#its gotta be 13 or she just keeps releasing music forever

[anni-aughta]

i dont want taylor swift to stop making music but if she does she should stop at 13 albums so she can forever say she released 13 albums

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 15

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

The rain splattering against the window glass shook Hiccup out of his stupor. Lips still tingling where they had just so brushed against hers, he hurried through the apartment and onto the balcony where the wind was blowing enough rain under the roof that it hit most of his clothes. Resigned, he picked up the drying rack and maneuvered it into the living room. It wasn’t like any of the clothes had already dried, anyway. Besides, this had distracted him for at least two minutes from his brain’s attempt at understanding what had happened in the last hour.

A knot was forming in his stomach and it grew limbs, spreading into his chest, knocking against his ribs for attention. “Oh, bud. What a mess, huh.” Toothless looked up from his nap on the couch, blinking at Hiccup before laying his eyes on the newest accessory in the room. A few socks were still swinging slightly from earlier momentum and he swiped at them with his paw. Hiccup picked him up and flopped onto the couch himself, putting the cat down on his stomach where it immediately lay down and eyed him expectantly.

“This is not going to end well. We can’t pretend anymore that everything’s fine. And I can’t still wait for her to get more clarity and maybe eventually come around, can I?” Toothless started licking his paw. “Yeah, yeah. I know, bud.” He sighed. “No more waiting, no more guessing, no more holding out. She’s on her way home right now. She’ll want to save her marriage. And I can’t stand between her and a happy life now, right?” The cat didn’t answer, only the voice of a radio host crossed the distance between him and the kitchen. He ran his hand over the sleek black fur until the sound of purring provided the right background noise for his thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel and it doesn’t matter if she ever felt something for me-“, he allowed himself a moment of daydreaming, “because she has a husband, and yeah, they need to work through some issues, but if she wants to do that, then I want to support her decision. I don’t want to, but then again, I do. Toothless, does that make sense?” The cat’s ears perked up at the sound of its name. Hiccup looked his bud in the eyes, searching for an answer to his dilemma. “I guess, if you love somebody, you want them to be happy, even if it means you leave empty-handed and with a life’s worth of heartache.”

For a while, he watched the gray sky through the living room windows, stroking his cat’s back. The radio host was replaced by ads, then music, briefly interrupted by a traffic report. Some confused Toyota driver was going the wrong way. Or maybe they were going the right way, they just picked the wrong lane. Or the wrong way on the right lane. Did that make sense? What was the right way to go here? Was he doing the right thing? Was there even a right lane to pick?

He groaned and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. The purring stopped. Soon enough, the weight on his stomach disappeared when Toothless decided he’d had enough of Hiccup’s drama. “You’re right, bud. Can’t keep doing this forever.” He lifted himself up with a heavy heart trying to pull him back down. But there was no use.

On his way out, he grabbed only his phone and an umbrella. The air had cooled significantly, raising goosebumps on his skin. Maybe he should have brought a jacket. He considered going back inside to get one, but the option of staying there and waiting for the world to fix itself was too tempting, so he turned around and started walking down the street. He had to end this.

_______________

She had to end this. The entire ride home, she drummed her fingers on the wheel, bounced her unoccupied leg up and down, shifted on her seat with restless energy at every traffic light, every intersection, every speed limit sign. She was both anxious and determined. There had never been a point in her life where she’d been more sure about anything. Least of all on her actual wedding day, as she could finally admit with a feeling of sweet relief.

When she turned her key in the door to the apartment, however, her hands felt like lead. While she’d come clean about her feelings to herself, she had yet to do it in front of someone else, someone who deserved to know it probably the most. Someone whose voice carried over from the living room.

Quietly closing the door behind her, she took off shoes and still damp jacket like she’d done for almost every day for the past year and a half. Her keys jingled and she closed her fist around them in order to smother the sound. Why she didn’t want him to know she was here was beyond her, but the second she decided on announcing her presence, someone else beat her to the chase.

Momentarily perplexed, she halted in her step towards the living room, trying to place the male voice chattering away, prompting a chuckle from Eret. Her curiosity whacked her anxiety over the head and she turned the corner to see who it was.

The man sitting next to Eret on the couch was unfamiliar to her. Tall, broad shoulders, muscles, casually-styled sandy hair. Crossed legs, one arm draped over the back of the couch, the other holding a beer, comfortable. He was the first to notice her, pausing mid-sentence to curiously raise his eyebrows in her direction. His eyes were the color of liquid chocolate, at least 70% cocoa. He was handsome, with a pleasant, welcoming smile. Eret followed his eyes and flinched.

Astrid raised a hand in greeting, uncertain about what to do. This other person in the apartment disrupted her plan. “Hi.”

“Hi, there.” The man waved back, looking at Eret expectantly, waiting for an introduction.

Eret cleared his throat, a nervous tilt in his smile. “Um, this is Astrid, my wife. Astrid… This is Timothy.” She racked her brain when that name rung a bell somewhere in the back of her mind, especially as he sent her a meaningful look. “My coworker. The one I told you about.”

“Oh,” she said. Then something clicked. “Oh.” The coworker he’d told her about. Repeatedly. The one she’d mistook for his mistress. Well, fuck, kill her now.

“Nice to meet you, hon.” When she frowned at that nickname, he was quick to put his hands up in an apologetic manner. “Sorry, that probably came out wrong. It’s just what I call everyone.” He slapped a hand on Eret’s knee. “Even this chap here.”

Eret copied the gesture. “And our boss.” The two men shared a laugh and Astrid’s eyes flitted back and forth between them, feeling like an outsider to a deeper inside joke. Their laughter subsided and they seemed to remember she was still in the room. “Do you… want to sit?” Eret asked hesitantly, conveying the same uneasiness she felt. She simply cut to the chase.

“We need to talk.”

Fortunately, Timothy understood his cue. “Well, hons,” he announced, drinking the rest of his beer and standing up from the couch, “I guess it’s time for me to hit the road. Gotta beat that Sunday traffic.” He laughed at his own joke when no one else did, not even his hon chap Eret, whose mood had suddenly turned serious.

They said goodbye to Timothy and when the door closed behind him, Eret discarded of the empty beer bottles and they sat in silence on separate ends of the couch for a few minutes. Astrid tried to sort through everything they needed to cover in this conversation, but she didn’t know where to begin, although it was all in a way connected. But what probably made her anxious the most was how to go on from there. She didn’t want to end this day with another fight, didn’t want to lose her closest friend in the aftermath of this whole mess. No more yelling and accusing, that’s what Hiccup had advised.

“So… Timothy, huh,” she made the first step, stilted lighthearted tone sounding absolutely misplaced to her ears.

But Eret gladly jumped onto the first wooden plank. In order to get to the other side of this chasm, they would have to build the bridge together. “Yeah. Tim is…”

“Your coworker,” she finished. “And not your mistress.” She didn’t avert her eyes as she said it, owning up to her mistake.

“Not my… No. But what I told you about Dana is true. She tried to seduce me. Several times, actually, even though I told her I’m married and not interested.” The old monster scratched at her abdomen, but she refused to pay attention to it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked instead, keeping her voice as level as possible, and received the same effort from Eret.

“I tried to, but you wouldn’t hear me out! Besides, I could handle her. It didn’t mean anything to me. And with the way you accused me of cheating, I was glad I hadn’t told you earlier.”

She felt the words like a punch to the gut. “Well, if you had told me earlier, then maybe I wouldn’t have gotten so suspicious when you kept talking about your coworker every other minute of the day like a teenager gushing about his crush!” He winced and averted his face. She’d somehow struck a nerve there, which made her guilt explode from where it was nesting inside her ribcage. Throwing her hands up in the air, she jumped up and released it all with one loud yell. “GAH, I’M SORRY!”

He still wouldn’t look at her. “Okay.”

“What do you mean – okay?!” She started pacing through the room. “I’m hurt you didn’t share the fact with me that someone came onto you several times – which is harassment, by the way – and then I rubbed it in by accusing you of committing to it! I’m fucking sorry, Eret!” She kicked at the couch and a flash of pain shot through her toes. Well, so much for no yelling.

“Yeah.” The couch table was still more interesting than her. “That’s why Tim was here. We were discussing how to report Dana without her claiming harassment and sexism herself.”

Astrid put her hands on her hips, taking stance. “Just say the word and I’m gonna knock her fucking skull in.”

He huffed. “I can handle it.”

“You can han– Eret, I’m not some bozo offering you tips on selling your car! I know I should have let you speak yesterday when you called and I’m sorry I didn’t. I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been running from confrontations for quite a while. And will you please just look at me?!”

Jaw clenched, he finally met her gaze, and for the second time that day, she was met with a look in someone’s eyes she wasn’t expecting. She’d prepared herself for fury, for a stubborn wall of fire, for a loaded canon – but not for hurt, guilt, insecurity. Her anger deflated.

“I know.” He was almost whispering. “I should know. I should know that I can always count on you.”

“You should know?” The implication wasn’t lost on her and it stung like a hundred bees. “Why do you think you can’t count on me?”

“I… I didn’t mean that. I know you’d do anything. It’s just that…” He got on his feet, pulling at his short ponytail, voice rising. “Every time you become distant, and we fight, and you go on your solo trips, it’s like there’s a whole world out there for you that I’m not a part of. Over time, that feeling festers, and it makes me wonder.” He paused, piercing her with a look that demanded only the truth. “There’s someone else, isn’t there.” She blinked, sucker-punched to the lungs, staring back at him, shock evident on her face, judging by his grave nod. “So there is.”

“I…” This was not how she’d imagined this topic to be broached. Her first instinct was to tell him that nothing happened, but as of this afternoon, that would be a lie. “It’s complicated.”

Eret shook his head disappointingly, a gesture that irked her a lot. “Accusing me of cheating and then…”

“I didn’t cheat on you!” He regarded her with poisonous doubt, frown deepening. No more running. “Yes, I have feelings for someone else! But it’s not like I planned so, and it’s not like I didn’t try to fight it, and I certainly didn’t do it on purpose!”

“But still you didn’t talk about it with your husband!”

“Like that’s something you do!” The guilt, the frustration, it all came together in a giant wave, pressing every emotion out of her chest with the volume of a tsunami. “Like you just go to your spouse, the one you promised to love until death, the one you made a fucking huge commitment to for the rest of your life, you just go up to them and say hey, guess what, I’m in love with someone else, what do you think of that, do you want potatoes or rice for dinner?!” She sucked air into her lungs with a sharp, shaky breath, not slowing down, even as her eyes began to sting. “This is not something you do, it’s not something you fucking do, just like that, expecting not to make everything worse, and admitting that the biggest decision I ever made in my entire life led to a big! Fucking! Failure!”

A hot tear ran down her cheek and when she wiped it away, more followed, until she was quietly sobbing, shoulders shaking as she refused to break down completely. She felt raw and exposed, exhausted after her emotional outburst. Eret said nothing for a long minute. Then he sunk back onto the couch and put his head in his hands, fingers raking through his dark hair, messing it up until most of it had escaped the ponytail.

“I need a drink,” she mumbled and walked into the kitchen. Eyeing the bottle of wine on the shelf, she opted for some peppermint tea. Calming, refreshing, and didn’t have to cool in the fridge first. Waiting for the kettle to boil, she took a deep breath. Slowly, the shaking subsided and the tears stopped running. She wiped her hand over her swollen eyes and blew her nose on a paper towel.

When the water boiled, she grabbed her favorite mug from the cupboard and fished the last tea bag from the box. She let it steep for a few minutes, regaining her composure, before she returned to the living room. Leaning against the bookcase opposite to the couch, mindful of the stack of beautifully illustrated books behind her, she carefully took a sip, relishing the feeling of hot tea calming her nerves. Eret was still hunched over, head in his hands.

“I was gushing about my crush,” he finally said, voice low and brittle, laden with the effort of finding the courage to get the words out.

She sniffed, unsure if she’d heard him right. “What?”

“I… have feelings for someone else, too.”

It took her embarrassingly long to connect the dots. “Huh.” She sat down next to him, processing the information. In a strange way, it made sense. She couldn’t explain it, but it just felt… It felt like Eret. And it also explained all the knee touching from earlier. “Oh man,” she sighed. “We’re a mess, huh.”

He tentatively glanced up at her. She noticed the little pools of tears that had formed in his eyes and she realized he’d been as afraid to tell her about his feelings as she’d been, probably even more so. Eret had always been so sure about himself and his place in the world, something that had attracted her to him in the first place. Discovering this new side of himself, the confusion, the fear of people’s reaction, her reaction – she couldn’t exactly say she could relate. Meeting his worried expression, she gave him a reassuring smile and reached for his hand. His sigh of relief cut straight through her heart, and when he accepted her hand and returned her light squeeze, it felt like companionship.

“So… Timothy, huh,” she repeated her earlier line, eliciting a small shaky laugh from Eret. He sat up and leaned back against the cushions, wiping a hand over his face.

“Yeah… He’s great.” He turned to her with an earnest face. “I’m sorry. You’re right, this is a mess.”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something for once.”

For a while, they just sat there holding hands in companiable silence, feeling closer than they had in a very long time, the only sound an occasional slurping of tea.

“I know I should have asked this sooner,” she finally said, “but do you want to talk about it?”

He seemed to be wrestling with himself for a moment and she tried her best to not feel offended by his hesitation. She wasn’t any better, after all. “I don’t really know what to say. One day I’m a heterosexual fella going to bed with his wife, the next I’m thinking about all the different ways I wanted to touch my new coworker. The rest just spiraled from there.”

“When did that happen?”

“About a year ago,” he confessed, carefully regarding her reaction.

“Okay, so, do you know if Timothy’s into men?”

“Uh yes, very openly so, he carries his cute little rainbow flag everywhere and constantly complains to me about the horrible guys he’s dated.”

“Good, that’s good.” He curiously raised his eyebrows at the scheming look on her face. “Have you talked to him about your sexuality?”

“No, I haven’t told anyone, and how are you so okay with this?”

Now she really did feel offended, putting the empty mug on the couch table with a clank. “Excuse me? My best friend tells me he likes dicks and he asks me if I’m okay with it?!”

“Your best friend is also your husband. And that’s not what I meant. You’re weirdly calm about the fact that I’ve been emotionally cheating on you for months on end.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, did you not hear me yelling about my feelings for another man back there? You know, right before I burst into tears? We’re in the same boat here, buddy.”

He snorted. “I don’t know if I like this sarcasm on you.”

“It may have rubbed off on me from someone else,” she admitted.

“Right. Your someone else.”

“Hmm…” She bit her lip. “I really am sorry. I thought about telling you, but I never did, because I had this stupid notion in my head that telling you would mean I failed at something. Namely, making the right decision when I married you.”

“That… No, that makes sense. Sounds like Astrid to me.”

“But was I right?” she asked uncertainly. “Does this mean I failed?”

“Well… You said earlier – or better, you yelled – that your decision led to big failure. Do you really think that’s what this is? A big, fucking, failed marriage?”

Now that she heard him say it, she didn’t need to contemplate much. “Yes and no? I don’t regret marrying you. I love you, but not the way I used to. You’re my closest friend and incredibly important to me, and I will always treasure our time together, past and present. But… That is all I can give you.”

An enormous weight disappeared from her chest when she said it out loud and when Eret nodded and agreed, “I feel the same… I think.” He scratched his head. “No, I’m sure that’s what it is. And I’m also one hundred percent sure I was very into you, which makes me at least bisexual, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Sexuality can be fluid, right? So who knows what nuance of sexuality you are and what you’ll be next week. Anyway, I wouldn’t be mad at you if you decided you’ve always been gay. Would it feel weird to hear you tell me you never actually loved me? Probably. Would I get hung up on it, knowing you cared about me deeply in a platonic way? Fucking hell not.”

Eret grinned in a relieved and almost proud way. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Hofferson.”

“Me too.” She took a deep breath. “So, does that mean…”

“That this is over?” he completed her sentence and gestured between them, an understanding passing between them. “Yes, I would say so.”

Relief washed over her, combined with a bit of sadness, then peace, and not one flicker of doubt. She leaned into her best friend, her soon-to-be ex-husband, and hugged him tightly for a long minute.

When they pulled away, the shadows in the room had grown longer, announcing the imminent departure of the sun. Soon the horizon would light up colorfully, ending the day with a temporary, ever-changing painting that put every self-respecting lava lamp to shame. Realizing how late it already was, Astrid couldn’t believe how much time had passed since she’d had lunch with Hiccup, and how long she’d talked with Eret.

“Full disclosure, though,” she said while getting up to switch on the light, “last week I took a pregnancy test and it was negative.” Eret blinked a couple times. “Turns out it had just been a mixture of too much emotional stress and chocolate cake that made me take it.”

“Chocolate cake,” he repeated a bit dumbfounded, following her as she carried her empty cup into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I tried to bake the perfect cake and the one I ate was way too sweet.”

“The one you– Did you eat an entire chocolate cake by yourself? While your favorite pool was closed?”

“Oh, I’m glad that’s the part you choose to focus on.”

He sat down at the kitchen table and absentmindedly mimed stroking an invisible beard, a habit he’d picked up when he’d grown an absolutely hideous goatee in college. “I don’t know, I’m still processing it. Were you… sad? Okay? I don’t know what to say here.”

“I was glad. You know I want kids one day, but not like this.”

He nodded. “Probably best. Not that I wouldn’t have been happy regardless – wait, was it even mine?”

“The baby that doesn’t exist?” she scowled at him. “Yes, of course it would have been yours, you muttonhead!”

Holding his hands up in surrender, he believed her. “Alright, alright. I don’t know, could have been your secret lover.” Her scowl deepened and he quickly continued. “But you’re right. It’s better this way.”

“Good, glad we agree. Now will you please stop with the non-existent beard? You look ridiculous.”

“Tim thinks it’s funny.”

That brought the scheming look back on her face. “Seems to me like he’s interested in you. Now that you’re single, you should ask him out.”

A nervous chuckle escaped him and he squirmed a little in his seat. “I don’t know. I just agreed on a divorce.”

“That’s not the problem. You’ve wanted to do it for a long time. You’re a chicken.”

“I’m just being considerate of you–“

“Bullshit. You’re a chicken.”

With a groan, he frowned at her. “You’re quite a handful sometimes, do you know that?”

“Chicken,” she sang, finding joy in pushing his buttons without another fight looming on the horizon. She’d missed her friend and she finally had him back.

“Okay, fine! I haven’t had to ask anyone out since you. I don’t know how to flirt anymore.”

She snorted. “Seriously?” Sitting down next to him, she draped one hand behind him over the chair, shuffled closer and placed the other on his knee, regarding him from beneath her eyelashes. “Are you sure about that, hon?” He jokingly pushed her away, tipping her chair a little. “I think you were doing just fine earlier. Just text him that you want to go out for beer and tell him what happened. Then you can pepper in that you want his dick and voilà, you got yourself a hot date.”

“Yeah, yeah. I think I’m just gonna start with the beer.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and began to type before he paused and looked at her in earnest. “I feel good about this. How about you?”

Something told her he wasn’t just talking about asking out his crush. “Yes, absolutely. This feels right.”

With a content nod, he continued typing and hesitated just a second before sending his message. “Phew, done.” Another thought seemed to come to his mind. “Err, by the way, you’re not my dictator.”

“Huh?”

“Yesterday on the phone, I called you a dictator. That’s not true.”

“Yeah, we both said pretty mean things in the past. Things we didn’t actually mean and are sorry for.” Hiccup would be proud of her. She’d stopped running from an important confrontation, she’d talked about her feelings, she’d let Eret speak without accusing him of stuff, and she’d only yelled a little. It felt good. She wanted to tell him. Where was her phone?

“Apology accepted and returned. Great, now that we settled that, you still haven’t told me about the other guy.” He cracked his knuckles, receiving an unimpressed look. “I want to know who will pay part of the divorce.”

She punched his biceps. “He’s not going to pay shit, you cocky bastard.”

Rubbing the now sore spot on his arm, he shrugged and earned himself an eyeroll. “Worth a try.”

Seemed like calling Hiccup had to wait a little. But after waiting for so long to tell him about her feelings for him, what were a few minutes more? It wasn’t like he was going anywhere.

“Okay… Um. Do you remember Dagur’s 30th birthday party?” she started.

Eret chuckled. “Eh, partially. It was a wild night.”

“But do you remember Hiccup?”

He searched his memory for a second. “Heather’s ex? The skinny guy with the jawline?”

“Yes. He was at the party.” Now came the part that was hard to tell the guy that she’d been engaged to back then. “I will not call it fate or destiny or anything at first sight. But… Do you remember when you claimed you could repair the oven by yourself and were almost electrocuted?”

Not sure where this was going, and with the remnants of a hurt ego in his posture, Eret nodded. “Yeah?”

“Well, meeting Hiccup was like that, but without the pain. I felt like I was the current. And the funniest thing is, the moment I saw him, the lightning storm started outside.”

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled. “I remember there being rain.”

Encouraged by his lack of judgement so far, she continued. “I didn’t understand my sudden attraction to him at first, I just knew that it was strong and it only grew stronger over time, even though I only met him a couple times after that. That one time when we were out doing wedding chores, remember?”

After a minute of contemplation, he nodded. “When you bought that book that he painted pictures for and were super excited about it.”

She rolled her eyes. “He didn’t paint pictures for it, he illustrated the cover. And it was absolutely gorgeous!”

“So, he did paint pictures for it.”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.”

He shrugged, not understanding what the big deal was. But he waved at her to continue.

“I thought it was just a phase and I didn’t want to bother you with it and dampen your mood. You were so happy and looking forward to our wedding and I didn’t want to ruin that by telling you something that would have been over just a few weeks later, anyway. Only that it wasn’t a phase. And the longer I waited, the worse it got.” Her fingers found a lose thread on the tablecloth and she absentmindedly started playing with it. “I was in denial about it. That was the only way for me to keep my sanity the closer we came to our wedding day. In the end, I decided to go through with the wedding because I didn’t want to just throw away everything we built together.”

“Did…” He gulped. “Did anything ever happen between you back then?”

She shook her head. “No. He came to the party, though. We talked outside for a while and I invited him in, as a friend. But he said we shouldn’t see each other anymore. Looking back, that was probably for the best, no matter how much it hurt, because the moment I saw him again a week ago, it all came back in an instant. Not that it was ever truly gone.”

A spark of understanding flashed up in Eret’s eyes. “Is that why you acted so weird from time to time? Distant, I mean?”

“Yeah, that was part of the reason. I just… I felt like something was missing from my life. That’s why I went on my solo trips. To try and find myself, I guess. It helped in the moment, but not in the long run.”

He looked bashful. “And I thought you were going on vacations with your lover.”

Astrid discovered that being on the other side of such an accusation didn’t hurt any differently than making the accusation herself. “I would never do that! I may have kept important feelings from you, but I would never cheat!”

“Me neither.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

She crossed her arms. “Yes! I only accused you of it because I wanted a reason to escape a relationship that didn’t make me happy anymore. I know I should have just talked to you earlier. We already settled that.”

“Okay.” He nudged her with his foot. “Go on.”

“Like I said, I ran into him last week. I thought I could just be friends with him and push my feelings away, but no.” A little nervous, she left the tablecloth be and twirled strands of hair between her fingers. “I was with him when you called. He showed me his favorite spot in the woods. And… Well, he advised me to talk to you about everything. But I hadn’t even admitted my feelings to myself, so anything beyond that seemed impossible. I lashed out at him as well.” The memory of their fight was still fresh on her mind. It had only happened a day ago, but it felt like weeks had passed since then.

“So, he doesn’t know how you feel.”

“Well… He might have an idea. He certainly knows there’s something between us; he addressed it during our fight yesterday. And… I kind of kissed him today. I didn’t plan on doing it, I just… did it. It wasn’t even a real kiss, our lips barely touched, but– I think it was obvious enough.” At this point, she had pulled out a considerable amount of hair with her fingers, tangling it into a ball. “Then I decided I could no longer go on like that and came here.” Eret was quiet for a while. “What do you say?”

“I say we should have talked way sooner. Would have saved us both a lot of pain. Did you talk to anyone else about this?”

“My mom, but that was still before the wedding. She definitely suspects something now as well, though. And I thought about telling Ruffnut, but she’d have just found a way to include your looks into her arguments and based her opinion on that.”

He chuckled. “Good call. That woman needs to get laid more.” She kicked his shin. “Ow! What was that for?”

“She doesn’t need to get laid like some horny rabbit! She’s just very shallow regarding looks sometimes.”

“Okay, sorry,” he apologized, rubbing his shin. That should be a nice bruise tomorrow. Good. “Does he like you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I think so.” A sudden memory flashed through her mind. “I think he even told me once! I ran into him shortly after he and Heather broke up and he said he liked someone else. He said he couldn’t ask her out because she was engaged. Looking back, what are the chances he wasn’t talking about me?” The more she pondered it, the more obvious it seemed. Excited butterflies were dancing through her stomach. No, really, was she remembering this right?

The short sound of a speeding race car came from Eret’s phone, three times in a row, and the little notification light lit up. Eret fumbled for the device. From the look on his face, she could guess who texted him back.

“And?” she asked impatiently.

“He’s in for a beer. Tomorrow after work.”

“Yes!” She held her hand up for a high-five, but Eret was too busy texting Timothy back.

“Now you,” he said when he put his phone down. “I can’t be the only one going on a date right after breaking up with my spouse.”

“Right.” Her heart started pounding as she got up to retrieve her phone from her jacket and leaned against the kitchen counter. She was going to do this. Now.

She had three missed calls. One from her mom, which she ignored. Because the other two were from Hiccup. Understandably, after she basically bolted from his kitchen earlier. There was a voicemail attached. With jet planes flying through her stomach, she pressed her phone to her ear, heart kicking harder against her ribs when she heard his voice.

As she listened to his message, one plane after the other crashed from the sky in a fiery explosion.

Eret looked at her in concern. “Everything alright?”

Her pulse was deafening in her ears, blood rushing through her veins, trying to make her heart beat again. “Fuck.”

[ravenbrenna09]

Jij Verliest - Chapter One: Clip #2

master list teaser clip one

Zaterdag 12:41

In the afternoon sun, Robbe could feel his clothes sticking to him. Even with his gray t-shirt and a light pair of shorts, Robbe was sweating so much and he was in desperate need of a shower. The mid-afternoon sun was hot and ruthless, beating down on their shoulders and their heads as the day drew on. In addition, the dark pavement only increased the measures as their feet burned through the soles of their shoes. 

But, despite the summer heat beating down on their shoulders, suffocating them all, Robbe kicked the winning goal past a pair of skateboards standing near the other team’s backpacks and his friends cheered loudly in response. 

As soon as Robbe had arrived at the park with Lucas, his skateboard tucked under one arm, his three friends had cheered at the sight of him. His closest and oldest friend, Jens, had also promptly run over to them, planting a kiss on Lucas’s lips. But, shortly after, he ripped the skateboard from Robbe’s grasp and shoved it into Lucas’s hands. Then he dragged Robbe over to the concrete platform to Moyo and Aaron. Within seconds, Robbe was nominated as the final member of their football team while Lucas sat on the edge, shrouded in shade and cheering them on. Robbe had complained about being forcefully volunteered, but he actually welcomed the distraction. Thoughts of Thomas had once again started to edge into the front of his mind. 

But, as he scored the winning goal, Jens collided against him, picking him up easily and spinning him around. Moyo cheered, jumping up and down, while Aaron attempted to give him a high five as Jens was still spinning him. The other team came over to congratulate them on their victory for the mini-tournament. 

“Hey, Robbe!” Lucas called, waving his arm to get his attention. As Robbe forced himself from Jens’ hold, still slightly dizzy, he found his roommate lounging beneath the shade of a tree nearby. Robbe jogged over to him and Lucas tossed him his phone. There were numerous notifications from Twitch and a few from Instagram (none about Thomas, his mind registered), and a text from Yasmina about their Zoom study session tomorrow, but the thing that quickly drew his attention was the time. 

It was almost 13:00.

“Shit,” Robbe breathed out. 

“What is it?” Jens said, appearing at his shoulder. There was a look of concern on his best friend’s face as he glanced over at Robbe. With one hand, he pushed back his hair and reached toward Lucas, grasping his outstretched hand with the other. “Is everything okay?” he asked when Robbe took too long to respond as he typed out a text to Yasmina. 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied, shoving his phone in his pocket. He bent down to snatch his skateboard and his headphones from the grass beside Lucas. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair which was damp with sweat. “It’s just almost 13:00. And, since we’ve just spent about two hours playing football, I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

Jens nodded his head. “If you’re still on when I get home and clean up, I’ll join you.”

“Where are you going?” It was Moyo, stepping into the shade. 

“I haven’t even gotten to show you my trick yet,” Aaron spoke up.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Robbe said, sadness creeping into his voice. “But I’ve got to stream in an hour and I need to have a shower before I can even think of streaming or getting food.”

There was a part of him that wanted to cancel the stream, to hang out with his friends some more. It had been too long since it had been like this, since Robbe didn’t feel like there was something missing, but he swallowed the thought before it continued. And, he always did online matches every weekend with viewers. It was always a blast because they always had a fun time and he wanted to do that, too. Plus, Saturdays always tended to bring a higher viewership and, since it was technically his job, it was something that he needed to take seriously. 

“It’s okay,” Aaron said. “I get it.”

“Gotta hustle,” Moyo said with a grin. 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. “But, I’ll see your trick next time… if you can do it.” 

Aaron looked offended at the notion that he couldn’t perform the trick he’d worked so hard on and Moyo laughed, reaching over to give him a high-five before he stepped away. “Good luck, man.” Robbe smiled in thanks before moving away from them. 

The trip back to the flatshare was short. Even on the back of his skateboard with his music pounding in his ears, it only took him about ten minutes (and it only took ten minutes because the crosswalk light took forever to turn green). The promise of a cold shower to offset the flushed feeling in his skin was promising and he couldn’t wait. Once the apartment slid into view, Robbe hopped off his skateboard, picking it up with one hand and walking the rest of the way. As he walked up to the lobby door, it abruptly swung open and he leaped back before he could be struck with it. 

In its wake, Zoë stepped out, holding her purse open with one hand. She glanced up, possibly searching for something else, and instead found Robbe standing in front of her. Zoë beamed down at him as Robbe pulled his headphones off his ears. “Oh, Robbe! You’re back already? I didn’t think you would be back home for a little bit longer.”

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. “I’m streaming soon but I got roped into a football tournament.” He paused and Zoë grinned at him, raising an eyebrow. “So, I need a shower before I even think of doing anything else.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Zoë replied, smiling. She held the door open for Robbe, who quickly stepped past her to keep it open. He turned back to Zoë who was moving toward the fancy black car parked at the curb. “Milan took his shower before I did so the bathroom is all yours,” Zoë informed him. “I told Milan before I left so I’ll tell you too. I don’t know if I’m going to be back for dinner so don’t wait for me.”

“Where are you going?” Robbe asked.

Before Zoë could answer, he heard someone shout, “Hey, Robbe!” He glanced at the car, finding it now had the window rolled down. Robbe could see Senne behind the driver’s seat wearing a gray t-shirt. Robbe waved and Senne raised his hand in greeting. “I’m stealing Zoë for the day!”

“Ah, okay,” Robbe replied, grinning over at Zoë, who rolled her eyes playfully. 

Robbe had been aware that Senne and Zoë had heard that reconnected through Amber, who was one of her friends from their school. But, his roommate had been keeping their relationship secret for the past few months. In high school, Zoë and Senne had moved so quickly, it complicated things. Now, Zoë had wanted to take it slow. Robbe had only seen Senne at their apartment once in the three months since they got back together, making coffee on a Tuesday morning. 

“Does that mean I should expect you back at all tonight?”

Zoë rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Senne and I are going out with his roommates and maybe Amber. If it ends up being later, I might stay over at his place.” She glanced toward the car, smiling at Senne, who was waiting with an amused grin on his face. Then, she turned back to Robbe. “Be honest with me. How do I look?” 

“You look perfectly fine.”

“Do I?” Zoë asked. She looked down at her shorts and her flowy summer shirt. In a nervous burst, she tried to flatten out the ends that weren’t tucked into her shorts. Then, she looked back at him. “I’m so nervous, Robbe. I haven’t met Senne’s roommates before. I mean, I have seen Sander. Occasionally, through Amber. But this is the first time I’m meeting him and their other roommate as his girlfriend.” 

“Zoë, breathe,” Robbe said. Zoë took a deep breath before releasing it shakily. “It’s going to be great. They are going to love you.” She looked skeptical. “Now, I would suggest heading to the car before Senne decides to get out and carry you to it.” 

Zoë laughed. “That’s definitely something he would do, isn’t it?” she asked, beaming over at Senne. Before she stepped away, she added, “I would give you a hug, Robbe. But I can see how sweaty you are, so you’re just going to get a hug tomorrow, okay?” 

Robbe laughed, nodding. 

As Zoë headed to the car, Robbe stepped into the lobby, watching her over his shoulder. Once Senne had realized she was coming, he went to get out of the car. But Zoë said something that stopped him in his tracks. Senne laughed in response. Once Zoë was in the car, her boyfriend leaned over to press a kiss against her cheek before the window rolled up. Then, the two of them were gone. 

Robbe felt something tug longingly in his heart. As he pressed the up button for the elevator, Robbe’s phone chimed loudly and he quickly pulled it out. He expected it to be one of the Broerrrs or Milan or possibly his mother. But the name Thomas glared up at him and his eyes darted over the message.

Thomas: I’ll stop by and get my stuff tomorrow. 18:00. Promise

Robbe stuffed his phone into his pocket. The elevator doors opened, and he quickly stepped inside. He reached out, slamming the 5 harder than he meant to. But the doors closed all the same and he felt the force as he was lifted up to the flatshare—where he could shower, where he could stream, and where he could put the text out of his mind until Thomas showed up tomorrow. 

If Thomas showed up at all. 

clip 3

[weekendsabo]

Journal - Saturday, December 1st, 2018

Bob sent me the band Bonny Doon. Now I’m listening to Ricewine which is equally as chill as the Bonny Doon band. Big News! I found the missing piece to that stupid puzzle. I don’t know exactly where is came from, but it just appeared and I’m happy that puzzle doesn’t have a missing piece now. Pretty excited. but got in clean mode so I swept the entire house and cleaned that fan and mopped a little. Nice to have a clean house. If I just do a little everyday it won’t get bad.

Cont. on 11/22

I have to get a washer and dryer. Maybe that’s what I’ll get with my hopeful bonus. Mild orange was next on youtube and they are solid as well. I have plans to meet up at Dillinger with Tsvet and James and possibly more. I’ll definitely throw on a different shirt and.

I saw you in that chair a look and gaze

Lunch was fun with James and Tsvet as well as Dee and Dennis, and the lady in the corner. I like the Dillinger. I go the Ruben and it was solid and some patron. Man, tequila is so good. I’m going to get a bottle for home. I kind of hope Luna doesn’t come over, but with my luck, she probably will. So just got downtown. She’s going to be a little late so I’ll go get a drink at the bar and pee all . I hope it goes well!

Cont. on 11/21

I can’t believe Luna still won’t text me back. I feel bad for her situation. Like, she has the worst luck. I can’t believe he would just hit, Dalton, and while living together. ridiculous. I may- well if she ever texts me back, then maybe I would consider having her come live here. We could car pool and jam and I think it would be fun. Make some vegan food together and just chill all the time. I don’t think I would mind having her around all the time. I’ve tried and whenever I see her shes always super excited to see me. So maybe I just have to but upfront about it and just be like “Hey, I like you, and u was wandering if you wanted to go on a date some time if you’re interested. If not, no biggy. I’m stoked to just be your friend and I’d be 100% okay with keeping it that way. no hard feelings or anything like that. So yeah, I mean we already know each other. but this would be a way for use to get to know each other ore and on a more deeper level. we can talk about sex and stuff like that and see what we both like. Do drugs together and just have a lot of fun. Could be cool if she ever texted back...

Cont. on 11/20

What do I like about Luna?

She has this like nervous laugh that I find adorable. She’ just comfortable. The right height to fit under my arm. That might have been the highlight of my night. Cuddling right up to her. Only way it could have been better is if she put her arm around me. But the head nuzzle worked just as well. I feel she just seem me as a friend and that’s okay. There’s only one way to find out and it just to ask her. Tomorrow night. I’ll go chill at my folks or maybe find something free to do downtown or I can hit up Evan and see what he’s doing. Or maybe I’ll just go chill and walk around DT a little. Possibilities are almost endless. Definitely maybe won’t hit her up. Are you interested in dating at all. I know you might not be be interested and getting out of your relationship. So I completely understand if you’re not down, and this will be the last we talk about it. I just have developed feeling and I wanted to se if you felt to same way. Nothing to lose really. One of the reasons I went to the show last night was to see her. Mission accomplished. Well see, I probably won’t cause I don’t want to make things awkward. So, that's probably the better option.

Cont. on 11/19

Also, she doesn’t smoke cigs, shes open to drugs, she doesn’t drink much which I would be adamant that I won’t drink when she doesn’t drink. She’d fit right on the back of my bike. One that I’m getting with my bonus. I feel we would have a good relationship and would be happy together. I understand depression, and would want to have an open policy on communication cause that is very very important.

Cont. on 11/16

I don’t know if I’m going to  continue using this pen. It’s a little too much bleed through. It’s not to bad once you write. I thought maybe I would have a hard time reading but it looks okay. I’ll keep using the pen for now. Attempted to make pretzels with the pizza dough. I left and I turned out eggy. I think my water wasn’t hot enough or it was just not that great dough. Oh well. It’ll build a turd. I’ll probably make a BLT later for dinner. but really. I’ve eat plenty for today. Well see. I’ll get a wire brush and get the rest of that just out of there. Get a propane tank and itll be cool. I’ll boil those eggs tonight for sure and that’ll be my b-fast and lunch. Cook all that bacon. I’ll bake it so I don’t have to deal with is in a pan. and I’ll be able to get it nice and crispy! It’ll be delicious. AND she listened to music and likes to go to shows! I wold be the absolute best! So how do you think she sees me? Someone who drinks a ton. She knows all about my touring. I would also be 100% okay with her on tour. no problem with that at all.

Cont. on 11/15

I know I want someone that will help me learn or better me. Okay. Bonus equals home gym stuff and guitar. After this trip I’ll get a desk and get that stuff all set up. I’ll see if she has . I can drop her off in the morning and get her a coffee, then go to the gym to kill time. That does sound like a good plan. Then she can chill there or do something. I’d definitely let her take my car. I can get a ride gone from someone. If she wanted to go out. That might actually be good. Just to get that time alone. I’m down. If it gets. It’s not going to get awkward. It’s not like I’m asking her to be with me forever, I just feel like it could be fun. and if that happens, I will definitely get rid of FB. I feel once I do get a girl, I will just get rid of it and set up - I’ll wait till I get the band page going. Goal - Release 2 albums next year or EP’s whatever. I just want some music out there. I’ll make it happen. 2019 is going to be a good and productive year. No drink December starts now. I can do it. Yesterday I already knew that was happening before to deal to no drink to NYE!

Cont. on 11/14

Still not surprised that I spent $5600 on alcohol this year. I probably bumped it up to $5700 yesterday for sure. That ends now! That’s easily a trip to anywhere for a couple weeks. So bad. Cut down on food and booze and I will be doing great! I’ll find an easy recipe for something I can eat all week. Some chicken something. Make some perogies. It’ll be delicious. Invite James and Tsvet over. Find a good Perogie sauce. Keep it vegan hopefully. Id also be down to seriously cut down on my meat eating. I had a nice lunch with my sister today. I hope she quits that job and finds something else. And Zeb just sucks. I know why she doesn’t want to be with him and why she feels she can’t get a divorce. It’s scary. Especially for her. Be so hard to get Makayla over there unless all her rules just goes away. Cut his house, then she would just hate being over at Mel s. I think she will do it soon cause I wouldn’t deal with that for that long. Especially with his separate account. Not that having a separate account is bad, but it was kept secret. So crazy. That guy sucks.

Cont. on 11/13

Date with Gabby.

She was very nice and I did have a lot of fun. From Baltimore. Graduating next May from ASU. Lives with her folks. Has Type 1 diabetes which sucks. Net a natural red head but likes it. We started out at Artiface, we talked about her brothers show and how it went. she said it went really well. Told her about my tour life and stuff like that and stuff. She was super into horoscopes which is worrying. But really I’m not down. I’m pretty sure that I wont see her again. There was just no physical attraction. I don’t want to have to fake a whole aspect of a relationship just to save her feelings. Just it’s not happening. So, I’ll just have to break it of gently. Something like I had a lot of fun and you’re a cool person, but I don’t think we should continue to hang out anymore. I just didn’t feel anything and it’s not going to progress any more that it has so just do not waste your time or should just keep it like this and if we see each other by chance well say high and stuff. and keep if from getting awkward. Something like that should work! Next tie she ask about it I’ll bring in up and hope it goes good.

Cont. on 11/12

I think they are going to be alright. The eggs that is. I’m hard boiling 12 of them so that's 2 a day plus two days where I’ll get three. We can do Tuesday and Thursday. I’ll find a good recipe tomorrow. gotta take a break from pizza. I be I can lose 10 lbs by the christmas party. Especially if I’m not drinking. It’ll be easy. Work out stuff. Eggs are done. Bacon gets like 15 minutes. I may take a bath here shortly or tonight I should say. I’ll get all my shopping done on Sunday. Not drinking will cut the cost of this trip by a ton. I will have one with lunch but other than that no more. just tell them  I’m on a hiatus. They won’t care. It really is no big deal. Tomorrow I’ll take some week and call it good! Save my a ton on money and I won’t feel like garbage on Tuesday. Well, I guess I won’t be cooking tomorrow unless I just come home and leave for the show. I wonder how may extra miles that would be, but it doesn’t matter. Its’ only a couple bucks to not have to kill like 5 hours. So yeah, I’ll come home after work. Make some good and chill, then I’ll head out.

Cont. on 11/10-11/12

I’m more that likely going to roll after Beemaster. Probably watch a song or two of the touring guy to see how they are. Cool, I’ll stay. Not cool, I’m going to rolling after Beemaster. Sorry dude but I have to be up early and I don’t want to be out till the wee hours of the morning for some band. I’ve never heard of. I will ask Luna out and see how that goes before I figure out if I should ask Vivian. I still think I’m not “cool” enough to date her. I would definitely need to step up my wardrobe, or she does like who I am but I could be fun to get dressed up and stuff like that. Lint roller tomorrow so I can wear my blue sweater but tomorrow. Wake up at 5. No snooze go for a run. Shave and shower. Work a little early. Wrap up that stupid 945 west 8th. That job can suck it! Hopefully we’ll be slow this week. I’ll take this with me and get it filled up. I could have filled up so much if I had this at work. Oh well. Either way, I’m jamming music tomorrow and no one can stop me! Friday I will do perogies. Have Ty and Melka and Tsvet and James and I’ll see if Luna is down. Be Like a triple date! Tell the to bring a game!

Cont. on 11/9

BLT was good. I used ricotta instead of mayo since I didn’t have any. I was even at the store too. I could be having some good food, but I was lazy! I need to stop doing that. Tsvet last night just I mean. It’s awesome that they do enjoy it as well. I’ll see if Luna want to come and I’ll do the vegan pirogies. If not, I’ll do the regular ones. Make the. I’ll make the dough and filling the day before, or all of it before, then just boil and fry and they will be golden. Do Like a salad or get some hummus. Borrow their food processor and make some hummus. Slice up some veggies or find a polish side dish and see. What I can fins. Maybe there's some good stuff if not. Hummus it is. I can do two different kinds. Do traditional and tn maybe find a jalapeno hummus. Then cucumbers cherry tomato's, something. I’ll do a onion mushroom top for the perogies. If they're at the show tomorrow I’ll ask the. I’ll shoot them all a message tomorrow. Should be a good time. I know Ty will be down. Still want to have a variety of people over instead of same people all the time.

Cont. on 11/8

I wonder if I can convert the kitchen to gas if I bought this house. I would tear down this wall. Lift the ceiling and just open this house up! but I�� do like the setup the way it is. It’s a pretty cute house but who knows. I may bot stay out here and go live in the bus and rent a warehouse or try and by a place with an apartment. I wander how much it'll cost? Maybe just being single is the way to go for a little while later. Maybe not try so hard. I’ll still talk to Luna though. but its just so easy to be myself. and, I took them for granite for sure. I’lI don’t know she wasn't’ right for me, but we had a lot of fun. Disney all the time, living together and working. I got over KC and Rainy. They were just way too much unfortunately. Their family is just way too much. I just wanted to stay home and play video games. I’m happy that is not a hobby anymore. Spent so much time playing games. They are really fond memories, but just doesn’t do it for me like it used too. Crazy how that have changed. I’ve changed a bunch these past couple years.

Cont. on 11/7

My blood pressure was like 14 over 92 with a heart rate of 102. I was just all high and probably because of how much I drank last night. 3 shots and 5 beers in 3.5hours on an empty stomach. I was pretty drunk unfortunately. At least I don’t have to worry about it. I’m so better at life sober so I don’t know why. I just want to feel something. Binging everything to take my mind off things. but I feel if I keep up with the writing I think I will be alright. I don’t need it, I just want it. Lately I’ve been not super happy with myself when I get super drunk. It’s just not fun anymore. I make bad decisions and just don’t do good. So I think I may just have to cut it out completely. It would be like changing my whole life. Bit I think I’m okay with it. I’ll be able to get a lot of things done and I can work more on music and other hobbies. I do want to get into wood working just because it seems fulfilling. We’ll see. I do have time to do these things I’m only 32 and I have a lot of years left to live!

Cont. on 11/6

I wonder if I can just get by with smoking weed and not drinking. I’m going to get some acid for sure. and just have some good trips. Doing it at NYE during the D could be really fun. I would be down to quit everything but psychedelics. They are by far the best. I will have acid parties. Find a girl that's down and just have fun with each other, explore each others body. I want to do that sober. Someone I’m actually attracted to. I still had fun, but it was what I needed at the time. I would sacrifice that physical attraction for being with someone. I went for what was there and easy. I have been good at not just being with someone. I’m so worried about not getting hard. I know when the time comes I will be upfront about it and let them know the deal. I also really need to lay off the porn so much and get some lube. dick is just getting beat up. Lets do a No Porn December with the no drinking and see how it goes. You can still jerk off, but without porn. I have to rewire my brain to stop thinking about porn, and it’s such a bad habit that it would definitely happen when I’m in a relationship.

[tappity-tap]

FOREVER BElonging WITH YOU

PART II - THE THRESHOLD

<< PART I || PART III >> Story Rating: M Chapter Warnings: Some sexual content. [This chapter *could* be considered nsfw but nothing explicit happens yet]

Once all their guests had departed, the couple had insisted on staying to help with clean up but were firmly shooed away by multiple people. In particular, the Kuchiki family’s personal servants and valets.

“But…it was our wedding party,” Rukia protested when several of them whisked the plates she had gathered up right out of her arms.

“Exactly! We cannot allow you to lift a finger!” they maintained even as Renji slipped past and tried to clear more of the used dinnerware from the abandoned tables.

It was only with the arrival of their hired rickshaw for the ride home (paid for by Byakuya, of course) that Renji and Rukia finally allowed themselves to be sent on their way.

Now here they were. Seated side-by-side and wrapped in a warm fur robe across their laps big enough to shield both them from the crisp chill of night as they rode through the deserted streets of the Seireitei. Under the robe, one of her hands fit snugly in his and the other clutched the veil their friends had made for her. In her mind’s eye she could clearly picture every beautiful detail as her thumb traced over the strawberry flower designs threaded into the fabric. The radial shapes closely resembled the stars twinkling merrily in the dark sky overhead.

In front of them, the top of their runner’s hat bobbed up and down repeatedly, distinguishable from the darkness only by the twisted white straps that dangled down from the sides and tied under his chin. Under the cover of night the distance between the two of them and the runner was enough that it allowed Rukia to comfortably display a little more affection towards Renji.

Although she was a captain class fighter who could handle herself…and anyone else for that matter…she never felt safer or more at ease than when she could drop her guard and bask in the familiarity of Renji’s presence. He was everything. Her everything.

She didn’t even have to look at him to know he was content with this.

Normally flared from the adrenaline spike that came with the heat of battle or fluctuating with each breath because he was a passionate man and it showed through in every last aspect of him, his reiatsu washed over her like a warm, soothing bath in its rare calmness and she lay her head against his arm to indulge in it. His giant frame, strong and steady even as it sank into the cushions behind them, did not give.

Only when she leaned herself on him fully did he let out a deep sigh and his breath clouded before his face. Then the cloud broke into scattered wisps, vanishing as suddenly as it appeared and he was silent once more.

Other than rhythmic creak of the rickshaw’s wooden wheels and the slow patter of the runner’s sandals slapping stone, there were no sounds to disturb their comfortable silence. Everything was quiet, peaceful.

Perfect.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now.”

Rukia blinked heavily and shifted her limp body further into him. “Why not?” she asked with all the poise and dignity befitting any Kuchiki noblewoman. That is, if she were two years old and badly in need of a nap.

But then, she realized with a pang, she was no longer a Kuchiki, not really. Only in name as a soldier in the Gotei 13. She would slide back into her old patterns soon enough, likely even sooner with Renji’s encouragement.

“Because what happens if we hit a bump?” Here Renji moved his arm and jostled her for emphasis.  “’An you go flyin’ out?”

He was teasing, she knew, and she played along. “You wouldn’t let me,” Rukia replied with a nuzzle to the firm bicep that had just so rudely disturbed her, “You swore you’d never let me go. I expect you to hold to that, Abarai Renji.”

 “And I am, Abarai Rukia.” His hand gently squeezed. Under her cheek and through the fabric of his clothing she felt the defined muscles of his arm flex. “Besides, the idea of becomin’ a widower the same night as my wedding doesn’t sound too nice.”

 Rukia drew back with distain. “I would never do that to you,” she chastised.

 His other hand reached across to her. “Yeah,” he grinned with a swift chuck to her chin, “I know.”

 Whatever response she was about to give never had the chance to be expressed; at that moment, the runner turned their rickshaw onto a street teeming with nightlife and she reflexively jerked away from his touch. Lively music and the smell of sizzling meat wafted over them, and a chorus of cheers arose when the occupants realized the couple in the rickshaw was recently wed. People waved furiously and called out well wishes as they passed, one group even raising their cups and belting out a few loud verses of some traditional drinking song.

 Rukia bit her lip and looked down at her lap, angry at everyone in the vicinity for pulling her private moment with Renji out from under her. And despite the kind intent of their gestures, she never particularly enjoyed receiving more attention than necessary from complete strangers. Especially when it pertained to her love life.

 Unconsciously desperate to either hide or sulk, she huffed and burrowed herself further under the thick blanket. The hand holding hers squeezed firmly. “Ignore ‘em. We’ll be home soon,” Renji muttered. She noted with some satisfaction that he also sounded annoyed.

 No sooner had those words left his mouth when they turned again, this time onto a residential street lined with handsomely built houses. One that as of a few weeks ago was now theirs, and their ride slowed to a halt in front of the gate.

 “Ah. See?” Renji cocked his head smugly.

 Rukia was unable to put much effort into her reply face; all that went to keeping upright when the carriage gave a small lurch forward as its driver prepared for their disembarkation.

 Once he had laid the handles on the ground, he carefully stepped out from between then and walked over to Renji’s side of the rickshaw. He bowed deeply and swept one arm out in front of him in presentation.

 “Pardon me, Abarai-sama. We have arrived.”

This was announced with perfectly practiced reverence, though by the sound of his voice he couldn’t have been past his late teens.

 Renji let go of Rukia’s hand to fling aside the robe covering their lower halves. With the thick fur gone, all the heat it kept in so nicely for them the entire journey home rushed away into the night and the cold quickly took its place. Both passengers flinched from its sudden bite.

 Then, perching on the edge of the carriage in a surprising display of dexterity, Renji stood and stretched his long, lithe form up to its full potential before roughly dismounting onto the pavement with a grunt of satisfaction.  

 “Right. Thanks a lot!” he grinned and patted his now-vacant seat, “Never rode in one ‘o these before. Gotta say, it was kinda fun, huh Rukia? Real smooth, too. Definitely gonna put in a good word to your boss!”

 The young man started and nodded vigorously in thanks, apparently unaccustomed to being addressed so directly and informally by cliental, but nonetheless grateful for Renji’s sincere words of praise.

 After giving the cushion one last firm slap for good measure, Renji reached out his hand for Rukia to take once more. She grasped it tightly as he helped her descend, internally grateful for the gesture; Being bound in her kimono’s many layers of delicate silk brocade made it very difficult to move in any direction that wasn’t straight forward on even ground. Having her other hand occupied with the delicate veil hindered her balancing ability somewhat as well.

 Rukia gave their driver one last word of thanks and allowed Renji to take the lead through the large wooden gate. It was now she noticed all the lanterns hanging outside the perimeter of the house had already been lit before they arrived. Bright and flickering, they bathed the entire yard in a deceptively warm glow as the couple trekked up the stone path to the main entrance.

 “So…” Renji released her hand and spun about to face her when they reached the single stone stair leading up to the veranda. He towered over her, eyebrow cocked and fists placed jauntily on his hips. “Now a good time?”

 Rukia had no idea what he was talking about until one hand left his side to softly caress her cheek, and she then recalled what had been denied to him earlier at the banquet.

 Her heart leapt. “Um…is he gone?” she asked, referring to the runner.

 Renji gave her an incredulous look but still cooperated and glanced over her shoulder at the gate to make sure. “Yeah. He’s gone.”

 “A-alright,” Rukia nodded and let him slide his hand around the back of her head.

 He drew her in at last.

 They may have been out there for hours or only a few minutes. Who could say? Time always seemed to get away from her whenever it was just her and Renji, though this was something she never found herself concerned about.

 His eyes shone brightly (it could have been merely a trick of the lantern light) when they finally broke apart. “How’s that for a welcome home?”

 Giving a pronounced roll of her eyes, Rukia unwound her arms from his neck and waist and folded them in front of her chest. The veil fluttered and draped itself over one elbow. “Could’ve…been worse,” she responded dryly, trying not to let the catch in her voice give away how much she actually enjoyed that kiss.

 But of course, he knew. He always knew her too well. Shaking his head with a laugh, Renji knelt down at her feet. To her utter confusion, he proceeded to take one of her ankles in his large hand and lift it to slide off her elegant sandal.

 She stared, bewildered, as he set it on the ground next to him and reached for her once more empty-handed. “Renji, what are you doing?”

 Renji froze with his outstretched hand just inches away from grabbing the other foot. “I…uh…I’m gonna carry ya inside?” he answered with the look of a man slowly coming to realize the brilliant plan he is currently in the midst of carrying out is, in actuality, a very bad idea.

 Rukia squinted at him suspiciously. “Why? I can walk by myself perfectly fine.”

 He slowly withdrew his fingers, one at a time. “Um…well…apparently it’s a tradition in the West for grooms to carry brides into the house for the first time after the marriage ceremony.”

 “And what’s the reason for this?”

 Renji awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “I…dunno really. Lieutenant Sasakibe mentioned it once. I just…kinda liked the idea of it. Sounded nice.”

 Being carried into the cozy warmth of their home from the freezing cold nestled in Renji’s arms did sound nice, actually. But it was disconcerting enough just thinking this in her own head, let alone telling him directly. Try as she might, however, Rukia found it impossible to concoct a valid –sounding excuse without giving herself away and was resigned to shrugging at him in reluctant agreement.

 With that gesture he perked and looked up at her hopefully. One finger twitched back out over her foot. “So…uh…”

 Rolling her eyes, Rukia lifted her foot so Renji could more easily finish what he started. “If you must.”

 He happily complied. Once it was off, he picked the other one off the ground and held both of them out so she could hook the fingers of her free hand through the straps. As he stood, Rukia asked, “Why was Lieutenant Sasakibe talking to you about wedding traditions, anyway?”

 Renji faltered. “Ahhh…that.” He brushed the dust off his trousers and reached out for her. With one fluid movement, she was swept off her feet and into the cradle of his arms. “Ya know when you were…gonna be executed?” he asked hesitantly while she settled herself.

Comfortably situated, Rukia raised her eyebrows at him and leaned into his broad chest. For support. “I remember that, yes,” she responded dryly.

 “Right.” He cleared his throat before moving in front of the stoop with her. “It was before a Lieutenant meeting not long after. We were the first ones there ‘an got to talkin’. He said…” Renji’s grip on her shoulder and thigh tightened slightly.

 When he failed to continue, Rukia tapped her fingers (and by proxy the toes of her sandals) on his chest impatiently. “What did he say, Renji?”

 Renji chose to look down at the step as he mounted it and then at the wooden floor of the veranda, instead of at her. “He said how I held ya as I ran away reminded him of a groom carryin’ his bride over the threshold to start a new life together. I didn’t get it at first so he had to explain it to me.”

 They both fell silent save for the boards creaking under Renji’s feet. Neither of them had gotten to know Lieutenant Sasakibe very well before he died during the Quincy’s first invasion and they still harbored some regret over this. He always seemed like a very kind man, especially now with what Renji had just revealed. Rukia felt a rush of emotion towards the late Shinigami.

 Here he reached the door and stopped to adjust Rukia’s position so his elbow supported her knees and he could extend his arm from under her. “But…um…it makes sense, I guess. We kinda did start a new life together after that.”

 Rukia scoffed as he took hold of the door and slid it open. “Not a married one. You didn’t even confess to me until shortly before the Quincies attacked!”

 Renji stepped inside. “Might as well’ve been. We were always together, weren’t we?” His expression slackened into a dopey grin. “’An even if we hadn’t said it yet, we were still in love.”

 Rukia had to smile back at that. Though they had started out as friends in childhood, she had come to like Renji in more than just a friendly way in their later adolescent years and was sure he felt the same about her. (This remained unconfirmed until he broke down and confessed almost three years ago) She was certain they had even come close to kissing once in the hallways of the Academy, however the surprise arrival of a group of Renji’s friends from the advanced class had abruptly put a stop to that.

 But before they had the chance to properly explore their feelings for each other, she was whisked away by the Kuchiki family and all hopes of what they could have been were dashed. She tried her hardest to forget him, even found herself interested in other men-including one of her own superiors-during their 50 years apart. Despite that, nothing worked. No one could ever come close to him.

 Then in an unexpected twist of fate, Rukia was (quite literally) thrown back into his life and they were given a second chance, a chance that they whole-heartedly took. They quickly became close again and rarely left each other’s side…much to the chagrin of her brother.

 With as much time as she spent with Renji over the next year and a half, the smoldering embers deep inside were rapidly reignited and Rukia found herself strongly attracted to him once more. That he grew his stunning red hair almost down to his waist and started wearing his uniform open in a deep V to expose a good percentage of his well-muscled chest may have helped speed along the process. Just a tad.

 When he finally confessed to her at the height of a heated argument between them, that night they were caught in a sudden downpour and were forced to huddle under a tree panting and soaked through from the rain, she didn’t even hesitate. She kissed him and scolded him for keeping quiet for so long, then kissed him once more. The rain magically decided to let up shortly after.

 It was not until Rukia fought with the Quincy Äs Nödt during the war and was shown the greatest fear in her heart, what she was so desperately afraid of was losing Renji again for good, that she realized all this time what she had been feeling for him was no mere attraction; She was in love.

 There were no qualms in her mind when she grasped his hand and quietly professed she wanted to be with him as they recovered in the aftermath of the final battle. And again when she accepted his clumsy (but sweetly sincere) proposition of marriage and agreed to become his wife.

 The door shut and they both involuntarily relaxed as the air around them quickly warmed up. Renji wiggled his sandals off just inside and stepped up into the entrance hall in his stocking feet. When he made to set her on the floor, Rukia pressed her veil hand into the front of his kimono to stay him.

 “Wait.” She reached back over his shoulder and dropped her own sandals on top of his. He tilted his head as a question and it suddenly made her feel almost too shy to voice hers. “Can…can we stay like this for a bit?” she asked quietly.

 “Oh. Sure, if ya want,” Renji replied, sounding only too happy to honor her request. He took a breath and looked around with eager interest. “Those’re new,” he stated, motioning his head at several decorative pieces in the receiving room alcove that she now noticed and recalled had not been there when they left that morning.

 “So they are.” Rukia pointed to a pair of iridescent painted screens visible through the open kitchen doorway. “And those as well.”

 Renji moved to the entryway of the living room. “Geeze. How much stuff did the captain send over?” he wondered aloud with amusement as he eyed a beautifully carved tea cabinet in the corner.

 It was true Byakuya tended to get carried away with gift giving, and the things he bestowed on them in celebration of their marriage were no exception, but Rukia knew it was only because he cared about her (and perhaps Renji, too) very deeply and this was one of the few ways he felt comfortable with showing it.

 Feeling herself grow flush, Rukia turned her head away from Renji and concentrated on fiddling with the tiny 6th Division crest adorning the right breast of his haori. “I’m sure he only ordered what he thought we needed.”

 “Ah, right. Always said how much I need one ‘o those.” Renji nodded back at the scroll covered in intricate calligraphy that hung in the tokonoma.

 Taking a closer look, Rukia recognized the precise swirling script almost instantly. “Renji,” she scolded flatly with a fingertip poking into the flower emblem’s center, “you realize Nii-sama made that himself?”

 He winced. “O-oh. It’s…uh…nice. I like it.” Clearing his throat, he adjusted his hold on her and continued further into the house.

 This new home was nowhere near as big or grand as the Kuchiki mansion, but it was still a nice size, more than sufficient for two people. Even after getting used to her adoptive family’s lavish living space, Rukia had always felt too small compared to the large splendor of the estate and she was secretly thankful to have downsized quite a bit.

 For Renji, on the other hand, this was a significant upgrade from his lieutenant’s quarters and being fairly poor all his bachelor life, he had never lived in a space of his own with more than two rooms to it. Watching his eyes get bigger and bigger as he took in each residence they looked at while house hunting started off as a source of amusement for her until she remembered this.

 They passed a few spare rooms, one of which they already decided to convert into an office of sorts in case they wanted to bring their work home. That was now outfitted with a low table desk much like the one Rukia had seen Byakuya use on several occasions.  

 In the bath, a large wooden tub overtook the space where previously sat a much smaller one that Renji frequently complained was barely big enough to fit him so this new addition seemed to please him most of all.

 “Very nice,” he remarked casually, glancing it over with an air of satisfaction, “Could fit two people in there, easy.”

 This was said (and likely intended) as an offhand comment but for Rukia, it was acting as a suggestion.

 Now that he had given her the idea, she could easily picture them sitting in that tub after a long day, talking and relaxing in the hot water as they scrubbed each other’s backs. Just like when they were kids bathing in the river, she would lather up Renji’s long hair and gleefully dunk him under to rinse it out after a vigorous scrubbing. He would let her have the upper hand at first before bursting out of the water, laugh triumphantly at her frustration when he loomed over to shake his wet mane out and shower her with thousands of tiny sparkling droplets. And he would push wayward strands of damp red locks out of his face to grin down wickedly at her, “Oh, just you wait, Rukia, I’m gonna getcha back good for that!” Lean forward at the same time she rose to meet him. Her hands sliding across his glistening tattooed chest, his tightening around her hips, drawing her to him. Flushed, slick bodies pressed together into a writhing mass of slippery bare skin swathed in steam…

 “Hey, you okay? Ya look at little…lost.” Renji peered down at her curiously.

 “What? I’m fine!” Rukia squeezed her eyes shut to try and clear her head. Where on earth were those images even coming from? That last part never happened when they were kids.

 “Well. Looks like that’s everything,” he stated plainly once they’d moved back into the hall.

 “S-so it seems.” Rukia nodded, still slightly rattled from the strange daydream.

 “So…” Renji’s voice suddenly took on a deeper, more husky quality and she immediately whipped her head up, surprised to catch him gazing down at her with a completely new expression. His dark eyes smoldered with something that had her heart skipping a few beats. “Waddaya say…we head on in to the bedroom now?” he asked, quietly. Pointedly.

 There was absolutely no mistaking what he intended to do once they got there.

 Rukia froze. “Oh. Um…yes.” Her voice sounded faint and far away.

 She barely felt the warm kiss on her forehead or the thumb rubbing in circles along her shoulder. With each step he took down the hall, her heart throbbed infinitesimally faster and the surface of her skin fizzed in pulsating buzzes. By the time they reached the bedroom even her stomach had started fluttering and whether it was nerves or excitement or both, she was unable to tell. As soon as Renji slid open the door, she nearly leapt straight out of his arms in shock.

 At the center of the room, the two single futons they had slept on since moving into the house had been taken away. In their place was a low platform with a frame made of deep red cherry wood and topped with a pair of woven tatami mats to match the flooring. A wide futon big enough to fit both of them and two generously stuffed pillows had been laid out over it.

 “Huh.” Renji nodded his approval. Then, smoothly, he tipped Rukia onto the floor (and wobbly legs) in front of the platform and spun her by the shoulders so they were face to face. She had held on to her veil the entire time he carried her through the house and now he gently took it from her shaking hands and laid it on a low table nearby.

 Having taken care of everything, Renji shuffled back to stand before her once more and dropped his arms to his sides, eyebrow cocked.

 “Ahem.” Those dark, burning eyes flickered from her to the futon. Then back to her.  His eyelids lowered themselves ever so slightly and the corner of his lip twitched up. “Shall we?” he asked, the low huskiness from before returning and bringing with it a suggestive tilt of his head. His bravado never wavered once, not even when faint pink patches stared blossoming onto his cheeks.

 At that moment, Rukia abruptly sobered up and became very, very cognizant of her current situation. As of the ceremony this afternoon, she was officially Renji’s wife now and he, her husband. They were in their bedroom. Alone. In front of their bed. Her husband was looking her up and down with an intense hunger she had never seen him display before, like she was the only thing in the world he wanted and would ever want again. The only thing holding them back now was the absence of her expressed consent.

 The fluttering sensation in her stomach spiked dramatically.

 Rukia whirled around so she faced the bed instead of Renji and jammed her fists onto her hips. “Th-this is a very good bed!” she declared hotly, hoping the tremor in her voice went unnoticed, “Nii-sama has excellent taste, as expected!”

 She jumped when she felt the sensation of callused fingertips meeting her skin, travelling slowly up her neck and over her jaw. The locks of hair framing the left side of her face lifted and moments later a soft kiss took their place.  

 “I didn’t bring ya in here to admire the furniture, ya know.” Renji’s low murmur vibrated into her cheek.  That, and his lips barely grazing her skin, felt…well…she was unable to describe it exactly but it scattered the flutters into a strange thrill that radiated through her.

 I wonder how it would feel if he did that a little lower…

 The unexpected appearance of that thought startled her more than the actions that caused them. “I know that!” she snapped, perhaps a little more shrilly than necessary.

 Renji recoiled and she found herself missing what he had been doing to her. “Um, hey…look…it’s okay,” he assured her in a quiet voice. His broad hands started hesitantly kneading calm circles along her shoulders (for a fleeting instant she imagined those hands moving to other places) and he spoke as soothingly as possible, “It’s okay, ya know. No one said we had to consummate the marriage tonight.”

 Rukia deflated, leaned back into his surprisingly gentle touch. “I…I know that,” she repeated, this time in a tone that matched his. Again, the images flashed through her mind. She tried to will them away but then his strong arms encircled her. Arms that she very much wanted to push her onto the bed, hold her down and what was WRONG with her?

 Meanwhile, Renji had mistaken her response as accepting his offer to postpone things. He sighed with a smile and kissed the top of her head. “Right. We won’t do it now.”

 Rukia stilled. The crushing disappointment that set in at those words turned out to be the final straw. With that, she finally conceded to her lustful cravings and allowed her imagination take hold of and play out all the fantasies that were forming until she was physically quivering with the burning thirst to make them real. She wanted to know…no, needed to know what it would feel like.

 What he would feel like.

 Renji’s voice filtered through, “Let’s go to bed. We’ll wait…”

 I don’t want to wait.

 “…til you’re ready…”

 I’m ready NOW.

 “…okay?”

 “N-no.”

 There. It was finally out. After a pause, Rukia drew herself up and repeated firmly, this time without hesitation, “No.”

 Renji’s firm embrace held even as she turned in his arms and rested her forehead on his muscular chest. She felt him shift around her.  “Rukia…?” he asked, hushed and confused.

 “Renji…I don't want to make you wait any longer.” Her trembling finger traced the edge of his haori. “That is…I don’t want to wait any longer.” Rukia nearly swallowed back her next words from the unfamiliarity of saying such a thing, but at this point her yearning for him was so strong it brought about a sudden burst of boldness.  

 “I…I want you to…make love to me, Renji. Tonight. As my husband.”

Embarrassment flared within her the moment that declaration left her mouth but she had already made up her mind and she was determined to see this through.

Renji stayed silent. His arms slackened ever so slightly and for a moment Rukia considered the possibility he was having second thoughts. Then the hairs on the top of her head rustled gently with his amused chuckle. Though his face was out of sight, she knew he was grinning that lopsided smirk he put on whenever he was up to something.

 “Well, Rukia…as your husband, I’m more’n happy to do that for ya . But we’re kinda overdressed for that sorta thing, dontcha think?” he pointed out with an air of feigned innocence.

 In her current frazzled state, her nerves misfired and translated the enthusiastic YES her brain automatically responded with into a rapidly jerked nod, complete with burning cheeks and a racing pulse.

 Renji’s hold on her finally loosened. One hand (followed closely behind by a light shiver of anticipation) trailed down her back until it reached the bustle of the obi bound about her waist, then it turned and slid along the obijime until the knot in front pressed into his palm. He stepped back to look her in the eye and slowly slid his bandana off his head with the other hand, revealing the tattoos that wound their way from his eyebrows over his scalp.  Though his face was tinged with color and his heart was hammering so hard she could actually hear it, his gaze was determined, filled with desire.

 Desire, she knew, that was all for her.

 “Then let’s fix that.” Renji whispered with a sly smile.

 As soon as she responded with a smile of her own, the bandana fluttered free from his fingers. Then his mouth eagerly pressed itself to hers and she in turn eagerly accepted it, igniting the most ravenous, desperate kiss that had ever occurred between them. Several frantic tugs and fumbled unwindings later, the many layers of her sash fell to join his bandana on the floor. Rukia hardly noticed or cared, already completely caught up in the thrilling energy of their first joint undressing, and immediately moved to help Renji shrug off his haori. Difficult as this was at first due to his having to stoop to accommodate her much smaller stature, it too eventually reached its final destination at their feet.

 The rest of their clothes followed soon after.

Author’s Notes: So I don’t know if anyone’s noticed but the chapters titles are all puns/wordplay based on the themes and content of the chapter. For example, this chapter is “The Threshold”, referring to both the wedding night tradition and that they are about to take a step into completely new territory in their relationship. (and worry not...that’s coming up in the next chapter *WINK*). Part IV is the best because it’s basically a quadruple+ pun like good golly was I flipping out when I read up on all the different meanings of the word and almost every meaning applied to the chapter somehow. XD

Since I’m not an expert on Japanese culture I spent a lot of time (days) just doing research for this story including playing a flash game for elementary school kids learning about traditional Japanese households that I somehow stumbled across. The best part is some of the things I learned from that research actually applied to/helped me better understand a few of the WDkALY translations that came out while I was writing this. lol I’m hoping I got things right but if I didn’t I am more than willing to correct mistakes that are pointed out to me.

I’ve also been made aware that there are non-English speakers who have expressed interest in this project but are obviously unable to read it. So I am hereby giving my permission (as in you do not have to ask me first) to anyone who wishes to translate any parts of it into another language AS LONG AS you give proper links and credits back to me and the original work.

Continued in [PART III - THE CULMINATION]

[tanmath3-blog]

Doug Rinaldi has an amazing sense of humor and boy can he write a story. I recently read  A Different Kind of Slumber and let me say….WOW! I highly recommend it. He Is engaged to be married and he loves to tease her. Their messages on Facebook always make me giggle. Please if you don’t know Doug yet make sure to meet him and check out his books you won’t be sorry. I promise. Also, don’t forget to leave him a review! Please welcome Doug Rinaldi to Roadie Notes…….

  1. How old were you when you first wrote your first story?

I was in the 6th or 7th grade, so that would’ve made me… Hang on. I gotta take off my shoes. And… I was thirteen. My friend Thaddeus and I wrote a couple short stories together. One was about the cafeteria lunch ladies killing and feeding other students to us for lunch, succinctly called “The Lunch Ladies.” And the other one was called “One Dark Night.” No. For real. I have no recollection of what it was about. I think we drew up book covers in our notebooks for them as well. I’d kill to get a glimpse of those “masterpieces” again.

2. How many books have you written?

Currently under my belt, I have one short story collection called Purgatory Behind These Eyes. It contains sixteen short stories that I’ve written between 1997 and 2015. I have one novelette out, a ghost story with serial killer elements called A Different Kind of Slumber. Lately, I’ve been releasing short story chapbooks, 2-3 shorts per publication. Right now I have a two-story release titled With Great Vehemence: Two Tales of Vengeance. The other, Forever, Cried the Abyss, contains three more tales.

3. Anything you won’t write about?

I have no desire to write anything political or have any overt political leanings/opinions in my stories. None of that stuff really holds any interest for me. Everything else is fair game as long as it adds to the story and I can do the idea(s) justice with my words.

4. Tell me about you. Age (if you don’t mind answering), married, kids, do you have another job etc…

I am a 42 year-old man trapped in an 82 year-old’s body. Due to multiple issues with my back, I’m always in one sort of pain or another. Makes me walk like a pimp. No kids that I know of, but I have two fur babies.

At the moment, I make a living as a cubicle jockey doing inventory management for a medical supply company. It’s very low-key but it does occasionally afford me the opportunity to positively affect someone’s life. When they have an urgent medical need, I can assist by getting them the necessary product. I’d like to think I’ve managed to help a few people stay healthy. It also affords me the opportunity to get fatter. Sitting a desk 40+ hours a week isn’t very labor intensive. I wish I got those work out endorphin rushes people brag about; I’d might actually exercise more. But I don’t, so I don’t.

I am also a divorcee and, finally, after all these years since, I’m currently working on how to ruin my current fiancé’s life. I’m playing the long game. She’s a tough one, though… she digs me for some reason.

5. What’s your favorite book you have written?

I have a soft spot for all my releases and I am very proud overall of my short story collection. But my favorite things written to date are perhaps “Sybarites or Enmity of Perverse Existence” which is in Forever, Cried the Abyss and “City Morgue Blues” which is in my collection. Another fave would have to be my hitman story gone terribly wrong, “And the Hits Just Keep on Comin’.” That particular yarn was published in Smart Rhino Press’ Insidious Assassins anthology. It’s now featured in my revenge themed chapbook With Great Vehemence.

6. Who or what inspired you to write?

I had a friend back when I lived in Connecticut. We both worked for Barnes & Noble at the time. When we found out that we both liked to write, we started bouncing ideas off of each other and even started a writing group. He was as much a mentor as he was a collaborator. And that lit the spark and the hunger to write and create.

Besides him, I believe the stories in my noggin need to be told, the ideas need life. I write to free those ideas and to hopefully elicit emotions and responses from the reader. If the reader enjoys what I put down on paper, that’s great. But additionally it’s the catharsis of making the worlds and situations my characters experience become a reality.

7. What do you like to do for fun?

Generally, I’m a boring person to the naked eye. I call it being low-key… or lazy. I enjoy watching movies, listening to music, going to horror conventions, lounging with my cats. Every once in a while, my fiancé and I pretend Kung Fu fight with each other. More times than not, it ends with me getting hurt. So that’s always a fun way to pass the time. Other than that, I’m a big fan of sleeping and beer.

8. Any traditions you do when you finish a book?

I’ll have to get back to you on this one after I finish my actual novel. When I finished my first screenplay, I think I may have wept a few tears of joy. So, I can’t rightly imagine at this point how I’ll react once I finish the stupid thing.

9. Where do you write? Quite or music?

I tend to write mostly in my office at home. I prefer my desktop to a laptop. On the 3rd floor, it’s nice and quiet—except when Hicks won’t stop meowing. Other times, I’ll try to punch out a hundred words or so during lulls at work or on breaks. When at home though, sometimes I’ll listen to the silence (or Hicks), but mostly I prefer dark ambient music—stuff that just sounds like soundtracks to dreams. Not only is it soothing, there are no pesky lyrics to steal my attention away from the writing.

10. Anything you would change about your writing?

Perhaps the biggest change I would make is taking writing more seriously sooner. I had a rough time hurdling the basic grammar issues that I had failed to retain from school. I went to an art college, so there were no extra English classes for this guy. If I had started this journey earlier with a point to make it a profession, I might’ve been further along in that career… and more confident and disciplined.

11. What is your dream? Famous writer?

I’d be fine with making a modest living writing full-time. Or even if I was just supplementing my current income with word-monies, I’d be happy—happier than I am now for sure. I’ve always had a dream of seeing one of my stories on the screen. TV screen or Silver Screen, it doesn’t matter. It would just be an amazing feeling (as long as I stay off of the IMDb message boards). Another daydream of mine is owning and operating my own movie theater. Very expensive daydream…

12. Where do you live?

I live in an interesting little city north of Boston, on the border of Salem, NH. We just bought our first home together. There was just a huge Fentanyl bust here a few weeks ago. Very classy.

13. Pets?

I adopted two sibling kittens in 2010 and I love their stupid faces off. Ripley is a calico and sounds like a velociraptor when she purrs. And Hicks is a mutt who meows all the time for no reason. It’s nerve-racking, really. But I couldn’t see my life without them. When they die, I’m having them stuffed. Or have their skin boiled off and keep them as poseable skeletons.

14. What’s your favorite thing about writing?

The sense of not being alone even when you are. I may be sitting there by my lonesome (or with the mutant kitties), but my characters and plots are on the screen in front of me keeping me company. Writing is tough. Even without anxiety or depression, it’s an arduous, solitary, and sometimes thankless craft. But when the words flow from page to page and create a grand picture of what I see in my head and how I see it, it can’t be beat. After all the first and second drafts, after the edits and the beta readers, when you’ve sculpted the story down to its most straightforward, yet poetic and engaging, form, that’s where the joy lies for me. Regardless if I’m able to sell it or publish it somewhere, if I end up happy with it then that’s all that matters in the long run.

15. What is coming next for you?

Grim Death, probably…

But in all seriousness, I am working on finishing my first full-length novel. Tentatively titled White Island, it’s in the middle of its second draft. I’m hoping to get it done by summer the latest, then find it a good home.

Aside from that, I’m working on a short story for an anthology invite and I just had one short, “End Game,” accepted for the third book in an anthology series with a very reputable small press publisher. I’m hoping to make 2017 bend to my will on all fronts.

  You can connect with Doug Rinaldi here:

Website http://dougrinaldi.com

Amazon amazon.com/author/dougrinaldi

Facebook facebook.com/deviatedtruths

Blog dougrinaldiwriter.wordpress.com

Deviant Art Page goat-head.deviantart.com

  Some of Doug Rinaldi’s books:

Getting personal with Doug Rinaldi Doug Rinaldi has an amazing sense of humor and boy can he write a story. I recently read  A Different Kind of Slumber and let me say....WOW!

[voodoochili]

My Year in Music - Albums

You guys know how 2016 was an atrocious year that everybody hated and wanted to end months before it was over? Let’s revisit it so I can talk about some music I liked!

Thanks to the magic of Spotify Premium and the horror of the outside world, I listened to more new albums in 2016 than I ever have before in a single year. I was able to rank 50 albums worthy on putting of a best list, and I left out a ton that either did not make the cut or I haven’t spent enough time with. Yet it was such a fantastic year for music that I am sure there are plenty of excellent albums that I missed. While 2016 did not boast a singularly transcendent album like 2015′s To Pimp a Butterfly or 2014′s Black Messiah, it boasted a deep bench of excellent albums--an onslaught so overwhelming that my Spotify listening list nearly collapsed under its own digital weight. Anyway, enough jibber-jabber, here are the albums that stuck out to me as the cream of the crop (Yes, I left off Blonde on purpose).

Check ‘em out after the jump:

THE TOP 20:

20. Radiohead – A Moon Shaped Pool: A typically beautiful record from the world’s foremost paranoid androids, A Moon Shaped Pool is the first Radiohead album to fully integrate the arranging powers of guitarist Jonny Greenwood into the group’s sound. After spending much of the past decade as Paul Thomas Anderson’s go-to film scorer, Greenwood’s orchestral mastery nearly overtakes Thom Yorke’s falsetto as the record’s focal point. Marrying the glitchy electronics of the band’s early ‘00s output with soaring strings and minimalist piano, highlights like “Glass Eyes,” “Present Tense,” and “Daydreaming” stand up to the best material of the group’s career. The best moment of the record for me: finally hearing the impossibly sad studio version of “True Love Waits,” after spending nearly a decade obsessing over the live recording.

19. Beyoncé – Lemonade: In which pop culture’s most infallible figure opens up about her marital woes, enlisting the full power of some of the biggest names in the music industry to affirm her greatness. Lemonade is an album with towering singles (“Formation,” “Sorry”), but also a collection of spectacular moments, from the New Orleans-style horn rave-up at the beginning of “Daddy Lessons,” to the moment Jack White comes in at the chorus of “Don’t Hurt Yourself,” to her pained vocal runs towards the end of my favorite track, “All Night.” An audacious follow-up to the artistic and strategic brilliance of BEYONCÉ, Lemonade proves that Beyoncé will never simply rest in the limelight, but that she will forever use her station to empower, experiment and push music forward.

18. Isaiah Rashad – The Sun’s Tirade: “I got the music for the vibers,” chants Isaiah Rashad on “Rope/Rosegold,” and he’s not kidding. But it’s such a unique vibe, simultaneously laid-back and aggressive, with liquid, jazzy production that evokes the Dungeon Family at its most introspective. Isaiah invites us into his head, and whether he’s fighting off fans impatient with his long break between albums, reflecting on his nearly fatal battle with drugs and alcohol, or simply talking shit, his evocative pen and pronounced drawl bring out the best in each instrumental.

17. Kanye West – The Life of Pablo: Enough people have written enough about Kanye West in 2016, but here I go anyway. Whether or not the man has completely lost his rocker, he remains one of our greatest sonic architects. Each track on TLOP flows seamlessly into the next, building an exhilarating sense of forward momentum hurdling toward the tragic triptych of “FML.” “Real Friends,” and “Wolves” (keep Frank, I can take or leave Vic and Sia). If Kanye could just rein in his grossest impulses (I don’t need to hear about bleached anything, thank you very much), the album would place much higher on my list. Then again, if Kanye had any impulse control, he wouldn’t be Kanye, would he?

16. YG – Still Brazy: When YG emerged several years ago with “Toot It and Boot It,” who could have predicted that the charismatic, but seemingly- dunderheaded rapper from Compton could become one of our most reliable purveyors of political rage? A paranoid masterpiece of modern G-Funk with 4K production value, Still Brazy is a worthy follow up to My Krazy Life, my second favorite album of 2014. Still Brazy lacks the narrative cohesion of its predecessor, making up for it with a seething anger against the police, haters, the people who shot him outside his studio, and especially Donald Trump. We live in brazy times, and we’re lucky to have YG to give voice to our fear, confusion, and righteous fury.

15. Maxwell – blackSUMMERS’night: In a hype-driven, fast paced music industry that churns through artists as fast as it produces them, Maxwell works at his own pace. Released seven years after the confusingly titled BLACKsummers’night, Maxwell’s latest is a blissful oasis, a “Lake By The Ocean” if you will (you will!), tucked away from trends in mainstream urban music. Forever concerned with matters of the heart, Maxwell eschews the neo-soul of his early work. He refracts the sound grown-and-sexy icons from Seal to Sade, masterfully flexing his divine falsetto over liquid future-funk on “All The Ways Love Can Feel,” wallowing in bluesy murk on the epic “Lost,” and lamenting his devotion to an unfaithful lover on “Gods.” It’s been over two decades since Maxwell first introduced us to his Urban Hang Suite, yet Maxwell remains a unique and mysterious presence—one who lets his considerable talent speak for himself.

14. Shearwater – Jet Plane & Oxbow: Shearwater’s Jonathan Meiburg uses his intricately-crafted songs as bedrock for orchestral, ornate arrangements. Jet Plane & Oxbow finds Meiburg enlisting the services of composer Brian Reitzall (the man behind the original scores for Lost in Translation and the Friday Night Lights movie, among others) to create a tapestry of arresting synthetic sounds. Together, Meiburg, Reitzall and the band create a modern near-masterpiece of synth rock. Standout tracks include the gurgling, slowly-building “Backchannels,” the menacing bassline and disorienting orchestra of sound effects on “Filaments,” the Unforgettable Fire-style bombast of “Radio Silence,” and especially the gorgeous, generational power-ballad “Wildlife in America,” a soaring rumination on the seeming impossibility of the American dream.

13. Young Thug – JEFFERY: Possibly the most eccentric and enigmatic figure in the world of modern Hip-Hop (which is saying a lot), Young Thug’s decision to name his latest “mixtape” after his government name seemed to indicate a more personal approach to his art. Turns out, it didn’t really happen that way, with JEFFERY bringing the same gonzo melodies and glorious non-sequiturs of his previous releases. What’s new?: the dude levels the fuck up when it comes to his rhyming, especially on the opening and closing tracks. JEFFERY is a revealing look into Thugger’s mind and possibly into his artistic process. Each track on the tape is named after an influence or personal hero (and one named for “Harambe” because in order to be a meme, you have to be aware of memes I guess), and many of them consciously ape and inhabit the styles of the namesake. “Future Swag” imitates Future’s clipped, rhythmic cadence over a bouncing 808 Mafia production. “Wyclef Jean” is steeped in the music of the Caribbean, creating a thrilling hybrid of trap music and roots reggae. My favorite track on the project changes every day, but right now it’s probably “RiRi,” which boasts Jeffery’s most affecting, impassioned vocal to date. “IF YOU WANT IT YOU GOTTA EAAAAARN IT,” Thug barks (like a goddamn seal), and by God I think he’s earned it.

12. Field Music – Commontime: The long-standing project of brothers Peter and David Brewis, Field Music performs angular, fractured pop songs that often buck standard songwriting conventions. They have melodies for days, buried under addictive herky-jerk rhythms and droning keys. The result is a disorienting but addictive swirl of distinctly British art rock, echoing the dueling songwriter avant-pop of XTC, the fanciful working-class heroics of Roxy Music, and the pop adventurism of the Synchronicity-era Police. Commontime features some of the catchiest guitar-based music I heard all year, with the choruses from “The Noisy Days Are Over,” “Disappointed,” and “It’s a Good Thing” occupying a disproportionate amount of real estate in my cerebral cortex since January.

11. Danny Brown – Atrocity Exhibition: The dominant story in much of Hip-Hop is a rags-to-riches narrative, a triumphant tale from bricks to Billboards, from grams to Grammies, etcetera. Nobody in Hip-Hop, however, makes you feel the rags part of the story as deeply as Danny Brown. To Danny Brown, extreme poverty is not merely a life stage to overcome, but a trauma with aftershocks that never go away. “Some people think I think to much/I don’t think I think enough,” raps on “Rolling Stone.” His third straight classic since 2011’s XXX, Atrocity Exhibition, named after the discordant opening track to Joy Division’s notoriously bleak Closer, is a typically gritty expedition into Danny Brown’s consciousness, with outrageous punchlines counterweighting visceral depictions of debauchery and dark observations about his rough early life. Teaming up with production partner Paul White for 10 of the 15 tracks, Atrocity Exhibition finds Danny weaving his rhymes through an appealing industrial murk, equally reminiscent of RZA’s production on Liquid Swords and This Heat’s darkest sound collages. He soberly recalls his life as a low-level crack dealer on “Tell Me What I Don’t Know,” seethes a quiet despair on “Downward Spiral,” and frenetically proclaims his rhyming supremacy on “When It Rain.”

10. Chance The Rapper – Coloring Book: In 2016, Chance The Rapper finally shunted his label as the Next Big Thing to embrace his destiny as one of the Current Big Things. Few artists of any age, genre, or era can match his contagious exuberance, charisma, and skill. All of these attributes come out in full-force on Coloring Book, his third mixtape. Supercharged with gospel choirs, heavenly brass, and an assist from an assortment of music superstars and talented local friends, Coloring Book was a ray of light in a dark year. Coloring Book lacks much of the impish charm of Acid Rap, and trades much of that album’s social consciousness for earnest biblical pronouncements, but it radiates a special type of warmth and instills a sense of hope that I could not find elsewhere this year. I do not have the same relationship with God that Chance The Rapper does, but I can appreciate the way his spirituality informs his intense, infectious love for his friends, his family, and his infant daughter. The world is a better place for having Chance in it, and, remarkably, this is still just the beginning.

9. Cymbals Eat Guitars – Pretty Years: The best band to spring from Staten Island since the dawn of the Wu-Tang Clan, Pretty Years is the fourth and best album from Cymbals Eat Guitars. Long-time purveyors of surround sound shoegaze pop, this album finds the group demonstrating their songwriting chops, ranging from the hardcore stylings of “Beam,” to the Explosions in the Sky meets jangle-rock of “Have a Heart,” to the “Spirit in the Night”-esque saxophone stomp of “Wish”, to the titanic slow build of closer “Shrine.” On Pretty Years, the band embraces a more personal style of lyricism, writing songs about specific days and events. With producer John Congleton collecting the band’s ringing guitars and stampeding drums into a formidable explosion of sound, the epic expanse of the instrumentals combines with the specific and personal lyrics to illustrate the divine beauty of everyday life.

8. Kendrick Lamar – untitled unmastered: Though the songs that comprise untitled unmastered emerged from the To Pimp a Butterfly sessions, it does them a disservice to call them outtakes. They have no names, just numbers and dates, and they do not quite fit into the intricate TPAB narrative; but these songs, especially the four in the record’s incredible back half, are among his most musically adventurous and sharply written tracks to date. Less frenetic and more laid back than much of its parent album (the Thundercat basslines have more room to breathe, the strings and horns are sparing, but effective), untitled unmastered is a thought-provoking and often humorous reflection on Kendrick Lamar’s career and a meditation on a young black man’s position in society today. My favorite track: the swirling, gorgeously odd, Cee-Lo Green-assisted “untitled 06,” a triumphant ode to the artistic spirit.

7. Noname – Telefone: Noname is an inspiration, an old soul trapped in the body of a 25-year old rapper from the South Side. She rocks a conversational, poetic flow, rhyming about grief, violence in Chicago, and abortion with an earned wisdom and a feather-light touch, illuminating a perspective too often ignored in the media today. Produced by a cadre of fellow Chicago prodigies, including Saba, Phoelix, Cam O’bi, and Monte Booker, Telefone is one of the most beautiful albums I heard all year; warm, jazzy, and forward-thinking. Chiming bells and schoolyard xylophones intersect with steel drums, handclaps and sine waves, providing an ideal bedrock for Noname’s plainspoken wisdom: “When the sun is going down/and the dark is here to stay/I picture your smile/like it was Yesterday.”

6. Anderson .Paak – Malibu: After building his name the L.A. rap underground and finally breaking through on Dr. Dre’s Compton, Anderson .Paak introduced himself to a rapt national audience in 2016 with countless guest spots and two excellent albums. Anderson .Paak was probably my favorite live act of the year; a charismatic combination of James Brown and Clyde Stubblefield. I saw him in front of a good-sized crowd at a side stage Austin City Limits, leading his crackerjack group of Free Nationals as an energetic frontman and a virtuosic drummer. With Malibu, .Paak proves to be the rare superlative live act to fully translate his talent and energy to the recorded realm. Malibu is a summery slice of Anderson’s Southern California, blending funk, Hip-Hop, and R&B into a signature style, complete with an infectious half-sung/half-rapped delivery and a pro’s sense of songwriting classicism. The cascading chorus on “Heart Don’t Stand a Chance” is one of the soaring musical moments of the year, and Brian Cockerham’s bassline on “Come Down” transforms Hi-Tek’s unlikely sample of the Israeli national anthem into a funk monster. Joyful and endlessly replayable, Malibu is the ideal soundtrack to L.A.’s everlasting summer.

5. David Bowie – Blackstar: It is impossible to discuss Blackstar without mentioning this, so here it goes:

Blackstar is the final album from one of the most original and iconic artists of the past century, a goodbye letter to his fans that he recorded knowing full well that he might not live to see its release.

Bowie littered his lyrics with abstruse references to his impending demise, making an already haunting album even more profound. However, even if Bowie survived the year, the unapologetically strange and experimental Blackstar would rank among his greatest releases. The epic, atonal title track is one of Bowie’s masterstrokes, twisting through effortless tempo and mood shifts, accompanied by terrifying, yet often darkly funny lyrics. Bowie’s pitch black sense of humor also elevates “Lazarus” from maudlin to essential, as Donny McCaslin’s saxophone mournfully accents the artist’s depiction of his final days. Bowie’s final transmission to ground control is “I Can’t Give Everything Away,” a poignant, discordant ballad that illuminates Bowie’s single regret: that he will not be able to gift the world anymore art.

4. Schoolboy Q – Blank Face LP: 2016 was an amazing year for L.A. rap, and while Anderson .Paak, Kendrick, and YG released some of the year’s most exciting music, Schoolboy Q surpassed them all with the epic Blank Face LP. Working with many of the game’s brest producers (The Alchemist, DJ Dahi, Cardo, Tyler, The Creator, etc.) on this expansive, cohesive sound collage, Schoolboy Q snarls his way through 72 near-flawless (sorry “Overtime) minutes of straight gangster shit. Still a master of declarative, rhythmic hooks, Q refines his stream-of-consciousness verses, painting a gritty, and often terrifying, picture of Figueroa Street and South Central with humor, viciousness, and pathos. Blank Face boasts one of the year’s best basslines on the title track, two of the year’s broadest and best guest verses of the year in E-40’s “Dope Dealer” spot and Kanye’s batshit takeover of “THat Part,” and a convincing rap/rock hybrid on opener “TorcH.”

3. KING – We Are King: Bolstered by songwriting brilliance and gorgeous vocal harmonies, Los Angeles trio KING makes velvety, 1800-threadcount R&B. Comprised of sisters Paris and Amber Strother and “musical soulmate” Anita Bias, KING compiled extended mixes for five years worth of singles, plus some stellar original tracks, into We Are King, a powerful introductory statement. Theirs is a special brand of dreamlike soul, with genius-level chord progressions and angelic vocal harmonies, finished with a sumptuous production value. With its gentle groove and inviting lushness, We Are King is the perfect balm to melt away stress at the end of the day (it’s also a pretty decent hangover cure).

2. A Tribe Called Quest – We Got It From Here, Thank You For Your Service: When Phife died in March 2016, it seemed like a particularly cruel way for the story of A Tribe Called Quest to end. Little did we know that Q-Tip, Phife, and Ali Shaheed Muhammad had another trick up their sleeves. The fact that this album is exists--and is this amazing--is a miracle. The key, as always, is the interplay between Q-Tip and Phife. The two genius emcees bounce phrases off one another, finishing each other’s thoughts with witticisms and profound statements of truth. Jarobi White, formerly a glorified hypeman, makes us wonder why he didn’t rhyme on more tracks to begin with. The group dynamic extends to the guests such as Busta Rhymes, Consequence, Kendrick Lamar, and more, who seamlessly join Tip and Phife’s mindmeld for some of the best work of their careers. We Got It From Here… is the apotheosis of Tribe’s career, as the collective shows righteous anger towards racism and authoritarianism (“We The People,” “Conrad Tokyo”), sees hope in the future of music (“Dis Generation”), and, most touchingly, mourns the loss of their brother Phife Dawg (”Lost Somebody”). Despite the shadow of loss that hangs over the album, it’s a remarkably fun, engaging, and thought-provoking listen, and it was my most played album in the aftermath of the election.

1. Pinegrove – Cardinal:

“I’ll be sitting on the outskirts if you wanna talk about it/Things in there are getting so loud”

In a year when nearly every major pop and rap star released an album and some of the greatest artists of all time said goodbye, the album that hit me the hardest was a 30-minute debut by a modest band from my dad’s hometown of Montclair, NJ. The group, led by frontman/songwriter Evan Stephens Hall, mines a homespun blend of 00’s indie rock, emo, and alt-country—a nostalgic, yet novel approach, which when coupled with Hall’s voice creates a frisson that I felt from no other band this year. The eight songs on Cardinal twist and turn, avoiding traditional verse-chorus structure, instead building emotional peaks and valleys around Hall’s stories, dotted with pearls of matter-of-fact wit and wisdom. The centerpiece is “Aphasia,” a jaw-dropping feat of songwriting about the struggle to put feelings into words—it gradually builds up steam until it reaches a brilliant little song-within-a-song (!) and culminates with a cathartic guitar solo. “Aphasia,” and much of the rest of Cardinal, is so casually brilliant that it almost angers me, but hopefully there are many more moments like that in this young band’s future.

THE REST:

21. Kaytranada – 99.9% 22. The Avalanches – Wildflower 23. Terrace Martin – Velvet Portraits 24. BJ The Chicago Kid – In My Mind 25. Big Thief – Masterpiece 26. Ultimate Painting - Dusk 27. Skepta – Konnichiwa 28. Solange – A Seat at the Table 29. School of Seven Bells – SVIIB 30. Kevin Gates – Islah 31. Cass McCombs – Mangy Love 32. Jessy Lanza – Oh No 33. Underworld – Barbara Barbara We Face a Shining Future 34. Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith – Ears 35. Badbadnotgood - IV 36. Sturgill Simpson – A Sailor’s Guide to Earth 37. ANOHNI – Hopelessness 38. Leonard Cohen – You Want It Darker 39. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard – Nonagon Infinity 40. Crying – Beyond The Fleeting Gales 41. Leon Vynehall – Rojus 42. Mitski – Puberty 2 43. Saba – Bucket List Project 44. Joyce Manor – Cody 45. Black Mountain - IV 46. Kornel Kovacs – The Bells 47. Lambchop – FLOTUS 48. Japanese Breakfast – Psychopomp 49. Nao – For All We Know 50. D.R.A.M. – Big Baby D.R.A.M.