#bail bonds california

[acme-bail]

Facing time behind bars? Acme Bail Bonds has your back. Our expert bail agents in California are ready to bail you out. Fast, reliable service. Call 1+800-884-1222 or visit our website now for immediate help.

[placercountybailbond]

The Importance of Timely Bail: Why Acting Fast Matters

The idea of bail bonds can be a lifeline for people caught up in the legal system when they face the terrifying prospect of being arrested. Bail bonds California is suitable for individuals who want to secure temporary freedom pending trial. This allows them to go about their lives as usual while they prepare for their defense. Getting bail is a legal process, and it can significantly impact how a case turns out and how people involved fare in it. Let’s understand why it’s crucial and why acting fast matters.

Preserving Normalcy in Turmoil

Quickly obtaining bail is of the utmost importance. It gives the accused a period of time to maintain some normalcy in their life. Going to jail can mess with your life in many ways. It can impact your career, your relationships, and your mental health. Timely release on bail can allow individuals to support their families and gather resources to build a solid defense.

Access to Legal Representation

Another critical aspect of securing timely bail through bail bonds Roseville CA is the access to legal representation. Legal representation, evidence gathering, and preparation for the inevitable court battle are all things that an individual can prepare for. Delayed release can result in a lower-quality defense, which, in turn, can slow down the process.

Addressing Potential Dangers

Timely bail can also mitigate the risk of harm to the accused in many cases. Jail crimes are real, and people in jail are more likely to experience physical and mental health issues as well as threats to their safety. A sure way to ensure safety and avoid risks is to avoid exposure to these things by securing a bail.

Staying Strong in the Process

With how courts work, the case outcomes depend highly on the capacity to actively participate in the legal process and work well with legal counsel. For an accused, locating witnesses, gathering evidence, and preparing for court appearances are highly important. The legal process is long and can significantly impact the outcome of the case. So, it’s important to stay emotionally strong and prepare well for the process.

About Placer County Bail Bonds:

Placer County Bail Bonds offers professional bail bond in Placer County. Its experts work hard to make the bail process quick, easy, and stress-free by being available at all times for their clients. The experienced agents can offer advice, support, and payment options for securing bail.

For more information, visit https://placerbailbonds.com/

Original Source: https://bit.ly/4aXX1jv

[johnnycrass]

I am an Aries and the majority of my astrological chart is Aquarius and Aries placements, but good Lord that moon in Pisces is strong

[bailbondsrsvl]

RSVL Bail Bonds Expands Services in Placer County with New, Comprehensive Solutions

RSVL Bail Bonds, a trusted leader in the bail bond industry, is pleased to announce the expansion of its services in Placer County, CA. With a commitment to providing fast, reliable, and confidential bail bond solutions, RSVL Bail Bonds is now offering comprehensive assistance to residents throughout Placer County. This expansion underscores the company’s dedication to meeting the unique needs of clients in the area, reinforcing its role as a leading provider of Bail Bonds Placer County CA.

As a reputable provider of bail bonds in Placer County, RSVL Bail Bonds understands the complexities and challenges individuals face when navigating the bail process. Whether dealing with minor infractions or more serious charges, the company offers expert guidance and support to ensure clients receive the most efficient and effective service. By expanding its reach, RSVL Bail Bonds is enhancing its ability to assist clients who require immediate and dependable bail bond services.

Our goal is to offer residents prompt and professional bail bond services, tailored to their specific needs. With our experienced team, clients can expect not only exceptional service but also a compassionate approach during what can be a challenging time.”

Comprehensive Bail Bond Services in Placer County

RSVL Bail Bonds specializes in a range of bail bond services designed to meet the diverse needs of its clients. The company provides:

24/7 Availability: Understanding that legal issues can arise at any time, RSVL Bail Bonds offers round-the-clock service to ensure clients can access assistance whenever needed.

Fast and Efficient Processing: With a streamlined process, RSVL Bail Bonds works swiftly to secure the release of individuals from jail, minimizing stress and uncertainty.

Confidential Consultations: Privacy is paramount, and RSVL Bail Bonds guarantees discreet handling of all cases, ensuring clients’ personal and legal matters are kept confidential.

Expert Guidance: The team at RSVL Bail Bonds consists of experienced professionals who guide clients through every step of the bail process, from paperwork to court appearances.

Why Choose RSVL Bail Bonds?

With a reputation for excellence, RSVL Bail Bonds has established itself as a leading provider of bail bonds in Placer County. The company’s dedication to customer service, combined with its deep understanding of the local legal system, positions it as a top choice for those seeking reliable bail bond solutions.

Key advantages of choosing RSVL Bail Bonds include:

Local Expertise: As a company familiar with the Placer County legal landscape, RSVL Bail Bonds offers tailored solutions that align with local regulations and practices.

Customer-Centric Approach: The company prioritizes client needs, offering personalized support and clear communication throughout the bail process.

Commitment to Integrity: RSVL Bail Bonds operates with transparency and integrity, ensuring clients receive fair and honest service.

About RSVL Bail Bonds

RSVL Bail Bonds is a leading provider of bail bond services, dedicated to offering prompt and professional assistance to individuals in need. With a focus on customer satisfaction and expertise in the bail bond industry, the company has become a trusted name in the community. For more information about bail bonds in Placer County, CA, or to request assistance, visit RSVL Bail Bonds or contact the company directly.

[amistadbailbonds]

California Immigration Bail Bonds: 5 Frequently Asked Questions

The Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) team arrests individuals for illegal immigration or cross-border crimes. More than 27000 people are in ICE detention across the US, out of which around 1775 are in California. This state has the third-highest number of ICE detainees after Texas and Louisiana. If your loved one is one of the people detained by ICE, you need to arrange for an immigration bond. Immigration bonds in California can facilitate the detainee’s release while they wait for trial before the Immigration Court. Wondering what immigration bonds are and how they work? Here, we will answer the five most frequently asked questions on this topic to simplify it for you!

#1What is the purpose of an Immigration Bond?

ICE works under the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), arresting non-citizens for violating immigration rules. The officials may detain people suspected of cross-border crimes, undocumented entry, or staying in the US after visa expiration. After the arrest, a person is taken into an ICE detention facility. The detainee has to provide an immigration bond to secure release from the detention center. It is a monetary deposit to assure the authorities that the detainee will attend Immigration Court hearings and adhere to the legal stipulations.

#2 Who is eligible for Immigration Bonds?

Detainees are eligible for immigration bail bonds in Californiaif they meet the following criteria:

The detainee cannot have any serious criminal record.

They must not pose a threat to the safety of the local community.

They must not be likely to flee or evade their Court hearings.

#3 How can one pay for the Immigration Bond?

Once the ICE officials or the Immigration Judge determines the bond amount, the detainee’s friends and family can initiate the payment process. Any person with legal rights to be in the US can make the payment at an ICE-ERO Bond Acceptance Facility. In California, these facilities are located in Los Angeles, San Diego, Calexico, El Centro, Sacramento, Bakersfield, and San Francisco. However, this process is usually very cumbersome and time-consuming. Therefore, most people take the help of licensed immigration bail bond companies to make this payment.

An immigration bail bond company can help you locate the detainee and fast-track the bond process. They can get in touch with the nearest payment acceptance facility and make the payment through electronic transfer. As a result, they can expedite the process and facilitate quick release for your loved one.

#4 How does one pay the immigration bail bond company?

Typically, there are two ways to pay the service provider. You may provide full cash collateral with the application fee and a small percentage of the bond amount as a premium. If you do not have the requisite cash, the bond company may place a lien on your property asset as security for this transaction. You have to pay a slightly higher premium for the asset collateral option to compensate for the agent’s risks and efforts.

#5 Does the client get back the bond amount at the end of the case?

The client party can get a refund of the cash collateral if the case ends without any bond violation. However, the company retains the premium as a fee for their service. In the case of asset collateral, the client does not get a refund after the case ends. However, if a detainee's loved ones pay the bond amount directly to ICE, they can get a full refund provided all bond terms are followed.

If your loved one is detained by ICE, you can contact us at Amistad. We provide nationwide US immigration bonds and facilitate quick release for our clients.

Blog Source: https://www.amistadbailbonds.com/california-immigration-bail-bonds-5-frequently-asked-questions/

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

On Wednesday, Senate Health, Education, Labor and Pensions (HELP) Chair Bernie Sanders (I-Vermont) and Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-Washington) reintroduced a proposal to make higher education free at public schools for most Americans — and pay for it by taxing Wall Street.

The College for All Act of 2023 would massively change the higher education landscape in the U.S., taking a step toward Sanders’s long-standing goal of making public college free for all. It would make community college and public vocational schools tuition-free for all students, while making any public college and university free for students from single-parent households making less than $125,000 or couples making less than $250,000 — or, the vast majority of families in the U.S.

The bill would increase federal funding to make tuition free for most students at universities that serve non-white groups, such as Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs). It would also double the maximum award to Pell Grant recipients at public or nonprofit private colleges from $7,395 to $14,790.

If passed, the lawmakers say their bill would be the biggest expansion of access to higher education since 1965, when President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Higher Education Act, a bill that would massively increase access to college in the ensuing decades. The proposal would not only increase college access, but also help to tackle the student debt crisis.

“Today, this country tells young people to get the best education they can, and then saddles them for decades with crushing student loan debt. To my mind, that does not make any sense whatsoever,” Sanders said. “In the 21st century, a free public education system that goes from kindergarten through high school is no longer good enough. The time is long overdue to make public colleges and universities tuition-free and debt-free for working families.”

Debt activists expressed support for the bill. “This is the only real solution to the student debt crisis: eliminate tuition and debt by fully funding public colleges and universities,” the Debt Collective wrote on Wednesday. “It’s time for your member of Congress to put up or shut up. Solve the root cause and eliminate tuition and debt.”

These initiatives would be paid for by several new taxes on Wall Street, found in a separate bill reintroduced by Sanders and Rep. Barbara Lee (D-California) on Wednesday. The Tax on Wall Street Speculation would enact a 0.5% tax on stock trades, a 0.1% tax on bonds and a 0.005% tax on trades on derivatives and other types of assets.

The tax would primarily affect the most frequent, and often the wealthiest, traders and would be less than a typical fee for pension management for working class investors, the lawmakers say. It would raise up to $220 billion in the first year of enactment, and over $2.4 trillion over a decade. The proposal has the support of dozens of progressive organizations as well as a large swath of economists.

“Let us never forget: Back in 2008, middle class taxpayers bailed out Wall Street speculators whose greed, recklessness and illegal behavior caused millions of Americans to lose their jobs, homes, life savings, and ability to send their kids to college,” said Sanders. “Now that giant financial institutions are back to making record-breaking profits while millions of Americans struggle to pay rent and feed their families, it is Wall Street’s turn to rebuild the middle class by paying a modest financial transactions tax.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Naomi Kritzer's "Liberty's Daughter"

Tomorrow (November 22), I'll be joined by Vass Bednar at the Toronto Metro Reference Library for a talk about my new novel, The Lost Cause, a preapocalyptic tale of hope in the climate emergency.

There's so much sf about "competent men" running their families with entrepreneurial zeal, clarity of vision and a firm confident hand. But there's precious little fiction about how much being raised by a Heinlein dad would suuuck. But it would, and in Naomi Kritzer's Liberty's Daughter, we get a peek inside the nightmare:

https://fairwoodpress.com/store/p148/LIBERTY%27S_DAUGHTER.html

Beck Garrison is a seasteader, living on a floating platform built by libertarian cranks to get away from big government, taxes, and the idea that people owe each other care and consideration. Various kinds of market trufans have built their own fiefdoms: there's a sin city, a biotech free-for-all, a lawless Mad Max zone, and so on.

Beck's father, Paul, is some kind of local functionary. He's wealthy and respected, both a power-broker and a power in his own right. He pays for Beck to get private tutoring (no public schools – no public anything) and if she needs bailing out from some kind of sticky situation, he's got her on his account with Alpha Dogs, the toughest mercenaries on the sea (no police, either). An armed society is a polite society, after all.

Beck has a job, naturally (there ain't no such thing as a free lunch). She's a finder: for all that the steaders worship commerce as a sacrament consecrated to the holy Invisible Hand, there's not a lot of retail at sea. California – the nearest onshore neighbor – has lots of pesky taxes, and besides, it's a long ways off. Besides, space is at a premium on the stead, so people don't have attics and basements to fill with excess consumer junk.

Instead, when a steader needs something – a shoelace, a fashion accessory, or any other creature comfort – they hire a finder like Beck to clamber around between the decks of the aircraft carriers, scows, yachts and other vessels comprising the stead. It's a good way for Beck to earn spending money, and she's a natural at it. After all, she's been a steader since she was four, when her mother died in a drunk driving accident and her father took her to sea.

The story opens with a finding job. Beck wants a pair of sparkly shoes for her client, and the woman who owns them is an indentured servant whose sister has gone missing. Find the sister, get the shoes.

Indentured servant? Yeah, of course. Freedom of contract is the one freedom from which all the others flow, so you can sell yourself into bond labor. Hell, maybe you can earn enough to buy a share in the stead and become a co-owner/citizen.

This is the setup for Beck's adventure, which sees her liberating bond slaves tricked into fatal work details, getting involved in reality TV production, meeting illegal IWW organizers, and becoming embroiled in a pandemic that threatens the lives of all the steaders. It's a coming of age novel, told with the same straightforward, spunky zeal of Heinlein's juvies, but from the perspective of the daughter, not the dad.

Kritzer makes it clear that growing up under the thumb of a TANSTAAFL-worshipping, self-regarding, wealthy autocrat who worships selfishness as the necessary precondition for market clearing would be a goddamned nightmare. She also thinks through some of the important implications of life in one of these offshore libertarian archipelagos, like the fact that the wealthy residents would be overwhelming drawn from the ranks of corporate criminals and tax-cheats, and the underclass would be bail-skipping proles ensnared in the War on Drugs.

But Liberty's Daughter isn't a hymn to big government. Most of the steaders are escaping the US government, a state whose authoritarian and cruel proclivities are well-documented. Kritzer uses the labor dispute at the core of the novel to reveal market authoritarianism – the coercive power that hunger and poverty transfers from the have-nots to the haves. Think of Anatole France's wry observation that "the law, in its majestic equality, equally forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread."

If you're familiar with Kritzer's work, you won't be surprised to learn that she tells a zippy, fast moving tale that smuggles in sharp observations about the cleavage lines between solidarity and selfishness. Her story "So Much Cooking" – published years before the pandemic – captured life under lockdown with eerie prescience:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/17/pack-of-knaves/#so-much-cooking

More recently, her "Better Living Through Algorithms" is a dazzling display of knifework that'll cut you a dozen times before you even notice that you're bleeding:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/02/wunderkammer/#jubillee

If you habitually read Kritzer's short fiction, Liberty's Daughter might be familiar to you, as it is adapted from a series of stories that originally ran in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Kritzer's YA debut, Catfishing on the CatNet, was also adapted from a short story, "Cat Pictures Please," which won the Hugo Award in 2016:

https://boingboing.net/2019/11/19/setec-astronomy-kitteh.html

"Libertarian exit" – buying a country, or an archipelago, or just a luxury bunker – has been in the air lately. It's a major element of my new novel, The Lost Cause, which came out this month – anarchocapitalist wreckers try to sabotage the Green New Deal from the seastead they've moored to the tallest point in the drowned Grand Caymans and declared to be a sovereign nation:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

Kritzer is great at catching that zeitgeist. Seasteading is part of a long, bitter dream of a certain kind of selfish person to escape society, a tale told in lurid and fascinating detail in Raymond Craib's 2022 history Adventure Capitalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/14/this-way-to-the-egress/#terra-nullius

There's a longstanding joke to the effect that you can shut down any discussion of the merits of a libertarian exit by asking three questions about the brave new world:

Whether you can sell your organs;

Whether you can sell yourself into slavery; and

Whether there is any age of consent.

Kritzer tackles the first two, but tacks around the third. Instead, by giving us a young adult protagonist who has been raised in a rusting libertopia, she finds a decidedly less incendiary way to think about the role of autonomy in adolescents, and thus generates far more light than heat.

The result is a cracking read with a sting in its tail.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/21/podkaynes-dad-was-a-dick/#age-of-consent

[acme-bail]

Discover the factors influencing bail amounts in California. Learn how judges set bail and what considerations impact your bail amount in this detailed infographic.

[ereardon]

That Summer || Part Eight [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Synopsis: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst, smut

Chapter summary: Y/N celebrates her 18th birthday and Bradley gives her a gift she'll never forget; Bradley and Y/N take their relationship to the next physical level and he makes a promise to her he's dead set on keeping

Wordcount: 2.3K

Series masterlist here; Part Seven here

You had never been in love before Bradley. 

What you didn’t know was that love like the way you and Bradley felt about each other wasn’t standard. It wasn’t normal for two teenagers to feel that way about each other and mean it. 

What you didn’t know was that you would spend the rest of your life trying to recreate how you felt that summer. For the way you felt that night as Bradley’s arms wrapped around you and he told you, for the first time, that he loved you. 

What you didn’t realize was that loving Bradley was short and sweet and perfect. And it would crumble. Before your very eyes. 

***

He knew, the moment he said it, that he shouldn’t have. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you. He did. Bradley Bradshaw was sure of only a handful of things in his life — that California was superior to most, if not all other states; that his mother was his best friend, even in death; that more restaurants should carry hot dogs and meatballs as main courses. 

And there was one other thing that he was absolutely certain about. It was that he loved you, with every fiber of his being. With every breath he became more infatuated and tied to you. 

The two of you were bonded. Bradley knew that no matter what happened, you would own a part of him forever. He would never be complete again. And that was OK. He loved you, and he wanted to give you the world. But he had nothing to his name. So he would settle with giving you a piece of his soul. 

He gave you everything he could. He promised he would.

He just prayed it was enough.

***

“The dress code is white tie,” you said, snapping your seatbelt and adjusting the mirror. 

Bradley frowned from the passenger seat. “What is that?” 

You rattled on about what exactly it entailed and Bradley’s stomach sunk further. He was suddenly, overwhelmingly, anxious about this. Dancing in front of a room of strangers? Watching his every move so that he didn’t betray what you two had? Trying, and failing, to learn the steps of some arcane waltz that was exclusively designed to trip people up? 

But he couldn’t tell you any of those fears. You were excited. He could see it in your face. The way the light hit you as the two of you pulled onto the main road, headed for town and the custom tailor your father swore by. For the first time in a long time, Bradley saw you happy outside the confines of your bedroom or his. 

He felt it was his duty to maintain that happiness. If only for a fleeting moment. 

“That sounds great,” he said as you finished telling him about the meal. 

You looked over with a grin. “Really?” He nodded and you reached out, taking his hand in yours. “See,” you said. Beyond the windshield, the island stretched out in front of you, seemingly endless. 

But everything ends. Roads would turn to vegetation and then sand and then water. And if you kept going straight the two of you would be shuttled off into the abyss of the ocean. 

“I knew they’d come around,” you added and Bradley smiled at you gently, feeling your fingers squeeze his. “They’re going to love you just as much as I do. It’ll all work out, I promise.” 

You meant it. He knew you meant it. 

But he also knew you were wrong. The minute your father found out that Bradley was the person you were sneaking off to see under the cover of nightfall, it was all over for him. For both of you. 

It was only a matter of time.

***

“Happy birthday, Pumpkin.” Your father kissed the top of your head and placed a small box in front of you at the kitchen table. “From me and your mother.” 

You smiled at him and slid a finger under the wrapping, revealing a familiar robin’s egg blue box. You gasped and your father chuckled. 

Inside was a small diamond pendant necklace. You lifted it up softly, letting the diamond swivel around and collect the light. 

“Thank you daddy,” you smiled. You looked at the opposite end of the table. “Mother, thank you.” 

She nodded curtly. 

Louise brought out a perfect three-tiered coconut cake, way too much for four people, and you blew out the candles in one swift breath. 

Your father raised his glass of champagne. You and Bradley did the same, as well as your mother. “To my daughter on her eighteenth birthday,” he said warmly. “You’re perfect. And we love you so much. Cheers.” 

Bradley caught your eye from the other side of the table. He smiled and you felt it in your toes.

Eighteen. You had your whole life ahead of you. But all that mattered in that moment was making it to tonight. Because you and Bradley had plans. 

***

The door eased open. You turned from where you had been staring out the window at the waves crashing along the shore during high tide. 

Bradley tried not to let his jaw drop. You were practically ethereal. Pale, silvery moonlight illuminating you from behind. He stepped inside, closing the door softly, trying to gulp as silently as possible. 

You fiddled with the sleeves of your white lace robe, suddenly nervous. But when Bradley crossed the room, sliding one hand beneath your chin, drawing your eyes up to his, all of that fear and anxiety drifted away. It was just the two of you. That’s all you would ever need. Just Bradley. 

“I didn’t get to say it earlier,” he whispered, “but happy birthday.” 

You smiled and Bradley’s thumb reached out, tracing over the corner of your lip. “Thanks.” 

His other hand came out, brushing over your waist. You shivered unintentionally. “We don’t have to do this,” he murmured. 

You shook your head. “I want to. I want you, Bradley. All of you.” 

Bradley nodded, dropping his hand to take yours, walking you over to the side of the bed. He reached up to unbutton his shirt and you leaned forward, doing it for him. Carefully, you undid the row of buttons on his linen shirt, sliding your hands along his bare chest, nudging it off his shoulders. 

He reached out, fingers grasping the silky tie of your robe. Bradley looked up at you, waiting for the go-ahead. You nodded and he slid it open softly, reaching out and letting the robe slip from your shoulders and arms, pooling onto the ground. Bradley’s eyes went wide as he took in your matching white panties and lace bra. Gently, he leaned down, kissing your shoulder as your head reached back, a small sigh exiting your mouth. Bradley’s hands ran over your exposed skin, warming you, and your fingers reached for his belt, pulling at it. 

He leaned back with a smile. “Slow down, Birdy.” 

“Need to feel you.” 

A groan fell from his lips and he quickly shed his belt and shorts, standing in front of you in a pair of blue boxer shorts, cock already standing at full attention beneath the fabric. You reached out, petting him over the cotton material, and Bradley moaned sinfully. Your fingertips slid into the waistband and you looked up at him, waiting. He nodded and you pulled them down, letting his thick cock spring free. 

The two of you stood facing each other. Bradley reached out, holding your hips, pivoting you wordlessly toward the bed. He laid you down gently before crawling on top of you, his lips everywhere: your collarbone, the top of your breast, your stomach, the squishy part of your thigh where it met your hips. 

You moaned quietly as Bradley unclipped your bra, taking your nipple into his mouth, massaging your other breast with his hand. “Fuck,” he muttered, nipping at the delicate skin. He looked up, brown eyes locked on yours. “You’re perfect.” 

Excitement coursed through your veins. Your body was desperate for Bradley. “Brad,” you whispered. “Need you now.” 

You could feel his cock flutter against your thigh, the tip already wet. It made you want to press your thighs together, craving the friction. “Honey,” he murmured softly. “Let me at least get you ready.” 

The truth was, he needed a moment himself. The truth was, Bradley had never done this before. 

You ran your fingers through his hair. 

“I’m ready. More than ready.” 

Bradley nodded, easing his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them off of the side of your bed. You opened your legs wider, allowing him to settle himself between them. He was quiet for a moment, one hand on your thigh, the other gently holding his hard cock. A hesitation. 

“Are you OK?” you asked. 

Bradley looked up. “There’s something I have to tell you.” He let out a breath. “I’m a virgin.” 

Oh. Oh. That explained it. The way he was looking at you. Wanting to take things slow. You sat up, kneeling on the bed facing him. You reached out softly, one hand cupping his cheek. “Bradley.” His name on your lips made him want to pass out. It was gentle. Caring. Bradley knew he might never meet another person who would love him the way you did in that moment. 

He wanted you, all of you. He wanted so much it terrified him. And the worst part was that he knew you wanted more, too. You wanted him. A life with him. You wanted things he couldn’t give you. You wanted stability and comfort and a home. You wanted a whole life that was outside of Bradley’s reach. 

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” you murmured. “Whatever you want to do, I’m happy.” 

He shook his head. “I want to.” I’m just scared.  

“Are you sure?” 

His eyes latched onto yours. “I love you, Birdy. More than anything else in the world. More than I ever thought was possible. So yes, I’m sure. I just, I needed you to know.” 

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against Bradley’s. His warm hands came out to your sides, leaning you back gently, settling you on your back on the mattress. One of his hands nudged your legs open and you gasped into Bradley’s mouth as you felt the hot tip of his cock brush against your wet entrance. 

He groaned as he pushed the head inside of you, a literal whimper leaving his mouth. “Oh, oh God.” 

“Bradley,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and upper back. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he whispered against the skin of your neck, pushing further inside of you, splitting you into pieces. “Birdy, oh shit!” 

He slid further inside of you, thick cock stuffing you full, your walls fluttering around him as you stifled moans into the skin of his shoulder where you pressed your mouth. Bradley’s hand came up and gripped your neck, holding onto you. Clinging to you. 

Once he was all the way inside, you opened your eyes. Bradley sat staring back at you, his brown eyes blown wide. “Baby,” he whispered. 

You knew what he wanted. You nodded. “Please,” you begged and he obliged, pulling out a few inches before slamming back into you, eliciting a simultaneous moan from both of you. His rhythm was clumsy, asymmetrical, as he pulled back, thrusting into you repeatedly. But it didn’t matter. Your feet climbed onto Bradley’s back as you curled yourself around him, his pants and sighs in your ear causing your walls to tighten on him. “Bradley!” 

“Fuck, Birdy, I’m not going to last,” he moaned as he slid further inside of you. “Where should I?” 

“Inside of me,” you begged and Bradley’s pace picked up until he was shooting cum inside of you, a messy jumble of moans and praises falling from his mouth as he stilled inside of you. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, holding him to your chest where he had collapsed against you. “I love you,” you murmured against his sweaty, salty skin. “I love you.” 

You held him close, his face buried between your neck and shoulder. And you knew that you would never forget holding Bradley in your arms. 

Finally, he pulled out slowly, groaning lightly. The two of you cleaned up in the adjoining bathroom before you slid into bed under the covers, patting the space next to you. “Stay,” you asked. 

He nodded. “I will. I promise. But first, I have a present for you.” 

You frowned. Bradley had no job. No income. He had nothing to his name. How could he have a gift for you? 

Bradley bent down, fiddling with the pocket of his discarded shorts, before slipping under the covers next to you. He grabbed your hand, dropping something from his fist into yours. 

It was cold. He pulled his hands away and you opened your hand, revealing a plain gold band placed on your palm. 

“It was my mother’s wedding ring,” he said and you looked up in shock. “It’s the only thing I have of hers.” 

You shook your head, pressing it back into his hands. “Bradley, no. Absolutely not. I can’t accept this.” 

“Y/N,” he said and there was a finality to the word. “Yes, you will. She would have wanted you to have it. I want you to have it.” 

“Is it, um?” You didn’t know how to ask. 

“Not yet,” Bradley whispered. “But someday, Birdy, yes. Someday I’m going to ask you to marry me. I promise, no matter what happens, I’ll make you my wife.” 

You slipped the ring onto the fourth finger of your right hand instead of your left. It fit perfectly. You looked up at him. “I love it. Thank you.” 

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours softly. “I love you. I’m always going to love you. I'm sorry it's not much," he added. "But it's all I could do."

Your fingers tightened around his, the cool metal brushing against his skin. "It's perfect," you murmured. "It's more than enough. You're more than enough."

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[mtvatlas]

NOTE: This is Billy's general and frankly MAIN universe. it is HEAVILY inspired by the works of Joe Hill and a smidge of Neil Gaiman for vibes. The Night Road is an element of Joe Hill's works and their adaptations and is first mentioned in his novel Heart Shaped Box.

Something happened to Billy all those years ago, what it was exactly he doesn’t say and no one who was around for it is either gone or conspicuously won’t talk about it. But he’s different now. Never been the same since— assuming he’s even alive. He certainly hasn’t been back there and if the people who knew him saw him, they’re not saying anything. It’s not clear if it’s because he doesn’t want to go or because he can’t go. There’s a story though, an urban myth really.

Here’s how it goes:

Back in the 80s there was this real hard glam rock kinda guy, real poster child for the whole 80s vibe— mullet, single earring, leather jacket, muscles, heavy metal, hot rod and a fuck you attitude. His name was Billy Hargrove and he was from California. His mom left him with his bastard of a dad when he was a kid then Billy got saddled him with a younger sister when he remarried. It wasn’t a good time for anyone but it was especially bad for Billy. See Mr. Hargrove was a real piece of work, he beat Billy just for looking at him wrong. Didn’t like anyone that wasn’t himself. And that made Billy mean too. When Billy was 17 things went really south and they ended up in some loser podunk midwest town to get away from the fall out. Billy got real angry after that. Drinking, fighting, sleeping around — the whole 9 yards — he really got wild. Like he had a death wish or something. And maybe he did seeing how things went.

So one night Billy had this date with some girl and he’s speeding along in his Camaro — as usual — and he doesn’t come back. It’s like he just drove into the night and got eaten up by it. Not so crazy either on those rural roads, all those trees and no street lights make it darker than dark. Most people thought he’d finally gotten into an accident somewhere or bailed out of town. But they never found a wreck and if he did skip town he’d left with nothing but the clothes on his back and a lot of very sellable shit behind — not exactly the actions of a dude who’s looking to head back to Malibu.

Only people could still hear his car roaring down the road. I mean you could NOT mistake this for anything else. Billy Hargrove was the only guy in town with a hot rod and the only one who drove like he wanted you to know he was coming for ya. His old man swore he heard it all the time, even as he had one foot out the door sayin’ he was dumping his wife and step-daughter and moving on to somewhere better. Every night he’d hear that fucking Camaro and sometimes in the day, sometimes just outside the bank where he worked as a security guard. Claimed he heard weird shit on the radio too, Billy’s heavy metal and some DJ talking about The Night Road. Said he heard screams of the damned. First he blamed the step-daughter for it but how the hell could she hack the airwaves? Finally he seemed to totally snap and said he was leaving this godless place and going somewhere better, somewhere a man like him deserved.

Never got somewhere better but he did get somewhere he deserved. He went missing one night, truck still in the driveway, headlights on and the driver’s door open. The only evidence was tire tracks. They matched Billy’s Camaro. They never found a body but his wife did get a call a few days later. It was Billy saying he’d took pops for a little bonding trip, wished her and the brat a nice life and hung up. She knew was a widow now and whatever trip they’d took it wasn’t any kind she’d ever understand. Or want to.

See whatever happened to Billy it made him different. Like some kinda fucking ghost rider or whatever. See there’s this road the NIGHT ROAD — it runs from from north to south following the I-95 but also it’s everywhere and it’s nowhere. Either way it ends in Florida cause you see it ends in HELL. And Florida’s pretty 1 for 1 on being Hell. To get on the Night Road there’s gotta be something a little dark in you, a little wrong, and once you’re on it you can get to places you never knew existed. It’s like Route 66 for the supernatural or something. And Billy? Billy’s on that road now, some kine of 80s grim reaper blaring Metallica while he comes to take someone to Hell.

He’s not Santa, he doesn’t have a naughty or nice list. No one really knows when he’s gonna show up or why most of the time. But if you piss him off or summon him well, we’ll never forget you. So if you’re ever driving on an empty road at night and suddenly there’s headlights behind you and a radio blaring, it just might be Billy Hargrove making his rounds on the Night Road. And maybe he’s there for you.

[b-plot-butch]

hi friends, i know someone at university of southern california. about 100 students have been arrested there, including 6 of her friends. this is their venmo—if you have a bit of money to spare for bail bonds for them, that would be so so appreciated!

[beardedmrbean]

Three suspects wanted for a series of violent “follow-away” robberies across Southern California have been arrested.

The suspects were identified by the Los Angeles Police Department as:

Nhazel Warren, 19, from Los Angeles

Chazon Brown, 28, from Los Angeles

Isaiah Moore, 32, from Fresno

Police described the trio as “prolific robbery suspects responsible for many other robberies” that involved “many victims who have yet to be identified.”

One of the robberies took place on Sept. 19 when the suspects allegedly confronted a male victim in a parking lot in the 23000 block of Mulholland Drive in Woodland Hills.

The victim was punched and attacked as the impact knocked him to the ground. He remained pinned to the ground as the robbers forcibly removed his jewelry before fleeing in a black BMW sedan.

On Oct. 23, another male victim was targeted in the 21000 block of Ventura Boulevard in Woodland Hills.

He was allegedly followed by the trio to a local business when a black BMW sedan suddenly drove up to him. Two passengers in the backseat exited while armed with handguns before forcibly taking the victim’s jewelry and fleeing the area.

Detectives later determined the three suspects were allegedly responsible for the violent robberies.

On Oct. 24, Brown and Moore were arrested by LAPD. Authorities also seized numerous items of evidence including two semiautomatic pistols. The third suspect, Warren, was arrested later that night in Long Beach.

All three suspects were arrested for armed robbery and are being held on $1 million bail each.

While the crimes were being committed, Warren was still wearing a GPS ankle monitor from the L.A. County Probation Pre-Trial Services following his arrests in two unrelated felony cases that occurred in July and August. On Oct. 29, Warren posted bond for a third time and was released, police said.

Detectives believe there are many more victims of the trio who have yet to come forward. Photographs of the men were released in case anyone recognized them.

Anyone who was a victim or has information on the crimes is urged to contact Detectives Mrakich and Delph at 213-486-6840 or email rhdtipline@lapd.online. The public can also call the LAPD at 1-877-527-3247.

Anonymous tips can be provided to L.A. Regional Crime Stoppers at 1-800-222-8477 or online at lacrimestoppers.org.

[senorablack]

On the Injustices of the Modern Senior Discount

Words: 1143 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Argyle/Jonathan Byers Characters: injustices of the world Additional Tags: Humor, Shippy Gen, idiot 4 idiot Summary: Steve finds Eddie, Argyle and Jonathan in the middle of a protest.

When Steve finds his guy, Eddie’s handcuffed to the theatre doors. His right wrist is, anyway. His left is cuffed to Argyle’s. And cuffed to Argyle’s left ankle, is Jonathan’s right. Argyle attempts a wave, but the movement takes Eddie’s arm with it, which results in a supersized soaking of icy coke all over the pair. Jonathan snorts. Probably because he’s managed to be unscathed by the splash back.

“S’why we should have gone with 7-up.” He says. But Steve barely catches it from where he lies on the sidewalk, head pillowed in his hands.

“But you like coke, dude.” Argyle says, taking off his second layer and dabbing it at his sticky stomach.

“Without…a doubt…” Jonathan says through yawns, “but 7-up doesn’t stain.”

“Board shorts can be replaced, you know, but supersized sales on fountain drinks last forever.”

“No man, this all-you-can-drink sale ends July thirty-first, ” Eddie says, “And today’s the… ”

“Thirtieth .” Jonathan supplies.

“Yeah, so like, what are we doing sitting here and not like, out there, disrupting the land?" Argyle asks, "High time we pretended we’re some white folk from the east, man, and that that fountain machine is our California gold.”

“Some of us are white folk from the east.” Jonathan breathes.

Steve can't be sure that he's really even awake. Argyle tries again, but Steve shuts him down immediately, not needing to hear anything more.

“Could I just—“ Steve pinches the bridge of his nose (and mumbles why do I even hang out with you bozos), “—could I just interrupt you guys for a sec. Anyone want to tell me what’s up with the cuffs?”

“Cuffs?” Eddie asks, with a head tilt. “Come again?”

“I said, DID YOU PUT YOURSELF HERE OR DO I HAVE TO CALL BAIL BONDS?”

The trio wince.

“Roll the volume back to 3, brother, I’m sensitive.” Argyle says, twisting a pinky in his ear.

“He always swabs too harsh.” Jonathan says, and turn to his side. It brings Argyle’s ankle over his own. Argyle doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

“You wanna make sure you got all those little gummy guys out of there.” Eddie says, “Jay think fast!”

Jonathan returns to his back a second late and instead of his open mouth, the popcorn kernel Eddie tossed at him falls into his shirt. Steve hadn’t seen it before, but when Jonathan sits up, there is a littering of kernels outlining Jonathan’s concrete bed like some kind of buttery snow-angel. Eddie shoots him a comforting smile.

“I’ll get it one day.” Jonathan says with a shrug.

“Hey, I won’t give up on you, if you don’t give up on you.” Eddie says. Argyle places a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

“That right there, brooooooooo, that’s some real ass shit man. You could work for hallmark.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t last one—“

“GUYS!” Steve shouts again. “Let’s reel this back to why the hell you’re all cuffed together, mmkay?”

“Oh, yeah, we’re protesting.” Eddie says and fishes a half soak joint from his pocket.

He frowns. Argyle pats him on the back consolingly, retreats, and digs through Jonathan’s jean jacket to procure some rolling papers.

“Protesting what?”

Argyle takes out his wallet, places a paper on top, and uses a nail to cut open the soaked joint. He empties the bud onto the new paper and re-rolls like he’s performing brain surgery.

“Being denied the senior discount.” Eddie says with a growl.

“None of you are seniors.” Steve says.

“What, because of our age? I was a senior a mere three months ago, my guy.” Argyle says, and then snaps his fingers in Eddie’s direction. Eddie mindlessly brings out his zippo and hands it to Argyle.

“Doctor.” Eddie says quickly.

“Doctor.” Argyle says in kind. He holds the flame under the length of the joint, close enough to seal but not burn.

“No, right? For christ sakes, Steve, I was a senior three times. That means I should have like, three times the discount…” Eddie’s brows scrunch. “If my math is right.”

Steve covers both hands over his face. And then runs them through his hair, pushing back the waves in all kinds of odd angles. He imagines they look like how he inwardly feels—distressed.

“It’s not.” He says flatly.

“But the formula…” Argyle starts. And Steve has to cut him off again.

“You! Hey!” Steve kicks at bottom of one of Jonathan’s converse. “Okay, no, you—why are you here? You know better.”

“Oh, I know better, man. I know better than to trust the man to fairness and equality. We all deserve access to Alien 3.”

“Sure. Right. Okay.”

“Plus,” Jonathan says with a laugh, “this is where the bud went and I was promised nachos.”

“Christ, you really need to stop hanging around Eddie, because you’re starting to make less sense than him.”

“Nah, E&J Spa Day Saturdays are sacred and irreplaceable.”

“You don’t even go to the spa.”

“I dunno, it just sounds better than Jonathan and Eddie get blasted, visit natural history museums, and make up fake lore about earth and mankind’s evolution Saturdays.”

“Huh, now I see why I don’t get to tag along.” Steve says with raised brows. “Guess I owe you a thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jonathan says.

“Wait, wait…so where’s the patty wagon?”

“Get this. These are the auxiliary doors.” Eddies says.

“Walk me through that one?” Steve raises a brow.

“We can’t, sweets, because they’re only for emergencies.” Eddie says this like Steve is five, as if he's the one missing the mark. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Forget I asked. Alternate definitions welcomed, guys.”

“Back doors.” Argyle says.

“Oh.” Steve scratches his brow with a pinky nail, “So no one’s even noticed you guys, have they?”

“Oh, they’ve noticed, Steve, baby. But just like any other injustice of the world all these—bawk bawk bawk—chickens are couped. Conditioned to ignore wrong doing if it ain’t immediately doing them wrong!”

Instead of engaging in whatever all that means, Steve squats and levels them all with a scrutinizing stare.

“How high are you guys right now?”

Argyle frowns. Starts to speak. Stops. Studies the joint he’s nursed back to health. And then fixes Steve with a serious look.

“Dude, I think the real question is how high aren’t we right now? Like, one could posit that, like, we can and should, be like, higher.”

Steve closes his eyes. Breathes through his nose.

“I don’t even—christ—get yourself unlocked. I’ll pay for the tickets. You’re still getting the Nachos, babe.” Steve says.

“Fair enough." Eddie nods. "Suppose the cause could pause for a free hour and a half of thrills and chills.”

When everyone is free and standing, Argyle’s striking up the lighter again. Steve steals the joint he’d been meaning the light right from his lips.

“If I’m buying, you assholes sure as hell owe me first hit.”