#it sounded like him playing backyard bbq rock

[darkarfs]

A Flourishing Scourge - Sickened Seed

Atvm - Famine, Putrid and Fucking Endless

Dream Unending - Song Of Salvation

Jon Hopkins - Music for Psychedelic Therapy

Mokira - FFT Pop

Shuttle358 - Can You Prove I Was Born

Mastodon - Hushed and Grim

Bitchin Bajas - Bitchitronics

Mark McGuire - Our Family

Aesop Rock - Integrated Tech Solutions

Mort Garson - Mother Earth's Plantasia

Keith Fullerton Whitman - Nadra Phalanx

[scabopolis]

Congrats on 600 followers!!!! How about Logan/Veronica and "Are you doubting my acting skills?" and/or any one of your 76 Danielle/Henry modern AUs?

Oh, Sarah, I’d do anything for you! I will eventually write a Danielle/Henry modern AU and it shall be dedicated to you, but for now, here is some Logan/Veronica friends to lovers inspired fake dating setup shenanigans.

--- Title: look at me like you like me Fandom: Veronica Mars Pairing: Logan/Veronica (side Wallace/Parker) Other Characters: Wallace, Parker, a frequent switching of tenses b/c this is barely edited.  Additional Tags: Should be a multichapter probably, friends to lovers (or idiots to friends to lovers??), fake dating shenanigans, Wallace sees all and knows all Word Count: ~1,800 ---

Sitting at brunch, her plate piled high with pancakes, Veronica Mars wonders just how long her best-friend thought he could get away with this. Logan Echolls (said best-friend) is currently walking slowly back and forth in front of the restaurant as he talks on his phone. He isn’t speaking, which means his mother is in the middle of a persuasive monologue. And everyone at their table knows what that means. 

“Charity gala?” Wallace asks. 

“My money’s on a distant relative’s wedding,” Parker says. 

“His parent’s anniversary is coming up,” Veronica says. “Could be their own party.” 

“What will they celebrate?” Wallace asks. “Ten years of sleeping in separate rooms and ignoring one another’s affairs?” 

“Regardless, I’m ready,” Parker says. 

Okay. Apparently Veronica’s isn’t the only one thinking about Logan’s go-to family event strategy. “You think he’ll ask you?” 

Parker frowns as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Why wouldn’t he?” 

Veronica draws a line in the air, connecting Wallace and Parker. “Well, for one, you’re married now.” 

“The people at these parties don’t know that,” Parker answers. 

The woman has a point. Veronica turns to Wallace. “And you’re okay with this?” 

“We’re living on two teacher’s salaries. If some wealthy man wants to be my wife’s platonic sugar daddy, who am I to stop him?” 

“I wanted to buy a new dress for your brother’s graduation anyway,” Parker says. 

“See! Perfect plan.” Wallace and Parker seal their agreement with a kiss and Veronica focuses on her pancakes. She cuts off a large bite with more force than strictly required and shovels the pancakes into her mouth. 

She isn’t sure why this whole conversation needles her. Something about Parker’s certainty, Veronica supposes. That it is going to be Parker who Logan calls on. To be fair, Parker and Logan’s arrangement pre-dates Veronica’s friendship with either of them. 

By the time Veronica met Parker their first year of grad school, Parker and Logan had been friends for four years. The pattern wherein Parker pretended to be Logan’s girlfriend at any and all society events his mother required him to attend was already well-established. Even after Veronica and Logan met, and it was quickly evident the two of them were destined to be platonic soulmates for the rest of their lives, it was still Parker that Logan turned to for help in these situations. Which, fair. Parker possesses levels of grace which Veronica can never hope to achieve. 

Veronica is much more apt to give a Hollywood director in his fifties judgey facial expressions when he introduces her to his barely legal wife. (A real thing that happened at an Echolls family BBQ. At least it still makes Logan laugh all these years later.)

It just didn’t occur to Veronica that it would always be Parker. Especially now that Parker is married. What is going to happen when she and Wallace decide to have a baby? How will they prevent word of Logan Echolls’ pregnant girlfriend from making the tabloid rounds? 

No. This is ridiculous. 

“She’s definitely not listening,” Wallace says, disapprovingly. 

“Some sort of fugue state?” Parker suggests. 

“Could be.” 

Veronica sighs. “What are you two talking about?”

“I wanted to know if it was all pancakes in general you seek to destroy, or if this one in particular had done something to upset you?” 

Her first instinct is to glare at Wallace. And then at Parker when she sniggers. Introducing the two of them to one another is the worst decision she’s ever made. But then she looks down at her plate. Sure enough, at some point she traded in eating her pancakes for cutting them into smaller pieces and then smushing them into the maple syrup. They no longer resemble an edible object.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Sure,” Wallace says, taking a well-timed sip of his coffee. His expression is all smug and knowing. 

Veronica is saved from additional Wallace stares and Parker sniggers by the return of Logan. He slides his phone into his blazer pocket and sits down beside Veronica, resting his arm on the back of Veronica’s chair. This is nothing new. Being best-friends with Logan means being comfortable with his rather tactile nature. But the look Logan’s action invites from Wallace is new. Veronica wants to spit at him. (Wallace. Not Logan.) 

(Portrait of grace, indeed.)

“What happened here?” Logan asks, gesturing to Veronica’s pancakes. 

“Nothing,” Veronica says. “What happened out there?” 

Logan’s fingers still from where he is lightly tracing the contours of her shoulder. “My mom and dad are renewing their vows.” 

For a moment all movement at their table ceases as they each take in this information. This despite Veronica's keen awareness of the fact that her guess was eerily close to being right. 

“I’m sorry. What?” she asks.

“That was about my reaction,” Logan says. “Want my bacon?” 

“Yes, please. They can’t be serious.” 

Logan slides his slices of bacon onto Veronica’s plate. “Serious about drumming up some positive PR, absolutely. Aaron was spotted looking a little too friendly with a married co-star. So, he and mom are going on a romantic getaway to Italy. When they get back they’ll do a backyard vow renewal.” 

“Logan—” 

The man in question holds up a hand, stopping Parker’s softly spoken entreaty. 

“No. I can’t do the talking about it thing right now. I can’t feel anything about it right now. What I need is a wedding date.” 

“Of course,” Parker rushes to answer. “Just tell me when.” 

“The weekend of June 11th.” 

“Absolutely. Deal,” Parker says, nodding enthusiastically. “Consider it—,” she trails off, her gaze somewhere over Veronica’s shoulder. 

“Consider it, what?” Logan asks.

“—Not something I can do.”  

“Why not?”

“That’s graduation weekend,” Parker explains. “I’m the faculty speaker.” 

“I’ll buy you shoes, too.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Logan says. “This way I can get very drunk and not feel bad about it.” 

Logan’s arm returns to the back of Veronica’s chair. This time his hand sort of hangs over her shoulder and curls around towards her clavicle. It makes it impossible to ignore details about Logan’s hands — the surprising delicacy of his fingers, the length of them, the weird knot on one of his knuckles. 

“I’ll do it,” Veronica says. 

“Do what?” Logan asks. 

“Be your fake girlfriend for the sham vow renewal. I can do it.” 

She refuses to look at anyone at the table. Not Parker. Sure as hell not Wallace.

(Seriously. Does he know something? Was it that night they all played King’s Cup and the two of them stayed up talking until 3:00 AM? Did she say something she wasn’t supposed to?)

And absolutely not Logan. She scrapes the edges of the smushed pancake with the tines of her fork. 

“Veronica.” Logan’s voice is soft, but she detects a hint of incredulity. Which, maybe she’s wrong and he isn’t her best-friend and he doesn’t know her very well, because it raises her hackles. 

She drops her fork. “What? Why not?” 

“Look, I love you. You know I love you.” Veronica ignores the little skitter of her pulse at Logan’s words, furrows her brow, and concentrates on being offended. “And you know me better than anyone.”

“But?” She prompts. 

“But,” he says, “you don’t really—” 

Before Logan can finish, she comes up with a dozen ways to complete the sentence. There is plenty she doesn’t have —the class, the patience, the height, the sweetness, the glamor, the—

“—look at me like you like me,” Logan finishes. 

“Wait. What?” Veronica’s eyes dart from Logan to Wallace to Parker. Neither one of them appear surprised by Logan’s words. In fact, Parker is faintly nodding in agreement. “Of course I like you. You’re my favorite person.” She thinks about this. “When you’re not being a total asshole.” 

“I know that. But, your face makes it look like you want to slap me most of the time.” 

“Because I do.” 

“It’s just not the most conducive to convincing my mother to not set me up with the daughter of whichever producer she is trying to impress.” 

“I’ll change my face.” 

“Change it?” 

“I can look like I like you.” 

“Really?” 

“I’ve been in love before, you know.” Veronica’s hackles are now standing at full attention. “Are you doubting my acting skills?”

“I would never,” Logan says. 

“Good. Because I could be the sweetest goddamned fake girlfriend you’ve ever had.” Veronica turns to Parker. “No offense.” 

“None taken.” 

“I’ll even use pet names. Schmoopsie. Snuggle muffin. Sweet cheeks. What’s your preference?” 

“My preference is none of them.” 

Still, despite his words, Logan seems to consider it. Veronica takes the time to nibble on one of the slices of bacon from Logan’s plate. If she isn’t mistaken, Parker and Wallace kept shooting each other, what they probably believe to be, covert glances. What are those glances supposed to mean? Does Parker know something too? Damned married couples with their telling each other things. 

“My mom does love you,” Logan eventually says. 

“See, I already have a leg up,” Veronica says. “And I can absolutely rock a floor length gown.” 

“Can you?” 

“I was on homecoming court senior year.” 

“You were?” She’s not certain which of the voices speaking in unison sound more shocked, Logan’s or Parker’s, but regardless she is deeply offended. She’ll look classy and hot as hell and that will show them. 

“Yeah,” Wallace says, “Keith still has the picture hanging up in his house. It’s hilarious.” Veronica glares at him. “Hilarious, because of how great you look. Obviously.” 

“I don’t want to make you do this,” Logan says.

Veronica doesn’t have time to question why he would make Parker do this but for some reason wants to spare her.  

“Hey.” She reaches up for the hand still draped over her shoulder and laces their fingers together. Logan looks down at her. His eyes are all soft and heavy lidded; like they sometimes get when he’s sleepy. 

(She’s also noticed they can kind of look like that when she’s ranting about a coworker. Or, that one time she helped her dad install a fence and came over to Logan’s place after. Her hands were full of splinters and Logan was so careful and gentle, removing each one with a very expensive pair of tweezers.)

“This is going to suck. Isn’t it?” she asks. 

He nods. “Yeah. I think it will.” 

“Then let me be there for you.” He doesn’t say anything. “I’ll work on my face. Promise.” 

That gets him to crack a smile. “If you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“Then great.”

“Great.”

“Did I just get replaced?” Parker asks. 

Veronica shrugs. “I like nice shoes too, you know.” 

Logan gives her hand a squeeze. 

Oh. Look at that. She didn’t even notice they were still holding hands.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Hey bub!! I love your writing. I don’t know if your taking any requests or anything but if you are, it would be really cute if you did a little something about Harry and his 2 year old little girl going to a cookout for 4th of July. They could go over and spend time with Anne and Gemma have a little pool party and bbq. His little girl throw a couple tantrums and put her in timeout and threaten her with “if you don’t behave y’ going inside” and also have Harry buy them matching clothes and bathing suits. I know it’s late since the 4th was a couple days ago but I just thought it would be really cute. And also I don’t know if the UK celebrates the 4th at all (sorry if they don’t, I’m not from there and I’m not really smart with other counties lol)

Hello, there!

The UK doesn't celebrate the 4th of July. It's just an American thing unless they wish to celebrate just for the fun of it. I have been in the US for a few 4th of July's, and it's pretty fun, but other countries don't celebrate it. I tried this piece of writing, but I have a headache, and I am tired, but I wanted to answer this as soon as I saw it.

With the chaos with everything going on, Harry had no intentions of travelling back to Europe any time soon. On the contrary, he liked the idea of not lugging his two-year-old through airports and on a long haul back to England. But, with his wife back and forth from New York to LA and both of them constantly flying, he decided that travelling for one of the busiest holidays was not the smartest of ideas.

Harry watches her in the rearview mirror, her little hands tugging at her little converse that she refuses to want to keep on. Of all the things for her to fight him on, she wanted to choose the shoes this morning. She doesn't care to fight him on the little red bow in her hair or the fact he promised his wife that he would make sure to wear the matching shirts she had sent. He isn't sure what it is about her tradition of wearing matching shirts and American apparel, but he won't question it. His wife may be stuck working, but her every wish is his command. "Why you playin' with your shoes?" Harry questions, his daughters instantly looking up at him, her lips falling into a pout, shaking her head at him. "Gotta keep 'em on until we get to your Aunt Gemma's, just a few more minutes," Harry encourages, watching as she narrows her eyes but quickly lets go of her shoes with a heavy huff. If anything, his daughter got from his wife. It was most definitely her sass and attitude. His daughter did not get her obedience from him. Harry chuckles to himself, shaking his head and continuing to drive.

Reaching his sister's house, he pulls into the driveway and turns to look into the back seat, "Now, darling, promise to be good?"

His daughter nods her head with a sweet little smile, "Yes, Daddy," she agrees, "But no shoes?" She questions, gesturing towards her shoes, causing Harry to sigh heavily. He knows she is going to bug him about the damn shoes until he gives in.

Harry hops out of the car and opens the back door, leaning in and unclipping his daughter from her seat, "Come on, lovely," Harry grins, taking her out from her car seat and placing her down, her little shoes hitting the hot concrete, the LA sun already scorching as it shines in the early morning. Harry turns back around, reaching in to grab the bag of all the essentials, spare clothes, spare bottles, anything he could think of that he may need. As much as his sister loves her niece, Harry knows that she has not had the time to buy toddler items for her niece in her prompt move to the US. "Hey, hey, no running off-" Harry begins, noticing his daughter hurrying off. He goes to scold her but stops when she sees her running into his mother's arms. "Goin' to give me a fuckin' heart attack one day," Harry mutters to himself, taking a breath to calm down. He is always on edge when her little legs take off.

"Oh, my darling, hello!" He hears his mother's gracious voice sound as she holds her grandaughter tightly, "Almost got yourself in trouble as always," Harry's mother chuckles, stepping closer to Harry.

"You got that right," Harry responds, offering his mother a small smile, "Hi, Mum," he greets, kissing her cheek before placing a small hat on his daughter, "Glad you made it in safely. How was your flight?" Harry asks.

"Quite lovely, not as crowded as I expected. Your sister has been here for a week and is going to burn her house down. She has the BBQ going..." Anne trails off.

Harry laughs, "Is that why I can smell charcoal?" ... "No need to worry. Your favourite son is here to save the day." Harry closes his car door, "Y/N sends her love. But, unfortunately, she couldn't get a flight out in time," Harry sighs, his lips turning into a frown for a brief moment.

"I know, she called me earlier. I told her I would fly out to visit her next week."

"Wow, okay, I see how it is," Harry chuckles, "Don't plan to visit me but will fly to my wife, got it," Harry gently nudges his mum, purposely teasing her.

***

Harry spent the morning in the pool, throwing his daughter around in the crystal clear pool water, her giggle filling the space around them. He had wanted to swim with her before the pool became too crowded for her. He knows she'd get anxious and overwhelmed, so it was only fair to give her a swim before the chaos.

With a dry towel wrapped around her body and her little fourth of July bathing suit, her hair falls around her face, her lips pouting as she subtly stomps her little feet, "But Daddy," she whines, not pleased with the fact she has to get out to reapply sunscreen.

She has been on her best behaviour until now, and Harry has to be the bad guy for a good reason.

"If ye' don't behave yourself, you're going to go inside and sit in time out," Harry softly informs his stubborn daughter, "Now, we can put your sunscreen on and wait for a little and go back in the pool, or we can go sit inside."

"Aunt Gemma no have a time out chair," his daughter responds.

"I will find one, darling," Harry responds, trying not to laugh at her comment, "So, pool or time out?"

"Pool," she mumbles, dropping her arms in defence and giving into Harry's demand for a quick sunscreen break.

"Good decision. Do want a juice?" Harry offers as he picks her up and carries her away from the edge of the pool. "Aunt Gemma has your favourite," Harry grins, doing his best to keep his daughter hydrated without having to fight her on it.

"Orange?"

"Of course," Harry responds, stepping inside the house, "If you ask nicely, she might give you some," Harry continues, placing her little feet down, adjusting her towel before gesturing for her to head to his sister.

***

Harry stands in the backyard with a beer in his hand, a few mutual friends' of him and his sister talking with him as he grills on the BBQ, ultimately taking it over like a typical Dad. He knew if he left it to his sister, everyone would be eating burned food and God knows what else. "Mate, we need to start our tequila label. We would have a good brew."

Harry chuckles, "Oi, I told you that the last time I had too much to drink, and you told me I was bonkers."

Niall shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, "Well, I was not in the right state of mind."

"Whatever," Harry shakes his head, "Did you watch the game?"

"Of course, I did. Did you?"

"No, my cable provider here doesn't play it," Harry huffs, "Had to listen on my phone and missed it all."

Before Niall can reply, they both hear the little whines that are all too familiar. He turns his head and finds the little girl with brown curls looking around, looking lost as she tries to find whoever she is looking for. "Over here, sweetheart," Harry calls, already beginning to walk towards her. He reaches her and picks her up, holding her on his hip, "What's the matter?" he questions as she wipes away a few tears. He can tell she is overwhelmed with her eyes darting around everywhere, her heart beating fast.

"I want Mummy," she sniffles, "Aunt Gemma left, and I no know where she went," she spits out through sniffles, burying herself into Harry's neck.

Harry sighs and caresses his hand to her back, "I know, we will see Mummy soon. I am sure Aunt Gemma is around somewhere," he assures her, "Come on, let's go inside for a minute," Harry whispers, passing the BBQ duty off to Niall, gesturing his head to the house, and Niall nods.

Harry takes his daughter inside, the cool air whispering around them as he passes a few friends and walks down the hallway, finding his sisters room and sitting on the edge of the bed. He massages his daughter's back, holding her close and adjusting her legs to be more comfortable. "Sleepy, hmm?" Harry softly challenges, starting to rock her slightly. She mumbles something inaudible, and he smiles to himself, "Sweet dreams, my darling," he whispers, beginning to softly hum, rocking her to sleep like he always does, no matter where or when.

The bedroom door slowly creaks open, and Harry flicks his eyes towards the door. "Sorry," he whispers as his sister walks in. "Didn't mean to take your room but figured it would be the quietest," Harry informs his sister, guilt settling in as he realises he didn't bother to tell her he would be in her private space.

"Shh," she shakes her head, "I don't care, brought her blanket," she holds up the small yellow blanket that his daughter loves, carefully placing it over her petite body.

Harry continues to rock his little girl, looking down at her as she peacefully sleeps. In his arms, he holds his pride and joy. No matter how many times she tests his patience and takes her shoes off, the little girl is everything to him. He'd drop everything for her in the blink of an eye, no matter what time of day it is. Outside, the other adults are having the time of their life, drinking beer, eating some good American food, and celebrating the occasion. Harry wouldn't want to be anywhere else but holding his little angel and watching her sleep, making sure she feels safe and secure.

[fieldsofplay]

Favorite Albums of 2020

25. Dehd – Flower of Devotion

Rather than look back on the shit year that was 2020, lets keep our eye on the hope of the horizon.  Speaking of which, Dehd herald much of what’s to come on this here list.  While as previously mentioned a shit year for most everything besides presidential politics, 2020 proved to be a great year for good old fashioned guitar music.  Could I be accused of curling up with my version of musical comfort food? Perhaps.  But starting off with Dehd, we have a type of band that used to be everywhere and now seems to be almost nowhere.  Jangly lo-fi guitars, perky drums, and straightforward unadorned singing.  About five years ago you couldn’t throw a rock in Brooklyn without hitting a band like this, but now that that fad is long gone.  I’m glad that Chicago’s Dehd are still carrying the torch.  

24. Perfume Genius – Set My Heart on Fire Immediately

I’ve always liked Perfume Genius, but for whatever reason Set My Heart on Fire Immediately is the album that took him out of the realm of casual background musical encounter to something I sought out.  Chamber pop has never really been my thing (except for those couple summers where Grizzly Bear was totally my jam), but here the torch songs catch fire by the compressed force of Michael Hadreas’ longing.  This record also pulls off the impressive feat of each song gradually morphing just a bit from what proceeds it, so that the whole record sounds similar and yet each song carves out its own little generic niche, the whole thing united by the quivering power of that pleading voice.  

23. 2nd Grade – Hit to Hit

If you ever found yourself wondering what Guided by Voices would sound like if they wanted to be Big Star instead of punk rock Kinks, we now have the answer, and it’s Phily’s 2nd Grade.  In the noble tradition of Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes, Hit to Hit’s 24 tracks breeze by in a mere 41 minutes and 8 seconds.  An earworm sunny melody, a quick guitar hook, a second verse (maybe), and poof, each song is gone before you could ever miss it.  You would think variation would be difficult working within such tight musical corners, but while each song clearly shares common DNA, there is actually a lot of variance here, from weepy country ditties (“Bye Bye Texas”) to overdriven stompers (“Baby’s First Word”) though they all tend to orbit the same (big) star.  

22. Tame Impala – The Slow Rush

I’ll be the first to admit that The Slow Rush isn’t my favorite Tame Impala record, not by a long shot.  Having said that, this album still feels like it got short shrift this year (not that anyone can really complain about that in these here times).  If we never knew that Lonerism or Innerspeaker or Currents existed, I wonder how much people would be head over heels for this album.  “One More Year” “Is It True” and “Posthumous Forgiveness” are all top notch Impala jams.  Seems like this album is the soundtrack for the chilled out summer hangs that we never got to have, and thus it’s fitting that it seems condemned for the ash-heap of history rather than the late-night come downs we never got up to.

21. Against All Logic – 2017 – 2019

Ah, speaking of complicated musical relationships, I can never seem to chart a clear course with Nicolas Jaar.  The music he puts out under his own name never seems to do much for me, but I dug his collaboration with Dave Harrington as Darkside, and I really love most everything he’s put out as Against All Logic.  While admittedly not a great year for house music—normally a liberating genre of communal interconnectivity, now a cruel reminder that we all live in Footloose—a banger remains a banger, and 2017-2019 is full to the brim with them.  While I honestly can’t remember the last time I went dancing, I’ll still crank up “Fantasy” and bop around my living room, literally dancing by myself (lets be honest, something I would have done pandemic or no).  

20. Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters

Fetch the Bolt Cutters has had a lot of great things said about it this year, so I don’t really have to add that much.  What I will say is this is perhaps the most interesting percussion I’ve ever heard on a record.  There is percussion all over the place, but almost none of it in the form of full-kit drumming.  Fiona always used the left hand on the piano as the rhythmic center of her songs, but here there is drilling, tapping, rapping, patting.  The phrase DIY gets tossed around all the time (and almost never applied to big money, big label Fiona) but to me the most impressive thing about this record is how it always sounds like she is sitting at a rickety upright piano in the corner of a living room, while everyone congregating around keeps the beat by tapping on pots and pans, the walls, whatever is at hand.  I’ve truly never heard anything like it.  

19. Advertisement – American Advertisement

Godbless Seattle’s Advertisement. So long as there is cheap beer, old shitty cars driving with the windows down, and the U-SofA, there’ll be bands like Advertisement.  Straight out of the vein of Cheap Trick and the more recent White Reaper, Advertisement play power pop with the emphasis on the power.  Sometimes this type of music gets called sleazy, but honestly I don’t get it.  I think its probably because you can imagine it playing while Wooderson drives around Austin looking for redheads. While we rightfully cancelled the song of summer this year, “Upstream Boogie” would have gotten my vote, perfect for backyard bbqs and cannonballing into creeks.  

18. Nation of Language – Introduction, Presence

I didn’t set it up this way, but if Advertisement has a diametric opposite, its probably Nation of Language.  Where Advertisement is all frayed edges and foam, Nation of Language is as buttoned up as those terrible sports jackets people wore in the early ‘90s.  While its not as good as my beloved Black Marble, those bands share enough DNA to make me a big fan of this synth pop gem.  It’s not as dark as the cold-wave Black Marble, but it does share that bands fondness for stark baselines and crisp arpeggios.  If you’ve ever envisioned your life as a scene from a John Hughes movie, Nation of Language could easily be playing in the background.

17. The Soft Pink Truth – Shall we Go on Sinning so that Grace May Increase?

Indulge me in a moment of naval gazing.  Every year as I put these things together I reach a point where I’m lack “damn, this album is this low on the list?” And the point at which that thought enters my head is usually indicative of how good a year for music it was.  Now 2020 wasn’t a good year for anything, and I probably spent the least time of any year listening to music, new, old, whatever.  For the most part I just listened to the Grateful Dead and ambient albums.  However, for my idiosyncratic tastes, 2020 was actually a pretty fucking incredible year for new music, as evinced by the fact that this album is all the way down at 17.  

Earlier on in 2020 as I was bombarding my poor local music text thread with yet more of my inane musings, I think I declared this a top 3 album of the year.  And I wasn’t lying!  “Pretty” is often a dirty word in aesthetic appreciation, but this is certainly the “prettiest” album of the year in the best sense of the word.  From the Drew Daniel half of Matmos comes Shall we Go on Sinning so that Grace May Increase?  A record that is somehow simultaneously deep house and feather light, so much so that it needs its own dumb internet music writing moniker—shallow house? wide house? vacation house? (actually kinda like that last one).  With vocals from Jana Hunter, Angel Deradoorian, and Colin Self (with whom I wasn’t previously familiar) this thing will simultaneously make you want to tap your foot and drift off into the clouds.  This is album is like the prayer Madonna sang about all those years ago.  

16. Kurt Vile – Speed, Sound, Lonely KV

It’s not at all surprising that if Kurt Vile decided he wanted to go country western he’d be really fucking good at it.  First of all, he’s an exceptional acoustic guitar picker.  Secondly, his voice, while always befitting his hazed out urban rockers, has just enough twang to it that in retrospect it always sounded a little bit country.  This record also gives me room to offer up an homage to the late great John Prine, for whom the EP is essentially a tribute.  Vile covers two Prine songs, dueting with the man himself on “How Lucky.” Saying goodbye is never easy, but on Speed, Sound, Lonely (both the album, and the song more or less by that name) Vile manages a fitting tribute to a lost legend.  

15. Lomelda – Hannah

The reviews of Hannah really did Lomelda a disservice.  Sure, they were glowing, but they made it sound like this was some weepy milquetoast singer songwriter affair, when it’s actually a knotty album full off elliptical piano and fuzzed out electric guitar.  Its 14 tracks hurtle by, largely due to the fact that almost all of them are under 3 and a ½ minutes.  Things really get going with the second track, “Hannah Sun” with is squiggly synth effects and driving acoustic strums carrying on Hannah Read’s musings.  It’s an album of relentless forward musical movement even if the vibe feels like it’s always looking back over its shoulder.  Basically this album is what emo would sound like if it wasn’t made by the worst people in the universe.  

14. Shabaka and the Ancestors – We are Sent here by History

Jazz! Another great year for jazz (Asher Gamedze’s Dialectic Soul and Keefe Jackson, Jim Baker, & Julian Kirshner’s So Glossy and So Thin are with a strong group that just missed the cut).  In the midst of an excellent jazz renaissance (you gotta use super annoying words like “renaissance” when talking about jazz) Shebaka Hutchins remains my absolute fave of the bunch, and We are Sent here by History is probably my favorite thing he has put out so far.

13. Waxahatchee – Saint Cloud

While I really liked Waxahatchee’s low-fi emoish debut—American Weekend—I’ll readily admit I wasn’t much about the popier albums that followed, frequently jesting, honestly, that Allison was my preferred musical Crutchfield sister.  All that changed for me with Saint Cloud.  I’ve certainly drifted far off into country and Americana as I’ve aged, and it appears the same came be said for Katie Crutchfield.  These songs have a giddyup to them but they never break out into a gallop, allowing the strength of the melodies to carry them along across the plains, with just the right hint of twilight.  Saint Cloud is the sound of Patsy Cline if she played to roadside inns rather than the Grand Ol’ Opry.  

12. Neil Young – Homegrown

This was the hardest album to place on the list this year.  For starters, should it even count? Clearly I say yes.  While some of these songs have been available for over 30 years, as an album, Homegrown was a “new” release here in 2020, even though it was originally slated to come out in ’75 between On the Beach (my personal fave Neil record) and Zuma.  As a pure piece of music, is it better than most, if not all, of the records that follow? Of course yes.  But what does a new Neil Young record mean in 2020? As a thought experiment its fascinating.  Do we value this album within the musical context of 2020 or 1975? Fortunately, it’s an even more enjoyable listen than it is a thought experiment.  From the first strums of “Separate Ways” you’re like “oh shit, this is the vintage stuff.” Gentle amber acoustic numbers (“Try”) share space with electric stompers (“Vacancy”).  The best thing you can say about Homegrown is that if Neil had originally decided to release this instead of Tonight’s The Night, it would have fit right in amongst his unimpeachable run from Everybody Knows This is Nowhere up through Zuma.  A classic is still a classic, no matter what year it finally sees the light of day.  

11. Destroyer – Have we Met

Ah Dan Bejar, boy was I wrong about you.  I kinda got into Destroyer’s Rubies, I loved his contributions to Swan Lake and The New Pornographers, but yet when Chinatown started really making waves, I just couldn’t do it.  It was soft rock! I hate soft rock! I hate everything about it!  This preconceived notion wasn’t helped by the fact that I saw him open for the War on Drugs in Pontiac once and he was so drunk he could barely stand up and had to read his own lyrics from a sheet.  And yet, for some reason I never really gave up on it. I can’t tell you why exactly, but two summers ago Chinatown just slowly became my go-to for early morning / late afternoon strolls. I found comfort in giving myself over to its pillowy soft embrace / cheating on my own aesthetic judgments.  Now that I’m card-carrying Bejarhead, I greeted Have we Met with open arms, and I was not disappointed.  The synths glimmer, the guitars add just enough punch, and his lyrics remain sharp as ever.  Its fitting that this was the last concert I saw before the iron curtain fell.  The one thing I had always turned my back on ended up being the last memory of dionysian group enthrallment I had to carry with me out into the desert of social isolation.  Come back soon Destroyer, come back soon, everyone.

10. Deeper – Auto-Pain

Ladies and gentlemen, get ready, because post punk is back! I always say my favorite genre is ‘sad songs you can dance to’ but post punk is a close second.  When I was in college post punk underwent a bit of a renaissance in the form of Interpol (back when they were still good), Bloc Party (ditto), Franz Ferdinand, and a whole slew of British one hit wonders (Maximo Park, Futureheads, Art Brut, the Bravery).  Fortunately, as is always the case, what’s old is new again, and stark melodic bass lines, angular guitars, and moody introspective speak-singing are back in full force.  Of the three post punk bands gracing this here top ten (Deeper, Fontaines DC, and Crack Cloud) each has its own little slice of the generic pie.  Fontaines have the deep gloom of Interpol/Joy Division, Crack Cloud ripple with the staccato energy of Gang of Four, and Deeper have the wiry dancieness of, well, Wire. So long as leather jackets and black and white photography remain cool, there’ll always be bands like this, and thank god for that.  In a true sign o’ the times, I learned about this band from some random girl’s Tik Tok in my for-you feed.  She repped five bands, two of which are in my top three, so I was like, sure I’ll give this band Deeper a go.  God bless the internet.  Finally, Deeper get bonus points for naming a song “This Heat,” who I’ve been spending a lot of time revisiting this year, and whose spikey guitars are all over this record.  

9. The Flaming Lips – American Head

There are few things as satisfying in art as being genuinely surprised by a beloved artist you had given up as culturally dead.  Since putting out their last masterpiece (2009’s Embryonic) the Lips have put out a string of good, if inconsequential, albums that befitting the ethos of the band could best be described as half baked (The Terror, Oczy Moldy, and a series of collaborative experiments).  Basically, they had reached that dreaded nadir where I was no longer interested in listening to their new output (cough The National, cough cough Arcade Fire).  So what made me give American Head a chance? That reader, is the point of art criticism! I can’t remember how the blurb on pitchfork read exactly, but I knew it referenced Tom Petty and a return to a preoccupation with more Earthly concerns—namely ‘70s heartland rock.  Well, this sounded intriguing, and boy was I not disappointed.  Sure, the Flaming Lips have already reached their sell-by date twice over (first in 1992, immediately followed by their MTV reinvention on 1993’s Transmissions from the Satellite Heart; and then again in the late ‘90s with the departure of guitarist Ronald Jones, followed by their creative pinnacle, ‘99’s symphonic masterpiece The Soft Bulletin), so it shouldn’t be all that surprising that this band could rise from the dead a third time.  Only, for the most part, they didn’t.  I guess I’m not surprised that American Head failed to reach a broader audience. Most people probably aren’t even aware that they are still a going concern, and after the failures of the last decade it makes sense that most weren’t interested in more tunes from the Oklahoma freaknicks.  But for those willing to give the band another chance, American Head easily delivers their best album since Embryonic, if not all the way back to Yoshimi.  Mixing ‘70s Americana with the star gazing of Soft Bulletin’s “Sleeping on the Roof,” the Lips deliver their best album in decades by foregoing the parlor tricks and returning to what they do best, taking trips to distant galaxies while keeping their feet firmly planted in the soil and songcraft of Oklahoma.

8. Cut Worms – Nobody Lives Here Anymore

This one is pretty easy.  Do you like George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass? If yes, listen to Nobody Lives Here Anymore and revel in this double album’s upbeat acoustic rock mediations.  If no, well there’s plenty of other good stuff out there.  Not quite as metaphysical or orchestral as All Things Must Pass, Nobody Lives Here Anymore still manages to hit that rockabiliy-pop sweet spot that Harrison used to mine.  I’m not quite sure what the definition of “troubadour” is, but it feels safe to call Cut Worms a troubadour, which is certainly better than his terrible stage name.  

7. Cigarettes for Breakfast – Aphantasia

Similar to Cut Worms, Cigarettes for Breakfast also involves a simple influence equation.  Do you pray at the altar of Loveless? If so, Aphantasia is just the record for you.  Sure, it’s a bit of My Bloody Valentine paint by numbers (“Breathe” even features the same squally guitar noise [it’s really hard to try and describe My Bloody Valentine effects ha] as “Soft as Snow (But Warm Inside)”) but when you’re as into shoegaze as I am, that’s never really a bad thing.  Plus, I’m being a bit unfair.  Everyone with textured tremolo heavy wall-of-sound guitars and cooed vocals is going to inevitably be compared to MBV, and Cigarettes for Breakfast do enough to chart their own course.  Perhaps most interesting is the musical journey this record charts.  Its loudest moment is its opening, where pummeling guitars more reminiscent of Sonic Youth with a touch of Dinosaur Jr. rip across hardcore style drumming. From there each song becomes a little more ambient, until closer “If Someone Could Help Me, Please” more or less floats away on its shimmering sheets of beautiful noise clouds.  In this sense, it bears a resemblance in structure, if not in sound, to Deerhunter’s Cryptograms, another album I spent a lot of time revisiting this year.  A shutout here is owed to the fine folks at Radio K, who had me diving for my shazam as this thing ripped across their airwaves.  So long as there is college radio, there’ll be a new crop of kids discovering via Kevin Shields that the electric guitar contains endless sonic possibilities.  

6. Fontaines D.C. – A Hero’s Death

The second entry in our top-ten post punk trio is A Hero’s Death by Fontaines D.C.  I’ll admit, on first blush it’s kind of a dumb band name (I just assumed they were some hardcore band from Washington DC chasing those Dischord Records glory days), but when you learn that the “DC” stands for Dublin City, it all clicks, as this band is sorta inescapably Irish in the way that James Joyce is.  Now this fact at first was also off-putting—if I went the rest of my life without ever hearing the Dropkick Murphy’s again I’d be quite content—but eventually it becomes integral to their sound, and not just because of the brogue in Garin Chatten’s vocals.  “Love is the Main Thing” is an incredible song in many ways, most notably because of the hypnotic quality of the drumming with its counterpoint between riding cymbal and staccato toms, but perhaps in the main (*wink*) for the way it manages to connote the weariness of a grey urban environment without ever being explicitly about it.  Just as Turn on the Bright Lights managed to perfectly capture New York in 2001, A Hero’s Death to me is the aural equivalent of a dense urban center like Dublin, especially after nightfall.  

5. Imaginary Softwoods – Annual Flowers in Color

It should come as no surprise that I listened to A LOT of ambient this year, and to me there was no better electronic record to chill the fuck out to during this insane year than Annual Flowers in Color.  I absolutely loved Emeralds’ Does it Look Like I’m Here? and was devastated they never followed that gem (*wink*) up.  In the immediate aftermath of the demise of Emeralds Mark McGuire’s solo albums got a lot of attention, but apparently the person I really loved in Emeralds was Imaginary Softwoods’ John Elliot.  Annual Flowers in Color is like if Dead City’s, Red Seas, Lost Ghosts were waiting in the departure’s lounge of Eno’s airport.  At the heart of the album lies the 10 plus minutes of “Another First/Sea Machine.” I could listen to this song forever, and on some particularly WTF 2020 lakewalks I more or less have.  Chunky synths, arpeggios that drift off to infinity, ‘80s soundtrack nostalgia.  I could live in these Softwoods for the rest of my sonic days.  

4. Pottery – Welcome to Bobby’s Motel

In another moment of nostalgia for my college years, Pottery are a welcome return to weird ass experimental Canadian bands.  They don’t sound anything like the Unicorns, but in spirit Pottery kind of remind me of them.  I’ve spilled a lot of digital ink here and elsewhere bemoaning the fact that Pitchfork (or perhaps, me) isn’t cool anymore, and to me no band embodies this more than Pottery.  They take a bunch of fun disparate elements—Talking Heads dance art rock, periodic weird pitch shifted vocal effects, hazy deep purple style guitars, and Queen style machismo disco—throw them into a witch’s cauldron, and come up with something off the wall that sounds like nothing else but is also instantly familiar.  This is the type of thing Pitchfork would have been all over in 2007, but instead now they’re too busy chasing conde nast clout clicks.  Oh well, nothing gold can last. But enough negativity, this here is a celebration of the joy of new music, and no new band embodies that unbridled joy like Pottery.  Along with Fontaines DC, this is the band I wish I most could have bopped around to with a bunch of sweaty strangers in the 7th St. Entry or Turf Club.  You can just imagine the call and response vocals and funky grooves getting the people moving.  Oh well, hopefully we’ll soon all be rocking the vaccine, they can breeze through town, and I’ll be the first person on the dance floor embarrassingly pumping my fist a half beat behind the rhythm.  

3. Pure X – Pure X

To paraphrase Same Elliott in the Big Lebowski, sometimes there’s a band, and well, sometimes there’s a band.  For me this year, that band was Pure X.  I absolutely loved their debut Pleasure way back in 2011, when lo-fi reverb heavy slow guitar music (ie, Galaxie 500) was all the rage. Their follow up Crawling up the Stairs was so bad I didn’t even bother listening to Angel, though perhaps that also owed a decent amount to just how terrible the art on that record is.  (I’ve since remedied this mistake; turns out that record rules).  Being that as it may, I can’t particularly tell you what drew me in to this year’s self-titled album, a full nine years after Pleasure first graced the stage.  In one sense it’s probably because Pleasure is one those albums that just never went out of my rotation.  Whenever the fahrenheit tips past 90 and the walk to the bodega is a few blocks longer than you’d like, that record always hits the spot.  Maybe I just knew this was the record I needed this year.  Either way, from the first bars of “Middle America” I was hooked.  The guitars crash over you, but never in a threatening way. Rather, they envelop you like a weighted blanket, comforting you in their sonic embrace.  Nowhere is this more true than on “Fantasy,” easily my favorite song of 2020 (especially since this was a year entirely devoid of dance floor bangers).  If this album came out in 1999 rather than 2020 I would have hit the repeat button on my discman and listened to this song forever.  

2. Crack Cloud – Pain Olympics

Pain Olympics is the answer to the question that no one asked: what if Arcade Fire’s (back when they were good) communal uplift was paired with Gang of Four’s stark anthem’s of industrialism’s collapse?  While on first blush this might sound like your standard album of punkish fist pumping angst, from when the female vocals (sorry there are too many people in this band for me to be able to figure out whose who) come in on opener “Post Truth (Birth of a Nation)” Pain Olympics reveals itself to be a very strange animal (likely a unicorn of some sort), especially as little orchestral swirls creep into the mix, giving it an almost Judy Garland (in hell) quality.  This subtle genre pastiche is given its best effect on stunner “The Next Fix.” That song starts out as an elastic spoken-word call and response addiction rumination, at the minute mark it starts to segue into a vocoded chill raver, then some horns crop up out of nowhere, then a spoken word passage, then at the two minute mark a chorus of voices come in, doing their best Broken Social Scene in the truest sense of the phrase.  This is perhaps one of the strangest records I’ve ever heard, but what is strangest of all is just how beautiful it is.  Crack Cloud are not for everyone, but if you really give it a chance, the returns are limitless.  

1. SAULT – Untitled (Rise) / Untitled (Black Is)

You cannot tell the story of 2020 without SAULT, which is why this pair of records is here at the top, even if under the influence of sodium pentothal (lets be honest, veritaserum) I might lean more towards Pain Olympics.  In June, the “anonymous” London project put out Untitled (Black Is), and then quickly followed that gem up with September’s Untitled (Rise).  Perhaps more amazing still is that these two albums, released so close together, have unique personalities.  Black Is is more pop/R&B whereas Rise has a dancy, electr(on)ic feel.  I lean more towards the latter, but honestly, both albums are so overstuffed with amazing moments that it’s borderline unbelievable that one outfit could put out so much amazing music in such a short span.  While these records would chart high even if sung in Hopelandic, there’s no escaping the social import of the lyrics.  One need look no further than Black Is’s “Don’t Shoot Guns Down” for the 2020 dance party at the end of the world.  As if that weren’t more than enough, it finds its analogue on Rise’s “Street Fighter,” and that’s SAULT in a nutshell: two albums in constant communication with one another, and more importantly, with the state of the world.  Guns down.  Don’t Shoot.  Let’s dance.  

[leelee10898]

Fast cars & Freedom: Sit next to me (8/?) Part 1

Pairing: Logan x Ellie, Colt x Ellie

Summary: Logan and Ellie talk, the test is taken, and someone spills the beans.... literally.

Rating: Mature... sex.. yep...

A/N: So this will be a 2 parter, just way to much to get out in 1 post... enjoy!! If you would like added to the tag list, let me know.. catch up HERE

Song inspiration:

Ellie sat in her office, it was Wednesday and she still hadn't heard from Logan. “knock knock.” a voice came at her door. “Oh hi Mr mann- Eli.” she looked up to see her boss standing in the doorway. “Have you had any luck getting those statements from Mr Rider?” he walked in sitting in front of her desk.

The statements shit! She internally scolded herself. She had been so caught up in her personal life drama she let her work slip, that ended today. “I am meeting with Logan to get them.” A smile spread across Elias's face “Excellent. Keep up the good work.”

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in.  This standoff with Logan ended now. She picked up her phone and rattled off a text.

“I know you are pissed at me, but this is not a personal call. Unless you want to find a new Accountant, we need to meet TODAY.”

A few minutes later her phone vibrated, a response from Logan. “ 1pm. i'll send the address.” a few seconds later another text with an address came through. She looked at the clock. She had about half an hour until the meeting and with traffic and the distance she needed to go now. She switched on her out of office messages and took off to the location Logan sent her.

She pulled up to a large gated house. The gate opened and she drove around front parking. Before she could knock on the door Logan opened it up motioning for her to come in.

“Wow, is this your house?” she marveled at the open floor plan. There wasn't much to it in all honesty.  Some furniture, a large TV. A stocked bar area and some framed car art.

“It's better than a box.” he chuckled. They sat on the couch, Ellie getting right down to the professional side of the business she had to attend. Logan having everything she needed ready.

They sat in an awkward silence before Ellie broke it. “Logan, im sorry. I know you're mad at me.”

“I'm not mad at you Ellie. Well, not anymore. I'm upset. I knew you had feelings for him, I knew it when I caught you two together.”

Ellies mind took her back to the night she knew she was in way to deep.

****

“Were gonna get caught Colt.” Ellie giggled as he pressed his body against hers on the couch.  “Nobody is here, everyone went out on a job. and pop is at a meeting. They'll be gone for hours.” his hand slide up to unbutton her jeans. He lifted himself up pulling the jeans down with him, leaving her in just her bra and panties. His lips came down hard on hers as she completely lost herself in the kiss. Her hands frantically pawing at his fully clothed body. “Less. Of. This.” she pulled on his shirt and breathed out between heated kisses. The sides of his lips tugged up into a sinister smirk, she wanted him as bad as he wanted her.

He pulled his shit over his head, tossing it across the room. She stopped for a minute, running her hands down his hard chest, before he stood pulling every last piece of clothing from his body. Ellie propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes widening at the sight of him, suddenly very aware of what she committed herself to. “See something you like?” she bit her lip nodding. In an instant he was on her again. Peppering playful kisses on her neck, down the valley of her breast. His hand reached around, effortlessly unfastening her bra, tossing it aside. His lips found her pink buds, as he flicked his tongue, capturing one in his mouth, before moving onto the next. He placed feather light kisses down her stomach, settling on her hips. Her heartbeat racing in anticipation as his strong hands grasped her thighs spreading them apart. He lowered his head kissing and sucking the inside of her thighs, “I want to taste you Ellie.” the vibration of his voice sending a pleasant jolt to her core. “Yes.” A low growl escaped him as he settled between her legs.

He flattened his tongue swiping it between her slick folds. He let let out an appreciative moan as his tongue swirled around the bundle of nerves. She sucked in a sharp breath as her head flew back against the cushion. he looked up between his lashes watching her chest rise and fall, faster and faster as her moans became louder and louder.  He slipped a two fingers into her wanting center, slowly pumping them in and out. Her back arching at the welcomed intrusion. Her legs began to shake, he knew she was close, he curled his fingers slightly reaching the perfect spot as she came undone, a slew of curses falling from her lips.

Satisfied he pulled back and grinned at her as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He sat up.  Ellie watching him, though lust blown eyes. She climbed onto his lap, her lips crashing against his in a heated kiss. “I want you colt.” she moaned against his lips. “Mmmm,  lay down Ellie.” she shook her head. “No. I want to be the driver.” she grinded her hips against him. He gripped his stiff length, slowly pumping it as she slowly lowered herself down, gasping out at how he filled her.

She allowed herself to adjust a moment before rocking against him. He threw his head back at the sensation, a deep moan escaping him. He lifted his head,  his lust blown eyes boring into her. “You're my driver forever, remember that. Now drive baby.” He gripped her hips guiding her down onto him faster and faster. She bounced hard against him  as she moaned out. “Fuck, yes. colt.”

The sound of his name falling from her lips drove him wild, he bucked frantically against her. his hand slipping down rubbing tight circles against her aching clit. That was all it took for her to come completely undone. She leaned against his chest, nails digging into his strong shoulders as she screamed his name, forcing his own release.

She laid against his chest for a moment, he tracked lazy circles against her bare skin.  “We should probably get dressed.” she sighed standing up. “A sin if i ever heard one, but you're probably right.” they retrieved their clothes, dressing quickly. Colt pulled her against him “You're incredible Ellie.” She his face down, capturing his lips in a sensual kiss. “Let's go get some food. I'm starving.” Colt grabbed his jacket “Only if I get to drive.” She winked, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

“What the fuck is this?” They heard, pulling apart  quickly. Both turning to see Logan standing there. “Do you have a problem pretty boy?” Colt taunted.

“Yeah. I do.  You're fucking making out with my girl.” Logan snapped, shoving Colt.

Colt coming back bumping his chest. “Last I checked she wasn't anyone's girl.”

“Colt! Logan! Stop this.” Her pleas going unanswered.  Colts smug grin setting Logan off as his fist connected with his jaw. Colt lunged forward tackling logan to the ground as the two rolled around exchanging blows.

“Stop it. Stop it guys. Help.” Ellie screamed, finally toby and ximena came running in, followed by Kaneko. “Stop it at once.” He commanded, his booming voice causing both to freeze instantly. Ellie took off running both scrambling to run after her. She climbed up the ladder onto the roof. How did things get so complicated.

********

“Ellie? Ellie?” Logan called out, pulling her back to the present. “Sorry, I was just thinking about something.” she told him about the night of prom, how they were freaked out about the plan and if things went south. How they travelled to vegas on a whim and getting caught up in all the what ifs, they married. She had thought Colt had filed for an annulment after they had a blow up and he left. Only to find out he never did. Logan sat there in silence,  absorbing all of the information.

“Well, I kinda get why you didn't say anything, but. I wish I didn't hear it from Colt.” he sighed.

“I know, im sorry Logan. But as a peace offering, my dad and I are throwing a 4th of July bbq. If you don't have plans we would love for you to come.” Logan smiled as they stood up walking towards the door. “I think I can manage that.” he pulled her in for a hug, she rested her head against his chest, breathing in his scent. “Are we good?” he pulled gently stroked her hair, “were good.”

That Friday the three of them, with Luca walked into the lab. Ellie check in, grabbing clipboards for all to fill out their information. Luca sat in the chair, the smell of the sterile environment making her nervous. “You ok Luca?” Logan lowered his head “I don't like Doctors offices, they give needles.” Her voice a whisper.  “Its ok, you're not going to get a needle.” he gently squeezed her little hand. “You promise?” “I promise. If you want, I will hold your hand if you get scared, ok?” Luca nodded her head, squeezing logans hand.

They waited a few minutes before being ushered into the back. Colt went first, followed by Luca. She hesitated getting in the seat. “Uncle Logie, fan you hold my hand?” Logan smiled at her taking her tiny hand in his large one. She paused a moment turning to Colt. “Colt, can you hold me please?” Ellie swore she felt her heart explode in that moment, as colt sat down in the seat, his arms wrapped around her, Luca leaned back against him while Logan held onto her hand.

The tech informed them the results could take up to 6 weeks as the lab was backed up.

The four of them grabbed dinner and went school shopping with Luca. Colt and Logan refusing to let Ellie pay for a thing.

Ellie spent the next week preparing for the 4th of July cookout. Everyone was coming, she was excited for Luca to meet the old crew. Riya and Darius showed up first. Darius setting up the pack n play in the backyard for Marcus. Frank had been on the grill all morning while Ellie worked on the food inside.  The doorbell rang and Frank came barreling through the house. “I got it. I got it.”

He answered the door and a petite brunette stood there. Frank encouraged the woman inside, walking up to Ellie. Ellie looked at the woman, something about her looked awful familiar. “Ellie, I want you to meet my girlfriend Sally. Sally this is my daughter Ellie.”

“Elliez it is so good to finally meet you.  You're dad talks about you so much.” Ellie giggled “I hope not to much.  It's really nice to meet you Sally.” she continued to stare at the woman, swearing she knew her from somewhere.  “Sally, I don't mean to stare but, Have we met before? I swear you look so familiar.”

“I don't think so hun, not unless you've been to lucky's diner in San Francisco.” Ellie shook her head “Nope, can't say I have. But anyway, come on out. Dads finishing up on the grill, the rest of the guest will be here soon.”

The doorbell rang and in walked Ximena, Toby and Colt. “Colt!” Luca came running into his arms, colt picking her up giving her a hug “Hey squirt.” he sat her down “Grampy got me a pool, come see it.” She grabbed his hand leading him through the house.  “Hey Toby, Hey X.” she noticed toby shifting on both feet. “Go ahead, you can see the pool too.” “thanks ellie.” Ximena shook her head handing her a tray of pretzel salad. “You know he has done nothing but talk about Luca non stop.”

“He has text me and called daily as well.” Ellie watched Luca splash colt, a smile playing on her lips. “How's logan been with it?”

“The same as Colt. She's quite taken with the both of them.” Ximena gave her an understanding squeeze. Logan, Mona and Stacie were the last to arrive. Ellie looked at the two “Did you guys come together?” Logan shook his head. “No, I pulled up and Mona did too, Stacie was walking to the door.”

Logan and colt stayed inside helping frank gather all the food. Ellie sat With Riya on one of the picnic tables. She leaned in close, dropping her voice so only she could hear. “Hey, do you think Darnell could lend me his services, cheap?” Riya looked at her confused “ohh you mean for the custody stuff. I was wondering what you needed a lawyer for.”

“No, I need to file for divorce.” Riya chuckled thinking she was joking,  the serious look on her face told her otherwise. “You're serious? When did you get married? Who did you marry?”

Ellie shushed her “Keep it down. 6 years ago. Colt and i got married in Vegas.” Riyas eyes went wide.

“You Married COLT in vegas?” She shouted, silencing the entire party. “What?” Her dad stood on the deck dropping an entire tin pan of coleslaw. Logan and Colt stood frozen behind him.

Sally came running up “Frank are you ok?” Logans eyes widened, he dropped the tin pan of baked beans onto the deck as well

“Mom?”

Tag: @kennaxval @hopefulmoonobject @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld @indiacater @blackcatkita @darley1101

ROD

@daniv2278 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @going-down-downtown @mercyparkcrew @emichelle @annekebbphotography @powdesiree0816 @walkerismychoice @yesivefallenpreytothechoicestrap @zaira-oh-zaira @sweetest-marbear @zaffrenotes @simsvetements @zaffrenotes @professorortegasstudent @akrenich @ifyouseekheart @client-327 @choicelogansbitch @choicesarehard @paisleylovergirl @itskismetbb @itsmarleen @rhischoicesfanfics @distinguishedsaladoperawinner @iplaydrake @coffeebeandragon @jasidu2

[dust1feather]

This is basically my declaration of love for Sterek, the best ever OTP, and for the amazingly talented Sterek fandom which has given me so much joy and happiness throughout the years. Here's hoping the years post-canon will be even better and brighter. #eternalsterek

Big thanks to @halekingsourwolf for the beta! (Also on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12178566 )

For Sterek

You meet for the first time on private property – 147 pounds of pale skin, fragile bones and sarcasm, and a majestic wolf with bunny teeth in a too big leather jacket.

Derek Hale: you're the king on Stiles' chessboard, his anchor, the prettiest alpha with the flower crown and Stiles your flower queen. You're the alpha of Stiles' heart.

Stiles Stilinski: you're Derek's anchor, his second in command, the emissary in training, the most loyal member of his pack. You're Derek's mate.

Mieczysław and cousin Miguel. You meet each other in a thousand different ways, in a thousand lifetimes. You impress each other with your Polish roots and fluent Spanish skills. Together you suffer through endless family dinners and visits to Grandma's only to be interrogated about your intentions. You'll have your informal occasions, too: relaxed get togethers and movie nights and bbqs in the backyard, letting the pack and your respective families mingle. You're no strangers to loss but the tragedies of the past make you appreciate your self-made families all the more.

Perhaps you're orphans and make your own families. Or you meet as kids and become instantly inseparable. Or you meet in school but have a hard time fighting through your different social cliques to reach out and make your special brand of jock and nerd work, connecting through mutual love for pop culture or music or literature. University fraternities may try but they can't keep you apart forever.

Sometimes you meet later in life, when you already have kids, but all that friendly neighbourhood DILF will charm your pants off. Often enough you get to have your kids together, carry your own pups and join your beautiful everything (Herald being the infamous exception, of course).

You communicate via notebooks full of scribbles in sparkly pens, you text and sext and skype and type and call using few words or none. The anonymous postcards are instantly recognizable and always welcome. And when you're not using words, you know to interpret each other's eyebrows and the eyerolls. Your love translates without sound or sight, with a simple sign or touch.

You're studying for your exams, learning anatomy bone by bone while lying in bed. You connect the multitude of moles, admire all those brilliant tattoos covering each other's bodies, magical and ordinary alike. You make having gray hairs okay because getting them means growing old together.

But first you're still young and you meet in the forest, lay on a rock and share a smoke. It's a club –  it's always a club – dark, loud and full of people invading your space. You leave the wolfsbane laced drink and craft beer behind and move to the dancefloor where your sweaty bodies gyrate together, following the beat of the music while you learn each others' curves and angles by heart. Later you're in no hurry, you're vegging indoors, tangled on the sheets, kissing and watching the smoke twist and curl up, up, and up in lazy patterns. Taking turns shotgunning your spirits and dreams from lips to lips. You lose your virginities together... maybe you lose it to save your life, to avoid becoming the next sacrifice, but it always, always means something. Because you're soulmates, your innermost thoughts and desires appearing on your skin, helping you to find your missing piece, connecting you two old souls time and again.

Then the wildest dreams of your high school band come true and you love and play and break up and make up while touring and conquering whole continents. You give and take dance lessons, to seduce and be seduced; you clash your classic and street style backgrounds, a strict follower of rules and the other forever bending them, creating something altogether new just for the two of you. You paint each other like one of the French girls; you do portraits, make sculpture and pottery and nude drawings, sometimes in secret and sometimes in plain sight. You participate in the theater club, and the whole audience will get to witness your first kiss.

You travel the world with your magical circus; you are firemen, enjoying their pies. You meet as police officers and delinquents, as actual superheroes or vigilantes. You're PIs or FBIs. You're cowboys on a ranch, vagabonds, florists and tattooists, doctors and patients, bakers, chefs, sportsmen, football players representing rival teams. You're hot mechanics getting down and dirty under the hoods and jeeps. You're thieves, magicians, horse trainers, students and teachers and professors. You own a bookshop, magic shop; you work in a library, you're a TA. You drive a tow truck and you have a thing for your dispatcher who is calculating the shortest distance from you to him. You're a rentboy surviving on a stranger's kindness; you're a rich sugardaddy who starts with all the material goodness and ends up giving his heart and soul. It's omegaverse and neither of you believes in the society's unyielding hierarchy, yet there you both are, reluctantly taking part in the annual heat run.

The UST between you two is legendary and it burns hotter than a thousand suns. And when you finally snap, you do it against the wall, in and on the Camaro, in every single room and on every available piece of furniture to christen your new apartment. You do it on a motorcycle in space despite the raving zombies all around. You do it in captivity, not minding Derek's beta form in the least. You do it in secluded cabins in the woods, surrounded by snow, far from the rest of the civilization. Knotting is your thing. And despite what anyone might think, your BDSM and private club performances and role plays are fifty shades of okay.

And when it comes to porn, you're naturals. Made for recording videos online, letting the camera love your angles. It really is all about Neckz'n Throats. And in a real studio, you're famous stars colliding but doing it like professionals all the same. You have a good time, many many times, several times in a row, in several different positions, and yet it's the undeniable power of human love which penetrates you the deepest.

Everyone else sees what you have before you do. The witches teach you a lesson. You have to narrate your own life or you can only talk by singing or you are forced to speak your mind or you can only speak the truth or hear each other's thoughts or you are physically bound together until you learn better. And even if magically stolen away, your love will grow back organically, like the plants in the strong earth of the garden because there is no stopping such a force of nature.

You're involved in politics: the first son and his long suffering but lifesaving bodyguard. You're celebrities, you're famous models and authors, actors and larger than life movie stars returning home and given another chance at making things right. You're bloggers and vidders. You're food critics. You own restaurants and bars and work in diners and cafes and make coffees as black as your soul with a lot of sugar and extra cream.

You're royalty throughout the ages. In modern day, you hide from paparazzi and try to reign in your desire in the face of social expectations and pressure from the media. In ancient times, you struggle with archaic laws and wars, fighting for your countries and sending your most trusted knight or assassin to turn the course of war for you, to win the war for you and it's the biggest sacrifice every time. Or you're heirs or less important sons needed to seal the alliance of your kingdoms, to be wed to maintain the peace and strengthen the union of your countries. You've only ever seen a portrait of your intended, a horrible troll of a creature, and you can't believe your eyes when your fiancé turns out to be love at first sight. Or it's regency and you hesitate with even the slightest touch; you barely dare to dream of holding hands and yet a single look across the room makes everyone else disappear, leaving just the two of you with your unparallelled chemistry.

Stiles, you're Squirrelinski, a fennec fox, you are the fox to Derek's wolf. When you're given the bite, you become the most natural beta ever, challenging Derek's alpha at every turn but matching him step by step. Derek, your seedwolf makes the most adorable minifriend Stiles has ever had. And then there are sheepgoats and bunnywolves, androids being built and mermen coming ashore. There are demon creatures summoned and adopted. There's more than enough to handle in one set of you but sometimes it's either the Stilinski twins or a Derek's doppelganger and the only available option is to groupsex it away.

You're possessed by demons and chased by hunters. Even death can't keep you apart. You make a perfect werewolf-vampire couple or haunt each other as ghosts, or go to purgatory and back to fix it, to prove everyone you're not done yet and that you never will be. You're driven together by a curse, magic or fairies make you do it. It's fate or chance or accident. But that's only the beginning. It's what happens after, when you learn from each other, show respect and understanding, trust each other, and inevitably and irrevocably fall in love. Every single time.

And even when the whole world is on fire, you serve through the World Wars to see each other again. It's the apocalypse and the zombies are roaming the earth, they have spread all over the galaxy and you're fighting for your survival, still not letting each other go. Werewolves are known, there's slavery, you're kidnapped and held in captivity. You join forces, start a revolution and fight against the oppressors. You are each other's lifeline, you pull each other through it all and end up saving your city, your nation, your world, the universe while re-discovering your humanity with your love. And when you return to civilian life the war has left its mark on you, as the veteran with PTSD, you have your scars and battle wounds but sometimes the invisible scars can only be seen without sight and you manage to mend them together.

Your love transcends time. You travel back and forth through different timelines, you cross multiple universes just to be together. You chase after hurricanes and want to start all over. You take a gap year, you go on a roadtrip to see the world but the further you drive, the closer the two of you get and all that breathtaking scenery pales in comparison with your self-discoveries and budding love.  

So, just so you know, Derek, Stiles is not afraid of you and he hasn't been for a long, long time. There's no need for ripping any throats out with teeth. Though it's still Stiles' house and Stiles' rules, buddy, whenever he's harbouring your fugitive ass. And Stiles, if one of these days you get lucky, Derek will show you that big ol' fist and you can be sure it's not the only big thing the big bad wolf has in store for you. But, most importantly, you trust each other now and you still need each other to survive, still keep each other alive and won't ever let go.

You're drift compatible, you fit together in every possible universe with every version of yourselves. You're Diego and Sid, the abominable snowman and sourwolf, you're big bad wolf and not so little red with the trusted baseball bat or the lacrosse stick. You two make a pretty good pair.

You belong to fandom. You belong to no one. You belong to each other.

Stiles and Derek. Derek and Stiles. Your love is eternal.

Canon is closed. You're finally free.

Long live Sterek.  

[lovemesomesurveys]

the good ol’ days...

When you were a kid…

Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming? Yeah, my babysitters were my aunt or my older brother, both of which were fun. My aunt liked to do fun activities, like arts and crafts, play games, and watch movies. My brother liked making silly home videos. Like, we’d have our own talk show and pretend to be the host and guests and all that. I had a keyboard and he used it to make the theme song for our show and when we’d go to commercial break, which consisted of actual commercials on the TV lmao. It was fun.

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? No.

Did you ever play hopscotch at school? No. That would be hard to do in a wheelchair. Did you refuse to eat your vegetables? I was very picky (still am).

What did you usually dress up as on Halloween? I was a witch and a vampire a lot.

What was your favorite television show? As a real little kid I was obsessed with Barney. As I got a little older I was into Arthur, NickJr, WB Kids, and Saturday morning cartoons that came on ABC (stuff like Recess and Pepperann).  Did you have D.E.A.R. time in school? (Drop Everything and Read) I remember silent reading and accelerated reading... I don’t remember having something like that specifically, but it’s possible. Or at least something like it. Did you ever read the ‘Magic Treehouse’ series? Yes. How about the 'Bailey School Kids’ series? Yep. Do you remember the first movie you ever saw in theaters? Not the first, but one that comes to mind is The Rugrats Movie.  Who was your best friend in elementary school? Angela was my best friend in some grades, but you know how kids are…once they vibe with someone else, they’ll hang out with them 24/7. Angela was a way more sociable kid so she got close with everyone, while I remained terrible at making friends. If she wasn’t my best friend at the time, I had no one. <<< Yeah, I definitely can relate to that. Friends changed all the time, one day you’re best friends with so and so and then the next you’re not and they’re playing with someone else. I had a few different best friends. It wasn’t until 5th grade that I made more permanent, real friends. Did they continue to be your best friend in middle school? Yes. I made a couple others as well. Did you ever watch 'The Land Before Time’ movies? Yes. Did you ever watch the show 'Arthur’? I loved Arthur. Did the tooth fairy give you a lot of money? It was a lot to me.  How often did you visit your nearest grandparents? I spent a lot of time at both sets of grandparents as a kid. My paternal grandparents moved out of state; though, when I was like 10, so we only saw them when they came to visit every summer for a couple months (they had an RV). My cousins and I were at my maternal grandparents’ house all the time. That was the family hangout spot. Did you ever play with 'Little People’ toys? Yes. How about Polly Pockets? Yes. Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Barbie dolls and clothes/accessories, Pokemon cards, stuffed animals, and rocks. My paternal grandparents did a lot of traveling and it became a thing between my Nana and I where she brought me back a rock from various places they went to. It started when she and I would go on walks together and I’d pick up pretty or cool looking rock. She’d write the place and date on it, so it’s pretty neat to look back on. Did you get an allowance? Yes. What was your favorite sport to play? What is it now? I never enjoyed sports. What foods did you not like then that you do like now? Spinach is one that comes to mind. I think it’s creamed spinach that I wasn’t a fan of (I don’t know if I’d like it now, haven’t tried it since then). I love regular spinach now with my scrambled eggs and sandwiches.  Were you into American Girl dolls? Nah. I loved played Barbies, but dolls like that weren’t my thing. What was your first pet and what did you name it? We had a dog named Buster when I was like 3 years old, so I don’t remember him much. However, we got a dog when I was 5 and I named him, Scruffy. He was with us until I was 18 years old.  Did you ever read the 'Junie B. Jones’ books? Yesss, I loved those. What did you want to be when you were a kid? A teacher. I loved playing school. What was your first word? Your first sentence? (If you remember) I’m not sure. Have you moved into a new house since you were a kid? We moved a few times when I was really little, but the house we moved into when I was about 5 we lived in until my early 20s. Were you friends with your neighbors? Yeah, I was really close to these 3 girls that lived next door. Did you enjoy exploring your backyard? I played out in the front yard more. Did you bake cookies with your grandparents? Yeah. What was your biggest fear when you were a kid? Bugs! That’s definitely still one of them. Who did you look up to most? My mom and grandma.  Did you ever play the 'Reader Rabbit’ computer games? Yes. Did you have a swing set in your backyard? I did. How about a sandbox? No. How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? I didn’t ride a bike. Did you ever spy on your neighbors through the window? No... Were you a teacher’s pet in kindergarten? Haha yeah. I kinda always was. Teachers loved me. Did you ever build a treehouse or a fort in your yard? No. My cousins and I built blanket forts in the house, though. Did you ever find anything interesting in your yard? *shrug* Possibly. Did you ever have 'themed birthdays’? Yes. Did your parents let you drink soda? Yes.  Did you ever watch 'The Powerpuff Girls’ or 'Dexter’s Laboratory’? Yep yep. Did you sleep with a blanket or stuffed animal? Well, yeah, I slept with a blanket lol. I had stuffed animals on my bed with me as well. Did you ever have a night light? Yeah. My TV was also like my nightlight. I still have to sleep with my TV on. I need to have some light and sound. Did you watch 'Winnie the Pooh’? Yesss, the movies and the animated series on the Disney Channel. I loved Winnie the Pooh. Still do. Not too long ago I watched a few episodes on Disney+. Did you ever have an imaginary friend? What was their name? No. The only thing I did was make up other people that were there whenever my cousins and I played school or house. We’d make up other friends and give them names, as well as describe what they looked like and what they were wearing.  What kinds of games did you play with your friends during Recess? I remember 4-square and tag. I couldn’t go on the playground, so I don’t really remember what else we did to be honest. I guess just hung out or I watched them play on the playground.  Did you dream of being a princess or did you not really care about that? Nah, that wasn’t really my thing. Did you have a special name for your pacifier? What was it? Not that I can recall. Did you watch 'Blues Clues’? Yeppp. What kind of car did your parents have? I can picture a few of them, but I don’t recall what kind they were, exactly.  Did you ever flush anything down the toilet by mistake? I don’t think so. Were you afraid to sleep by yourself? I had to sleep with the door closed, I remember that. I still do that. I think I was okay by myself cause I had a TV.  What was your favorite subject in elementary school? English. Or Language Arts as it was called. How often did you go to the park? Not that often. We had some family get togethers/BBQs at parks when I was younger. I could also go on the playground then cause I had someone to help me. What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? White cake with buttercream frosting. Yum. Did you ever want to grow up? Nooo. I wasn’t the kid who couldn’t wait to grow up, I very much enjoyed being a kid. Waaaah, take me back. D:

[bestnewsmag-blog]

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‘Beauty and the Beast’ Becomes Highest Grossing PG Film Ever in U.S.

“Beauty and the Beast” beckoned “Be our guest,” and audiences answered  Highest 

Disney’s stay-movement remake of the 1991 original earned sufficient, as of Sunday, to turn out to be the very best grossing PG-rated film of all time within the U.S. With $487.7 million at the domestic container office, the film passed “Finding Dory” ($486.3 million) to earn the name.

“Beauty” does not, however, preserve the crown while taking into account earnings overseas. That award is going to “Frozen,” that’s made $1.28 billion globally in 2013, as compared to the 2017 film’s contemporary overall, $1.19 billion. “Beauty” continues to be showing sturdy in theaters (it made the top five regionally this past weekend), so there may be a danger is should bypass its icy competitor. But both way, it’s a win for Disney.

RELATED Dan Stevens Legion FX Dan Stevens on ‘Beauty and the Beast’ Sequel Talk

In truth, the studio is chargeable for four of the pinnacle ten PG-rated films at the home container workplace — “Beauty,” “Dory,” “Frozen” ($four hundred.7 million) and 2016’s “The Jungle Book” ($364 million). The relaxation of the top ten is “Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace” ($474.Five million); the original 1977 “Star Wars” ($461 million); “Shrek 2” ($441.2 million); “E.T.” ($435.1 million); “The Secret Life of Pets” ($368.Four million); and “Despicable Me 2” ($368.1 million).

“Beauty and the Beast” is cutting-edge the eighth maximum grossing film inside the U.S. General and the 11th maximum inside the world. Emma Watson stars as Belle and Dan Stevens plays the beast. Bill Condon directed from a screenplay written by using Stephen Chbosky and Evan Spiliotopoulos. It opened in U.S. Theaters on March 17 and has waltzed past one field workplace file after every other ever due to the fact that.

5 Reasons To Hike To The Highest Point In All 50 States!

  Add the thrill of the 50 high point challenge to your bucket list of life long goals and you won’t be disappointed! Would you believe that America offers a vast array of thrilling high and low mountain adventures? Mt. Washington at only 6,288 feet, the highest point in New Hampshire, once held the highest recorded wind speed ever observed by man at 231 MPH! If you try to take on Washington’s Mt Rainer, you will be hiking on an active volcano just 150 miles from the infamous Mt. Saint Helens volcano. Other states highest “peaks” are literally in the middle of suburban neighborhoods, such as Delawares Ebright Azimuth standing tall at 448 feet! The 50 high point challenge offers both the thrill of a Himalayan expedition and the ease of a, “walk in the park” you never thought existed. Take some pride in our great country and explore these fun adventures in your own backyard. You will be surprised at how many states high points are located on famous trails such as the Appalachian, offer difficult mountaineering challenges, or take you off the beaten path to unique places away from the crowds. Here are the top 5 Reasons why you should climb to the highest point in all 50 states!

1. Another Excuse to Get Outside

Of course, the number one reason to start “high pointing” is to give all of us another excuse to get outside, find adventure, breath fresh mountain air and travel this great country from sea to shining sea. When you start “high pointing” you will scratch that outdoor itch every time. Not only will you get a great hike under your belt, but the outdoor adventures surrounding each high point range from kayaking, fishing, mountain biking, rock climbing, camping and the list goes on and on! Each high point offers different wildlife, such as the herd of Bighorn Sheep on New Mexico’s Wheeler Peak, or the wild Grayson Highlands Ponies on Virginia’s Mt. Rogers. National Parks and landmarks are also near highpoints, such as Carlsbad Caverns National Park just 90 miles away from Texas’s Guadalupe Peak or Mount Rushmore only 30 miles from South Dakota’s Harney Peak.

2. Offers Opportunities for Everyone

The second reason is to spend more time with family and friends on trips that you can enjoy with anyone! No matter what age, gender, or disability, “high pointing” can be enjoyed by everyone. Since there are 50 different high points to climb, the high points across this great nation range from a drive up parking lot with wheel chair access, such as Florida’s Britton Hill, to an intermediate family fun hike like New York’s Mt. Marcy, to an all out 14 day expedition with a glacier crossing on Alaska’s Mt Denali (the highest point in North America). Taking on the 50 high points gives you a unique opportunity to spend time and plan trips with an array of family, friends or fellow hikers regardless of their skill or love for the outdoors.

3. Conquering Challenges

Just visiting all 50 states is a challenge all to itself, but actually planning a trip to a certain location to accomplish a certain goal becomes a very hard sought challenge. Some hikes such as Illinois’s Charles Mound are on private land and access can only be granted a couple weekends during the year. Other points offer greater challenges, such as Wyoming’s Gannett Peak, which has the longest round trip of any of the high points of nearly 50 miles. Nothing is more rewarding than seeing a goal all the way through to fruition. Whether your goal is to take down the highest point in your home state, all the states in your region, or take on all 50 states, “highpoints” is a goal worth setting. This goal will be sure to keep you going for years to come. The real reward begins while sitting around with family and friends planning the next challenging high point to conquer.

4. Unique Cross Country Travel

Too often we get stuck in our comfort zones and end up only hiking, camping, or exploring in our own regions of the U.S. When we do end up planning a lavish trip, we end up backpacking across Europe or the Australian outback. Make your next big vacation a road trip to high point with more than just a hike, visit a place you never expected to visit, like hiking Louisiana’s Mt. Driskill. The high point is within minutes of where the infamous Bonnie and Clyde made they finally stand in a hail of bullets. Since you’re “high pointing” in the South you might as well eat some good BBQ. Stop in the town of Ruston, Louisiana just 20 miles east on I-20 just off Exit 84, and pick up the World Famous Scatterload sandwich from Brister’s Smokehouse for the best BBQ and sweet tea I’ve ever had. By adding the high points to your goals, you will end up traveling to all kinds of unique locations off the beaten path. Find new unique opportunities for photography, adventure, and places to eat that aren’t listed on yelp, or the cliche locations everyone visits!

5. The Views are Spectacular!

We all love to hike and camp, but nothing is better than adding a spectacular view to an adventure. There is something special that touches the souls of every man and woman when we can stand atop a mountain and gaze out as far as the eye can see! I never expected to stand atop so many “flat” states like North Dakota’s White Butte that stand tall in the Little Missouri National Grasslands, and be able to take in a 360-degree view. I encourage you not to underestimate any state on the map because every state will surprise you! From hundreds of waterfalls near Alabama’s Cheaha Mt to hundreds of high Sierra lakes surrounding California’s Mt. Whitney!

I hope this article inspires you to get outside more often and enjoy the challenge of the great outdoors with friends and family

The First Beast of Revelation 13 – Who Is It?

    Prophecies in Revelation are full of mysteries and wonders. They speak of beasts and angels and other things that clearly are not physical in nature and yet what is shown therein is the reality. We are in the last days and the promise is that at this time all things will be known including the identity of the two beasts described therein. The second of these bears the number 666 while the first roams the earth and is worshiped in all places.

My reincarnation brought me back with an urgency to undo the lies and overturn the work of evil and religious deception. Between lives, a vision showed that the work would commence at the age of 45 years. At that time the Spirit came upon me with such force it was impossible to move and it commissioned me.

“Tear down the wall of churches, go out to the people and bring back the young.” Were the words I heard in a loud clear voice. Three visions followed and the last was my face on a screen. The year was 1983 and a long time before computers became a household item or the Internet was invented and yet these are the screens on which my face now appears.

The first vision showed me an image of Jesus Christ preaching to a mob on a hillside. The second showed that I had replaced him. While it sounds far-fetched the Internet is the highest hill there is and since 1996 my work has been published on it to break down the wall.

The latter started with the first beast. The Spirit gave me the vision to explain who and what that is. In it, a group of people was gathered on a hill and before them was a prop holding aloft a large stone with a perforated center. Pointed towards the rising sun the rays penetrated the hole to form a magnificent star of perpetually moving rainbow-coloured rings. Central to them was the right-angled cross.

[boundlessshuffle]

WTF JOHNNY MAESTRO?!

The late Johnny Maestro was considered one of the more prominent and significant names in the New York City doo-wop and oldies scene.  The guy could belt it out, and he was widely regarded as a humble and down-to-earth fella, who saw no venue as being too small and no performance too meaningless (I saw him play at a local suburban middle school in the 1980s as part of a police athletic league fundraiser).

So I guess the fact that the above performance looks like it was at a Memorial Day BBQ in someone’s backyard in Bensonhurst shouldn’t be too much of an issue.  In actuality, the performance was at the Hebrew Home for the Aged in the Bronx (which is odd in itself).  But the real puzzling surprise here is Maestro’s decision to take the stage and open with Led Zeppelin’s Dazed and Confused to an audience consisting largely of people who probably weren’t exactly into Zeppelin and hard rock.  

Sure, he only sings a few bars of the song before seguing into his signature tune, the Jimmy Webb-penned The Worst That Could Happen, but this is an all-aroud weird-ass performance.  Perhaps Maestro, in his mid-sixties at the time of this ‘concert,’ just wanted to show people that he could still hit all the right notes.  I’ll give him this much- he sounds better here than Robert Plant does these days.  And that suit!