#cooperative parenting lawyers

[familylawyerbarrie]

Transformative Parenting Solutions in Barrie

In today's rapidly evolving world, parents face a myriad of challenges when it comes to raising their children. From navigating the complexities of technology to fostering emotional well-being, the need for transformative parenting solutions has become paramount. This blog aims to explore transformative parenting solutions tailored to the specific needs of Barrie's parents, offering valuable insights and guidance.

Understanding the Essence of Transformative Parenting

Transformative parenting is a holistic approach that focuses on nurturing a child's physical, emotional, and cognitive development, ultimately empowering them to become confident, resilient, and compassionate individuals. It encompasses a wide range of techniques and practices, considering each child's unique characteristics. From mindful parenting to positive discipline methods, transformative parenting emphasizes fostering healthy parent-child relationships based on trust, communication, and mutual respect. 

Key Transformative Parenting Solutions 

Community Engagement and Support: Barrie offers a wealth of resources and community organizations dedicated to supporting parents and children. From parenting workshops to playgroups, these initiatives provide valuable opportunities for parents to connect with like-minded individuals, gain insights from experts, and share their experiences. By actively engaging in the local community, parents can access a network of support, exchange ideas, and gather valuable knowledge to enhance their transformative parenting journey.

Technology Management: In the digital age, managing children's exposure to technology has become a pressing concern for parents. Barrie recognizes this challenge and provides various educational programs and workshops focused on digital literacy and responsible technology use. By equipping parents with the necessary tools and knowledge, Barrie empowers them to guide their children in developing healthy habits, ensuring a balanced approach to technology and fostering digital well-being.

By implementing these cooperative parenting solutions, parents in Barrie can empower their children to thrive and become resilient individuals capable of adapting to future challenges. For more information on transformative parenting solutions, contact JMS Law.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | now you got me

ix. now you got me by inhaler

series masterlist | previous | next

the happy little bubble you and luke made for yourselves inevitably bursted a few days after you made it official– though if you asked luke, you rejected his advances, which always earned an eye roll from you followed by a long kiss to his lips that had him silent for the next five minutes. you knew he was milking the hell out of you saying no to his question until he let you listen to the song, but you were his and he was yours regardless of the title. 

you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing as you ran your fingers down the marks on your neck. you added a turtleneck under your chb shirt, not having enough energy to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup, and you definitely didn’t have the energy to explain to people how you got them. thankfully, the weather cooperated with you today. it was unusually cold for the summer, a slight breeze entering your room from your opened window. as you continued to get ready for the day, your phone buzzed with a text from your dad. 

‘hey kid, can you come to my office real quick?’

you hadn’t spoken to your dad in weeks, not since he stormed out of the cabin after finding out what started the fight with your teammate. this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him. you texted a thumbs up and made your way out of your room. 

luke was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of everyone, looking at you with wondering eyes, “where are you going?” 

“my dad wants to talk.” 

“do you want me to come with you?” luke got up from where he sat. you told him last night that you’d been avoiding your dad as much as possible, and he did the same with you. as much as you guys butted heads, luke knew that it was taking a toll on you. you shared that you were scared about what would become of your relationship with your dad. luke, being as close to his mom as you were with your dad, understood. he knew what it was like to feel like your biggest supporter was giving up on you. it wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemy, and definitely not a feeling he’d ever wish on you. 

“no, it’s fine,” you clenched your jaw, shaking your head. 

luke’s shoulders slumped over as he stuttered in his actions to sit back down, “oh, okay–uh, let me know if you need anything.” 

you nodded and waved a small goodbye before exiting the cabin. your heart was pounding the entire time you made your way to your dad’s office. a lot of things had been weighing on you this summer– your probation, a possible dent on your record, your estrangement from your parents, luke– and it was a lot to handle. camp half blood was supposed to keep you away from the problems that existed in your day-to-day life, but it seemed to follow you. 

you entered your dad’s office to see him typing away on his laptop. his eyebrows raised when you walked in, motioning for you to shut the door. he closed his laptop and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. he took a deep breath, “hey, kid.” 

“hi, dad,” you replied, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. you sat on the usual chair in front of his desk and leaned back, “what’s up?” 

“i, uh,” he cleared his throat, “i just wanted to say i’m sorry for how we left things. i shouldn’t have stormed out like that. i was just angry. but not at you, at myself for making you feel like you had to fight these battles for me.” 

he leaned across his desk to hold your hands, “you’re my kid, y’know. my job is to protect you, not the other way around. so i apologize if i ever made you feel like you had to come to my defense.” 

“and i’m sorry for being mia the last few weeks,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands, “i’ve been in contact with my lawyers and they’re working on making sure the charges against you don’t stick so i’ve been pretty busy with that.” 

“you think it’ll get sorted out?” you asked. 

“yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s finishing up and i think you might even be able to play this season,” your dad smiled. “but i have to deal with a pr crisis right now that sprung up on me this morning.” 

your shoulders relaxed at your dad’s words. at least your probation was getting sorted out. that was one less thing to worry about. you tugged on the sleeves of your turtleneck as you got comfortable on your chair, “what’s the pr crisis?” 

he sighed, pulling out his laptop, “something with the band.” 

you hoped your dad didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes. because you hadn’t been talking to your dad, he didn’t know about the recent developments between you and luke. you two didn’t show much pda outside of the cabin, scared that one of the campers would break their nda and post a picture of the two of you. neither of you were ready to tell the world about you two yet. it’s too soon. you didn’t even have the “what’s going to happen to us after summer?” conversation yet. 

“what happened?” 

“some pap pictures leaked. it’s of this new actress in hollywood and a guy leaving her hotel room. the press is reporting that the guy is luke. it looks a lot like him and you know the media– they run any story that’ll get them clicks even if it’s not fully fact-checked as long as they add the word ‘allegedly’ to the article,” he rolled his eyes, turning his computer to face you. “nobody knows where the pictures came from, so we don’t know if it’s actually luke or not, but i’ve been on the phone with may and their team all morning trying to do damage control. she’s telling the guys about the pictures right now.” 

at first glance, your heart dropped to your stomach. the guy did look an awful lot like luke. the rational part of you knew that this was probably taken before the two of you met because you’ve seen him every day since and he was practically imprisoned at chb all summer, but then you thought of your impromptu trip to achilles’ arcade and it made you want to throw up. if luke could sneak away with you like that, it would’ve been easy for him to do the same when he was alone. 

were the nights he didn’t spend in your bed because he was “writing” just an excuse to sneak off to meet up with the girl in the picture? she was gorgeous, after all. blonde, tall, the perfect new hollywood star. they’d make such a great power couple. the two rising stars in their respective industries, the perfect pair. 

the boy’s face, who may or may not be luke, was covered by his hood, but you can clearly see that he was kissing the girl deeply, with his hand placed on the curve of her back. the next picture was them with their fingers laced together as she led him into the hotel, giggling at something he said. the guy had a similar build as luke and dressed the same way as he did when he was having a lazy day– sweatpants, hoodie, and converses. 

bile made its way up your throat as you continued to scroll through the pictures. you looked at the time stamp of the photos and closed your eyes, wincing, when you saw that they were taken two days ago. luke didn’t sleep in your room two days ago, nor was he in the cabin. he showed up the next day saying that he was in the studio, trying to finish up the song so you would officially accept being his girlfriend. 

you squinted at a close-up picture of the pair, zoning in on the guy's hand. you breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers immediately clutching the ring that rested on your index finger. you turned the laptop back to your dad, “that’s not luke.” 

his eyebrows shot up, looking between you and his laptop screen, “how do you know?” 

“look at his rings,” you pointed at the bands around the guy’s fingers, “luke doesn’t wear a ring on his ring finger anymore. and look, the guy has a ring there and it’s gold.” 

“how are you so sure? what if he just decided to wear it that day?” 

“trust me,” you waved off, “he’s particular about his jewelry. he stopped wearing one on his ring finger a while ago. and luke doesn’t wear gold jewelry.” 

your dad narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, shutting his laptop, “i didn’t realize you were that close to luke that you had his accessories memorized.” 

“ah– well,” you cleared your throat, looking down at your feet. you felt caught. “s’your fault, really. you made us live together.” 

“is there something you need to tell me, kid?” 

you got up from your seat, quickly making your way to the door, “geez, dad, i didn’t realize the time! i promised clar that i’d help her with camp duties, so i gotta go. thanks for all your help on the probation and permanent record thing. you’re the best!” 

you didn’t bother to turn around to see your dad’s reaction to your excuse. you knew that he could see right through you. 

you dad called from behind you, his joking tone camouflaged by his “dad” voice, “tell castellan that if he does anything wrong, i’ll kill him and his career!” 

“love you!” 

your dad shook his head, biting back the smile on his face, “love you too, kid.” 

as you were rushing back to your cabin, you ran smack dab into luke who was frantic, worry evident on his features. his eyes widened when he saw you and he placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you so you didn’t fall at the impact. 

“five star,” he sighed out, out of breath, “i don’t know if mr. d told you but those pictures aren’t me, i swear!” 

you had two options– you could one, tell him that you knew it wasn’t him and put him out of his misery or two, you could pretend to not believe him and make him sweat. luke looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg you to believe him. you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a powerpoint presentation listing the reasons why it wasn’t him in those pictures. 

you pursed your lips, “i saw the pictures luke.” 

“and they weren’t me!” he said, exasperated. his eyebrows knitted in anxiety, as he chewed on the nail of his thumb, “you gotta believe me, babe. i don’t know who that guy is but i can promise you it’s not me.” 

you tried not to swoon at the pet name that left his lips. “how do i know that? you weren’t home the night those pictures were taken.” 

“i know it looks bad, but look,” he ran a hand through his curls. “i finished the song the boys wrote and you can go listen to it right now, but then that night, i got caught up with a song idea about you and i stayed up all night to write it. you can listen to the demo right now if you want. you can listen to all the demos you want if that gets you to believe me. i think the recordings have timestamps too, so you’ll see i was in there all nigh–”

“down, pretty boy,” you couldn’t keep it up any longer. luke looked like he was two seconds away from bursting into tears and as much as you wanted to hear him yap, you didn’t have it in your heart to drag it on. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly relaxed at the feeling. 

your lips moved in sync as his hands found your waist, pressing you closer to him. his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted. it was the sound of clarisse and chris inside the cabin, tapping against the windows that pulled you and luke apart. you both turned to look at your friends who all had shit-eating grins on their faces. 

travis and connor were behind the couple, shaking their heads, “get a fucking room, you heathens.” 

luke flipped them off and pressed a softer, more innocent kiss on your lips before you spoke. “i knew it wasn’t you. just wanted to see you sweat a little bit.” 

“that was mean,” he pouted, but he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. he always seemed to smile after he kissed you. it made you want to kiss him again, starting a never-ending chain of kisses that would surely lead the two of you to be unproductive for the rest of the day. “i was so scared, five star, you have no idea. the fucker looked so much like me.” 

you laughed, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, “trust me, i know. my heart dropped to my ass when i first saw them, but i knew it wasn’t you.” 

“how’d you know?” 

“the rings,” you flushed, thinking about how crazy you must sound knowing these small details about him.

“shit, five star,” he whistled, surprised. there was a warmth in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body at the idea of you paying attention to these things about him. “nothing can get past you, huh? i didn’t even notice that.”

“yeah, at least you know not to sneak around behind me because i’ll find out,” you teased, lacing your fingers together as you slowly made your way up the steps of the cabin. luke stood in his spot, pulling on your hand to get you to to turn around. you walked over to him, confused, “what’s up?” 

“y’know i wouldn’t think of doing that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly serious. “i would never do that to you.” 

your eyes softened as a wistful look appeared on your face. you kissed his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of luke wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight hug. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, placing a feather-light kiss on his jugular, “yeah, yeah.” 

“‘m serious,” he pulled away, holding your face in his hands. he was staring at you intently, making sure that you were hearing his words. you never gave him an indication that you didn’t trust him, but luke knew that it was better to tell you these things straight up if he wanted to have a real relationship with you. he knew it takes a toll on the people he dates (not that he’s had any relationships like what he has with you) to see these bullshit stories online. if he was in your position, he knew the reassurance would help. luke placed a kiss on your forehead, “i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up if i can help it, five star.”

you let out a forced laugh, awkwardly shifting in his grasp, “yeah, given that my dad controls your contract, i know you wouldn’t.” 

luke frowned, “not because of that.” 

“uh huh,” you said, feeling too vulnerable right now. you didn’t know how to handle this situation, so you coped with humor, “he likes you so don’t worry, your contract extension is practically in the bag.” 

“y/n.” 

you tensed at luke’s use of your real name. he never called you by your name. he always called you by the nickname he gave you when he first met you. five star. you knew luke wasn’t in the mood to joke around. “luke, it’s fine.” 

“i don’t want to pick a fight,” he sighed, playing with the hem of your shirt, “but i just need to hear you say that you believe me when i say that. i wouldn’t cheat on you or do anything to make you feel like i ever would.” 

your voice shook as you spoke, “what if you’re just saying that because it’s still summer and we see each other every day? what’s gonna happen when i’m back in school and you’re out in the world traveling and living your rockstar life?” 

luke’s heart broke at your words. did you really think that he would forget about all of this once september rolled around? as if you didn’t consume his thoughts every day since he met you, as if he didn’t count down the minutes until he got to see you again when he was forced to be away from you because he had things to do, as if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his stomach when you weren’t next to him. he was starting to think you didn’t understand just how deeply he felt about you even when you assured him that you did understand. 

“i’m not gonna lie, long distance is gonna be hard,” he said, “but we can figure it out. i know it.” 

“i never knew you were such an optimist, castellan.” 

luke laughed at that. if only you knew how many times he psyched himself out of making a move on you because of his own pessimism. it only changed recently, when he finally decided to say fuck it and go for it. “for you? always. i’d be stupid not to be. you’re a good thing, five star.” 

luke fucking castellan. you pressed your head into his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your face. he gave you a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. he loved having you like this, all soft and cuddly with him like you didn’t want to let him go. he should be scared at how quickly he was falling for you, how attached he already felt. 

you kissed his lips again, pulling away with a smile, “so babe huh?” 

“babe, baby, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss you again. “anythin’ you want.”

[blackynsupremacy]

WHEN I THINK OF YOU

ooh, baby

anytime my world gets crazy

all i have to do to calm it

is just think of you

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

part two: a glamorous life series

read part one

summary: it’s the year 1987 and you’re an heiress of one of the most affluent african-american families in the nation. you’re still reeling from the double date with cooper, valerie, and nicholas. that night when he confronted you changed something within you. you can’t seem to get him off of your mind, so you try to occupy yourself with studying and writing new compositions to ease your wandering thoughts. that is until you’re required to attend, present, and perform at a networking gala of the elite with your parents. their immense pressure of high expectations only builds up within you and you run to a secluded garden to find some sort of peace, only for nicholas to stumble upon you in your panicked state.

contains: eighties au, songfic, luxury vibes, enemies to lovers, slow burn, mention of wet dreams, swearing, alcohol consumption, slight mutual pining, reader can be a bit toxic, character development, angst, anxiety, hurt/comfort, heart to heart between nick and reader, reader’s parents are a trip, insecurity, fluff.

taglist: @sabrinasopposite @supaprettyg @xoxoglittergossip @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn @stereotypicalbarbie @hnch33rios @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @camiesully @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez

a/n: likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! if you want to be added to the taglist let me know!

“ugh, damnit. that’s shit!”

you let out an aggravated groan as you’ve needed to go back to square one on this presentation. your finger repeatedly hitting the “backspace” button of your macintosh keyboard. you’ve been playing around with the new program titled “powerpoint” that had been freshly released by microsoft. your teeth sunk into your pouty, bottom lip as you were seated in the mini office you created of the luxury penthouse apartment that wasn’t far from your university. the large glass window reflected the golden hues of the sunny afternoon as the skyscrapers mingled with the clouds as a few airplanes flew overhead. a forest green fountain ink pen was being flicked back and forth between your fidgeting fingers. you frantically bounced your knees, your crossed legs clenching tighter with each of tick of the clock on the wall. there was a tingle deep within your stomach, both a mix of pain and pleasure. the pain was from the pressure of tomorrow night’s networking gala. all of the top families, including yours and valerie’s, were supposed to be in attendance. this wasn’t just any gala where you dress to the nine’s, get your photos captured, and rub elbows with the crème de la crème. this was the type of gala to get your name and/or business circulating as the future of whatever brand your parents dominated throughout the room. this included surgeons, politicians, lawyers, and corporate executives. there was going to be presentations, business proposals, and of course entertainment all demonstrated by the young, ambitious, and wealthy. you look at it more like a dog show. a bunch of hot shit loaded parents that love to compare and contrast each other’s children like they were the diamond rings or cuban imported cigars they purchased on the regular. not only did you have to present a fresh and new business proposal for l/n technological enterprises, but you also had to perform some pieces for the guests on the grand piano, all to show that you were “well-rounded”.

as the heiress of one of the few affluent african american families in your area, a lot of eyes would be on you that night, especially the scrutinizing gaze of your own father, f/n l/n, the current ceo of l/n technological enterprises. your family’s reputation held an immense value to him. you were the only child he and your mother had, so he didn’t cut corners when it came to how you were raised. he ensured you attended the top schools, learned the vocabulary of l/n enterprises, and that you took an extracurricular that gave you an air of elegance, beauty, and grace. that’s how you were introduced to the grand piano. despite the repetitive practicing of scales, chords, and arpeggios by the strictest of piano instructors, you’ve actually grown to love the instrument and performing altogether. the bottom line was that you were gonna be the face of the l/n line of business by any means necessary. you father explained that their eyes would be on you because they expected nothing, but failure from a young, black woman coming up in the corporate world. it was a fucking shame. the society as you knew it was constantly changing and there were still people who were so stuck in their ways due to the culture of over twenty years ago. you felt like that you shouldn’t have to prove your worth to those prejudiced critics, but at the same time, you want to show them that you can do what they do and do it better. regardless of race or sex.

although, you had that stinging anxiety, there was another thing bubbling in your stomach: a rush of excitement. not really towards the event itself, but towards him. the only man you could think about without recoiling in disgust. the only man that you’d ever want to give a shot in this lifetime: nicholas alexander chavez. the thoughts of him kept racing through your mind as you remember that fateful night when you two first met. let’s just say you didn’t really welcome him with open arms as he attempted to do for you. you were just so fed up from the past that you believed all of the men within your social standing were cocky, narcissistic, and materialistic bastards that insist a woman puts out on the first date, but refuses to let her finish first and still, they claim to be top of the food chain. nicholas chavez does come from a bloodline of wealthy, successful lawyers, but the more you think about it, he was an open minded down-to-earth individual that valued integrity and earned respect rather than buying it off others like a typical yuppie asshole. speaking of assholes, you were one-hundred percent in that area towards him during that evening out on the town. this man was gracious enough to give you chance after chance to redeem yourself, but you kept going with your vicious attitude and devious scheme to bring out the worst in him. you pushed that button so far that he rightfully confronted you on your brash behavior, publicly at that. after he did so, you hated him less and desired him even more once your mood turned around. after apologizing, you two had a great time for the rest of the night and you assumed that after he’d drop you off that he would keep in touch. a twinge of hurt hit your chest each day when you look at your telephone with expectancy. you were hoping that he’d search the phone book or the call the operator to reach your line but, there was no word from nicholas.

you’d given him the benefit of the doubt. perhaps he was busy with his studies, spending time with family, or hanging out with cooper or his other friends. you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to keep in touch because you were being an asshole. you were reluctant to try to seek out for him, but with the this deadline of the gala, you were swamped with even more stress. you were determined of one thing though: that the next time you’d see nicholas chavez, you were going to show him the natural good side of you that he should’ve seen the first time you’ve met. you’re not necessarily a terrible human being. you have flaws, of course, your bitterness just got the best of you that night. you were going to be cordial and collected, yet still direct and outspoken. those enchanting thoughts of nicholas haunted you throughout the week. they didn’t cease when you found yourself daydreaming, or maybe even hallucinating that he was even here in your apartment. you could be doing the most mundane tasks and hear his voice teasingly whisper your name, the ghost of his kiss lingering on your skin, or you’d envision his strikingly handsome face whenever you slept. his burly arms would snake around your waist, holding you up so close within the shield of his body as if you were to be taken from him for good. he’d never allow that to happen. when primping yourself in the mirror, your heart would instantly flutter at the thought of him telling you how beautiful looked, whether you wore makeup or not.

it went from bad to worse when after a long day of studying and shopping with valerie, you treated yourself to a candlelit bubble bath. your nude, exhausted body soaked within the white sud-filled, rose scented water. your brown eyes shut tightly and your breath hitched within your chest. you envisioned nicholas’ tall, sculpted, and nude body loom over yours from behind. his large, tanned palm would smoothly glide along the melanated skin of your bare neck, chest, and navel. the cold metal of the rings he’d possessed on some of his fingers would send goosebumps with every touch as they slid further and further until finally reaching to where you wanted—no, needed him the most. nicholas would be smart enough to tell if it’s been a long time since you’ve been intimately served properly. a smug little grin would play upon his lips when he got straight to business. before you could hear him call you a good girl for taking it all so well, your body jolted awake when you almost drowned in your bathtub due to a fucking wet dream. such a dumb way to die. fuck, fuck, fuck! nicholas’ effect on you was serious.

“i don’t know. i-it’s just when things get crazy, i can’t help, but to think about him i—ugh, it’s not fucking funny, valerie!” you frustratingly shout, chucking one of your satin pillows at your best friend. valerie was in stitches, hysterically laughing on your satin duvet after you told her about the thoughts you’ve been having about her new boyfriend’s best friend. it was now the afternoon before the gala and everything you needed to prepare and practice for was finally completed. you had a few short hours to yourself until valerie stopped by your apartment. she was there at first to inform you of the news that she and cooper koch were officially an item after they ventured out on a couple more dates. they were keeping it lowkey from the public to avoid any drama until it was the right time. as her best friend, you were happy for her! you gave her a warm embrace, signifying your congratulations. it was all happy and what-not before you switched the subject of the conversation to nicholas chavez.

“oh—but it is, haha! if him getting you together in the restaurant wasn’t funny enough, this takes the cake.” valerie squealed out. she catches and hugs the pillow against her chest and sits herself upright with her legs crossed. you huff out a breath with a perturbed look on your face before valerie continues to speak,

“i told you that you were gonna be into nicholas, but damn, girl! you’re already fantasizing about him like that?—you got it bad.”

“heh.” you scoff, shaking your head with your arms crossed, “you know what’s the most fucked up part of it, valerie?”

“dish.” she urges, her eyes not pulling away from you.

“i’ve never heard from him since the date.”

“you mean—he hasn’t called? you don’t think he’s checked the phone book?”

you shook your head.

“not even the operator?”

“nope.” you reply with a pop of your lips.

“that’s odd, y/n. i thought that after you apologized, that you two hit it off for the rest of the night.”

“that’s what i’m saying! it’s confusing as hell.”

“maybe it’s possible karma? i mean, you were a bit of a—”

“bitch, if you finish that sentence, i will throw you out quicker than flo jo.”

valerie raises her hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

“well, shit! okay—look, you just gotta be patient. you know that nicholas is a busy college student like us, right? plus, he’s just a guy, so don’t sweat it, y/n. you’ve already got enough on your plate with this gala tonight.” valerie stated, standing from her position to approach you with a comforting hand on your tense shoulder. after taking a drawn out breath, you deliberately nod and lean your head on valerie’s shoulder.

“you’re right, val. i’m just ready to get this dog show over with. you know how my father gets if i don’t meet his standard of excellence.” with a roll of your eyes, you take a step away from her. for the rest of her brief visit, you both continue to converse about the possible logistics of tonight’s event over a light snack of raspberry sorbet at the bar in your kitchen. you both bursted out in a cacophony of laughter after valerie dished out some juicy socialite gossip. there was a beat of silence and valerie took a stab at breaking the ice one final time.

“you know, y/n, a little birdie told me that the chavez family would be in attendance tonight…” she trailed off to wash out her now empty glass. you stayed silent and send her a piqued, yet irked glare.

“what the hell does the chavez family got to do with me?—that little birdie wouldn’t happen to be your precious koch boy, would it?”

“mm-mm.” she murmured with a shrug. “just make sure you look extra fine tonight, okay?”

you squint your eyes, sliding more sorbet into your mouth. her and cooper are really a match made in heaven: rich, beautiful, and meddling brats.

“you cryptic bitch. you bug me out so much, you make me want to do a line. with my luck, nicholas would avoid me like the plague.” you dryly spoke as you stood up from your seat to clean out your own glass. you and valerie share another moment of laughter and she takes her leave to get ready for the gala. when finally alone, you promptly make your way to your walk-in closet. this closet was your sanctuary that contained the finest brands of clothes, shoes, and accessories of your era. you walk a few feet in, and your eyes land on the sleek, black strapless maxi dress with a bit of a low-cut in the front. it was simple, sexy, and most of all, elegant. your mother got it specially ordered and exclusively designed for you for this night alone. despite her being an overbearing tight-ass sometimes, you’d appreciate gestures like this. plus, that woman had an eye for fashion. before performing your hygienic routine, you call up your beauty team, mack and lori, to ease the burden of hair and makeup. you don’t usually mind performing your own beauty routine regularly, but this was one of those nights when it was crucial to look and be the best. once they gave you their confirmation, you use the next few hours to pamper your body in the best of your soaps, lotions, and perfumes. from face to feet, every part of your melanin was cleaned, polished, and glowing. as if timing weren’t perfect enough, mack and lori buzzed in. you enthusiastically give them access to come up to your place and they begin to work their cosmetic magic on your natural features. during the process, you all got caught up in amicable chatter, juicy gossip, and wise-cracking.

it was nearing fifteen minutes until the event started. you were clad in the elegant black number you’ve chosen. the dress embraced every single curve and dip of your figure as it effortlessly cascaded down to the floor. your arms were adorned by a set of matching opera gloves as your neck with the eighteen-karat, silver chained, diamond tennis necklace. lori made up your face with her god-gifted hands as she went for the neutral base with a sultry smokey eye, and topping it off with a bold, ruby lip. mack had hooked your hair all the way up with a farrah fawcett type blowout, making your natural hair fluffy, wavy, light, and bouncy. with a thousand thank you’s, you paid them both handsomely for their services before you strutted into the limousine your parents sent in front of your place. when you entered the vehicle, you were somewhat relieved that they didn’t ride with you this time. the last thing you needed was your father’s perfectionistic lecture about your work/school life and your mother’s nagging about your personal life for the umpteenth time. during the quiet ride, you exchanged some friendly small talk with the driver and went over some important mental notes for this daunting task of a presentation. you were feeling that pain of anxiety within your stomach again, but it’s dissolved by the memory of nicholas’ focused eye contact when he kissed your hand the other night. that thought alone gave you a sense of relief, yet longing. what if valerie was right? if the chavez family were to be in attendance, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you bumped into nicholas. in his presence, would you be a little stammering fool? perhaps a kind, sophisticated young socialite? maybe even a raging, spoiled brat that was pissed that he didn’t even bother to call you over the past week? anywho, you’ve got bigger fish to fry when the limousine finally pulls up to the valet station of the golden-lit venue where the gala was being held. here goes something.

after the driver politely escorts you out of the vehicle, the clicking of your heels resound as your feet hit the pavement. there was no time to gaze at the shimmering golden lights of the venue. there was no time to speculate who’s who and who they’re wearing this evening. hell, there wasn’t even time to think. you needed to focus on the goal at hand: check in, find your parents, and get this shit over with. two fine dressed middle-aged women sat at the check-in table. they briefly eye your figure in awe as you approach them before they ask for your name.

“l/n. y/n l/n.” you straightforwardly uttered, your eyes darted everywhere for any glimpse of your parents. the women nod, confirming your name on the extensive guest list. you courtly nod and mutter a soft “thank you” before you hastily turned around only to clash with a tall, burly figure. you’d figured that with the combination of the impact and the height of your heels, you were surely going to fall flat on your face in front of all these people, but, oh so gracefully, both of the stranger’s arms managed to prevent the incident.

“you need to be more careful next time. i’d hate to see you get hurt.” your ears instantly perk up at the sound of his familiar voice. his arms kept you steady as you held yourself upright to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating again. the tempo of your heart rate increased when your brown eyes locked with his. nicholas’ gaze softened from concern to instant realization once he registered that it was indeed you, y/n l/n, the eccentric best friend of cooper’s new girlfriend, valerie hill. he was actually trying to locate cooper for them to be seated, but fate had other plans of having you two cross paths again. after your first encounter, you were certainly a woman he couldn’t forget about even if he tried. a pleasant grin, more like a simper curved on his pink lips causing your face to rise with the heat of embarrassment.

“long time, no see, y/n. it’s definitely a pleasure to see you again.” he greets with his large hands still grasping onto your forearms. you thanked the stars for the opera gloves or he’d be sure to feel the goosebumps rise on your skin. with a nervous chuckle, you slowly pulled out of his grip to smooth your dress out. you didn’t want to give the paparazzi, or worse, your parents the wrong idea. you promptly composed yourself.

“i guess it isn’t so bad to see you again, nicholas.” you mentioned, in a saucy manner. your stomach flipped again when you hear a chuckle escape from the male in front of you.

“some things i like about you that isn’t so bad is your consistency of your fluent sarcasm—and that you look captivating as always.” he teases all while bashfully stuffing his hands in his pockets. you thought that you were hallucinating again because there’s no way in hell that you witnessed his cheeks flutter with crimson in your presence.

“captivating, huh? if you really thought that about me, you would’ve at least tried to call, nicholas.” you argued, with crossed arms under your chest.

“y/n, i—” nicholas was promptly cut off by the sound of another male voice that held much more weight than his own calling your name. nicholas observed as your face shifted from irritated to an expression of dread as you let out a sigh of lament. nicholas could’ve sworn that you were a hell of an actress from how quickly your facial expressions changed again when you turned around to cordially greet the older man that strode in your direction. he saw him on the news, interviews, and press conferences. this man was none other than your father, f/n l/n. the muscles of your shoulders tense under his palm.

“hello, father.” you meekly utter with a nod of your head.

“come now, y/n. it’s time we find our table, your mother is waiting and there’s certainly no time for irrelevant chatter. you’ve had all day to engage in the like.” his baritone voice commanded with a monotonous, cold tone.

“yes, sir.” you complied without another word to nicholas and started to follow after your dad before his voice halted you both.

“uh, mr. l/n, sir. i hope you don’t think me rude. i’m nicholas alexander chavez, my father’s the founder of one of the top law firms in the nation. it’s nice to meet you. i, uh, happen to be a friend of your daughter’s, who i believe would excel as the future of your brand.” nicholas holds out his steady hand for which your father shakes briefly.

“likewise, mr. chavez. i look forward to connecting with you and your family in the near future, but we must get going.” your father politely urges before his grip shifts from your shoulder to your wrist to subtly haul you away from nicholas to the table reserved for your family and the close associates of the business. you sit in between your parents as dinner is about to be served. you dare not to forget the etiquette that’s been installed in you as you focus on engaging in polite, business conversation more than indulging in each course of food. great. now you were flustered, frustrated, humiliated, and hungry. while your mother was droning about the dress you were wearing, your hand reached to sip on the wine that was served. you peered down then up again to see those familiar coffee eyes that’s been haunting your fantasies all week peering back into yours as he simultaneously takes a sip from his own drink at the table adjacent to yours. nicholas was accompanied by what seemed to be his parents and about three siblings. you were still thinking about how he sort of stood up for you in front of your dad. it wasn’t as assertive as when he did it with you, but he could obviously tell that you were uncomfortable in your father’s presence. you found it to be quite noble after you were about to rip into him again.

the emcee’s finger taps the mic thrice before his voice reverberates throughout the room causing everyone to fall silent. he announces the program order that’s listed on the bulletin. fuck, you didn’t even get a glimpse of it. out of the corner of your eye, you see that you’re the very last to present and perform. it was utter bullshit, but it bought you some time to mentally compose yourself—or freak out. the first presenter was the son of a politician and his views on what the environment could look like in thirty years if certain things didn’t change. as he went into his ten-point plan, you gazed over to nicholas who appeared to be interested in what the yuppie had to say. taking this opportunity to ogle him, he was fitted in a two-piece black giorgio armani suit and tie. you’d know that suit from anywhere because you got the same one for your father on his birthday. nicholas looked very handsome and lawyer-ish. you even notice the outline of his jacked build underneath the layers. his chocolate tresses fell naturally upon his head , giving you the urge to know what it feels like when ruffled, pushed back,—or pulled on. your crossed thighs instinctively clenched and you chided yourself for having those thoughts of him again. it doesn’t help that he’s in the same room and sitting a couple feet away.

throughout the next few presentations, your focus is shifting all over the damn place. from the presenter, to nicholas, and to your own mental notes. that pit within your stomach would hurt then dissolve within seconds, it was making you a bit lightheaded and you needed some air. only three more people were presenting before you, so you leaned over to your mother and whispered that you had to be excused to the restroom. she gives you a quick once over to say “hurry up!” and you do so without question. you weren’t really going to the bathroom though, what a lot of people didn’t know was that this venue had a staircase that led to a secluded garden. this was your sacred little spot for the last two galas you’ve attended. fortunately it’s in the same direction of the restrooms, but instead of making a right, you keep journeying all the way down the golden corridors until you see the concrete staircase surrounded by the white marble railing. your hands grasp onto your dress, so you won’t fall as you descend onto each step to find the streaming stone fountain. you let out a breath that you’ve been holding and take your seat on the edge. all of the muscles within your body loosen at the sound of the bubbling waterfall, the sight of the pale moonlit sky, and the sweet scents of the array of flora and fauna fill your senses. your dark, watery eyes peer down at your own weary reflection that was then joined by the concerned reflection of none other than nicholas chavez. you could’ve sworn you were hallucinating again, but once your head turned to debunk your theory, you hastily stood up with a frightened yet angry expression etched on your face. why is he always in every corner of your life? sometimes you wish you’d never cross paths with nicholas chavez, but why were you a bit relieved at his presence?

“nicholas? what the in hell—what are you doing here? did you follow me? i swear to god if you told my father—” you accused, your voice raising a bit before he cut you off by placing one of his hands on your shoulder and a finger against your lip, so that you wouldn’t draw attention.

“shh, shh. when you keep your voice down, i’ll be happy to explain everything, so unless you want someone to find us, you’d do as i say. are we clear, y/n?” he whispered with a hint of urgency, but you could still hear that dominating tone from your last encounter. just like he put you under a spell, you deliberately nodded and he took his finger from your lip along with his hand away from your shoulder. god, how you already missed his touch. there was beat of silence before he softly spoke again,

“i happened to look over to your table to just—see if you were alright after what happened with your old man. i’ve actually looked over there a couple times, but i saw you leave, so i told my dad that i had to use the restroom and that’s when i saw you leave down the hall, down the stairs, and here we are in this garden.” nicholas concluded as his eyes took a brief perusal of the place.

“it looked like you wanted to get away.” he confirmed as you watched him saunter past you to sit beside your empty space on the fountain’s edge. he loosened his tie at the top before leaning over to rest his elbows upon his knees.

“yeah—i did.” you try your best to not let yourself crack under pressure in front of him.

“if you’re comfortable enough, would you want to sit, so you could talk it out?” his questioned with such a soft, coaxing voice. it was like you were under a spell again and his sincere, tawny gaze didn’t pull away as he watched you slowly roam towards the edge and sit in your previous position beside him. no one else besides valerie had really given you the chance to speak out about the true feelings you’ve been bottling up and so you did. nicholas attentively listened as you spoke about how frightened you were of failing the empire that your family worked so hard for. you were grateful for all the luxuries provided, but it was the pressure to be this perfect daughter that was getting to your head, you felt like you were going crazy.

“i’m not even sure that i’m cut out to be the next ceo, nicholas. let alone do this goddamn presentation because everyone is expecting me to royally fuck up. i—huh?” your word vomit ceased when a pillow soft handkerchief touched your skin. with a light hand, nicholas gingerly dabbed away the tears that fell on your face. you sniffled and whispered a soft praise of gratitude for the gesture. nicholas plants the cloth within your hands before concealing them with his own.

“hey, look at me.”

you did as you were told, it was now your turn to do the listening.

“remember what i said to your father earlier? that wasn’t just to ease the tension. i meant what i said about you back there.”

you just sat there stunned as you stared at the man before you while your brain registered his statement. the skin of your cheeks heated when you see that reassuring simper on his face.

“so now you know that it’s not everyone who’s expecting you to fail. you’ve been raised in this life, so who the hell can tell you that weren’t cut out for this? they’re only putting pressure on something they know will come out with greatness and greatness is in your blood, so fuck ‘em!” he exclaims, a beaming smile grows on his face when you erupted in giggles.

“it’s good to hear you laugh.” nicholas stated, he peers at you with sincerity and his hand lightly brushed a piece of your hair from your face.

“did i say that you looked beautiful tonight?” he teased with that smug face.

“hey! don’t try to get fresh, chavez.” you playfully retort, thanking him anyway before your chuckles fill the air again. the wings of your heart rapidly flutter, but they’re instantly clipped during mid-flight. it made you feel so damn guilty that nicholas took time away from his family, hell from networking to go and find you moping in a garden. you had to let him know this one thing before you two depart from each other,

“nicholas, i apologize.” you confessed. your eyes were still damp as they locked with his baffled, furrowed face.

“i’m not following, y/n. what are you apologizing for?”

“i’m sorry for being such a horrible person towards you. nicholas, all you’ve ever done is be a gentleman to me. hell, you even tried to make me seem like i’m worth a damn to my father…” you trail off, to look up into the sky not letting a single teardrop fall again. you were sure that the handkerchief you received was pure egyptian cotton and you didn’t want to ruin it any further.

“heh…and all i did was give you shit about not calling me. it’s so petty.” you dryly scoff at yourself and shake your head.

right, it stung him a bit in the gut once you’ve mentioned it. he was going to make sure tonight that you got an honest explanation on why that didn’t occur,

“y/n, the reason i—”

you interrupted him by standing up hastily. you realized that so much time had passed and that it was getting close to announce your presentation. fuck! you wanted to hear what nicholas had to say.

“nicholas! i gotta go. my presentation will start soon.”

“shit! right. i’ll let you go in first and i’ll come in a little bit afterwards.” he affirmed and stood up after you.

before you take a another step up the staircase, you look down at the ivory cloth in your hand. fortunately, you brought your gucci black clutch outside with you. you reach a gloved hand inside to retrieve your trusty, green fountain pen. nicholas stood there confused as to why you hadn’t made haste towards the venue. you were quickly writing something on the cloth. once you’ve stamped it with the red marked kiss of your lipstick, you scurried to him and placed the folded handkerchief within his palms.

“you’re gonna need this more than i do, you big softie. thank you for everything.” you utter one last time before you quickly venture up the stairs with a new air of confidence for when you give your all during your presentation. you were going to show those motherfucking critics what you and your family were capable of. all thanks to the thought of him.

nicholas’ gaze lingered on your figure as you disappeared up the stairs and into the hallway. as he waited to appropriately arrive back to the gala, he peered down at the folded cloth. his fingers gingerly unravel it to reveal the graceful and precise calligraphy of your phone number. his heart raced within his chest when he caught a glimpse of your lovely stamp. his thumb glided along the ruby mark of a truce where your lips touched. oh, if he could feel your lips on his just this once, but he knew that with you, this thing between you had to simmer or you’d both would horribly burn. anywho, the first step was to definitely call you afterwards to give his congratulations, an explanation, and possibly more, whenever you’re ready.

[lyle-and-erik-menendez]

The Filtered Truth

What is truth? And how is the truth filtered through our post truth lens? This is something that I’ve been wrestling with, since I saw Ryan Murphy’s latest iteration of Monsters. Monsters is supposed to explore the worst of our society, it supposed to shine a light on the people that society allows to lurk in the shadows. Since its announcement in early 2023, there was must speculation about the tone of Ryan Murphy’s latest offering. The first trailer, released on the 35th anniversary of the murders, showed two shadowy figures entering a house. The stage was set for a glossy adaptation of the Menendez Brothers, that would hopefully vindicate them after decades of public scrutiny. That was not to be, as the subsequent trailers and series showed. Murphy isn’t interested in the truth, nor is he interested in a tonal truth. What he is interested in the exploitation of abuse victims and more broadly and culturally is the re-victimization of the Menendez brothers in a culture that doesn’t allow for their autonomy. Let me pose this question, why are the Menendez brothers after 34 years in prison, why are they playing nice by the very culture and industry that keeps exploiting them?

Ryan Murphy has stated that this season of Monsters would take on a Rashomon style. Rashomon (1950), is a film by Akira Kurosawa that explores the different perspectives of a crime. Murphy states, “The show has a Rashomon approach where it talks about countless perspectives, and a perspective is not a lie. A perspective is an opinion, and the show has an obligation to all of those opinions, including the parents, including the lawyers … on and on and on.” There is only slight problem here, Murphy doesn’t know what Rashomon is. In the film, the audience knows whose perspective they are seeing, so they can clearly distinguish whose narrative they’re seeing. In Monsters, the narrative structure is so confusing and convoluted that the perspective is lost.

The show isn’t a social commentary, it’s not dealing with the case from a post-modern lens. It’s not deconstructing the narrative of the Menendez murders, it is presenting something that is far more pervasive and far more sinister. It is taking real people, real events and twisting and bastardizing into something that is unrecognizable. A grotesque caricature of reality. Art is allowed to break the rules, and film by its very nature presents an artifice of real life, that’s the agreement that we all know. However if your aim is to tell different perspectives, then you have a duty and obligation to present those perspectives. Monsters should have deconstructed Lyle and Erik Menendez, from the prosecution perspective, the defense, the media, their parents, and finally present their version of events. In that way, it would have been a commentary about not only the murders, but the flaw of bias.  

The first poster for Monsters, shows the actors, Nicholas Alexander Chavez and Cooper Koch, both naked looking suggestively to the camera. The subsequent trailers do have an undercurrent of incest, not with Jose or Kitty, but with the brothers. This sexual exploitation of the brothers plays a pivotal role in the show, the men are seen in various states of undress, often in shower scenes or by the pool. And the audience is allowed to look at the look at the men in this sexualised way. In fact, the show gives us permission to sexualise these men. Murphy employs the male gaze when looking at these men, we don’t feel uncomfortable because of their exploitation, we’re part of it. To present a fully nude Erik Menendez in prison, participating willingly in a sexual act in the shower of all places, is in particular poor taste given that Erik was a victim of sexual abuse. In the show there are lingering shots of the male body, which further objectifies the brothers and dehumanizes them. It is interesting that Murphy never films the brothers from the perspective of their father, who viewed them as objects that they owned.

Monsters also overtly suggests that Kitty and Jose were ‘misunderstood’, and in their episode, Don’t Dream It’s Over, he explores their relationship. Well, he attempts to explore their relationship, albeit in a very shallow way. Instead of delving into the psyche of two child abusers, we are made to feel empathy for Kitty and Jose. There is even a clunky expositional scene of Jose’s own trauma. What are we supposed to get from that scene? That Jose couldn’t help it. It feels almost victim blaming in its intention. Murphy also puts in a scene where Jose is terrorizing a male sex worker, an obvious substitute for Erik. But that never happened, and completely negates Jose’s abuse dynamic. Jose wasn’t terrorizing his son’s because he was in the closet, Jose was a sexual sadist who got off on complete control and power. The show didn’t even touch Jose molesting members of Menudo, one of whom has come forward. It’s not like I want to see women abused, but a brothel owner did say that he was cruel to female prostitutes. Jose derived power from the complete subjugation and humiliation of another. Monsters completely ignores that dynamic, and the twisted relationship between father and sons. For all the overt nudity in the show, why didn’t Murphy put in a scene of the father and sons in shower?

The episode also paints Erik and Lyle as ‘bad seeds’ that Kitty and Joe must deal with, but the show never explores the cycle of abuse. There is plenty of testimony in the trial, that would have made a fascinating episode and given Murphy’s background in the horror genre could have made for an intense and gripping episode. The show never explores the physical, emotional and sexual abuse that Lyle experienced from him mother. Also why did they age up Lyle’s hair loss? Why did the show not even mention the sexual abuse that Lyle endured at the hands of his mother? Which makes me question, why even hire Chloe Sevigny if you’re not going to go there? Jose is never presented as menacing, really all he does is yell. Real fear comes in the silence, the unpredictable. There is something to be said by Murphy’s deliberate whitewashing of Kitty and Jose considering he stated that he was using the Rashomon method. Given the testimony of countless relatives, teachers, coaches and the boys themselves, there could have been a real exploration about what makes a monster.

Lyle Menendez deserves to be the angriest about his portrayal in this series. To reduce a person who has very complex motivations and emotions to a stereotype of the worst qualities of a John Hughes character. Why did Ryan Murphy decide to completely assassinate Lyle’s character? Lyle Menendez could have left, he could have started a new life at Princeton, but he didn’t. Why? Because he couldn’t do that in good conscious knowing what, what was happening to his brother. Lyle has been the punching bag for the mainstream media, he’s the brother who is constantly maligned the most and this show is no exception.

There is also a clear divide in the way that both brothers are treated on this show. Erik gets his bottle episode where is allowed to be vulnerable and raw, at the expense of Lyle. But Lyle doesn’t get that episode. Even in episode 4, that is his episode, all his trauma and life experience is undermined by his characterization. There is a constant reinforcing by Murphy that Lyle is lying, that he’s playing the jury. In Kill or Be Killed there is an attempt to go into Lyle’s psyche, the episode undermines the protagonist’s experience while suggesting that Lyle is faking his emotions. Whereas, in Erik’s episode, the much lauded The Hurt Man, Erik is allowed the safe space to reveal his abuse to a willing party which is Leslie Abramson. The episode is only effective because it’s treated like a therapy session, it revels in the silence. Leslie Abramson even jokes about just adopting Erik, Jill Lansing refers to Lyle as a psychopath. Even after Lyle cries, he is able to compose himself because the tears aren't real. A far cry from the real testimony. Erik is allowed to be vulnerable; we’re allowed to feel empathy for him. Why is this grace given to Lyle? Is it because he took action, that led to the murder of his parents? Did Murphy think that an audience would sympathize too much with abuse victims? It’s clear that Murphy doesn’t believe the brothers, or least Lyle given his statements.

The show opens with the brothers going to the memorial service, and this episode is apparently from Dr Oziel’s perspective. This is where the Rashomon method gets clunky, because Murphy tells the audience this, we’re supposed to assume whose perspective it is. However, how is the audience to know if they’re not familiar with this case? The episode starts with Lyle acting like the worst stereotype of every 80s frat boy, being completely obnoxious. They even do the lie about Lyle wearing Jose’s shoes to the memorial, he wasn’t. Our boy was wearing cowboy boots. There is a lot to deconstruct about Lyle Menendez, and it could have been done. But you can deconstruct a character, if you never construct that character to begin with. Monsters never allows the audience to see behind the bravado, we don’t get to witness Lyle’s intense insecurity. Murphy could have explored masculinity and what meant to him. Everything is played for melodrama.

Melodrama has does have its place in this story, and often horror and comedy go hand in hand. It would be difficult to portray this story without leaning into tropes. To take the audience behind the façade of wealth, to juxtapose trauma with the gaudiness of late 80s LA makes for some wonderful exposition. Murphy loves the glamour of the 80s and 90s, but he never wants to explore what is behind the curtain. The toupee scene could have been played for melodrama, much like too often parodied ‘No more wire hangers’ scene in Mommy Dearest. Why do I use this example? Because that scene, despite its camp overtones is a complete horror scene. The façade of the glamour has been lost, and what we’re left with is fear. That is the same element when Kitty rips off Lyle’s toupee, even in its description it seems ridiculous. But it isn’t, it’s horrific, a mother reveling in her son’s humiliation, but playing the scene straight the audience would have been able to see the literal ripping apart of the family. Murphy doesn’t seem to want to even explore toxic women, or any women beyond some shallow girl boss tropes.

The media played such a pivotal role in the case, it doesn’t make sense of the show to not explore that aspect of perception. We get countless Dominick Dunne dinner party scenes which give the audience his narrative but why did Ryan Murphy decide to cut out Robert Rand? Rand is the perfect foil for Dunne, and from Rand we could have gotten a more nuanced perspective of the brothers. Well, Lyle in particular, it seems like Murphy likes Erik Menendez which is why Lyle is sacrificed at Erik’s alter throughout the entire show. Erik is allowed to have an episode with pathos, even though once again, Murphy goes out of his way to state that Lyle molested Erik. Lyle did molest Erik, as a child, but the way it’s spoken about on the show makes it seem akin to Jose’s abuse of his sons. The show never acknowledges just how much media narratives played a part in this case.

In the second last episode, Lyle is excitedly talking about movie rights. Which he did speak to Norma Novelli about, having the rights to their own story. And given how Monsters treated him, he did have a point. The brothers knew just how reviled they were by the mainstream media; they were caricatures and parodies. So why would Lyle make light of an SNL skit that basically made fun of his testimony, a testimony that he didn’t even want to give for that reason. That’s where this show falls, because it constantly makes these self-reflexive remarks without thinking of the context. Lyle had just told the world that he was molested by his parents, it was very emotionally draining for him. Why then, would he have the opinion that they were loved? It makes zero sense in the context of the story. The reason why we’re able to have the conversation about trauma and abuse, is due to how much more open we are now about those subjects. In 1993, Pam Bozanich was telling people that men don’t have the equipment to get raped.

The truth is subjective, but Murphy did have able opportunities to play around with different perspectives in this case. A trial is all about perspectives and crafting a narrative. It is the perfect backdrop for the Rashomon style. It would have interesting to have that as the angle, rather than the uncanny valley retelling of the trial. The actors simply didn’t emote the raw emotion of the brothers during their testimony. But not only that, Murphy could have delved into memory and how two people can experience the same event and still have different perceptions and understandings of it. Instead, we get Lyle furious at Erik for making a mistake, which isn’t something that bears any credence to their relationship.

Monsters also never delves into the bond that the brothers had, not in an emotional way. Although Murphy is more than willing to entertain the incest rumours between the brothers. In episode two we get the brothers kiss, and the suggestively gyrating on each other. These are the kind of incidents is what Murphy is interested in, the suggestive, sensual taboo. He’s not interested in the child abuse, the trauma, how people cope with that trauma. That isn’t sexy. Murphy also plays up the trauma for slapstick comedy when Erik falls with a Popsicle in his mouth. Which is something that happened when he was 7 btw, not an adult. Lyle’s 17 page letter where he’s basically begging Erik for silence is also played for comedy. It all shows that Murphy does not take this subject seriously, the show is about his own gaze at two physically attractive young men. The audience doesn’t see the bond between the brothers, because this isn’t a story about LA excess, it is a story about love. It is a story about the bond between brothers, that unshakable bond that made Lyle Menendez defend his brother. That’s the story here.

The final scene on the boat, proves that Ryan Murphy wasn’t using the Rashomon method, but he was constructing his own history. The series ends with Kitty and Jose in some sort of wedded bliss looking over at their sons as the sons plan their demise. The end basically implies that Lyle and Erik overacted and were paranoid. This alone proves that Murphy wasn’t interested in the truth at all. Considering the boat captain was a prosecution witness and testified to the tense atmosphere. Kitty was seasick, so she wasn’t even with Jose. And the brothers were huddled together at the front of the boat. It was a tense experience all around. But to sum up the murders as a ‘mistake’, makes the brothers complicit and proves the prosecution narrative that they were making up the abuse. Once again, Murphy undermines the brothers, which is something that he’s been doing since episode 1.

What is truth? We all have our own version of it, it is subjective to our life experience. We will never know the actual truth of the Menendez Murders, and by that, I mean memories are funny, they can evolve and change over time. So, we will never have a completely fact driven narrative of that night. What do have? We have paranoia, we have fear, we have sleep deprivation and lifetime of abuse culminating in this one night. This story has the potential to be explored in a meaningful and interesting way that respects the people involved. But you cannot deconstruct a narrative, if the construction that you’ve presented in poorly thought out. Monsters is poorly written, it’s poorly acted, overacted and relies far too heavily on montage. Perhaps it is a story for our age, a story of instant gratification over nuanced portrayals. Perhaps Monsters is a mirror to what we accept as entertainment, a pantomime of reality given to us under the guise of prestige television. We created the Monsters that were the Menendez brothers, so it’s right that we’ve ended up with the Frankenstein’s monster.

[morganwrites12672]

No More Lies

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Sam runs into an old classmate while working a case (S2E2 "Everybody Loves a Clown")

Rating: PG-13

A/N: I had two comments requesting something with Sam, so, here it is! Don't forget, my request box is open!

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It had been over a year since Y/n had last seen an old friend of hers, Sam Winchester. He had left Stanford completely after Jessica had died in a fire. The entire situation had shocked all of their mutual friends. Nobody could believe that he had really just left. Yet, everyone did. Eventually, people stopped calling him.

Y/n might have stopped calling, but she didn't believe that Sam had left for no reason other than Jessica's death. The way his voice sounded whenever she did get him to pick up the phone. . . Something was off. Over the months, Sam picked up the phone less and less. She had almost given up hope. Hell, she practically had. If Sam wanted to talk to her, he would have called.

It was a fair weathered morning in Medford, Wisconsin. She had graduated from Stanford, and was finally free to do whatever she wanted. After how overwhelming college had been, she was taking a gap year. Spending it in her hometown seemed like the best option.

She was strolling through the Cooper Carnival whenever she saw him.

"What the hell?" She muttered to herself, waking through the crowd. It was Sam. He was wearing one of the red jackets of the other carnival employees. She couldn't hide the shock on her face. He left Stanford to join a carnival? Something definitely wasn't right.

"Sam!" She said as she approached him. She saw the shock on his face as he realized who she was.

"Y/n?" Sam said, his eyes wide. "What are you- oh shit. Your parents live here," He said, finally realizing why you were here. She saw him quickly glance around, almost like he was figuring out what to do.

"You joined a carnival?" She said, but it came out like a question. Nothing made sense to her right now.

Sam groaned, running a hand through his hair. She noticed he had grown it out more than usual. Y/n couldn't stop staring at him. What the hell was going on? It didn't make sense. Sam had wanted to be a lawyer. He was doing great at Stanford, pre-law. Why would he dropout and join a carnival, of all things?

"I. . . I don't know how the hell to explain this," He said with a sigh. Sam had wanted to tell Y/n the truth for a while. He had stopped answering her calls because he couldn't stand the guilt of lying to her. He had to now though. He knew she took smart to believe any bullshit excuse he could come up with.

"No more lies," She said firmly. It was obvious that Sam wasn't just on a trip with his brother. Last time she had heard from him, he was still enjoying the road trip. However, she had always heard the tension in his voice. She had always known something was wrong. She had never been what though.

"I can't tell you here."

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Her mouth hung open as she processed what Sam had just explained to her. He hadn't left Stanford because of the grief of Jess's death. No, he had left Stanford to find the demon that had killed her. She closed her mouth, but she was still unable to speak.

"I know that's a lot to take in. . ." Sam said gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. He had had no choice but to explain everything. Any excuse he could come up with, well he knew Y/n would have seen right through it. He had lied to her enough. She was the last person from Stanford he still had the option to be friends with anymore. He had burned too many bridges.

"Holy shit," She said under her breath, standing up. This was definitely a lot to take in. "And you're in my hometown, where my family lives, on a case?" She asked, now it wasn't shock so much as fear that she felt.

Sam nodded grimly, "Dean and I are trying to figure out what's behind the disapearences."

"I'm helping," She blurted out.

"No. Don't even think about it," Sam said more sternly. He knew once she set her mind to something that there was no stopping her. She had always been determined like that.

"My family could be in danger!" She exclaimed. "Either we do it together, or I'll be an idiot and do it solo," She threatened.

Sam mumbled a curse. Dean was going to be furious. But, he had no other choice. He didn't trust Y/n to behave herself. She would do something stupid, and then he would have to try and save her. Since the only lead this case had was the Carnival, he begrudgingly agreed to let her help. He would be able to keep her safe if she was with him. Plus, a local would be nice to have on their side.

Dean would be furious whenever he came back to the motel and found Sam and Y/n going through Sam's research. Sam had done the best he could on such short notice to explain the Supernatural. Y/n swore that after this case she would be done. She just wanted to make sure her family stayed safe.

That couldn't have been further from the truth.

Now that she knew what went bump in the night, she couldn't rest. Sam had been pissed whenever she outright refused to go back to normal. He tried endlessly to convince her otherwise. His words did nothing to change her mind. This was her life now. Helping the brothers gank monsters, even if it had taken a while for Sam to let her leave the motel room on hunts.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! Also, my requests are currently open!

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

There's things I am understand from Tony Stans when they write 'Steve mistake ',

1. They will using reason Steven choose bucky over tony

2. Steve hide / lie the fact about tony parents death

3. Steven is not read accord and not make negotiations about accord

4. Steve recruit clint, sama and wanda and make them in raft. So it's steve mistake

From the four point the third point is bothering me. I am not gonna lie I kind forget the detail civil war but, steve did and the only one that read accord. Also if I am not wrong Ross didn't give chance go steve and everyone to negotiations about accord at all, I meant he said avenegrs onel have three days accept or retired. I menat what kind f&** is that. They have no time to negotiations about accord at all

And Tony said the can make negotiations after they sign the paper, that not how work. You can't make negotiations after to signed the papers, the UN won't considered that they want control, you signed you follow what is inside

So I think it's was weord they blame steve no want negotiations at all. Because there's no time for that, also Steven considered the accord if they for innocent protection and not for government to controlling innocent peoples. So why they keep point that?

I think they need to come up with excuses, half-truths and lies because no matter how hard the Russos tried to paint both teams as equally right, Team Cap is the only one in the right.

To your first point, Steve is against the Accords way before Bucky is even in the picture.

This is something that not only the haters but many fans seem to forget: Not everything Steve does has to do with Bucky. He has a separate life and a mind of his own, and those Accords go against everything that makes him who he is.

To your second point, Steve had no way of knowing Bucky had murdered the Starks. Zola said this:

Zola: "For 70 years, HYDRA has been secretly feeding crises, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed." Natasha: "That's impossible. S.H.I.E.L.D. would've stopped you." Zola: "Accidents will happen."

And this was shown:

This required Steve to assume Bucky had been the only Winter Soldier at the hands of Hydra. He could have guessed but he didn't know for sure. And going to Stark to tell him "I found out your parents were murdered but I'm not sure of what happened", over 20 years after the fact is not exactly ideal. Not to mention Stark had hacked Shield's systems two years prior. He didn't exactly do a good job of digging there, and Steve and he weren't that close.

To your third point, whoever says that is lying. Steve is the only one shown reading the Accords:

My man has perfect memory. He knew very well those Accords were an abomination.

And to your last point, Sam, Clint and Wanda have agency and they knew what they were getting into before they went to the airport. Unlike Peter Parker who was lied to by Stark, Steve was very clear that he wanted his team to know who and why they were fighting, and the consequences of doing so. Even with a stranger like Scott:

They chose to follow Steve because they knew it was the right thing to do. Clint left his family, Wanda risked her life and her freedom, so did Scott, Bucky and Sam. All of them followed and did the right thing because they're heroes, it's what they do.

Ross knew very well what he was doing. As Secretary of State, not only did he keep the Accords under wraps until only three days before the UN meeting, he kept from the entire team that an Accord is not the same as a law and it was a constitutional violation to try and enforce it on the team and the citizens.

They had no time to negotiate. They would have needed to lawyer up and do everything in a short period of time: the meeting was in Vienna and they were in NYC, if you count the time it would have taken them to get there, the time they needed to find a lawyer they trusted to go through the whole thing and come up with a good enough case to stand up not only to the US Senate but the UN… yep, they had no time to do so. That was Ross' plan all along.

Stark telling Steve the Accords could be amended after he signed them was no more than an attempt at manipulation. There is something important to keep in mind here: Stark would NOT be affected by these Accords at all. As shown in the movie, he broke them when he flew to Siberia and nothing happened. Ross called him and he put him on hold, and nothing happened.

Stark is used to doing whatever the hell he wants (like basically telling the government to suck it when he refused to give them his suits. What happened to him? Nothing) and facing no consequences whatsoever. So in his mind, signing these papers means nothing, he can break them whenever he feels like it and he'll find a way to get away with it. For Steve and Wanda, the Accords were a direct violation of their civil rights. It's not the same.

Steve was never against accountability. The Accords were:

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Do you know of any fics where Blaine makes his feelings for Kurt obvious but Kurt just denies him until finally he gives in

These are some selected by @hkvoyage from a previous ask about Kurt playing hard to get:

Clashby AntarcticBird

Blaine is a sexual free spirit with a bit of a reputation, Kurt doesn’t do casual. It should be impossible, and yet Blaine just cannot stop thinking about him. Written for this gkm prompt.

Note: You need to be logged in to AO3 to access this fic.

~~~~~

Dirt On Your Name by sabbypandawan

Blaine Anderson is NYU’s most notorious lothario. Everyone knows his name, and people either warn each other off him or vie for his attention. So when he meets Kurt Hummel at a party their dorm is hosting for the newly moved-in freshmen, he expects either rejection or, more likely, approval – and gets so much more than he ever would have guessed, and had definitely never hoped for.

~~~~~

Collide by @scatter-the-stars  

Kurt Hummel is having a terrible week. On top of his car breaking down and his laptop dying at the worst time possible, finding his boyfriend cheating on him is the final straw against the camel’s back. A night of drinking is much deserved. But waking up in bed with star quarterback Blaine Anderson is something he doesn’t need. Determined to forget it and move on, he finds that hard when Blaine has other ideas. At first wanting nothing to do with the biggest playboy on campus, somehow Kurt finds himself agreeing to being friends with Blaine. It’s a friendship that opens his eyes to the guy he never really knew. And soon finds him wanting the one person he maybe shouldn’t want.

~~~~~

Life Less Ordinaryby Dizzy and @savvymavvy

Blaine’s life is privileged, fantastic, and entirely routine until he changes things up and tries out a new coffee shop, where one struggling NYADA student named Kurt Hummel happens to work.

~~~~~

In the Town of Lima, Ohio by crowned queen of bitchland [ePub and PDF]

After the loss of his parents Kurt is left to raise his baby brother all by himself. Closed off, guarded and inexperienced, he shies away from the advances of a certain curly-haired lawyer who falls desperately in love with him. Will he let Blaine in, or will his walls keep him away? Read and find out :)

~~~~~

One and Only by theoreoqueen

Kurt is a single father who is struggling to get by. Blaine is one of the wealthiest men in New York City who has life handed to him on a silver platter. It has to be nothing less than fate when their two worlds collide.

Sequel: Stars and Moon (not completed)

~~~~~

And some others:

It’s Not Babysitting by anxioussquirrel

AU, present time. Kurt Hummel is 28 and has been living in New York for ten years now. He has a good job, nice apartment and two best friends anyone could wish for: Sebastian, a snarky lawyer, and Cooper, a workaholic investment specialist. What he doesn’t have is luck in relationships. But then Blaine, Cooper’s 17-year-old brother comes to NY to spend the summer. He turns out to be gorgeous and quickly develops a huge crush on Kurt…

~~~~~

Scholars and Gentlemen by Mary Flanner[PDF] [Epub]

What if Blaine fell for Kurt first?

~~~~~

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - A Quiet Afternoon

The Tower - A Quiet Afternoon

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1805

Warnings:  none

Synopsis:  Hulk and Elly spend a quiet afternoon exploring the forest with the twins.

Author’s Note: Requested by SabrinaAlexis29 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too.

A Quiet Afternoon

Takes place between Unexpected and The Queen of Asgard.

It was one of those perfect fall days, a pleasant cool on the tail end of a sticky and uncomfortable summer, but not yet cold.  The Avengers Compound was the perfect place to experience fall.  Almost every tree had turned shades of yellow, red, and orange, making the forest's canopy surrounding the base look like it had been set on fire.

I was making the most of the day, playing outside in the garden with the twins.  Pietro and Riley were two and toddling about everywhere.  It was amazing how similar the two children were considering they had different fathers.  Both had wispy blonde hair and clear blue eyes and were about the same height and stature.

Riley was the louder and more precocious of the twins. She had no problem making herself heard when she wanted attention, and we had to keep an eagle eye on her because if she got out of sight for a second, she would get into something she shouldn’t.  With Riley, you had to worry when she suddenly went quiet.

Pietro was the opposite.  He was quiet and sensitive.  He loved cuddling up to his parents, being read to, and being carried around so he could ask what everything was.  His first words were; ‘What’s that?’  With Pietro, you knew he was in trouble when he got very loud.

So far, they both seemed to be happy and loving children.  If there were any negative effects to being raised by ten people - Avengers at that - they weren’t showing it yet.

I was sitting on the grass with them, blowing bubbles as the twins toddled around trying to catch them when there was a huge bang followed by a roar from the direction of the labs. Both the kids froze and we all looked in the direction of the sound.  A moment later the Hulk came crashing out of the canopy and landed on the lawns behind, sending a flock of birds flying out in a cloud behind him.

He kept running, bounding along in our direction looking wild and angry.  Something big must have just happened in the lab and set him off.

“Hulk!” I called.

“Hulg! Hulg!” the twins echoed.  Hulk screeched to a stop leaving large divots in the lawn.  He looked over at us with his head tilted and as soon as his gaze settled on us, his features softened.  “Babies!” he said, breaking out into a huge smile.

He jogged over to us, stepping over the fence into the backyard.  He crouched down as low as he could and the twins toddled over to him with their hands up, repeating the word ‘Hulg’ over and over.  When they reached him, he sat down and held his hand out for them to come and hug.

“What happened, Big Guy?” I asked, approaching him.  “What was that bang?”

“Fire,” he grumbled.  “Hulk burned.”

I furrowed my brow and looked him over.  He looked fine, but there was a chance Bruce got burned and that turning into Hulk healed it.  “That must have been scary.”

“Hulk not scared,” he huffed.  “Never scared.” 

The sound of thrusters caught my attention and I looked up again.  Tony flew over the top of the trees and arced down to us, stopping just out of Hulk’s and hovering in the air.  “Oh good,” he said, his voice a little tinny over the speakers of the Iron Man armor. “You got this, El?”

“Yeah, we’re good.  You blow something up?” I asked.

“Something blew up.  Whether it was me that caused said explosion will be up for the lawyers to decide,” he said.  “I better go clean up though.  DUM-E is terrible at that sort of thing.”  He turned to the kids and waved at them.  “Bye, kiddos. Love you.”

They both waved at him.  “Lub, lub!” they shouted.

He mimed blowing kisses to us all then shot off again, leaving the four of us alone.  I turned my attention back to Hulk.  “Shall I get out the harness so we can take a walk?” I asked.

He grinned at me. “Walk!”

The harness was something that Tony invented.  It was hard for the Hulk to physically interact with the children.  He was so big and they were so small, and dexterity was not one of Hulk’s strong suits.  So Tony had created a special harness to fit him that worked as a baby carrier for both children.  That way he was able to carry them both in front of him without risk of them wiggling out of his grip or him squashing them.

I left him alone with the kids for a moment while I ducked inside and grabbed the harness.  When I returned, Riley had managed to climb up on Hulk’s leg and Pietro was putting flowers on his hand.

It was a precious sight.  It was amazing to think that here was this guy - the personification of Bruce Banner’s rage and hurt that had been doled out to him by his father - a guy that many thought of as a monster, and he was as gentle as a lamb with his children.  People were always so quick to judge, and I felt like that judgment was part of what set the Hulk off.

I put the harness on Hulk and set the twins into their spots.  They clapped excitedly and began to wiggle.  “You all ready?” I asked.

“Go, go, go!” the kids squealed.

Hulk lifted me onto his shoulder and when I had a good hold of him, he took off at a jog.  The twins squealed and giggled as Hulk jumped over the fence and ran into the forest and down the side of the Hudson River.  Any time their laughter got particularly loud, it set Hulk off too and his deep booming laugh would echo through the trees.

I couldn’t stop smiling.  It had always been fun to be carried around by Hulk like this, but adding the laughter of Hulk and the twins to the mix, it was like chugging pure serotonin.

He jogged up the river’s edge for a while and when he reached the border of the compound, he turned and ran deeper into the forest, until we got to a clearing that we sometimes visited together.  There was a little waterfall and the kids loved watching the fish gathered in the pool at the bottom and collecting shiny pebbles.

Hulk stopped and set me down.  “Explore,” he said.

“Of course,” I agreed and got the twins down.

I supervised as the three began to walk around the area.  It was such a pure and wholesome sight watching Hulk with the kids.  He followed them around as they explored the area. Anytime one of them stopped to examine something, he’d crouch down low and look with them.  If they picked something up to show him, he would hum, nod, and make a comment.  ‘Pretty rock,’ ‘Cute bug,’ ‘Good flower.’.  Every time he did it they cooed and squeaked and then would toddle on to the next thing.  It was absolutely precious.

They stayed at it for quite a while, but the twins had been up for a bit and eventually, they both started yawning.  Hulk turned to me and furrowed his brow.  “Babies tired.  Bedtime.”

“I think you’re right.  We should head back home.”

I put the kids back in the sling and Hulk hauled me back on his shoulder.  The squeals and giggles started again, but they weren’t as full of energy as they had on the way out.

When we got back to the house they’d mostly gone quiet, and the four of us went into the main family bedroom and I took them out of the slings.

“Story?” Hulk asked.

“Sure.  Let me just change their diapers.  You want to get comfy?” I asked.

He curled up on the mattress, and I lay the twins down side-by-side and changed them.  They were so tired now that not even Riley put much effort into wiggling away on me.

When they were both changed, I grabbed one of their picture books and climbed up on the bed.  The twins lay down next to Hulk tucked under the blankets, and the Hulk put his head in my lap.

“Alright, let's see here,” I said.  “Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare’s very long ears…”

I read ‘Guess How Much I Love You’ to the trio, my fingers scratching back and forth through Hulk’s hair, massaging his scalp.  The twins were so tired that it was barely two pages in before Pietro fell asleep.  Halfway through Riley had stopped wiggling around and drifted off too.  I kept reading until the end, and Hulk relaxed more and more as I read.

“Like that one,” he said, his voice a soft sleepy rumble.

“Yeah, me too,” I agreed.  “It made me cry when I first read it.”

He chuckled softly.  “Puny, Elly.”

“Hey now!” I laughed. “Be nice.”  I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple.  “I had fun with you today.  Thanks for helping with the kids.”

“Hulk had fun too,” he said.  “My kids.”

“Yeah, they are,” I agreed.

He turned his head up to look at me.  “Hulk loves Elly.”

“Elly loves Hulk,” I replied, leaning down and kissing him softly.

He hummed when I pulled back, and his body began to shift, twitching and shrinking in on itself, the green fading from his skin, until Bruce was left lying in my lap and looking very confused.  I gave him a moment to figure out where he was and that he was safe, just continuing to stroke his hair.

“You okay?” I asked softly.

He nodded.  “Yeah.  Are you?  I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

“Nope,” I said.  “Hulk found me and the kids and we’ve been hanging out ever since.  Everything’s fine.”

He let out a sigh of relief.  “Tony blew up the centrifuge. I have no idea what he put into it.  Scared the life out of me,” he said.

“Sounds like Tony,” I agreed, and leaned down and kissed him softly.

He smiled into my lips and reached up and cradled my cheek.  “I am grateful for every day I’ve known you, El.  Who knows what would have happened before you came along.”

“I’m sure they would have got through to you.  Nat had the lullaby after all.”

He shrugged.  “Maybe.  But this is different.  He really loves you and the kids.  Me too.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual, B,” I said.

I kissed him again.  My partner with two souls, constantly laboring under the belief that his love was a burden.  It was far from it.  It was easy to love them.  One day I hoped he’d really understand that.

~ END ~ 

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 27

Masterlist

Warnings: nightmare, mention of death and cannon typical violence, grief, lots of grief, Wanda needs a hug and she gets one lol

Note: there is a point in the story where the reader speaks Sokovian, those words are italicized

Word count: 4.8k

“Cooper!” You shirked as the eldest Barton wrapped his arms around you. It was the perfect setup for Nate to tag you and declare you were it. Cooper was quick to let you go and run off. You huffed, wiped the sweat off your forehead, and chased after him. Being back at the Barton homestead was refreshing. You were worried about being there without the buffer of Kate or Yelena, but when you hugged Laura and Clint, you fell into an easy routine. You were quick to jump into a game with the three Barton kids. Nate decided on a game of tag, which you’ve never played, and watched the other kids. Their laughter and smiles made you jealous. Now, it was your laughter that echoed on the Barton’s land while you chased after Cooper. He was fast, but you were faster, especially with the training Maria put you through. You tagged him with ease. The momentum caused you to tag him a little hard, and he fell to the ground. Cooper flipped onto his back. “Oops,” you said. “Sorry.” His chest was heaving, and he used his forearm to block out the sun.

“I forgot,” he took a deep breath and let it out. “I forgot Dad said you were training with Maria and Yelena. This game is unfair.” You giggled and held out your hand to help him, but he refused and stood up alone. There were pieces of grass in his hair.

“Blame it on Nate then,” you smiled. “This was his ideal.” He shook his hair to remove the grass and put his arm over your shoulders.

“You are different than the last time you were here,” you kicked a rock on the ground and nodded. You were different, but it was good. Sometimes, you liked to sit and compare who you were when Natasha found you to who you are now. You felt stronger, more confident in your ability, and happier to be alive. You were in a dark mindset when you first lived on the streets. The crushing guilt of what happened to your parents lay heavy on your chest. The scars left by your father made you feel ugly. You were desperate to feel anything but pain. “It’s a good different,” Cooper continued. “It seems like I’m seeing the real you.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I feel free.”

“Good. Now,” he smiled. “Want to help me tag Nat?”

“Oh, 100%”

*

Natasha loved Iowa. Every time she visited the Barton Homestead, she found another reason to love this place. This beautiful place she was lucky to call a second home. This time, it was Y/n’s laughter. The sound seemed to travel for miles and miles. It was unguarded, light, and beautiful. She sipped on some lemonade Laura made and sat on the porch. It’s the perfect spot to watch the Barton kids and her own. Her kid. The blue-eyed, terrified teen she met at Annie’s was her and Wanda’s. Finally, it would be a few more weeks as the courts proceed with the paperwork. The lawyers Tony hired said the process would be smooth sailing, especially with the lack of documentation her biological parents failed to submit. They did advise that a court appearance may be necessary, but she wasn’t worried about that. Natasha didn’t need a judge to declare Y/n as her daughter. She was without the legal bullshit.

“It’s like a complete 180 with her,” Clint said. “I know you said she’s opened up more, but I almost had a heart attack when she hugged me,” Natasha chuckled.

“You are so dramatic,” Laura said. She and Wanda were sitting in the rocking chairs on the porch. “She gives perfect hugs. I was surprised by that.” Natasha glanced over her shoulder to see Wanda smile.

“She does, and she puts her whole body into it,” there were moments that took Natasha by surprise—these moments made her heart flutter and her stomach drop as she fell more in love with Wanda. Watching her care so intensely for the young girl repeatedly made her fall in love with her.

“Cooper!” The sound of Y/n’s shirk brought her back to the game of tag. The eldest Barton wrapped his arms around her so Nate could easily tag her.

“I think that’s my cue to start dinner,” Laura said.

“I’ll help you,” Wanda followed her into the house. Natasha leaned back on her hands and watched Y/n chase down Cooper until Clint gently slapped her leg.

“The way you look at Wanda makes me sick. Like your eyes turn into hearts,” Natasha rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, feeling her cheeks flush. “Now you know how Maria and I felt all those years watching you pin over Laura,” she flicked the man’s forehead. “Now that was disgusting.”

“You’re an asshole,” the Black Widow shrugged. Clint glanced at the house to make sure no one was around. “When are you going to ask her to marry you?” The question, though simple, caused the Black Widow to freeze as if someone injected ice through her veins. “I mean, come on, Nat, you guys have a kid together, and I know you’ve been looking at properties away from the city. What’s stopping you?” Again, it was a simple question, but it scared her. They had years together and faced more dangers than an average couple would face. Maybe it was fear that she would say no. Rationally, Natasha knew that was ridiculous, but she held back.

“I don’t know,” she ran her hand through her head. She was on the fence about dying it again. “What if she says no?” Her voice was so soft and sounded so small that she barely recognized it. It sounded stupid to say aloud, and she expected Clint to laugh, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed a hand on her shoulder; there was a look of understanding in his eyes.

“Then I’ll slap her,” he deadpanned. “Witchy powers or not, you were my friend first,” the mental image of Clint trying to fight Wanda pulled a laugh out of the Black Widow. “I know this won’t ease your anxiety overnight, but she won’t say. Hell, whoever is patient enough to put up with your stubborn ass deserves the biggest diamond,” Natasha punched him on the shoulder.

When the Sokovian first joined the team, Natasha only interacted with her during training. She was still shaken up by what she was forced to relive. A part of her wanted never to trust Wanda again. She was too dangerous and unpredictable, and her powers were out of control. One night, Natasha made her way to the roof of the compound; she needed fresh air to clear her mind from the nightmare. It seemed that nightmares weren’t only affecting her. Wanda was up there, wrapped in a blanket, and her feet dangled off the roof’s edge. Natasha could have left, never walked over to her, and started a conversation, but she sat beside her. They talked about nothing and everything until the sun came up.

Still, she kept her feelings for her to herself, never crossing that line from friends to something more. Everything came unrevealing until Ross went to the compound and threatened Wanda’s safety. The fear of losing Wanda pushed her to tell her everything. It was messy; she stumbled over her words, and Wanda kissed her to force her to stop talking.

“Hi,” Y/n’s sudden appearance broke her out of her thoughts. The girl’s face was bright red from running around, beads of sweat dripped down her forehead, but the smile on her face was the best part.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having fun?” She nodded her head.

“I am,” she said. “I was wondering if you knew when dinner would be ready or if I could grab a snack. I’m a little hungry,” she scratched her head awkwardly. Natasha smiled. It was a nice change of pace, especially when she knew how avoidant the teen was asking for help, even food.

“Laura and Wanda are in the kitchen right now, but I bet if you go in there and ask, they’ll give you something small,” the young girl said, bouncing on her feet and hugging Natasha. No matter how many hugs Natasha received from the teen, they’ll always be special. Wanda was right. She hugged with her whole body. It ended when Natasha felt a hand on her back, and the girl jumped out of her arms.

“Tag,” she spun around to see Cooper running off. “You’re it, Nat!” The Black Widow turned back to face Y/n, who was backing away with a smile.

“Your senses could use some work, all Mighty Black Widow,” she teased. It took a moment for Natasha’s brain to catch up and piece together what happened. She was set up, and Y/n was the bait. She was never tagged in all her years of playing tag with the Bartons. Some may say it was ridiculous, but she had a reputation to protect.

“Get back here, you traitor!” Natasha jumped up and raced after the teen. Maria was doing a great job at training her. She was fast, but Natasha was the Black Widow she wouldn’t lose to a kid. One final sprint, she trapped the girl in a hug. “That was smart,” Natasha admitted. “Using a hug to distract me, whose idea was that?” She began to tickle her sides.

“M-mine!” The teen laughed. “Nat, stop! Stop!” Natasha almost refused, loving the sound of her laughter, but she did. Y/n fell to the ground, rolling onto her back. “You are fast.”

“I got a few years on you, kid,” she held out her hand, and Y/n took it to stand up. “Keep training, and you’ll be faster than me.” She smiled and leaned against Natasha.

“I like it here,” she said.

“Yeah?” The teen nodded. “Would you like a house like the Barton’s one day?” Natasha watched her look around the land.

“Maybe one day. I like living in the tower. Everyone is there, you know?” Natasha nodded. She understood that. Her sister and the rest of the team that became her family were there. It would be hard not to see them all the time.

*

You woke up with a start. It felt like you were falling, and you woke up before you hit the ground. You were having a sleepover with Lila, sleeping on an air mattress on her floor. Slowly, you sat up and tried not to wake her as you stood up and left her room. You were thirsty, but your legs and arms shook as you walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. But the downstairs wasn’t empty; Natasha was sitting at the counter with a laptop and a glass of whiskey. She took her eyes off the screen when she heard you. “Hey, dorogoy, are you okay?” Were you shaking that much that she could notice?

“Uh yeah,” you cleared your throat. “I had a weird dream and came down for some water.”

“Here sit. I’ll grab you some,” you nodded and sat in the empty seat next to hers. It was hard not to glance at what she was looking at on her computer. Rings. Engagement rings. Your eyes widened quickly, and you looked forward. Natasha placed a glass of water and a chocolate chip cookie before you. “Do you want to talk about your dream?” You downed the glass of water and waited for Natasha to refill it.

“I don’t remember it,” you whispered, picking at the cookie. “I just felt like I was falling and woke up before hitting the ground.” You glanced at Natasha; her green eyes, full of kindness and understanding, were staring at you. “Do you have nightmares?” She nodded, gently taking your hand in hers. You liked the feeling of them, rough and covered in callouses.

“I do,” she admitted. “They aren’t as frequent, but every now and again, one will sneak up on me.”

“How do you get them to stop?” You questioned, your voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

“Time,” Natasha answered. “It’s a cliche line, but as time passes, we are able to cope with the things we did in our past - the people we’ve hurt and those who’ve hurt us,” Time. It was always time. Even Yelena said the same thing to you. But you were tired of your past hurting you. You wanted it to stop. Sighing, you sat back in the chair and glanced at the computer again.

“Are you going to ask Wanda to marry you?” The sudden change in conversation caused Natasha’s eyes to widen. “I mean, unless you have another girlfriend, I don’t know about,” a smile tugged at her lips. “I’m guessing the rings you are looking at are for her.” The Black Widow slowly nodded. A warm feeling filled your body and pushed away the dark thoughts of your nightmare. “Oh my god!” you slammed your hands down on the countertop and cringed slightly at the noise. “When are you going to ask her? Holy shit! This is so exciting!” You were vibrating in your seat. Natasha laughed.

“I haven’t even picked out a ring yet.”

“Can I help?” You asked slowly. Natasha smiled but nodded her head. It was how you found yourself next to Natasha on the couch, scrolling through various ring websites. None stood out to you. You hadn’t known Wanda for long, but a few things came to mind when you thought about her. She wasn’t one to wear a lot of jewelry so that she might prefer something on the smaller side. You knew she cared deeply about her family and the team. Wanda was kind, caring, and compassionate. Maybe she would like something that represents all those things.

“Wait,” you said suddenly. “Go back up.” Natasha scrolled up, and you pointed to a diamond ring. It was a three-stone diamond engagement ring. The description said that the two smaller pear-shaped diamonds framed the center gem. The center diamond was shaped like a square, but the website called it a Princess Diamond. You weren’t sure why it was called that, but you weren’t a professional. “I like that one.”

“Yeah? Why is that?” Natasha questioned. Your head rested on her shoulder, and you shrugged. You weren’t sure why you were drawn to it.

“I don’t know,” you said. “But there are three diamonds and three of us, so I think that’s why I like it.”

*

Now it was your turn to be up at night with Natasha’s laptop and the missing people’s name folder. It was another long day with the Bartons, playing Just Dance with Lila and a session of archer practice with Clint. However, your mind had yet to stop thinking about these people. So you brought the notebook you got from Lucia’s and wanted to write down everything you could find on them then…well, you weren’t sure. That part of the plan was still to be determined. There wasn’t much on them. No one cared to keep a record of who these people were after they became homeless.

But you found an article from 2012 published a few months after the Battle of New York. The article mentioned Ava Davis and Noah Rodriquez - childhood best friends turned business partners. They opened a fitness center that created personalized plans tailored to each individual’s needs. However, when Loki invaded the city, they lost everything. The fitness center was destroyed in the fight, and Ava’s girlfriend (recently turned fiance) was killed. They fell off the map until Lucia reported them missing.

You chewed on the end of your pen as you stared at the article and the summary you wrote. It was sad; your heart hurt for them. The city was in shambles after the battle; businesses were destroyed, and countless lives were lost. You remembered your father talking about it, saying the Avengers were working with the Devil. Sighing, you took a sip of the tea you made. It was no longer warm. “What are you doing up?” You yelped at the sudden voice. “Oops, sorry,” Clint laughed and poured himself a cup of coffee from the cold pot.

“You,” you placed a hand over your heart. “You gave me a heart attack.” You were taking a few deep breaths to calm the organ beating against your ribs.

“It’s my house. I didn’t expect to see you up!” He defended. That was fair, but you shrugged and returned to typing on the computer. “So what are you doing at this hour? You need sleep.” You were leaving tomorrow, which made you sad. But telling Clint wouldn’t hurt, right? Maybe.

“Someone I used to know before I moved into the tower told me a few people have missing people who have lived on the streets,” you clarified. “She’s reported it to the police, but they don’t care about people like me,” you saw a flash of anger pass through Clint’s eyes. “So I thought I’d use Avenger resources to find them.”

“Does the team know about this case you are working on?” You nodded.

“Tony got me the list of names from NYPD, and I told Pepper.”

“Any luck?” He moved around the counter and sat down next to you.

“Nothing on current whereabouts. It’s not like we can get our hands on cellphones, so tracking them through cellphone towers is out of the question,” you bite the end of your pen. “I thought about using facial recognition through Overwatch when I get back,” you looked at Clint, and he was looking at you. You couldn’t place the emotion on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You are just really good at this,” he said. “I’m just surprised.” You shrugged.

“I read a lot,” you mumbled. “I like a good crime novel.” Clint smiled. “So, do you have any ideas?” He pulled the file before him and flipped through the few pages.

“Well, if you can’t find them now, find the connection in their pass. If you believe these people are being taken, the answer is there. Find the connection between the individuals, which may lead you to who took them,” Clint explained.

“Find the connection,” you repeated. “Thank you! I’ll see what I can find.”

“Be careful,” he said, finishing his drink. “Don’t search for these people by yourself if it comes to that,” you nodded. “I’m serious,” he stood up and cleaned the mug he used. “What you are doing is honorable, but it can turn dangerous, and the last thing I need is an angry Black Widow and Scarlet Witch to come knocking on my door because you got hurt from my advice.” You laughed.

“I promise,” you said. “If I get a lead, I’ll hand it to the professionals.” He ruffled your hair.

“Smart kid. Get some sleep. From what I’ve heard, you have a bus for a couple of days,” you frowned. Natasha and Wanda refused to tell you the rest of the plans for the trip. “Night kiddo.”

“Night, Clint, and thank you again,” he gave you a salute and walked in the direction of his room. Find the connection. Find the connection. You began searching for other news articles, employment records, and rental leases. Every name you researched sent you down a rabbit hole that you followed. They were all different, all coming from different walks of life. One person spent some time in Lagos. Another was a teacher from California. But the one thing they had in common was the Avengers destroyed their livelihood. They lost businesses, family members, and loved ones in battles that the Avengers fought in. What was going on?

*

Saying goodbye to the Bartons was more complicated the second time than the first. A part of you was reluctant to leave, but you left with Cooper and Lila’s phone number in the new phone you got as a birthday present and a promise to text them all the time. So you loaded back onto the small jet and waved goodbye to them through the window. When you were at a safe altitude, you unbuckled your seat belt and walked over to the cockpit, standing between Natasha and Wanda. “So,” you dragged out the word. “Where are we going?” Natasha chuckled and shook her head.

“We are going to St. Petersburg to visit my parents. They’ve been very excited to meet you,” your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. No one was excited to meet you. You saw Natasha glance at Wanda, who was oddly quiet. She seemed lost in her head, a million miles away. Natasha placed a hand on her thigh. “They are eccentric,” she continued. “Just letting you know.” You hummed, but your attention was on the witch.

“Hey, Wands,” your voice pulled her out of her head. “Can you do my hair? Lila gave me some beads to put in it.”

“Yeah,” she forced a smile. “Of course I can.” You moved to the side so she could walk past you.

“Thank you,” Natasha whispered. You nodded and squeezed her shoulder. Wanda was sitting down with a hairbrush already, and you grabbed the beads from your bag. You sat between her legs and felt the brush move through your hair. It was soothing.

“Where are we going before St. Petersburg?” You questioned softly. Her hands stuttered slightly. “I know we are going somewhere that has you upset unless her parents are that bad.” Wanda chuckled.

“They are great,” you turned to face her when her voice cracked. Her eyes were glossy with tears. “I’m sorry,” she wiped her tears away. “You asked me to do something, and here I am crying.” You placed a hand on top of hers.

“It can wait,” you smiled. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?” You sat down next to her with your legs crossed. She faced forward, running her fingers across the bristles of the brush.

“I asked Nat if we could stop at what’s left of Sokovia. Once it was cleared of the rubble, the neighboring countries took the land. Completely erased it from the map,” her accent was thicker the more she spoke. “But a memorial was built in memory of the victims.”

“Like your brother?” You watched her body shake, but she quickly nodded her head. She placed the brush down and gripped the bench you both sat on. You saw the signs of her powers looking for an outlet. She told you that her powers were connected to her emotions. Her body was tense. The red glow of her magic danced on her fingers. Without hesitation, you grabbed her hand and hid away everything you didn’t want her to see. Her magic died down, and she turned to face you. A few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Can you tell me about them? Your parents, your brother, your home before the battle.”

“Why do you want to know?” You shrugged, opening up her palm and tracing the lines.

“Because it’s important to you, and I want to know about your life,” you said. “I want to know how I can help you.” Wanda smiled, squeezing your hand.

“Sokovia was,” she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Messy.” You weren’t expecting her to use that word. “It was messy to the outside world, but those living there found it beautiful. There was a lot of political turmoil, which resulted in the United States trying to fix it. I would fall asleep to the sound of bombs.”

“And you found that beautiful?” You thought living on the streets was hard enough. Wanda smiled, laughing slightly.

“Maybe that wasn’t beautiful, but we weren’t involved in the political nonsense as regular citizens. We had to rely on each other. I met some of the kindest people during those times. My parents tried very hard to provide for us to ensure we had food and a roof over our heads. We would watch sitcoms every night, and the laugh track would black out the war,” Wanda chuckled. “It sounds crazy when I say it out loud. You must think I’m insane,” you would never. “But I had to find the beautiful moments during the darkness.” You understood that. You found yourself doing the same thing: listening to your mother sing Caleb a song, finding a good book, and when your parents left you alone.

“I did the same,” you smiled. “Tell me more about your parents.” You could listen to Wanda talk about her home country for hours and hours. With every story she told, her eyes would light up, and her smile was so big. You hoped her smile would never fade away.

*

When the jet landed, Natasha and you allowed Wanda to visit the memorial without the two of you hovering. However, the Black Widow was passing back and forth - 5 steps one way, then turned around and walked back the other way. You sat on the ground, knees bent to rest your forearms on them. The memorial depicted an average Sokovian family - a mother, father, daughter, and son. Flowers and the Sokovian flag surrounded the family. “Who built it?” You asked. Natasha stopped her pacing and hummed in question. “Who built the memorial? It’s not like it appeared out of nowhere.” She faced the monument with her arms crossed. Wanda fell to her knees, and you knew Natasha was fighting the instinct to rush over to be with her.

“It kind of did,” she sat down next to you. “Stark has a relief foundation that helps with the messes we make, and they were on the scene before we made it back to the States,” Natasha sighed. “Stark says he didn’t do it, but you know Tony likes to take credit for everything,” you smiled, but the redhead sighed again. “Sokovia was a mess on and off the battlefield.”

“What happened?” You questioned. Natasha was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“There was a lot of talk about dismantling the Avengers,” she started. “Many people thought we were dangerous, especially with what happened in New York, DC, and Lagos. Ross was trying to pass the Accords,” the Accords? You weren’t sure what that was. You looked at her, confused. “It was a document that would allow the UN to be in control of us and have all enhanced individuals would have to be registered and monitored,” she explained. Enhanced? So, people like you, Wanda, and America.

“Why didn’t it get passed?”

“We refused to sign it,” Natasha bent one of her knees and leaned back. “I think it was the first time I saw the team stand together,” she admitted. “With us banding together, the Accords made no traction. We were left to make our own choices, but we try to limit the damage we cause and help those affected.” You nodded and focused back on Wanda. You could feel her energy. There was an uptick in her heart rate. Her breathing was becoming uneven. She was grieving, alone. Natasha told you the Accords weren’t signed because the Avengers came together. You weren’t going to let her face this alone.

You stood up and walked over to her, ignoring the way Natasha called after you. You tiptoed, not wanting to scare her. “You can join me,” she invited you. Nodding, you knelt next to her. “It’s so quiet,” Wanda looked around. “Sokovia was never this quiet.” She ran her hand across the ground. “I can’t believe it’s gone.”

“It’s not gone,” you whispered. “Just because the place is gone, Sokovia is still alive. It’s alive because of you and everyone else who survived that day,” you placed your hand on the monument. “Now it lives through me because you are keeping its memory and culture alive.” She placed her hand on top of yours. “Can you sign that lullaby your mom used to sing? I’d love to learn it.”

“It’s in Sokovian,” you smiled.

“I’d love to have another language under my belt.” Wanda laughed and used the back of her hand to clear the tears from her face. She taught you the song. Some words felt heavy on your tongue, but you managed to muddle your way through it. As you learned it, you heard Natasha’s footsteps behind you. She kissed the top of Wanda’s head, and the witch leaned her weight against her. You smiled, closed your eyes, and began to hum the tune Wanda shared with you.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” you sang. “Now you are here. More perfect than I imagined,” the Sokovian words were hard to pronounce, and your voice shook. “Our house is now a home. No matter where you go. Sunlight shines on you,” you open your eyes. “Sunlight shines on you.”

_

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[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

🧚‍♀️ Anon

Slasher Anasui would be so delicious

He would pull a Micheal Myers, only to escape and stalk his childhood crush as she babysits (He intends to fulfill his promise he made to her when they were children)

Anasui is stalking after Darling not to kill her but to make her become his Bride (However everyone else is fair game)

I love the Halloween Movies (I sadly don’t have access to all of them only the 1st and 2nd movie)

Ooooh OK ok. This is interesting.

So I think that they were initially split up after he (around middle school age) got into a fight that involved darling and her parents seperated them (Transfered her to another school or got the school to stop them from being in the same classes).

Years later there was an another incident that led to him attacking and killing someone darling knew (either a partner or who he believed was) causing him to get incarcerated. Somehow the defense lawyers were able to get an insanity plea and so he got sent to a mental institution.

However just as he was getting dragged out he passes darling. (Who had been standing as a witness against him)

"Nothing will ever stop me from loving you and I'm going to kill whoever it takes to get you back" he'd snarl before the police would push him away.

He was serving 20 years at least, more then enough time for darling to relocate by the time of his release. However 3 years later he manages to break out and kills a couple to take their clothes and car. He's able to spend some time around the town figuring out where she is before the news gets out.

Darling only hears of this after she tucks the kid she was babysitting in bed. Immediately she's calling the parents asking them if there is a family member or friend she can drop them off at as well as calling her parents so they know, because darling knows exactly what Anasui wants. (Unfortunately she doesn't know that he's already a lot closer then she could imagine)

After darling drops off the kid she finds that a car has parked across the driveway, basically trapping it in. She storms up to the car to confront the asshole who parked behind her. She knows they're still in since their headlights are on.

"Seriously! I have somewhere to be you jackass!" She yells as she pounds on the door.

"Oh you've gotta go somewhere, but we've got more important things to sort out" a familiar voice coos as the tinted window rolls down, revealing himself to her.

Darling immediately runs to front door, begging to be let in and they do before locking it. They call the police but Anasui breaks down the wooden door (or the glass panels allowing him to unlock it from the outside). The husband tried to fight him but he easily breaks a limb before grabbing one of the kitchen knives. The wife drops the phone before she's able to finish the call and he destroys it.

"I told you... nothing is going to stop me" he seethes

"And anyone who gets in our way will die" he continues as he snatches darlings hand and drags her outside. He's caught the attention of one of the neighbors who tries to intervene but is immediately stabbed by Anasui with little thought.

All that time he's been waiting to get her back is what is driving his murderous intent. Darling either cooperate with him and keep casualties to a minimum or if she tries to runaway he's just going to keep mowing down as many people that throw themselves infront of her.

[flowerandblood]

The Crime and Punishment (7)

[ modern! lawyer • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sex content, age gap, smut, domination kink, sexual tension, fluff ]

[ description: Aemond becomes a co-owner of one of the largest law firms in the area. He is invited to cooperate by one of the best lawyers he knows. While working in the evenings on further matters at his house, he meets his daughter, much younger than him, whose behavior gives him sleepless nights. Anon Request: Age gap, domination, lots of sexual tension and guilt. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Ever since her father caught them almost in the act they decided they had to be more careful. They texted each other and saw each other in the office, but decided to wait with any intimate contact until the business trip that awaited them.

Hannah finished her apprenticeship and she took her place. Surprisingly, now that she was the one handling his files, tidying up his archives, and completing his paperwork, he was completely calm and had no complaints about her work. Everything was going like clockwork.

It was hard for her not to walk over to him and touch him. When he was standing next to her she took his big hand and lead her inside his panties, letting him feel how wet she was because of him.

Sometimes they would stand by his bookcase, kissing like teenagers afraid of being caught by their parents. Both of them were overwhelmed with tension and frustration, but on the other hand they loved this secret relationship.

They had a business trip ahead of them which they both kept thinking about. A very big case was going on in the city a few hours away, and Aemond was the lead defense attorney on the defendant's case. The situation was about millions, bribes and no compensation payments to employees. Aemond believed that the failure to pay proper compensation was fair, but the bribery allegations were made up.

“They have nothing on him, apart from the testimony of one of the employees who allegedly saw such a transaction. No suspicious bank transfers, no sudden large withdrawals, nothing. The young prosecutor deals with this case and wants to shine which is why he is pushing for the strictest sentence. A fucking brat.” He grunted as he sat behind the wheel, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as she looked through his documents.

They were on their way to the hotel near the courthouse where everything was to take place. There were a lot of witnesses on both sides of the case, there was also quite a lot of media coverage, so they prepared to stay there for a few days. Not that they mind.

She suspected that he wanted nothing more than to fuck her in his hotel room. They had booked two separate apartments for appearances, but she knew she would sleep in his bed. She sighed at his words.

“He will show off and will not give up. I also believe that the accusation of bribery is unjustified. They just want to destroy him. You've got to put that Thomas Moor under pressure, to get him bogged down in his testimony. I don't think he saw anything, just taking revenge on the old boss." She said, reading the file again in the last few days. She felt like she knew them by heart, but she didn't want to disappoint him.

"I know." He murmured low.

She flinched as she felt his free hand on her knee, stroking up and down her thigh, she's been wet since she got in the car. She wanted to ask him to stop somewhere in the woods, undo his fly, and start riding him, fucking him hard. She decided not to show him how desperate she was.

By the time they arrived they had two hours left before the trial. They knew they couldn't be distracted, so each of them went to a different room.

She began to dress, deciding that the light dress she was wearing was not suitable for the courtroom. She put on a black, tight turtleneck and bright, elegant pants fastened with a belt high at the waist. Some of her long hair was tied up in a bun at the back.

She looked at herself in the mirror and decided that she looked nice, elegant and serious, but not old at the same time. She decided not to wear any jacket, leaving herself a little slack. She took the folders with the documents she had to take and left the room, waiting for him in the corridor.

She smiled to herself as he left, his shirt and trousers impeccably arranged and ironed as usual. She wondered if she would be taking those clothes off him today. She saw him look her up and down, feigning indifference. She knew he liked the way she looked and that he was thinking the same thing as her.

"Let's go." He said calmly and they left the hotel, heading across the street to the courthouse.

Aemond didn't change into his attorney's robe until he entered the courtroom. She had seen him in it many times before, but she had never sat next to him.

She brought them both coffee and tea. People began to come inside, the prosecutor appeared on the opposite side. He smiled at them and nodded, but only she smiled back.

After a while the judge came in and everyone got up. A middle-aged man with visible, gray hair opened the trial, briefly stating what they would do and what witnesses would testify.

The prosecutor had priority in asking questions. Their client, seated behind them fidgeted uneasily, pale and tired. It was obvious he hadn't slept through the night.

The prosecutor was very well prepared. He was acutely aware of their client's slightest lapses, his private conflicts with his associates which he theorized, would force him to bribe a few people to keep him in the chair.

He used words like "surely," "as everyone knows," "well known to be," and so on. She thought it was pathetic that he was trying to create an image of their client by mere manipulation, instead of relying on evidence she and Aemond both knew, he didn't have.

She jotted down on small sticky notes any slip-ups she thought were worth noting. Then she taped them to Aemond's briefcase in front of him. He read them, then listened to the prosecutor again, his face set as stone.

Cross-examination of witnesses followed, and Aemond was able to relate to what the prosecutor had said. She heard with satisfaction as, in addition to his own conclusions, he also used her phrases and sayings which she had noted for him.

She watched with a kind of pride as Aemond clarified the situation, explaining slowly that everything that had been said was based on mere conjecture without any physical evidence.

After a few hours, the first day of the trial was closed. Aemond said he'd stay with the client, but if she wanted to she could go eat at the restaurant downstairs. She agreed, because she hadn't eaten anything since the morning due to stress and was dying of hunger.

She stood at the counter, staring at a large refrigerator full of all sorts of sandwiches. Someone stopped next to her, and she thought the man was choosing the products as well, but he turned to her suddenly, causing her surprise.

"Your boss is quite a beast." Said the man she recognized as the prosecutor.

Up close she found him handsome. He had slightly curly, short black hair, dark, large eyes, and something about his smile that would make you uneasy. She thought he was a few years younger than Aemond. She turned her head, looking at him curiously, wondering what he wanted.

"I know." She answered softly and lingeringly, smiling with an inscrutable expression on her face.

They stood side by side, just staring at each other, she could feel the tension between them. She thought that he wanted to spin her a little, maybe take her to the room for a one-time fuck and get a few words out of her about Aemond, so he'd know how to attack him or just to annoy him.

"Are you his assistant?" He asked suddenly, taking a sip of coffee from the disposable cup in his hand. She smiled even wider at his words.

"Not completely." She spoke truthfully.

The prosecutor raised his eyebrows at her words in amusement, tilting his head. He pursed his lips and opened them with a soft, wet click. She could see that he was analyzing something in his head now.

"Interesting." He grunted low, narrowing his eyes.

She thought he was quite a player. That if it weren't for Aemond she might have been tempted. But the only person she wanted to spend the night with was him. She opened her mouth to say something, but his low, cool voice sounded behind her.

"Any problem?" He asked, looking at prosecutor as if he wanted to tear him apart for daring to speak to her. The prosecutor smiled warmly at him, unfazed by his tone of voice.

"No. We were just talking. You have a wonderful assistant." He said, looking her up and down. She knew he was doing it on purpose and somehow it amused her.

“My craving for sandwiches is gone.” She said, walking past him, not paying attention to what Aemond would do.

She walked over to the cupcake stand and saw Aemond say something quickly to prosecutor out of the corner of her eye. He skirted him and headed for the stairs without even waiting for her. She sighed softly as she handed the bill to the clerk, knowing he was furious.

She knocked on his room, eating the rest of the cupcake she had just bought. No one answered and she sighed softly as she sat down on the floor, leaning against his door.

"I'll stay here until you open." She said loudly as she continued eating. She heard someone move in the room, then a key turned in the lock and the door flew open. He looked down at her with an indifferent expression, his gaze cold.

"Do you always have to make such a show of yourself?" He asked impatiently. She frowned as she stood up, swallowing the last bite of her quick meal.

"What have I done to deserve such words?" She asked with slight resentment.

He stared at her enraged, his lips pressed into a line. She moved closer to him, their bodies almost touching. His face remained stone. She was touched by how easily he became jealous of her.

"You know what." He spoke short and low, menacing. She put her hand on his shirt and felt him flinch. She ran her fingers over his chest, looking him straight in the face.

"I don't know. Haven't I been good for you, sir?" She asked softly, her bottom lip slightly parted.

She needed it, she needed him to fuck her, to feel his desperation and desire, to feel him deep inside her. She heard him swallow hard.

He suddenly closed the door behind her and pressed her against it, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, licking and sucking her, not allowing her to catch her breath.

She began to quickly unbutton his shirt, continuing to kiss him, his hands quickly pulling her turtleneck over her head. Especially for him she put on her lovely cream lace lingerie, sweet and alluring at the same time. He took a deep breath as he saw her bra through which her pink nipples showed slightly.

He lifted her by the hips and carried her deeper into the room, her hands intertwined in his hair, her legs clasped around his waist. He threw himself on the bed with her, massaging her lips with his with a loud, wet click, their kisses one, big mess.

They both unzipped their pants quickly, Aemond moaning low as she immediately removed his boxers. He lay down on top of her, panting heavily with her, both of them on the verge of a nervous breakdown from the frustrations and tension that they were building up between them.

In one swift motion he took off her panties, spreading her thighs in front of him. His thumb brushed over her entry, causing her to arch back with a sweet moan, her juices dripping onto the sheets beneath her.

"He's got you so wet?" He asked low, dangerously, excitingly. She felt her insides tighten at the tone of his voice, commanding and uncompromising. She shook her head, breathing fast, her thighs quivering with thirst.

"N-no, of course not, sir" She mumbled, looking pleadingly at him, her hands clenched helplessly on the pillow beneath her head.

Her body quivered all over, her mouth parting more as he ran his fingers over her quivering, hot womanhood, teasing her clit casually, making her squeal softly beneath him each time. He smiled at the sight, but it was a disturbing smile to say the least.

"You like to play with men, don't you? You like it when they want you." He hissed, his thumb circling once in a while around her clit, giving her a hard, one-time sensation, pausing each time her thighs pushed out toward him for more. She looked at him innocently, her breasts rising and falling restlessly, her whole body trembling.

"I only want you, Aemond, please" She whispered, for some reason, shocked, she felt tears well up in her eyelids.

Frustration, thirst, and helplessness made her want to cry. Seeing this, he stopped suddenly, hesitation on his face. Her lower lip trembled of its own accord, a single tear slid from the corner of her eye onto the pillow.

She saw his gaze soften slowly, his fury receding like clouds dispersing after a storm. His fingers began to massage her more intensively, bolder, finally allowing her to feel the pleasure. She moaned sweetly, her cheeks all red. His mouth dropped open at the sight.

"It's okay. You know I'll take care of you. Do you have to drive me crazy every time?" He asked with irony and frustration, his finger slid inside her suddenly, causing her to lean back with a loud moan of surprise. He rubbed her in a wonderful spot that sent heat through her body, her hips involuntarily responding to his every move.

"I won't anymore, I promise, I promise I'll make you feel so good" She sobbed with pleasure and desire.

She clamped one hand on his shoulder, looking pleadingly at him, his fingers rubbing her cruelly slowly and thoroughly, his head tilted as if in curiosity as he looked at her.

"Please, put him in me already" She mumbled, all red with embarrassment and the heat that was rushing through her body.

His eye lit up dangerously in satisfaction at her words. He hummed appreciatively, pressing his lips together, running his tongue over them.

"I'm not sure you've learned your lesson right yet. I think I need to show you what awaits you if you flirt with other men again." He grunted lowly, taking her thighs in his hands, lifting them slightly.

He leaned over her, his tongue running from her entrance all the way to her clit, making her sob with desire. Her pussy throbbed all over his face, aching with thirst. She felt him smile under his breath, his tongue slowly and carefully licking her moisture that flowed from her with the tip of his tongue.

"Please, sir, please" She moaned helplessly, her fingers tangling hard in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to feel him more.

"Take what I give you." He growled, his tongue sliding in and out of her, teasing her, driving her crazy.

His hands gripped her thighs painfully tight, not allowing her to move. He licked her with the wet, sticky click of her juices, building more and more tension in her. She felt that even if he only touched her like this, she would come.

"So desperate already?" He asked, panting with desire himself, seeing how he affected her, what a mess she was. She moaned softly at his words, trembling all over.

"Yes, please, I need you so much" She sputtered helplessly, writhing under him, her hips pressing against his face, unable to stop herself. She felt a shiver run through him at her words.

He rose suddenly, turning her over onto her stomach in one firm motion, lifting her hips high, pulling them close to him. She moaned loudly, her hands clenching the sheet as he suddenly slid his cock deep into her, filling her to the very end.

He immediately began to move inside her, fast and hard, panting and moaning with her, defeated. He didn't have the strength to pretend that he didn't need it himself, that he hadn't just dreamed about it for weeks.

"I'm gonna fuck you all night long. Do you understand? I'll cum in you as many times as I want." He hissed, his hands clenched painfully tight on his buttocks, his thighs slapping lewdly against hers with a wet slap, sweat pouring down their bodies with the effort.

His words made her shiver. She tensed up so that he was rubbing her where she most enjoyed it. Her hips responded greedily to his thrusts, wanting to feel him as deeply as possible. She felt her impending fulfillment, heat melting in her lower belly.

"Y-yes, please, please, fuck me!" She sobbed sweetly, helplessly, his thrusts getting more brutal and faster, both of them gasping loudly, as if they were running in a sprint.

She suddenly felt her whole body tense, her voice stuck in her throat. She parted her lips, and after a moment, a broken, loud moan of fulfillment escaped them, her insides tightening painfully on him, making him throw his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck!" He panted with a loud groan as he cum hard, his warm seed gushing inside her, filling her all over, his cock throbbing greedily inside her. "Here you go, babygirl. All my semen, just for you"

"Oh, God, yes" She moaned blissfully, her thighs moving with him a moment longer, wanting to prolong their pleasure.

After a moment he rolled her onto his side and hugged her from behind, burying his face in her hair, his slowly softening cock still deep inside her. Both of them were breathing heavily, unable to calm down, trembling all over.

"Rest for a while." He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over her ear, her soft purr answering him. "It's going to be a rough night for you."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9

Others: @fangirlninja67 @the-common-cowgirl @glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @toodlesxcuddles @virtualsweetsqueen @nina2697

[familylawyerbarrie]

The Role of Cooperative Parenting Lawyers in Facilitating Effective Co-Parenting After Separation

Cooperative parenting lawyers play a crucial role in facilitating effective co-parenting after separation. When couples decide to part ways, especially when children are involved, the challenges of navigating the complexities of co-parenting can be overwhelming. In such cases, cooperative parenting lawyers step in to provide expert guidance and support to help parents establish and maintain healthy and productive co-parenting relationships. By understanding the needs and dynamics of each family, these professionals work towards creating a positive and cooperative environment that prioritizes the best interests of the children.

Establishing Effective Communication Channels

Cooperative parenting lawyers excel in establishing effective communication channels between parents. They emphasize the importance of open and respectful dialogue, encouraging parents to focus on constructive discussions rather than engaging in conflicts. By promoting active listening and empathy, these lawyers help parents overcome communication barriers and develop strategies for effective co-parenting. They provide valuable guidance on creating parenting plans that consider the unique needs and schedules of each family member, ensuring a balanced and supportive co-parenting relationship.

Resolving Disputes and Mediation

Cooperative parenting lawyers are skilled in dispute resolution and mediation. They are well-versed in the legal aspects of co-parenting and can assist in reaching fair and mutually beneficial agreements. When conflicts arise, these professionals act as mediators, guiding parents toward compromise and consensus. By encouraging respectful negotiation and problem-solving, they help minimize the impact of disputes on children and promote a cooperative co-parenting atmosphere.

Family lawyers’ expertise in establishing effective communication channels and resolving conflicts through mediation allows parents to navigate the challenges of co-parenting with greater ease and effectiveness. By prioritizing the well-being of the children and fostering a cooperative environment, these lawyers play a crucial role in ensuring a smooth transition for families after separation. 

When seeking to facilitate effective co-parenting after separation, engaging the services of JMS Law can make a significant difference in the overall well-being of both parents and children alike. So, contact us today!

[emma-watson-blog]

Overview:

Born:

April 15, 1990 · Paris, France

Birth name:

Emma Charlotte Duerre Watson

Nickname:

Em

Height:

5′ 5″ (1.65 m)

Mini Bio:

Emma Charlotte Duerre Watson was born in Paris, France, to British parents, Jacqueline Luesby and Chris Watson, both lawyers. She moved to Oxfordshire when she was five, where she attended the Dragon School. From the age of six, Emma knew that she wanted to be an actress and, for a number of years, she trained at the Oxford branch of Stagecoach Theatre Arts, a part-time theatre school where she studied singing, dancing and acting. By the age of ten, she had performed and taken the lead in various Stagecoach productions and school plays.

In 1999, casting began for Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone (2001), the film adaptation of British author J.K. Rowling's bestselling novel. Casting agents found Emma through her Oxford theatre teacher. After eight consistent auditions, producer David Heyman told Emma and fellow applicants, Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint, that they had been cast for the roles of the three leads, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The release of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (2001) was Emma's cinematic screen debut. The film broke records for opening-day sales and opening-weekend takings and was the highest-grossing film of 2001. Critics praised the film and the performances of the three leading young actors. The highly distributed British newspaper, 'The Daily Telegraph', called her performance "admirable". Later, Emma was nominated for five awards for her performance in the film, winning the Young Artist Award for Leading Young Actress in a Feature Film.

After the release of the first film of the highly successful franchise, Emma became one of the most well-known actresses in the world. She continued to play the role of Hermione Granger for nearly ten years, in all of the following Harry Potter films: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (2001), Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002), Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004), Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005), Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007), Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009), Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010), and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (2011). Emma acquired two Critics' Choice Award nominations from the Broadcast Film Critics Association for her work in Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban and Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire. The completion of the seventh and eight movies saw Emma receive nominations in 2011 for a Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Award, and for Best Actress at the Jameson Empire Awards. The Harry Potter franchise won the BAFTA for Outstanding British Contribution to Cinema in February 2011.

2011 saw Emma in Simon Curtis's My Week with Marilyn (2011), alongside a stellar cast of Oscar nominees including Michelle Williams as Marilyn Monroe and Kenneth Branagh as Sir Laurence Olivier, in addition to Eddie Redmayne, Dame Judi Dench, Dougray Scott, Zoe Wanamaker, Toby Jones and Dominic Cooper. Chronicling a week in Marilyn Monroe's life, the film featured Emma in the supporting role of Lucy, a costume assistant to Colin Clark (Redmayne). The film was released by The Weinstein Company and was nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Motion Picture - Comedy or Musical. In 2012 Emma was seen in Stephen Chbosky's adaptation of his coming-of-age novel The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012), starring opposite Logan Lerman and Ezra Miller. This independent drama centered around Charlie (Lerman), an introverted freshman who is taken under the wings of two seniors (Watson and Miller) who welcome him to the real world. The film premiered at the 2012 Toronto International Film Festival and received rave reviews. The film won the People's Choice Award for Favourite Dramatic Movie and Emma also picked up the People's Choice Award for Favourite Dramatic Movie Actress. Emma was awarded a second time for this role with the Best Supporting Actress Award at the San Diego Film Critics Society Awards where the film also won the Best Ensemble Performance Award.

In summer 2013, Emma starred in Sofia Coppola's American satirical black comedy crime film, The Bling Ring (2013), opposite Katie Chang and Israel Broussard. The film took inspiration from real events and followed a group of teenagers who, obsessed with fashion and fame, burgled the homes of celebrities in Los Angeles. The film opened the Un Certain Regard section of the 2013 Cannes Film Festival. Emma also appeared in a cameo role as herself in Seth Rogen's apocalypse comedy This Is The End (2013). The film tells the story about what happens to some of Hollywood's best loved celebrities when the apocalypse strikes during a party at James Franco's house.

2014, Emma was seen in Darren Aronofsky's Noah (2014), opposite Russell Crowe, Jennifer Connelly, Ray Winstone, Douglas Booth, Logan Lerman, and Anthony Hopkins. The film told the epic, biblical tale of Noah and the ark. Emma plays the role of Ila, a young woman who develops a close relationship with Noah's son, Shem (Booth). Noah made an outstanding $300m since its release in March. In 2015, Emma starred in Regression (2015), written and directed by Alejandro Amenábar. Also headlined by Oscar-nominated Ethan Hawke, and set in Minnesota in 1990, Regression tells the story of Detective Bruce Kenner (Hawke), who investigates the case of young Angela, played by Emma, who accuses her father of sexual abuse.

In 2012, Emma was honored with the Calvin Klein Emerging Star Award at the ELLE Women in Hollywood Awards. In 2013, Emma was awarded the Trailblazer Award at the MTV Movie Awards in April and was honored with the GQ Woman of the Year Award at the GQ Awards in September. Further to her acting career, Emma is a Goodwill Ambassador for the UN, promoting gender equality and the empowerment of women. Emma graduated from Brown University in May 2014.

2017, Emma starred in the live-action Disney fantasy Beauty and the Beast (2017), one of the biggest movies of all time in the U.S., and the dramatic thriller The Circle (2017).

Family:

Jacqueline Luesby(Parent)

Chris Watson(Parent)

Relatives:

Freda Emma Watson (Duerre)(Grandparent)

Toby Watson(Half Sibling)

Lucy Watson(Half Sibling)

Nina Watson(Half Sibling)

Alex Watson(Sibling)

Trivia:

Has kept a painstakingly detailed log of her everyday life since her film career took off, as many as 30 journals in total.

Favorite Harry Potter book is Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Best friends with Harry Potter co-stars Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint after practically growing up with them on the Harry Potter set. She calls them her 'brothers'.

Was offered the titled lead in Cinderella (2015) but turned it down.

At the age of fifteen became the youngest person to appear on the cover of Teen Vogue magazine.

Paris at the time of Emma's birth. Emma lived in France until the age of five, when her family returned to the United Kingdom.

Was named the 'Highest Grossing Actress of the Decade' by the Guiness Book of World Records. Her film work in the past decade has grossed over 5.4 billion dollars worldwide (2009).

She achieved eight A* and two A passes in her GCSEs (exams British school pupils take in their last compulsory year of secondary school).

Prefers to sign autographs for fans rather than taking pictures with them.

Auditioned eight times (at age 9) for the role of Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter films, playing opposite five prospective sets of Harry's before landing the part.

Was offered the role of Mia in La La Land (2016) but turned it down to play Belle in Disney's live-action Beauty and the Beast (2017). The role then went to Emma Stone, who won an Academy award for her performance. Ironically, she replaced Stone for the role of Meg March in Greta Gerwig's Little Women (2019) after Stone was unable to take the part due to her scheduling conflicts in promoting The Favourite (2018).

Both of her parents are lawyers.

Emma's favorite movies include Notting Hill (1999), Love Actually (2003), Bridget Jones's Diary (2001), Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994), About Time (2013), Giant (1956), Breathless (2008), Amélie (2001), Pan's Labyrinth (2006), The Fountain (2006), The Shawshank Redemption (1994), Gladiator (2000), Braveheart (1995), The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008), Philomena (2013), Blue Jasmine (2013), Rush (2013), 12 Years a Slave (2013), The Great Beauty (2013), The Woodmans (2010), Closer (2004), Pretty Woman (1990), Chicago (2002), Romeo + Juliet (1996), Moulin Rouge! (2001), Dirty Dancing (1987), Grease (1978), Shrek (2001), Ice Age (2002), and Finding Nemo (2003). school and local teams), skiing, painting, cooking, singing, and dancing (has twice competed with her school in Rock Challenge 2006 and 2007).

Entering Brown University, Rhode Island, U.S.A. after completion of the Harry Potter Movies (July 21, 2009).to study literature.

Emma's favorite actors are Johnny Depp and Russell Crowe.

Her parents divorced in 1995; each parent has since remarried. On her father's side, she has a younger half-brother, Toby, born 2003, and half-sisters (identical twins) Lucy and Nina, born in 2004. Lucy and Nina played the younger version of her character Pauline in Ballet Shoes (2007). She also has two stepbrothers through her mother's remarriage.

Has said that she'd like to work with directors Alfonso Cuarón and Guillermo del Toro.

Is a certified yoga and meditation instructor.

Is a fan of The Golden Compass (2007) and the rest of the fantasy trilogy 'His Dark Materials' by Philip Pullman.

Emma's favorite actresses are Julia Roberts, Renée Zellweger, Sandra Bullock, Rebel Wilson, Goldie Hawn, Nicole Kidman, Cate Blanchett, Helena Bonham Carter, Natalie Portman and Meryl Streep.

Is the former roommate and current best friend of America's Next Top Model (2003) Cycle 18 winner, Sophie Sumner.

Attended The Dragon School, a renowned preparatory school in Oxford, between September 1995 and July 2001. She then went on to attend Headington School, a private all-girls school, between September 2001 and July 2006.

She enrolled in a Shakespeare course at The Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts during the summer of 2008.

May 25, 2014) Graduated from Brown University with a bachelor's degree in English literature.

Emma's favorite television shows include Friends (1994), Sex and the City (1998), Girls (2012), Gossip Girl (2007), America's Next Top Model (2003), Mad Men (2007), House of Cards (2013), Pride and Prejudice (1995) and The Crown (2016).

Has two cats, one is named Bubbles and the other is named Domino.

Emma Watson has stated that, since her audition at age 9 through the completion of 8 Harry Potter features by age 22, the hectic, educational experience consumed over half her life.

She was named after her paternal grandmother, born Freda Emma Duerre who, after marriage, became Freda Emma Duerre Watson.

Was in a relationship with Will Adamowicz from 2012-2013. The couple met while studying at Oxford University in 2011.

Took AS levels in English, Geography, Art, and History of Art in May 2007, and has now dropped History of Art to pursue the three A levels.

When she made a promotional appearance on a Dutch TV talk show for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007), the interview ended with her joining the Dutch illusion act Magic Unlimited, who sawed her in half.

Has the same birthday as her Beauty and the Beast co-stars: Luke Evans and her Harry Potter collaborator Emma Thompson.

Is taking legal action after private photos of her trying on various outfits were stolen and posted online.

Was ranked #3 on Empire Magazine's '100 Sexiest Movie Stars' list.

She and her Harry Potter co-stars Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint were named #9 on Entertainment Weekly's Best Entertainers of the Year in 2005.

Ranked as having one of the most beautiful famous faces by "The Annual Independent Critics List of the 100 Most Beautiful Famous Faces From Around the World." She was ranked #2 in 2010, #12 in 2009, #27 in 2008, #30 in 2007, and #54 in 2006.

In 2008, BoyDestiny wrote and sang the song "You Got Me Going", also known as The Emma Watson Song.

Sixth highest paid actress of 2017 with $14 million.

Passed her driving test in the U.S. in 2008 and drives a Toyota Prius.

Was named the face of the 2009 Fall/Winter Burberry Campaign.

Radio One's movie critic James King named "Ron Weasley" and "Hermione Granger", played by Rupert Grint and Emma Watson, as number 4 in his Top 5 Movie Couples list on The Colin and Edith Show (2006).

Emma's style icons include Jean Seberg, Mia Farrow, Kate Bosworth, Diane Kruger, Jane Birkin, Edie Sedgwick, Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn, Lauren Bacall, Sofia Coppola, Cate Blanchett, Tilda Swinton, Françoise Hardy, Charlotte Rampling and Michelle Obama.

She served on a jury to select the 2004 teen-aged film-makers' First Light Film Awards. The ceremony was held in London's Leicester Square. Other jurors included Pierce Brosnan, Kenneth Branagh, and Samantha Morton.

In 2007, Forbes Magazine estimated her earnings for the year at $4 million.

Has worked closely with the organic and fair trade pioneer People Tree.

Announced that she would be collaborating with People Tree, a Fair Trade Fashion Company, as a creative advisor for the new Spring/Summer collection.

Emma's favorite filmmakers are Richard Curtis, Alfonso Cuarón, Guillermo del Toro, Sofia Coppola, Darren Aronofsky, Danny Boyle, David Fincher, Lynne Ramsay, Ang Lee, and Tom Hooper.

Emma Watson has combined/hyperactive type ADHD, for which she has been medicated ever since she was 5.

Has spoken in the United Nations Organization in favour of Women's Rights, including abortion.

Was ranked #8 in Portrait Magazine's 'Top 30 Under 30' (2009). 'Harry Potter' cast mates Evanna Lynch, Rupert Grint, Bonnie Wright, Tom Felton and Daniel Radcliffe also made the list on the 3rd, 5th, 7th, 14th and 18th place respectively.

Was ranked #15 on Forbes List of The 20 Top-Earning Young Superstars.

Ranked #4 by Portrait Magazine for favorite celebrities by fans' vote. Her Harry Potter co-star Bonnie Wright Had also Ranked #5.

Includes Justin Timberlake and Alanis Morissette among her favorite singers.

She was the front-runner for the role of Yelena Belova in Black Widow (2021), but it was given to Florence Pugh.

Was ranked #3 on Moviefone's '25 Hottest Actors Under 25'.

(April 24, 2011) Her publicist, Vanessa Davies, said that Emma will transfer from Brown University to another school in the Fall of 2011.

Was ranked #3 on 'Yahoo! List of the 10 Most Popular Stars of 2007'.

Was ranked #69 on Maxim magazine's Hot 100 women of 2011 list.

Once accidentally mistook Jimmy Fallon for Jimmy Kimmel.

Was born at 6:00pm (GMT + 1 hour) on a Sunday.

Voted #17 on Ask Men's top 99 'most desirable' women of 2012.

Ranked #94 on the Maxim magazine Hot 100 of 2008 list.

Was Entertainment Weekly's "Entertainer of the Month" for the month of July (2009).

She was ranked #8 on Portrait Magazine's 'Top 30 Under 30' list.

Ranked #29 on Askmen's list of the Top 99 Most Desirable women for 2013.

She was ranked #3 on Teen Vogue's list of the Best Dressed celebrities of 2009.

Ranked #15 in the 2011 FHM Australia of "100 Sexiest Women".

Was ranked #97 on Forbes List of The Celebrity 100.

Ranked #23 in the 2011 FHM list of "100 Sexiest Women in the World".

She was ranked #6 on MSN's list of 'Best Dressed Stars of 2009'.

Was ranked #28 on Entertainment Weekly's '30 Under 30' the actress list.

Ranked #29 in the 2010 FHM UK list of "100 Sexiest Women in the World".

Was ranked #26 on Empire Magazine's '100 Sexiest Movie Stars' (2007).

Named #1 on 'Sexiest Movie Stars" Poll on Empire Magazine voted by over 50 000 people around the world.

She was considered to voice Coraline Jones in "Coraline", which later went to Dakota Fanning.

Salaries

Beauty and the Beast (2017) - $15,000,000

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (2011) - $15,000,000

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010) - $15,000,000

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007) - $4,000,000

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004) - $125,000

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002) - $125,000

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (2001) - $125,000

[pixeldistractions]

After that conversation, Jordan just felt defeated all around. He decided to call it a day at the adventure park and retreat to his humble home on wheels to finish a few modifications. He was building bunks in the back bedroom for the kids.

He texted his boys independently of Colette. He wanted them to know that they could come any time, that they were not forgotten. He was naive, maybe, to think that Colette would work with him on this. He hoped they might have been allowed to visit for a weekend by now.

These climbing classes ran through November. That was another six weeks on top of the six he’d already been away, and that wasn’t soon enough for nine-year-olds. He felt like he was doing so much wrong. But what was the alternative?

A phone call broke his work. It wasn’t Maria. It wasn’t Colette, either. It was Milo.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I wanted to tell you before Mom does. I got a detention.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want to tell me about it?”

“It’s just because my homework, and—”

“Hang up,” Colette demanded, storming into the room.

“He doesn’t have to hang up,” Jordan said, but she couldn’t hear him, and Milo couldn’t hear, either. She’d already swiped the phone. And then she hung up.

Colette regretted letting the boys have phones. It didn’t seem a choice these days—all the kids had them—but she didn’t feel wrong for regulating their usage on her own terms.

“Go downstairs and start that homework,” she ordered. “I want to see progress when I come down.”

Jordan redialed, and the call went straight to voicemail. She must have turned the phone off. All Jordan could do was sit there in the dust and fume.

He didn’t think she’d be so obstinate. And maybe that made him a fool, because of course Colette intended to be as obstinate as possible. She seemed determined to fight every possible thing there was to fight, and he knew she wasn’t always this unreasonable. She allowed him to take the boys backpacking in Canada last summer. But now she won’t let them come out to Nevada for a weekend? Because she was mad and she could.

He was pretty sure he had some rights, but he’d need a lawyer to find out what those rights were. And lawyers cost money, which he was quickly running out of.

Colette took her time walking across the short hallway to her own bedroom. She sat on her bed and called Jordan back.

“He got a detention, you know. He isn’t doing his homework anymore. It’s weeks behind. Seems like he thinks his father is okay with ditching his responsibilities, so that’s what he’ll do, too.”

“Give his phone back. Let him call me.”

“It’s too late,” Colette said. “It’s a school night and he doesn’t have his homework done.”

“So he needs his homework done to talk to his dad?”

“You’re not here, you don’t make the rules. Stop undermining me.”

“Stop making this so difficult,” Jordan said.

“I’m making this difficult?! You fucking left! You left us—them, you left them.”

“It’s not like that,” Jordan said. “I’ll have them any time. I’d have them now, this weekend, whenever. They get a break for Thanksgiving, and they get another long weekend at the end of the month. Sierra Nova has a direct connection from Chicago. I’ll buy the tickets.”

“Damn right, you will.”

“Okay, fine, then let them come out.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Colette said. “Get an apartment. Get a lawyer. Get custody. Then, when all that’s done, you can pay for the train tickets and you can have them.”

“It’s up to you, you know,” Jordan said, his teeth gritted. “It’s entirely your fault they’re not out here. We could cooperate. Plenty of people co-parent and cooperate without making it a huge war. Or you can just have it your way like you always do.”

Yes, actually, she did intend to have it her way. Should she feel sorry about that?

“I’m going on a date, by the way,” Colette said, with a smug grin. “He’s a doctor. An emergency trauma surgeon. He sounds very successful.”

“Is it important for me to know that he’s a doctor, or are you just being as mean as possible?”

“If you feel bad about him being a doctor, then that’s your problem.”

She hung up on him, unwilling to let him have the last word.

— from “boxes and squares #4.1: first fall apart” (3/5)

a little story note: because this is a fringe lifestyle that I’m a little obsessed with, lol! Legally, in the USA, it’s 100% fine to house your kids in a camper, even full-time. When public schools get involved, it’s a little more complicated, which is why most nomadic families choose to homeschool their kids. On principle though, Colette is just being a stinker. I’m not a lawyer, of course, but from my handy-dandy internet research, the way it works with custody is that two parents can cooperate and decide whatever they want for their kids if they agree with each other. And plenty of parents do that all the time without lawyers and courts. Maybe Jordan was a little naive to hope that he and Colette might be one of those ex-couples who can have a civilized conversation and compromise. 😬

Next ->

[paisholotus]

Be Something Greater

Now Playing: I feel like I'm drowning~ Two Feet

Narrative

Vivica Robertson , now 24, stands by her car looking up at the house. She can see Bruce in the window. She gives a small wave. Bruce returns Vivica's wave. He then finishes loading his gun. Bruce walks down the drive to Vivica. He smiles gently.

"Hey, love, how are you?" She asked, hugging him tightly. He wraps his arms around her waist and hummed taking in her scent. "You still trying to get kicked out of the entire ivy league." She asked, pulling away. Bruce shakes head, smiling, "Turns out you don’t actually need a degree to do the international playboy thing." Vivica playfully scoffed, "playboy my ass. Don't make me get you." She laughed looking down at her shoes.

"Bruce, I don’t suppose there’s anyway I can convince you not to come" she said, lowly, looking into his eyes sadly. Bruce looks at her coldly. "I'm going to this proceeding stand for my parents." He said, glaring down at her. "Bruce, you know I loved your parents. What Chill did is unforgivable." She said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Then why is your boss letting him go." He asked, folding his arms. Vivica dropped her hand and looked at him shocked, "what?" She mumbled. Bruce shakes his head, opens the car door. She gets in the car heading towards the golden spires of Gotham.

"Love, I swear I didn't know that. I promise. I would have asked him about it if I knew. I'm sorry." Bruce stares out the window in silence and nods. Vivica pulls into the parking lot of the courthouse. Bruce looks at her through the strained silence. "Viv, this man killed my parents. I cannot let that pass." Vivica almost says something but doesn't. She leans over and kisses his lips softly, cupping his jaw. She pulls away slowly and looked into those blue eyes that held pain and anger. "I love you, Bubba." He cups her cheeks and smiled lowly. "I love you too. But, I need you to understand." He said, almost pleading.

Vivica looks at Bruce and nods grabbing his hand. Bruce nods back. Vivica opens her door and starts getting out. Bruce slips out his gun, placing it on the ground behind the front wheel of Vivica's car as he gets out. A small bureaucratic proceeding. A five person Panel. Brucesits amongst the observers. Watching the back of Vivica's bosses head, she glares at the man as she squeezes Bruce’s hand.

Finch, addresses the panel. "Finch given the exemplary prison record of Mr.Chill, the 14 years already served and his extraordinary level of cooperation with one of this office’s most important investigations... we strongly endorse Mr.Chill’s petition for early release." The lawyer said. The Chairman nods, consults his paperwork.

"Chairman, a member of the Wayne family is here today..." Bruce studies his weathered face. Vivica also glares at the man, as she rubs her thumb over Bruce’s knuckles. Does he have anything to say?" The chairman asked. Chill notices Wayne’s cold eyes. Has to look away.

Bruce rises, walks out, all eyes on him. Including Vivica's. Vivica looks at Bruce confused as they walked out. Bruce moves to vivica’s car. Picks up his gun, stuffs it up the sleeve of his overcoat. Waits. Vivica looked down at Bruce’s sleeve despite the commotion her heart dropped as she looked at him, her eyes welling up. The side exit opens and two cops come out. A shout goes up from the press men around the front of the courthouse.

"They're taking him out the side!!" They yelled. Reporters swarm around the building as Chill emerges. "Joe! Hey Joe!!" Someone yelled. This one catches Chill’s eye- blonde, local t.v. type. Bruce’s hand drops to his side as he moves... he’s breathing heavy... thinking... deciding...

Vivica steps in front of Bruces gun and looked him dead in his eyes. She stared at him and slowly grabbed the gun putting it in her bag. Her heart was completely broken. It's one thing to be angry at that man, but to make up for it by killing him. Wouldn't be something he'll be able to take back. And, it's not the Bruce Vivica knows or grew up with.

"Falcone says hi!!" She thrusts a gun at Chill’s chest and fires. Chill drops to the ground. Bruce and Vivica stop in their tracks. Reporters dive for cover. Cops jump on the blonde reporter, pinning her...Bruce stands fifteen feet away. Face asuncomprehending as the night. Chill killed his parents. Vivica moves to Bruce, pulling him away from the chaos.

"Come one, Bruce. Come on, we don’t need to see this." She says, as they get in the car and leave. Bruce sits there, hands in his lap staring out the window. Vivica glances over at him, then pulls over and turns to him. "Are you okay, Bubba?" She asked gently. "All these years I wanted to kill him. Now he’s gone. Now I can’t." Vivica looked at him feeling herself getting angry.

"You don’t mean that." She said thickly. Bruce looked at her bitterly. "What if I do, Vivica? Chill killed my parents.They deserved justice!" Vivica looks at him, appalled. "You’re not talking about justice, you’re talking about fucking revenge. And, this isn't you talking." She said angerly. "Sometimes they’re the same." She scoffs and shook her head, laughing in disbelief. She looked at him with a serious glare.

"They’re never the same, Bruce.Justice is about harmony... revenge is about you making yourself feel better in that moment. That’s why we have animpartial system. IF YOU WOULD HAVE KILLED HIM YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN NO BETTER THAN THE MONSTER THAT MURDERED YOUR PARENTS!" She yelled.

Vivica pulls out into the street. "Well, your system of justice is broken-" Bruce starts to say but is cut off. "Don’t you tell me the system’s broken, Bruce! I’m out here everyday trying to fix it while you mope around using your grief as an excuse to do nothing.You care about justice..?" Vivica yanks the wheel. Vivica's car screeches across two lanes, onto an exit ramp.

The streets below are dark, crowded and threatening. "Look beyond your own pain, Bruce." Vivica gestures at the filthy streets. Down dark the alleys shadowy figures conduct business. "This city is rotting. Chill is not the cause, he’s the effect. Corruption is killing Gotham and Chill being dead doesn’t help that it makes it worse because Falcone walks. He carries on flooding our city with crime and drugs...creating new Joe Chills... Falcone may not have killed your parents,Bruce, but he’s destroying everything they stood for..." She mumbled, stopping the car.

They pull up in front of a basement club. "They all know where to find Falcone..." She gestures at club. "But no one will touch him because he keeps the bad people rich and the good people scared." She says looking at Bruce. "And, what chance does Gotham have when the good people do nothing?" She whispered, poking him in the chest.

Bruce looks down at her finger. "I’m not one of your "good people", Vivica. Chill took that from me." Vivica looks at Bruce then slaps him. Bruce does nothing. Vivica slaps him again and again... Nothing. She stops. Tears flowing.

"You’re no better than the rest." Vivica points at the gun. Looks into Bruce’s eyes. "I don't know who the hell I'm looking at." She huffs as tears falls down her cheeks. "You're not Bruce Wayne. You're not my bubba. Your father would be ashamed of you." Bruce stares at Vivica feeling like he just lost another part of him. He opens his door, but is stopped when he is pulled back in the car. Vivica looks into his eyes and lays her forehead against his. They looked into each other's eyes knowing it was over. But, he understood what she was saying. 'I love you.'

Bruce watches Vivica's car disappear. Turns to look at the line of ships in the harbor. He makes his way to the water. Takes out his gun. Turns it, the light off it's metal. Bruce, with contempt, flings his gun into the black water. Bruce turns and looks around, a homeless man warming himself at a flaming oil drum.

One of many homeless clustered around the docks. "Round here dressed like that, means you got something to prove. Man with something to prove is dangerous." The homeless man said. Bruce stares at the man. Thinking. Takes out his wallet removes the money, hands it to the homeless man.

"For what?" The man asked confused. "Your jacket." Bruce drops his wallet into the fire. The homeless man laughs. Bruce pulls off his tie, throws it into the fire. He pulls off his overcoat. Bruce looks at the homeless man, who has removed his own. They exchange clothing. "Be careful who sees you with that. They’re gonna come looking for me." Bruce said smiling.

Bruce wanders the stacks. A horn sounds. Bruce’s eyes lock onto the ship preparing to leave. Bruce runs towards it through the shadows...

"Sometimes you have to leave to find yourself or to do something better."

[mariacallous]

Britain is burning. The recent weeks of far-right riots have seen mobs assembling outside mosques and hotels housing asylum-seekers; the burning of public libraries; and an uptick in targeted racist violence and vandalism. Sparked by the tragic deadly stabbings of three young girls in the town of Southport, the incident has been sickeningly exploited by anti-immigrant and anti-Muslim groups, which have spread disinformation online and garnered support from prominent far-right figures.

Less than two months after a new Labour government took office, the issue of immigration has already taken center stage. Prime Minister Keir Starmer now faces the steep challenge of tackling the root causes of Britain’s toxic relationship with immigration.

For years now, the issue of immigration has been at the heart of the British predicament, and in the wake of Brexit, the normalization of far-right rhetoric has increasingly embedded itself in Britain’s media and political landscape.

The Labour Party must not be blown off course by the recent riots. It should instead capitalize on this moment—using it to carve out a new, humane immigration policy.

Even though Starmer’s government has pledged to increase the number of deportations of those who do not have the right to stay in the country, there have been some important changes to Britain’s immigration policies since Labour came into power.

Most prominently, on the first day of his premiership, Starmer scrapped the controversial Rwanda bill that entailed sending asylum-seekers from the United Kingdom to the East African nation. Introduced by former Prime Minister Boris Johnson in 2022, many considered the policy to be a cynical maneuver rather than a serious solution to address the country’s broken immigration system. New Home Secretary Yvette Cooper called it “a complete con,” which she told Parliament had cost the British taxpayers 700 million pounds (about $918.4 million)—a considerable sum of money given that no asylum-seeker ever set foot in Rwanda.

Perhaps the only enduring image of this failed Rwanda policy was a photo of the Conservative Party’s former Home Secretary Suella Braverman joyfully laughing in a center in Rwanda meant to house asylum-seekers. The daughter of immigrant parents who migrated to Britain from East Africa celebrating her “dream” of sending vulnerable asylum-seekers to one of the most repressive African countries was a stark symbol of the cruel and ineffective anti-migrant policies of the recent Tory era.

Last month, after Starmer spoke about “resetting” Britain’s approach to immigration in a way that respects international human rights standards, Labour also announced plans to permanently shut down the controversial Bibby Stockholm, a barge moored off the coast of Dorset that is used to hold asylum-seekers. In a surprise appointment, Starmer then chose Richard Hermer, a distinguished human rights lawyer who began his career at famed human rights firm Doughty Street Chambers, as his attorney general.

Another sign of change at the Home Office is that it now refers to migrants as “irregular” rather than “illegal,” a term routinely used under Tory governments that implied criminality and reinforced harmful stereotypes.

This is the sort of humane approach that Britain needs—only a much larger scale. Though these small changes were announced before the recent riots began, the question remains whether the Labour Party—even with its dark past—has the courage to transform Britain’s troubled relationship with immigration going forward. A lasting solution would address the spread of deceptive disinformation aimed at sowing hatred while also advocating for a truly compassionate and ethical immigration system.

For instance, Starmer could officially repeal the Illegal Migration Act, which was passed in July last year by the Tory-led government. The law allowed the government to deny the right of asylum to migrants who had arrived in the U.K. irregularly. It stated that the government could instead detain and deport refugees to their home countries or “safe” third countries (such as Rwanda). The controversial law was criticized by several human rights groups as well as the United Nations, which described it as an “asylum ban” that penalized vulnerable refugees by effectively closing off safe and legal pathways for those escaping persecution, violence, or conflict. Although the International Rescue Committee reports that the Labour Party has “effectively ended” enforcement of the law, it remains on the books.

In addition to scrapping the Tory-era act, the Labour government should also look to tackle the backlog of asylum cases. According to the latest Home Office data, there are more than 118,000 people waiting for an initial decision on their asylum applications. To truly bring down these figures, Starmer will need to do a lot more to reform a broken system that leaves thousands of vulnerable people trapped in destitution.

His government can seek real improvements in the asylum process by expanding safe routes, ensuring fair hearings, and demonstrating compassion and humanity. To focus on longer-term solutions, Starmer should prioritize Britain’s efforts to address the root causes of the global conflicts that drive many people to make perilous journeys in the first place.

Beyond repairing the asylum system, the Labour government could also uphold the rights of Britons of migrant background by revoking the Nationality and Borders Act that was passed in 2022, which creates a two-tiered system of citizenship, making naturalized British citizens—such as myself—second-class citizens.

The act grants the state the power to strip Britons of citizenship without giving them notice. This extreme measure makes Britain an outlier among liberal democracies—and unfairly targets its own citizens, especially British Muslims, even if their families have been in the country for generations.

Citizenship-stripping powers are not new in the United Kingdom, having been weaponized by both Labour and Tory administrations post-9/11. In the past two decades, hundreds of Britons have been stripped of their citizenships.

As the historian Hannah Arendt famously said, “citizenship is the right to have rights,” and the British state has weaponized citizenship in the name of security. Starmer has a rare opportunity to fix this.

Finally, Labour’s immigration policies ought to focus on the most vulnerable and impacted group: unaccompanied children. A recent data investigation conducted by Lost in Europe, a cross-border journalism collective, found that across 13 European countries, including Germany and Italy, more than 50,000 unaccompanied child migrants went missing between 2021 and 2023.

Though the British Home Office is yet to release specific numbers regarding the United Kingdom (despite a pending Freedom of Information Act request), we know that unaccompanied minors migrating to Britain remain at increased risk of gang recruitment, workplace exploitation, and modern slavery.

Another report conducted by a group of nongovernmental organizations earlier this year showed that hundreds of child refugees who had experienced abuse and violence were often placed in adult prisons after the Home Office wrongly assessed their ages. To make matters worse, British tabloids often disregard or question the ages of migrant children—making a mockery of the country’s laws intended to safeguard the identities of minors, especially those in search of safety.

These depictions of migrants in Britain have dangerous consequences, and they often act as a precursor to discrimination and violence. Britain has been here before.

More than 24 years after the infamous Oldham riots of 2001, which saw a brief period of racial rioting in a town near Manchester that spurred on the country’s far right, Britain has yet to learn from its mistakes.

The easy talk of race and civil war—most recently invoked by Elon Musk—plays into standard far-right tropes about the country, but the reality is that Britain has absorbed migrants much more effectively than many of its European neighbors, and its capital is largely a tolerant and multiethnic place. This is a story that is rarely told by irresponsible media figures and politicians who have whipped up far-right extremists for far too long.

As a member of Parliament, Starmer represents the Holborn and St Pancras seat, one of the most diverse areas in inner-city London. My family arrived in this constituency as refugees from Somalia almost 30 years ago. I grew up on a council estate in Camden next to pretty, tree-lined Edwardian terraced houses worth millions. It was a place of poverty and friendship—a place where Irish, Bangladeshi, Kosovar, and Somali kids mixed together, speaking multicultural London English, listening to garage music, playing soccer, and drinking in local pubs.

There were tensions when I was growing up—for example, in Somers Town, where I went to school in the mid-1990s. The fascist, far-right British National Party (BNP) tried to capitalize on the tragic killing of Richard Everitt, a white boy, in 1994 by a group of Bangladeshi boys. At one point, a far-right mob firebombed halal butchers on a street lined with Asian shops. But the incident had no real long-term impact, and the community moved on.

While these recent riots may hark back to those days, unlike the BNP of the 1990s, these disparate far-right groups have far more power today. They are bolstered by social media algorithms and support from online extremists, established media, and some of the billionaires who operate those very platforms. They systematically spread their hate.

It is these forces that seek to warp and destabilize British culture rather that the tiny minority of asylum-seekers and larger group of regular migrants who seek to make their lives in Britain. Labour must not fall into their trap and let British democracy be undermined.