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[caiautoinsurance]

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[masryno]

Best Car Insurance Companies of may 2023

Best Car Insurance Companies of may 2023  It is always recommended to do your research and compare multiple car insurance companies to find the best   option for your specific needs. Here are the top 8 car insurance companies based on various sources  USAA Amica Mutual State Farm Geico Nationwide Progressive Travelers Farmers These companies have consistently received high ratings for customer…

[groovyangelkisses]

Jax with a girly girl who wears the shortest shorts and tight tops <333 just love the idea of this big bad biker corrupting this innocent girl

anon, you are an absolute dollbaby & this speaks to my very soul. jax teller needs a sweet girl, it's true!!!!! i listened to venice bitch by lana for this <3

cw: hyperfem!reader, innocent!reader, slight size kink, protective!jax, nsfw

the first thing jax ever noticed about you is how wide-eyed you looked at others around you. amazed or heartbroken, your sweet eyes held that same vulnerability that made him, and the entire club instantly enamored by you. you weren't a crow eater, couldn't muster up that type of confidence (or keep your eyes on anyone other than jax) for long enough, and all the guys knew it.

tig was the first one to spot you, quietly shuffling into teller morrow with the request of fixing a flat tire. your hair sat in a ponytail on your head, leaving a dainty necklace to show off your neck that slowly grew warmer with the intense california heat. and when jax peers around the corner to see why juice has suddenly stopped working, and prospect stands completely still, he sees you in your sweet little orange tube top & tiny jean shorts & sneakers & long white painted nails and moves a little quicker in his walk over to you.

in fact, he tugs on that same ponytail while asking you about your car, where you're from, where you bought that sweet little tube top, if you've ever been on a bike, if he makes you nervous. and the rest of the guys are flabbergasted. jax? fawning over the sweet, curious little thing that waltzes unto the shop, all coconut & jasmine scented? sure, it's not the most insane thing to happen, but the fierce protectiveness that jax immediately adapts is. like when you bend down to sign the paperwork for your car repairs, he stands behind you, afraid your distressed levi's will lift and show off those sweet orange panties he caught a glimpse of earlier when you leaned into your passenger seat to grab your insurance.

and when you straighten around to show him your paperwork, smiling & proud, his hand resting on the frayed posters of gemma's office, effectively boxing you in, he gently tells you "you gotta be careful when you lean over darlin' not everybody is as gentlemanly as i am— what're you lookin' at dickhead?!" before excusing himself with a light, fleeting touch to your hip before chasing half-sack down to point a strong finger in his face & tell him to leave the female clientele alone.

he loves your height difference, how you peer up at him with such wonderment, and even devastated confusion when you learn of some of the innerworkings of samcro. he absolutely has to fight off his cuteness aggression so he doesn't immediately smush your cheeks in his big hand, bring your other hand to the front of his jeans and purr "too fuckin' cute, you gotta cut it out or i'm gonna blow a load right here, sweetheart." and he looooooves the breathless look that overtakes you, and the slight creeping smile that adorns your face— adapting to him, to his never-ending need to feel you, just as needy and wanting as he is.

your naivety, your kindness, your ability to see jax as he's always wanted to be seen— strong, trying his best, all of it makes him even more enamored by you. you and your clicky wedged heels that always signify when you come to visit him at the shop, the scent of your bubblegum lipgloss floating through the clubhouse, your sweet, sad sniffle when he has to leave on a run. he loves all of it. loves that you need him, most of all.

[kentocalls]

gojo satoru | number one sfw. fluff. written for the wonderful @courtneedsleep happy birthday wonderful soul 🍰

It’s never a good idea indulging Satoru outside of the normal routine of class, cafeteria, cookies and sleep. Rinse and repeat, easy, simple, wonderful. 

But today, today you are so disoriented when there’s a knock on your door and who other than the white haired blue eyed almost dragon plops down on your bed. Did your roommate let him in again?

The sun is barely bleeding through your drawn curtains. “Yoooo, awake yet?”

“It’s too early Satoru.” You grumble and hide under your pillow, maybe you’re imagining him and he’s not really here. But his laugh fills your room, that loud heheheheh, “Too early for what? Come on, we’ve got places to be.”

The way he lays his entire body on you, the way he’s making himself impossible to ignore.

“We?” Satoru maybe, you? You’re going to sleep. The round of exams is finally over, you deserve to not make an intelligent thought for at least 36 hours.

“Sleepyhead, let’s go.” He’s poking at your neck, trying to pull the pillow from your grip, and there’s one thing you’ve learned, giving into Satoru is easier than holding out.  “Fine, ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes but not to snooze, chop chop, get ready.”

What’s got him so bossy? Sitting on your bed like that, acting like he’s at home, critiquing your choice of outfit but not telling you where exactly you’re going to be going. “It’s not even 7am Satoru, give me a hint.”

“Nope. Oh, wear that, I like that color.” Of course he adores the baby blue hoodie in your hand. But he’s rushing you and you don’t understand why, offers a “Well, someone has to be responsible.”

You have to laugh, it’s the only way to get through this morning.

  🕶️

You step outside to find a giant SUV, you wonder how Satoru convinced Suguru to let him borrow his beloved vehicle. But hey, this means you can nap, “Our chariot awaits!”

“Y…you’re driving Satoru?”

He makes an exaggerated stab to his heart, “You wound me, you know that. I have not gotten us hurt in a vehicle for like months.”

“Right but you’re dangerous on a bicycle Satoru this is a mental death trap.”

He ignores you, opening the car like he were some butler, with a strict posture and a slight bow, “After you milady, sit back and relax.”  He slides into the driver seat with a huge smile and confidence of a fifty year old, accident free, pays his insurance on time driver. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” The look he gives you as he pits his right arm around the passenger seat and leans to look back and reverse the SUV with one hand.  You’re not blushing it’s just the rising sun heating up your cheeks. You try not to tense. He should not look this handsome reserving an SUV.

“No faith in me? I promise, I can drive this just fine.”

“Keep your eyes on the road Satoru.”

  🕶️

He’s in a good mood for someone who shares your disdain of early mornings.  It has you smiling and of course, even though his eyes are on the road, he notices. “Super duper excited about my awesome, spectacular. amazing surprise right?”

“It’s nice to see you smiling too Satoru.”

He hums, “Well it’s a special day, so I’m excited.”

A special day? The end of exams? “I planned this for a while you know, it’s going to be epic, it’s going to ruin all other days for you. Sorry not sorry.”

Do people really celebrate the end of exams? “Planned for a while?”

“You’ll see.”

“Can we get coffee?”

“Nope.”

“A bagel?”

“Nope, you’re fine.”

  You last a whole ten minutes.

“Satoru, where are we going?”

“Wow, patience, patience..”

“Patience? And that too from Gojo Satoru’s lips? Wow. Did I pass out during my exams? Is this heaven?”

“It’s nice to know I would be in your version of Heaven, I’d be the best looking angel there.” You roll your eyes, decide to refrain from opening your mouth, least your best friends ego fill up the car and leave no room for anything else.

  🕶️

In all the lushness California has to offer you, you’ve never been a forest girlie. You don’t do bugs.  And this is exactly where Satoru brought you, to a forest? Bug central? “Umm…”

His eyes are shining bright, “Trust me, come on.”

He holds out his hand, drags you through winding trails and questionable dirt pathways.  It is really really green in the forest, the air feels cooler, your eyes seem to relax in this space. There’s many places to look but then you hear water.

Is it possible? A waterfall in a forest?

Satoru looks at you with a huge grin, pulls out his phone, starts to walk backwards, “I wanna remember this.”

“You’re going to fall.”

“I’m willing to fall for you again, hey, eyes on me please.”

The pathway leads you to the most beautiful sight, a soft waterfall with shimmering water falling into a tranquil lake? Oasis? Some other term for calm body of water that escapes you because it’s still too early in the morning.  Birds are singing, the air is crisp, there’s even a ray or two of the sunlight filtering through patches from the trees.  It feels unreal.

“Satoru this is—“ he’s gone.

Oh my god, did he fall into the lake?

“Satoru?”

The silence and serenity that was peaceful before now feels too big and too scary. “Satoru!”

“Hey!”  His stupid cute face and hand wave at you from behind a tree, you walk over ready to tell him it’s rude to leave you in a peaceful forest oasis when you spot….

“Is that my blanket?”

“Shh! Take in all of the sights please.”

It’s your blanket alright, the one you take when Satoru drags you to outdoor sports games. It’s surrounded by candles, some are hanging like in Harry Potter and you leave it to Satoru (the Architect) major ot figure out how to create such a magical ambience. There’s a picnic basket and two small stools, a bunch of wrapped gifts, those little black dustballs from the Ghibili movie you like and a birthday cake.

A birthday cake.

It’s your birthday. Oh shit, your birthday is today.

“Is…is this for us?”

“It’s for you, gosh are you still sleepy?” He tucks you under his arm and drags you over to the cozy nook he’s set up. “It’s perfect right?”

It is perfect. Private. Romantic.

“This is so sweet Satoru.”

“I told you today was a special day.”  Has you sit down and puts on a party hat on himself and you.

“Happy birthday!”

“This is really, so sweet, Satoru—“

“It took me so long to set up, you’re happy like? You like it?”

“Satoru, it’s magical, I feel like a video game character.”

He chuckles, “Good. We’re also going to that beach board walk you wanna go to.”   But isn’t that a two hour drive away?

“That’s so far, we don’t have to.”

“I want to, if you smile like this, I absolutely have to.”  He…he can’t say stuff like that. This is Gojo Satoru, your best friend. The only person you’d share your fries with, the only person who always saves a seat for you, the only person you’d follow deep into the forest. He ca’t…

“Mmm, so worth it.” Why is he eating ice cream? Where did the ice cream come from. He follows your curious eyes and pulls a tub of your favorite flavor from the picnic basket. “Yesss, I love ice cream for breakfast.”

“Yeah, and seeing you smile like that, worth it.”

“Why thank you, dentists better hire me asap.”

“They should, best smile in the world, right here.”

Stop, it makes you blush so hard. “You’re in such a good mood on my birthday?”

“Can’t I be? You were born today, you breathed your first breath today, my best friend, my favorite person, alive today. It’s magical.”

“Your favorite person?”

“My absolute favorite.” He looks so serious, even with that goofy smile.

“I’d say you’re maybe…. one of my top five.”

“Hey!”

“Fine, for today, I’ll allow you to be my most favorite.”

“Oh you’ll allow it for one day? Then I’ll do everything to keep it this way.” How his hand finds yours and squeezes it, how you let him do that, who cares, it feels nice, his hand is warm. “Are candles in the forest okay?”

“They’re fake, I adore you but I won’t start a forest fire in your name. You’d lose your dentist modeling contract.”

“So considerate.”

“Aren’t I? Gosh, I’m such a catch.”

  🕶️

“You really really don’t have to take me to the beach boardwalk, this is good enough.”

“Nah, I’m gonna spoil you today and you can’t stop me.”

It’s really the nicest thing someone has done for you, you two talk over exams and classes and eventually bicker about what the best ice cream flavor is. If it ends in you squishing Satoru’s cheeks until he gives in and declares vanilla the most basic flavor ever then so be it!   Once back at the car you realize how high the sun has gotten, how quickly time passes when you’re with him.

“Hey come on, your day just started.” He reaches out to grab the picnic basket you stubbornly want to carry, he’s already holding the blanket and all the candles. “Let me, please. I’m going to be really nice to you today, okay? I gotta save my number one favorite person spot after all.”

“Hmm…Gojo Satoru not being annoying to me?” You make a dramatic gasp, “Are you an alien?” Your hands find his face as he leans into your touch, “Satoru? Satoru are you still in there?!”

He doesn’t roll his eyes as you expect, only shakes his slightly and looks at you like you’ve placed the first freshly baked chocolate croissant onto his plate. He looks at you not like a best friend should, or would. “Satoru?”

It’s a moment, you think there’s a moment where both of your breaths stop, eyes fall to each other’s lips and no one. Does. Anything.

  🕶️

 At the beach boardwalk you wish you’d gotten a leash for Satoru. Stupid long limbed handsome pole walk so fast, you latch onto his hand and don’t let go for the rest of the day. It’s fun.  Satoru loves anything fast and you like how he screams when he gets scared. Such a fun day, if the stupid sun wasn’t blaring in your eyes, but Satoru has a solution for that too. He places his glasses on you, “I gotta be your number one favorite person after all.”

There’s a lot of junk food to be had. “I bet you can’t eat this pickle ice cream sandwich.”

“Bet I can.”

“Bet you can’t.”

“I bet I can and you’re going to have to do anything I say for a whole day Satoru.” He scoffs, he does what you say most of the time anyways. Only you haven’t noticed, or pretend not to. Satoru can’t tell anymore, doesn’t care, only interested in making your smile last the whole day.

The pickled ice cream sandwich is….an acquired taste. By the time you make it back from the line it’s melted and the bite you take is huge, if you can down it in three bites you win the bet but you pause after the first one. Satoru has such a sappy look on his face. You, green ice cream on the tip of your nose and corner of your lips.

His thumb reaches out before he can stop himself; he knows you have napkins in your hand but wipes at your bottom lip. “Mmm, it’s interesting.” As he licks at his thumb.  You can almost imagine the slow motion and k-drama music playing in the background but chalk it up to, Satoru being….Satoru.

He wins at every game on the boardwalk, you have more than enough giant stuffed animals to carry and buckle up in the SUV. There are going to be fireworks at sunset,  Satoru and you decide to watch from the parking lot.

You’re holding hands in that way couples do, interlaced and playful. Anyone walking by would consider you a couple, are you? Maybe? Or is he just being nice because it’s your birthday.  But really, be honest with yourself.

Would Gojo Satoru wake up early for anyone else?

Would he create a magical forest breakfast for anyone else?

Would he drive two hours in California traffic for anyone else?

Are you really “just” a friend?

  “Uh oh, hey, I wasn’t annoying at all today, why the frown?”  Because you’re catching feels. He’s pulling at your hands and you let your body fall closer to his and this is simply a hug between friends. Nothing more.  There’s no reason for your heart to beat as quickly as it does when he lays his head on top of yours. “Talk to me, was it the deep fried Oreo?”

“No.”

“Deep fried Poptart?”

“Deep fried ramen.”  You shake your head, let your arms wrap around his waist and smell his stupid Wild Spice body spray. You hate how you know exactly which scent he buys.

“Nope.” You give him a squeeze.

“Deep fried Nutella?” He pulls you closer.

“Deep fried Twinkiees?”

“We should probably, really, eat a salad.” He only hums and you can feel the vibration in his chest.

“What if, and big if, what if I like you.”

He makes half a laugh, “Well, you should, I really like you too.”

🕶️

And ooh, do you do it? Do you pull back and look at him and tell him what exactly you mean by liking him. Because you like-like him, like wanna hold his hand all the time like him, like wanna always wear his hoodie and squish his face when he’s annoying like-like. Perhaps even kiss him silly when he has that beautiful smile on his face.

When you do poke your head up, when he does make space and looks down at you, a slight tilt to his head, eyes soft, curious, concerned. “Hi.” You squeak out.

“Well, hello.” He says back, softly. Eyes falling to your lips and back to your eyes. You could count his eyelashes up this close, but his lips look awfully pretty, awfully plush, awfully awfully soft.

“These are mine.” His hands toy with his sunglasses perched on the top of your head. He pulls them down over your eyes and back up, he does this a few times. He wants to see your eyes but you look so cute with his sunglasses on. Anything to distract himself from doing something stupid (like kissing you.)

“Nu uh, they’re mine now.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “Are they? I gave you so many other gifts.”

“I want them.”

“They’re one of a kind, no can do, they’re extra special, limited edition.” He’s teasing, half serious, his “stern” scowl twitching at the corners into a smile.

“I’m special, limited edition, one of a kind too. I think I need these for my dentist modeling career Satoru. Don’t you want me to be famous.”

“Hmmm….I rather keep you here, to myself.”

“I thought I was your favorite person, why don’t you want me to—“ He’s leaning in closer, so so so close. “to…”

“To what? Leave me? Why would I ever want that?”

“Why….why would I leave you?”  Oh no, abort abort abort, you asked out loud. Abort, get away from his arms, get away from his face. It makes you stupid, but you can’t pull out of his hug. He grins, “Ohhh you like me."

“Shut up, I don’t.”

“Mmmm Hmmm, making me work extra hard to be your number one, but I’m already there.”  Shush him, use your hands, shush him!

But Gojo Satoru licks the palm of your hand. Cackles at your shriek. “Oh you like me soooo much, how did I never notice?”  He’s babbling, rambling, that ego is going to fill the entire parking lot.

You pull your hands away, naturally finding his cheeks, naturally the best way to shut him up would be with your own lips right?

Right?

[gutsyns]

Summary: Ridiculously indulgent. I was curious about what Johnnys personality might be like if he had survived the fire and went to prison, etc, and this was the result.

Moving to Tulsa was definitely not on your bucket list of things to do during your first official year of being an adult, and yet here you were.

The place was a paradox; divided between the upper class suburban areas where people paraded around in poodle skirts and pearls, and the other side of things where the houses were worn down, some as far as decrepit, and the glint of steel from a drawn switchblade was more common than a simple, “Hey, how are ya?”

You glance around, weary, as your father and sister unload the van. Once upon a time, you may have found yourself living on the other side of things, rubbing elbows with future soccer moms of Tulsa, making nice with all of the high school baseball stars that would one day take over their fathers car insurance companies, but not anymore. Not since the years of hospital bills, that had built up to the point that college was a mere dream to be scoffed at.

You sigh, kick some dirt. Squint at your new ‘home’. It’s almost identical to all the others around the block, small and kind of run down looking, but at least all the windows are intact and there’s a decent sized porch. Summers in Tulsa, at least, were supposed to be hot and you could almost picture it already; sprawled out on a deck chair, ice cold lemonade in your hand.

If you weren’t working all of the hours that god sends, that is.

“Are you going to stand there looking dim, or are you going to come help us?” Your sister snaps from the back of the van, a few boxes already stacked in her arms.

You scowl at her, but dutifully move forward and take the boxes out of her arms. She sighs, rubbing her forearm against her damp face. Her hair is lank with sweat, face flushed, but she’s still as pretty as she ever is. Blonde and blue eyed, she’s the perfect specimen for California, but you’re not sure how that’s going to translate here in Tulsa. It makes you pause, staring at her as you worry your lip.

“What?” She asks, sharp. “What are you looking at? God, you’re being so strange today.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” You snip back, “Not like we’ve just uprooted our entire lives to move to the bum-fuck of nowhere.”

Your sister scowls at your defensiveness and you glower back, but there’s a sad little voice in your head that wonders at how the two of you got here. You used to be so close. Twins, after all, were generally each others first best friends. And that’s what you had been, for a long time, before your hangout sessions began to be held in hospital rooms instead of the mall, and instead of your biggest worries being what you were going to wear to prom, it was now how were you both going to hold together all of your fathers broken parts?

“Girls.” The aforementioned man chimes in. “That’s enough.”

He sounds disappointed enough that you break eye contact with your sister- a sign of weakness that normally couldn’t be afforded- and scrutinise him. His plaid shirt hangs from his slight frame, and theres a bone-tired air that seems to cling to him. The dark circles under his eyes whisper that there’s not much left of the day for him to see, so you relent and take a pointed step back.

Your father smiles slightly- or, at least tries to. It comes out as more of a grimace, than anything.

“This is supposed to be our new start. Just-“ he breaks off, hissing through his teeth. “Just try to pretend you like each other, okay? At least until we get unpacked, that’s all I ask.”

Guilt tugs at you, so you nod your head without another word and begin to make the trek into the house with the boxes. You plop them down in what you assume will be the living room, glancing around at the cobwebs and dust trails along the window pane.

California suddenly feels like a lifetime away, and a yearning fills you that nearly knocks the breath out of your lungs. You wonder, idly, what your friends back home are doing right now. You picture them laughing, skin warm and glistening under the ever-present sunshine. You close your eyes, and can almost smell the salt of the ocean, feel the warm glow of sunshine against your skin.

But then you open your eyes and you are still here, in this dust infested, shell of a house. You watch your father and sister struggle to get the boxes from the van, bickering under their breaths with one another, and something inside of you seems to go quiet. You shut out the feeling of the sunshine, because what good is it here, in this place?

You push it down, into the same box that you’ve locked away the sound of your mothers laugh, the smell of her favourite perfume, and you shove it deep, deep down. Your fathers right; this is supposed to be a new start.

There’s no room for the past here.

-

It’s six in the evening before you make your way downstairs, a thin sheet of sweat coating your entire body and pounding in your temples that won’t seem to go away, no matter how much water you throw back.

Between you, your father and your sister, you all managed to make a good amount of progress to the house. It wasn’t even close to being finished, but nothing more would be done tonight.

You comb through the rooms, looking for your sister. You’d left her downstairs around an hour ago as you’d hauled your father, exhausted and heavy limbed, to bed. The two of you had shared a knowing glance when his eyes had started to droop, and it hadn’t taken long for him to succumb to his exhaustion. Unfortunately this was just a new part of normal life, and something that you both inevitably had to deal with.

The downstairs is quiet, no sign of life. You cock your head, ears straining and… is that music?

You follow the low thrum, and it brings your out onto the porch. Your deck chairs from back home have been pushed onto it clumsily, and theres a small table placed between them, portable radio and two tumblr glasses shoved onto it.

Your sister is sprawled out on of the chairs and, when you make a low noise of questioning, she blinks up at you lazily and gestures with a bottle of bourbon.

“Want one?” She questions, and it’s the white flag that’s needed.

“Or ten.” You sigh, sliding into the chair beside her.

It’s quiet for a moment, just the low thrum of the music and the tinkling of glass against glass. The night air is pleasant, warm, and as you shotgun your drink and gesture for another, you almost feel at peace.

“He sleeping?” You sister asks eventually, voice muted.

“Mhm. Gone before his head hit the pillow. He’ll be out until the morning.”

She hums in response, and it is quiet again. You stretch out in your chair, preening in the fading sunlight. The alcohol is making you more relaxed, pliable, and a small smile tugs at your lips as you shield your eyes from the daylight.

“What are you doing out here anyway?”

“Trying to pretend I’m still home.” Your sister says, wistful. “People watching.”

You look at her then, eyebrow arched in question, and she gestures vaguely towards the other side of the street. You lean up on your elbows, squinting, and then finally see what she means.

Across the way is a house that, outwardly, looks much the same as your own. There’s a group of boys out the front of it though, rowdy and boyish as they holler at one another, jumping on each others back, even going as far as to wrestle each other to the dirt. One boy has another in a headlock, while another shouts at them to behave from the front door. Two of them are simply laughing at them from the porch, trails of smoke billowing as the light up their cigarettes.

“Huh.” You comment, interest peaked despite yourself.

Your sister senses this, of course, and sends you a sly grin as she pours you both another drink.

“Should we go say hi?”

You shake your head almost instantaneously.

“Aw, come on.” She pouts. “We’re here for the long haul. Might as well make friends, right?”

You don’t even have time to say just how much of a bad idea that is before she’s jumping up, adjusting her skirt and fluffing her hair as she does so. She stumbles, ever so slightly, and you send a fleeting glance at the bottle of bourbon on the table. Just how many of those had she had before you’d come downstairs?

“How do I look?” She asks, smiling coyly.

Perfect, you don’t say, like always.

Your sister already has an over-blown ego, there’s absolutely no need for you to inflate it any further.

“This is a bad idea.” You say instead. “The people around here aren’t like the ones at home. You heard uncle Miles, this place can be dangerous. Like, real dangerous. Like, killed dead dangerous.”

She rolls her eyes and sends a pointed look towards the boys across the way. They’ve migrated away from jumping on each-other, and are now having a contest to see who can do the best back-flip off of a car. Someone is eating a whole chocolate cake with a fork.

“Yeah, they look real dangerous.” She drawls, shrugging at your dumbfounded face. “Suit yourself. Enjoy trailing around our dust-infested house. I’m going to go find myself some fun.”

She grabs the bottle of bourbon and flounces off the porch without another word. You stare after her for a moment, temples pounding with an on-coming tension headache. It’s a hard burden to bear, being the only person in your family with a lick of common sense.

Stubbornness flares in you as you seethe, watching as your sister hollers a greeting to the bewildered boys, who stop what they’re doing rather abruptly as they watch her approach. You take a small sip of your drink, then another larger one as you watch them hesitantly approach her at the gate.

Screw it, you think, let her make her own mistakes. Why should you always be the one to clean up her messes? So, you stay on the porch and you watch. You watch as she gradually wrangles an invitation into the garden, you watch as the sun begins to fade away and they pass the bottle of bourbon around, you watch as she does her own perfectly executed flip off of one of the cars- which makes you roll your eyes, because you were the one who taught her that- and you watch as, eventually, they all begin to migrate into the house.

And that is where you draw the line- because uncle Miles was very detailed with his warnings about your new found home, and as annoying as she might be on any given day, you’re not about to allow your sister to become a statistic.

Steeling yourself, you force yourself out of the safety of your front porch, and make your way to the other house. It’s about as dark as it’s going to get now, and a cool breeze nips at the exposed skin on your legs. You curse yourself for a moment, forgetting that you were still only in a soft pair of shorts and a tank, but there’s no time to change.

There’s a warm glow coming from the windows of the house, and you can hear rambunctious laughter coming from inside. Gritting your teeth you knock the door, soft at first, then louder when you get no response. There’s a pause in the laughter, soft mumbling, and then light pours into the darkness as the front door opens.

“Well hey there, darlin’.” A clearly inebriated man drawls. “What can we do for ya?”

You take him in for a moment, eyes trailing from his well-worn Mickey Mouse shirt, to his dishevelled greased hair. You blink, fumble for a moment, before finding your words.

“I’d like my sister back, if that’s okay.” You deadpan, leaning forward to knock the door away from his sprawled arm, almost making him topple forward in the process.

“Hey, just wait a damn minute-“ he yelps, affronted, but you push past him and storm into the house.

Multiple pairs of bewildered eyes stare at you but you ignore them, scanning the room for your sister. As soon as you do, you resist the urge to smack a hand to your forehead and grind your teeth once more.

She’s perched in the lap of a man- a man who is giving you an extremely nasty glare- and she is absolutely wasted. Her skirt is askew, blonde hair dishevelled and her eyes narrow in on you, glassy, as she gives you a dopey smile and a little two-fingered salute.

“Oh hey twin!” She crows, words slurring. “You finally made it to the party.”

“Twin?” You hear someone mumble. “They sure don’t look like twins.”

You flush, despite yourself. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it prods at old insecurities and gets your back up all the same. You glare at the general direction of where the voice came from, before focusing back on your sister.

“Home. Now.” Your voice leaves no room for argument, but she’s not picking up on it.

“Don’t be a party pooper.” She pouts, twirling a strand of the mans blonde hair around her finger. He responds with a cool, measured smile that makes your temper skyrocket.

Without warning you charge further into the room and towards your sister, cheeks flushed.

“Are you actually kidding me right now? We have an entire store to set up tomorrow- or should I say I do, since you’re going to be too hungover to be worth a damn.”

At that your sister stills, before sending you a cutting smile that is all to familiar. You brace yourself, but the words still sting all the same.

“Worth a damn,” She parrots, voice cruel. “We all know the only reason you’re on my ass so much is because, out of the two of us, mom knew I was the only one who would be worth a damn.”

And, god, you know that she’s drunk. You know that she wouldn’t say this sober but, the thing about your sister when drunk, is that she is cuttingly honest. She has a reputation for it and, well, maybe deep down there’s a little voice that’s telling you she isn’t wrong.

It takes the breath from you and you gasp, eyes stinging with tears you refuse to let fall. She too blinks, seeming to realise what she’s said. Her hand flies to her mouth, but you shake your head.

“Go home, now. “ You say softly, voice breaking around the edges. “Or so help me god, I will tell dad about every shady stunt you ever pulled back in California. You want to be the one to explain to him why exactly I bailed you out of jail so many times?”

Her eyes narrow, any hint of remorse disappearing in an instant.

“You wouldn’t.” She hisses.

You send her a measured smile, cocking a brow.

“Try me.”

She jumps up from the boys lap, squealing in frustration. Her shoulder knocks roughly into yours as she storms towards the doorway, and you watch half in dismay and half in exasperation as she totters across the road, stumbling and falling a few times. She was going to give you holy hell tomorrow if her legs were scratched up.

You let out a bark of laughter, though it is sucked dry of any humour. There’s absolutely nothing funny about this entire situation- shit, about your entire life.

“God, this day sucks.” You say to no one in particular.

There’s an extraordinarily loud silence in the room, and then-

“Uh- hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. Anything we can do to help ya?” A voice says, sounding unsure and half terrified.

You blink, glancing around the room. Multiple pairs of eyes stare back at you, looking absolutely horrified. You feel a sudden dampness on your face and, with no small feat of embarrassment, realise that you’re crying in a room full of strange men that you have to share your new neighbourhood with.

The one that spoke just has to be about the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen; golden hair, soft and fine, and the most expressive eyes. His full lips are turned down into a sympathetic expression as he stares at you, and you feel yourself flush a bright, brilliant red in response.

“Uh, no, I’m good.” You stutter out, mortified. “I’m awfully sorry about barging in like this.”

The full extent of your actions hit you like a brick to the gut, and you’re so embarrassed that you find you can’t look any of them in the eye.

“S’all right. Lord knows it’s been gettin’ awful tame ‘round these parts. We were all overdo a bit of excitement.” His tone is encouraging, but you don’t dare look at him again.

“I should really get back.” You stutter out, staring determinedly at the wall. “Y’know, make sure she’s okay.”

“Sure.” His soft voice returns. “Hey, Johnnycakes, you mind walking her back?”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary-“

You say, at the same time the mean looking blonde pipes up.

“Why’s Johnny gotta do the charity work?”

Someone steps forward though, directly into your line of vision, and you gasp when you see them. A dark haired boy, tall in a lanky- stretched out kind of way. He’s clad in denim jeans and a black t-shirt, dark skin scattered with discoloured markings that your brain somehow associates with those of burns.

His eyes assess you as you take him in- and, god. His eyes. You’ve never seen eyes like that, so dark that they’re basically black, framed with lashes that would make any girl green with envy. It’s his facial expression that gets you more than anything though: completely stoic, not letting anything in or out.

He’s just about the most intimidating person you’ve ever seen.

“I don’t mind none.” He says, voice deep and raspy. “S’long as you don’t.”

You feel as though this is a test, somehow. He’s watching you, eyes flat and blank, but it’s like he’s waiting for something. What, you don’t know, but it feels important nonetheless.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Johnny.” A younger looking boy pipes up, smiling shyly when you make eye contact with him. “He’s the best of us, really.”

You take a deep breath, eyeing Johnny. He stares back, impassive, then quirks an eyebrow in question.

“Well- sure, then. I guess. Thank you.”

He nods once as he grabs a denim jacket from the sofa, still impassive and then makes an aborted gesture towards the door. You follow him, shaky, but a voice stops you before you can fully exit the threshold.

“Hey, wait a sec.”

An older man approaches, tall and muscular. He looks the oldest of the bunch, maybe mid-twenties and he’s sporting an apologetic look on his face, hand outstretched with a full bottle of bourbon in it.

“Take this. Them hooligans in there just about polished off the whole of your bottle, s’only fair.”

You stare at him for a moment, wide-eyed, before shaking your head in protest.

“Oh no, really, it’s fine. Looks like my sister certainly had her fair share of it anyway.”

There’s no point in trying to explain that there’s never exactly a shortage of liquor at your place, that you all share the same vices when it comes to coping with life- or, more specifically, the curveballs that it liked to throw.

The man is insistent though, going as far as to lean forward and press the bottle into your hands.

“Take it as a sorry then. We’re really not that bad over here, honest. I’m Darry. That one there is my brother Soda-pop.“ He gestures to the handsome one with the soft voice, who smiles, then to the little shy one. “And that there’s my other kid brother, Ponyboy.”

You blink at him, wondering if you’re being taken. When his expression doesn’t change, you offer a wry smile.

“Unique names.”

“You bet.” He offers a smile in return, then hesitates. “We really are sorry ‘bout your sister. Didn’t mean nothin’ by it, she just seemed like she was looking for a friendly face.”

You snort at that, grasping the bottle none-too gently and giving a short eye roll.

“That she was. I’m just glad she found you guys instead of-“

You break off, not wanting to offend them. Darry nods though, grim understanding painted on his face. He scrubs a hand through his hair and gives a curt nod towards your house.

“Nah, you’re right to worry. Ain’t much good about this neighbourhood, but we’re not the ones to be worried about. Get on home now, yeah? Johnny won’t let nothin’ happen to ya.”

He looks at the other boy- man?- over your shoulder, who gives a curt nod in response. With a small smile, Darry shuts the door, taking any of the light that was pooling through with him. You take a sharp breath, suddenly unnerved, and feel Johnny’s eyes on you in the night.

Christ, this whole situation is insane. Why did you agree to let a strange man walk you home? The normal, rational part of your head is screaming at you right now. This is exactly how every horror movie starts, and you’ve walked yourself right into it.

“You fixin’ on sleeping on the Curtis’ porch tonight, or am I walkin’ ya home?”

His raspy voice brings you out of your own head and you gasp, spinning so that you’re now facing him. You can’t see what his expression is doing, but his words make you think he might be making fun of you. Though his voice stays perfectly blank, there’s something in it that you pick up on as nearly taunting.

“Well?” He presses once more, and you glower at him.

“Alright, Jesus. Let’s go then.”

Both of you are silent as you walk, the shifting of gravel under your feet seeming louder than usual. There’s a loud holler from down the street, followed by the smashing of glass and you jump, glancing frantically in the direction it came from.

“S’alright.” Johnny says. “It’s way on down the street. They won’t bother ya. Only fight that types got these days is with each-other.”

You glance up at him, and half of his face is lit up by the streetlights. He glaring straight ahead, jaw tight, clearly uncomfortable. You can’t help but feel bad.

“I really am sorry about all of this.”

Johnny’s jaw loses some of its tension, and he side-eyes you.

“It ain’t a problem. I really don’t mind walkin’ ya home. I’ll be headin’ back myself anyways.”

“Seems a bit silly to be walking me across the street though, no?” You ask, hesitant, but curious now that he seems to be opening up a little to conversation.

Johnny gives a small huff, eyes darting around the empty streets as he does so.

“Round these parts? Ya can never be too careful, doll.”

Something in your brains freezes, restarts and then goes on overdrive at his casual use of the pet name. You can practically feel your face glow, and it doesn’t help that you just know his eyes are on you. You choke slightly and trip over your own two feet, but strong hands grip your forearms and stop you from falling on your face. You glance up, and Johnny is looking right back at you. There’s something a little warmer in that obsidian than before, and it has your stomach doing confusing somersaults.

“Easy there.” He says quietly. “Ya alright?”

“Peachy.” You breathe. “You?”

He stares at you for a beat, confused maybe by the question, before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m alright. You go and get yourself inside now, okay? No more roamin’ around in the dark.”

When you glance up, the both of you are standing outside of your house. The porch light is still on, the radio from before still playing lowly on the table. You can see that light in the room your sister has claimed is still on, but the likely hood of her actually being awake is probably slim-to- none. Your fathers room remains dark, just as you left it. It’s strange to think that he could have slept through all of this; he never would have before.

An odd ache of loneliness creeps through your bones, wholly unexpected. You glance up at Johnny who looks like he’s getting ready to turn on his heel, contemplating.

“Do you want to come in?” You blurt out, not giving yourself a chance to take the words back.

Johnnys eyebrows all but crawl into his hairline. It’s the most expressive you’ve seen him all night. His dark skin flushes and, shit, it’s only then that you realise the double-standard behind your words.

“Not like that-“ you flounder, “I just meant-“

Soft laughter cuts you off and, in that moment, you wish furiously that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Anything would be better than this humiliation.

“Probably best I don’t.” He replies, gallantly attempting to taper off his amusement. “It’s late and I’ve work in the mornin’. “

“Yeah. Gotcha.” You choke out. “Look, thank you for walking me home. I’ll, uh, see you around.”

You’re about to spin around and launch yourself into the house but quick, deft fingers loop around your wrist and hold you steady. Johnny’s fingers brush lightly against your pulse point and, when you get the courage to glance up him once more, there’s something tentative in his expression. His dark eyes churn, and an almost-smile tugs slightly at his lips.

“See ya around.” He echos, thumb brushing your wrist firmly once more before he lets go, turning on his heel and striding down the dark street.

You stand there for a moment, dumbfounded, and watch him disappear. The moment is quickly shattered when another scream echoes down the street, however, followed by a deafening crash. You hurry up the porch, rushing into the house and locking the door behind you.

For a moment you remain still, back pressed against the front door. Your heart is thudding against your chest, and it’s not from fear- well, not exactly. You don’t know how to categorise this feeling. The only word that springs to mind is the very thing you spent your entire night trying to prevent;

Trouble.

[brehaaorgana]

THIS WEEK, IN "MY ALCOHOLIC DAD DIED,":

I am really glad that I know just enough about how estate handling works to be dangerous.

While we did our best with cleaning the apartment, and I left my contact info as next-of-kin when I returned the apartment keys, the rental management company reached out to my Aunt in order to let her know they'd identified bio-material (ew) and will need to hire professional cleaners.

This is part of the email they sent:

At this time, bio-material has been identified in the unit. As this is the case, we will need to have the unit treated by a specialty team to complete. Once the service is complete, we can send you the final statement. As this service is costly, we are requesting quotes from multiple company to provide you the best end price. I wanted to make sure you all are aware where we are currently with his account. Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns I can help with.

Now, my dear followers, have you spotted the bullshit that even a specialty team couldn't treat?

I'll lay it out!

Once the company was advised that I am legally next of kin, they have no business emailing anyone else but me! I signed return keys paperwork in person, in their office, by writing "on behalf of the estate of (my dad's name)" then my name and then following it with "(Next of Kin, Acting Executor)." I probably didn't need to do any of that but I won't be caught signing anything that even remotely looks like I am taking personal legal liability lmfao. I provided my address and contact info as the next of kin. They demanded seeing MY legal id in order to let me into the apartment. Failure to update best contact info is a bad look.

"this service is costly," neat! You can start by applying his security deposit and making a claim with renters insurance if he notified you of any. You should file that claim before his rental insurance finds out he's dead. You cannot tell me your fucking expensive apartment didn't have a hefty security deposit.

"in order to give you the best end price" oh, really? Gee THAAAANKSS that's SOoOoOoOoo THOUGHTFUL!!! 🙄 This is a bullshit thing to say. You don't need to give me options lol. You should be choosing the most affordable option because —

Sweethearts, your final statement isn't being paid by ME. It's being paid by my father's estate. You are making the gamble there's any money in it. I'm not legally liable to pay any of my father's debts, including your final apartment bill. The liability is with the estate. You can choose the most expensive option and if the estate has no money, then you're the one left with the bill.

Basically what a stupid email to send. You should choose whatever price you're willing to lose entirely in case the estate is insolvent. Get in line with all his credit cards, this dude didn't own property, or his car, and declared bankruptcy at least once lmfao.

probate court will take months, my father was probably broke, and unluckily for you I EAGERLY look forwards to my dad's broke ass screwing over a greedy California landlord. ✌🏻

And I know I don't have to pay a single red cent from life insurance payout if I get anything.

[lucie-newman]

Precipitous.

It's a fitting word. It's the cliffs at Black Beach, California where the rocks drop twenty jagged feet into clear blue water. It's her bare wet feet and the balance and the moment she looked over the edge. It's the breath she took before jumping, stretching out all her limbs like a starfish, and dropping. Freefall. Unstoppable.

It's labor.

This isn't written about in advice columns, or played out on screen. Labor doesn't announce itself at the doorstep. The back pain she's struggled with all this last trimester hides a multitude of symptoms; is the symptom. And her water doesn't break right away, her contractions don't build slowly. There are no Braxton Hicks. She's three weeks early, she's alone when it starts, and, as her father would say:

"Give it what you got."

She's out by the old chapel Cage rebuilt taking pictures when it happens. When the back pain she's been rubbing at with increasing annoyance twists suddenly inward and something unspools inside of her and -

Oh!

Oh, fuck!

It's a contraction. It's pain squeezing her tighter and tighter until the camera drops from her hands. And when it loosens, when she can breath again, she thinks: that's fine. Just one. One strong contraction. Nothing to -

And then the second piggybacks the first.

Reception is a little spotty this far off the road. There's a voice in her head that sounds like her father, like her older brothers, like a drop of reason in a bucket of insanity. Not advised. But then, she didn't think she'd go early. When in all her life has she ever even been punctual? It's one day late on car insurance with an apology and a promise. It's two hours late to a party with a smile and a story.

But then, this isn't her entrance.

Panic makes a nest in her chest for a moment, scratches at her heart. She rests back against the bark of a willow tree and lets it play out. There's no use fighting it. The baby's awake, kicking at a rib urgently when a third contraction ripples through her. "Yeah, yeah," she tells them, breathless. She sweeps a hand from breastbone to hip. "I'm afraid too."

Of what's happening, yes. Of motherhood, surely. But of all the rest too. Age and boredom and bills and vulnerability. It's the pulse under her skin that she's been ignoring. The old unspoken fear, rare as it could be, that what happened to her mother could happen to her.

But honestly, fuck that.

She pushes herself from the tree and walks best as she can down the beaten path toward her car. She's left her backpack, her water bottle, and her camera behind clutching only at the phone in her hand and waiting for those signal bars. It's a journey made in broken acts. Halted by the contractions that take hold and squeeze. And damn if those classes don't mean shit. She can breathe. She does breathe. But none of that helps when she's being funneled downward. So she curses. Lot's of fucks and shits and then some more inventive things that would make her grams blush. She kicks at a fallen log, half bent over when one particularly strong one takes her under, and that helps too.

She thinks of birth playlists and the classical music some women luxuriate in - she thinks of epidurals and the sweetness of a warm bath right now. She thinks for one horrible moment that she's not going to make it out of the woods. She trips, cuts her knee open on the bits and brambles of the forest floor, and screams. Frustrated. Primal. Her throat aching from it. If there are hikers up this early, before the forecast showers they'd hear her. But there's no answer except the birds - scared mute for a moment - and then swooping back in to fill the silence. There's no choice though. She pulls herself up and keeps walking.

The hike out to the chapel took thirty minutes, the return trip takes just over an hour. She's coming out to the gravel parking lot when those bars flicker back and she could cry with relief. She's in no state to drive so she dials 911 as she drops onto a large rock near her car. The operator is a sweet, older woman that stays on the line with her for the twenty minutes it takes to get an ambulance out there.

"You got a name, Lucie?" she asks, talking her through a contraction.

"Several." She bites out. "Thinking I got to-" she grunts and the woman waits it out with her, "-see them you know? Got to see if they look like a Piper or a Ziggy."

"It's a good day this one. Great birthday."

"Yeah?"

"National Chocolate and Peanut Butter Day."

It makes her laugh, makes her unclench her fist just a touch. "You look that up?"

"I did. You want to know who they'll be sharing it with?" She does and the woman says "Woody Harrelson."

"Sweet."

"And Kathryn Hahn."

Lou huffs, tips her head back into the sun. "Legend."

The baby twists, moving fast beneath her hand. She almost can read their agitation. Wishes she could tell them it's going to be alright but her water breaks before the ambulance arrives and she starts to hyperventilate.

"It's okay Lucie. They'll be there any minute. Can you hear the sirens?" She does. "Your going to be just fine, mama."

Things move fast after that. She's loaded into the back of the ambulance and strapped to monitoring equipment. She watches the squiggles of her baby's heartbeat to distract from the pain, from the contractions that start piling up one on top of the other. This was supposed to be a long process. Hours upon hours, those were the words. But it's not. She asks is something is wrong, her voice thin with worry. Someone holds her hand. Someone else asks if they should call her partner. She laughs, tells them no, then thinks of her siblings. She pulls up the group chat and shakily types out two words.

Hospital. Now.

It's not eloquent. It's not joking. And she's speeding down the country road she learned to drive on when the urge to push hits. She thinks she should have called Ari. She thinks he should be here. She doesn't want to be alone for this. But then, she isn't really. She hasn't been alone for near on nine months.

In the end, none of her siblings will make it there on time. In the end, she doesn't even make it there on time.

Her son is born pink, angry, and loud two minutes before arriving at the hospital.

[interestinginfographics]

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[anonymusbosch]

have seen the "you really bought a tesla?" post a couple times now and it's another one of those things that I think people often have misconceptions about

1. the cheapest Tesla (model 3) was the world's bestselling electric car from 2018 to 2020, when it was ousted by the 2nd-cheapest Tesla (model Y). the model Y was the single best selling car in the world in the first quarter of 2023. they are very popular.

2. the cheapest Tesla is $40,240 new. with the $7,500 tax credit for electric vehicles, a price tag of $32,740 puts it on par with the Honda Odyssey minivan's base price or with slightly nicer trims of SUVs like the Subaru Outback or Toyota RAV4, and only about $100 more than a new Prius Prime. People in California may also qualify for an additional $2000-$5000 rebate for buying one, bringing the price down to $27,740 - just $1000 more than a new Toyota Camry.

3. the concerns about safety are often weighted against an incorrect baseline - so far, current data show that electric vehicles aren't more likely to catch fire in an accident than gas vehicles and are actually less likely to do so (but this is difficult to get solid data on. there's a bunch of articles reporting on a study by an insurance company showing a massive reduction in fire risk but the underlying data are highly suspicious).

4. the big point of distrust that I think is grounded: recalls. some of the 22 (22!) model 3 recalls are ~trivial, like "the driver's side sun visor may be missing the airbag warning sticker", but some are more serious, like "the airbags might not be correctly connected to the car." it seems like a lot of the issues have been addressed on the current (2023-2027) line, but the recurring problems with things ranging from minor software issues to pretty serious function issues are good cause for concern. None of the ones I've read about seem as severe as Toyota's "oops the accelerator gets stuck and your car can't stop moving forward" recall or Ford's "oops the engine explodes" recalls [plural], and even the worst ones are on par with things we've seen before especially from US automakers (glaring at Ford, GM, and Ford again). Ford and GM are both guilty of continuing to use known bad parts for >5 years with (in one case) thousands of fires and (in another) over a hundred deaths. moreover, GM's Bolt EV is under a 100% recall for the 2017-2022 model years for high fire risk and Ford recalled over 100,000 hybrids for fire risk - so is Tesla worse than GM or Ford? I don't know if I'd say that, but I'd really want a car I buy to live up to a higher standard.

in short, the most popular teslas by a huge margin are the two most affordable ones, which are fairly accessible to consumers (especially in California). the risk of a tesla exploding or catching on fire is not, as far as I can tell, higher than other cars (and it appears to be less likely per million miles traveled than some other EVs on the market). teslas still have a bunch of quality issues, and they still have some stupid design choices - but you can easily buy a shittier car for a lot more money, particularly an American-made one.

[caiautoinsurance]

[diytransport]

Smooth Sailing: A Guide To Car Shipping From California To Hawaii

Are you dreaming of sunny drives along the coast of Hawaii with your beloved car by your side? If so, you're in luck! Shipping a car from California to Hawaii is easier than you think. This guide will show you how to navigate the process smoothly and effortlessly. Say hello to stress-free car shipping! Car Shipping From California To Hawaii

Benefits of Using a Car Shipping Service

When shipping your car from California to Hawaii, opting for a car shipping service can offer numerous benefits. First and foremost, using a professional service saves you the time and hassle of driving your vehicle across states and overseas. Instead of dealing with your car's wear and tear, let the experts handle the transportation logistics.

Furthermore, reputable car shipping companies provide insurance coverage for your vehicle during transit. This added layer of protection ensures peace of mind in case any unexpected incidents occur. You can rest easy knowing that your car is in good hands throughout the process.

Additionally, a car shipping service lets you focus on other aspects of your move or travel plans without worrying about transporting your vehicle separately. It streamlines the relocation process by taking one primary task off your plate so you can concentrate on settling into your new location stress-free.

The Process of Shipping a Car from California to Hawaii

So, you're moving from the sunshine state to the tropical paradise of Hawaii and need to ship your car across the Pacific Ocean. The process might seem daunting at first, but with the right information, it can be smooth sailing.

You must choose a reputable car shipping company that offers services from California to Hawaii. Research different companies read reviews, and compare quotes to find the best fit for your needs.

Once you've selected a company, they will guide you through the paperwork and documentation required to ship your vehicle overseas. This typically includes proof of ownership, insurance information, and details about your car's condition.

Next comes scheduling the pick-up of your vehicle. The car shipping company will arrange for a carrier to transport your vehicle from California to a port in Hawaii, where it will then be loaded onto a cargo ship for transit across the ocean.

During transit, you can track the progress of your vehicle online or through updates provided by the car shipping company. Once your car arrives in Hawaii, it will go through customs clearance before being delivered to its final destination on the island.

Understanding the logistics of car shipping from California to Hawaii

Shipping a car from California to Hawaii involves intricate logistics due to the distance and the need for transportation over water. The process typically starts with preparing your vehicle for shipment, including cleaning it thoroughly and removing personal belongings. Once ready, your car will be loaded onto a carrier vessel across the Pacific Ocean.

Your vehicle will be secured during transit to prevent damage or movement. It's essential to work with a reputable car shipping company that has experience handling shipments between these two states. They will complete all necessary paperwork and assist you throughout the journey.

Upon arrival in Hawaii, your car will go through customs clearance before being released to you or a designated representative. Understanding these logistics can help make the car shipping process smoother and less stressful for you and your vehicle.

The cost of car shipping from California to Hawaii

One critical factor to consider when shipping your car from California to Hawaii is the cost. The price for transporting your vehicle across the Pacific Ocean can vary depending on several factors, such as the size and weight of your car, the shipping method chosen, and any additional services you may opt for.

Typically, the cost of shipping a car from California to Hawaii can range from $1,000 to $1,500 or more. It's essential to request quotes from different auto transport companies and compare their rates to find a service that fits your budget while still providing quality service.

Remember that cheaper is only sometimes better when it comes to car shipping. Research each company thoroughly, check their reviews, and ensure they are reputable and reliable before making a decision based solely on pricing. Investing in a trustworthy auto transport service can save you time, money, and potential headaches.

[namorslutfanfiction]

hi, idk why but i have the notion of you living in california and i was wondering, would you recommend it?? i know it's expensive but average how much would you spend on a month?? i'd love to know what you think about it. (and if you don't live there i'm sorry lol). hope you're doing well!

Hello, thank you for the ask. I'm finally back on here today to reply to my inbox so you asked at a good time.

I do live in California. Northern. About an hour north east of San Francisco. My town is actually in the top ten most expensive in the country when you compare income verses cost of living. For some perspective, I was looking at a single room apartment or even a studio and unless its government housing for low income, rent starts at 1600 and can go up as high as 2200, if you don't want to live in a bad neighborhood.

As of now I am still unemployed after losing my job earlier this month. I was making decent money there at $22 an hour. As I look for jobs I'm lucky to find anything close to that, that isn't completely out of my wheelhouse of skills. I was also living almost paycheck to paycheck at $22 an hour because I have quite a bit of debt and a car payment/insurance.

Most people out here have roommates or if they can afford their own place usually work as tradesmen or in the medical field. I was working in the casino industry but had an hour commute. Traffic in Norcal is much better than Socal. But the interstate freeways definitely get kind of shitty during rush hour.

Pros of California

Decent weather most of the year. We pretty much always have some sun, barring this past crazy winter.

Very populous so lot's of fun places to go within an hour or two drive no matter where you live. I'm literally an hour from San Francisco, 45 mins to the state capital, 20 minutes to Napa/Sonoma, and there are several universities in the area which increases need for cool activities and outings.

Very diverse and liberal in metropolitan areas. Most people are actually really nice and chill.

Lot's of tech opportunities and start ups

Honestly a lot of industries have a big presence here so if you can put in the work you can find a decent job especially if you live in a big city.

Lot's of cool nature and hiking paths. It's a big state and we love to maintain some of the natural beauty. Beaches, mountain, forest, lakes and deserts. Bunch of national and state parks

No snow unless you're literally on a mountain

Lots of great authentic and diverse food.

Good place for furthering education. We have high level schools that are internationally renown.

We have a ton of farms and during peak seasons its super easy to get fresh produce for cheap from farmers markets, stalls, and fairs.

We have 9 international airports and have access to a lot of imported goods.

Most artists will have multiple CA stops on their tours.

Cons of California

Super high cost of living. Yes our average wages are higher than most states but it doesn't really cover how high cost of living is especially in metropolitan areas.

Rent and housing prices are super high throughout the state unless you live in a super rural area. Also very competitive.

Public transportation is not great even in the cities.

Traffic, especially in LA can add hours to a drive.

You have to have a car if you're not living in the middle of a big city. Most places in CA are pretty spread out and hard to navigate on foot.

WILD FIRE SEASON

39 Million people live in California the last I checked. Socal is more populous than Norcal.

You have to reserve camping spots like a year in advance at the best parks.

Housing shortage has led to a homelessness epidemic. See Skid Row in LA. And those apartments are also super expensive even surrounded by vagrants.

Sometimes the fog is so bad you can't see a few yards in front of you. Mostly during the morning. I used to drive home at 3 am after work and i was going 40 on the highway because it was so foggy.

That's all I can think of at the moment. But if you have any other questions feel free to message me or send another ask.

[captawesomesauce]

I was tagged a long time ago by @unflappable-wolf and @serenity-made-visible and I swear it’s been on my to-do list!!!! I just got swamped with classes and life. 

So here we go!

1. Are you named after anyone?

I am! I can't quite recall the connection, I know she died in either the Pogroms or the Holocaust, but her nickname was Chashka, which they then named me Yechetzkel from. (chetz/chashk)

2. When was the last time you cried?

I honestly don't remember. It's not something that happens all that often, but probably in frustration back when I was dealing with the King Asshat. That man could be so bellicose, so asinine, so fucking belligerently stupid... you'd end up screaming until tears came down your face.

He was the type of person who never suffered consequences, and always made sure that someone else did, often me... for his dumb ass choices. Like when he was driving drunk, with a suspended license, after stealing my truck, and crashed into a parked car and then claimed to be me to the insurance companies so it went on my record and raised my rates.

   3. Do you have kids?

Nope.. never wanted any. Never saw the point. I was happy having a cat, and I love giving all of my time, attention, and affection to W... why bother having a kid?

   4. Do you use sarcasm alot?

I do but I try not to. I understand how deep it can cut a person, and even if I think it's funny, or others think it might be funny, it's important to know how it affects the person I'm saying it to, as well as how I'm being perceived. Even if it's just being sarcastic about a situation, I don't want to be known as the one who complains/is negative/is THAT guy.

It's an ongoing process though, because if I go full on Mike.... dude.. it's a thing!

   5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

This is a hard one for me, because the first thing I notice is their demeanor. I spent so much of my life in high stress/dangerous places that it's really ingrained in me to look for threats. Things like always watch a persons hands, more than their face, always look at what side they favor when they walk or stand, it's probably the side with a concealed weapon, always look at how WHAT they're telling you with their body movements, their twitches, their looks, and everything else.

I hate that that is the first thing I notice. I hate that others who have done what I've done / know what I know, also notice that I'm hand watching and can pick me out easily.

When I'm not in "that mode," i think the first thing I notice is a persons hair. Dunno why, but it's just the thing that stands out more than anything to me!

   6. What’s your eye colour?

Brown. (probably my only short answer for these things but what else can I say lol)

   7. Scary movie or happy ending?

I don't do scary movies. I don't like being manipulated like that, and that's how they all feel. Especially jump scares. The music, the lighting,... not a fan. I know all movies do that, but with scary.. it just seems more blatant and rubs me the wrong way.

   8. Any special talents?

I'm a cat bed. Put a cat anywhere near me and they'll find my chest or lap, revel in the heat, and sleep for hours. It works on W too!

   9. Where were you born?

Southern California! I've lived everywhere, but I always end up returning there. I still think it’s where I’m always meant to be. I’m happy elsewhere... but I miss socal, I miss the pacific ocean and being adjacent to everything that makes me happy... museums, bookstores, old places, new places. I hate the traffic, I hate the smog, I hate the earthquakes and the fires and the atmospheric river storms. I hate the hypocrisy, and the bullshit... and did i mention the traffic... cause I’ll say it again, i hate the traffic!

But it’s the best place ever. 

Also no hurricanes, tornados and one set of clothes all year round.  

 10. What are your hobbies?

I have a lot to be honest, but reading and collecting books is primary. I was never a big outdoorsman, I was never big on tv or movies, I was never THE sports guy... but books... I do love books. I find that the one thing I enjoy more than anything, now that I'm older, is reading the same story from different perspectives. I've lived long enough to really grasp the fact that there is no single narrative, there is no single right or wrong, and that everyone involved has their own story of what happened that is just as true.

I'll give you an example... There was a battle in Vietnam that involved a mechanized infantry unit with people on armored vehicles and dismounted infantry, a navy riverine boat unit, scout helicopters, transport helicopters, airborne forward air controllers, and attack helicopters.

I read 10 books that all talked about that single day... 10... all were memoirs ... this wasn't a big enough battle to warrant having books written about it like Agincourt, or the Tet Offensive, or 73 easting... it was a small battle, lasted a few hours, but god... how very very different everything was to each one involved.

The hobby I miss most is photography and exploring.... I'm so glad W and I got to spend a lot of time going places, all over LA, even by subway, and trying and doing so many cool things before COVID broke out!

 11. Do you have any pets?

Not anymore. I still miss Mystic (the AwesomeCat) so very much, as well as Sarah. I still think about them every day and every night, and they’re still a major part of my dreams. I can’t believe it’s been this long... but it’s funny .. not long after Sarah passed, Mystic showed up, and shortly after he passed, W showed up... so ... make of that what you will lol

 12. What sports do you play/have you played?

In highschool I lettered in Football, Baseball, Soccer, and Basketball. I played rugby in the Marines when deployed with UK troops, and when I was fighting fires in Australia. I also once stood still, very still, on a cricket pitch and had no idea what was going on, where I was, or what I was supposed to do. I'm not even sure if I was part of the game lol

 13. How tall are you?

5'7 which is exactly tall enough to fit 2 big cats and 1 small cat on my chest, stomach, and lap, and a giant lab dog between my legs with his head on my hip.

 14.Favorite subject in school?

When I was young... none. I hated math though, because I was undiagnosed with dysgraphia... but it also affected how I felt about all subjects because I struggled to write what I knew.

Once I got into college, I'd say environmental science & physical geography. I like looking at things spatially and temporally, I like seeing cause and effect and looking at how things are interconnected. From reintroducing key species to correct ecological damage, to even just looking at how much a single fire can affect an area short term and long term. Few people think about how a small fire can affect a towns water suppy for decades, or how burn severity is a better metric than acres burned because of how it affects re-growth and possibility of additional fires in the area.

15. Dream job?

I know this might sound bad but I don't have one. Getting through each day is hard enough... I love that I can help W and we work so well together because it means I can focus on what's important to me... Spending time with her and being happy.

I never wanted to be a firefighter, but I did it for 20+ years. I never wanted to be an Emergency manager, but i have all the pretty paper now. I never wanted to do GIS, but we see how that turned out lol... I did want to be a Marine... and I'm glad I did that.

Now I just want to live a very long long long life, and be very happy with W and hopefully another cat one day.

[rideinstyleblog]

Find the Best Auto Transport Services Near You

Thorough research on a nationwide auto transport companies is crucial when it comes to moving your car for a smooth shipping experience. Choosing the right service can save you time, money, and stress. Explore key factors to consider when selecting an auto transport service, by evaluating honest reviews, pricing transparency, and ensuring your car's safety.

Researching Auto Transport Services

Before handing over your car to an auto transport service, it is crucial to conduct thorough research. Start by gathering a list of reputable companies that specialize in vehicle transportation. Look for auto transport services that have positive customer reviews and ratings from trusted sources such as the Better Business Bureau or online review platforms.

Additionally, consider reaching out to friends, family, or colleagues who have previously used auto transport services for recommendations.

Important Factors to Consider During Your Research:

Experience: Choose a company with extensive experience in the industry to ensure they have the necessary expertise and knowledge.

Licensing and Insurance: Verify that the auto transport service holds all the required licenses and insurance coverage to protect your vehicle during transit.

Services Offered: Determine if the company offers the specific services you require, such as enclosed transport for high-value vehicles or international shipping if needed.

Cost: Obtain quotes from multiple companies and compare their pricing structures. However, remember that the cheapest option may not always be the most reliable or secure.

Customer Support: Evaluate the responsiveness and helpfulness of their customer support team. A reliable company should be easily accessible and able to address any concerns or queries promptly.

Preparing Your Vehicle for Transportation

Once you have selected a reputable auto transport service, it is essential to properly prepare your vehicle before handing it over for transportation.

This will help ensure its safety during transit and minimize any potential damage.

Steps to Prepare Your Vehicle:

Clean Your Vehicle: Thoroughly wash both the exterior and interior of your car before transportation. This will allow you to inspect it more accurately upon delivery.

Remove Personal Belongings: Remove all personal belongings from your vehicle to prevent any damage or loss during transportation. Auto transport services typically do not cover items left inside the car.

Document Existing Damage: Take detailed photographs of your vehicle from different angles to document its condition prior to transportation. This will serve as evidence in case of any disputes regarding damage that may occur during transit.

Secure Loose Parts: Ensure that all loose parts, such as antennas or spoilers, are properly secured or removed to prevent them from getting damaged or causing harm during transportation.

Check Fluids and Tire Pressure: Before handing over your vehicle, check the fluid levels (e.g., oil, coolant) and tire pressure. Maintaining proper fluid levels and tire pressure is crucial for the well-being of your vehicle during transit.

Remember, taking these precautions before handing over your vehicle to an auto transport service will help ensure a smooth and worry-free transportation experience.

Regulations and Guidelines Imposed on Reliable Auto Transport Services in California

California Public Utilities Commission (CPUC)

The California Public Utilities Commission (CPUC) plays a crucial role in regulating and overseeing the auto transport industry in California. The CPUC ensures that all auto transport companies operating within the state comply with various safety standards and guidelines. They require auto transport carriers to obtain proper licensing, insurance coverage, and maintain a satisfactory safety record. Additionally, the CPUC sets rules regarding pricing transparency, dispute resolution processes, and consumer protection measures.

Licensing Requirements

To operate legally in California, auto transport companies must obtain a Motor Carrier Permit from the CPUC. This permit ensures that carriers meet certain criteria related to financial responsibility, safety performance, and adherence to applicable laws and regulations. By obtaining this permit, customers can have peace of mind knowing they are working with a licensed and regulated company.

Safety Standards

The CPUC enforces strict safety standards for auto transport services operating within California. These standards include regular vehicle inspections, driver background checks, drug testing procedures, and adherence to federal motor carrier safety regulations. By implementing these guidelines, the CPUC aims to ensure the safe transportation of vehicles across the state while protecting consumers from potential risks.

Need to transport your car? Find trusted auto transport services with great reviews. Simply navigate this website and get quotes to ensure safe shipping for your prized possession!

[nysocboy]

Insurance companies go to great lengths to produce clever commercials, but they rarely venture into the realm of beefcake. That's why the Eastwood Insurance cowboy was so memorable. In California in the 1990s, a series of at least 30 tv commercials showed the Cowboy riding up to a befuddled car owner, almost always a man, who was paying too much for car insurance, and "saving the day" with Eastwood's low, low prices.

The best commercials had him in the shower, naked except for his white cowboy hat, cruising...um, I mean talking about insurance to another naked guy, who seems more interested in his physique than his insurance policies.

Nudity in unexpected places is always stunning.

Besides, he had quite a smile.

The Cowboy was played by Jason Bradley Jacobs, who has only two acting credits on the IMDB:

A record company executive in Selena, 1997, about the Tejana singer who topped the Latin music charts and sang at the Astrodome.

Maurice Charpentier in The Feast of All Saints, 2001, based on the Anne Rice novel about "the Free People of Colour" in 19th century New Orleans, "a dazzling yet damned class caught between the world of white privilege and black oppression."  Anne Rice -- shouldn't there be vampires?

Jason provided the voice and artists' model for a character in a comic book and animated series, Plowboy in the Cornmeal Universe, created by D.W. Newman.  It is set in the Appalachia of 1978, the era of Jimmy Carter, Hee-Haw, and The Dukes of Hazzard, and emphasizes the "raw physicality and blatant sexuality."

I couldn't find anything about the work except for a one-page website full of broken links.  I guess the project was scrapped.  Too bad -- looks like these were gay country boys. 

In 2015, Jason tweeted that he was voicing Raitliff Manor, by D.W. Newman, about the ghost of a Civil War soldier haunting a house.  Nothing on Google about it, but I imagine he was a gay ghost

D.W. Newman's biography on IMDB says that he's a Kentucky country boy, "openly bisexual," with a degree in astronomy, and a bodybuilder. 

No D.W. Newman is listed on bodybuilder websites.  In fact, all I could find out about him was a donation to L.A. teachers and a "like" for Balboa Hybrid Swim Shorts.

There are some nude photos on hook-up sites.

Twitter/X has links to Jacob's other projects, but they are all broken. No new tweets since 2015. Links to his personal website and Facebook are broken. No Instagram.

A frustrated series of broken links and dead ends, with only one real moment, the memory of the Eastwood Insurance Cowboy. And even that is fuzzy.

The full profile, with nude photos, is on RG Beefcake and Boyfriends

[infoblastadministrator]

Moving To and From Los Angeles With a Car Moving Service

Relocating can be stressful, especially when moving to or from a busy city like Los Angeles. From managing your belongings to adjusting to a new environment, every step can feel overwhelming. One challenge many face is transporting their vehicle safely. That’s where a car moving service comes in. With the right company, your car can be shipped without hassle, letting you focus on other parts of your move.

Why Use a Car Moving Service for Your LA Move?

Driving your car long distances isn’t always practical. If you’re relocating across the country or moving within California, using a car moving service can save time, reduce wear on your vehicle, and lower the risks associated with long drives. Here are a few reasons people in Los Angeles turn to professionals:

Traffic Stress: LA is known for its traffic. Driving in or out of the city can be exhausting and time-consuming.

Long-Distance Moves: Moving to another state? It could take several days to drive your vehicle across the country.

Protecting Your Car: Long drives add unnecessary mileage and can lead to damage or breakdowns. A shipping service ensures your car stays in top condition.

How Car Moving Services Work

Car moving companies offer convenient services designed to fit your schedule. Here’s how the process typically works:

Get a Quote: You contact the shipping company and provide information about your car, pickup location, and destination.

Choose a Transport Option: Many companies offer open or enclosed carriers. Open carriers are more affordable, while enclosed ones provide extra protection.

Schedule Pickup and Delivery: The company picks up your car on the scheduled date and delivers it to your new address or a designated drop-off point.

Receive Your Car: Upon delivery, inspect your car to ensure it arrived without damage.

How Much Does It Cost to Ship a Car to or from Los Angeles?

The price of using a car moving service varies depending on factors like distance, vehicle type, and shipping method. Here are some general estimates:

Short-Distance Moves (500 miles or less): $500 - $700

Cross-Country Moves (over 2,500 miles): $1,200 - $1,800

Enclosed Transport (for luxury or classic cars): $1,500 - $3,000

It’s worth noting that prices may also change based on the time of year. Moving in the summer, when demand is high, might cost more than moving in the winter.

Finding the Best Auto Shipping Company for Your Move

Choosing the best auto shipping company is crucial to ensure a smooth relocation. Look for companies with these qualities:

Positive Reviews: Read customer feedback to get an idea of how the company handles deliveries.

Insurance Coverage: Make sure the company provides adequate insurance for your vehicle during transit.

Clear Communication: A good company will provide updates throughout the process, so you know when to expect your car.

Experience: Companies with years of experience are more likely to handle unexpected issues efficiently.

Top-rated auto shipping companies also offer door-to-door service, so you don’t need to worry about taking your car to a terminal.

Tips for Preparing Your Car for Shipping

To ensure a smooth process, follow these steps before handing over your car to the shipping company:

Clean Your Car: Remove personal belongings and take photos of your vehicle’s condition.

Check for Leaks: Make sure your car is in good working order to avoid any issues during transport.

Reduce Gas Levels: Most companies prefer cars with 1/4 tank of gas or less to reduce weight.

Disable Alarms: Turn off any alarms to prevent unnecessary disruptions.

Benefits of Using a Car Moving Service in Los Angeles

Whether you’re moving to LA for work, school, or a fresh start, using a car shipping service can make your transition easier. Here are some advantages:

Saves Time: Driving from the East Coast to Los Angeles takes several days. Shipping your car allows you to fly and save time.

Reduces Stress: No need to worry about traffic, navigation, or breakdowns along the way.

Protects Your Car’s Value: Avoid unnecessary mileage and wear, especially if you have a luxury vehicle.

Moving to or from Los Angeles can be a complex process, but using a car moving service simplifies things. It saves you time, reduces stress, and keeps your vehicle safe during transit. When choosing the best auto shipping company, look for a reliable service with positive reviews, good insurance coverage, and clear communication.