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#New Jersey Family Attorney
top10divorcelawyers · 1 month
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How to Choose the Best Divorce Lawyer in New Jersey and California
Going through a divorce is one of the most challenging experiences in life, and having the right legal representation is essential. Whether you are in New Jersey or California, finding a skilled attorney who understands the complexities of family law can make a significant difference in the outcome of your case. Knowing how to identify the Top 10 Divorce Lawyers and why it’s crucial to choose someone with local expertise will help you navigate this difficult process.
In New Jersey, divorce laws are detailed and often require an attorney with specific experience in the state’s legal system. Divorce lawyers in New Jersey are familiar with local laws, including those related to property division, alimony, and child custody. Choosing a lawyer who is deeply knowledgeable about New Jersey’s legal procedures ensures that your rights are fully protected throughout the divorce process. The right lawyer will provide you with tailored advice, guiding you through every step and working towards an outcome that meets your needs.
California, with its own set of family law challenges, also requires attorneys who are well-versed in the state’s regulations. California Family Law Attorneys must navigate the state’s unique community property laws, which govern how assets are divided during a divorce. These laws can be complex, and having an attorney who understands them is crucial to securing a fair settlement. Whether you are dealing with issues of child custody, spousal support, or the division of property, a seasoned California family law attorney will advocate for your interests and ensure that your case is handled with care and precision.
When searching for the Top 10 Divorce Lawyers, it is important to consider not just their experience, but also their reputation and the quality of their client relationships. The best lawyers are those who can handle complex negotiations, offer clear and compassionate advice, and are committed to achieving the best possible outcomes for their clients. They bring a wealth of knowledge to each case, helping clients to understand their options and make informed decisions.
In both New Jersey and California, the right divorce lawyer can provide you with the support and guidance you need during this challenging time. They will work diligently to protect your interests, whether you are negotiating a settlement or preparing for litigation. Finding a divorce lawyer in New Jersey or a California family law attorney who has the expertise and dedication to handle your case will give you the confidence to move forward and achieve a resolution that is in your best interest.
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andresmejerlaw · 2 months
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hyteche · 8 months
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lawyers fairfax va divorce
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sp5derzz · 9 months
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barlilawllc · 10 months
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Experienced Family Law Attorneys at Barli Law
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Seeking an experienced family law attorney for your divorce? Look no further than Barli Law. Our team is committed to helping families through this trying process. Get the support you deserve by contacting Barli Law now.
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brunoandferraro · 1 year
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Facing criminal charges can wreak Problem on your life. Protect yourself and your rights with a team of highly skilled New Jersey criminal defense lawyers. If you find yourself in a situation involving criminal accusations in New Jersey.
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andresmejerlaw · 5 months
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authorajalexander · 2 years
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Seeking Legal Help? Find It Here!
I’m generally a person who keeps certain things private and doesn’t talk about them much. Also, I’m not one to scream recommendations into the Northern Hemisphere, but today I’m making an exception for a good reason! A few years back, I needed legal help in a matter that was both humiliating and embarrassing at the same time. I knew that without the help of an attorney, I wouldn’t get…
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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 9 months
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Love and Liabilities (Agatha Harkness x FemReader): Chapter One
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Summary: While you attend a pretrial conference for your current case, you’re stunned to learn your opposing council is your former ex…and law school professor, Agatha Harkness
Word Count: 4.7k
Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, Light Choking, Light Degradation Kink, Mommy Kink, Hate Sex
A/N: Hi :) This idea has been bouncing around my brain since the promo pics came out. Lawyer Agatha, the gift we all need for the new year. This is my first real attempt at writing smut, but I hope y’all enjoy. Updates will be around every 2 weeks. If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please let me know. Feel free to let me know what you think! 💜 Also a special shout-out to my sweet girlfriend, Sarah, thank you for always listening to my crazy ideas.
Smoothing out a wrinkle from your pantsuit, you looked over your case materials from outside the courtroom. It had been almost a decade since you graduated law school, and you’d spent the time since working in corporate law as a junior attorney, before leaving the firm and working your way up as a top prosecutor. To say you were married to your job would be an understatement. It wasn’t enough to be good, you simply had to be the best. You’d always pride yourself on your ability to dig deep in a case and pull out missing details, or find a crack in a seemingly perfect alibi. You were ruthless, but you knew you had to be. The defense attorneys you found yourself battling in court were absolute sharks, and if they sensed an ounce of hesitation on your end it would be a total bloodbath.
Dealing with criminal defense cases was as interesting as it sounded, although it wasn’t what you envisioned you’d be doing after law school. You had different dreams back then, more altruistic visions of helping those who needed it. Closing your eyes, you saw a brief flash of the strikingly blue eyes and dark hair that caused you to change your choice of career, before you quickly shook those thoughts aside. It had been almost ten years since you’d allowed yourself to think about her- about any of it, and it wouldn’t benefit you to take a stroll down memory lane before the biggest case of your career.
A law clerk eventually came by to inform you the judge was ready for you. This was it. Gathering your materials, you walked through the details again in your mind. Pre-trial conferences were relatively helpful when trying to reach a plea bargain, review evidence, as well as decide what to present to the jury. There was no doubt in your mind that this case would go to trial. After all, a woman who kidnaps two children and takes them to a small town in New Jersey didn’t leave much to plead innocent from. What was the name of it, Westchester? Westmont? No, no, you mentally crossed those out, until the name finally came to mind…Westview. Westview, New Jersey.
The room was relatively empty, and you recognized the judge, Carol Danvers. She had a reputation for being rather uptight, but was typically fair in her rulings. She’d moved up through various circuit courts throughout her career, and you’d heard rumblings she was being eyed for a potential Supreme Court nomination. Setting your briefcase on the empty chair next to you, you thought of any possible hiccups from the defense. Supposedly a brief psych evaluation had been done after the incident to rule anything out, so they wouldn’t try and plead insanity, right? You couldn’t see Carol ruling in favor of that. There was the small problem of genetics; the woman was the boys’ birth mother. But, you’d looked over the adoption contracts, as had your colleagues, and they were airtight. It had been a closed adoption, and from what you could tell there had been no contact for over a decade. Plus, with solid testimonies from both families and multiple eyewitnesses you weren’t worried of whatever argument the defense would make in her favor.
Speaking of the defense, you quickly realized the defense attorney hadn’t arrived yet, which was a bit unusual. Racking your brain, you tried to remember the name of the attorney Yelena said was leading the case, but no one came to mind. Pepper Potts perhaps? Carol also appeared to notice the lack of the second attorney, as she whispered with one of the law clerks. You could barely make out what they were saying, but she sounded annoyed. But, no matter, you knew this had absolutely no impact on you.
Carol finally sighed in defeat at whatever the law clerk told her, something about hitting a fire hydrant? “Well, as we’re waiting on the defense to resolve their…tardiness, will the prosecution step forward?”
Standing up, you grabbed a copy of your materials, evidence, testimonies, anything the judge would need, before taking a step towards the judge. “Your honor, the state of New York is ready to move forward with our case. You’ll find sufficient evidence to dismiss any plea deal, as well as ensure we can schedule a trial date.”
Handing the papers to the judge, you watched as she flipped through them, an unreadable expression on her face. Minutes passed before she looked up at you. “The prosecution is dismissing the plea deal being proposed by the defense?”
Nodding, you recalled the deal that had been sent over to your office. It was preposterous, and was heavily dependent on the mental state of the defendant, or rather the lack of mental state of the defendant. “Yes, your honor. The state has inculpatory evidence to convict the defendant, as well as a number of witnesses willing to testify.”
A voice you’d only heard in your dreams for the past decade spoke up, and you nearly froze in place. “Inculpatory evidence? That’s a rather bold claim, I’d call it circumstantial at best.”
It couldn’t be. Paralyzed, you forced yourself to ignore it, to ignore her and keep your eyes locked forward. It couldn’t possibly be her, you would have remembered hearing her name as the defense attorney. Clearing your throat, you continued, trying to keep yourself calm. “With all due respect, your honor, the typical procedure for a case involving the abduction of a minor is what we’re basing this precedent on-”
An obnoxiously loud cackle cut you off, and nearly made you whip your head around in annoyance. The slow clacking of heels echoed throughout the room, followed by the faint scent of Burberry that invaded your senses. Brief flashes of lecture halls and late night office hour visits intertwined with the smell of cigars and expensive whiskey. Lengthy, heated arguments over the moral justification of various Supreme Court rulings whilst being undressed and pressed against the door. Diamond jewelry and lavish bouquets being delivered to your modest law school apartment as you sheepishly explained to your roommates you were seeing an older woman. Secret rendezvous in dimly lit piano bars in Manhattan which would end in a king size bed in a penthouse you could never dream of affording.
It all led back to the same thought, the same woman you’d done your best to let go of. The very same woman you currently found yourself standing face to face with. Agatha Harkness. Clever blue eyes met yours, and a slow smirk painted her perfect red lips. She hadn’t changed much over the past decade. Her dark hair, now peppered with some gray, was pinned back with a few loose strands framing her face, and you briefly thought of how well it suited her. The fitted black pantsuit which accentuated her features, and black heels that made her look deceptively tall as she towered over you.
For a moment it was as if no time had passed at all, and you were back in her lecture hall. But as quickly as that oddly nostalgic feeling overcame you like a tidal wave, it swept away, leaving you with the reality of the situation. Clearing your throat, you looked past Agatha, keeping your focus on Judge Danvers. “As I was saying. While looking at prior cases involving the abduction of a minor we were able to set a precedent that-”
Agatha let out another cackle, and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes. However it appeared Carol was at the end of her rope with patience, as she banged her gavel twice. “Does the defense have something they wish to share with the rest of us?”
“Your honor,” Agatha drawled out, her voice sweet like honey, “The prosecution is making bold assumptions on precedents that do not directly follow the evidence of this particular case. To rule anything otherwise would be direct defamation to my client.”
“Defamation?” You all but hissed, momentarily forgetting you were in the middle of a courtroom. The answering smirk Agatha gave you only fuelled your fire. “Your honor, the defense is all but negating the direct evidence of the defendant’s guilt. We would like to proceed to trial while throwing out the plea deal.”
Agatha’s shark tooth grin widened, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was baiting you to get a reaction. Typical, as she always prided herself on being ten steps ahead of her opponent. Taking a deep breath, you regained your calm composure. It would do you no good to allow your emotions to take over. That would merely ensure Agatha to have one more victory over you, one more thing she would take away from you. But things were different this time, you weren’t some feeble, naive law student fawning over her professor. The playing field was finally leveled, and it was about time she realized that.
Unfortunately, you forgot Agatha never played fair. You curiously watched her grab two folders from her briefcase, all but tossing one at you whilst handing Carol the other. “While we’re discussing the plea deal your honor, I’ve included additional information regarding my client’s psychiatric evaluation.”
Practically tearing the folder open, your eyes scanned the lengthy documents before landing on something that nearly made you fall over. Before you could get a word in, Agatha continued on. “Due to our country’s ever failing healthcare and medical practices, my client has been unable to receive a proper psychiatric evaluation. Your honor, I am requesting a continuance to this trial until my client can get the help she needs.”
Carol’s focus remained on the papers, an inscrutable expression coloring her features. “I’m granting a one month continuance for the defendant, Wanda Maximoff, to be given a psychiatric evaluation. As long as Miss Maximoff follows the terms of her probation and doesn’t leave the state of New York, we’ll resume this conference one month from today. Thank you to the prosecution and defense, you’re dismissed.”
Not wanting to see the smug smirk on Agatha’s face, you packed up your materials, including the folder Agatha gave you, and did your best to hurry out of the courtroom. It was foolish to think you’d beat Agatha at the game she taught you to play. That’s what it always was to Agatha, a game. It was like everyone around her was playing checkers while she was constructing the most elaborate game of chess known to man. All while she moved you around as whatever piece she desired; because that’s how she viewed you, as an object she could twist and mold to her liking until you outlived your usefulness.
Ignoring the familiar sound of her heels approaching, you drafted a quick email to one of your colleagues with the news of the trial being halted before going to order your Uber. You didn’t have to look up to know Agatha was standing in front of you, because that was just part of her intricate plan. She surely knew you were furious, because of course she did. Hadn’t she once told you she knew everything? At the time you thought it was a cheeky remark to make you laugh, but looking back you came to terms with the fact that the only person Agatha Harkness could ever care for was herself.
You were growing weary of the rising tension, so you finally broke the silence, keeping your eyes locked on your phone. “Can I help you with something?”
“I’m not sure,” Agatha replied, and although you weren’t looking at her you could practically feel her gaze burning into you. “I never took you for a sore loser, dear.”
There it was, she was trying to get her claws back in you. Keeping your tone even, you checked on the status of your Uber. “I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to. I’m just doing my job.”
Before you could comprehend what was happening, your phone was ripped from your hands. “Hey!” You exclaimed, angrily whipping your head up and your eyes narrowed, meeting the deep blue eyes you used to get lost in. “Give me back my phone.”
“Checking for your ride?” Agatha mocked, arching an eyebrow up at you. “Is that more interesting than talking to me?”
“Watching paint dry would be more interesting than speaking with you,” You retorted, your discomfort quickly growing.
“Now darling, is that any way to speak to me?” Agatha teased, her voice gradually dropping in volume. “It’s been so long.”
Glaring at her, you tried to pry your phone from her hands, but she put it in her back pocket. “And whose fault is that again?” Your voice was laced with venom, you subconsciously wanted to make her feel as badly as you had. “Should we take a stroll down memory lane and recall what caused this?”
Agatha’s gaze hardened at that jab, and you momentarily wondered if you pushed too hard. “I’m surprised you’re leading this case. I thought you wanted to,” she paused and used air quotes, “‘help the voiceless’, not strangle them.”
“How dare you,” You seethed, not caring that your voice was growing in volume. “I’m just doing my job, Agatha. Besides, isn’t strangling the helpless what you do best?”
Agatha tilted her head back, and let out another cackle. “Doing your job? You’re trying to imprison an innocent mother.”
“Your innocent mother kidnapped two minors and took them over state lines,” You fired back, vaguely aware that Agatha was taking small, slow steps towards you.
“She’s still their mother,” Agatha pointed out and you felt your face grow red from rage.
“Regardless of DNA, it was a closed adoption. She waived her parental rights,” You argued, unaware of anything but the infuriating woman standing in front of you. “Surely you’ve been practicing long enough to know how to read a contract.”
“And I thought I taught you to read between the lines of said contracts,” Agatha countered, and you knew she was testing your argument, it’s what she always did. “Things aren’t always black and white, dear.”
No they weren’t, you silently agreed. By this point your back was to the wall of the deserted corridor, Agatha still towering over you. Your faces were practically touching, and you could practically taste her lips. Both of you were panting from the exertion of bickering, and it wouldn’t take much to close the distance. She was so close, closer than she had been to you in so long. Having her back in your orbit, taking over all of your senses, made you forget the reasons you were so angry with her. Instead, it made you remember how many other times you had found yourself in this exact same position.
You could feel your ironclad restraint begin to slip away, and Agatha appeared to notice it as well. She let out a low chuckle as she turned her face to the side, her breath now hot against your ear, and allowing her to whisper, “Looks like it still doesn’t take much to get you riled up, does it?”
Shuddering, you struggled to get your breathing even, thinking of the many reasons why this was a horrible idea. Your history aside, you were on opposing sides of what would most likely be a very public case. It wasn’t just unprofessional to be doing this, it could potentially jeopardize your whole career. But it was hard to think about any of that when you locked eyes with the woman you had spent so much time trying to forget. Her right hand left your waist to push back the loose strands of your hair, tucking them behind your ear.
Each movement was slow, and delicate, and as her fingers slowly trailed down your neck, she gently squeezed, before gradually applying more pressure, and you had to physically restrain yourself from moaning. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and had to close your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. Agatha’s lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open kisses on your flesh while her fingers began to move lower, cupping your left breast before slowly pinching your nipple. This time you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that left your lips, and Agatha quickly used her free hand to silence you, covering your mouth.
“You always had a problem being quiet,” Agatha murmured, lips still on your skin. “Let’s find somewhere more…secluded to continue this, hm?”
Feeling yourself nod, you opened your eyes and let out a pathetic whine as she let go of you. It didn’t take long to find an empty storage closet, and Agatha practically shoved you inside before slamming the door behind her.
Pressing you against the bare wall, her eyes scanned yours before asking, “Are you sure?”
Being with Agatha like this was the greatest euphoric high, and it always left you wanting more and more. It didn’t have to mean anything, and you certainly didn’t want it to. It was just two people working out their frustrations, right? You nodded again, grabbing her right hand and placing it back around your throat. “Are you going to choke me again or are you too much of a coward?”
She nearly growled at that, and squeezed, a little rougher this time. You pressed your face into her shoulder, trying to silence the noises you always made when she touched you. She had barely started but it was so good, and you didn’t hesitate when she used her free hand to try and remove your blazer. Taking a step back to take off your blouse and bra, you nearly tripped over some boxes, and her hands steadied you.
“Careful,” She lightly teased, eyes still dark from arousal. “I’m not nearly finished with you.”
Her hands skillfully unhooked your bra, carelessly tossing it to the side, before lowering her mouth to your breast, and lewdly sucked. As if she anticipated the noises you’d inevitably make, she roughly pressed two fingers in your open mouth for you to suck. Moaning around them, you eagerly sucked and sucked, thinking of where you wanted her fingers to go next. Agatha’s tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it enough to make it go erect before using her teeth to pull. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, your last functioning brain cells wondering how she could still have this strong of an effect on you.
She let out a low hum, clearly enjoying this as much as you were before moving to your other breast, only this time she bit down, and the rush of pain and pleasure flooded you. Unable to cry out as she fucked her fingers further down your throat before adding a third, causing you to gag around them. Releasing your breast, Agatha panted out, “Look at how pathetic you are, sucking on my fingers like a good little slut. What a good girl.”
Whimpering around her fingers, you clenched at the filth spewing from her lips. You hated this, how easily she could flip the switch and have you dripping and wanting her to fuck you through the floorboards. Agatha cooed, using her free hand to gently stroke your face, and roughly pulled her fingers out of your mouth. She was face level again, and you watched the gears turn in her head as she weighed out what to do with you. That same free hand cupped your jaw, and she was so close, your brain buzzing from the endorphins. It was so good, you hated how good it was.
Her normally perfectly red lips were stained and parted slightly as she looked at you with an indecipherable stare, and you were still breathless from her earlier ministrations. Before you could fully comprehend what you were doing, you grabbed her hair and smashed your lips together. You swore you heard her groan, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and you had no time to contemplate it as you felt her tongue teasing the entrance of your mouth. It has been so long, so very long, but you fell back into the familiar dance you could never forget.
Everything Agatha did she dominated, for she had such a strong presence that was impossible to ignore. Just kissing her was enough to get you off, as her tongue expertly swirled around yours, sending you further and further from the edge of reality. You were so far gone you barely noticed her hands moving lower, and lower, until they were pawing at your ass. Groping and grabbing, she was insatiable as she conquered your mouth. You broke apart for merely a second and without speaking, you helped get rid of your pants, slightly stunned you were still this in sync after all this time.
But again, you had no time to ponder that thought as Agatha quickly slammed you against the wall, and you couldn’t help but moan at the pain. The same fingers you eagerly sucked on were now teasing your entrance, rubbing gentle, slow circles. Agatha’s breath was hot in your ear, and you whined, trying to thrust your hips up for more friction. You needed more, you needed her more than ever before. Going without for so long was fine, you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like, what she felt like; but the second you remembered you couldn’t bear a second without it.
“Someone’s awfully worked up,” Agatha taunted, her voice softly whispering in your ear. “Did you want something?”
“Agatha…” You breathed out, your voice nearly cracking. “Please…”
Her fingers teased your clit, and the sensation made you cry out, causing Agatha to silence you with yet another kiss. “Behave,” she murmured against your lips, “Do you want me inside you? Do you want me to fill that sweet little cunt?”
Mewling, you again tried to tilt your hips up, desperate to feel her inside you, but her other hand kept you in place. “Agatha, please, I…I need it, please fuck me.”
Agatha arched an eyebrow, “I know your brain just melts when that pussy gets wet, but we both know that’s not what you want to call me, is it?” Blushing, you tried to avert your eyes but it was impossible. She nipped at your lips before continuing. “Be a good girl and beg for it.”
“Mommy,” The words slipped past your lips and you felt another rush of heat between your legs while Agatha moaned.
“Good girl,” Agatha praised you, and before you could prepare yourself she roughly entered you with two fingers, filling you completely.
Her fingers were so long and so good, hitting the spots you had trouble reaching. You couldn’t help but clench around them, and she groaned in your ear. Wasting no time, she set a fast and hard rhythm, skillfully fucking you better than anyone else since her had been able to.
“I almost forgot how good your cunt feels around my fingers,” Agatha hissed, nibbling on your ear, “Suck me in, slut.”
Your hips met her fingers, and you desperately chased your orgasm. “Harder, please mommy fuck me harder.”
Putting all of her weight on you, Agatha swiftly added a third finger and you nearly squealed at how full you felt. Her fingers were so deep, and you were so close, so very close to the edge.
“Such a good whore for mommy,” Agatha cooed, and her voice was strained, you could tell she was close too. “Do you want to come on my fingers?”
“Mommy please,” You cried out, unable to focus on anything but wanting to feel her fingers make you come harder than you could ever remember.
Agatha’s hips rested against your knee, and she began riding your leg, chasing her own high. “Come for mommy, baby. Soak my fingers.”
Twisting her fingers and hitting your G-spot again, and again causing you to quickly unravel. Feeling your orgasm coming, you clenched around her fingers, needing her to stay inside you. Your knees buckled and you swore you saw stars, unable to speak as you silently cried out. Agatha came right as you did, grunting in your ear and roughly thrusting against your leg as she came undone.
“Fuck,” She panted, keeping her fingers inside you as you continued to twitched around them. “Good girl, such a good girl for mommy.”
Breathing heavily, you gradually felt yourself come back to Earth. You were drenched with sweat, and you were sure you looked positively debauched. Agatha was staring at you with yet another inscrutable expression on her face, and you felt yourself relaxing around her fingers as she slowly pulled out. You grabbed her hand, and lewdly cleaned her fingers off, watching her eyes darken once more as you made a point to swirl your tongue around them until they were clean.
As your brain fog cleared, you were all too aware of the uncomfortable silence growing around you. With every high that came with being with Agatha, it was almost always followed by an indescribable low. There were so many things you wanted to ask her, so many things you needed to know. Brief flashes of arguments and slamming doors. Dozens of unanswered calls, and late nights spent wondering what you had done wrong to deserve her random outbursts of anger. But with every argument, every heated fight, it would always end the same way; with Agatha pressing you against some surface and having her way with you.
There had been so much more going on at that point than you were aware of, and as the pieces slowly came together, she was too far gone for you to be able to help. You’d begged and pleaded with her, but it never mattered. What was it your therapist had said to you? You couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to help themselves. Letting go of her nearly killed you, and now you made the mistake of opening that door again, knowing how much more complicated it would be. You weren’t just her law student anymore, you were on opposing sides of a trial.
It appeared Agatha was having the same train of thought as you, for she wordlessly helped you find your clothes. In spite of her just being inside you, you made a point of turning around as you got dressed, as the air in the room seemed to drop and any of the warmth that had been there prior had disappeared. There was so much you wanted to say, yet simultaneously wanted to get as far away from her as you could.
Agatha finally broke the silence as she fixed her hair, and she was back to her usual condescending self. “You know you’re wrong pursuing this case, right? It’s not too late to back out.”
Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed your phone from her back pocket and saw your Uber driver understandably canceled your ride. That would certainly tank your rating. You quickly ordered another before replying with, “You know this meant absolutely nothing to me, right?”
Pushing past her to exit the room, she let out another cackle, the sound like grating nails on a chalkboard in your ears. You knew she wouldn’t follow you, and you were thankful for that. This was an indiscretion, a momentary lapse of judgment. You’ve been on edge with all the extra hours you’ve been working; you weren’t thinking clearly. The courthouse was still relatively empty, and you left the building, trying to get the thought of Agatha out of your mind. Why did she have to be so infuriating?
Your Uber eventually rolled up and as you got in you went to check your work email. It never failed to amaze you how quickly your inbox would fill up when you didn’t check it for more than five minutes. Scrolling through, you vaguely listened to the music your driver had in in the background, until a familiar song started playing. Frank Sinatra, a favorite artist of a certain attorney. The Way You Look Tonight had always been one of her favorites, and you could remember the last time you listened to it together.
Your mind absentmindedly drifted, the memories you’d tried to lock away slowly creeping back up to the surface. It seemed no matter how hard you tried to forget, she didn’t want you to. Settling into your seat, listening to Frank Sinatra, you thought back to the first time you met Agatha, or rather, how you met Professor Harkness.
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sundaramasamyr · 8 months
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virginia family law attorneys
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drdemonprince · 7 months
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Keep Unnecessary Meetings to a Minimum 
“Don’t attend unnecessary meetings,” advises Jersey, an Autistic activist in the San Francisco Bay Area. 
Jersey has been on the front lines of numerous pro-Palestinian actions in the past several months, serving as a medic during the #BlocktheBoat action to delay the shipment of munitions to Israel, shutting down the Oakland Federal Building, and blocking the Bay Bridge, an action for which he was arrested and charged with false imprisonment (among other laughable charges) by the San Franciso District Attorney. Since the siege on Gaza began in October of last year, Jersey has been living and breathing for the Palestinian cause. Yet even he has limits. 
“Tell [fellow organizers] that your capacity for meeting, especially in real life, is low,” he says. Instead of having to speak at length with organizers about your interest in getting involved, see if you can articulate your own role within the movement. That way, you won’t have to be “managed” as much. 
“For example, if you’re a photographer, tell people that and then demonstrate that you can show up relatively independently, take great photos, and then show them with the group,” he says. Once you have proven yourself to be reliable and competent, you can skip meetings without facing as much criticism. 
Many organizing spaces are oriented around neuro-conformist standards of what socializing and planning for an event must look like. Non-Autistic people generally process new information socially as part of an ongoing dialogue, whereas many Autistics prefer receiving all the relevant facts in a single, linear document they can read and process on their own. Many activists also enter a movement with intense emotional needs, and wish for others to bear witness to their suffering and share how they are feeling too. This means that those of us who find socializing and emotional processing to be draining will have to advocate for ourselves. 
“We can remind organizations to be intentional about what does and does not have to be a meeting,” says Aeryn, another organizer. “Sometimes all you really need is an online survey, a memo, or a thread where people can ask questions online.” 
If you can, tell meeting organizers that you are unavailable to meet often, but that you will listen to meeting recordings or read the agenda on your own time, and then communicate through email or private message to indicate that you have. Depending on how much you trust an organization and its leadership, you can either explain directly that you cannot process information in real-time easily because of your disability, or you can simply say you’re busy with school, work, or family obligations. 
Operating independently may require being strategic in the roles you take on within an organization. Jersey says: “If you’ve never done security but want to do security, you will have to do a lot of training and meeting with people. But if you’re already a trained medic and have some type of credential… you can probably just tap into a medic chat and sign up for events as they arise.” This, in fact, is what he’s done. 
Of course, it will be sometimes be necessary to get to know other members of your organization of choice, express your own perspectives to the group, and receive updates through some form of meeting. However, there are still many accommodations you can request to make those meetings more accessible: 
Push for Accessible Meetings
When an activist movement is new or its resources are limited, its meetings may tend to be urgent, somewhat disorganized affairs, rife with lots of thinking out loud and amorphous brainstorming and possessing little in the way of an agenda. 
Autistic people typically find it very hard to contribute to such meetings, because the flow of conversation is unpredictable and confusing, and most of us struggle with knowing when it’s appropriate to jump in and offer a comment. The constant flux in conversation topics is exhausting for us to keep up with, as are all the social and emotional undercurrents bubbling beneath what’s actually being said. 
After the meeting is over, we may have almost no recollection of what was shared, because we were putting so much energy into masking and wearing our “listening faces.” Critiques and questions may occur to us hours after the discussion has ended, after we’ve had some time alone to digest and reflect. Even if we are physically present within a space, we are pervasively excluded when meetings are conducted in such an unstructured, overwhelming way. 
Thankfully, all of this can be avoided. Here are some of the accommodations that organizing meetings should provide in order to maximize their accessibility — not just for the sake of Autistics, but for anyone who struggles to process verbal information quickly and form their own immediate verbal responses to it on the fly: 
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The full essay and toolkit of resources is free to read (or have narrated to you!) at drdevonprice.substack.com
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barlilawllc · 1 year
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my-autism-adhd-blog · 10 months
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Hi everyone,
I found a very disheartening article about an 11 year old boy being handcuffed and put into a patrol car after he had an incident in one of his classes. According to the article:
The Douglas County school district and sheriff’s office have resolved a lawsuit with a local family and agreed to safety improvements for students with special needs.
The ACLU of Colorado filed a lawsuit against the Douglas County School District, Douglas County Sheriff’s Office and specific school resource officers in 2021 on behalf of an 11-year-old boy with autism.
The boy was handcuffed and left in a patrol car for hours after an incident with another student. There is police body camera video showing how the 11-year-old was handled.
“He unfortunately harmed himself in the back of the car, becoming so dysregulated based on what had happened to him. He was also then taken to a juvenile center, and his parents had to bond him out for $2,500,” said Sara Neel, an ACLU attorney.
The full article will be below.
This is just unnecessary. I get that some autistic people, and people in general, can have issues with emotional responses and aggression. I’m not sure if this incident was caused by said behavior, but handcuffing a kid is going a bit too far. They should’ve tried to talk to him and figure out why this happened, not handcuff and throw him in a patrol car. (Not literally throwing).
This is just another example of how autistic kids are treated by an authority figure.
In one article I posted, a boy was kicked out of a theater because he went to the bathroom with his mom. The person running the theater was very disrespectful and even had the audacity to be transphobic at the end when he said the bathrooms aren’t meant for trans people.
The boy was only going to the bathroom with his mom, who mentioned that he needed help when going to the bathroom. The other women in the room seemed understanding and didn’t say a word. I wish the guy running the theater would be more understanding. He was just rude and very disrespectful.
I found the article if you want to read through it.
Anyway, I just wanted to talk about an article I found today that made me a bit upset and angry. I hope those of you who celebrate thanksgiving are having a wonderful day/night. ♥️
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brunoandferraro · 1 year
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andresmejerlaw · 6 months
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morbidology · 4 months
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Growing up in the projects in New York, Jonathan Luna always dreamed of going to college and making his family proud. He graduated from Fordham University and the law school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He eventually settled down in Elkridge, Baltimore, where he got married and had two sons while working as an Assistant United States Attorney.
The 4th of December, 2003, started just like any other day for Jonathan. He kissed his family goodbye before departing for work. He had been working on a trial which involved two men who were suspected in running a drug ring. One of the men was also facing a murder charge. Jonathan had spent the entire evening working on the case and left a voice message to a co-worker at approximately 9PM that night, saying he was ready to go home and that he would see him the following morning.
They were going to offer the two men a plea deal and Jonathan said he was going to work on it at home throughout the night so it would be ready for the morning. According to the clocking out system in his office car park, Jonathan didn’t leave the officer until 11:38PM, leaving behind his phone and glasses, which he needed to drive.
What happened next is shrouded in speculation.
At around 1AM, Jonathan’s car entered Delaware where $200 was lifted from an ATM. He then crossed into New Jersey and on to Pennsylvania at around 4AM. His E-Z Pass was used on the I-95 into Delaware but after this, he started to purchase toll tickets. His car was then parked behind a Sensenig & Weaver in Denver, Pennsylvania. At around 5:30AM, a worker of Sensenig & Weaver arrived to discover the discarded car with blood smeared all over the door and the front of the car.
When the worker peered into the car window, he found a large puddle of blood on the back seat and back footwell. The car was partially in a creek and underneath the car, the worker discovered Jonathan’s bloody body. He had sustained 36 stab wounds with his own penknife.
The pathologist that performed the autopsy said that Jonathan's hands had been “shredded” and that his scrotum and throat had both been slashed before he drowned to death in the creek. Inside the car, detectives found that the purchased toll tickets had blood smeared on them, indicating that he was already injured when purchasing the tickets. Additionally, the puddle of blood in the back seat indicated that he hadn’t been driving the car, but somebody else.
While the death was initially ruled as a homicide, “law enforcement sources” soon began to speculate that he had taken his life and thus a smear campaign on Jonathan’s reputation was born. It was soon reported that Jonathan had most likely been involved in a robbery case in which $36,000 went missing. The Baltimore Sun implied that Jonathan was involved in the robbery and had ended his life because he feared losing his job. Everybody that knew Jonathan had nothing but pleasant words to say about him and found the allegations to be “a well timed hit job on Luna’s reputation.” The FBI ascertained that Jonathan had ended his own life but the local Lancaster counter authorities were adamant that he had been murdered.
What happened to Jonathan Luna from the moment he left his place of employment until he ended up stabbed and slashed in a murky creek still remains a mystery.
While the FBI believes he ended his own life, this leaves too many question. For one, how could he have driven approximately 95 miles without his glasses? Why did he switch from using his E-Z Pass to toll tickets? Why would he have stabbed himself 36 times as well as slashing his scrotum, throat, and hands? What would motivate him to end his life when he was known by all to be an upbeat, full of life, family man? The case still remains open with a $100,000 reward for information leading to a conviction.
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