#Palm Springs surf club

[freshdanks]

#palm springs #palm springs surf club #goldenvoice surf club #skream

[disappearingground]

Jenny Lewis: soundtrack of my life

The Guardian September 14, 2014

The singer-songwriter on her mum’s amazing vinyl collection, her days as an LA raver, and why jazz helps clear her palate

By Laura Barnett

Born in Las Vegas in 1978 and raised in California’s San Fernando Valley, Lewis started out as a child actress. She sidestepped into music in the late 90s, co-founding the LA indie four-piece Rilo Kiley. She has gone on to perform with her boyfriend, fellow musician Johnathan Rice, as one half of the duo Jenny and Johnny, and released three solo albums. Her latest, The Voyager, is out now on Warner Music.

THE FIRST RECORD I EVER BOUGHT Pass the Dutchie by Musical Youth (1982)

I must have been seven or eight when I bought this novelty reggae song on seven-inch. I was a working actor at the time – I’d been in 100 commercials, and guested on various TV shows – so I had a few dollars in my pocket. As I recall, this cost me $3.50. I took it home and couldn’t stop playing it: I was just obsessed with the upbeat rhythm. I had no idea what reggae music was, but it spoke to me. The fact it was being performed by children – Musical Youth were all kids – made me start to think that music might be something I could do, too. Of course I didn’t know what a dutchie was back then, though. I do now.

THE RECORD THAT INTRODUCED ME TO FEMALE SINGER-SONGWRITERS Gonna Take a Miracle by Laura Nyro (1971)

My mother had a great vinyl collection, and she was constantly playing female singer-songwriters. I first learned about classic song structures by listening to them, and Laura Nyro particularly stood out. Her voice was outside what you’d usually hear on the radio; that really appealed to me. I grew up singing with my mom and sister, so I loved its strong gospel feeling, with Labelle [a vocal group of the 60s and 70s, with Patti LaBelle as lead vocalist] backing Nyro. It seemed to fit in with the way we all related to each other as a family: whenever things were weird around the house, we’d sing a song.

THE ALBUM THAT SUMS UP MY YEARS AS A TEENAGE RAVER 3 Feet High and Rising by De La Soul (1989)

My mother’s records were formative for me, but when I became a teenager, I wanted to find songs that she wasn’t hip to. She was so hip, though, that I had to go outside rock’n’roll – so for about 10 years, I only listened to hip-hop, house and techno. My friends and I were all ravers – we went to those first underground raves in LA in the 90s, which were really wild. We were kids – 15 and 16 years old – driving around with strangers; we’d go to a shop at midnight on Melrose, and they’d have a little print-out with directions to the club. It could be out in Palm Springs, or downtown LA, or Orange Country; we’d get there at 2am and rave until 10. I can’t believe our parents let us stay out that late – I did sneak out my window a few times. But my mom was still down with hip-hop. She’d answer the phone to me, like, “Yo yo yo, what’s up?”

THE RECORD THAT REMINDS ME OF TRAVELLING Exile in Guyville by Liz Phair (1993)

When I was 18, I took a trip to Thailand with a friend. We stayed for a month. Bangkok was very raw, for a teenager: there were no cellphones, no internet, and the only music I had with me was this cassette by Liz Phair. I was writing a lot of poetry, and she embodied a talky style of songwriting that I found very accessible. I listened to the album over and over again on my Walkman. I remember vividly taking a tiny ferryboat from Bangkok to a little island, listening to this and thinking, “Holy shit, I hope one day I can make music like this.”

THE ALBUM I WISH I’D MADE MYSELF Wit’s End by Cass McCombs (2011)

This is the perfect folk record. The songs are so classic, and I really love his direct way of songwriting. I’ve met Cass a couple of times out at this surf shop in Venice Beach called Mollusk. It’s a tiny little place where all these LA musicians get together; you can drink beer, sit on the floor, and watch these great improvisers riffing off one another. I saw Cass play there, and he was amazing. It all comes back to the songs: they are of such quality that I always want to hear what he has to say.

THE RECORD THAT MOST INSPIRES ME AS A SONGWRITER Dead Dog’s Eyeball by Kathy McCarty (2005)

McCarty is a former waitress from Austin, Texas. She befriended the great Daniel Johnston, and decided to make this record of his songs. It’s one of the best, most story-driven collection of songs I know. They’re both simple and profound; each line punches you in the gut. There’s a really beautiful song called Hey Joe; it’s about depression and mental illness, but you’d never know that unless you knew a little bit about Daniel Johnston’s backstory [Johnston has been diagnosed with an extreme form of bipolar disorder]. With a female vocalist interpreting these songs, they seem so much more polished.

THE ONE THAT CLEARS MY HEAD Reunion with Chet Baker by the Gerry Mulligan Quartet (1957)

When you’re talking about your own music every day, listening to bands, going to festivals, you can kind of lose sight of your initial connection with music. Instrumental music – especially jazz – helps me refocus. Jazz was, again, something my mum always played around the house – but this record is particularly special. There’s something about its west-coast sound – two horns, trumpet, baritone sax; it’s just beautiful, otherworldly. I have it on vinyl and on a CD I bought so long ago that it’s covered in scratches. The album acts like a reset button for me: whenever I put it on, it clears the decks.

THE RECORD THAT KEEPS ME IN TOUCH WITH HOME The Very Best of Ethiopiques (2007)

My boyfriend Johnathan and I listen to a lot of world music together, and we particularly love this beautiful compilation. When I’m not with him, out on the road, I put on this record, and it’s like I’m home again. Modern technology makes being apart much more manageable – I can just Skype him when I’m in hotel rooms doing my nails, or something – but this record makes me feel like he’s here with me. It’s so soothing; it’s like liquid morphine.

#publication: the guardian #album: the voyager #year: 2014 #mention: mother #mention: childhood #mention: sister #person: johnathan rice #mention: traveling #mention: music taste

[madiiscn]

closed: @heyits-asher location: surf's up

"I want to surf." Madison had been in the shop for less than thirty seconds, before she had bounced up to the young man behind the counter and expressed this statement. She had a warm smile on her face, one that held a sincerity to it — despite the bluntness of her words, she was completely serious.

"I don't know how though. My country club back in Palm Springs never offered classes on that." If it had been golf she'd taken an interest in today, she'd have smashed everyone right out of the park. Unfortunately, she found that she preferred the water sport much more on account of the fact that the guys always seemed to be way hotter.

"Can you teach me? I mean, it's my birthday week, so you don't want to upset the birthday gods by saying no, right."

#( c starter. ) #( convo. ) #( asher ortiz. )

[catchsurf]

Jamie O’Brien dressed to impress in Palm Springs 🌴

#jamie o brien #who is job #whoisjob #jamieobrien #catchsurf #catch surf #odysea #palm springs #Palm Springs surf club #surf #surfer #surfing #tubed #barrel #barreled #j.o.b.

[lumosinlove]

Relic Keel

(Warnings in tags)

part i

Sirius woke up with the sun for one reason only. He wanted to see the far off, white sails of Lupin’s boat.

Some people came to Hogwarts Island for the yearly trade show in Helga. Some people came for the resorts. Some came for the waves, perfect for surfing. Some came for the history.

If Sirius hadn’t already lived there his entire life, he would have come for those white sails. But he’d always been here. This island didn’t let many go. Not even Lupin’s boat truly went. It always stayed in view, never even close to a dot on the horizon. Sirius only ever saw the tourists really leave. And they didn’t count. They were strangers.

Sirius pushed himself up from the mattress he’d dumped on the floor one day and never bothered with again, and glanced at Saint, who had fallen asleep on the porch hammock. A book was clutched to his chest. James got them for him, from the island bookstore or his father’s library. Anything he wanted. He even told Saint to keep them sometimes, but Saint never would.

“If I’ve read it, I’ve got it up here,” Saint would say. “I don’t need people asking questions about how I got them anyway.”

“Tell them the truth,” James would say. “I got them for you.”

Saint would just laugh. Everything about Saint was sunny, all the way down to his honey brown skin and bright smile, his golden hair and his amber eyes. Sometimes his laughs weren’t though. Sometimes things about Saint promised storms.

“Or one of the Gods,”—a Hollow word for Godric’s inhabitants— “could say I stole them,” Saint would always reply. “And it’d be all over from there for this St. Clair.”

St. Clair was the name given to all the kids of the island who didn’t have one. It was the name of Godric’s church and orphanage, and Saint Clair was the saint of the island. They thought they were doing a nice thing, giving orphans a name.

The Hallow called him Saint because he wasn’t one, though, and that was why Saint liked it. He wasn’t a St. Clair. He was no saint. No one was.

“Pretty fun,” Saint would laugh. “To be known for what you’re not.”

“Not to mention,” was another one of his sayings, “I get to go around telling all the people of the island that they can worship me in bed.”

Only Sirius knew his real name.

Hogwarts Island had four neighborhoods. Hot all year round, and just off the coast of Guadeloupe in the French territory of the West Indies Islands.

Your island paradise! said the sign on the main port dock in Rowena.

Sirius had spray painted that sign. More than once. Saint liked to replace the dice with site, just to freak people out a little. The tourists took pictures of it anyway, and then of each other. Zinc covered faces, or barely covered girls on spring break. It didn’t matter. They would all be gone in, at most, two weeks. Hogwarts was small, and the neighborhoods kept to themselves. Tourists were both a part of and outside the dynamic.

First, and northward, there was Godric. Money, money, money. Great manors lined the streets, built in the days of French occupation. They were still mostly filled with the old families—Potter, Lupin, McKinnon, Evans, Deveaux. Sirius always swore that more money went to these peoples’ golf courses and gardens and swimming pools than to food and water. It was also where the main hotels were. Griffin Beach was lined with villas and hotels and resorts, all either pointing outwards towards the endless ocean, or inwards, towards the pools and bars and Gryffindor Golf course.

In the western part of the island was Rowena. Rowena was where the island’s port was. It was where the tourists came in, only to get swindled into paying too much for crappy hotels, for their drinks, and for surfboard rentals.

To the East lay Helga. Anything anyone needed, they found it in Helga. Rows and rows of the finest craftsmen. Helga held the other part of Hogwarts’ main income. What the tourists didn’t cover, Helga’s treasures and their yearly trade show did. 

Finally, there was Salazar. The snake of the South, people called it, because it wound all the way out to the skinniest, most pointed part of the island. Salazar was equal part money and dirt. Salazar held more old families, more old money. The Montagues and Capulates, Saint liked to say, the Jets and Sharks. Lestrange, Carrow, Meadowes. Black. The houses, Gothic and looming and built within inches of each other, were the maze of the drug dealers. One quarter of it, at least. Normally, Sirius Black would have nothing but hatred for his home arrondissement, the one he hadn’t re-entered in almost seven years now, for fear of never escaping again, but Salazar had produced Dorcas, after all. And Dorcas was one of Sirius’ closest friends. Doras gave Salazar, if not a redeemable image, proof that it wasn’t a complete hell-hole. There were rarely any cross-over. Godrics stuck to Godric, Salazars to Salazar, and so on. Unless there was trouble.

But then there was The Hollow. It was a sliver of a place, right on the northern-most shoreline. Ironically placed beside Griffin Beach, just outside of Godric. A small slice of land dedicated to…no one really knew who. Runaways, like Sirius? Do-what-you-wants, like Dorcas? Godric-rich-boy-looking-for-a-thrill, like James? Or had you been born there, like Saint?

To the island, they were like the poor of Ancient Rome, slanting wood against the outside of the city’s walls for shelter. But it didn’t feel that way. Not to the people inside.

Some knew what they had done to end up there. Some didn’t. Everyone knew that was it though. You didn’t make it out of The Hallow. Saint liked to say that you had to make it in. Like some A-lister Godric club. A tangle of too low wires, stollen cable, junk yards and thatched, patched houses. More surfboards outside of houses than cars.

They called their little piece of wood leant against the Roman wall Grimmauld Place. Grim old place, in French. Sirius didn’t know why. It wasn’t grim to him. It had always been called that, forever, named by just another somebody that no one knew. A shelter, gorgeous and haphazard, built by different inhabitants over the years, that was half on the ground and half in the trees. Rope ladders, rope bridges. Spirals and spirals of it. Warm, hanging lanterns all the way up into the branches of the biggest oak tree Sirius had ever seen. Like fireflies. None of Godric’s window screen mania. You wanted the sun on your face, you wanted the ocean breeze, you’d deal with a few mosquitoes. Sirius knew that the sun, the sand between his toes, his friends, just a level below…it was worth it. He’d never forget the first time he’d seen it, Saint looking over the railing, much younger, and telling him to fuck off. He’d take it over the dark halls he had grown up in any day.

Sirius planted his feet on the floor and pushed himself up, going to the sink for a glass of water and so he could stare out the window some more. There it was. Sirius loved that boat. The sailor sailed it like they were trying to escape, too. Only, Sirius couldn’t think of a reason a Lupin would want or need to escape. He’d seen their house plenty of times, almost everyday when he went to work at the Potter’s. But that boat…it didn’t fit anything else about the Gods, except perhaps that they could afford it. Sirius loved that boat, he loved its billowing sails, and the looping script reading, Wolfsbane, its name, across the side.

The sky was just beginning to give up dawn, and Sirius wanted to be closer.

He put his glass down and shoved his feet into his flip-flops. Saint was closer to falling out of his hammock now, and dappled in the pale light between palm trees. Sirius gave the hooked fabric a kick, and Saint flailed awake.

“Fucker,” Saint said, one eye open and voice groggy.

“I can’t sleep,” Sirius said. “Let’s go do something.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost dawn.”

It was all Sirius needed to say. Saint threw a hand over his eyes before rolling to his feet and stretching his back. Sirius stared out over one of the railings of Grimmauld and all he could see was ocean. He looked for his boat, his white-sailed perfect thing, and then turned away. He’d have time to watch again at the beach.

The Hollow was grand to Sirius, mostly because it was the farthest away from Salazar that one could get. At this point, Godric, as much as Sirius hated it, felt like a point of protection. If Salazars hated the Godrics, they’d hate having to go through them to get to the Hollow even more. But the Hollow was great for other reasons.

Shack Beach was theirs. No tourists. No villas or hotels that shooed you away from the private bars and lounge chairs. It was empty, and so it was full. And the waves. Oceanic rollers that pushed you up, that let you get your feet under you, or forced you down beneath the surface in a tumble of salt and sand. Not so great during a hurricane, but glorious for this.

Sirius hefted his board under his arm before throwing it into the sand and stretching his arms back, then up above his head. Saint was doing the same beside him, his wooden, sea-soaked cross hanging around his neck.

“D’accord, Black,” Saint said. “Wagers?”

“Whoever gets the most air has to play lookout for Dorcas,” Sirius said. “And dinner.”

“High stakes,” Saint whistled lowly. “Fine.” Saint’s smile was sharp. “Go.”

They took off at a run.

The water, although warm, was the shock Sirius needed. Saint beside him, as always, and the unknown weight of creatures and water below them. It was terrifying and thrilling. The ocean floor was dark this early, but Sirius stared down at it anyway as they sat on their boards, waiting. They didn’t need light for this part anyway. Sirius could recognize the telltale pull of the tides in his sleep.

“Oh,” Saint drew out the sound, tilting his head back. “I feel it, baby.”

Sirius turned wordlessly back towards the shore, Saint following with a flash of a smile, as they began to paddle. Sirius felt the lift, the curl, heard the water begin to rush and rush, faster and faster. The water kissed his feet and hands. Sirius jumped himself up and let out a long whoop, laughing as he gained his footing with a few twirls before pushing himself up towards the crest. He curled around the top of the wave and there was the Wolfsbane again, just for a moment, before it disappeared to the sea again. Sirius, for a moment, had felt like he was sailing beside it, with it.

They could stay out there for hours, always had been able to, but Sirius had work soon. They went until Sirius felt thoroughly salt-drenched, lips parched. Dragging their boards, they collapsed together in a small thicket of palm trees, up the beach a little. It was like a small cave of bark and wind-rustled leaves. There were still a few stars visible, and Sirius closed one eye and connected them with his finger.

“Dipper?” Saint said.

“Just Orion,” Sirius sighed and dropped his hand. “We learned that in school.”

Saint snorted. “When’s the last time we went to school?”

“True,” Sirius laughed, then, “You should steal the Wolfsbane for me."

Saint looked over at him. “What is it with you and the Lupins’ boat?”

Sirius just shrugged. He didn’t know. “I miss sailing, maybe.”

“You know Kris will let you take one of his out at the marina,” Saint replied.

“I don’t want to get him in trouble. He already lends us the motorboat, anyway.”

“You’re all trouble,” Saint said, and then he knocked their ankles together when they had been quiet for a few moments.

“Well?” he asked quietly as the sun began to warm them.

Sirius turned to look at Saint, sand in his hair. He laughed. They both knew what that meant.

“That sort of day, huh?” Sirius said.

“I’m asking for you,” Saint said. “I can go wherever I please, Dorcas has Marlene, but you…” Saint made a tisking sound. “Oh, Sirius Black. You lonely creature of the sea.”

Sirius scoffed. “You’re always so romantic.”

“Come on,” Saint propped himself up on an elbow and pressed a warm palm to Sirius’ bare chest. “It’s nice. It’s nice because we know each other.”

“Why do you always do this to me in public places?”

Saint raised an eyebrow and looked around the empty sands.

Sirius knew Saint could feel his chest rising and falling beneath his hand, knew that if he dragged it down some he would feel Sirius stirring in his swim trunks. Saint was his best friend. It was easy with Saint. There was no risk of losing Saint. Except maybe to Saint Clair, but they never went to Salazar, and Salazar had yet to come to them.

“Come here,” Sirius sighed, as if he was entirely put upon, and Saint made a pleased noise and leaned down for a kiss. He tasted like the sea, salty and smooth. Sirius pressed a hand to his back, coated with sand.

“Sandy hand jobs,” Sirius grumbled into his mouth. “My favorite.”

“There’s no sand in my mouth,” Saint breathed out and threw a leg over Sirius’ hips, mouth moving down to suck at Sirius’ neck. Sirius let his eyes close, hand squeezing around one of Saint’s strong shoulders.

“That’s true,” he said.

The barely there light in the sky cast Saint’s skin in blue, his light curls taking on the color, too as he kissed down Sirius’ chest, whose breathing was coming faster. He bit playfully at Sirius’ hip when he reached the band of his swim shorts and Sirius laughed, hitting his head lightly.

“We gotta go soon.”

“So?” Saint looked up with one of his sharp smiles, his freckles sprinkling his brown skin and honey eyes.

Sirius did love Saint. They loved each other, in their own way. For a long time now, they had been all each other had. Some type of love had to grow out of that. It just had to.

He was warm and felt safe as Saint’s mouth slipped over him, nursing him slowly. Sirius threaded his fingers into Saint’s salt-tangled hair and let his head loll back in the sand.

Sirius didn’t relax often. Saint knew that because he was the same, even if he pretended he wasn’t. The closest Sirius got, besides this, was in the ocean. Something to focus on. Something to look for and be careful about. Something to love.

He breathed out slowly, trying to quiet his mind and pass all his attention to Saint. He was stiffening quickly to full hardness from the wet heat, and his hands in Saint’s hair moved with his movements, sounds soft.

Sirius let himself stare out at the ocean again. The Wolfsbane was filled with wind, the double pontoons tilted so that one was a little ways out of the water. He could only barely make out the sailor’s silhouette. He didn’t know which Lupin it was. They was skilled though, very skilled. Sirius would do anything to have a sailboat of his own that he could take out every single day. He envied the sailor.

It didn’t take him long to come, not with Saint knowing his body so well. Soon, he was open mouthed, back arching as Saint pulled his orgasm from him.

Saint smiled when he leaned back, sitting on his heels and tucking Sirius back inside his shorts. “Worship me yet?”

“Always,” Sirius panted. “What do you want?”

“Have you seen your mouth?”

Sirius hummed and surged up to kiss him before knocking him back into the sand. They wrestled, rolling and laughing together in the dune, before settling with Sirius on top, hands pinning Saint’s wrists.

“Go on,” Saint grinned, then parroted, “we gotta go soon.”

“So romantic.”

Sirius reached into Saint’s suit and took his cock, hot and throbbing into his hands, biting his lip at the way Saint’s mouth dropped open. Saint really was beautiful. Sirius thought there must be something wrong with him to not want him in the way that he should.

“Life’s not too bad,” Saint sighed after, as Sirius rolled to lay next to him again. “Island. Surfing. Sex. We’re basically The Beach Boys.”

Sirius laughed. “Basically.”

Saint made a disgruntled noise. “Is it weird that we aren’t in love?”

“Yeah,” Sirius replied. “It sort of is.”

“Do you wish we were?” Saint looked at his profile.

Sirius returned his gaze, their noses close. He nodded, sand shifting in his ear. “Sometimes.”

“Gosh, we suck.”

“We really do,” Sirius patted near where Saint’s swimsuit was still askew. “Literally.”

Saint let out a loud laugh, pulling his trunks up, and Sirius a long groan.

“Gotta go to work.”

“Poor baby,” Saint said.

“You also have to go to work.”

“Poor me.”

“You also owe me dinner. And your Dorcas’ look out. I won.”

Saint sat up. “Then I gotta go to work.”

Sirius smiled and looked back out over the waves. The white sails were pushing back West, towards Lupin House to dock. He’d have to wait until tomorrow to see them filled and tilting again.

~

Dorcas slung her backpack on while Saint all but forced the Jeep into park. She hopped out of the door-less side and turned to grin at him, elbows resting against the hot metal of the rusty blue sides.

“One hour,” Saint said, already kicking his seat backwards and pulling out his earbuds. “Then I have work. Don’t think I won’t leave you here.”

“You’re a saint, baby, really.”

Saint flicked his sunglasses down over his eyes. “Don’t I know it.”

Dorcas waved him off before jogging lowly around the back of the McKinnon’s gardens, skirting the gate until she found the bent out posts. She threw her backpack through first, before sliding through herself on her stomach. The manicured grass stained her tank top green in places, but Marlene wouldn’t care. Marlene was an angel. Dorcas was positive.

Marlene’s father, not so much.

Dorcas kept away from the vast windows until she could pull herself up one of the drain pipes that led straight to Marlene’s bedroom window. She crouched, sneakers wedged against roof tiles, and tapped on the glass.

At first, all Dorcas could see through the window was Marlene’s familiar bedroom, the sunlight partially reflecting herself back at her, her chin length dark hair, backwards hat and tank top. In the rest, Marlene’s bright walls, once white but now covered with posters and Marlene’s paintings. Concert posters, random letters from the Hollow’s old abandoned movie theater marque that Dorcas had brought her, and the oil paint in swirling shapes or stroked to form friends’ faces. Dorcas saw her own face many times, and the sight was warmer than the hot sun.

Then, Marlene was there, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She pressed her forehead to the warm glass briefly before pushing the window, sticking with the heat, open.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Dorcas said.

“D,” Marlene sighed, and pulled her in.

Marlene was an angel. Dorcas was sure.

~

Saint felt uneasy in Godric. He probably always would. He kept his earbuds in, but tapped off beat and nervously, glancing back at the McKinnon house every once in a while. All these houses looked the same. The lawns were so green that they rivaled the sea, aqua and glimmering in the sunlight. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like the women, seemingly ever out for a morning speed-walk with each other, died blonde hair piled high on their heads, who stopped to ask, Do you do lawns? What about pools?

Saint merely slid his sunglasses off, smiled at them, and they were lost. Their eyes went bright, their mouths giggly. Boy from The Hollow, they would whisper to their friends later, so sad to waste such a face—

Saint had always been beautiful. He knew that. But it didn’t matter so much when you were from where he was. In Godric, beauty was key. Anywhere else, it was a waste.

And then they’d see his neck. The cross with the 7 singed there, hanging around his neck.

Oh, they’d gasp, oh, sweetheart, you’re one of those St. Clair Church orphans aren’t you?

A waste. A waste.

The nuns—waste of space, wasteofspacewasteof—

Saint hated the Godric men, with their linen pants and green juices. Walking their property lines and greeting each other each morning, like Roman elite on their salutatio.

Saint was here for Dorcas, who for some reason had decided to love one of those men and women’s daughters. He could never.

That was the surest way to be a waste. Why love them? Why love anyone who was raised like this? By these people?

There was an excitement that came with The Hollow for the Godrics. A strange fascination, animal and exotic. Marlene, to her credit, didn’t have it. She loved Dorcas, too. James Potter…Saint liked James well enough. But both he and Marlene could still go home every night. They didn’t live it. Not like Dorcas, not like Sirius, not like himself.

Yes, Saint would say. I do lawns. I clean pools.

Saint grinned sweetly. Sultry.

He’d also steal their favorite gold necklace.

~

“So, Remus, what do you plan to do with yourself this summer, sweetheart?”

Remus looked across the dining room table at his parents. His mother was looking at him expectantly, knife and fork poised, and his mind had still been with the wind and the sea.

“I know the history museum is always looking for volunteers, which looks wonderful on a college application,” his mother continued when Remus had paused for too long.

Remus nodded, hoping to keep his expression pleasant, and cut his pork chop. “Maybe. I was hoping to lean in a little bit of a different direction.”

“Oh?”

“Just sailing, I mean. Racing. There are prizes, some of them with money attached. Good for scholarships, or…”

Remus’ father chewed slowly. “Oh. Well, yes. But you have the mornings to do that. Something more productive with your day, maybe. What are the other boys on the team doing, for example. Maybe ask James or Luke or Thomas. Well, maybe not Luke, given everything that happened this year.”

Remus only nodded again, biting down everything else. But he wanted to race sailboats, run with them, he wouldn’t say. What could be more productive?

“Yeah,” he said instead. “I’ll look into some options around town.”

That, made his mother and father smile.

Julian sat to Remus’ left swinging his legs and looking between them all.

“Can I go out on Wolfsbane?” Julian asked hopefully. Julian, through Remus, had developed an incredible love for Remus’ sailboat and wanted nothing more than a ride.

“Absolutely not,” Remus’ mother said. “Not until you’ve finished your lessons at the Club.”

The Club. Dreaded words. Gryffindor Club, what Remus and Marlene secretly called The Yacht, was the most prestigious private club on the island. You needed a two-member invite. It was beautiful, but it was all walls. Closed off from the rest of the island. People came here, stayed at the club, and didn’t even see. The pools were not the ocean, and the cuisine was not Hogwarts cuisine. Remus wasn’t even sure his parents knew anymore, although he knew they had once. Early on. He didn’t know what had changed. You fall into a crowd, maybe.

He would get Julian out and about one day, when he was old enough. Remus himself spent his time on all parts of the island, in all neighborhoods—almost. He loved Helga more than anything, with its nicknacks and beautiful, dream-like creations.

Except The Hollow.

He’d never gone. Almost, once, on a dare from James when they were thirteen. There were nasty rumors. He’d only seen it from the sea, the deserted sands of Shack Beach and clusters of houses. And the rumors looked true enough. He knew James went sometimes, knew who he was friends with. The only reason he didn’t get shit for it at school was because everyone liked him too much. Remus thought they liked the fact that James could get away with it, too. James could get away with anything. He was a Potter.

Everything except me, Lily always said, and Remus smiled at the thought.

They’d all be out of here in a year anyway. At least for a while. College was like a promise-land. Remus was so sick of this island, but not the ocean. He’d miss the ocean.

The Lupins had been on Hogwarts for nearly one hundred years—a short time, compared to the Evans and McKinnon families. An even shorter time compared to the Potters and Deveaux. One hundred year old new money? Remus thought it was a ridiculous statement but, compared to the other Godric families, they were new. It was relative. Relative money. The Salazar families had been there even longer, Remus couldn’t quite remember their stories.

Remus couldn’t imagine how no one had wanted to go out and see the world. This island was his home. He loved its every shore and nook. But he…wanted. He wanted with the sea and the wind and his Wolfsbane with its twinning pontoons and white sails. It’s tiny below deck cabin that snugged in a bed for nights lulled by the waves. Nothing outside but water and the stars.

After dinner, Remus climbed up the tall, winding stairs to Bane Tower. It had been named by his great, great, great, grandfather, also named Lyall, like his father. A play on words. Lupin, wolf. Wolfsbane. Bane Tower. Sometimes Remus felt like he was just another word game. Remus and Julian. Raised by the wolves.

“It kept him sane, the stars,” Remus’ grandfather had always said. “Quite literally, I mean. Madness runs in our family, Remus. Who knows when it might pop up again. And they kept him almost sane, I should say.”

The stars kept Remus sane, too. They were a map on the ocean, and an escape on land. He didn’t have to think when he looked at them. Maybe that was what was dangerous about them. Hypnotic. Mirrored by the haphazard lights of The Hollow, right along Godric’s shore.

Remus’ grandfather had died of madness. That’s what they said. Remus had watched him go. He missed him.

It didn’t stop Bane Tower from being the perfect place to see the stars.

~

For Gods, the Potters were good people. Really, for anyone the Potters were good people. They were kind to Sirius, and payed him well. Mostly he looked after their boat, but he would also do chores around the house, run errands for this and that for Mrs. Potter.

It was how he had met James. Really met him. School didn’t count, Sirius had disappeared when he was eleven from his old life and that meant, what friends he might have had at Hogwarts Academy were no more. No one liked a run-away. No one really liked a Black.

The Potters weren’t prejudice. Did they have more money than Sirius could picture? Yes. But they were good. It was the only reason Sirius had even considered liking James again. And still, that didn’t mean he understood why James still hung out with him—them. James was the only one from Sirius’ old life who had decided to reconnect. It was strange. Sirius had nothing to offer him.

It had only gotten stranger when, about two years ago now, he’d brought Lily Evans, who had in turn brought Marlene McKinnon. The boys and the girls had been taught separately when Sirius had still be there, and so Lily and Marlene were vague memories for Sirius. Dorcas—homeschooled—and Marlene were gone for each other almost immediately, and Sirius had theories about Lily and James. None of them had ever brought anyone else, so, Sirius assumed, the rest of his old schoolmates had turned out to be the assholes he expected. Gods in their own territory, up on Olympus, reaping their spoils on the backs of others. Lacrosse playing, secret addicts to something, who drank too much, lived for the summer, and liked boobs more than themselves. Then again, James hung out with those people, too. It was hard to figure out.

But weren’t they all.

“Black!”

James, in all his leather boat shoes and pink swimsuit galore, was jogging up the dock to meet him. Sirius gave a nod, but kept sweeping last night’s rain from the decks, the morning sunshine hot on his neck.

“What’s up?” Sirius said.

“Throwing a party,” James said. “Thought maybe you and your crew would want to come.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re inviting us to a party?” They were famous, Godric’s boisterous parties. Drugs, alcohol, swimming pools, and the ocean. The best mix.

James nodded. “That I am.”

Sirius laughed. “Pots, that place will be crawling with Gods.”

“I thought you liked that sort of thing.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “On our turf, where we aren’t so outnumbered that, when the police show up—because they always do—we’re the ones who get blamed just for existing. And for the Crucio that’ll be there—and don’t try to tell me someone won’t bring some.”

Crucio. Hogwart’s powdery nightmare.

“Fine,” James said. “We’ll make it one of yours, then. Your turf, you name the place.”

“Why?”

James grinned. “Maybe I like transcending boundaries.”

“Maybe Marlene wants to see Dorcas.”

“Maybe.”

Sirius straightened and leaned on his broom, looking at James squint at him in the bright sunlight reflecting off his glasses. He was wearing a navy Castle Lacrosse t-shirt that decidedly did not go with his shorts.

“Maybe,” Sirius said. “But it’s gotta be at Shack Beach.”

James whistled. “That’s pretty deep territory. You know Felix will make its rounds.”

Crucio was the island’s greatest gift, and its greatest curse. Some people called it Crucio, some called it Felix. The drug wasn’t very addictive chemically, but its effects were powerful. Sirius had heard that it allowed the user to hallucinate memories. Past, distant or near. It could keep people coming back for more, time and again, hoping to relive things—or desperate to see something different. Crucio wasn’t addicting, but memories definitely could be. Good thing Sirius didn’t value his past.

Sirius stuck to the name Crucio. It was torture to live like that, not luck.

Crucio meant a good and steady cash flow for the suppliers. Like Dorcas. Sirius and Saint basically lived off of her income—not that she could do much without answering for how she accumulated it. It was a strange gift, a tedious life, but Dorcas seemed to like it.

Sirius stared James down. “And if it does, no cops will show up to tell about it.”

“Deal,” James sighed. “You’re fucking hardcore, Black.”

“Sure,” Sirius said.

“Potter,” came a voice from the end of the dock.

They both looked and Sirius stiffened as soon as he did, feeling self-conscious clutching his broom. Remus Lupin and Luke Deveaux were standing there, aviators on and Castle Lacrosse tank tops. Luke’s flashy Jeep was waiting in the circle driveway of James’ house. It was Luke who had spoken. Remus stood a few steps back. With their sunglasses, Sirius couldn’t tell where they were looking.

“Let’s go,” Luke said simply.

Sirius turned away before they could, pushing rain water harshly into the sea.

“Yeah,” James said, voice softer this time. “Coming.”

Pity. Sirius could practically feel it.

“Ten tonight?” James said to Sirius. “Sound okay?”

“Okay,” Sirius said without turning around.

He felt the vibrations of James jogging back down the dock, but didn’t turn to watch the three Gods go.

#relic keel lumosinlove #warnings: drug use and past abuse #wolfstar #harry potter #dorlene #my restraint #it's GONE #I'm very excited #hot damn #lumosinlove ocs #Luke deveaux #saint #sirius black #remus lupin #James potter #jily #lily evans #Marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fluff #slow burn #wolfstar slow burn #wolfstar fic #lumosinlove

[p1325]

Here's the list of the Movies/TV Shows I used : 

-Birds Of Prey, Wonder Woman 1984, Clouds, Escape from Pretoria, Extraction, Holidate, 365 Days, Mulan, Soul, Family Romance, Safety, Power Book II Ghost, Hamilton, Host -Greenland, Sex Education, Supernatural, Black box, The Wretched, The Lodge, To All The Boys I Loved: PS I Still Love You, P-Valley, Saved by The Bell, The Baby Sitter Club -The Other Lamb, The Queen's Gamble, The Crown, The Gentlemen, 12 Hour Shift, The Rental, Summerland, Military Wives, Bad Boys For Life, Betty, The Boys, Black Is King, Schitt's creek -The True Adventures of Wolfboy, Eternal Beauty, Eurovision: The Story Of Fire Saga, Tommaso, The Broken Hearts Gallery, Uncle Frank, The Kid Detective, Emma, Upside Down Magic -Dashing in December, Over The Moon, Greyhound, I'm Your Woman, VFW, Charm City Knights, Flight Attendant, To The Stars, The Old Guard, Scare Me, The Boys In The Band, Work It, Spongebob, Dorohedoro, Keep your hands off Eizouken -Bill & Ted Face The Music, Happiest Season, The Whistlers, Freaky, Lingua Franca, Mr. Jones, Feels Good Man, Yellow Rose, The Way Back, Misbehaviour, Blood & Water, The Prom, Lucifer -Selah and the Spades, Onward, Banana Split, La Llorona, Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey, Uncorked, Love and Monsters, His House, Woke, Never Have I Ever, The Mandalorian, Miss Juneteenth -Emily In Paris, Alice in Borderland, I May Destroy You, Bridgerton, Little Voice, Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist, Julia and The Phantoms, Euphoria, Westworld, Enola Holmes, Spontaneous, Trolls World Tour -Animaniacs, The Stranger, The Great, Stargirl, Dating Amber, Palm Springs, The Umbrella Academy, The Midnight Gospel,  Love, Victor, Teenage Bounty Hunters, Dead To Me, Harley Quinn, Kimetsu no Yaiba -Feel Good, Pet, Darwin's Game, Sylvie's Love, Dreambuilders, Somali and the Forest Spirit, Rogue, Another Round, BNA: Brand New Animal, Bad Education, Tower of God, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, Japan Sinks:2020, The Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina

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

Here’s the list of the song he used :

Harry Styles - Watermelon Sugar Lil Mosey - Blueberry Faygo DaBaby, Roddy Ricch - ROCKSTAR Selena Gomez - Boyfriend Surf Mesa, Emilee - ily (i love you baby) Ariana Grande, Justin Bieber - Stuck With U Ritt Momney - Put Your Records On 24kGoldn, iann dior - Mood The Weeknd, Doja Cat - In Your Eyes (Remix) Melanie Martinez - The Bakery Lady Gaga - Stupid Love DJ Khaled, Drake - POPSTAR Megan Thee Stallion - Body Beyoncé - Black Parade Pop Smoke - What You Know Bout Love Selena Gomez - Rare Hamilton Cast - My Shot Rina Sawayama - XS Roddy Ricch - The Box Billie Eilish - Therefore I Am Beyoncé, Major Lazer, Shatta Wale - ALREADY Lady Gaga - 911/Chromatica II Dua Lipa - Hallucinate Doja Cat - Boss Bitch Ashnikko - Daisy Megan Thee Stallion, Beyoncé - Savage (Remix) Ariana Grande - 34+35 Doja Cat, Nicki Minaj - Say So (Remix) Camila Cabello, DaBaby - My Oh My Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande - Rain On Me The Pussycat Dolls - React TWICE - MORE & MORE K/DA, Madison Beer, Lexie Liu, Jaira Burns - MORE Conan Gray - Maniac Dua Lipa, DaBaby - Levitating Dua Lipa - Don't Start Now BLACKPINK - How You Like That Doja Cat, Gucci Mane - Like That Ariana Grande, Doja Cat - motive Pop Smoke, Lil Baby, DaBaby - For The Night Dua Lipa, Madonna, Missy Elliot - Levitating (The Blessed Madonna Remix) SAINt JHN, Imanbek - Roses (Remix) Joel Corry, MNEK - Head & Heart The Weeknd - Too Late Lady Gaga, BLACKPINK - Sour Candy BENEE, Gus Dapperton - Supalonely Clean Bandit, Mabel, 24kGoldn - Tick Tock Jack Harlow, Tory Lanez, Da Baby , Lil Wayne - WHATS POPPING 5 Seconds Of Summer - Old Me Miley Cyrus, Dua Lipa - Prisoner Katy Perry - Daisies Bad Bunny, Jhay Cortez - Dakiti Cardi B, Anitta, Myke Towers - Me Gusta Cardi B, Megan Thee Stallion - WAP Vicetone, Tony Igy - Astronomia WONHO - Open Mind Miley Cyrus - Midnight Sky Little Mix - Sweet Melody Dua Lipa - Break My Heart BLACKPINK - Lovesick Girl Jonas Brothers, KAROL G - X Dua Lipa, Angèle - Fever Ashe, Niall Horan - Moral Of The Story Ellie Goulding - Overture Powfu, beabadoobee - death bed (coffee for your head) Billie Eilish - Everything I Wanted Eminem, Juice WRLD - Godzilla Juice WRLD, The Weeknd - Smile Billie Eilish - No Time To Die Zara Larsson, Sabrina Carpenter - WOW (Remix) Ellie Goulding, blackbear - Worry About Me Christina Aguilera - Reflection Dua Lipa - Phsyical BTS, Sia - ON Kygo, One Republic - Lose Somebody Why Don't We - Fallin' (Adrenaline) TWICE - I CAN'T STOP ME Ava Max - Kings & Queens Internet Money, Gunna, Don Toliver, NAV - Lemonade Chloe x Halle - Do It Taylor Swift - cardigan BTS - Dynamite AJR - Bang! Justin Bieber - Yummy The Weeknd - Blinding Lights Red Velvet - Psycho BLACKPINK, Selena Gomez - Ice Cream Jawsh 685, Jason Derulo, BTS - Savage Love Lil Nas X - Holiday Future, Drake - Life Is Good J Balvin, Tainy, Dua Lipa, Bad Bunny - UN DIA (ONE DAY) Da Baby, Roddy Rich - Rockstar (BLM Remix) Travis Scott, Young Thug & M.I.A - FRANCHISE BTS - Black Swan Lil Baby - The Bigger Picture Joji - Gimme Love Sam Smith - Diamonds Bebe Rexha , Doja Cat - Baby I'm Jealous Halsey - you should be sad Tate McRae - you broke me first Lewis Capaldi - Before You Go Harry Styles - Adore You Marshmello, Halsey - Be Kind Marshmello, Demi Lovato - OK Not To Be OK Conan Gray - Heather Harry Styles - Falling Shawn Mendes - Wonder Justin Bieber, benny blanco - Lonely Billie Eilish - my future Juice WRLD, Marshmello - Come & Go Day - It's Your Fault Drake, Lil Durk - Laugh Now Cry Later Gabby Barrett - I Hope Trevor Daniel, Selena Gomez - Past Life Lauv, Conan Gray - Fake Taylor Swift, Bon Iver - exile LiSA - Gurenge David Guetta, Sia - Let's Love Justin Bieber, Quavo - Intentions Ariana Grande - positions Lauv, LANY - Mean It Sam Smith, Demi Lovato - I'm Ready Lady Gaga - Chromatica III Justin Bieber, Chance the Rapper - Holy Demi Lovato - I Love Me Alan Walker, Ava Max - Alone, Pt II Sia - Together Harry Styles - Golden BTS - Life Goes On Juice WRLD, Halsey - Life's A Mess Taylor Swift - willow

#happy new year #multi fandom #multifandom #2020 #2020 recap #rewind #recap #review #2020 movies #2020 animes #2020 tv show #2021 #mash-up #golden mess #andywumusicland #movies #tv shows #best of 2020 #among us

[stingrayvilla]

Why Day Trip to Playa del Carmen

It’s painful to accept that this charming seaside city was full of impenetrable jungle brush only a few brief decades ago. Just a handful of fishermen and their families occupied the secluded inland.

In the 1970s, with the reputation of Cozumel growing, visitors widened their sphere of exploration. They constructed ferry docks to welcome guests from the Cozumel cruise port. Construction started with a few modest inns and beach bars until the early 1990s when the expansion and real estate sectors exploded.

All dirt trails are paved in Playa now. Neighborhoods are full of schools, clinics, shopping plazas, cinemas, and galleries. Hundreds of thousands of visitors arrive to spend a few days relaxing in Playa del Carmen.

Location Location Location

For starters, it’s only 45 minutes on the Cozumel ferry. It has likewise picked up a reputation over the years for being a nerve center for wild spring breakers. While Playa receives its adequate proportion of party people, it has nevertheless upheld its picturesque fishing village vibe. Most of the activity that tourists seek happens in the vibrant neighborhoods on the eastern sector of the federal highway. Here you approach the white sands, lively dining, shopping, and entertainment district by foot when visiting Playa’s east side.

Safe, International Community

Playa del Carmen is an excellent retirement haven and snowbird destination. Playa draws ex-pats to the safety and modest cost of living. Friendly residents from France, Italy, the United States, and Canada make up the greatest ex-pat groups and it is easy to establish long-lasting friendships with people from all over the world.

Impressive Gastronomy Scene

Playa del Carmen has a wealth of options for dining. There is no scarcity of unprecedented international or traditional Mexican cuisine. Foodies will rejoice in eating their way through menus of savory casual and upscale fare. Those who enjoy great food will rejoice in satisfying their taste buds in Playa del Carmen.

Breathtaking Beaches

The beaches in Playa del Carmen are broad and stretch along the entire segment of the city. It is challenging for beach bums to take off after a fascinating day of splashing in the surf. Since the shores of Playa border the Caribbean Sea, the water is almost always crystal clear, and the color is striking shades of aquamarine.

If you prefer to park yourself on the beach with a cocktail or encounter the views from a closer viewpoint, there are so many interesting options in either case. Chic beach clubs for the hipster traveler, watering spots for fun-loving snowbirds, and laid-back ocean side eateries the entire family will enjoy all along the palm-fringed coastline. Ocean enthusiasts can soak their feet in the turquoise waters via paddleboard, parasail, or even a catamaran. Every day is extraordinary when spent outdoors under the brilliant Mexican sun.

Electric Nightlife

If the nightlife in Cozumel is a little lame, you might pick up the pace and in Playa del Carmen’s buzzing nightclub zone on Calle 12. It’s tough to know which day of the week it is because the disco clubs and bars come alive every night in Playa del Carmen. At Coco Bongo, exciting performers reach the stage, DJs spin all night, and a charismatic staff creates such an entertaining environment that you never wish to leave. Mandala just down the avenue is a 3-level club with a trendy roof balcony, walls of video screens, and a local DJ who plays until the sun comes up. For the finest underground disco in town, Santanera is the place. La Santanera embodies the nightlife scene of Playa del Carmen with its sensuous, tropical atmosphere.

Let us not forget about the Shopping

Times sure have evolved over the past 15 years. There was a time a while ago where I could not get clothes to fit me here in Mexico. Playa del Carmen now includes everything a big man requires. With Old Navy and American Eagle Outfitters a short ferry ride away, I can no longer complain. There is also the “Ultimate Man’s Store” now convenient to us – HomeDepot. That alone will get me off my recliner.

If you have not yet had the chance to visit the Playa del Carmen, it’s time to experience all the elegance and magic for yourselves! There’s something for everyone after a brief ferry ride.

Written by Stingray Villa

#cozumel #travel #vacation #airbnbsuperhost #vrbo #vrbohost #cozumeldiving #cozumelisland #cozumelmexico #vacationrentalbyowner #vacationrentalhomes #vacationrentals #vacationhome #airbnbguest #airbnbtravel #airbnbhosts #airbnbfun #airbnbhome #airbnbtips #airbnbmexico #bestairbnb #airbnbsuperhosts #airbnbguests #airbnbcozumel

[freshdanks]

#palm springs #palm springs surf club #goldenvoice surf club

[catalinaroleplay]

Gender & Pronouns: Cis female, she/her

Date of Birth: August 2nd, 1990 (29)

Place of Birth:  Miami, Florida

Neighborhood: Avalon

Length of Residency: Since March 2020

Occupation: CPA

Face Claim: Victoria Justice

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGERS: Gun Violence, Death.

In the early 1970s, the Acosta family immigrated from Puerto Rico to the Miami area of Florida where they owned and operated a real estate business. It was also in Miami that Manny Acosta, the eldest Acosta son, met his bride, Amy Wilson. A lifelong South Beach resident. The moment their eyes locked, they swore, it was true love. Together they had two children. First a son, whom they named Michael, and then a daughter; Alycia. Alycia Acosta, nicknamed Aly by her father, grew up loved. The apple of her father’s eye, her big brother’s best friend, and the darling daughter her mother had always wanted. She had no reason to ever leave Miami. A loving family. A rich, cultural heritage. All the shopping a girl could ever do, and the most gorgeous beaches in the whole world. On which, she spent most of her youth.

Learning to surf started out as a hobby for Alycia. Just a way for her to spend time with her older brother, Michael, but quickly she became very good. The winter of her freshman year Aly qualified for a national surfing competition that would take place in summer of the following year. An amazing opportunity for someone so young that would take her all the way to Hawaii, but by Spring the budding teen would never touch a board again. She’d fallen in love with the waves alongside her brother. When he was taken from her, so was her passion for the sport. Michael’s passing was a horrific tragedy. While he was outside a club in South Beach a drive by shooting occurred. Police deduced the gunman was after a rival gang affiliate, and that Michael was just a random bystander caught in the crossfires. The Acostas lost not one but two children that night.

The grief of losing her brother soured Miami for Alycia. Grief changed her parents too. Their lofty expectations for the eldest Acosta shifting to her. It was too much for Aly. She couldn’t stand them anymore, or the sight of the ocean. Everything about her once beloved home made her sick. She couldn’t get out fast enough. Upon her high school graduation she left the state entirely for college in the West. Nevada was far from life in Florida, but it was what she needed to grieve. She lost herself in the college experience. Rushing a sorority, dating men as well as women, and of course a little bit of academics. Aly majored in business. Her family had instilled a knack for it in her. With a head for numbers, too, she ended up in accounting with plans to take the Certified Accountant Exam upon graduation. It was a solid life goal, but for all her planning Aly was still impulsive. A birthday weekend in Vegas and a few too many later she married a perfect stranger. Not that she had any real recollection of it the next morning with the worst hangover over of her life and a flight to catch.

After earning her Bachelor of Science in Accounting Alycia’s family begged her to come home. Her parents even offered her a position in their real-estate office, but she didn’t want to move back to Miami. Even years later her grief was suffocating. Being back there just made it worse, but where did she go? No place felt like home, not that she thought it would without her brother. So, she acted on impulse and followed a girlfriend to Chicago. It didn’t work out between them, but Aly found a job that paid for her MBA. She was doing well in her career, building a solid reputation for herself in the industry, but it was hard for Alycia to stay in one place. The desire to be her own boss so she could satiate her wanderlust seemed like a far off dream. Even in her success she was years away from being able to afford such a thing. Ironically, another loss gave her the chance.

Abuela Acosta passed at the beautifully ripe old age of ninety-three, asleep in her bed beneath the roof of multi-million dollar estate. As her only granddaughter Alycia was left a large inheritance check among other holdings, which would supply her the resources to live out her dreams and much, much more. There was just one, little, quite easily forgettable snag… Aly was married. To a man whose name she could barely remember, no less. Without a prenup all that money, legally, wasn’t just hers. She needed a divorce, but where in the world was her estranged husband? A private investigator found Arthur Kanemoto on an island a short ferry ride West of Los Angeles. A dreamy landscape of white sand beaches and palm trees, Catalina Island, a picturesque backdrop to an ugly divorce. She and Arthur did not get along. However, in the end, Aly got what she came for, and so much more she never expected.

For the last half of her life, home had only been a place with four walls. As empty in meaning as she felt inside until she found Catalina. “ I wanted to end up on an island “ didn’t sound wrong, but it was so much more than that. It was home; in a hotel room close to the ocean, floating on a surfboard in the Pacific, and in the arms of old friends and new. She decided to return to the island after a couple days back in Chicago, but in truth her mind had been made up for awhile. For all that was wrong in her life. Aly’s time in Catalina made everything feel right.

The cure for anything is salt water — sweat, tears, or the sea.

Back in Catalina, Aly has decided to do something with her inheritance besides live a life of obscene luxury and bum it on the beach. Something that might actually make her Abuela proud. With the dream to be her own boss she’s begun work on her own tax consulting business. With proximity to Los Angeles her new client pool is composed entirely of the illustriously rich and famous. A profitable endeavor, not that she needs it to be, that has momentarily appeased even her parents and their ridiculous expectations. While, simultaneously, allowing Aly the freedom to get back in the water. A balance of her two worlds in a place she’s happy to call home. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

PERSONALITY

Positive: Playful | Friendly | Intelligent

Negative: Sarcastic | Impulsive | Arrogant

Alycia Acosta is portrayed by A.

#town rp #bio rp #oc rp #victoria justice #all #female #avalon #gun violence tw #death tw

[alycia-acosta]

x.

In the early 1970s, the Acosta family immigrated from Puerto Rico to the Miami area of Florida where they owned and operated a real estate business. It was also in Miami that Manny Acosta, the eldest Acosta son, met his bride, Amy Wilson. A lifelong South Beach resident. The moment their eyes locked, they swore, it was true love. Together they had two children. First a son, whom they named Michael, and then a daughter; Alycia. Alycia Acosta, nicknamed Aly by her father, grew up loved. The apple of her father’s eye, her big brother’s best friend, and the darling daughter her mother had always wanted. She had no reason to ever leave Miami. A loving family. A rich, cultural heritage. All the shopping a girl could ever do, and the most gorgeous beaches in the whole world. On which, she spent most of her youth.

Learning to surf started out as a hobby for Alycia. Just a way for her to spend time with her older brother, Michael, but quickly she became very good. The winter of her freshman year Aly qualified for a national surfing competition that would take place in summer of the following year. An amazing opportunity for someone so young that would take her all the way to Hawaii, but by Spring the budding teen would never touch a board again. She’d fallen in love with the waves alongside her brother. When he was taken from her, so was her passion for the sport. Michael’s passing was a horrific tragedy. While he was outside a club in South Beach a drive by shooting occurred. Police deduced the gunman was after a rival gang affiliate, and that Michael was just a random bystander caught in the crossfires. The Acostas lost not one but two children that night.

The grief of losing her brother soured Miami for Alycia. Grief changed her parents too. Their lofty expectations for the eldest Acosta shifting to her. It was too much for Aly. She couldn’t stand them anymore, or the sight of the ocean. Everything about her once beloved home made her sick. She couldn’t get out fast enough. Upon her high school graduation she left the state entirely for college in the West. Nevada was far from life in Florida, but it was what she needed to grieve. She lost herself in the college experience. Rushing a sorority, dating men as well as women, and of course a little bit of academics. Aly majored in business. Her family had instilled a knack for it in her. With a head for numbers, too, she ended up in accounting with plans to take the Certified Accountant Exam upon graduation. It was a solid life goal, but for all her planning Aly was still impulsive. A birthday weekend in Vegas and a few too many later she married a perfect stranger. Not that she had any real recollection of it the next morning with the worst hangover over of her life and a flight to catch.

After earning her Bachelor of Science in Accounting Alycia’s family begged her to come home. Her parents even offered her a position in their real-estate office, but she didn’t want to move back to Miami. Even years later her grief was suffocating. Being back there just made it worse, but where did she go? No place felt like home, not that she thought it would without her brother. So, she acted on impulse and followed a girlfriend to Chicago. It didn’t work out between them, but Aly found a job that paid for her MBA. She was doing well in her career, building a solid reputation for herself in the industry, but it was hard for Alycia to stay in one place. The desire to be her own boss so she could satiate her wanderlust seemed like a far off dream. Even in her success she was years away from being able to afford such a thing. Ironically, another loss gave her the chance.

Abuela Acosta passed at the beautifully ripe old age of ninety-three, asleep in her bed beneath the roof of multi-million dollar estate. As her only granddaughter Alycia was left a large inheritance check among other holdings, which would supply her the resources to live out her dreams and much, much more. There was just one, little, quite easily forgettable snag… Aly was married. To a man whose name she could barely remember, no less. Without a prenup all that money, legally, wasn’t just hers. She needed a divorce, but where in the world was her estranged husband? A private investigator found Arthur Kanemoto on an island a short ferry ride West of Los Angeles. A dreamy landscape of white sand beaches and palm trees, Catalina Island, a picturesque backdrop to an ugly divorce. She and Arthur did not get along. However, in the end, Aly got what she came for, and so much more she never expected.

For the last half of her life, home had only been a place with four walls. As empty in meaning as she felt inside until she found Catalina. “ I wanted to end up on an island “ didn’t sound wrong, but it was so much more than that. It was home; in a hotel room close to the ocean, floating on a surfboard in the Pacific, and in the arms of old friends and new. She decided to return to the island after a couple days back in Chicago, but in truth her mind had been made up for awhile. For all that was wrong in her life. Aly’s time in Catalina made everything feel right.

The cure for anything is salt water — sweat, tears, or the sea.

Back in Catalina, Aly has decided to do something with her inheritance besides live a life of obscene luxury and bum it on the beach. Something that might actually make her Abuela proud. With the dream to be her own boss she’s begun work on her own tax consulting business. With proximity to Los Angeles her new client pool is composed entirely of the illustriously rich and famous. A profitable endeavor, not that she needs it to be, that has momentarily appeased even her parents and their ridiculous expectations. While, simultaneously, allowing Aly the freedom to get back in the water. A balance of her two worlds in a place she’s happy to call home. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

#bio update going here for the time being bc photoshop and I are having a fight rn #bio

[vmheadquarters]

We wish you a Happy Birthday, We wish you a Happy Birthday, We wish you a Happy Birthday filled with fanfic and cheer!

Happy Birthday @catefrankie!

And to kick-off our wish of fanfic for you, here’s the start of a Christmas tale written by our own @susanmichelin. Hope you enjoy! 

Mars and the Real Meaning of Christmas

Thursday, December 20, 2007

“I need your help, Logan.” Already this felt wrong. It was supposed to be the other way around. It was ALWAYS the other way- HIM coming to HER for help. Find my mother, I was falsely accused of murder, locate my sister’s scumbag boyfriend, false murder rap (again), missing trust fund money. Logan was the one who needed HER.

“What is it, Veronica? I’m kinda busy.”

He leaned against the doorjamb, looking better than an ex-boyfriend had a right to look. Wasn’t it a law that all exes needed to get Santa-Claus-fat? Maybe even bald? They were NOT supposed to get buff. And they certainly were NOT supposed to come to the door wearing nothing but a pair of a shorts with water droplets sliding over their chest and down rock-hard abs.  

Kinda busy. The words poked at her. Kinda busy doing... what? Or who? She gritted her teeth. Who Logan was doing was none of her business. “I need your help.”

“You said that already.”

Should she come right out and ask? Remind him of his promise, if you ever need anything. She bit her bottom lip. That was before Madison. Before Piz. Before they splintered each other’s hearts into tiny shards of sharp edges. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“Me” —he pointed to his chest— “Losing interest, fast.”

Bored, jackass-Logan. Veronica blinked. “Forget it; I shouldn’t have come here.” Turning on her heel, she stalked down the short driveway.

“Veronica, wait!”

Ignoring him, she made the left on the narrow street running behind his house and continued in the direction of her car. He caught up to her at the corner; his hand landing on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

She spun around to glare at him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifted her chin. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“My mistake.” He backed up a step. “You came to see me after months of not speaking to what… ask for help moving? No wait, you need a ride to the airport. Or did—”

“My father’s missing.”

“He’s an adult; I’m sure he’ll come home after he’s slept it off.” His gaze moved past her to a spot beyond her shoulder. “Ah, my company’s arrived.” A smirk spread across his face as he glanced at Veronica. “Weren’t you just leaving?”

One of those sharp pieces of her heart shifted, slicing her lungs and making it difficult to breathe. Without saying anything, she dropped her arms, and continued for her car. It was her fault for thinking… She shook her head.

There was no point in analyzing her FEELINGS. She was the one who’d told him it was going to take time and obviously he’d decided waiting around for her to forgive him wasn’t worth it - leaving Hearst while she was in Virginia and moving away from the Grand.

“Hey,” he called after her, but she refused to turn around. She didn’t want to see his face again and she DEFINITELY didn’t want to see his ‘company.’ Rooting through her purse, her fingers closed over her keys. Only a few more steps and she could drive out of his life forever. Logan stepped in front of her, blocking her path and foiling her plan. “Why do you think Keith is missing?”

Right. Her father. Missing. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll figure something out.”

She didn’t have a lot of rich friends. Okay, so she had exactly NO rich friends. Acquaintances? Eh, maybe. There was Dick —he was still floating around campus, presumably going to class— but the idea of letting him touch her was… nauseating.

Logan ducked his head to see her face; concern furrowing his brow. “Let’s start over. You can come inside and tell me about Keith and I’ll promise to dispense with the sarcasm.”

It was her turn to smirk. Logan without sarcasm was… her brain tried and failed to come up with an adequate analogy. What was that impossible? Unassisted human flight? Finding a unicorn in her dorm room? “I don’t want to interrupt your afternoon TRYST.”

“You always go there first. God, Veronica do you think about anything other than sex?” He arched his eyebrows and widened his eyes, faux-shocked. “I do have other interests.”

“Name one.”

He glanced over her shoulder again and held up a wait-one-minute index finger. And again, Veronica resisted the urge to look. An expansive grin spread across Logan’s face as he recognized the effort needed to thwart her curiosity. “Well...proper nutrition is important to me.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. INFURIATING. That was the word to describe him. Irritating, smug, and—

A shouted, “Hey!” from behind them interrupted her silent tirade. “Do you still want this, or what? I don’t have all day.”

She turned. A delivery guy in white t-shirt and red ball cap was holding an insulated warming bag, and glaring at Logan. I know how you feel, buddy. “Pizza? THAT’S your idea of nutritious?”

“Says the woman who eats ice cream for dinner.” Logan jogged toward the house. “Plus it’s from Bronx Pizza”—he called, over his shoulder—“extra cheese, pepperoni.”

Two of her weaknesses. Three, if you counted Logan himself, which she definitely DID NOT.

Veronica trailed behind the delivery guy, watched Logan pay him and carry the pizza inside, leaving the door open. It was invitation enough; she walked into the living room.

After seeing Logan live in the overly-decorated, tacky surroundings of his parent’s house, and then in the sterile, impersonal suite at the Grand, she wasn’t sure what to expect from a space designed by him, for him. The beach was a given, and it didn’t disappoint. The view was stunning. Large, folding glass doors were pushed open, accordion-style, creating a seamless flow from living space to deck.

“I’m going to take a quick shower before we eat and then you can tell me about Keith.” A wry grin. “Don’t make yourself at home.”

To hide her annoyance, she averted her face, and focused on the painting above the couch - a print of Hopper’s Rooms by the Sea. It was a metaphor for silence and solitude. But the other name for the painting—The Jumping Off Place—made her frown. It could be taken either way, as something dark, or hopeful. A final ending, or the point from which something is begun.

Veronica glanced back at the wood-and-glass spiral staircase, but Logan was already gone. Seconds later, the sound of running water said he’d started his shower. She relaxed, wandered across the sisal area rug to explore.

A blue-gray sofa with welted cushions and funky striped throw pillows stood under the Hopper. Club chairs in the same striped pattern were positioned for optimal viewing of the large flat-panel television, and instead of a coffee table, he had a cocktail ottoman printed with coastal beach signs - sand, sea, surf.

The kitchen was separated from the space by a large island and stools—no dining table—and Veronica opened and closed cabinets as she moved down the line. Bright, multi-colored Fiestaware, drinking glasses, pots, and pans - a fully stocked and functional kitchen. She peeked inside the filled-with-healthy-food refrigerator.

She shouldn’t be surprised. Logan had been taking care of himself, in one way or another, since childhood. It was just strange to see him ADULTING. It was hard to imagine him cooking and cleaning and paying bills. The only thing missing was any indication that Christmas was five days away.

Crossing the floor, she looked up the stairs as she passed—no sign of Logan—and moved to the wall behind them. Three custom bookshelves made of walnut and steel were crammed with a mix of hardcovers and paperbacks. Veronica perused the titles. The Count of Monte Cristo, Catcher in the Rye, The Call of the Wild.

She fingered the leaves of a nearby potted palm, wondered why he didn’t have a Christmas tree.

“It’s real,” Logan said, springing down the stairs. “So did I give you enough time to search all the drawers and cabinets, or should I go change again?”

Her cheeks warmed. “Haha.” For something to do, she pulled out one of the saddle-seat bar stools, and flipped open the pizza box. “What made you leave the Grand?”

Shrugging, he handed her a plate, took down two glasses, and poured them both soda. Instead of answering, he said, “Keith. Missing.”

He was right; this wasn’t a social call, but the reminder that they weren’t friends, still stung. Swallowing her sigh with a bite of pizza, Veronica watched him through lowered lashes. Leaning on the opposite counter, half-turned away from her, he was eating his pizza over the box top, and he looked just as good fully-clothed as he did when wet and in swim trunks.

Shaking off the thought, she asked, “Do you remember Deborah Daily?”

Logan’s grimace said he did. “Sure, who could forget the socialite of Debbie does Daddy Dearest fame?” He dropped his unfinished slice back in the box. “Is she still floating around Neptune? Pun intended.”

Deborah had lost her status as trophy wife when she was discovered in flagrante with the pool boy. “No, she’s living in Aspen now, working as an event planner...of sorts. Really she only works for one place - this very exclusive, luxury ski resort called The Glen?”

He nodded. “I’ve been there.”

Of course he had. “Anyway, they’re hosting this five-day Christmas event billed as a ‘traditional’ holiday getaway for couples only.” She finished her pizza and, without having to ask, Logan slid a fresh slice onto her plate. Veronica smiled her thanks, and he rolled his wrist for her to continue. Smile fading, she peeled the pepperoni away from the cheese. “Part of the festivities is a lavish Christmas Eve party, complete with a full orchestra, dancing, and a charity auction.”

“Oh the rich, whatever will they think of next!” Logan clapped his hands together. “Christmas shopping that’s also a tax write-off!”

She ignored his mocking. “Debbie’s been arranging the auction for months, collecting big-ticket items—Harry Winston jewelry, a classic Ferrari, private plane—you get the idea. And then, about two weeks ago, she started to get worried.”

“That her guests weren’t rich enough to afford such baubles?”

“Not quite. She began to suspect the charity was a fake. On paper it looks legit- an outreach program for troubled teens, but when she finally met the CEO...she had doubts.”

“And she hired Mars Investigations?”

“You don’t need to sound so surprised; my dad is very good at what he does.”

“Oh, I wasn’t disparaging the...efficacy that is Keith Mars; I’m asking, why not a firm in Colorado?”

“She didn’t want her boss to find out. If the charity’s a scam, not only will she lose her job, but she’ll be blacklisted. She remembered my dad from his investigation into...”

“Aaron’s stalker,” Logan finished her sentence. “And why should I care about Deb’s future job prospects?”

“I’m not asking you to help HER; I’m asking you to help ME.” Logan gave her a non-committal, hmm, and tapped his wrist like her time was running out. Veronica pushed away her plate, started to stand, changed her mind. She HATED needing him, but she did. “Dad went undercover as a member of the staff; he’s playing Santa Claus at the party, and—”

Logan smirked. “So in essence you’re investigating the case of the missing Santa?”

“I’m GLAD you’re finding this so amusing.”

Something in her tone, wiped the smirk from his face. “I’m sorry, Veronica; finish your story.”

“He checked in with me on Tuesday night, but I haven’t heard from him since.”

“That’s only two days”—Logan looked at the clock above the bookshelves—“Not even. Maybe he’s busy chasing down a lead or--”

“No, we had an arranged check in time; he would call me every night at six while the staff was eating dinner, and he missed last night’s call.”

“Maybe he couldn’t get a signal or his phone died?”

Veronica shook her head. “He has a SAT phone WITH a tracking feature AND global positioning. Even if he couldn’t call me, I’d be able to track his location, and I can’t. Someone disabled it, Logan.”

“Have you called the police?” She just stared at him, and he held out his hands. “What? That ‘waiting-period to file a missing person’s report’ thing is only a Hollywood myth.”

“I know, but I don’t have any proof of foul play, or even that he’s in trouble - other than my instincts, and they’re telling me something’s wrong.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to help you with this?”

“Did you miss the part about it being a COUPLES retreat? I need you to come with me, pretend to be my boy—”

“Husband,” Logan interrupted. “Your better half, the old ball and chain.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever; we leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, dear.” Picking up his pizza, he folded it, and took a healthy bite. “See, we’re already playing our roles to perfection. You, the demanding, nagging wife, and me, the henpecked, lazy husband.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Just out of curiosity- what was your backup plan? You must’ve had one when you stormed off all indignant-like.”

“To find another bored rich 09er to go with me.” He raised an eyebrow, waited for her to elaborate. “I was going to ask Dick.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think even YOUR acting skills are that great.”

“Well, we’ll never know.” She slid off the stool. “Our flight leaves at six a.m. so I’ll pick you up at four.”

“Pretty sure of yourself there, Mars, making flight reservations in ADVANCE.” He tossed his pizza crust in the trash. “Going to ask Dick,” he scoffed under his breath.

“Just be ready when I get here.” She shouldered her purse. “We have a layover in Phoenix, but we’ll get to the resort in time for the welcome lunch at noon.”

“Layover? God, I hope it’s not COACH.”

#vmhq birthday club #veronica mars #vm fanfic #veronica mars fanfic #catefrankie

[thirplaceorg]

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180° sweeping views of the ocean with WiFi The Southport Surf Club Restaurant boasts 180° sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean. Remote workers, travelers and locals alike may come for the view, but stay for Executive Chef Gary McCoy’s passion infused cuisine. Both the Restaurant and Pavilion offer Free Wi-Fi, so it's the perfect pub to be productive.

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Crush those deadlines, while soaking up the luxe cool vibes of LA at Burleigh’s hottest cafe, Palm Springs. The breezy, Cali-inspired eatery is giving a fresh, revamped face. Putting a Cali-cool twist on brekky and lunch favourites, the standout menu is set to have you drooling.

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[213hiphopworldnews]

All The New Albums Coming Out In September 2018

iStock

Keeping track of all the new albums coming out in a given month is a big job, but we’re up for it: Below is a comprehensive list of the major releases you can look forward to in September. If you’re not trying to potentially miss out on anything, it might be a good idea to keep reading.

Friday, September 7

Adult. — This Behavior (Dais Records)

The Alex Skolnick (Alex Skolnick of Testament) — Conundrum (Palmetto+)

Alvaro Soler — Mar De Colores (Sony Music Entertainment Inc.)

Amnesia Scanner — Another Life (PAN)

Ava Luna — Moon 2 (Western Vinyl)

Ben Danaher — Still Feel Lucky (Soundly Music, LLC)

Ben Fisher — Does The Land Remember Me? (Treleven Music)

The Blaze — Dancehall (Columbia Records)

Boston Manor — Welcome To The Neighbourhood (Pure Noise Records)

C418 — Excursions (self-released)

Cauldron — New Gods (The End Records)

The Chairman Dances — Child Of My Sorrow (Black Rd)

Chilly Gonzales — Solo Piano III (Gentle Threat Ltd.)

Chris Liebing — Burn Slow (Mute Records)

Church Girls — Home EP (self-released)

Dan Koshute — All The Way Always (Magna Persona)

Donna Missal — This Time (Harvest Records)

DOWNPOUR (members of Shadows Fall and Unearth) — DOWNPOUR (self-released)

Elijah Wolf — On The Mtn Laurel Rd (Old Flame Records)

Eric Bachmann (of Archers Of Loaf) — No Recover (Merge Records)

Escape-ism (Ian Svenonius) — The Lost Record (Merge Records)

Ferry Corsten and Saad Ayub — Synchronicity (Flashover Recordings)

Future Thieves — Future Thieves (self-released)

Gamblers — Corinthian Order (Gamblers)

Ghostland Observatory — See You Later (Trashy Moped)

Ginla — Codex (Terrible Records)

Gold Star — Uppers & Downers (Autumn Tone Records)

ITAL TEK — Bodied (Planet Mu)

JEFF The Brotherhood — Magick Songs (Dine Alone Records)

Jesse And The Dandelions — Give Up The Gold (self-released)

Jesse Harris — Aquarelle (Secret Sun Recordings)

Joep Beving — Conatus (Deutsche Grammophon)

Joey Purp — Quarterthing (self-released)

Joey Sweeney & The Neon Grease — Catholic School (Burnt Toast Vinyl)

Judy Blank — Morning Sun (Munich Records)

Kandace Springs — Indigo (Capitol Records)

Kathy Mattea — Pretty Bird (Captain Potato)

Kevin Harrison & True North — Howl (self-released)

Kilo Kish — MOTHE EP (self-released)

KINGCROW — The Persistence (The Laser’s Edge)

Kito — HAANI EP (Bimyou)

LA CHNGA — Beyond The Sky (Small Stone Records)

La Force (Ariel Engle of Broken Social Scene) — La Force (Arts & Crafts)

Lenny Kravitz — Raise Vibration (BMG Rights Management (UK) Limited)

LIINKS — Ridge Road (Westwood Records)

Macy Gray — Ruby (Artistry Music)

MAJOR. — Even More (EMPIRE)

Maribou State — Kingdoms In Colour (Counter Records)

Mike Farris — Silver And Stone (Compass Records Group)

Milo Greene — Adult Contemporary (Nettwerk Records)

Mirah — Understanding (Absolute Magnitude Recordings)

mmph — Serenade EP (Tri Angle)

MNEK — Language (Virgin EMI Records)

The Molochs — Flowers In The Spring (Innovative Leisure)

The Mommyheads — Soundtrack To The World’s End (Dead Frog Recrods)

Morne — To The Night Unknown (Armageddon Label)

Mothers — Render Another Ugly Method (ANTI‐)

Nashville Pussy — Pleased To Eat You (earMUSIC)

New Reveille — The Keep (Loud & Proud Records)

The Night Game — The Night Game (Interscope)

Nile Rodgers And Chic — It’s About Time (Virgin EMI Records)

The O’Mys — Tomorrow (self-released)

Papadosio — Content Coma (self-released)

Paul Carrack — These Days (Carrack UK)

Paul McCartney — Egypt Station (Capitol Records)

Paul Simon — In The Blue Light (Legacy Recordings)

Pig Destroyer — Head Cage (Relapse Records)

Pile — Odds And Ends (Exploding In Sound Records)

Pohgoh — Secret Club (New Granada Records)

The Primals — All Love Is True Love ((RED) Southern Lord)

Rae Spoon — Bodiesofwater (Coax Records)

Rebecca & Fiona — Art Of Being A Girl (Stereo Stereo)

Renée Fleming — Broadway (Decca Classics)

Rudimental — Toast To Our Differences (Atlantic Records UK)

Russ — Zoo (self-released)

Ruston Kelly — Dying Star (New Rounder)

Say Hi — Caterpillar Centipede (Euphobia Records)

Seasaw — Big Dogs (self-released)

Sauna Youth — Deaths (Upset The Rhythm)

Shannen Moser — I’ll Sing (Lame-O Records)

Spiral Deluxe (featuring Jeff Mills) — Voodoo Magic (Axis Records)

Spiritualized — And Nothing Hurt (Fat Possum Records)

St. Paul & The Broken Bones — Young Sick Camellia (RECORDS, LLC)

Steven A. Clark — Where Neon Goes To Die (Secretly Canadian)

Stoned Jesus — Pilgrims (Napalm Records)

The Stray Birds — Let It Pass (Yep Roc Records)

Stoned Jesus — Pilgrims (Napalm Records)

The Stryker Brothers — Burn Band (Scriptorium Rex)

Sudakistan — Swedish Cobra (PNKSLM Recordings)

Suicidal Tendencies — Still Cyco Punk After All These Years (Suicidal Records)

Suicideboys — I Want To Die In New Orleans (G59 Records)

Super City — Sanctuary (self-released)

Swamp Dogg — Love, Loss And Auto-Tune (Joyful Noise Recordings)

Teksti-TV 666 — Aidattu Tulevaisuus (Svart Records)

Teleman — Family Of Aliens (Moshi Moshi Records)

Tom Freund — East Of Lincoln (Surf Road)

Tuomo & Markus — Dead Circles (Grand Pop)

Waxahatchee — Great Thunder (Merge Records)

Yotto — Hyperfall (Anjunadeep)

Friday, September 14

Ace Clark — Black Privilege (self-released)

Active Bird — Amends (Barsuk Records)

Alejandro Escovedo — The Crossing (Yep Roc Records)

Alex Clare — Three Days At Greenmount (ETC Recordings)

Ann Wilson (of Heart) — Immortal (BMG)

Aphex Twin — Collapse (Warp)

Art Thieves — Russian Rats (State Line Records)

Asleep At The Wheel — New Routes (Bismeaux Records)

The Band Of Heathens — A Message From The People Revisited (BOH Records)

Ben Poole — Anytime You Need Me (Manhaton Records)

Beta Radio — Ancient Transition (Nettwerk Records)

Billy Moon — Punk Songs (Missed Connection Records)

Black Belt Eagle Scout — Mother Of My Children (Saddle Creek)

Blanca — Shattered (Word Records)

Bob Moses — Battle Lines (Domino Recording Company)

Bosse-de-Nage — Further Still (The Flenser)

Brandon Coleman — Resistance (Brainfeeder)

Brant Bjork (of Kyuss) — Mankind Woman (Heavy Phych Sound Records)

Calvin Valentine — Keep Summer Safe (Mello Music Group)

Capital Punishment (Ben Stiller’s high school band) — Roadkill (Reissue) (Captured Tracks)

Carrie Underwood — Cry Pretty (Capitol Records Nashville)

Cedric Burnside — Benton County Relic (Single Lock Records)

The Chills — Snow Bound (Fire Records)

Coming Soon — Sentimental Jukebox (Kidderminster)

Conan — Existential Void Guardian (Napalm Records)

Dad Brains — Dad Brains EP (self-released)

David Guetta — 7 (What a Music LTD)

David Nail And The Well Ravens — Only This And Nothing More (One Five Sound)

Dilly Dally — Heaven (Dine Alone Records)

The Dirty Nil — Master Volume (Dine Alone Records)

Dream Child — Until Death Do We Meet Again (Frontiers Music)

Dunbarrow — Dunbarrow II (RidingEasy Records)

Emma Louise — Lilac Everything (Liberation Records)

Emma Ruth Rundle — On Dark Horses (Sargent House)

Erik Deutsch — Falling Flowers (LoHi Records)

Exploded View — Obey (Sacred Bones Records)

Fatherson — Sum Of All Your Parts (Easy Life Records)

Film School — Bright To Death (Cobraside Records)

Fit For A King — Dark Skies (Solid State Records)

Fred Thomas — Aftering (Polyvinyl Record Co.)

Future Generations — Landscape (Frenchkiss Records)

Gareth Sager & The Hungry Ghosts — Juicy Rivers (Creeping Bent)

Good Charlotte — Generation Rx (BMG Rights Management (US) LLC)

The Goon Sax — We’re Not Talking (Wichita Recordings)

Grave Digger — The Living Dead (Napalm Records)

Guerrilla Toss — Twisted Crystal (DFA Records)

Hawkwind — Road To Utopia (Cherry Red Records)

He Arrived By Helicopter — The Shiny Hostel (Very Special Recordings)

The Holydrug Couple — Hyper Super Mega (Sacred Bones Records)

Howard — Together Alone (Fashion People)

Infernal Coil — Within A World Forgotten (Profound Lore Records)

Jack Drag — 2018 (Burger Records)

Jean-Michel Jarre — Planet Jarre (Columbia Records)

Jóhann Jóhannsson — Mandy OST (Lakeshore Records)

Jonathan Scales Fourchestra — PILLAR (Ropeadope)

Juiceboxxx — Never Surrender Forever EP (Dangerbird Records)

Jump, Little Children — Sparrow (self-released)

Jungle — For Ever (XL Recordings)

Knife Knights (Ishmael Butler and Erik Blood) — 1 Time Mirage (Sub Pop)

Lawrence — Living Room (self-released)

Leland And The Silver Wells — Leland And The Silver Wells (self-released)

Living With Lions — Island (No Sleep Records)

Lonely Parade — The Pits (Buzz Records)

Low — Double Negative (Sub Pop)

Loudon Wainwright III — Years In The Making (StorySound Records)

Lyrics Born — Quite A Life (Mobile Home Recordings)

Malcolm Holcombe — Come Hell Or High Water (Gypsy Eyes Music)

Medeski Martin & Wood with Alarm Will Sound — Omnisphere (Indirecto)

Monster Truck — True Rockers (Dine Alone Records)

Night Shop — In The Break (Woodsist)

North Americans — Going Steady (Driftless Recordings)

Old Faith — Old Faith (Refresh Records)

Ominous Eclipse — Sinister (NONE)

Orbital — Monsters Exist (ACP Recordings Ltd)

Pale Waves — My Mind Makes Noises (Dirty Hit)

Paul Weller — True Meanings (Parlophone)

PYREXIA — Unholy Requiem (Unique Leader Records)

Richard Thompson — 13 Rivers (New West Records)

Saint Slumber — Youth//2 EP (Kingless Co. Records)

Sandro Perri — In Another Life (Constellation Records)

Sextile — 3 EP (Felte)

Shortly — Richmond EP (Triple Crown)

Sleaford Mods — Sleaford Mods EP (Rough Trade Records)

Slothrust — The Pact (Dangerbird Records)

Snakes In Paradise — Step Into The Light (FRONTIERS RECORDS)

Sons Of Raphael — A Nation Of Bloodsuckers EP (Because Music)

Spirit Of The Beehive — Hypnic Jerks (Tiny Engines)

Steven Page (of Barenaked Ladies) — Discipline: Heal Thyself, Pt. II (Warner Music Canada)

Thrice — Palms (Epitaph Records)

Tony Bennett and Diana Krall — Love Is Here To Stay (Verve Label Group)

The Trews — Civilianiares (MapleCore Ltd.)

Uriah Heep — Living The Dream (FRONTIERS RECORDS)

We Were Promised Jetpacks — The More I Sleep The Less I Dream (Big Scary Monsters Recording Company)

Willie Nelson — My Way (Legacy Recordings)

Friday, September 21

A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie — The International Artist (Atlantic Records)

Adam’s House Cat (Drive-By Truckers) — Town Burned Down (ATO Records)

Advance Base — Animal Companionship (Run for Cover Records)

Amy Helm — This Too Shall Light (Yep Roc Records)

Anthony Roth Costanzo — ARC (Universal Music Classics)

Bad Moves — Tell No One (Don Giovanni Records)

Beak> — >>> (Invada Records)

Billy Gibbons (of ZZ Top) — The Big Bad Blues (Concord Records, Inc.)

Bitchin Bajas — Rebajas (Drag City)

The Blinders — Columbia (Modern Sky Entertainment)

Brooks Thomas — Poison (Hornblow Recordings)

Carl Broemel (of My Morning Jacket) — Wished Out (Stocks In Asia)

Christine And The Queens — Chris (Because Music)

Dragonlord (Eric Peterson of Testament) — Dominion (Universal Music Oy)

Drew McDowall — The Third Helix (Resident Advisor)

Elysian Fields — Pink Air (Microcultures)

The Field — Infinite Moment (Kompakt)

Greg Laswell — Next Time (Vanguard)

Human People — Butterflies Drink Turtle Tears (Exploding In Sound Records)

Hypoluxo — Running On A Fence (Broken Circles)

Joe Bonamassa — Redemption (J&R Adventures)

Jonathan Goldberger, JP Schlegelmilch, And Jim Black — Visitors (Skirl Records)

Josh Groban — Bridges (Reprise Records)

Joyce Manor — Million Dollars To Kill Me (Epitaph Records)

The Last Bison — SÜDA (AntiFragile Music)

Lonnie Holly — MITH (Jagjaguwar)

Macy Gray — Ruby (Artistry Music)

Mandy Barnett — Strange Conversation (Dame Productions)

Mount Eerie — (after) (P.W. Elverum & Sun)

Mountain Man — Magic Ship (Nonesuch Records Inc.)

Mutual Benefit — Thunder Follows The Light Out (Transgressive)

The Paper Kites — On The Corner Where You Live (Wonderlick Entertainment)

Piles — Una Volta (Aagoo Records)

Plainride — Life Of Ares (Ripple Music)

Prince — Piano & A Microphone 1983 (Warner Bros. Records)

Richard Reed Parry (of Arcade Fire) — Quiet River Of Dust Vol. 1 (ANTI‐)

Ryan Hemsworth — Elsewhere (Last Gang/Secret Songs)

Same Girls — Young Minded (Text Me Records)

Say Lou Lou — Immortelle (á Deux/Cosmos Music)

Sha La Das — Love In The Wind (Dunham Records)

Sigala — Brighter Days (Ministry of Sound Recordings)

Slash featuring Myles Kennedy & The Conspirators — Living The Dream (Snakepit Records)

Sobrenadar — y (Absent Fever)

St. Lucia — Hyperion (Columbia Records)

Subways On The Sun — Capsize (Spartan Records)

Suede — The Blue Hour (Rhino Entertainment)

SUMAC — Love In Shadow (Thrill Jockey Records)

Summer Salt — Happy Camper (Epitaph Records)

Supersuckers — Suck It (Steamhammer)

Tahiti 80 — The Sunsh!ne Beat Vol.1 (Human Sounds)

Tiny Deaths — Magic (Handwritten Records)

Tor Miller — Surviving The Suburbs (Glassnote Records)

Transviolet — Valley EP (BMG)

Vessel Of Light — Woodshed (Argonauta Records)

Villagers — The Art Of Pretending To Swim (Domino Recording Company)

VOIVOD — The Wake (Century Media)

William Fitzsimmons — Mission Bell (Grönland Records)

Zula — New Years (Inflated Records)

Friday, September 28

79.5 — Predictions (Big Crown Records)

Against The Current — Past Lives (Fueled By Ramen)

Aizuri Quartet — Blueprinting (New Amsterdam Records)

Alexander Orange Drink (Alex Zarou Levine of So So Glos) — Babel On (Shea Stadium Records)

All Them Witches — ATW (New West Records)

alt-J — Reduxer (Infectious Music)

Amber Arcades — European Heartbreak (Heavenly)

Amy Ray — Holler (Compass Records)

Anti-Flag — American Reckoning (Spinefarm Records UK)

ATRAMENT — Scum Sect (Blood Harvest)

Bayside — Acoustic Volume 2 (Hopeless Records)

Beartooth — Disease (Red Bull Records)

The Black Lillies — Stranger To Me (Attack Monkey Productions)

The Black Queen — Infinite Games (The Black Queen)

BLOODTRUTH — Martyrium (Unique Leader Records)

Brother Reverend — The Tables Turn Too Often (self-released)

Cécile McLorin Salvant — The Window (Mack Avenue)

Cher — Dancing Queen (Warner Bros. Records)

The Crystal Method — The Trip Home (Tiny E Records)

Cypress Hill — Elephants On Acid (BMG)

Cumulus — Comfort World (Trans- Records)

Danielson — Snap Outtavit EP (Joyful Noise Recordings)

Deep Gold — Deep Gold (self-released)

Den-Mate — Loceke (Babe City Records)

Dillon Francis — Wut Wut (IDGAFOS)

DOE — Grow Into It (Big Scary Monsters)

Evilon — Leviathan (WormHoleDeath)

Exploded View — Obey (Sacred Bones Records)

Fat Tony — 10,000 Hours (Don Giovanni Records)

Four Seconds Ago (members of Periphery) — The Vacancy (Century Media Records)

Foxhole — Well Kept Thing (Burnt Toast Vinyl)

From The Bogs Of Aughiska — Mineral Bearing Veins (Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings)

Getter — Visceral (self-released)

GØGGS (featuring Ty Segall) — Pre Strike Sweep (In the Red)

Gouge Away — Burnt Sugar (Deathwish Inc.)

Hangman’s Chair — Banlieue Triste (Spinefarm Records UK)

Hater — Siesta (Fire Records)

Hippo Campus — Bambi (Transgressive)

Jay Som and Justus Proffit — Nothing’s Changed EP (Polyvinyl)

Jlin — Autobiography (Planet Mu)

John Butler Trio — Home (Nettwerk Records)

Jon Batiste — Hollywood Africans (Verve Records)

The Joy Formidable — AAARTH (Seradom)

Kojo Funds — Golden Boy (Atlantic Records)

Lala Lala — The Lamb (Sub Pop)

The Living End — Wunderbar (BMG)

Lucy Wainwright Roche — Little Beast (self-released)

Lydmor — I Told You I’d Tell Them Our Story (HFN Music)

Marissa Nadler — For My Crimes (Sacred Bones Records)

Mary-Elaine Jenkins — Hold Still (Good Child Music)

Mini Mansions — Works Every Time EP (Fiction Records)

Miss World — Keeping Up With Miss World (PNKSLM Recordings)

Mudhoney — Digital Garbage (Sub Pop)

NAVVI — Ultra (Hush Hush Records)

Onkel Tom — Bier Ernst (Steamhammer)

Ouri — We Share Our Blood EP (Ghostly International)

Palaye Royale — Boom Boom Room Side B (Sumerian Records)

Parquet Courts — Wide Awake! Remixes EP (Rough Trade)

People Museum — I Dreamt You In Technicolor (Girlie Action)

RALPH — A Good Girl (604 Records)

Restorations — LP5000 (Tiny Engines)

Rick And Morty Original Soundtrack (Sub Pop)

Rod Stewart — Blood Red Roses (Republic Records)

Roosevelt — Young Romance (City Slang)

Salopecia — Meanderthal (Hydra Head Records)

SCHAMMASCH — Contradiction (Prosthetic Records)

Seasick Steve — Can U Cook? (BMG)

Shigeto — Weighted EP (Ghostly)

Spain — Mandala Brush (Glitterhouse Records)

Spesh — Famous World (Killroom Records)

St. Lenox — Ten Fables Of Young Ambition And Passionate Love (Anyway)

Starset — Vessels 2.0 (Fearless Records)

Summer Salt — Happy Camper (Epitaph Records)

SUNFLO’ER — No Hell (Noise Salvation)

TAUK — Shapeshifter II: Outbreak (self-released)

Tilian Pearson (of Dance Gavin Dance) — The Skeptic (Rise Records)

Tim Cohen — The Modern World (Sinderlyn)

Tim Hecker — Konoyo (Kranky)

Tina Disco — Fastland (BMG)

Tom Petty — An American Treasure (Reprise Records)

Tommy And The Commies — Here Come… (Slovenly Recordings)

Tony Joe White — Bad Mouthin’ (Yep Roc Records)

Viagra Boys — Street Worms (YEAR0001)

VULCAIN — Vinyle (Season Of Mist)

VREID — Lifehunger (Season Of Mist)

Walking Dead On Broadway — Dead Era (Long Branch Records)

Wolfheart — Constellation Of The Black Light (Napalm Records)

Yumi Zouma — EP III (Cascine)

source https://uproxx.com/music/new-albums-coming-out-this-month-september-2018/

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