#Executor responsibilities

[dc-probate-attorney]

Four More Ways to Stop Inheritance Theft in Your Family

In our previous post, we talked about some ways you can prevent inheritance theft in your family. Since there are so many ways this type of theft can occur, the steps to take to prevent this from happening can vary. If you have a strained relationship with a parent or live a long distance away, it can be difficult to get access to many of the documents we mentioned in our previous post. There are…

[willsandtrusts]

How to Choose the Right Executor for Your Will

Learn how to choose the right executor for your will to ensure your estate is managed efficiently and fairly. Discover key qualities to look for and the steps to appointing a trustworthy executor. Secure your legacy with expert advice from Wills & Trusts Wealth Management. Contact us today.

[gachaparadise]

*head in hands* why is it every time i'm randomly like yeah i'll get back into AK it's time for a sad goat time.

[mrs-gauche]

Yeah, I'm super curious about this as well! I'd also like to know how exactly Rook chose to get involved in all this in the first place before the Veilguard is even a thing. lol

Because if I was going about my daily life and then one day two dwarves would come up to me in a tavern and tell me that the world is going to end in like 5 hours and you gotta help us stop that elven god who btw created the Veil and now wants to destroy it but he's actually a nice guy, like he was our buddy 10 years ago, we're just gonna talk to him, it's complicated...... my first reaction would probably be more like asking if they had maybe too much of those purple cactus berries they talked about in DAI.

Still thinking about the ‘Rook is here because they chose to be’ sentiment…. Why do they want to be leading the Veilguard? Why do they have so much of a personal stake in this?

[kaleschmidt]

bahhhh it's so surreal seeing an old fandom blog i used to post a lot about because like. you could def tell i loved creating content for it and shit. I really owuld love to get back into it, but the creators, fandom, n canon stuff just make me mad now

[halyasgirl]

I have no idea if Silco left a will, but I imagine Sevika would have a hell of a time as executor if he did...

Sevika, reading: "After my death it is my wish that my body be thrown into the canal in hopes that it will lure the largest, most terrifyingly eldritch creature from the depths to fuck with the Topsiders. I leave all my assets and worldly possessions to my beloved daughter Jinx, yes Sevika, even if she's responsible for my death?!"

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Law-Related Vocabulary

for your poem/story (pt. 1/4)

Acquiescence - acceptance, compliance, or submitting tacitly or passively

Act of God - an extraordinary natural event (as a flood or earthquake) that cannot be reasonably foreseen or prevented

Amicus curiae - friend of the court

Bad faith - intentional deception, dishonesty, or failure to meet an obligation or duty

Bill of pains and penalties - a legislative act formerly permitted that imposed a punishment less severe than death without benefit of a judicial trial

Blackacre - a fictitious piece of real property

Causa mortis - made or done in contemplation of one's impending death

Cool state of blood - an emotional condition in which a person's anger or passion is not great enough to overcome his or her faculties or ability to reason—often used in statutory definitions of murder

Depraved-heart murder - a murder that is the result of an act which is dangerous to others and shows that the perpetrator has a depraved mind and no regard for human life

Dereliction - an intentional abandonment

Executrix - a woman who is an executor

Expunge - to cancel out or destroy completely

Extraordinary remedy - a procedure for obtaining judicial relief allowed when no other method is available, appropriate, or useful

Ferae naturae - wild by nature; not usually tamed

Fighting words - words which by their very utterance are likely to inflict harm on or provoke a breach of the peace by the average person to whom they are directed

Fifth degree - the grade sometimes given to the least serious form of a crime

Fruit of the poisonous tree - evidence that is inadmissible under an evidentiary exclusionary rule because it was derived from or gathered during an illegal action

Gift causa mortis - a gift of especially personal property made in contemplation of impending death that is delivered with the intent that the gift take effect only in the event of the donor's death and that it be revoked in the event of survival

Hot blood - heat of passion; an agitated state of mind (as anger or terror) prompted by provocation sufficient to overcome the ability of a reasonable person to reflect on and control his or her actions

Inveigle - to lure by false representations or other deceit

Lucri causa - intent to obtain a gain

Mystic will - in the civil law of Louisiana; a will signed, sealed, witnessed, and notarized according to statutory procedure; called also mystic testament, secret testament

Naked promise - gratuitous promise

Obligor - one who is bound by an obligation to another

Penumbra - an area within which distinction or resolution is difficult or uncertain

Quaere - question—usually used to introduce a question

Recusant - refusing to submit to authority

Solatium - compensation for grief or wounded feelings (as from the wrongful death of a relative)

Third degree - the grade given to the third most serious forms of crimes

Uberrimae fidei - of the utmost or perfect good faith

Vitiate - to make ineffective

Word of art - a word having a particular meaning in a field; also called "term of art"

X - a mark used in place of a signature when the maker is incapable of signing his or her name (as because of illiteracy or a physical ailment)

Year-and-a-day rule - a common-law rule that relieves a defendant of responsibility for homicide if the victim lives for more than one year and one day after being injured (Note: This rule dates from at least 1278, and is frequently criticized as anachronistic since modern medicine makes pinpointing cause of death easier than it was formerly. However, the rule still exists or is reflected in the law of some jurisdictions.)

Zone of danger - the area within which one is in actual physical peril from the negligent conduct of another person

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Law-Related Words ⚜ Word Lists

[genshin-impact-updates]

Righteous Enforcer of the Law

"...Captain Chevreuse, once again I implore you, we must tighten up the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol's entry requirements. Right now, we count among our members petty crooks who have burgled all over the Court of Fontaine, street fighters whose only concern is getting rich, and even a bandit whose band of cronies almost succeeded in robbing a bank! If you hadn't personally caught him red-handed — scoping the place out under the guise of being an investor — they might very well have pulled it off... For pity's sake, we're supposed to be the Maison Gardiennage! Even if just to preserve our image, please consider doing something!"

— The ninth in a series of pleading letters sent to Chevreuse by Captain Grosrochard of the Gardes

◆ Name: Chevreuse

◆ Title: Executor of Justice

◆ Special Security and Surveillance Patrol Captain

◆ Vision: Pyro

◆ Constellation: Sclopetum Ensiferum

"Behave yourself or the Patrol will get you!"

— A warning often issued to naughty Fontainian children from exasperated parents.

Of course, those children are too young to understand how ridiculous such a thought is — that you might be dragged off by the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol for going to bed too late, eating snacks after brushing your teeth, or getting bad grades. In reality, the only people that the Patrol are really after are notorious criminals. As children grow older and come to learn this, these warnings quickly lose their effect.

...But some members of the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol can't help but resent this type of "education" when they notice children on the street quietly slipping away as they approach. As they see it, painting such a picture of the Patrol couldn't be more inappropriate. If people are allowed to keep saying such things, then the Patrol's infamous reputation will loom like a shadow over the children of Fontaine, and who knows how long it will stay there?

"What's wrong with that?"

This was Special Security and Surveillance Patrol Captain Chevreuse's response as she sat there dealing with official documents.

"I hope they'll always remember our 'infamous reputation,' and understand the meaning behind it..."

"...That way, perhaps there won't need to come a day when I have to drag them away for real."

[shoujo-wizard]

Bewitched by Yuletide p.2 🍳

[Hallmark movie AU steddie A/B/O ft kitchen witch Steve & former rockstar Eddie, O!Steve/A!Eddie]

[some O!Steve pov & backstory as well as A!Robin backstory too]

🎸p.1

when Steve was 13 he went through his very first heat. when Steve was 13 his alpha father left him in the care of his grandpa for an entire summer that turned into an entire school year that turned into his father signing away his parental rights to Steve to his own parent in Steve's junior year at Hawkins High.

the adults never told him, but Steve deduced it was because he'd begun coming into his Talent. in the days after his first heat, before his father had driven him to Hawkins Indiana he would be completing his chores faster than he'd begun them. he'd know exactly who was about to ring the doorbell without ever looking out the window. Steve remembered the disgust on his father's face when Steve had correctly guessed what Richard Harrington had enjoyed eating most growing up without the topic ever being brought up. so Steve ended up raised by his remaining grandparent.

his omega grandpa Peter Harrington explained to him what was happening. he'd entered his 13th year, and that meant he began to be capable of things others weren't. apparently his grandpa's family, the Frumps, were a proud line of kitchen witches. Steve had evidently inherited the Talent. so as he grew into his Talents, Peter taught him everything he knew. Steve learned recipes & spells at his grandpa's elbow in the beautiful house his alpha grandma, the late Amelia Harrington, had bought just for her mate.

Steve learned how to start the autumn with a perpetual stew that would seemingly have no end till spring using the talents his grandpa helped him develop. his simmer pots only grew more fragrant as years went by. in the spring & summers he learned how to use his Talents in a way tht helped the vegetable garden flourish, even though neither were a green witch. his grandpa had beamed with pride telling him tht he was an even more powerful kitchen witch than his great-grandma Eva. as he got older, he was given more responsibilities in the kitchen. the different holidays became times for his grandpa to test his Talent as he neared high school graduation.

then the summer after he graduated, as he prepared to attend classes at the Roane County Community College, his grandpa Peter had a heart attack in his sleep. as the executor of estate Steve was in charge of too much concerning the death. he buried his grandpa five days later, many people who'd known Peter Harrington came to help Steve celebrate a life well lived, many people brought him casseroles, many people gave their condolences, many people told Steve stories he'd never heard.

Richard Harrington never picked up the phone or answered the voicemail Steve left him. Richard Harrington never responded to the second voicemail Steve left him informing him that Peter Harrington had written him out of his will, that Steve was now the sole inheritor of the entire Harrington fortune his grandma had worked so hard to build, and his grandpa had worked so hard to preserve.

his grandpa Peter taught him many things as a witch. that his Talent was his to manifest, his to explore, his to expand. that his heart was bursting with love, and that wasn't a weakness. he taught him that life continues on, time does not stop, the seasons will always change, and that the dead will never forget the living.

at his grandpa's funeral Steve met someone who told him stories about his grandpa when he was a Home Economics teacher at Hawkins High. Wayne Munson was a gruff alpha who looked stoic, but his manner of speaking was gentle. Steve could see the genuine kindness Wayne radiated, and he was grateful when Wayne came by the house that was now Steve's with ingredients for a sweet corn and cucumber salad. Steve sipped cold water with crushed mint while Wayne cooked. Grandpa Peter's favorite vinyl was playing in the living room, Cass Elliot's 1973 album titled Mama's Big Ones.

time went on, seasons changed, Steve started a weekly tradition of having Wayne over for Sunday dinner. he started classes at the community college, got very invested in a history class about textiles, and in the community college's library he always sat silently at the same table as another student. she was a trans feminine alpha who'd chosen the name Robin, she had moved to Hawkins for community college after graduating from high school a year early. they ended up locked in the libraries gender-neutral bathroom when the door got stuck, it was during finals and the library was open two hours longer. as they waited for the night janitor they bonded about grandparents, about parents that weren't equipped to accept them in their entirety, and Robin even confessed she only found other alpha women attractive.

Afterward they became two halves of a whole. Robin joined Sunday dinners. She spent more time sleeping over at Steve's home than she did at the apartment above her grandparent's bookstore. Robin told him that her family had owned the only bookstore in Hawkins since 1810, making it the oldest bookstore in the state of Indiana. when Steve told her he's a kitchen witch she lit up with questions after a moment of disbelief. Robin eagerly joined him in all the pagan holiday traditions his grandpa had taught him. they agreed their mutual favorite was Yuletide with Samhain as a close second. then when they learned they shared a birthday June 13th became a joint birthday celebration from then on.

when Robin's grandma died in hospice their final year at community college, Steve was the person she leaned on. she moved in with him, unable to enter the apartment without being overcome with paralyzing grief but determined to keep the bookstore going. when her insensitive beta mother came to town for the funeral Steve stood by her, helped her keep her ground against her mother's attempts to take control of the business and building left to Robin in the will. Robin's alpha father ended up being the one to silence Beatrice Buckley nee Smith by laying it out that Robin had legally inherited the building including the store as well as the majority of the contents of the apartment, that Robin might be young, but she had a good head on her shoulders. that they had no right to demand anything of her after how they'd reacted to her transition. George Buckley didn't chase after his wife when she stormed out, he apologized to his daughter for the way he shut down when she came out to them, he watched as his wife drove off back to their hotel, and after asking to rebuild their relationship he confessed he was going to serve Beatrice divorce papers. Robin cried as she hugged her dad, sobbed harder when he told her how beautiful self-love looked on her.

Wayne came by after the funeral, joined the three of them for dinner. he and George shared stories from high school. Wayne told Robin stories about the many times her grandparents had taken one look at him, a kid with two working parents, a kid who'd been charged with caring for his rambunctious rebellious little brother, and they'd given him books for half the price they were worth.

George Buckley moved back to Hawkins following the divorce. back into the apartment he'd grown up in, he worked in the store as assistant manager, he joined their Sunday dinners, and he made efforts to implement the vision Robin had of the bookstore being a safe space.

then one day while Steve was perusing the shelves of the bookstore even though it was his day off from the store. he looked out the store windows at the sound of Wayne's truck pulling up to the bank across the street. when he saw Wayne fall he let out a yell, and while Robin called for an ambulance he was running across the main street to sit with Wayne till the ambulance arrived. at the hospital he listened carefully to everything the doctor said about caring for the concussion Wayne had ended up with. Robin helped him take Wayne home to his tree farm filled with fir trees, the majority being douglas fir.

the day after he'd been home for a full day Wayne called to let Steve know his nephew had come to stay with him. Steve laughed when Wayne relayed the message to make sure he made enough for four for dinner that night.

Steve drove Robin and him to Wayne's after they locked up the bookstore for the night. George had to give their inventory orders a final review so he'd declined to join them. they pulled up, and Steve noticed the shiny red car that was left running with the driver's door open. as he cradled the ancient dutch oven in his hands, Robin turned the car, and shut the door. before they went inside Steve made a come hither motion with his hand at the car thinking how nice it'd be for the nephew's many bags to b unloaded.

upon entering Steve spared not a single glance for the nephew standing to greet them, determined to begin cooking because they'd stayed later at the bookstore than usual. he pulled off his scarf and coat. then pulled the canvas bags of ingredients out of the dutch oven. he heard Robin starting a conversation with Wayne. Steve was unpacking the ingredients when suddenly the smell of cedar and tobacco filled his nose. he looked up from pulling out the bread he'd made to go with the pumpkin soup he had planned, and standing in the doorway was Wayne's nephew.

Steve knew, he knew as soon as his nose had registered cedar and tobacco. Grandpa Peter told him that all witches would have one great love in their lifetime. Steve always assumed his platonic love for Robin was his, but he knew then he'd been wrong.

because as soon as the nephew introduced himself as Eddie Munson, Steve knew that this alpha was the man who would either cherish his heart or break it.

---

@lexirosewrites this is part 2 that i've written special for slick sunday this month. it was a wonderful distraction from, well, Everything TM. I'm thinking i'll keep adding to this every month on slick sunday till i feel this little ficlet series has reached a satifying conclusion. i think i'll even open myself up to creating a tag list for this series, spaces will b limited as my adhd can only handle so many details at once.

@manda-panda-monium @awkwardgravity1

yall get to b the first two of this tag list. write in the replies if you'd like me to tag you when i post part 3 next month. i will let the tag list get to 20 accounts & no more

don't let despair rule your life, going forward we have a lot of work to do, and we need a means to recharge as we fight to maintain our freedoms. idk what the future of fic in this country will b if project 2025 gets to censor queer media by banning ao3, but if it comes to it we can do as the fans before us did: mailing lists, zines, and more now that we have the internet.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hawkins Confidential Part 1 of ?

Read on AO3

Steddie; other minor pairings; omegaverse; 1990s

Richard Harrington is dead and finally, as Steve's husband, Tommy is set to inherit quite a lot. Unfortunately for him, there is a condition in the will and that means Steve has to contact the true sire of his pup, Eddie. aka here's that soap opera au i've been wanting to do >:3c

The organ droned as people walked up solemnly and gave their respects.The air was stale except for the few who went without scent blockers, children mostly. And not everyone in high society thought it was prudent to hide their scent. Steve was one of them.

“Everyone can smell your grief”, his mother whispered as she leaned over. 

“I’m grieving. It’s a funeral”, Steve whispered back.

“I know you didn’t care for your father that much. It’s perfectly natural to care about your child but Dustin still has breath in his lungs, thank God. Your father deserves to at least have your respect in death.” She whipped her fan open and fanned herself and Steve knew that was the end of that conversation.

When the procession moved to the grave plot, Steve walked with his mother on one side and his husband Tommy on the other. Tommy had his arm around Steve’s shoulder. A show of solidarity. His father was laid to rest and Steve had a sliver of hope that the leash around his neck would finally loosen.

“It’s our time now, Stevie”, Tommy murmured in his ear.

And Steve knew what that meant. The three of them, his mother, Tommy, and he went to meet with the executor of his father’s will. There wasn’t anything in it that surprised Steve. His mother got what she expected and so did Steve. 

“And to my son-in-law Thomas, who has graciously taken the Harrington name, per our agreement, I leave the entirety of my shares of Harrington Industries, along with my land ownings and the houses in California and Virginia. All this is yours, provided you have had a healthy heir with my son Steven.”

Tommy smirked. Smug and just barely holding back from whooping with glee. He was not wearing blockers so everyone in the room could smell it.

“Well, that’s that, isn’t it?”, Tommy said. “Where do I sign?”

“Not so fast, Mr. Harrington”, the executor held up a withered hand. “Richard Harrington specified a healthy heir. And as I understand, your son is in the hospital?”

Tommy’s smirk fell. “Yeah. But what of it? He’s gonna make a recovery!”

“And when he does, we may sign away. But until such a time…”, the old man trailed off to let Tommy fill in the blanks.

Steve didn’t want to think about his pup not getting better. If he lost his Dustin-

“What happens if they don’t have an heir?”, his mother asked.

“Should that happen, madam, your husband has outlined instructions that I am to keep concealed until it is certain that these two have failed their condition.”

Tommy grumbled all the way out of the office. They were on their way to the hospital. Steve visited everyday, but now he was sure Tommy’s coming along was just to see if Dustin’s health had improved. Steve smiled and nodded to the nurses he saw regularly. It felt almost like bad luck to see his pup when he was still wearing black from the funeral. But he had wanted to see him right away.

Steve could look at Dustin, pale and limp in the bed and knew he wasn’t getting any better. Tommy discussed at length with the doctor outside anyway. Steve could hear his husband getting more and more agitated even behind the closed door. He chose to ignore it for now, grabbing Dustin’s hand and rubbing his knuckles.

“We said goodbye to grandpa today. Everyone came out to see him, even Aunt Seline and you know how she is.”

Of course, the unconscious boy wasn’t responsive. His chest moved up and down slowly. But that was it. Steve sniffed back tears and scent both Dustin and the little stuffed giraffe he kept under his pillow that he thought no one knew about. Steve put it back under the pillow right when Tommy opened the door and crooked his finger for Steve to come out into the hallway.

Steve obeyed with a sigh and walked out, closing the door just in time for Tommy to start raising his voice.

“I can’t believe this! First that cranio bullshit-”

“Cleidocranial dysplasia”, Steve corrected for what must be the millionth time.

“And now this!”, Tommy pressed on. “His genes are shit, Steve.”

“That’s your son!”, Steve hissed.

“That pup isn’t mine! He never fucking was!”

“You’ve been raising him for eight years and all of a sudden-”

“We need to have another child”, Tommy suddenly said.

The air left Steve’s lungs. “...H…what? What’re you-you’re not replacing my pup!”

“If he’s not going to make it-”

“He can! He could!” Steve’s heart was beating rapidly. “He needs an operation and a donor.”

“Then why the fuck haven’t we done that already?”, Tommy growled.

“Because my dad forbid me from contacting the only man who can do it”, Steve glared. “And you said it yourself that if I ever did you would leave me and Dustin out on the streets.”

Tommy looked conflicted, which was new for him. He didn’t always make the most noble decision, but he did always make it quickly. After a moment, he swallowed and nodded.

“Call him and get him here by the end of the week. Or you and I are going to have some marital duties to take care of.”

Steve sighed. The odds were against him and the clock was ticking. They went home together and Steve changed, hoping Chrissy would be at the country club today. He wore a red sweater to combat the fall chill and was glad to see her at her usual table. 

“Chrissy Carver, as I live and breathe”, Steve said, his greeting well practiced.

“Steve Harrington, I wasn’t expecting to see you here today. Come, sit”, she offered graciously.

Carol and Heather were seated too. Carol had been at the funeral. Heather too. Chrissy was the only one who had not attended.

“I’m sorry about your father. My condolences”, Chrissy said.

“She would have joined your family in mourning if she’d gotten an invitation”, Carol said before bringing her cup of coffee up to her lips to sip.

“And we would have appreciated the Carver’s presence”, Steve said. “But my mother…old grudges, you know.”

“I know”, Chrissy nodded with compassion.

“Actually, I was hoping I could talk with you about some of the student events coming up this semester. I think Dustin’s on the mend, which means he’ll be going back to school soon and I wouldn’t want any of the activities to be too strenuous for him.”

“Oh, we can absolutely talk about that”, Chrissy said. “And since this involves sensitive student info…ladies?”

Carol and Heather stood up and walked off, taking their coffees with them. Any other time, Steve would be wary of them finding out. But considering what he was really going to ask, he was sure his secret was safe with Chrissy.

“So what is this really about?”, Chrissy asked.

“I need you to tell me how to get into contact with Eddie.”

Chrissy’s eyes widened and she sat back in her chair. “Oh…wow I…I haven’t heard that name in a while. Steve, are you sure now is a good time?”

“Dustin might not have time if I wait any longer.”

Chrissy took her planner out of her pocketbook and wrote something down. “We don’t talk. Not really. But he keeps me up to date with his numbers just in case I….well, you know, just in case.” She tore the page out and handed it to Steve.

“I hope he answers.”

“He will”, Chrissy smiled, her eyes a little watery. “And don’t worry about the vultures. I’ll throw them off the trail.”

“Thank you”, Steve breathed out.

When he got home, he paced about the phone, trying to work up the courage before dialing. It rang and his heart jumped in his throat only to hear the voicemail message.

“You’ve reached Eddie Munson. I mean, you haven’t but you know what I mean. Leave a message or whatever.”

Steve scoffed, incredulous and hung up before dialing again. He clicked to leave a voicemail but all he could get out what “The nerve!”, before slamming the phone back down. Then he dialed again, knowing he had to leave more information than that.

“You’re a grown man, your outgoing message should be more professional than that, you might as well be using an air horn.” Click.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be berating you in the first place, that’s not why I called I…I wanted to tell you….” Click.

Steve moved from the bedroom to the kitchen. He was going to need more alcohol to make this call. He made his next call after two glasses. And then a few more after a full bottle. And then he decided to move on to beer. Steve was awakened the next day by the sound of their chef, Scott, coming on.

“Mr. Harrington, you’ve got to get up now.”

Steve groaned, his head swimming. Then he realized where he was and what time it was. 

“Oh god. Did Tommy?”

“He’s still asleep and he will be until he’s served breakfast. But you’ve got to get.”

Steve had enough sense to be sure Eddie’s number was still on him and not just lying around. Tommy might have urged him to call. But if he found out Steve had been drunk dialing him all night…he didn’t even want to think about it. He went upstairs to change and shower off the stench of beer and wine. He knew he must have really sounded like a fool and could only hope Eddie would parse through the nonsense and get his message.

-----------------------

Eddie was surprised to come that night to his phone blinking red, telling him he had messages. He was about to press the button, then refrained.

“It’s probably the shop. And I am off the clock.” He turned the tv on and kicked his feet up, lounging the night away and falling asleep on the couch.

The next morning, he woke up to the phone ringing and picked up. “Yeah? Yeah, hello? I’m up.”

“Hey, how satisfied are you with your current auto insurance?”

“Very”, Eddie said before hanging up. Damn telemarketers. That was probably who left a message yesterday. Eddie pressed the button to listen, ready to just start deleting when he heard that there were twelve new messages. That is until he heard the voice on the other end.

“You’re a grown man, your outgoing message should be more professional than that, you might as well be using an air horn.”

A bit snooty and bratty, just as he remembered it. And then they went on and there was that warmth he remembered too. And then he started to get sloppy and Eddie could tell he’d started drinking.

“The wine bottle’s empty and I don’t feel like goin to the cellar so beer it is. Remember, ‘member when you and I would drink? Do you still like Pabst Blue Ribbon?” Steve snickered on the line. “That time, that time you and I were drinkin’ and we ran out of-god I don’t even remember THAT beer-but we ran out so we a-started drinking PBR and then you panicked because you had your PBR and Wayne had his and we had drunk his and so we were gonna make beer cheese soup for him but then we had to use more PBR and we were high too so we thought Wayne was gonna kill us so we just sat in his room and waited to be punished?”

Eddie most certainly did remember nights like that. His chest tightened, wondering if Steve was just calling him because he felt nostalgic when-

“I can’t remember if I told you already why I’m calling. It’s uh…it’s your son. Our son.” Steve sniffed and took a deep breath. “He’s so beautiful Eddie. And I’m-I’m sorry that you haven’t gotten to see how amazing he is. He’s smart. Smart like you. He doesn’t get shit from me except being a wiseass and that’s mostly you too. But he….he’s sick. Our pup is dy-he’s not doing too well. He needs you. He needs a donor and you’re the only one who can help. You don’t have to worry about my father. He’s dead. Please. I know I fucked up but our baby deserves to live.”

That was the last message. Eddie hung up and then ran upstairs to start packing. It’d take him at least a day to get back to Indiana. But if he put the lead out, maybe he could cut it in half. 

“Time for a reunion.”

Part 2 coming soon

[onboardsorasora]

Maybe you have an au that works for this— but thinking about accidental baby acquisition maxiel. Like a “life as we know it” (the movie) AU where they have to adopt a kid, live together and suddenly make it work

Oh! Oh!!

BESTIE. This is...

I don't currently have a fic in the works like this but I honestly love this trope so much. There's a fic I read in my last fandom that did it sooooo lovely.

I will say, I don't remember this film but I read the summary and my brain lit up a little. I hope I'm not like scooping the finer plot points

I imagine they met because their mutual friends are together. Maybe they met originally at the wedding years ago and they're the childhood besties of their friends and get named God parents.

Fast forward maybe 3 years and something bad happens and their friends pass. And it's when they both realize that being named God parents meant that they're responsible for their godchild. Max knew but Daniel had no idea that it was so serious. He just thought it was an honour and now he's extra special uncle Daniel.

Let's say their friends had a son, Jack. And Max goes to the house to meet up with Jack's grandparents who ofc are grieving and don't want to give up their grandchild but Jack is supposed to be in Max's care.

He stays at the house, so Jack has some stability. Daniel comes the next day- he travelled all night. Jack runs to him when he gets inside and Daniel breaks down clutching this little boy to him.

Max offers coffee. Jack spent the night clutched into his chest and he's trying to not feel jealous that he's not clinging to Daniel.

They aren't friends. If anything maybe they didn't really get along during the wedding festivities. But it doesn't matter. They stay with Jack at the house while the grandparents plan the wakes and the funerals.

They both try to explain what it all means and argue about whether telling a 3yr old that death was like final was a good thing. They argue about a lot of things because Daniel believes in protecting Jack a little more about he harshness of the world and Max thinks that it's a bit pragmatic to not lie.

There wasn't really a will because Jacks parents were young and full of life. They couldn't have anticipated the car accident. So because of that any legal decisions made while alive count. Meaning Daniel and Max have full custody of Jack.

Daniel thinks they should allow his grandparents to take care of him. Max thinks they should honour their friend's wishes.

One pair of Jacks grandparents agree with him. Daniel figures they can agree to disagree. but they also can stay in the house with Jack for a little longer before they figure out next steps. Max is one of the executors of the estates and he has to go through all the paperwork and heavy shit.

Daniel watched Jack while Max is working. He spends a lot of time with the grandparents. Daniel moved away after uni and well, he works pretty remote so it's not a hardship to move back. At least until everything is sorted.

Max owns a business so paperwork and lawyers are things he knows. And when all is done he comes back to the house to spend time with Jack. And Daniel.

And it kinda continues like that, unconsciously. They don't like intend to become parental figures but they would do anything for Jack. And sure they still argue but they're happy to provide stability for their godson.

One of the grandparents suggests selling the house and it becomes a point of contention. Daniel disagrees. It's all Jack's known. They can't uproot him after everything.

Something something legalese that the only way to keep everything as it is now is for Daniel and Max to adopt Jack. And be his legal guardians. And the easiest way for that to happen is for them to get married.

Max agrees because fuck it. He'll do anything for Jack. Daniel agrees too because he loves the little shit. Jack is his best boy, his baby wayby. So they have a quick signing at the courthouse. No fandangles or fanfare. And they both completely move into the house.

And that's where things get dicey. Because it was fine before. When they were just friends with a mutual purpose but for some reason a title and a legal document has shifted something.

Max had always thought that Daniel was cute. But now he can't stop thinking about how lovely Daniel is while he's reading to Jack at bedtime or dancing around with him in the house to his dad's favorite albums.

And Daniel always tired to lightly flirt with Max where he could but now-- did Max's jaw get sharper? Are his eyes sparkling in the amber light of Jack's nightlights?

And there's tension and they're tripping over each other. And Jack notices something is different. And he gets worried. Cries that they're leaving him too.

And it's a tantrum of all tantrums and Jack is screaming and wailing and crying for his parents, his real parents. And it takes them hours to calm him. And he won't rest or sleep unless he's touching both of them. Clutching Max's shirt in one hand and Daniel's pinky (the one with the 3) in the other.

They're exhausted and crumbled in the main bedroom because it has the biggest bed. Neither of them sleep in there, it didn't feel right. But holding Jack there, cuddling him close, that felt right.

And maybe Max brushes some tears off of Jack's cheek and kisses him in the forehead and looks over at Daniel who is watching him quietly and Max pulls them both close. Daniel threads their fingers together and Max squeezes and kisses their palms

[dc-probate-attorney]

Preventing Inheritance Theft in Your Family

If you suspect that someone is stealing from a parent or a loved one, it’s important to take action as soon as possible. The best defense in this situation is a good offense. Even if you file a lawsuit, it may not be possible to undo the transfer of property, get items that were gifted to a person returned to the estate. Additionally, it might not be possible to get property back from someone who…

[nightcolorz]

Something I can't stop thinking about when it comes to book vs show is that in the book Louis doesn't really blame Armand for Claudia's death, sure he killed her but he was just upholding The Rules™

The Rules™ say a vampire shouldn't kill their maker and it was Claudia's idea to kill Lestat

The Rules™ say children shouldn't be made vampires and Claudia was made very young

Therefore according to The Rules™ Claudia should die

Armand was just following The Rules™ (and the specific kind of trauma he has doesn't allow him to even consider bending The Rules™ even for someone who wasn't aware of them, if anything Claudia's ignorance is another reason she has to die, someone who is ignorant of The Rules ™ will sure put them all in danger)

So Book Louis doesn't hate Armand, but he does hate The Rules™

The Rules™ cost him Claudia, The Rules™ are awful and unjust, The Rules™ just suck

So when he finds Daniel and the opportunity to tell his story, her story, to have it all published, that's just the opportunity he was looking for to get back at The Rules™

He can't bring Claudia back to life but he can expose all vampires and The Rules™ which say he shouldn't can go to hell

So it's a bit disappointing to me that the show has decided to remove those layers of complexity and made Louis blame Armand instead and simplified Armand's reasons to kill Claudia too

(Also what are Louis reasons to tell the story in this version?)

I was expecting Armand to double down on his reasoning for doing it (she had to die, I was just the executor not the reason she had to die, she wasn't going to make it anyway, all vampires made that young go crazy and are a risk that can expose us all, she would have killed herself soon anyway, she broke The Rules™) I thought that was what Armand's "I could not prevent it" was getting to and was disappointed when he showed to be apologetic to Louis instead

ooooo yes this is so interesting I totally agree with this. In the books Armand and Louis make it very clear that Claudia’s death was the consequence of an abusive fucked up institution (vampirism) that Louis and Armand r bound to + victims of, and the show def misses that. What I like about the vampire chronicles is how vampirism is portrayed as this abusive cycle in a way that binds all characters to the same loops of inescapable abusive patterns, and what’s interesting about that also is how all the characters r aware of this and forgiving of each other in ways humans would never be bcus they know “vampirism just does that to u”. It’s such a unique premise, and it’s unfortunate that the show seems uninterested i. exploring the “vampire culture” aspects of Anne rice world that I’ve always really loved. Sometimes I get the impression that they’d rather make the characters have more generic human responses to their problems so that it can appeal to a broader audience (which is disappointing for a tv show adaptation of a book series that is iconic for how it’s shaped what being a vampire is in pop culture)

[kykyhich]

Current Akaibara members.

Ellie Rose

Kitsune. Founder of Akaibara. Also own an “Fox den” bar and working as a bartender. Strong willed woman who also could be really hotheaded.

Jacob Rose

Ellie’s half brother and werewolf. Actually he was adopted by her, but for some reason she forebade him to call her “mom”. Only sister. Has cheerful personality and he was first person who met Charles as a vampire.

Burt Curtis

Ex-Toppat member. At first was forced to join Akaibara for teaching Charles, but stayed at Akaibara as regular member. Laziest pureblood vampire in the world. Also gave Henry his blood for experiments because of Reg’s order.

Sam Turner

Shapeshifter originally came from China. Oldest member of Akaibara. They got rough edges but mostly calm and harmless. Trying to keep worst situations under control. Formally they are Ellie’s right hand.

Dave Panpa

Was born with big potential for necromancy. Unlucky for him, his powers way too strong so he can’t control it. Got coffins from Toppats to contain necromancy powers.

Charles Calvin

Ex-solider under Covenant’s control. Originally he supposed to fight against undead and inhumans but now since he became a vampire he was forced to join Akaibara to protect his second life from Covenant’s wrath. Ellie saw big potential in him so it was a reason why she even kept revived vampire.

Akaibara - illegal inhuman organisation. Was foundered to giving protection for inhumans, especially for yokai and werewolves.

Covenant - organisation of wizards. Their current goals: extermination of undead and controlling populations of inhumans. Sorta world government. Have their own regular army. Hubert Galeforce is one of high ranked member of Covenant and also the one who responsible the army.

Army - Despite the Covenant's dislike of the inhumans, the army includes a lot of werewolves.

The Wall - executors of Covenants decisions. All Wall members is pure blood humans who had special training against inhumans.

Toppat clan - crime gang. Foundered as protester against Covenant’s policy of undead’s extermination. Most of top members is vampires or werewolves.

[valentoru]

|| Limitless ||

[CHAPTER 10]

SYNOPSIS: Gojo Satoru, a big time artist, who’s known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake wherever he goes. And you, the lead guitarist of an upcoming band, who’s absolutely certain that no one will ever love you. Through an accident in which you happened to kiss Gojo in a frantic state, you both decide, via convenience alone—and zero regard for both of your managers—to pull a fake dating stunt what could go wrong? Any press is good press…right?

PREVIOUS : MASTERLIST : NEXT

You arrived to the second fake dating Thursday late again. But for different reasons this time—all Suguru Geto related.

You had overslept because you had stayed up till some unbelievable hour in the morning practicing the pitch with the group and rehearsing how you were going to sell the project to Suguru Geto. You only stopped when Megumi threw a tangerine at you to tell you to shut up since you were keeping him up from sleep. You ended up moving to your room and carrying on for at least another two hours.

Then if you weren’t already late enough, you had realised that your normal outfit (an oversized shirt, a pair of pants which passed the sniff test and your hair being messy) was probably not the best outfit to showcase your professionalism and sell you as a “future colleague” so you decided to change into more business attire. Dress for success and all that.

You burst through the door whispering the words to yourself over and over and then you noticed Satoru.

It was an okay-ish day for the time of year. You glanced at him, and immediately you knew he was in the nastiest of moods. That rumour of him throwing pens and pencils around his office because a deal was unsuccessful, or because one of his employees messed something up or something equally inconsequential had happened came to mind. You felt the need to duck.

It’s okay. You told yourself. This was worth it. It was all worth it. Things Maki and Yuta were starting to work out, really well. Better than even anticipated actually. They were almost officially dating, they had shown up to your most recent group outing together. You were hopefully going to convince Geto without messing things up, and in the right attire since you had made the last minute decision to change. In addition, you were gaining a free drink out of all this. You just had to look on the bright side. Even if it meant looking past this pitch-black mood of Satoru Gojo’s, it would be worth it.

“Hi.” You beamed. He looked at you, squinting as if you were too bright, with a look of angst and hatred painted on his face. “How are you?”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, his expression unchanging, as usual. He was waring his usual attire. You couldn’t help but notice his muscles wondering if his clothes had been custom made. You had also taken note that his hair had gone ever so slightly shorter in length. It felt surreal to you that you were at the point that you were taking note and keeping track of Satoru Gojo’s hair and his moods.

“Ready to get coffee?” You chirped.

He nodded dismissively. Barely even looking at you. On a table inside one of your executors was glancing back and fourth pretending to clean the monitor of her laptop.

“Sorry I was late again. I just—”

“It’s fine.”

“How was your week?”

“Fine.”

Wow, okay. “Um…did you do anything at weekend?”

“I worked.”

You got into line and fought off your sigh. “Weathers been nice, huh?” God, you’d made it to awkward conversation fillers.

He grunted in response

It was starting to be too much. There was a limit to what you would do for this fake dating relationship—even for a free coffee. You sighed. “Is it because of the hair cut?”

“What?” He looked shocked.

“Is the mood because of the haircut?”

“What mood?”

You gestured to him. “This. This bad mood you’re in.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not in a bad mood.”

You snorted—thought that was probably not the right term for the noise you’d just made. It was too loud and derisive, more like a laugh.

A snaugh.

“What?” He frowned, unappreciative of your snaugh.

“Come on. You ooze moodiness.”

“I do not.” He sounded almost offended you’d even said that about him.

“You so do. But it’s fine, you’re allowed to be in a bad mood.”

It was your turn so you took a step forward and smiled at the barista.

“Morning. Can I have a pumpkin spice latte and that cream cheese danish over there. Yep, that one thank you. And”—You pointed at Satoru with your thumb—“he’ll have a chamomile tea. No sugar.” You added cheerfully taking a few small steps to the side to avoid damage in case Satoru decided to dart a pen at you. You were surprised when he calmly handed his card to the barista. Really, he wasn’t as bad as they made him out to be.

“I hate tea.” He said. “And chamomile.”

You beamed up at him. “That is truly unfortunate.”

“You smart-ass.”

He stared straight ahead, but you were almost certain that he was about to crack a smile. There was a lot to be said about him but not that he didn’t have a sense of humour.

“So…not the haircut?”

“Mm? Ah, no. It was a weird length. Getting in my way while I was running.”

Oh. So he was a runner. Like you. “Okay. Great. Because it doesn’t look bad.”

It looks good. As in really good. You are probably the most handsome man I’d ever talked to in the last week, but now you look even better. Not that I care about these things. I don’t care at all. I rarely even notice you, and I’m not sure why I’m noticing you, or your hair, or your clothes, or how tall you are. I really don’t get it. I never care. Usually. Ugh.

“I…” he seemed flustered for a second, his lips moving without making a sound as he looked for an appropriate response. Then, out of the blue, he said, “I talked with the CEO this morning. He’s still refusing to discuss a new contract.”

“Oh.” You cocked your head. “I thought they weren’t due until the end of September.”

“They aren’t. This was an informal meeting, but the topic came up. He said he’s still monitoring the situation.”

“I see.” You waited for him to continue. When it became clear that he wouldn’t, you asked, “Monitoring…how?”

“Unclear.” He was clenching his jaw.

“I’m sorry.” You felt for him. You really did. If there was something you could empathise with, it was contracts and how awkward they can be and how awkward companies can be about them. “Doesn’t that mean you can’t continue your career?”

“I have other plans it’s just awkward.”

“So…the problem is that you can’t remain here?”

“I can. But my contact would change and I like how it is now and I would like it to roll over and be the exact same on my next contract.”

Uh? “I see.” You cleared your throat. “So…let me recap. It sounds like they might terminate your contract based on rumours, which I agree is a crappy move. But it also sounds like now you can go bigger and get even greater deals with better companies, so…it’s not the end of the world?”

Satoru gave you an affronted glare, suddenly looking even more cross.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry I just don’t see how you’re truly missing out, i mean—” you were cut short when the barista handed you your danish.

You took a bite out of it—fuck it was nice—you watched his face, how it contorts, while you were chewing. He was watching the barista.

“Look okay, my point is, it’s not an insurmountable problem. Besides we’re working though it together, showing people that you’re going to stay here forever because of your amazing girlfriend.”

You pointed at yourself. His glare followed your hand, clearly he was not a fan of rationalising or working through his problems.

“Or you can stay mad, we can go to your office and throw pens at each other till the pain of being pelleted overrides your shitty mood? Sounds like fun, no?”

He looked away, rolling his eyes. You could see it in the curve of his cheeks that he was amused. Likely against his will. “You are such a smart-ass.”

“Maybe but I’m not the one who grunted when I asked how your week was.”

“I did not grunt. And you ordered me chamomile tea.”

You smiled. “You’re welcome.”

There was a quiet moment when you chewed through your of your danish. Once you’d swallowed you rationalised a little and said, “I’m sorry about your funds.”

He shook his heads “I’m sorry about the mood.”

Oh. “It’s okay. You’re famous for that.”

“I am?”

“Yep. It’s kinda of your thing.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmm.”

His mouth twitched. “Maybe I wanted to spare you.”

You smiled, because it was actually a nice thing to say. And he was not a nice person, but he was very kind to you most of the time—not always. He was almost smiling, staring down at you in a way that you couldn’t quite interpret but that made you think weird thoughts, until the barista deposited your drinks on the counter. He suddenly looks like he was about to retch.

“Satoru? Are you okay?”

He stared at your cup and took a step back. “The smell of that thing.”

You inhaled deeply. Heavenly. “You hate pumpkin spice latte?”

He wrinkled his nose, recoiling. “Gross.”

“How can you hate it? It’s the best thing your country has produced in the past century.”

“Please, stand back. The stench.”

“Hey. If I have to choose between you and pumpkin spice latte, maybe we should rethink our arrangement.”

He eyes your cup like it contained radioactive waste. “Maybe we should.”

He held the door open as you exited the coffee shop, taking care not to come too close to your drink. You could see through the windows of the lobby that, outside it was started by to drizzle. Some passers-by were hastily putting their hoods up and getting their umbrellas out. You had been in love with the rain since as far back as you could remember. You watched happily, Stopping with Satoru outside the cafe. He took a sip of his chamomile tea, and it made you happy.

“Hey,” you said, “I have an idea. Are you going to the event the company’s been promoting like crazy?”

He nodded. “I have to, if I want to keep this contract I kind of have to suck up to them.”

“Ah. That sounds…fun.” You winced sympathetically, almost laughing again at his appalled expression. “Well I’m going, Yuta says it promotes the band and shows are our bonding, something about us being seen as normal people. Are you going to make any of your big shot friends go?”

“No. I have other ways of making them miserable.”

You chuckled. He was funny, in that weird dark way of his. “I bet you do. Well, here’s my idea; since it’s a closed event, we should hand out. In front of the CEO and contract manager; they’ll see we’re basically one step away from marriage. Then he’ll make a quick phone call and a truck will drive up and give you your new contract right there in front of—”

“Hey, man!”

A black haired guy approached Satoru. You fell silent as Satoru turned to smile at him and exchanged a handshake—a close bros handshake. You blinked, wondering if you were seeing things, and took a sip of your latte.

You knew him.

“I thought you’d sleep in.” Satoru was saying.

You knew him.

“The time difference screwed me up. I figured I might as well come here and get to work. Something to eat, too, you have no food, man.”

You knew him.

“There are apples in the kitchen.”

You knew him.

“Right. No food.”

You knew him.

You took a step back, ready to excuse yourself when the guy turned to you. He looked eerily familiar, even though you were certain you had never met him before.

You knew him.

“And who’s this?” He asked curiously. His eyes were unnervingly black.

You knew him.

“This is Y/N,” Satoru said. There was a beat after your name, in which he should have probably specified how he knew you. He did not, and you really couldn’t blame him for not wanting to feed your fake-dating crap to someone who was clearly a good friend. You just kept your smile in place and let Satoru continue. “Y/N this is my collaborator—”

You knew him.

“Dude.” He interrupted. “Introduce me as your friend.”

You knew him.

Satoru rolled his eyes, clearly amused. “Y/N this is my friend and collaborator, Suguru Geto.”

Suguru Geto.

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© valentoru all rights reserved- do not publish my work on other platforms, plagiarise or translate.

[dostoyevsky-official]

Peace. It is time to bring back this word. Even more, it is time to expect and demand it. In the midst of what we thought was peace, we were wrong not to prepare and think of war. In the midst of a brutal war, it is time to envision peace. It used to be understood that this is how wars end. One side wins and another side loses, even surrenders. [...] A year ago, on October 7th, when Israel declared war in response to the Palestinian invasion, occupation, brutal massacre, and kidnapping, we made the cardinal of declaring war only against Hamas, when we should have declared war on the ideology of Palestinianism – of which Hamas is but the most recent and brutal executor. On October 7th we should have said, and we should still say, “This ends here: from Gaza to Columbia, this ideology, that for more than a century has vowed to prevent, and then undo, the existence of a sovereign state for the Jewish people in any part and of any size in the ancestral homeland, must die.” This kind of declaration would have also naturally led to a vision of peace. We need to declare that this war ends when that ideology of Palestinianism is replaced with a constructive one. It needs to be replaced by an ideology that seeks to live next to a Jewish state, rather than instead of it as understood from the chant refrain From The River to the Sea. The war will end when Palestinianism dies This is a vision we must reiterate daily. We need a leader who every day speaks to the world to say that “the day that Palestinians end their century-long war with Zionism, the day they develop a constructive vision rather than a destructive one, the day they want to live next to a Jewish state, rather than instead of it, the day they understand they are not multiple-generational refugees, and accept that there is no such thing as a 'right of return' into the sovereign territory of the state of Israel, is the day that they will find, as it always was, that we are willing to live in peace with them side by side in two separate states.” This is the vision we need to uphold with Lebanon. No more feeble calls to implement previous UN resolutions that no one bothered to enforce until Israel started enforcing Hezbollah’s disarmament by force. We need to demand that this war ends with full and complete peace between Lebanon and Israel, nothing less. We have no territorial dispute with Lebanon and until they choose peace, it shall be war – we will decide when and how to fight it – but no more one-sided ceasefires, empty UN resolutions, and worse than useless UN “peacekeeping forces.” Finally, we must go back to those neighboring countries with whom we officially have peace, and demand that they finally begin to look like peace, rather than glorified nonbelligerency agreements. While we have given Egypt the entirety of the Sinai Peninsula, we received much less than peace in return.

this is a former Labor MK and a representative of the israeli jewish left. this whole short article is a racist sham filled with half-truths, lies, equivocations, and distortions, beginning with the overarching framework that the self-determination of the palestinian people is an "ideology of palestinianism," whereas the poor israelis are oppressed from having their own state. it's riddled with typical israeli self-victimization, despite the fact they are the ones who have created several magnitudes of order greater numbers of corpses than their enemies.

this is what mainstream liberal-left zionism looks like. there are indeed a few organizations and individuals in israel that are committed to anti-zionism and genuine peace with palestinians, like hadash. but to say that society, which proudly proclaims itself to be the sole democratic one in the middle east, is non-belligerent and working for peace is a canard and a pack of lies, especially when one considers that labor itself has long been marginalized. if this is the marginal left view, what does mainstream israeli society think?