," and you can feel how he throbs inside you.

Your walls suck him in impossibly deeper, and you can see the sweat dripping down his forehead as he heaves a breath. You squeeze again, and he glares at you darkly, eyes narrowed and stormy as he settles his hips on top of yours, heavy balls churning with the need to cum.

"Go ahead, since you wanna cum so bad."

"Sh-Shota!"

You're fucking squirting. Your juices make more of a mess, and it does it for him as he slams into you for a few more thrusts before hunkering down and sliding right against your womb. A few tears escape you as rope after rope of cum fills you to the brim, your eyes rolling back as he milks himself inside your sweet cunt.

"God, fuck," he shudders, hips twitching as he finishes breeding you.

Shota's eyes are closed as he holds you both in that position. If you weren't on birth control, you'd be in trouble as globs of cum spill out when he adjusts his grip on you. He pulls out slowly, watching the white fill and drip down your ass lewdly. He looks magical the way he bites his lip and spreads your open, hole clenching and letting out more of his release.

"You're so pretty."

Both of you are spent and exhausted. You can't find it in yourself to reply. Aizawa's muscles bulge when he pulls you closer into his body, a shiver coursing through you at a lazy finger trailing over your spine. Both of you are quiet for a while, the intense passion taking a load on you both.

You nearly fall asleep while he strokes you.

"Where are you originally from?"

It makes you pause before you answer your hometown, eyes pulling up to meet his soft ones.

"... Where did you go to school?"

"UA High School. Then, I went overseas for my law degree."

"Oh. I always wondered where you went."

"I always wondered where you were from," he whispers, noses your face, and plants a sweet kiss on your lips.

The two of you swap stories and questions just like that for hours. It means everything to you, and Shota wishes you could've done this sooner. Wishes he could've known this woman before.

"Do I still get to keep my job?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

-

You walk, arms spread out wide and attached to the spreader bar. You adorn yourself with a clean white blouse and a navy blue skirt—prim and proper. It's easy now, as you squat to grab a paper with your left hand and turn to your right to staple it.

It's easy, grabbing things with your teeth as you prance around, spread open as if on a cross for him. Your boss wanted you that way; he wanted you to be spread open and bare for him, fresh enough to eat.

You carry the tray with coffee in your right hand and the stack of papers in your left hand. As you approach the ajar office door, you can hear his voice, "Come in, and get on your knees."

The oak office door is kicked closed behind you without another word.

[postsify]

Navigating NJ's Legal Landscape with a Trusted Full service Law Firm

Establishing a business in New Jersey comes with a myriad of legal considerations. From incorporation to contracts, employment law, and even the protection of intellectual property, local entrepreneurs and small business owners face legal challenges that can significantly impact their operations and future success. In this blog post, we will explore how a trusted full service law firm NJ can serve as an invaluable partner, offering strategic legal counsel to guide businesses through the nuanced legal landscape of New Jersey.

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A3. The best preparation for potential litigation is to ensure that your business is in full compliance with all applicable laws and regulations. Additionally, maintaining accurate records of business transactions, communications, and policies can serve as invaluable evidence in the event of a dispute. Having a lawyer on retainer or as part of your advisory team can provide immediate support if litigation arises.

The Value of Establishing a Trusted Legal Partnership for Long-Term Business Success

In closing, the value of a trusted legal partnership cannot be emphasized enough for small businesses navigating the dynamic legal landscape of New Jersey. By establishing a relationship with a full service law firm like Spevack, entrepreneurs can confidently address their legal needs, secure their business interests, and focus on the growth and success of their ventures. Investing in legal services is not just a good practice; it is an imperative step towards sustainable business development.

For small business owners and entrepreneurs in New Jersey, understanding the legal implications of every decision and having a reliable team of legal advisors are key to prosperity. With Spevack Law Firm's specialized knowledge and commitment to client success, local businesses can rest assured that they are on solid legal ground as they pursue their goals. If you're a small business owner in New Jersey, take charge of your legal landscape—reach out to a trusted full service law firm today and pave the way for a secure and prosperous future.

[petalruesimblr]

Hello and welcome back to my blog! I planned to post this about two weeks ago, but I got so busy with booking flights and reservations for my trip that I decided to wait until I returned from my vacation.

This project has been my plan for my next #FollowersGift and I’m happy that it's finally complete. It's not much, to be honest; this was just an idea I had for a career and I was unsure if I should create a part-time job again or pursue a full-time career, so I decided to do both!

The SimGuard Security Services is a full-time career based on a security company/firm while SimGuard Security is also part of that but is assigned to different lots. This took a while because aside from creating five part-time careers, I also created a full-time career that includes branches, opportunities and books, which will be fully discussed in this post. A second post will follow for the part-time careers so this one won't get too long.

Thank you to all my followers for the likes, reblogs, downloads of my content and all your kind comments! I truly appreciate each and every one of them.💜

If you are interested, click on ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the SimGuard Security Services Career.

SimGuard Security Services

Bulk Download: Sim File Share (Full Time and Part-Times) | For individual files, refer to this post here.

As a Security Guard, you’ll be the vigilant eyes and ears protecting everything from top-secret parties to the occasional rogue lawn gnome. Duties include patrolling, deterring mischief and ensuring our clients’ properties stay as they should—intact. If you’re prepared for an exciting mix of vigilance and adventure, apply now and become part of our SimGuard Security Services!

Career Type: Full Time Available for: Young Adults and Adults Available Languages: English Levels: 10 Rabbit Hole: Business And Journalism Does it have Carpool? Yes Does it have Uniforms? Yes File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3 📣All descriptions for the levels, tones and metrics as well as skills required, salary, uniforms and other details are provided on the pictures above. Right-click on a picture and select ’Open image in new tab’ for a clearer view.

NRAAS Careers Mod

Branches and wages: This career has two branches that branch out after level 5: the Management branch, which focuses on handling internal agency operations as you progress to higher ranks and the Field Operations branch, which allows for expertise in specific security fields. All the levels represent realistic roles based on the research I did for this career. If you prefer the managerial role, expect to read more reports and increase your logic skills. However, if you prefer roles like a bodyguard or security escort, expect to develop both athletic and logic skills as you take on different roles in the field. Levels 1-5 offer realistic hourly wages based on research. To compensate for the increased days off and decreased work hours as the level increases, I had to raise the hourly wages beyond the normal salary ranges for Levels 6-10 for both branches. Metrics and Books: I made a few changes to this career, specifically regarding the metrics. I originally planned to include "Reports" as part of the required tasks but I realized this was unrealistic since it was based on the Law Enforcement career, where individuals interview people, search through their trash and create reports based on those findings—tasks not typical for a security guard. Instead, I made it a custom tone and changed the "Reports" metric to "Research," which is based on the Medical career, where professionals read reports from their subordinates instead of medical journals. Opportunities: As this is my first time creating opportunities, I focused on developing just two for now, with only one of them being repeatable. This is because security guards need to complete a minimum number of hours of continued firearm training per year. I initially planned to include Martial Arts as part of the metrics but decided to make this base game compatible for now. I might release a different version for World Adventures but to be honest, I don’t have the time at the moment. You are always free to add it on your own for personal use (check my terms of use). Be sure to check out MissyHissy's tutorial under Credits for a step-by-step guide on how to do it. As stated above, you will need NRAAS Careers Mod for these careers to show up in the game and as long as you have the latest version of it, it should work for higher patches. You can also read my #psa regarding these careers, click here. I’m not fluent in any other languages to translate so if anyone is interested in translating this career, please don’t hesitate to send me a message here, comment on this post or let me know in my Ask/Contact form (if you don’t have a Tumblr account) and will let you know the details. I have tested this career in my game, so far it is working and all scripts are showing up. All feedback is very welcome to help me learn and improve my skills so please let me know if you experience any problems on your end and I’ll do my best to sort it as soon as possible.

MissyHissy step-by-step tutorial Twallan for the Career Mod S3pe

[aaravr902]

Trilegal: Your Capital Markets Corporate Legal Experts

Trilegal capital markets corporate lawyers offer a comprehensive range of services, advising on equity and debt capital market transactions. From initial public offerings to overseas listings, we assist companies in issuing equity and equity-linked instruments, including preferential issues and private placements. With extensive experience in business trust and REIT transactions in India and Singapore, our team ensures expert guidance and seamless execution for your capital market endeavors.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Light the Way - Part One

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Angst, date rape/roofies, slight BDSM Word count: ~4k

Chapter summary: Starting a new job is never easy, it's even worse when your boss is an arsehole. When he unexpectedly comes to the rescue though, the relationship dynamic changes drastically.

She graduated from university a year ago with a Bachelor’s degree in PR and Marketing, and still has no idea what she wants from life, although the last twelve months of working as a barista have proven to her that a career in hospitality and customer service is definitely not it. Having happened across an online advertisement of a vacancy for the position of a personal assistant at a private law firm, she applied on a whim, never expecting to hear back. It’s not like she was qualified anyway, so she had nothing to lose

Yet, here she is, almost four weeks later, standing in the foyer of Red Keep Legal, preparing to begin her first day. The office building is sleek and modern, minimalist in decor, yet the polish of everything suggests it is incomprehensibly expensive. A handsome, bearded, older man, dressed in a sharp suit collects her from reception. She learns his name is Otto Hightower and he is a partner at the firm. They are high end solicitors and only take on the most exclusive of clients. She turns his business card over in her hands, the thickness of the smooth, matte black cardstock is high quality, with ornate golden lettering and a blood red logo of a three headed dragon. She knows she has seen that logo before, but can’t place where exactly.

“You’ll be a personal assistant to my grandson, Aemond.” Otto tells her. “He’s working on a particularly tricky case at the moment, so you’ll be responsible for ensuring he has everything he needs. I imagine he won’t ask you to do much more than get him coffee.” 

So there it was, the reason she’d gotten the job. She was hoping her coffee making days were behind her, but no such luck. She sighs inwardly, the bitter irony is almost comical.

“Anyway, if you have no further questions, I shall introduce you to Aemond.” Otto concludes.

She smiles and nods politely as he turns on his heel and leads her towards the elevator, stopping on the second to last floor. She follows him along a marble floored corridor, before he gently raps his knuckles against the rich mahogany of an office door. After a few moments the door swings open to reveal the most ethereal being she’d ever laid eyes upon. He is impossibly tall without being gangly or awkward; his long, lithe limbs flow like water as he props himself against the doorframe. His silky, silver locks are perfectly coiffed and she feels self conscious as the bright blue of his right eye scans all the way from her feet to the top of her head, analysing every inch. She notices the skin around his left eye is lightly scarred - the only indication that the realistic prosthetic that sits within the socket isn’t something he can actually see out of. The simple long sleeved top and black trousers she’s wearing suddenly feel drab in comparison to the well tailored navy blue suit he wears, and she fights the urge to hide herself. 

“Aemond, this is your new personal assistant.” Otto informs him, gesturing towards her. “Your mother and I worked hard to find this one, so perhaps you could try being a little more cordial than last time.”

She doesn’t stop to think about what that could possibly mean, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding in and rushing forward, smiling wide and extending a hand. 

“Hi Aemond! It’s wonderful to meet you!” 

His plush, full lips remain unmoving, as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, not returning the gesture and continuing to study her. 

She drops her hand, feeling deflated and laughs nervously.

Clearly not picking up on the awkwardness, or simply not caring, Otto glances between the two of them, before giving a curt nod and striding back towards the elevator.

Aemond watches him go before returning his attention back to her. 

“Wonderful to meet me, hm?” he finally says, quirking an eyebrow. 

Before she can respond, he continues, “Look, I’ve told my grandfather I don’t need an assistant and I like my own space. I’m looking over some contracts at the moment, so I would prefer it if you could make yourself scarce.” He disappears from view, allowing his office door to close behind him.

She immediately feels miserable. Her shoulders slump as she stands in front of the closed door. The first day of a new job should feel exciting, especially when your boss is so breathtakingly handsome, but this guy is rude and has declared her useless within minutes of meeting her. For a moment she considers just walking out and not returning.

She spends the remainder of the day sitting at her desk that’s positioned to the outer left of Aemond’s door. No one goes in or out, and not once does she catch sight of him. As far as first days go this is undoubtedly the worst she has ever experienced. As tempting as it is to just bail and head home, she desperately needs the cash, so she watches the hours slowly tick by on the off chance her stand-offish boss may suddenly decide he needs something. By the time 6pm rolls around, and she stands to gather her things, her legs have cramped from sitting for so long and she curses herself for only stretching her legs on the few occasions she went to the bathroom.

Arriving home, she finds her flatmate isn’t back yet and breathes a sigh of relief, knowing she’d be bombarded with questions about her first day and not have a positive answer for any of them. She uses the opportunity to pace the flat, rifling through the contact sheet and paperwork she has been given. She sighs when she happens upon the number listed for Aemond - what was the point of having the number of someone who seemingly wanted nothing to do with her? She saves it to her phone anyway, tomorrow was a new day after all. Perhaps she’ll score a few brownie points if she texts and offers to grab him coffee on her way to the office. She still can’t figure out why he’d been so cold towards her. Flopping down on the couch with a glass of wine, she boots up her laptop, deciding to do some research on Aemond Targaryen, as she realises that beyond meeting him today and knowing he works for one of the most prestigious law firms in all of Westeros, she really knows nothing about the man she is supposed to be working for.

She wakes up early the next morning, armed with a plan. Her evening of wine-fuelled research had been fruitful. She’d discovered that Aemond was from a family of famous Valyrian legal, political and business figures. Her recognition of the logo on Otto’s card was because it was regularly splashed across all of the major tabloid and broadsheet newspapers. She’d read through a few old articles regarding family drama, disputes over assets, and the death of his father to get an idea of who he was, before deciding his cold demeanour is likely attributed to the combined stress of his job and seemingly endless rifts between his mother and half-sister. She decides that if she is to break down his walls then she will do so with kindness, but she also wants to look the part - if she is to fit in with such sophisticated people then she needs to start dressing like one. She slips into a pencil skirt so fitted it looks like it has been painted on, alongside a sheer white blouse and a killer pair of black stilettos. She completes the look with perfectly styled hair and a thick coat of blood red lipstick. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t vying for more than Aemond’s professional attention, but she’d try anything at this point just to get him to acknowledge her presence. Giving herself a last once over look in the mirror, she fires off what she considers to be a breezy good morning text to Aemond, before heading to the coffee shop she used to work at. “Good morning Mr. Targaryen! Hope you’re well today. I’ll grab you a coffee on my way to the office. See you soon!”

Arriving exactly thirty minutes later, coffees in hand, she is disappointed to see that she’s been left on read. Nevermind. She has gone all out with the coffee order, asking for the special roast of beans with an extra shot and foamed milk. This was sure to win him over. She knocks timidly at his office door and after a long moment is about to knock again when it swings slowly open with a perfectly poised Aemond on the other side. God, he was breathtaking.

She realises she has gone too long without saying anything when he snaps out an impatient “Yes?” She jumps slightly, stepping forward into his office without an invitation. Aemond cautiously backs away, his brow furrowing with suspicion and confusion.

She thrusts one of the cups towards him, “Umm…I text you. Did you - uh - coffee?” Great, now I’ve lost the fucking power of speech.

Aemond gingerly accepts the cup from her, without saying thank you. “Are you always this articulate?” He says flatly, before taking a sip. His nose instantly wrinkles, “Ugh, does this have milk in it? I’m allergic to dairy."

Her eyes widen in horror, "Oh gods,, I’m so sorry! I should have thought to ask, I can always get you-"

"Forget it.” He cuts her off, “That will be all for the day, before you try to poison me any further. Close the door on your way out.”

Fantastic, another day sat at my desk, except this time I’m dressed like a cheap escort. 

The confidence she’d felt when she stepped out of the door this morning had been crushed flat by Aemond in a matter of seconds. She sits with her hands clasped tightly in front of her on the desk, willing her unshed tears away. Did he want her to quit? She’d placed everything on this job and she didn’t want to give it up without a fight. Sje simply couldn’t understand why Aemond seemed to hate her so much.

After a few hours pass by, she notices it is lunch time - he has to take a break some time. She decides that now is when she’ll make her move. Standing purposefully, she sniffs back her tears and checks her make-up in her compact mirror, before strutting back towards Aemond’s door. She’ll give that arsehole a piece of her mind. It was about time he learned to respect her.

She bursts into Aemond’s office without knocking. “Just who in the hell do you think you are?!” she rants, not waiting for his reaction to her sudden intrusion.

He looks up from the documents he has been reading and stares at her, but his expression is unreadable.

He stays silent, so she continues her tirade. “I didn’t have a fucking clue who you were when I accepted this job, despite that I’ve treated you with nothing but respect and you can’t even extend me the same courtesy!” She paces as she yells at him, gesticulating wildly. There’s a part of her telling her to stop, that this behaviour will likely get her fired, but at this point it would have been like attempting to put toothpaste back in the tube. “I know you think you’re hot shit, but that doesn’t exempt you from behaving like a decent human being.” She stops and looks at him then, his face still a mask of neutrality as he gazes up at her from his seat at the desk. “Why aren’t you saying anything?!” She demands.

“Oh, are you done?” He replies sarcastically.

She throws her hands up in exasperation, eliciting a huge sigh at his complete lack of emotion. 

Accepting her reaction as affirmation, he diverts his attention back to his paperwork and mutters “Well, if that’s all, you know where the door is.”

It takes all of her willpower not to grab the nearest object and launch it towards his head. She storms outside, slamming the door as she goes. Fuck this. Walking purposefully straight to the elevator, she lets it take her to the ground floor before hastily exiting the office building. There was absolutely no way she was spending another second in this godforsaken building.

Arriving home she throws her keys a little too aggressively onto the kitchen counter and heads straight towards the fridge, grabbing for the can of whipped cream. As she loudly squirts an unhealthy sized swirl of it into her mouth, her flatmate, Rhea, looks up from her laptop with an amused smile and asks “Rough morning?”

She hadn’t noticed her sitting at the dining table, too engrossed in her own foul mood to have any awareness of her surroundings. “Think I lost my job.” She slurs without bothering to swallow.

Rhea closes the lid of her laptop and rushes to pull her into a bear hug. Finally releasing her, she smiles kindly and wipes cream from her chin, before saying “First of all, you’re gross, and second, how has that happened? You’ve been there less than 48 hours!”

“It’s a long story.” She sighs, “The short version is that my boss is an arsehole, so I yelled at him and then left the office.”

“Oh.” Rhea winces, “That’s bad.”

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” She whines, rubbing her temples.

“Well, it might not solve your impending unemployment, but we could go out tonight?”

“Are you high right now, Rhea?! The only thing I’ll be doing tonight is looking at the classifieds!”

“Come on, you were miserable for so long in your last job and don’t seem to be faring much better in this one. You deserve a little fun!”

“I dunno…”

“I’m not taking no for an answer! I’m working from home today, so having a reason to leave the flat later will keep me sane. Plus you don’t even need to get changed - you are wearing that outfit!”

“Fine. I guess one drink couldn’t hurt.”

Rhea squeals with excitement, clapping her hands. “Amazing! Now be a doll and fuck off until 7pm, I have to concentrate.”

Rhea returns to her laptop while she retreats to her room, wondering if there will ever be a point this week where she isn’t being told to go away by someone.

The bar they end up at later that evening is loud and overcrowded. Despite that, she can feel herself relaxing. Perhaps it was the second white wine she was sipping or the steady beat of the music causing her to sway your hips involuntarily, but for the first time in two days she wasn't thinking about Aemond. She sighs contentedly, draining her glass and flashing Rhea a toothy grin as she pushes through the crowd with their next round of drinks. 

“Having fun?” Rhea half shouts over the cacophony of noise. 

Nodding, she grabs her hand, dragging her towards the dance floor. She chugs her drink as they both move to the rhythm of the song playing. She feels woozy and attributes it to drinking too much wine too fast.

“You want water?” She shouts to Rhea, making a drinking motion with her hand. Rhea nods gratefully and she staggers her way to the bar. She can feel her vision shifting in and out of focus and getting her legs to work the way she wants them to is proving difficult. Changing course, she heads outside, deciding a few lungfuls of fresh air will help set her straight.

As she slides down the brick exterior of the building she barely notices the dark figure that has followed her outside. “Easy.” A gruff male voice says, though in her mind it sounds far away, “Just relax.” Rough hands paw at her as her head flops around on a neck that feels boneless.

“Get the fuck off her.” She hears a familiar voice snarl demandingly. The man is gone in a flash and replaced instead by someone crouching in front of her, cupping her cheeks and coaxing her to look up into a concerned blue eye.

“Aemond?” She slurs.

“Keep looking at me.” Aemond says, cradling her head, “I’m fairly certain that that prick spiked your drink. I’m going to make sure you get home safely, but you need to stay awake, okay?”

Her eyes are glassy and Aemond blurs and duplicates in her vision as he keeps her face tilted up towards him. “Rhea.” She mumbles groggily.

As if summoned by the utterance of her name, her room mate pushes her way out of the bar, phone in hand, looking left and right. When she finally catches sight of her slumped on the ground with a man crouching over her, she shrieks and runs towards her. “What are you doing to her?!”

“Helping her.” Aemond replies flatly, without looking away from her. “Pretty sure she’s been spiked.”

“Jesus!” Rhea squeals, kneeling at her side, before finally looking over at Aemond. “Holy shit! You’re Aemond Targaryen! Your uncle is so hot!”

Aemond rolls his eye, hooking his arms around the body of the semi-conscious woman in front of him and slowly lifting her to her feet.

“Should we call the police?” Rhea asks, slowly realising the gravity of the situation.

Aemond turns to stare at her. “It will take an hour for them to get here.” He explains. “And when they do they’ll just file a report which they’ll never follow up on. Our time is better spent getting her home, so she’s at least safe. I’m assuming you know where she lives?”

Rhea nods. “We’re flatmates.”

Aemond momentarily supports her weight with a single arm as he fishes his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it and passes it to Rhea. “Order an Uber”.

“Thanks for helping her.” Rhea says, as the Uber finally pulls up to the curb. They waited in total silence and any excitement Rhea had felt at having met Aemond was rapidly dissipating into awkward discomfort. “I can look after her from here.” She moves to take her from the supporting hold he has on her.

“Because you’ve done such an incredible job of that so far.” He retorts icily. “I’m coming with you.”

He maneuveres her limp form into the back of the car as Rhea makes her way around to the other side to sit next to her. She is surprised to see Aemond fold his tall frame into the backseat beside her, fully expecting him to ride shotgun. The drive back is tense and uncomfortable. She sits unconscious, sandwiched between the two of them, her heading lolling against Aemond’s shoulder.

“So…” Rhea begins, attempting to break the silence, “You’re the arsehole boss then?”

It was intended as a joke, but Aemond’s humourless chuckle instantly makes her cheeks burn at having said something so rude. “Is it true you’re going to fire her?”

Aemond seems surprised at that. “No,” He says simply. “I won’t expect to see her in the office tomorrow, she’ll need a day to recover, but tell her to be there at 9am sharp on Thursday. And I take my coffee black.”

“Sure.” Rhea smiles meekly. By this point, the Uber has pulled up to its destination. “Would you like to uh…?” She asks, gesturing towards the block of flats.

“No, I think you’ll be fine from here.” He responds, “Goodnight.”

With that, Rhea is left to help her out of the car, which pulls away as soon as she's closed the door.

The next day she awakens with no memory of the evening before, feeling like she has the mother of all hangovers. She swears loudly as she looks at the time and realises it’s almost midday. If she wasn’t fired before, she certainly was now.

Hearing she is awake, Rhea sweeps into the room with a tall glass of water for her. She fills her in on the details of the previous evening and she listens in stunned silence. She spends the rest of the day in bed, struggling to process what has happened to her and the fact that a man she’d assumed hated her had come so valiantly to her rescue.

Thursday morning rolls around quickly and she dresses simply in black trousers and a sensible cardigan. She heads to grab Aemond his morning coffee; black coffee. No sooner had she deposited the cup into his hand had apologies begun tumbling from her lips, saying sorry for how she’d spoken to him, sorry for storming off, sorry for him having to look after her. He cuts her off, sliding a sheet of paper towards her.

“This,” He begins, “Is a list of things I need you to do for me today. Think you can handle it?”

She nods, stunned at finally being asked to help him out.

“Perfect. See you later.”

The day passes in a blur and she struggles. This is the first day she’s actually performing the job she has been hired to do and the busy, demanding nature of a prestigious law firm was worlds apart from the past two days of sitting at her desk and sulking. She gets lost trying to deliver documents to various people’s offices, forgets to seal contracts in confidential envelopes and accidentally hangs up on no less than five clients while trying to transfer their calls. It is a complete disaster.

She sits, highlighting every instance of the word “Harrenhal” in a document, feeling totally overwhelmed. How could anyone manage to be so bad at a relatively simple job?! The truth was, she kept finding herself distracted, thinking about what had happened to her two nights ago. What would have happened if Aemond hadn’t shown up? She caps the highlighter pen, resting her head in her hands and fails to suppress a sob.

Hearing his office door open, she turns to face Aemond as he exits, attempting to compose herself, but knows he has likely already seen her crying. “Sorry.” She whispers. “I’m just having a bad day. Ignore me.” She sniffles and wipes her eyes.

Silently Aemond beckons her into his office, maintaining eye contact as he does so.

She follows obediently, dread gnawing at her insides, certain he’s going to fire her.

 “Kneel.” He quietly commands, once the door is closed behind them.

“What?!” Her eyes widen in shock.

“Trust me, you need this. Kneel.” He insists.

She does as she is told, kneeling before him, gazing up at his impossibly tall frame with curiosity.

He slowly reaches out a hand, fingers gently grazing her jawline, before running a thumb over her lips. He pushes gently, parting them and meeting the resistance of her teeth. “Open”.

This time she doesn’t question his request, silently accepting the alien intrusion of Aemond’s thumb into her mouth. Instinctively she feels herself sucking on the digit and gradually relaxes. The sensation sends a throb of arousal straight to her core. She’d never experienced anything like this before, but seeing him tower over her, offering his thumb for her to suck was strangely erotic.

“Better?” He asks.

She simply nods, doe-eyed and staring at him in awe.

“Good.” He smiles slightly, stooping down until his lips are ghosting the shell of her ear. It makes her shiver. “I much preferred Tuesday’s outfit, by the way. Maybe that can make a reappearance tomorrow?”

Part two || Series masterlist

[newsfromstolenland]

"Canadian shoppers may be more willing to admit that they've stolen from grocery stores lately, whether in defiance of corporate greedflation or out of sheer necessity amid an only partially-explicable spike in food prices, but the fact remains that shoplifting is illegal — and landing a charge could spell big, big trouble.

But it doesn't necessarily have to ruin your life, according to one local legal professional who will defend anyone arrested for stealing food from grocery stores pro bono (as in for free) right now.

Licenced paralegal Frank Alfano, whose firm represents people all over the Greater Toronto Area, published an Instagram post earlier this week that is as much of a public service announcement as it is an advertisement for people seeking legal help.

"Criminal convictions have many serious consequences such as jail time, a criminal record, not being able to travel to America, not being able to get some jobs and more," reads the caption of that post.

"We understand that it is difficult to deal with criminal charges by yourself... We offer legal services for criminal offence summary convictions as regulated by law society of Ontario. To qualify for free representation this must be your first offence, the value of the goods must be less than $5,000, and it should be in the GTA area."

The post displays an image of someone stealing food with the text: "You do not deserve a criminal record because you wanted to feed yourself or your family!" — a sentiment Alfano believes in strongly."

Full article

Tagging: @allthecanadianpolitics

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Big Train managers earn bonuses for greenlighting unsafe cars

Tomorrow (November 16) I'll be in Stratford, Ontario, appearing onstage with Vass Bednar as part of the CBC IDEAS Festival. I'm also doing an afternoon session for middle-schoolers at the Stratford Public Library.

Almost no one knows this, but last June, a 90-car train got away from its crew in Hernando, MS, rolling three miles through two public crossings, a ghost train that included 47 potentially explosive propane cars. The "bomb train" neither crashed nor derailed, which meant that Grenada Railroad/Gulf & Atantic didn't have to report it.

This is just one of many terrifying near-misses that are increasingly common in America's hyper-concentrated, private equity-dominated rail sector, where unsafe practices dominate and whistleblowers face brutal retaliation for coming forward to regulators.

These unsafe practices – and the corporate policies that deliberately gave rise to them – are documented in terrifying, eye-watering detail in a deeply reported Propublica story by Topher Sanders, Jessica Lussenhop,Dan Schwartz, Danelle Morton and Gabriel L Sandoval:

https://www.propublica.org/article/railroad-safety-union-pacific-csx-bnsf-trains-freight

It's a tale of depraved indifference to public safety, backstopped by worker intimidation. The reporting is centered on railyard maintenance inspectors, who are charged with writing up "bad orders" to prevent unsafe railcars from shipping out. As private equity firms consolidated rail into an ever-dwindling number of companies, these workers face supervisors who are increasingly hostile to these bad orders.

It got so alarming that some staffers started carrying hidden digital recorders, so they could capture audio of their bosses illegally ordering them to greenlight railcars that were too unsafe for use. The article features direct – and alarming – quotes, like supervisor Andrew Letcher, boss of the maintenance crews at Union Pacific's Kansas City yard saying, "If I was an inspector on a train I would probably let some of that nitpicky shit go."

Letcher – and fellow managers for other Tier 1 railroads quoted in the piece – aren't innately hostile to public safety. They are quite frank about why they want inspectors to "let that nitpicky shit go." As Letcher explains, "The first thing that I’m getting questioned about right now, every day, is why we’re over 200 bad orders and what we’re doing to get them down."

In other words, corporate rail owners have ordered their supervisors to reduce the amount of maintenance outages on the rail lines, but have not given them additional preventative maintenance budgets or crew. These supervisors warn their employees that high numbers of bad orders could cost them their jobs, even lead to the shutdown of the car shops where inspectors are prone to pulling dangerous cars out of service.

It's a ruthless form of winnowing. Gresham's Law holds that "bad money drives out good" – in an economy where counterfeit money circulates, people preferentially spend their fake money to get it out of their hands, until all the money in circulation is funny money. This is the rail safety equivalent: simply fire everyone who reports unsafe conditions and all your railcars will be deemed safe, with the worst railcars shipped out first. A market for lemons – except these aren't balky used sedans, they're unsafe railcars full of toxic chemicals or explosive propane.

When cataclysmic rail disasters occur – like this year's East Palestine derailment – the rail industry reassures us that this is an isolated incident, pointing to the system's excellent overall safety record. But that record is a mirage, because the near-misses don't have to be reported. Those near-misses are coming more frequently, as the culture of profit over safety incurs a mounting maintenance debt, filling America's rails with potential "bomb cars."

Rail mergers and other forms of deregulated, anything-goes capitalism are justified by conservative economists who insist that "incentives matter," and that the profit motive provides the incentive to improve efficiency, leading to lower costs and better service. But the incentive to externalize risk, kick the can down the road, and capture regulators rarely concerns the "incentives matter" crowd.

Here's an incentive that matters. Rail managers' bonuses – as much as a fifth of their take home pay – are only paid if the trains they oversee run on time. Inspectors have recorded their managers admitting that they have quotas – a maximum number of bad orders their facility may produce, irrespective of how much unsafe rolling stock passes through the facility.

Inspectors have caught their managers removing repair order tags from cars they've flagged as unsafe. Inspectors will log orders in a database, only to have the record mysteriously deleted, or marked as serviced when no service has occurred. Some inspectors have seen the same cars in their yard with the same problems, and repeatedly flagged them without any maintenance being performed before they're shipped out again.

Former managers from Union Pacific, CSX and Norfolk Southern told Propublica that they operated in an environment where safety reports were discouraged, and that workers who filed these reports were viewed as "complainers." Workers furnished Propublica with recordings of rail managers berating them for reporting persistent unsafe conditions the Federal Railroad Administration. Other workers from BNSF said that they believed that their bosses were told when they called the company's "confidential" work-safety tipline, setting them up for retaliation by bosses who'd falsified safety reports.

Whistleblowers who seek justice at OSHA are stymied by long delays, and while switching their cases to court can win them cash settlements, these do not get recorded on the company's safety record, which allows the company to go on claiming to be a paragon of safety and prudence.

The culture of retaliation is pervasive, which explains how the 47-cars worth of propane on the "bomb train" that rolled unattended over three miles of track never made the news. There is a voluntary Close Call Reporting System (operated by NASA!) where rail companies can report these disasters. Not one of America's Class 1 rail companies participate in it.

After the East Palestine disaster, Transport Secretary Pete Buttigieg pushed the rail companies to join, but a year later, none have. It's part of an overall pattern with Secretary Buttigieg, who has prodigious, far-reaching powers under USC40 Section 41712(a), which allow him to punish companies for "unfair and deceptive" practices or "unfair methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

Buttigieg can't simply hand down orders under 41712(a) – to wield this power, he must follow administrative procedures, conducting market studies, seeking comment, and proposing a rule. Other members of the Biden administration with similar powers, like FTC chair Lina Khan, arrived in office with a ranked-priority list of bad corporate conduct and immediately set about teeing up rules to give relief to the American public.

By contrast, Buttigieg's agency has done precious little to establish the evidentiary record to punish the worst American companies under its remit. His most-touted achievement was to fine five airlines for saving money by cancelling their flights and stranding their passengers. But of the five airlines affected by Buttigieg's order, four were not US companies. The sole affected US carrier was Spirit airlines, with 2% of the market. The Big Four US airlines – who have a much worse record than the ones that were fined – were not affected at all:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/ftc-noncompete-airline-flight-cancellation-buttigieg/

Rather than directly regulating the US transportation sector, Buttigieg prefers exacting nonbinding promises from them (like the Tier 1 rail companies' broken promise to sign up to the Close Call Reporting System). Under his leadership, the Federal Railroad Agency has proposed weakening rail safety standards, rescinding an order to improve the braking systems on undermaintained, mile-long trains carrying potentially deadly freight:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/11/dinah-wont-you-blow/#ecp

The US transportation system is accumulating a terrifying safety debt, behind a veil of corporate secrecy. It badly demands direct regulation and close oversight.

If you are interested in rail safety, I strongly recommend this episode of Well There's Your Problem, "a podcast about engineering disasters, with slides" – you will laugh your head off and then never sleep again:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BMQTdYXaH8

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/15/safety-third/#all-the-livelong-day

[tiny-librarian]

In the early morning hours of October 16th, having been condemned to death by guillotine, Marie Antoinette was led back to her cell in the Conciergerie. She wrote the following letter to her sister in law, Madame Elisabeth, but it would never reach her.

Here is a translation of the letter, images of the original are above.

16th October, 4.30 A.M. It is to you, my sister, that I write for the last time. I have just been condemned, not to a shameful death, for such is only for criminals, but to go and rejoin your brother. Innocent like him, I hope to show the same firmness in my last moments.

I am calm, as one is when one’s conscience reproaches one with nothing. I feel profound sorrow in leaving my poor children: you know that I only lived for them and for you, my good and tender sister. You who out of love have sacrificed everything to be with us, in what a position do I leave you! I have learned from the proceedings at my trial that my daughter was separated from you. Alas! poor child; I do not venture to write to her; she would not receive my letter. I do not even know whether this will reach you. Do you receive my blessing for both of them. I hope that one day when they are older they may be able to rejoin you, and to enjoy to the full your tender care. Let them both think of the lesson which I have never ceased to impress upon them, that the principles and the exact performance of their duties are the chief foundation of life; and then mutual affection and confidence in one another will constitute its happiness. Let my daughter feel that at her age she ought always to aid her brother by the advice which her greater experience and her affection may inspire her to give him. And let my son in his turn render to his sister all the care and all the services which affection can inspire. Let them, in short, both feel that, in whatever positions they may be placed, they will never be truly happy but through their union. Let them follow our example. In our own misfortunes how much comfort has our affection for one another afforded us! And, in times of happiness, we have enjoyed that doubly from being able to share it with a friend; and where can one find friends more tender and more united than in one’s own family? Let my son never forget the last words of his father, which I repeat emphatically; let him never seek to avenge our deaths. I have to speak to you of one thing which is very painful to my heart, I know how much pain the child must have caused you. Forgive him, my dear sister; think of his age, and how easy it is to make a child say whatever one wishes, especially when he does not understand it. It will come to pass one day, I hope, that he will better feel the value of your kindness and of your tender affection for both of them. It remains to confide to you my last thoughts. I should have wished to write them at the beginning of my trial; but, besides that they did not leave me any means of writing, events have passed so rapidly that I really have not had time. I die in the Catholic Apostolic and Roman religion, that of my fathers, that in which I was brought up, and which I have always professed. Having no spiritual consolation to look for, not even knowing whether there are still in this place any priests of that religion (and indeed the place where I am would expose them to too much danger if they were to enter it but once), I sincerely implore pardon of God for all the faults which I may have committed during my life. I trust that, in His goodness, He will mercifully accept my last prayers, as well as those which I have for a long time addressed to Him, to receive my soul into His mercy. I beg pardon of all whom I know, and especially of you, my sister, for all the vexations which, without intending it, I may have caused you. I pardon all my enemies the evils that they have done me. I bid farewell to my aunts and to all my brothers and sisters. I had friends. The idea of being forever separated from them and from all their troubles is one of the greatest sorrows that I suffer in dying. Let them at least know that to my latest moment I thought of them. Farewell, my good and tender sister. May this letter reach you. Think always of me; I embrace you with all my heart, as I do my poor dear children. My God, how heart-rending it is to leave them forever! Farewell! farewell! I must now occupy myself with my spiritual duties, as I am not free in my actions. Perhaps they will bring me a priest; but I here protest that I will not say a word to him, but that I will treat him as a total stranger.