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alluringjae · 3 years

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all i do is wait - kdy

All I Do Is Wait | So Close

⤑ summary: one day, kim doyoung was alive. the next, he wasn’t. he left you and the world too soon, but he made a promise: to look out and wait for you until the very end.

⤑ pairing: doyoung x female reader

⤑ word count: 22.7k

⤑ genre: angst (so much longing), major slow burn, fluff (if you squint really well), slight unprotected smut (not my forté) | ghost!doyoung, hotel del luna!au, slight college!au, 40s to 90s!au (loads of flashbacks)

⤑ warnings: death, grief, explicit language, sexism (screw the patriarchy omfg), mentions and scenes of alcohol, drinking, smoking, war, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, and abortion, ghost possession of humans (in like one scene only tbh)

⤑ long author’s note: minors, beware of the warnings! i highly recommend you watch the kdrama beforehand so you would understand the universe, even if majority of the characters are from my imagination. i also did some prior historical research. though there are inaccuracies, this story is just fiction. importantly, i don’t own the hotel del luna series; they serve as the main inspiration but with some of my twists. i’m also bit rough with writing lately, so there’s also room for improvement. overall, prepare your heart.

i cried so much in the process.

italicized texts symbolize conversations in a dream call. *wink* *wink*

⤑ gif above not mine, ctto! leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

After all decades of waiting, it’s finally time.

As a soul still wandering in the living world, Doyoung’s options were limited. To peacefully go ahead into the afterlife or wait for his lover by working in the hotel for ghosts until she passed.

He’d chosen the latter, the betrayal he felt from the deities to have gone so soon.

And leave you behind.

But first, let’s take a trip down Doyoung’s journey; life, death, and after it.

1948

Kim Doyoung came from a well-off family. He was a university student, taking up journalism as a pre-law course. He wanted to right the wrongs and let justice prevail. Blessed by his privilege, he wanted to be of service to others who cannot afford it.

Both of you crossed paths at a university in Busan as seatmates. Right after the South Korean constitution granted women’s rights to education, immediately you aimed high and applied for the top universities in the city. After being homeschooled and self-studying under the books, the opportunity to go to an actual school was like a dream come true especially when you received acceptance letters from all of them.

Your first impression of him was that he was moody and quite snobby. When you politely asked him once if you can take a peek at his notes because you lost track of the professor’s lecture, he refused with an annoyed glare.

“You should try harder then.” You nodded in gratitude anyways, taking those words to encourage you. Though it still stung.

When classes that day concluded, you were so ready to return to the women’s dorm and take a breather from men. Since you were far from your village, maybe you would give a call to your father, your mentor all your life to seek his guidance on your professors’ lessons. Once you found your bike and placing your books on the basket in front, a light tap on your shoulder caught you off-guard and almost made you topple over.

“Oh, sh-”

“Oh my, I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

When you directed your body to the source, it was none other than Kim Doyoung. He removed his blazer from class, resting it on his arm. He wore these suspenders and leather loafers, sporting the rich, preppy boy look. His eyes looked softer, apologetic by the way he gave a slight pout.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was rude of me to shun you like that.”

Unfortunately, it was rare to find young men like him to own up to their mistakes When you’re the only woman in that class, the majority of the boys are either snickering with judgment at your presence.

“Women are only meant to stay at home.”

“She’s weak. She won’t last here with the deep, legal terminologies the professors use.” Those insults aren’t new to you.

Doyoung seemed like a plot twist in the social narrative. You were surprised, to say the least, yet relieved.

“Oh, it’s okay. Considering I interrupted you from listening to the professor, I could’ve waited after class or as you said, study harder.” You accepted.

Doyoung still felt awful for his attitude, fiddling his briefcase. He struggled to express himself through words, understanding why many had this impression of him being cold. If he were to be honest, his actual initial impression of you was that you were hardworking and resilient, setting a new example of the modern woman. He thought that being too soft on you in class may look degrading, thus his statement from the class was just him treating you the same way as other boys who don’t study hard enough. Unfortunately, it backfired completely.

As a man who grew up with the belief to always pay respect to everyone without discrimination, he had to make it up to you somehow.

“It’s still wrong of me to say that to you, (Y/N). So-” He trailed on, opening his case to bring out one of his notebooks. Without hesitating, he handed it to you. “I took as many notes from the lecture on fallacies here. If there’s any way I can help you in the future, I’m more than willing to help you.”

This newfound kindness from a boy in this patriarchal university may be the silver lining in your current stay. You weren’t too sure if you would get a chance like this in the coming years, so you gladly took it. Noticing the engraved “K.DY” on the lower right side of it, which were his initials, it’s easy to identify that he was rich. But his attitude was different than the others.

Placing it carefully in the front basket, you steadied your body to the handles and pedals of the bike. “Thank you for this, Doyoung. I will return it to you as soon as possible.”

Knowing he was of help to you, he flashed a gummy smile. “No problem, (Y/N). If you want, we can review it before class too just in case the professor gives another surprise quiz.”

You let out a laugh, being reminded of your horrified face on a previous surprise quiz in the past. “Oh god, I flunked that quiz! Damn him.”

Ever since that conversation, it’s where your friendship started.

Going to university became more enjoyable and less daunting, having Doyoung defend you from other boys (even if you’ve told him so many times that you can handle it). After you found out that Doyoung’s status was more elite than you assumed, a lot of boys wouldn’t want to try and test him since their family lines would be at risk. You had a better focus on your academics, and if it weren’t for you, other girls attending university with you would’ve never thought women students would befriend the men. You were the shift in the narrative.

As lucky as you are to have a female support system in the patriarchal university, you found yourself always hanging out with Doyoung. He was filled with so much compassion in his heart and there were beliefs that you both surprisingly shared in your conservative society, deepening your bond. One of them was the sexist view of women as low-status people. He told you one time that thinking that way is like thinking his loving mother is undeserving of things in life. It’s an unacceptable concept, he added. You even met his mother at some point, and she’s a sweetheart.

Another was having the frustration towards those who shame on women who want to study and learn rather than to submit to the power of men so early in their lives.

“I’m so sick of people telling me to stop studying and settle down with some random boy. There’s just so much to learn out here!” You complained. It was one hot weekend that time, and you were both relaxing under the shade of a big tree by a flowing river. That spot is hidden, thus claiming it as your spot. Doyoung leaned by the tree reading while you rested on his lap. At this point, you’ve grown very comfortable with him. Doyoung sighed, putting his book to discuss his thoughts.

“Agreed. You seriously deserve so much better, (Y/N). People today just don’t get it.”

Huffing away that stress, your head tilted to get a better view of Doyoung.

“Doyoung, do you think things will get better for women in the future?” He admired your hopefulness in times of trouble. Stroking your hair to soothe you, he gave a positive reply.

“If we keep fighting for it, then we’ll progress. So let’s not give up, okay?” Your heart couldn’t help but leap.

As he looked at you with blooming flowers from the tree in the background, it was a matter of time where your initial feelings for him diverted into something more. The concept of butterflies in your stomach was only introduced to Doyoung in novels, but he wondered if it’s the exact feeling he was getting from you. From your intelligence to your sharp tongue to fight back the rude boys, the list goes on all the traits that he liked about you.

Weeks later, the questionable status of your friendship changed after he unexpectedly kissed you for the first time while stargazing at your special spot. It caught you off guard at first as your lips froze, him pulling away immediately. He rubbed the nape of his neck out of embarrassment, struggling to maintain eye contact with you.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I screwed up everything, didn’t I?”

As much as the heat in your cheeks increased, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. You’re bold enough to do it again.

“Nope,” you shook your head at him. “Kiss me again, Doyoung.”

Like a movie, the first snow of the season drizzled down on the two of you.

Feeling braver, he leaned forward again to meet your lips again. You may not be experienced physically since it was your first, but that’s what all those romance novels you’ve browsed through are for. Forget the fireworks, people would compare the ideal kiss. It was more like everything paused so this moment can run on its momentum. Lips still locked, Doyoung gripped your waist so you can sit on his lap. As the friction intensified, his lungs needed to breathe for a second. Pulling away slowly, it was an opportunity to take a good look at you. Flustered, messy hair, swollen lips, he would’ve never known that the feelings were mutual.

“First kiss under the first snow? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

1950

Dating Doyoung gave you the best two years of your life. He’d bike with you to your spot, recommend you new books to read, cook for you when you’re too lazy to at the dorm, and take you around the city he was ever so familiar with.

“Oh c’mon, let’s try this out!”

You dragged his arm to this new contraption that can take your photos in a flash. This was at an annual city fair, your first time to attend one. Because your small village couldn’t cater to these kinds of events, you beamed with excitement with all the amusement outlets such as rides, games and more. All Doyoung wanted was to eat and play few games, then return. He wasn’t much for photos, but because it was your first, he decided to go for it. Two people couldn’t fit the cushion, so you settled on his lap. One arm wrapped behind his neck, you inserted a few coins to activate the machine.

“So we have a few seconds before it starts, so you better smile, okay?” He ordered you based on the instructions of the machine.

The first shot was matching grins, the second showed your bright smiles, the third let your creativity wild with silly expressions, and the last was him pecking your cheek unexpectedly. The authentic surprise was captured.

“Let’s take another one so you can have a copy.” You insisted, searching through the small pockets of your purse for more coins.

“(Y/N), it’s okay. I don’t want-” He was cut off by the machine activating again as your coins entered inside.

“Too late, smile!” The first shot almost caught Doyoung in a frenzy, but he pulled it off with an open smile. The second expressed your laughter from your slyness, him sporting crinkled eyes when you let your tongue out and placed your hands near the temples of your head to mock him. To sort out your playfulness, Doyoung surprised you by grabbing your wrists to place them back on his shoulders. Without a breath, one free hand tugged you closer and his lips shut you up. You deepened your kiss by leaning forward and fisting the hems of his buttoned-up top. Kissing back was natural, not caring where you were and if the camera snapped your moment of intimacy. Doyoung always liked taming you with his kisses. You didn’t mind making out for a bit in the booth if it weren’t for the loud knocking from the side put a stop to your risqué antics.

“Yah! Take your making out session someplace, other people are waiting outside!”

The both of you could care less, laughing mid-kissing at the disturbance you’ve caused. It’s a thing when you’re young and in love, perhaps. Eventually, innocent kisses ignited an invitation to his bed.

“I’ve never done this before, but I want to do it with you.” You gave your full consent, laying on his soft bed in your undergarments. His entire family went on vacation, so you took advantage of it.

The way he crawled on top of you, his slender hands spreading your legs wide open like another novel waiting to be unraveled. Erotica was a genre you never explored, but Doyoung finds it as his guilty pleasure. Who would’ve known that the most prestigious, gentleman-like man of the university found amusement in sex? His lingering touches intoxicated your entirety, allowing him access. His tongue did you wonders, releasing these sensations you’ve never known was possible. Tugging on his hair as he passionately devoured your core for the first time, this knot in your core unwound and your vision went white for a split second. This rush of pleasure and exhaustion filled your veins, yet you craved more.

That night, giving each other your virginities, marked the first time you declared your love for each other.

Though there are times when dating wasn’t easy either, having prying eyes around you with judgment and the unavoidable stress from university, you’d sort things out in the end. After all, it’s in fights and arguments where you learn more about each other and grow from it.

If someone asked you to settle down already, Doyoung is the first candidate for your hand. You’ve sent letters to your parents talking about him and met his family.

“You’re the only girl who softens him up in this society of uptight men.” His mother whispered when you helped her wash the dishes after dinner.

As much light he brought to your life those two years being together, it turned into the worst and something questionable when the Korean war began.

You vividly remember the day Doyoung admitted to you his enlistment in the South Korean army. It was mandatory for men his age to serve. His dream to pursue law was to be put on hold, especially when schools were closing down. Though he’d try to confide with himself that serving in this war is another way to help his country, his nationalism outweighed his fear of death. Just as long as it brings them closer to a better tomorrow, he was willing.

Unfortunately for you, you were terrified shitless because again, it’s a war. If your childhood wasn’t enough to recall all those painful emotions from the past world war, you didn’t know what would. Being able to survive is a miracle, so there was no way you would let Doyoung go. The ignorance you gave towards him to protect your heart, moving to your aunt and uncle’s home in the same city after the university suspended classes since going back to the village was a big struggle.

So many villages have been bombed already, increasing your anxiety. All you hoped now was to be reunited with your family safely. It’s a good thing though they already left as soon as they could and are on their way to the city. One normal day while you were teaching your younger cousins how to read, there was a knock on the front door. Since your aunt was busy cooking dinner, you took charge to open it in hopes you’ll find your family on the other side.

However, it was none other than that someone you still couldn’t face just yet. He wore the familiar dark green uniform with black combat boots, his fluffy hair fully shaved even it’s covered by his hat. By the dirt on his face, he must’ve trained earlier that day. With a heavy backpack behind him, he’s on his way somewhere but you didn’t know where. You closed the door behind you so you can speak to him privately.

“What are you doing here, Doyoung? How did you find me?”

“I knew you didn’t want to talk for a while, so I gave you space. But today, I found out that I’m going to be stationed in Seoul tomorrow.”

Seoul was where most of the war was happening. Your heart was shattered.

“So I went to your dorm, but your roommate told me you moved out and gave me this address here.” He answered honestly with this new burden to top it off, not having the courage to look you in the eyes to avoid crying. “I needed to see you, (Y/N).”

“Doyoung,” within those times of separation, you re-evaluated if running away from him was the right choice. Even if he tried to convince you of the good things about being in the army, everything always comes at a price. War meant his life was uncertain daily. You just wanted him to yourself, to stay by your side, to help out in the war in other ways, but it would be selfish to stop him from his goals. So you gently embraced him, making him drop his bag to the side. With extreme fear comes your soft whimpers against his chest. Rather than running away so fast, you should’ve mustered all those remaining bits of courage to spend it with him. He must be feeling terrified too.

“I’m just scared for you. War doesn’t guarantee anything. Us surviving world war two is still miraculous.” Doyoung winced at your truthful words as he returned that embrace. There go his tears that he shed almost every night since he told you about his enlistment.

“I had no choice, (Y/N). My family and I would be in big trouble if I didn’t follow orders.”

“I know. I’m sorry I ran away, Doyoung.” You continued to sob as you feel him stroke your hair from behind. He knew well that it was one way to calm you down.

“If only we didn’t live in harsh times like this.” He sighed, longing for the same thing. He cursed whoever decided to make him exist during a painful time. He would trade anything for a more peaceful life.

“Stay here for the night, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to waste any more time.

Your relatives were aware of your relationship, allowing such a request. They trusted you enough to sleep in the same room, knowing all too well the struggles of being love during times like this.

Neither of you held back from the tension that crept into the room. This time, you led him through the first kiss while his body laid flat on the cushion bed. On top, straddling him fully. Leaving him soft kisses on his neck while teasingly unbuttoning his pajama shirt, your fervent lips trailed from his neck, lowering to his sculpted abdomen, until you reached the waistband of his pajama pants.

Only in books did you learn about how to please men, so this may be the only time you can test it out. Doyoung stiffened on your soft kisses on his hard-clothed member, glancing him seductively back and forth when you stuck out your tongue.

“Please,” He begged, tugging on your hair. “Touch me.”

Your lips wrapped around his tip before gently going lower to your limit, and slowly sucked on it back and forth. Whenever you’d want to catch a breathe, you’d lick the tip teasingly. Doyoung groaned, threading his fingers along with your hair. He’s so used to be a giver that receiving these sensations by you beats his hand. It was heavenly, yet so vulgar. The way you swallowed his cum rather than spitting it out even if the taste wasn’t favorable, you were too much in a daze to process how sudden he switched positions. While you sprawled devilishly under him, your fingers looping on his dog tag necklace to bring him lower for a kiss while feeling two of his fingers go under your panties to teasingly play with your slick.

“Don’t t-tease...” You stuttered, clenching at how fast he can get you stimulated with his fingers.

The whole night long was consumed with his body against yours, the wet sounds of deep thrusts and muffled moans praising each other. The following morning, your naked bodies remained entangled. He was still in deep slumber when your body clock alarms you to wake up. though you couldn’t move when he had his arm around you. The love marks on his chest that you’ve made were more exposed when the sunlight hits him, your fingers carefully trailing on it so he wouldn’t be startled. He needed all the rest he can get.

If only you can have mornings like this when war wasn’t in the equation.

Bidding goodbye was tough. Breakfast was too quiet, just like how he packed his remaining belongings and dressed back to his uniform. You watched him by the patio as he waited for the bus to pick him up. When one finally arrived, he turned around to face you once more. He understood that neither of you wanted to say anything. It would make things harder.

You had to stay strong for him because he was fighting the scarier people. But as he waved goodbye, this was your only exception. Just before he boarded the bus,

“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself, running to him as your life depended on it.

“(Y/N), what are you-” Doyoung stopped at his tracks, awaiting your sudden move. You shut him up by desperately placing your lips against his, having that a tiny sliver of hope that it won’t be your last. His hands cradled your face while your arms tangled behind his neck.

It wasn’t until the annoyed coughs from the bus driver stopped your actions. Patting your dress from crinkling, Doyoung left a kiss on your forehead.

“Wait for me, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.” He reassured you.

“Fight strong and stay alive, Doyoung. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” He caressed your cheek one last time, your hand cupping it.

“I love you too, Doyoung.”

Both of you made sure to write to each other, just anything to keep in touch from being apart.

Oh, if only you knew how long you’d have to wait before seeing each other again.

1951

Doyoung was stationed in the infantry division, always staying prepared for the plans his side made and the active attacks started from the enemy side. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten critically injured and knocked out, but he fought through it with his upcoming plans in mind. How he must fight for the country and stay alive to see the change. How he wanted to have a future with you when everything settles down. It was his motivation every time.

But it took one surprise attack many months later from the enemy side to take it all away. When one of the senior officers was shot, he shielded him without hesitation. All these firing bullets were shot on his back, his legs wobbling from the impact. Due to the non-stop bleeding and lack of urgent medical attention, he painfully lost his life while holding on to his officer.

“Please tell my lover that I love her and I’m sorry.”

Those were his last words before he took one final breath and flatlined.

Seconds later, his soul flowed outside his body and froze at the trippy feeling while witnessing different officers and people on the medic team mourn in front of his dead body. Taeyong, one of the people he befriended from the medic team, tried to wake him repeatedly.

“Doyoung, please don’t joke around. Wake up, please.”

Even if he knew it was hopeless, he did his best to the point his entire team had to pull him away from his best friend’s lifeless body.

“No, he needs to live! He has a family, big dreams, and a girl waiting back in Busan!” He sobbed in his chest. Out of all the people he tried to resuscitate, Doyoung was the first friend that he came across on this occasion. Doyoung ached at this vulnerable sight, wanting so badly to be by his side. With these surprise attacks, death is more prevalent than ever.

“Kim Doyoung?” An unfamiliar voice called for him from behind. He spun around to find one woman in war uniform, though he’s never encountered her in the field, and a man in all black.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Manwol, and he’s the grim reaper. I believe you just died a few minutes ago, correct?”

The truth was piercing to accept, glancing at his lifeless body on the side with Taeyong and another close friend he made, Jungwoo, crying his heart out.

“Are you going to take me already?” He asked.

“Unless you still have things you want to accomplish in the living world, then you can freely go to the other side.” The grim reaper answered monotonously, very much used to this question.

“From the looks of it, you have a lot you want to do still,” Manwol observed from afar, all too familiar with the feeling. “If you come with us, I can help you accomplish them.”

If something stayed with Doyoung until his last breath, it was his skepticism with the supernatural. He was unsure if he can trust them because according to the books, once you’re dead, that’s it. It’s up to the people around him to speak good or bad of him.

“You’re uncertain with our intentions, aren’t you?” Manwol easily read through his stoic expression. “You’ll be surprised with how many things can debunk from the books if you let us, Doyoung.”

For the first time, Doyoung had no clue what and where to go next. No one wrote a book on how to act like a cold, wandering soul. His dreams were limited, meaning he has to find new ones or tweak them a lot to make it possible. Despite her reserved nature, he figured that Manwol looked like someone who knows what she’s talking about. With the grim reaper he’s read in children’s books, he wasn’t as frightening as he was portrayed.

This was his last shot.

“Guide me, please.”

The car ride alone there was messy and bumpy since it was peak war season. He wasn’t the only person who lost their life that night and riding in the vehicle. He recognized a few of them. It was saddening to find the playful Donghyuck, his youngest companion, beside him.

“I sacrificed myself to protect two unarmed nurses in the medic tent when some enemy soldiers charged inside.”

Another was the wise Taeil, who was stationed by the barracks. He was one of the people in the front of in line for battle.

“I thought they were fooling with us, and then suddenly fired multiple attacks. I caught on to it quickly, but they still got me.”

Doyoung remembered all those times he used to ask for love advice from him when it grew hard to be far from you. But that advice is no longer useful when he’s further away from you. He was dead, you weren’t.

Once the three of them arrived at their destination, it was an inn that looked destroyed from the outside, but very organized on the inside. Donghyuck and Taeil decided already what they wanted to do before they cross the other side. Doyoung, on the other hand, was still contemplating.

Manwol knew well how to spot a heartbroken person, being one herself. She wasn’t one to interfere with these affairs, but maybe she’d make an exception. Seeing right through him, he lived a fruitful life. She saw his sacrifice, picking up on his last words being dedicated for you, his lover. He didn’t die in vain.

When the two men were off to follow their plans, Manwol took this chance to approach the downcast man again.

“Is something you holding you back from going…” She questioned, staying by his side for a moment. “…or a special someone?”

“I promised my lover to fight strong and to stay alive while she promised to keep waiting for me. But here I am. She has yet to know that I didn’t make it and I can’t bear to see her in utter pain.”

“Death during a war isn’t new, Doyoung. A lot of promises become broken.”

“But I had so much I wanted to do with her after, Manwol. I can’t just leave her yet, I want to stay by her side even if we can’t see each other physically.”

Based on the information Manwol received about Doyoung from the inn staff, it came to her attention that he was fond of books. Thus, it gave her an idea.

“Doyoung, you’re very similar to the staff here. They all have goals that take years to accomplish, so I gave them a job here.”

“What are you offering me then, Manwol?”

“I have a library here in dire need of a librarian. With your interest in books, would you like to take it? After all, I’m implying that you’d want to wait for your lover to make up for your broken promise.”

Doyoung can’t deny that she was wrong. This was where his journey at Manwol Inn (then became Hotel Del Luna) started. Time worked a little bit differently as a ghost, but it’ll be worth it until you return in his arms one day.

On the day you regrettably received the letter from the military about the tragedy, life has turned for the worst. Upon seeing a soldier by your front step, it was only an innocent habit to give him letters for Doyoung and receiving new ones. However, his hand halted you to hand over a military logo imprinted envelope addressed to you alongside his tidy military uniform other letters from Doyoung.

His last letters.

You had no courage to even complete reading it when the first few lines weren’t enough to taunt you. Nothing could prepare for this dreaded moment.

“We regret to inform you that a report from the war office has confirmed that Kim Doyoung was a casualty of the sudden attack of Seoul. this letter formally declares that he was killed in action....”

Dropping the god-forsaken letter in your hands, you instantly locked yourself in your room. Your parents, who picked it up to read, came running to your door and tediously knocking for you to open it. But you didn’t listen, the heartbreak being too grave.

You tried so hard to keep it together these past months. but this kind of grief resulted in your feeble figure pouring into a heap of salty tears and loud sobs. Your back against the wall smoothly slid down until your butt landed on the floor. You clutched on to your gut that continuously stabbed you back and forth.

Betrayal was an understatement, yet it was beyond his control. War guarantees nothing.

But not when you needed him more than ever, especially when the biggest yet most unexpected news came upon you. All nausea and wild mood swings in the weeks that followed after he left weren’t normal, only to find out that you were expecting his child.

It was a secret you didn’t know how to confront through letters because it was best to tell him in person. Due to the situation, it was impossible. Only in your latest letter did you finally come clean about it, but it was now never to be sent because he has already passed away. Your entire family wasn’t pleased with this outcome but they didn’t shame you for it either. It was your choice and body after all.

They were concerned about how others will perceive you in the long run. An unmarried woman carrying a dead man’s child is taboo in this conservative society. Yet abortion is seen in a bad light too. You were stuck in a double edge sword, but you knew from the beginning that you wanted to keep the child. It’s a struggle, for sure, and your plans will have to wait.

Amid this bad luck, this unborn child is the last closest piece of Doyoung.

Amongst your unavoidable flow of tears that you knew must be stopped so it wouldn’t badly affect your child, you placed a hand on top of your lower belly. There was already an evident swelling bump, but your choice to continue wearing loose clothing to swerve from the public’s judgment covered it fine.

Well, for now. Only in the last trimester, it was going to be a challenge.

“I’m sorry you won’t be meet your father....” You spoke, rubbing it upwards. “....But I’ll make sure to take good care of you. You’re all I have left of him.”

Ever since Doyoung accepted Manwol’s offer, he never left his spot at the library. He was amazed at the endless arrangements of books. Even the western books his parents banned him from reading as a child were there. All this entertainment can distract from the long time he has to wait.

Except for today specifically, he asked Jeno, a new friend he made who also lost his life during the Korean war, to take over for a few hours when he found out that mail was to be delivered in Busan.

“Hyung, are you sure?”

“I just need to see her, Jeno.”

Doyoung expected the heartache when he saw you cry in your bedroom after finding out, and he couldn’t refrain from crying with you. Even as a soul, he’d do anything to cradle you in his arms and say that things will get better in time. How he wanted to tell you to take your time in life and that he’s willing to wait until your time comes. Whenever it could be.

Sadly, he was right there listening to you talk to your unborn child. The disbelief of in his reaction; he was supposed to be a father. Sure, he was relatively young. People won’t approve of it because you were unmarried. But it was an early start to settling down with each other.

It took him a while to accept his unfortunate fate, but for him to be robbed of this meaningful part in life was more unbearable to deal with.

From that point, he made sure to watch over you even if he was invisible. Even if Manwol advised him not to so it won’t complicate anything, he reassured that he has it under control. As a ghost without any grudges, what’s there to throw a fit at? He could retaliate at the enemy soldiers who shot him fearlessly, but they are nowhere to be found and he had no interest to turn into ashes.

The only time he assisted you was when you were giving birth. It was an excruciating process, sweating and breathing intensely. You let a scream every time you pushed, like any of the herbs or medications you consumed were wearing off. Your body wanted to give up as it weakened at the loss of blood.

Childbirth is no joke, having high mortality rates during these times. It was a tempting choice you’d want to take as Doyoung is no longer alive. But you knew it was selfish to leave your child as an orphan.

Doyoung couldn’t withstand watching you struggle anymore. If there was a trick Manwol taught him, it was to possess people. It’s often portrayed as a negative skill, warning him to only use it when it’s an emergency.

The pitiful way your eyes were drained off energy, he had to step in. Observing the midwife panicking on your side even if she was giving you support, he took his chance to possess her. Adjusting to this body, it made him glad to feel your warm hand again.

“(Y/N), your child is almost here.” The doctor positively announced.

“I want a breather. The grim reaper should just take me.” You complained as your mother wiped the endless drops of sweat on your forehead. Doyoung took it to heart, knowing death firsthand was no joke.

“Yah, don’t say stuff like that, (Y/N). This child is bound to be an amazing addition to your life.”

You didn’t know how your timid midwife would straighten you up, but it motivated you a lot more to finish the process. Little did you know.

She gladly accepted your firm grips on her hand, giving affirmative responses to keep you going. In moments you closed your eyes to push, you couldn’t help notice in the corner of your eye how from the physique of your midwife, you swore you saw him. His hand holding yours instead of the midwife.

Was this in the medication? For a moment, you let a tear not from pain but from happiness to catch a glimpse of him in your weakest moment. Every day, you were missing him.

It took almost half an hour before a small set of wails bore in the room while you harshly threw yourself back in the bed to recover your breathing patterns. It knocked you out for a while. Doyoung, still possessing the midwife, was handed the newborn by the doctor and tasked to clean her up.

“It’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor confirmed as he wiped away the blood on the floor.

He was then brought by your mother to a designated room to bathe the relaxed newborn in his arms.

His newborn.

His desire to phase out of the midwife and use his skill to be visible while holding his child was strong. But it’s too risky since the midwife can catch him. He sucked it up and proceeded in what the books taught him on bathing a baby. During his break time, he’d read all the parenting books he could find. It’ll be rare anyways for him to use the tips, but he always wanted to stay prepared.

As the bubbles of the soap surrounded the relaxed baby, he washed her delicately to avoid her from waking up. He was just mesmerized at how you and he created something so precious. He used to be the type of man to be awkward around kids, but after catering to many children in the library and now his child, it started to change.

“Hello there, little one. Your mother needs you, so you better be good to her.”

Ghosts were highly discouraged to make any more emotional connections with the living because they’ll just end up being hurt, making it harder to move on. Exactly what Doyoung is doing was that, and the more he bonded with his daughter, it was a rekindled kind of pain. The kind when you separate family from each other. The same one he felt when he bid his parents good-bye before joining the war, only to never come back.

To top this off, the tiny hand of his sleeping daughter, whom he finally dried off with a small towel and wrapped in a fresh blanket, sleepily grasped on his pinky finger. Technically, it was the midwife’s, but he was in control.

Nonetheless, the innocent gesture got him both feeling on top of the moon and disheartened at the same time. As he curled it in a silly manner, noticing the size difference, he leaned down to leave a kiss on top of her forehead.

“I’m sorry I’m going to miss out on your life. But I’ll always be here for you, even if I’m in the shadows. Don’t ever question my love for you. Because I do love you, wholeheartedly.”

Kim Areum.

That was the name you settled with when your daughter was finally in your arms. It’s ideal to give Doyoung’s last name too because she is half of him. After resting for quite a while, you noticed how the midwife suddenly shook her body and took a loud deep breath when she helped out cleaning the area up.

“Are you okay?” You question, noticing her state of confusion.

“Uhm, yeah....” She narrowed her eyes to her environment. “Oh wait, you gave birth already? Wow, that was pretty fast...”

“Yes, you were right beside me the whole time...” You glanced sideways at her, suspicious.

“Oh wow yeah, I was.” She tried to laugh it off. “It was like I had an out-of-this-world moment or something. Oh whatever, I sound stupid.”

That brought you back to your early doubts. Whether or not he showed up or you were somewhat hallucinating. But not wanting to reflect too much on the impossible, you merely refocused to the peaceful newborn nestled in your arms.

She’s the only one keeping you alive in these hard times. She served as a reminder of him, thus you’ll hold on to her. From the outside of your window, all Doyoung can do now is to continue watching from afar every once in a while.

1954

Not much has changed in the past few years. You were either reading or taking care of Areum. Your family was lucky enough to have good housing, but getting important necessities such as water and food was a constant struggle.

With the war leading to lots of souls in the inn, he had to fulfill his mandatory orders to prepare souls to move on. He was joyful to be of service to others like he was back in the day.

Though lately, it’s still unavoidable for him to ponder how exactly are you and his daughter are doing. Once Donghyuck and Taeil went ahead for the afterlife, the loneliness began to creep in. Then a while ago, Jeno introduced him to a new group of children today checking out the library. Caught in a deadly car accident on their way home from school, he pitied how such bright kids left the world too soon.

These factors sparked his longing, plus there was still something above that: it was your birthday soon. Much to his luck, Manwol just received a new gift from the deities that might be his biggest help in coping.

“A dream call?” Doyoung inquired once he was summoned by Manwol to the meeting room, sitting across her.

“Yes, a call to anyone from the living that you wish to talk to in their dreams. Though this can only be used once per visitor. The deities pitied those with loved ones who want to see them physically. Thus, they invented this.”

“What are you implying?”

“Doyoung, you know well how easy I can read people even through their fake smiles. You miss her very much.” Manwol replied, holding up the phone to his ear. “This is your chance, Doyoung. Even if you can’t see them, they will see you.”

The first dream started with you sitting at your old spot by the river, in a simple dress Doyoung bought for you on your last ever birthday celebration with him. The forest looked breathtaking as if it was still pre-war times again. The river was still clear of blood and pollution. It must be spring, the flowers above you on the tree were in full bloom.

The sound of bike wheels stopping to park in the grass and someone humming changed your point of interest. There was the only person in your mind who would do that. Jumping from your seated position, you looked behind the other side of the tree only to find him picking up flowers from the branches. He was tall, not having much difficulty getting them.

The way he looked so peaceful and well-rested. This beauty and peace of mind he radiated, it was unreal.

“Doyoung.”

He clenched on the phone with his hand, his concealed yearning to at least hear his name on your lips again urged a tear to go down his cheek.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

He handed you the flower bouquet he made for you. Meanwhile, he suddenly dropped it when you didn’t hesitate to sling your arms around his waist. Your head pressed to his chest, pulling him closer you could care less if you lost your breath. Doyoung felt that tight hug, gripping on the part of his uniform where you placed your head. He rubbed it as if it was your hair.

None of you spoke a word and gracefully paused to take a moment.

Time in a dream call works a bit differently than in the living world. Once you’re in session, one minute alone of talking is equivalent to 30 minutes in the living world.

Doyoung took his first call to catch up with you and say everything he never got to before. It was also where he confessed how he knew about your daughter. There were guilt and regret at how you could’ve told him in your earlier letters.

“You were scared, (Y/N). There’s no way I can blame you.” Laying against his chest, he comforted you. “By the way, she has your nose, you know.”

There was this wave of relief that splashed you after this big burden lifted. You can live a more untroubled life now.

“She has your temper though.” You jokingly say, putting you in a fit of giggles. It’s been too long since you experienced genuine humor.

“At age 3? Yah, I’m impressed.” He remarked with pride.

Since Doyoung wasn’t capable to be physically affectionate in the dreams, he was more on receiving them from you. In return, he gave sincere conversations even if they were a yearly thing. Talking about your daughter was one of your favorite topics. adolescence, teenage years, to university, there was so much to talk about. Doyoung would only use his dream calls on you on your birthday, making them more meaningful. Each one, you were both back to your twenties with different outfits and settings based on the differing decades.

“Don’t you feel burdened to wait for me?” You asked as his fingers brushed some of your hair back while you watched the sunset from a wooden bench.

“No, I’m not. there are still many things I want to fulfill before moving on. I also want to watch Areum grow up and help you in any possible. Only when these goals of mine and others are cleared, then I‘ll be able to rest well.”

“Will you be okay until then, Doyoung?”

“I broke a promise with you, (Y/N). and I want to make up for it.”

“What will you do when my time comes?” Your hand interlocked with his, squeezing it tight even if he couldn’t reciprocate it.

“I will shout out your name and hug you tight, my love. But until then, appreciate your life. Live it to its fullest. For me.”

Doyoung sensed your worry but comforted you that it’ll be okay. He wasn’t lying either when he said he wanted to do a lot of things too. Every dream call, his gut feelings were strong to know what you were going through in every call, giving you any advice to get you through them.

To count, he gave you almost 50 dream calls.

The late 1950s-1960s

After returning to university to finish your undergraduate studies when the war ended, you continued to pursue law school and taking the exams as you’ve wanted. But this meant moving to Seoul for better opportunities.

Doyoung celebrated with himself when he found out, not having to take the bus or ride the hotel car to Busan every time he wanted to see you two. Now, he could simply walk back and forth, managing it with his shifts.

Currently, he was taking a break in his office. The deities gifted him with a bunch of murder mystery books from the West, fully immersed in the storylines. Leaning backward from his chair, he was abruptly disconnected by a knock on his open door.

“Hyung, you have a special visitor in the lobby.” Jeno urgently informed Doyoung as he leaned on the side of his office door, out of breath. “It’s quite important if you ask me.”

Doyoung removed his reading glasses and put down his novel. Putting back his blazer on, he approached his younger friend and made their way down the hallway together hastily.

“Is it a family member who’s passed?” He questioned, slightly folding his blazer sleeves then adjusting the hotel pin on his chest pocket. By the tone Jeno spoke, it must’ve been serious. Although there’s no way it can be you just yet, he has no idea who was looking for him then.

The lobby was bustling with numerous souls. Some still fresh, some just roaming around, while others were preparing to pass the other side. Nothing new to it, until Jeno pointed out a specific scene in one corner of the room.

“Hyung, over there.”

Like an obedient puppy, Doyoung looked over to where Jeno’s finger directed. At first glance, by her long black hair, he recognized Manwol, who was kneeling in front of someone seated. It wasn’t until she stood up and shifted her body to the side to reveal that someone, patting her young head kindly.

She wore a ribbon on her hair, matching with the colors of her floral dress while carefully holding on to a piece of paper with her drawing. Due to the distance, he couldn’t make out what she drew. Though with her dazzling eye smile formed by her small eyes, he knew her too well.

“Areum.”

Right on cue, the young girl caught his entrancing gaze. With the widest smile, she exclaimed “Daddy!”

Manwol, who was right beside her, held her hand and graced their way to Doyoung and Jeno. The two knew she despised children, ordering them to keep a keener eye on them when they wander around so they don’t access the hallway leading to her office. Unexpectedly, Areum didn’t burden her the slightest. She brought a different aura, a very pure and full of love kind.

With the full moon shining at its peak, becoming present to the eyes of the living, she must’ve spotted the hotel from afar and her interest grew wild for it. Typical for girls her age. Not afraid of the risks, she followed any directions to get here. Coincidentally, she encountered Manwol in the front gate.

Manwol recognized her straight away, even when she glimpsed the drawing of her family she treasured in her chest. She still included her father, whom she was very much acquainted with. Though, she was puzzled by her sudden appearance. When Areum explained that her father lived in the hotel according to your stories, her heart fell to her gut. Indeed, she was right, but again, ghosts are discouraged to have connections with the living or anything related to it. However, her strong senses couldn’t disregard how much Doyoung yearned for his family. Lately, his only daughter when numerous children arrived at the hotel. He didn’t want to voice it out however because the other staff shared the same sentiments, so it would be insensitive so he just kept it to himself. But Manwol sensed it all too well.

She won’t tell anyone this, but she has quite a soft spot for Doyoung. She empathized with him the most since he came to the hotel, willing to do what it takes to make his coping and waiting worthwhile. She was still brash at times, but only when necessary.

Areum’s presence didn’t seem to harm anyone, charming anyone around with a smile and her words. Especially that smile, it shows enough of how much she’s Doyoung’s daughter. With a rough internal debate, Manwol welcomed her inside the magical hotel Areum described it as and tasked Jeno to call for Doyoung. It was a risk, but a needed one.

With Manwol innocently holding the young girl’s hand, she looked her down and asked her, “Is that your father from your drawing, Areum?”

Areum lit up as she tilted her head upwards to see her tall father, nodding proudly. “Yes, that’s him! The one my mom talks about in her dreams too!”

Doyoung’s heart swelled at her pride for him, not hesitating to kneel to her height. Arms wide open, he loudly called her out for the first time. “Areum!”

The young girl, letting go of Manwol’s hand, ran as fast as her short legs could like nothing can stop her, even if the lobby was packed. Soon enough, she’s at the grasp of her father, carrying and hugging her in circles. Light as a feather, he took in her scent and warmth. The racing beat of her heart pulsated against his chest, reminding how much life she’s filled with. It was liberating that she found him, even when he stood behind the dark shadows.

Once he put her back down, “What brings you here, Areum? Isn’t it past your bedtime already?”

She pouted, sulking at disobeying your rules. “I know, but as soon as I was ready for bed, I saw the hotel in bright lights just like mommy described. She said that only during the peak full moon it’ll be shown to very special people who are alive, and it turns out that I’m one of them, daddy.”

Hearing that title from her lips was something he would’ve never get sick of. He felt the validity more than ever.

The odds of being a human spotting the hotel during peak full moon was rare, earning perplexed looks by those who don’t see it. Doyoung never encountered a human waltzing in the hotel out of the bloom, so for his daughter to have this mystical ability was a gift in disguise. Maybe the deities knew how to cut off some slack and agony for wandering souls. This was an excuse to stop cursing them now and then.

“Wow, aren’t you a lucky girl for that?” Jeno, whom he forgot was by his side, patted her head similarly to Manwol. “Your father missed you dearly, you know?”

“Well, Mr. Jeno,” She picked up his name from his nametag. “I missed him too.”

Doyoung processed the features of the angelic girl in front of him, astonished at how you and he created someone so cheerful during a time of trouble. Aside from her eye smile, she had his gummy smile and curiosity, while she inherited your nose and intelligence. Cupping her chubby cheek, he pinched it with a cute sound effect from his mouth.

“Daddy!” She protested, slapping his hand away and dramatically covered her reddening cheek. “Not allowed to that, ever.”

Oh, you weren’t joking when you said she had his temper too.

Before he could defend himself, Manwol reentered their interaction. Like common sense, Doyoung got back on his feet but helplessly giving side glances to his daughter. Manwol giggled at his sudden formality before instructing Jeno to lead Areum to the carnival room. As Areum waves him goodbye for the meantime, Manwol added on.

“There’s a rise of kids checking in the hotel, unfortunately, so I wholeheartedly requested the deities to create an area dedicated for child-like fun. Just today, it’s finished in construction so it’s a great place for Areum to explore.”

“Manwol, I-” He was feeling overwhelmed, stumbling his words. “Why did you this for me?”

“You used your dream calls for (Y/N), but there’s never been a way for you to reach out to your daughter. And the way her glimmering eyes wanted to come in when she shouldn’t, I couldn’t refuse a chance for the two to reunite.”

“But what about the deities?”

“I’ll handle it. What matters is that you have tonight to spend with Areum. It’s the least thing I could do as you are one of my beloved staff,” She reassured, yet looked at him in a downcast manner. “But as much as possible, everything tonight must feel like a vivid dream to her. She’s not allowed to keep any knick-knacks from tonight either.”

Everything always came at a price. Doyoung was acquainted well enough, but he can’t lie to say that I didn’t ache. Nonetheless, Manwol having such a selfless side was completely new to him. That’s why he never asked for favors like the other staff since he’ll just get turned down or scolded like a child. Maybe she wasn’t as scary as to how they labeled her all these years he’s worked for her.

Manwol took Doyoung’s silence under the impression of internal conflict. In true Manwol fashion, she clapped her hands right in front of his visage, snatching him back to reality. “You’re wasting time, Doyoung! Don’t think about it too much right now. Now come on and dress up more casually, your daughter is waiting for you.”

Following her order, he bowed respectfully before zooming to his hotel room. She was right, he has to enjoy whatever is given. Demanding for more when you’re already dead is disrespectful to the eyes of the deities, considering that alongside your past life when you step into the afterlife.

From his uniform, he changed into a white long sleeve buttoned-up, which was layered under a lilac knit sweater, and black trousers. He styled his hair in a dandier way, applying gel then combing it upwards. He was only following the trends of the decade, basing it on the recently checked-in souls. Deities must’ve liked him a lot to give him a lot of gifts from time to time, making him completely disregard the money from the living world Manwol gives during his off days. Most of the time, his off days are spent either secretly observing you and your daughter, or reading more books in the library.

This one was like a change of scenery, his heart pumping once he exited to the elevator and rushed to the carnival room. And just as he entered the doors, the wave of nostalgia hit him instantaneously. It felt like he was in university again, bringing you around the bizarre contraptions and games for the first time for your amusement. A spark in your romance, so full of young love and naivety of what was to come.

He spotted his young girl wrapped around in the arms of Jeno, explaining to her about the wide range of rides as she licked on a rainbow lollipop. Once he showed up to the both of them, Jeno cautiously put her down so she can hold Doyoung’s hand.

“You deserve this, hyung. Make it worthwhile.” Jeno placed his hand on his older friend’s shoulder before leaving the room. Keeping it in mind, Doyoung kneeled again in front of his daughter. Her smiles were contagious, fascinated by everything she’s surrounded in.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, daddy.” That line sounded familiar, chuckling at the precious memory.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have fun tonight!”

The bliss in tonight was never-ending, like the two of them were in their own world. Areum wanted to ride on a horse in a carousel first, which Doyoung agreed to. Lifting her, he held her by the waist as the ride started to go. She pointed out every object that she can see while Doyoung avidly listened, then telling her what each ride and game consists of in return.

Once they got off, her short legs scurried off to the game booth where rows of bottles were laid in front of her. Right beside her were the rings. Doyoung properly described the instructions, and on the dot, Areum went ham and started throwing the rings in random directions. By the way, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, her competitive side was evident. Doyoung observed as she either hit or miss, finding another trait of his in her.

You’d find it hard to believe, but she would’ve been a total daddy’s girl.

To her success, she squealed victoriously as she won and hugged her dad. One of the staff in charge rewarded her with new candy to munch on, and off she went to look for the next attraction to divulge in. Doyoung struggled a little catching up to her, but anything he would do for his daughter.

From a one on one balloon dart game, which Doyoung willingly let Areum won because she’s a fussy one, roaming through a mini house of mirrors, riding the indoor Ferris wheel, and many more, Areum was ready to move to the next venue after telling her father that she wanted him to read to her.

“Mommy said you’re a librarian here because you like reading. I like it too, can you take me there?”

Just like you, he was charmed by his daughter. “Alright, Areum. Let’s go there then.”

Before they made it through past the wide doors with the bright red sign above saying “Exit”, Areum’s attention was distracted by a black kiosk near the Ferris wheel. She followed her gut, changing her direction. Doyoung quickly followed her footsteps, only to turn up in front of a photo booth.

“Wow, are these where you can take instant pictures, daddy?”

Waves of nostalgia hit Doyoung as if he were on the beach, totally unprepared for the emotional impact. With Areum, he missed your presence more than ever. Having you there completed your family, and it could’ve been quite a reunion.

“Yes, Areum. How about you go inside and daddy will insert some coins so you can have your pictures taken?”

“But daddy, I want to take pictures with you! It’s only mommy that has pictures with you, and I don’t want to feel left out.” She threw a tantrum, crossing her arms.

Here she goes again, making it difficult for Doyoung to refuse. Even with Manwol only giving him one rule to follow for the night, he doesn’t want any bad memories to be made with his daughter. He’ll have to work it out one way or another later. In the meantime, he smirked before carried her out of the blue inside the booth. Her shrieks increased in volume, only softening after she settled on her father’s lap. Doyoung inserts a few coins, and swiftly enough, the contraption started to operate.

“Okay Areum, one photo strip has 4 solo photos in it. 4 smiles or poses, okay? You’re going to look at the lens there, in the shape of a circle. Then, the flash is going to show in 3, 2-” Right on time, the two smiled.

They had less than 10 seconds until the second shot, so the two pulled random funny expressions. Doyoung pouted his lips, while Areum stuck out her tongue. For the third photo, Doyoung kissed the top of her head while Areum poked her cheeks with her fingers. Lastly, Areum instructed her father to lower his head to her level so she can peck his cheek. His shock was perfectly taken, filling his heart with adoration.

Areum hating getting affection but loves giving it? Another trait of his.

The look of amazement Areum gave once she stepped foot on the endless library was priceless. She described how it was bigger than the national library in Seoul. While she strolled around the near shelves, Jeno, taking over his night shift, approached him with a bottled treat. But it wasn’t just a normal one.

“Manwol and I overheard that she liked strawberry milk, so Manwol told me to give it to you. It has the dream spell potion from Johnny’s bar mixed with flowers from the deities so she can’t see ghosts or the hotel anymore. Make sure she drinks it before she leaves this place.”

While Areum settles on the small couch with her chosen books, she patiently anticipated for her father to read to her before her yawning takes over her. She never tracked the time, but she’s gone way beyond her average curfew.

“Sleepy already, sweetheart?” Doyoung asked as he sat beside her, inspecting her drowsy state.

Areum shook her head, displaying all the books she got on the table in front of her. “Nope! Not until you read me a bedtime story.”

Doyoung scanned through her book selection, amazed by her choices. The Little Prince, Winnie the Pooh, Goodnight Moon, and a bunch of Madeline books from the series, he couldn’t decide! If only he could read them all for her.

A lot of those books he read growing up, and the same goes for you. Especially Madeline, which he discovered through you as one of your childhood favorites. By instinct, he chose the first book from the series, simply entitled “Madeline”.

“This one.” He patted his lap so she could sit on it, which she did without wasting a breath.

It was ironic for a librarian to have never read aloud for anyone during his stay. Maybe because no one asked him to nor he wasn’t into reading aloud. He preferred reading to himself, only helping those looking for specific books or recommending if anyone has a favorite genre. Maybe he’ll give it a shot now. This first-hand experience opened his eyes to a new type of intimacy, hearing the adorable reactions from his daughter as he read the life of Madeline in Paris.

“In the middle of one night, Miss Clavel turned on her light and said, “Something is not right!”.” Doyoung flipped the next page. “Little Madeline sat in bed, cried and cried-”

“She cried to get attention, huh?” Areum commented mid-reading.

“Areum, if she didn’t, she could get even sicker. We don’t want that, right?”

“If I cried like that, would that be enough to bring you back to me and mommy, daddy?” She wholesomely questioned, twisting her body weight so she could face him. “Mommy already has a way to reach to you, and I want something like that too”

Doyoung knew she was a smart girl, but she often denies the reality of some things. In this case, her father’s passing still hasn’t hit her, even if she possessed the mystical skill to see ghosts and the hotel. Doyoung felt cornered, so before he could think of a reply, he kindly asks her,

“Hmm, what do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

“Well,” She pouted as she fidgeted with her index fingers. “I read all your old letters to mommy, so maybe I can write you one every year.”

“What a great idea, sweetheart!” He cheered. “How will you give it?”

“Uh..” She paused to think, then a bright idea came to her. “During your birthday, daddy! Mommy and I still celebrate it if you don’t know, so I can offer it alongside the food.”

Doyoung played along, knowing that tradition of yours. Although it still aches him to show up on his death anniversary, he compromised by showing up on his birthday. He’d see his and your families celebrating, talking about the positive and fun things about him in his life. He observed his daughter a little more later when she got older and started talking. Whenever you praised him for something, there was hope and inspiration in her young eyes. It’s uplifting to discover that his legacy was seen in a good light. He’d never wanted to be seen as a bad guy to anyone.

“I’ll look forward to it, sweetheart. Promise?” He stuck out his pinky to her, getting curled in response by hers.

“Promise!”

Both of them chuckled, appreciating the moment. His long arms embraced her from the back, nuzzling his head on his shoulder. How blessed to have a daughter like her, but from a glance, the bottle of strawberry milk situated beside the pile of books gave a remembrance of one of his remaining tasks. It had to be done, but he hoped she won’t at least forget to write to him.

“Look! Miss Manwol wanted to give this to you.” He handed it to her.

Ecstatic, she cranked open the bottle cap and took tiny sips of it. “It’s so good, daddy!”

Doyoung softly laughed as excess milk drops dribbled in her lips, wiping it with his thumb. “Aigoo, you messy girl. Let’s continue, shall we?”

Cozying up to him again, Doyoung resumed his storytelling. Once he said the words, “The end.”, the small head of his daughter completely leaned against his chest. Snuggling for more comfort, he checked her current condition. Knocked out like a light, he puts the book down and cradled her for a second. The last time he did something like this was when she was born. She was tiny then, and now, she’s bound to outgrow his lap sooner or later.

This was his sign to bring her home.

He boosted her small figure, her head now planted on his shoulder and his hand resting behind the nape of her neck. Her legs were entangled in his torso when he showed up at the lobby again. It was much more serene, everyone checked in already.

“Aigoo, fast asleep already?” Manwol made an appearance without warning, alongside her personal driver Yuta and the bartender Johnny.

“As expected from my magic.” Johnny commended himself, stretching his fingers. That easily gave him a slap from Yuta.

“Can’t you be more sensitive to Doyoung?”

Not caring about those two, Manwol caressed Areum from behind. Inside her cold heart, she brought so much amusement. Even if she embodied traits from Doyoung, she stood out from his usual reserved nature. She had so much energy, and it’s a fresh sight. Manwol secretly peered at their father-daughter time in the library, and she sensed the love the two had for each other. Even if it’s unbearable to separate them, having tonight was a pleasure for all.

“Yuta,” She summoned him. “Drop these two to her house safe and sound. It’s too dangerous to walk in the dark right now.”

Bowing in response, he led the way to the elevator for Doyoung to follow. But before he took the first step, Manwol halted him by the arm. “You better come back, or the deities won’t be pleased.”

He nodded before he was sent on his way. Wasn’t this brutal?

The silence in the car ride is deafening, though he didn’t want to disturb his little girl either. Yuta peeked from the mirror now and then to check on the two, sharing the gloom of his fellow friend. Having something or someone so valuable from the living world makes it hard to leave it. He understood as he suffered a similar fate to him.

When they’ve arrived at their destination, Doyoung was quick to notice that the lights from your living room were still on. It’s too risky to waltz in through the front door, squinting for other ways to go inside. To his luck, the window of Areum’s bedroom was wide open. That must’ve been how she escaped earlier.

“Be careful, Doyoung. Her neighbors may be watching.”

“It’s around 4 am right now, Yuta. I’ll be fine.” He reassured, clicking open the car door with his daughter peacefully asleep.

Entering inside her bedroom, he gently put her down on her soft bed. Covering her body with the duvet so she wouldn’t get cold, he took one last lingering look before taking his leave. Manwol might be looking for him already. Pressuring even to know that Yuta was waiting outside for him and that the deities are looking down on him too.

“Daddy,” Her tiny hand tugged on his sleeve, stopping his movements. Her droopy eyes faintly ajar, wanting to capture these last dreamy moments. “Don’t leave me and mommy again.”

This retouched attachment between the two made things much more stifling to accept reality. Doyoung understood her fright and sighed, kneeling to her again. Patting her head, “I’m sorry but I have no choice, sweetheart. We don’t want daddy to get in trouble, right?”

She lazily nods, tugging on his sleeve again. “Can you sing me to sleep, daddy? You used to do that for mommy.”

He grinned, accepted her last request. Holding on her hand, kissing it, he quietly sings.

“Eonjebuteoinji geudaereul bomyeon….”

When the song reached its end, the soft snores from Areum filled his eardrums. Her eyes are fully closed, and her tiny head fell to the side of her pillow. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Good night, sweetheart. Daddy loves you so much.”

A cute sight to Doyoung, she occupied a huge part in his heart. Even if everything tonight will feel like a complete dream, it’s a memorable moment for Doyoung that he’ll treasure.

Initially, he planned to leave her bedroom the same way he came in, which was through her window. That’s all Manwol tasked him to do when he arrives at your house, but his heart selfishly desires to see you. Even if he was invisible now. His powers were weakening, twitching from being visible to invisible back and forth.

Never has he stepped inside your new house, and this could be his only chance.

The first thing he saw after leaving his daughter’s bedroom was the dining room. Tidy and organized, as expected from you. For the living room connected to it, the simple decorations invited him inside. Assorted photos hung in the wall and by the table near the front door, with a fresh bouquet of asters in a vase there too.

Alluring as it is, the only thing Doyoung couldn’t keep his eyes off the most was a sleeping you in pajamas, hunched over the coffee table on top of books and numerous paperwork. An empty coffee glass neared the edge, so he caught it before you squirmed again from your sleep.

The exhaustion from your life was constantly piled up one after the other. You’ve been studying hard at law school, balancing it with a part-time job as a teacher’s assistant at your university for undergrads and being a mom to Areum. Even seeing the pile of bills right by your side, you didn’t just need the help of your families. You needed him, as a friend, lover, and father.

Men were still viewed as the main breadwinners of the family, but you juggled both positions as mother and father. It was a vicious fate, and he’d do anything to share that challenge with you. For now, the only thing he could do is bring you to bed at least.

Taking you into his arms bridal style, completely knocked out, he only assumed the remaining door in front of Areum’s bedroom was your bedroom. Carefully kicking it, he graced your bed and laid you down elegantly so your sleeping flow won’t be disturbed. He put the covers on top of your body so you’d feel comfier.

Right in front of your bedside was a breezy open window, the moonlight creeping in to highlight your sleeping face. The wrinkles on your forehead started to show, a side effect of immense stress. It’s a trait no one wants, yet it symbolized aging and moving forward to the future. Doyoung envied you for it.

Besides that, you looked youthful as ever, seeking internal peace from the outside world in your deep slumber. His index traced the outline of your face, appreciating your glow. Trapped in amazement, leaving you will be more difficult. It’s been a while since he saw you up close in the flesh, but Manwol’s words daunted his mind. Just like his daughter, his lips softly pecked your forehead and to your ear, he said in a hushed tone, “Good night, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

Getting back on his knees to exit, he’s convinced that you and your daughter can detect a leaving presence and catch it before they do. On cue, your hand unconsciously grabbed his wrist. Your mind couldn’t make up what mental state you were in, but something in you vibed a known presence. One that you’ve yearned, one that you struggle to wait and see until your birthday arrives. Is he actually here?

Doyoung reacted immediately, his feet shuffling to face you again. Eyes still shut close, but your lips released a satisfied moan as you stretched your arms slightly.

“Is it my birthday already?” You mumbled incoherently, gripping on the unknown wrist. “Or am I just lucky enough to get a free pass?”

He rolled his eyes at your nonsense. “If this was a free pass, what would you want me to do?”

You weakly took a peek. It was blurry, probably caused by your sleepiness. But you recognized the silhouette of this stranger from the back of your hand. You clutched his grip, bringing his face closer to yours. Doyoung didn’t expect such a jerking action, almost falling limp if his other free hand didn’t grip on your duvet.

“Kiss me before you go again, my love.” You requested, mindlessly craving his touch.

Loosening from your grip, his palm cupped your cheek as he wets his lips. He made the first move, sweetly and slowly. Even at your unknown state, you returned with the same level of passion, brushing the hair behind the nape of his neck to deepen it. You haven’t kissed anyone like this in a very long time, too busy with your studies and motherhood. This refreshed your memories of what you missed, a warm tear escaping your eye.

No one will ever match up to him.

Doyoung’s deprivation of physical touch for you amplified, eagerness for so much more than this. Touching himself to the thought of you grew tiring, wanting to have you in the flesh by his side. It wasn’t until a bright car light from outside shun by your window. Yuta was an impatient one, but he had every right to be.

It was fulfilling while it lasted. His heart throbbed when his lips parted from yours, opening his eyes again. Your eyes stayed closed, but your lips hummed in satisfaction.

“Nothing changed in the way you kiss, my love.” You complimented, succumbing back to your deep slumber by pulling yourself further inside the duvet.

Doyoung grinned at your words, kissing your knuckle one last time. “I meant what I said, (Y/N). Sleep well.”

He tiptoed out your bedroom, deciding to exit through the front door. Again, no one would be awake at this time anyway. However, an antique-looking photo of him caught his eye. Taking a closer look, it was you and him by his garden, clutching on his arm under their family lemon tree and smiling during pre-war times. It was a funny story actually.

His father bought a camera for the first time and wanted to test it out. You were over at their house that day to study, and his father insisted to take a photo of the two of you as a first try.

“Oh come on, we must commemorate this new contraption! The first people can be titled “Young Love” or something like that!”

Doyoung cringed, whining, “Dad, that’s so corny!”

“I don’t care. Now hurry, join the frame with (Y/N) and smile!”

His father may present himself as strict and stubborn as one of the most affluent men in Korean society even after the war, but behind the scenes, he knows how to entertain his children. Doyoung’s childhood never had a dull moment. Oh, how wished he could follow the same fate as him.

This happy photo was a golden treasure to you, framing it so it could be preserved. It was one of your last traces of him, aside from Areum. Next to it, a much smaller photo of you and Areum was placed. Also all smiles for the two of you, Areum firmly sat on your lap and clasping her hands above her dress. You cut your hair during that time, showing the dog tag necklace that once belonged to him on your neck. You were really devoted to him, and he’s grateful, to say the least.

He knew he shouldn’t take anything either before going back to the hotel, but there was just no way he can’t take this one photo of his favorite girls with him. He already kept his photo strip of him and Areum from the carnival in his back pocket, so he’ll just have to work out the consequences then.

Returning to the car was bittersweet. He took one more proper look at your home, taking in all the positive energy to have such a loving family even if he can only watch from afar. While Yuta revved the car on, Doyoung deeply sighed from the backseat. What a spontaneous evening.

“I’m guessing you didn’t resist seeing your lover either, Doyoung?” Yuta commented, viewing him from the mirror. Raising his brows playfully, “Got caught in the VIP seat of you two lip-locking.”

“First of all, that’s creepy, Yuta. Second, you most definitely know what it feels like to be separated from your lover. Cut me some slack.”

“Whatever, that’s not my business anyway. But good luck to you if Manwol asked why there was a sudden extension.” The older friend shrugged, his foot pressing on the pedal to drive off the area.

“Keyword is if she asks. Now please, drive faster, Yuta. I have a shift to fill in now.”

Last night was a gift, but also an aching reminder of what could’ve been if he never died. The sun is slowly making its appearance again, bringing in another morning in this reality. Another work day for Doyoung, more waiting to be done.

Yet recalling his bonding moments with Areum, he’ll most likely get through another few decades. He yanked out his photo strip from the back pocket of his trousers, gazing at their authentic happiness. He muttered to himself,

“I’ll see you and your mother again, and we’ll all celebrate and rejoice. ‘Til then, my sweetheart.”

Meanwhile, ever since that peculiar “dream” with Doyoung, it left you with a lot of questions. Perhaps, it’s all just in your head. Though it doesn’t quite answer how one of your beloved pictures went missing. That’s definitely something you’re going to ask if your birthday comes up again.

Moving forward, his kind words pushed you to do your best. In the next years, you first became a family lawyer for a few years to get used to the field, but permanently shifted to being a public attorney because you wanted to be able to represent those who are suffering the most yet can’t afford the legal help to avoid it.

Just like what you and Doyoung aspired.

Balancing that with a kid was overwhelming, but with your and Doyoung’s families helping you out, your stress lessened.

You served as a huge inspiration to female college students wanting to pursue law. Since law is still perceived as a male-dominated field, you constantly pushed to make space for women in that workforce. It was also rare of you to lose a case because of the hard work you put into disproving every loophole and suggesting the correct punishments for the wrongdoers.

“You really outdid yourself once again, (Y/N). Or should I say Attorney (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”

“Shut up, Doyoung. Tell me more about your hotel staff friends. That Johnny guy seems very fun, and Jeno seems like a lovely boy.”

“Johnny’s a playful lad, always the life of the party. Jeno is like the younger brother I really wish I had. Donghyun-hyung is okay and all, but he’s so high maintenance.”

“Shush! He’s doing fantastic right now. He pursued acting like he always wanted.”

“He deserves it because he’s hard-working, like yourself, Attorney.”

You’ve never fallen in love the same way you did for Doyoung. Though you won’t lie that you’ve slept with a few men during nights out with your co-workers, committing to another man was something you had no time for. You always envisioned Doyoung as the one fucking you senseless.

People viewed it as stupid to be still lovestruck over your dead lover, but you’ve been called worst insults in your life that it doesn’t sting that much anymore. At the end of the day, your heart still soared and longed for Doyoung.

You just can never let him go.

“It’s still unfair to you, Doyoung. I should be ashamed.” The two of you were at a drive-in theater, watching from the trunk of his pickup truck. Your back laid against his chest as his fingers roam your torso in an upwards motion.

“No, you shouldn’t, (Y/N). It’s natural to desire human affection. I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving it to you.”He replied, completely ignoring the film.

You scoffed jokingly. “It’s silly how we’re so deprived of sex, especially with each other.”

“Oh, (Y/N). Don’t get me started, I’m suffering here with my hand alone while you can just find any available man.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You surrendered, directing your head from the front to the back. “At the end of the day, it’s still your touch that still gets me weak.”

“My dear, on the day we reunite, brace yourself. I’ll show you who you really belong to.”

1973

Doyoung’s been on duty with reading books to children lately, and again, he’s aching to see what Areum’s up to. Rereading past letters from her from his birthday celebrations were driving him wild. After helping one young girl look for more books under the Madeline series, he had to make an exception. Just this once, and that would be it.

Even if he was under disguise, he desperately wanted to have just another brief conversation with her, especially that she’s a lot older compared to their last encounter. Doyoung witnessed her bloom from this imaginative young girl to a strong woman chasing after her dreams.

Like mother, like daughter.

He spotted her at a small bookstore to buy books for her classes and newly arrived ones from the States, very much interested in western literature. But upon seeing the peaked prices which were more than what she saved for, she put the book back on the shelf and gathered the ones she actually needed.

This was where Doyoung took it upon himself to offer his help. Staying long enough in the middle of the living and the dead, he was capable to turn visible.

“Stephen King, huh?” He inquired, scooting to her side and pulling out the book again to take a better look at it. He came across this book in his library, even if it was in English. “I see that you’re into horror. These books are in English though.”

Areum knew speaking to strangers is not a good thing, but if anyone reached out to her to talk about books, she can’t help but feel excited. “I’m interested in a lot of genres, and this book is pretty popular right now so I wanted to check it out. Besides, I’m reading more English books so I can become fluent one day.”

“You aren’t scared of the storylines?”

“I went through a life of hardships, sir. Nothing scares me anymore honestly.” Doyoung couldn’t help feel proud and sorry for her. Without questions, he led her to the counter and paid for all books despite her insisting not to.

“Sir, you really shouldn’t have. I can always come back for those books when I save up more.”

“It’s fine, really. With your taste in literature, you have a promising future as an author if that’s what you’re aiming for.” He complimented. Areum was frazzled at how spot on this stranger was, trying to convince him again.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t pay you back?”

“Pay me back by publishing your books.” He confidently stated, bringing out his wallet to pay the cashier. His astonishing kindness and encouragement for her are heartwarming, bowing with gratitude.

“Thank you,” She halted because she didn’t know his name.

There was no way Doyoung can disclose his actual name, so he just picked a random nickname some of the kids in the hotel who he read to coined for him. “I prefer giving people my nickname. It’s tokki.”

“Thank you, tokki. I’m Areum, Kim Areum.” She thanked him properly, struggling from carrying her things to shake his hand, but Doyoung signaled her not to.

“Nice to meet you, Areum.” He greeted back.

As Areum was more ready to part ways, Doyoung’s fatherly instincts activated due to the heavy box she held. Her dorms must be a bit far and it was already nighttime. Anything can happen.

“Excuse me, Areum. But do you mind if I help you with your books? It’s pretty late, so I just want to make you get back safe.”

Something in Areum was very willing to trust this man she just met. Sure, he was quite covered up, but it’s almost winter and maybe he didn’t want to catch a cold. Though, his intentions looked good. She’s heard stories about people getting robbed in these alleys, so she accepted his help.

Her dorms were a few blocks away, giving enough time to be acquainted with this man. Though he was the one mostly asking the questions and she answered them. She didn’t pry on it too much and went with the flow.

“Are you an only child in your family?”

“Yes. It’s also just me and my mom. I never got to meet my dad sadly. He died before I was born while battling in the Korean war.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” No matter how long it’s been since the war, the trauma of it all still haunted Doyoung.

“It’s been years so it’s fine. I found out recently that he risked his life to save his senior officer during a surprise attack from one of my uncles. If that isn’t bravery, I don’t know what is.”

“So you’re not mad at him for leaving?” He asked, hoping he didn’t cross boundaries either. He needed this closure.

“It was hard to accept at first. All my friends grew up with their actual fathers, and I felt outcasted. But there are just some things we can’t control, you know? Besides, people always spoke of him highly and that makes me proud. Though,” She answered honestly, covering up the bitterness in her words in other not to disrespect him. “I’m pretty sure I saw him in a dream when I was younger.”

Doyoung’s heart leaped. So she may recall quite a bit. “Oh really? What was it like?”

“The only person I told this to is my mom. It felt quite unreal, honestly. I was around 7-8 years old at that time, and we were at a carnival, enjoying the attractions and stuff. Then we transitioned to this huge library where he read me a bunch of stories. One of them was Madeline, I believe. One of my favorites!”

Doyoung replays the fond memory in his mind. Time really flew by so fast.

“What a fun dream, it seems to be.”

Areum was elated at the best memory of her youth, smiling to herself. “It truly was. It felt like I was with him, you know. No matter how many times he told me he loved me there, I still respond the same way and that nothing has changed.”

“I love you too, Areum.” He mumbled quietly. That dream should not have been the only memory they have of each other. Neither of them deserved to be parted.

Soon enough, they arrived at the front doors of her dorm residence. Since it was strictly for women, she explained that she’ll carry the box from here on.

“Thanks again for the help, tokki. I’ll make sure to pay you back soon.” She spoke so casually because, for some reason, this mysterious man felt trustworthy. Her gut feeling may fool her, but she let it pass.

“Take your time, Areum. I wish you the best of luck.”

Before they went separate ways, something about her bitter words from awhile ago bothered Doyoung and he wanted to say something about it. Because looking into the far future, if he didn’t, he knew he’ll regret it and make moving on harder.

“Wait, Areum!”

Areum abruptly reacted to the shouts of her name, almost dropping the box. She faced again the mysterious tokki, who now had an awkward stance with his hand in the air waving at you.

“Yes, tokki?”

Compiling his thoughts, here goes nothing.

“This is quite random but your dad... I just know he loves you too. He’s also proud of you for being strong and intelligent. I hope you don’t forget that.”

Areum was baffled by his statement, but it was uplifting to hear that. Maybe this tokki guy was going through the same thing as her, so she didn’t want to judge too quickly. She was taught to never judge a book by its cover from you. By the quick blinking of her eyes, some tears dropped down to her cheek. She let out some sniffles on her way up to her dorm room, reassured that this stranger may just be correct. She heard what she needed to hear.

It’s been a long time since he reunited with his daughter, even if she’s fooled into thinking that the dream was just a dream. His status as a father was renewed. Even if he got a major scolding from Manwol upon his return at the hotel for ditching his shift.

“She blamed you in public? Oh no, my love.” You consoled your lover after he told you the tale.

A lot of iconic songs were released during this decade, so this dream accommodated it. It was set in a jazz bar, where all sorts of alcohol on display with assorted vinyl CDs by the platform at the end. Dimly lit with numerous empty tables and chairs, and it was only the two of you. Dressed to the nines for the occasion, your flimsy hands couldn’t stop playing with your hoop earrings. A definite staple while you swayed your hips to the beat of Superstition by Stevie Wonder.

Doyoung sat in one of the bar stools in a red v-neck top and flare pants, marveling at your physique and movements in that indigo romper. You could feel his fiery stare, your body flowing through the groove to capture him into your spell. The dream version of him always gets easily distracted when you act suggestive, especially when he isn’t in control physically. Only his words can he sort out.

Dancing towards him, you dragged his arms away from his seated position to lead him to the empty dance floor.

“Let’s dance off the stress, shall we?”

Pulling off the famous dance moves and grooving in freestyle, it was a blast. Both your young energies were in sync. From the funky beat, it shuffled into a slower yet soulful song. The unwinding mood could only mean that this dream was reaching its end. You took Doyoung’s arms again, placing one on your waist and the other interlocked with you. Taking the lead, you waltzed back and forth, twirling yourself in his arms.

Doyoung cracked a smile from the phone and in the dream, immersing himself in the lovely song. It was always played on the radio during the late-night shows, dedicated for the couples out there. With you, he could finally understand why couples request it every night.

“You are the sunshine of my life,” He sang along while feeling your heartbeat against his chest. “That's why I'll always stay around.”

“You are the apple of my eye,” You carried from where he left off, equally resonating with the lyrics. No matter how many times you’ve said or expressed your patience for each other, this song held a special place. It summed up everything you’re both fighting for.

“Forever, you'll stay in my heart.”

1980s

It came to Doyoung’s attention that there’s a new member of the hotel staff, and Manwol put him in charge of touring this new addition around and orienting them about the hotel rules. Considering he wasn’t busy, he went for it.

This person would be the replacement of Johnny, who finally passed through the afterlife in high spirits after his younger brother Mark took his rightful place as the heir of their family business. Originally, it was him, but his stepmother and stepbrother stabbed him alongside his father to get ahold of the power. Without proof, they led the business as she freely did, overworking Mark numerously and spending their money to their heart’s desire.

Doyoung couldn’t let this pass. Since Manwol hired a human manager back in the ‘70s named Kun to better facilitate human-related affairs for the hotel (taxes, bills, etc), he requested him to talk to Mark then introduce him to you.

Kun also made sure to inform you that this was Doyoung’s idea.

“This Johnny is the same Johnny that Doyoung talks about in my dreams? The one who brings the fun out of him every once and while?”

“That’s right, Ms. (Y/L/N). Due to the betrayal, he can’t move on until his stepbrother is taken down.”

The fact that Kun was a bridge to the two of you felt miraculous. Now and then, Doyoung tasked Kun to buy you flowers or coffee whenever they meet. Sometimes, he’ll ask him to send his letters to you too. In return, you replied to those letters, attaching pictures of you and Areum over time. He hung it up in his office, taking a look before every shift.

Kun didn’t mind being in the middle. While Doyoung gave her cases to work on, it makes it easier for him to wait for her. Doyoung was a guest first before being a member of staff, and as the human manager, he’ll make sure that he gets to move on too.

Even if you don’t accept cases from big companies, the touching way how Mark described his passed older brother persuaded her otherwise. He even opened up about watching his father and older brother get killed right in front of him. From there, he was held hostage for years and never told anyone about that night.

It was undoubtedly the biggest case in your career. Up until this day, everyone still talks about how complex and intense the battle was.

“Always finding a way to make justice prevail, Kim Doyoung.” You thought to yourself after gathering more evidence from Mark and Kun, working closely also with forensics and the police.

And that you did. With additional information on Johnny’s side, which helped find the empty puzzle pieces to prove his stepfamily’s guilt, they won the case. Life imprisonment and forced transferring of roles, Mark became the CEO. All those involved in hiding the truth got caught and fired from their positions.

You deserved your influential status, and due to your never-ending service, Doyoung found himself falling in love with you over and over again. Even from far away, you felt his connection and passion.

Currently, you were dealing with five cases, one of them being another request for Kun and Doyoung. It was for the murder of Yuta Nakamoto in the late 40s.

Being a migrant from Japan, numerous Koreans held grudges for their people. He was mistreated and disrespected, even if he had the most caring soul. He even found love, ready to get wed. But one normal evening after his job as a Japanese teacher, he was mobbed by Koreans and heartlessly killed. At first, he wanted vengeance. But after Manwol telling stories of souls burning into ashes when they get revenge, he changed his objective to watch the demise of all his killers, who became very influential people in Korean society.

Representing with you was his former lover, Sooyoung. No matter how many times she tried to appeal to the court in the past, no one paid attention because she was a woman and interracial relationships were taboo. Even if Yuta held a special place in her heart, she eventually got married to another man. In the beginning, she felt guilty, but after Yuta told her in a dream call that she shouldn’t be afraid to open herself up again, she never held back. And as a fellow woman who’s been ostracized, you sided with her.

She may not have her happy ending with Yuta, but it only felt right to avenge his wrongful death.

It’s a tough battle, these murderous men not owning up to their crime, and the public also discriminating the dead man by saying he deserved it. But you knew you could do it, even if it’ll take a while.

Back to the newbie, he was in his early twenties. He went by the name, Jaehyun. Just about to start his life, yet taken away just like that. Aside from being the next bartender, he has another position as the vinyl boy in the music section of the library. It came to Manwol’s attention that he wanted to pursue music when he was alive, listening to vinyl CDs or cassette players and taking singing and piano lessons growing up. While he figured out what he wants to do while moving on, he’d be in charge of organizing and playing music for the souls checked in. Sing even if requested, especially by the women who are charmed by his attractive looks.

He was a literal old soul, jazz being his favorite genre. Most of the time, he played Chet Baker or Frank Sinatra when it’s his shift at the bar. He was known for always showing his best and happy-go-lucky sides to everyone.

It took him a few years to start opening about his life, longer than most souls. But maybe because the trauma of it all stung. One night, when he, Doyoung, and Kun weren’t working, he mixed a few cocktails and completely fell off the radar.

“I was a part of a duo with one of my best friends, Hongseok. It was really fun to perform and make music with him, but then he suddenly got into drugs and had a ton load of groupies. I-I just couldn’t do it anymore with him if he wasn’t going to stop. Once I cut off ties with him, I was signed by a class A producer who loved my compositions. He even got me all sorts of opportunities to perform on TV, and I was so excited for it. But one week until I made my official debut, Hongseok reached out again with apologies, wanting to meet up so we can fix ties. I was hesitant, but I still give him the benefit of the doubt because we go way back….” He confessed, puffing out smoke from his cigarette and putting it down on the ashtray. Before he continued his story, he scoffed with profanities.

“That bitch. I fucking trusted him! I was too good to give him another shot. So after practice, he sent me an address to his apartment or so I thought. We were having drinks, just like old times. But something felt off feel when my mind started feeling hazy and I started coughing continuously because my stomach ached like crazy. He asked me if I was fine, and I told him I was. Then suddenly, baam!” He crashed his hands on the table, shocking the hell out of his two companions.

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.” Kun cursed under his breath. Doyoung nudged him the shoulder to mind his language.

“The deities are watching you, Kun. Let Jaehyun-ie continue.”

So he did. “There I was, standing beside my dead body while Hongseok rummaged with surgical gloves through my bag to steal my notebook of songs. He planted cocaine on the table where I conversed with him, and also in front of my face. Beside my glass, he laid the vial of poison he used and called the cops. With fake tears, he cried on the phone saying that he came home to my dead body and a suicide note.”

Stillness between the three of them was filled with betrayal and disappointment. For a so-called friend, this must be the worst thing you can do to them. To lessen his suffering, Jaehyun brought back his actively lit cigarette and smoked it until all the tobacco was gone. Exhaling a dark grey smoke, he spat out.

“I-I couldn’t believe it, hyungs. I lost everything after making the wrong decision of seeing him. And now, he signed under that label that found me to “give honor to my talent”. How tragic that I suddenly took my life he’d say, oh bullshit! You took away my life because you were jealous!”

Kun decided to call it a night, requesting Yukhei who’s on duty to take Jaehyun’s upcoming shifts so he could calm down. Escorting his intoxicated figure out so the other guests won’t feel bothered, Doyoung contemplated if he wanted to forward another case to you. You’ve been getting so much workload lately, according to Kun, because your success rate is high and highly in demand.

“What happened to Jaehyun?” Manwol showed up from behind, sitting across him. “Did he finally tell his story?”

Doyoung mildly groaned, devastated by it. “He did, and it breaks my heart. He’s still so young, like me.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Manwol stirred the spare cocktail, ingesting it in one go. “Is it another case worth forwarding to (Y/N)?”

“If it helps Jaehyun move on, possibly. I know it’s hard to find staff these days, Manwol. Also, she’s stacked already. I don’t know if she’ll take it.”

She snickered, patting his shoulder. “You know if it’s from you, it becomes her priority. She loves you that much, you know.”

“I know, but I wish I could help her. In person. I would’ve been a lawyer and taken Jaehyun’s case if I were alive. Murder in the first degree, false reporting to the police, stealing, his persecutor is insane and still walking free.”

The fire of passion in Doyoung wasn’t new to Manwol, nodding as he spoke. He was capable of a lot of things, but the world just wasn’t ready to see it. She was more concerned at how the deities will react when he engages in human affairs again. Even if it helps a lot of ghosts move on, it’s highly discouraged to interfere with the living world. It’ll ruin the entire flow of the world.

Doyoung already knew what he got himself into, but it’s one of the few ways he still feels relevant. Always in service for anyone who needs it, dead or alive. If the deities take him away, it’s no joke that it’ll be a riot in the entire hotel.

“In that case,” Manwol’s piercing eyes scanned right at him, filling up his glass with vodka. Second to Doyoung, she grew a fond liking to Jaehyun. She never knew how much he’s been hiding during his stay. “Forward it no matter what. End his murderer’s career at all costs.”

Doyoung smirked, lifting his glass high to clink with hers then chugging it one go.

“I’ll investigate first with Kun to know more about Jaehyun’s life, then we’ll look for someone who wants to testify for Jaehyun to meet with (Y/N).”

Amid the craze and problems in the hotel, at least Doyoung was at ease with how successful his family. Areum became a well-known author for fairytales, got married, and had 3 kids of her own. She most definitely didn’t live down to Doyoung’s promise.

“Is he a nice guy?” Doyoung inspected the man who married his only daughter. It felt like yesterday they played around in the carnival room.

“He is, Doyoung. Intelligent and caring, nothing to worry about.” You calmed his shaking leg, resting your head on his shoulder while you watch the fireflies from the campfire set prepared by the deities.

“I’m just looking out for her, you know.”

“She most definitely does know, even telling stories about us to her kids. Our grandchildren.”

“It’s hard to believe that we’re technically old when we’re always young in these dreams.”

“Maybe it’s just you being used to your youth. Meanwhile, aging is beating my ass every day.” You joked, covering yourself up in the blanket you shared. Doyoung’s bottom lip jutted out, huffing at your mean comments.

“Yah, you take that back.”

“Make me.” You fired back, riling him up.

Doyoung in the dream attacked you by tickling your sides mercilessly. Your body uncontrollably arched back and forth, falling back to the blanket you sat at. He took the advantage to pin you down, gripping on your arms to the side. With his face near yours, you closed the gap with a cheeky kiss. His touch softened, allowing you to pull him lower by his collar. Your lips molded together in every movement, feeling his tongue lick your lower lip for entrance. You freely gave in, moaning filthily.

“Didn’t even have to test me like that, my love.”

How you wished this was longer, if it weren’t for the fast fading out, and morning has arrived again. A short-lived euphoria, yet it left your panties drenched under the covers. The arousal still ran in your veins.

“Kim Doyoung, you tease.”

Back to your real life, aside from bravely taking on controversial cases, there was a thrill in every case you did and it showed by your fast-paced talking and hand gestures. Whether you won or lost, mostly the former, knowing that you helped someone made your life more meaningful.

He often forgot how you’re a grandmother during your dream calls already as time flows differently within the living and the dead. They were the only way you can be youthful and energetic. But with your actual body, it began to weaken.

Early 1990s

Nature decided to take heavier measures on you physically. On one of the monthly visits to the doctor, she noticed something off with the checkup and tests. Especially in the chest area.

“Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), I’m afraid that you have a growing lump in your breast.”

“Are you saying what I’m thinking?”

“If breast cancer is one of those though, then unfortunately yes.”

Areum was by your side that day, tearing up at her announcement. You, on the other hand, remained still and nodding at the truth. You’ve fought for a lot of things in your life, and you were so determined to beat this one.

Chemotherapy, medications, and scans are tiring and draining, but you managed to live for 2 more years. You’ve fully retired, and now and then, mentor the juniors with their cases. You’ve traveled to as many places as you can before the stages of cancer rose.

In your last months of life, you were bedridden in the most expensive hospital in Seoul, getting visits from Areum with her family, Jungwoo and Taeyong. As the latter served as definite friends to Doyoung, it was only natural to befriend them when they came into your life post-war. They supported Areum in any way they can too. They’ve become a great company in your boring life especially in the hospital. Nowadays, Jungwoo loved sharing stories about his hyper grandchildren, who share similar traits to him, while Taeyong excitedly talked about his recent investment with a promising music company with the dream to debut talented individuals and go international in the long run.

“Mr. Lee Soo Man is dedicated to it! He hopes that next year, all his plans can start and be executed.”

“You’re always investing in start-ups, you know? You think this one will be bigger than the rest?”

“Music is universal, you know. Language barriers may be there, but music brings us together.”

Taeyong was always a delight to catch up with. However, you didn’t expect that conversation would be your last with him. A few days later, he suffered a sudden heart attack and passed. This was a sign that your time was coming. Your body falling more and more feeble every day as the disease fully took you over at night, the monitors always going on a high every so often.

It’s only a matter of time before you leave this life, and looking back, you’ve lived a tough yet productive life. Your daughter was happy and thriving in her career and family. You helped families and couples from their abusive households. You defended those with loved ones who were murdered, robbed, and lied to. You ticked off all you wanted to do beforehand.

Areum made sure to visit that night specifically as soon as she could. With your recent test results have been failing, her gut feeling kept insisting.

It’s a good thing she did.

Meanwhile, it was another day of work for Doyoung, just returning a bunch of books in their respective shelves after some teenagers left on the table. Before that, he bid Taeyong goodbye in the tunnel. It’s always nice to see a familiar face, so he couldn’t miss out on it. He shared any life stories he had with you, updating him about your state. Doyoung knew about it beforehand, and as selfish enough to look forward to it, it pained him to know you’re suffering. He only hoped you could fight through it.

“Doyoung-hyung!” Someone suddenly shouted, but he was shushed by an old lady reading her romance novel, who pointed at the sign that read “Keep quiet in the library”.

Doyoung was also annoyed, instantly nagging on the point person. “Kun! Can you read the sign? Jeez, this isn’t the first time so please-”

“(Y/N) is going off the monitor.” He blurted out. The news from one of the nurses he befriended buzzed through his phone. After finding out about his story, he wanted to help Doyoung especially when he was still alive. Doyoung may a part of the staff, but he’s still a guest. He dropped everything in his hands. Before he could race to the hospital, he changed into a specific outfit for this occasion.

This was it.

Areum was the only one by your side of your hospital bed, weeping due to your weak state. You didn’t want your other family members to witness this crucial moment. It stung that you’ll miss out on the futures of your grandchildren, but you were satisfied to just be a part of their lives. All this machinery trying to sustain your life served its purpose, but the illness you’re fighting was stronger.

“Mom....” Areum sniffled in her handkerchief, holding on to your boney hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”

“Oh, Areum.” Your thumb caressed her soft palm as reassurance. “You grew up so well. An independent woman you are, you are so loved.”

“Mom, please....” She begged. “I can’t lose you too.”

You will never know how Areum held in her sorrow of not being able to grow up with her father. She hated the feeling of being fully abandoned. She wanted things and people to return to her, but she can’t make that choice. Being by her side all her life, losing you will be the hardest struggle she’ll have to face.

“Areum, you must understand...” You paused as a pang of pain in your chest stabs you. After a minute of enduring it, you continued. “...We are put on this world for a specific time. And if we’re called to leave, we must face it.”

She whimpered whilst holding on to your hand. She really thought you can get through this one like the rest, but your hair has gone, your body lost much weight, and your eyes lost their light.

“Mom, are you happy? You’ve fought through so much to get where you are. I can never do what you did.”

“Y-Yes, I am.” You stuttered, gracing a promising smile. “I had you, our families, and your father watching over me..”

The dreams you get on your birthday were fairytale-like stories that pushed Areum to become an author. She denied how unrealistic and supernatural they were at first. Another trait of Doyoung she got. However, when she noticed how wider your smiles are and energetic you get in the mornings after rather the feeling of distraught, she reckoned to believe they were something special. Despite knowing your love story and its downfall, she felt exhilarated at the things you and her dad did there. In a way, it brings him closer to her. But she still had that void.

“I envy you for that, mom. I wish I met him or at least came to me even if I least expected it!”

Oh, little did she know about that time in the bookstore back in the 70s. It was not coincidental; you and Doyoung planned it very well. You just played along to her complaint, alerted that this wasn’t your story to tell at this time. “Forgive your father just this once, okay? He never wanted this kind of fate for any of us. If one thing stayed constant in those dreams, it’s him always asking how you are doing.”

Her tears become uncontrollable, allowing herself to get puffy eyes and let it all out. “When you see him, please tell him I’m sorry and that I love him no matter.” “Oh, Areum. He knows that, so don’t worry about it.”

The clock was ticking for Areum before she’ll be asked to leave. With you bringing up her father again, she had one last question. Her courage to ask it was so little when she was young in fear you sulk and break down. It hurt her when the bad parts of your past tormented you.

“How much do you miss him?” The question put you in a point of self-reflection. The only person you’ve opened up to talk about him in detail was Areum. Even with your friendships with Taeyong and Jungwoo, there were some things you never disclosed with them. And never did they force you to answer because they can read you on the back of their heads: you’re still heartbroken, yet remained devoted to him.

“I miss him so much that even if this became my fate for accepting his notebook back in our university days, I would foolishly do it all over again. In those times he was no longer with us, it taught me to appreciate what and who we have in our lives because tomorrow is never guaranteed. From his impact, I learned to take care of myself again so I can take better care of you. I’m grateful you were born; he left a piece of him for me.”

“You’ve suffered so much, mom. I hope you can rest peacefully.”

“Thank you for never leaving my side, Areum.” A few tears escaped your eyes, infectious to your daughter’s gloom. “I love you.”

Meanwhile, Doyoung was right outside viewing you and Areum sharing your last conversation and goodbyes. As much as he looked forward to reuniting with you, he didn’t want to leave his only daughter alone. The deities should have shown her more mercy. Still invisible, he observed how Areum trembled when she heavily closed the door of your hospital room. Covering her sobs with her handkerchief, she took one last look through the small glass of the door. You dove into a deep sleep that would then be unawakened.

“I hope your next life is happier than this, mom, and you can cross paths again with dad and grow old with him too.”

Doyoung’s urge to show himself to his daughter to console her was overpowering him, but he restrained himself this time. A few hours later, your consciousness was faltering. Your five senses were losing touch one by one. Important memories of your long life played in your mind. Then your heart gave in and stopped beating. The doctors present there have pronounced you dead. The transition from your body to your soul watching it be covered by a blanket by the nurses was swift yet strange. You didn’t know where to go and what’s next. No book prepared you for this nor can you ask the doctors what to do. Standing there lost with so many questions, it only took someone’s enthusiastic calling for your name to soothe you down.

“(Y/N)!”

It hit you instantaneously that when your day comes, Doyoung would call for your name. Your old age and past illness really affected your memories. He was an honest man and kept to his word this time.

And there he was, just along the hallway.

This was no longer a dream.

This novel kind of exhilaration got you moving your feet, still sore and slow because you were still an old lady.

“Doyoung!”

You shouted back, over and over again before your boney hands slid open the door. At the same time, your old figure drastically and permanently transformed you back to your active twenties. Nothing physically hurt anymore and your energy was on an all-time high. Your room was the last on the floor, a dead end. The left side of the hallway was just a closed window pane.

When you stepped outside and turned to your right, there he properly stood. He wore the same suit and suspenders combination on the day he approached you on your bike. The actual soul of Kim Doyoung who was no longer behind the phone. No matter how many times he’s seen you from afar, it makes him lose his breath from the captivation. For once, he can see you without barriers.

You just realized how you were dressed back into the floral dress on the day you had your first proper conversation. It’s like you’re meeting each other again for the first time. The beeping sounds of the monitors, wheelchairs moving, and chitter-chatter exchanged by doctors went mute. Stunned, you couldn’t stop looking eye to eye at him, cherishing this special moment.

It finally processed to Doyoung that his patience and efforts paid off. In this journey of acceptance, while enduring its trials, it added up to this sweet result to be reunited with you. The adrenaline rush took control of your limbs, legs running to him on the other side.

As his arms widened for a hug, he spun and picked you around in the air. His arms firmly wrap around your waist while your head snuggled on top of his shoulder. You felt safe, warm, and alleviated. Once he put you back down, the overwhelming joy wasn’t keen to pull away from your lover. Doyoung’s lips somehow got closer to yours, your heart skipping beats and his familiar scent intoxicating your thoughts.

With Doyoung still having you wrapped in his arms, he took his awaited chance to close into your parted lips. The fluttering in your stomach was on overdrive, your entire body reacting immediately from his passion. One hand curled into a fist on the hem of his buttoned top while the other rubbed the back of his head. Your legs almost gave in, but with Doyoung’s strength, he held you tight. No previous kiss felt like this. You didn’t have to worry about getting caught by adults for such a provocative display of affection. Your roommate wasn’t going to splash water if she catches you getting frisky on campus. As for Doyoung, he didn’t have to get paranoid about what his classmates would say about their relationship. You were both in your own world for a while.

But wanting to catch a breather from his thrilling dominance, your lips hesitantly moved away first. You took your time to get lost in admiring his features. Wet, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, his dazed eyes, he was irresistible, to say the least.

This was how an almost 50-year build-up would end up to.

“My love, it’s really you,” You finally spoke, caressing your thumb on his flushed cheek. “You’ve been through so much.”

As lovestruck as he is, his pent-up tears streamed down instantly. Except they were tears of joy. All those years he held back.

“I’ve missed you so much, (Y/N). I’m just happy you’re finally here with me.”

He wasn’t joking when he said that the main lobby alone was exquisite after walking through the city. Aside from Kun, that’s where he introduced you to other staff he worked with, such as Jeno, Jaehyun, and the boss herself, Manwol.

“This boy stayed very loyal, you know?” She commended Doyoung. It was a rare thing with her cold-hearted and aggressive personality. “He read to a lot of kids, taught some of them too, and recommended great books for the souls to read. He listened to a lot of souls who wanted justice then forwarded them to you so they can cross the other side.”

An honor to hear from the owner herself, you glanced at Doyoung with so much love. Such a giver than a receiver.

Beside Manwol was someone whom you aspired to meet. Unfortunately, you never met the other boys you’ve helped, so this was a great chance to see at least one before moving on. Hearing about his case and the treachery of it, you made sure to work on it before you retired, eventually passing it on to one of your trusted juniors. So far, his side was winning and that’s all you wanted.

“Jeong Jaehyun.” You held on to his clasped hands as he bowed to you.

“Attorney (Y/L/N). I’m so grateful for what you’re doing for me.”

“Oh, just call me (Y/N). By the way, your side is winning, my dear. Your younger brother Sungchan is committed to clearing up your name, and that evil Hongseok will rot in life imprisonment for his crimes.” You updated him. Without self-restraint, his arms gather you in for a hug. Jaehyun wasn’t much for affection, but this felt like the right circumstance. In return, you hugged him back.

“Thanks to you, Johnny and Yuta are resting in peace.”

“And you are next, Jaehyun. My junior taking your case is topnotch, so you’re bound to get what you truthfully deserve.”

After sharing such a heartfelt moment, you asserted your attention to Jeno. Not going to lie, you’ve looked forward to meeting this boy the most. He was there with Doyoung from the very beginning.

“Doyoung-hyung gets giddy after he makes a call, and tells me everything that you’ve been up to.” Jeno joined in. “He gets grumpy though too, so I like pestering him around to light him up. Oh, I’ll never know what you see in him, (Y/N).”

That gave him a joking slap on the shoulder by Doyoung, signaling to cut it out.

“Hyung!” He fakely cried, hiding his face behind Jaehyun’s shoulder.

You suppressed a laugh, eventually sputtering out like an engine. Doyoung sighed, failing to redeem himself. But it’s alright. A simple peck from you on his cheek got him all flustered.

“Aish, take your romantic shenanigans when you’re in your room, not in my damn lobby.” Manwol cringed, the evident love bug getting on her nerves. “Alright, everyone. Get back to work!”

Checking in your room was an experience. Since you’ve been to numerous places through the dream calls, there was one main thing you’ve missed to do with Doyoung. As soon as he lifted you by your thighs and roughly shoved his tongue down your throat, you were in for a heated evening. This dominant side of Doyoung when it came to sex was completely fresh. After diving into more erotica over time, he learned about visual porn through Johnny and Jeno. You can say that he studied it very well.

“Almost 40 years of waiting, (Y/N).” He trapped you from above, sliding one of his hands to your bare breasts until it landed on your clothed core. Rubbing up and down your clit in a torturously slow place, he smirked at your desperate whines. Your breaths turned heavy, soaked by his actions. “Remember when I told you to brace yourself back then?”

“Shit, Doyoung...”

“Shush love, I’m in control now. So be a good girl for me, alright?” He growled in your ear, sucking on your soft spot on your neck. You obeyed that night, unbuttoning his shirt impatiently only to reveal his toned abdomen then lowering his crotch to give it a tight squeeze.

He hissed against your neck, pushing your panties to the side and sliding in your wetness.

“You are asking for it now, love.”

A steamy night it was, making up for all those lost years.

The following day, the struggle to walk was real. Jeno even pointed out your limping when you were roaming around the library Doyoung worked at. You never had a younger sibling, but he acted like one. So you punched him in the shoulder to shut up. “Jeez, you’re both so physical. Let me live!”

“Jeno, you’re dead. Don’t say nonsensical things.”

You learned how this hotel’s main purpose was to guide and fulfill the last wishes of ghosts in the living world before moving on. When Jeno asked you if you still have unfinished business, you realized that there is one thing left. Even if you completed your bucket list, that one thing is only possible through the hotel. You and Doyoung sat across Manwol, monitoring your shared dream call like she always did.

“Is this really the only thing you want to do here, (Y/N)?” Positively nodding, she gave you the signal to lift up the phone.

Areum found herself in an unfamiliar forest nearby a river during the day. Even she’s always like playing outside with nature in her childhood years, this location didn’t ring a bell. In fact, she was physically back to being that young girl with the same mature mind in this dream.

She wasn’t a vivid dreamer like yourself, forgetting them as so as she woke up. Even in that “dream” with her father, there were so many gaps. So for this one time, she can fully grasp her surroundings. This dream must have a purpose, she wondered.

While she followed the path that the dream assumed for her to take, she then clearly caught a glimpse of a younger you at the end of that path. Running around and laughing in the grass.

“Mom!” She called out, moving at a faster pace. It’s a good thing this dream brought her back her agility.

At the end of the path, it unveiled you lying down on the grass. Wearing in a dainty dress that reminded her of the 50s, there was an unfamiliar young man beside you. His head face planted on the grass because you pushed him off your body when he tried to tickle you.

It turned out that she arrived at your favorite spot with Doyoung. She’s only heard stories of things you’ve done and talked about her, but due to the war, their spot was devastated. Soon after, it turned into a small condominium building overlooking the river.

“Areum!” You squealed cheerfully to hear her much younger voice. She tackled you in a hug, and you still naturally felt it from where you sat.

“My sweet child,” You cooed in her, patting her back. “How are you?”

“It’s been difficult, but I’ll get by in time.” That was the first thing she managed to say, the grief being very much fresh. No mother wants to be separated from her child, and you weren’t exempted. But that is how life works: you come then you go. The truth tends to hurt.

It was obvious to Doyoung that you were still saddened by leaving Areum, taking this opportunity to give you space and finally interact with his daughter. No disguises nor distance. While the most important women in his life are still hugging in the dream, he pulls himself off from the grass and brushes away some leaves from his hair.

“Areum, I see you paid me back by having top-selling books for children.”

Areum peeked from your shoulder to check who the other man was by your side talking to her. Once he was clean from dirt and leaves, there was the only person he resonated with her. From pictures and stories shared by you, the actual man was with her.

Her actual father was in this dream with her.

“Dad!” She abruptly pulled away from you to approach her father for a bigger hug. You don’t blame her for that, she deserved to see her father even for a bit.

Years of having that empty void only for her biological father, she could care less at this very moment

Doyoung has never cried in a dream call with you, however, this long-awaited moment with his daughter resulted in him softly bawling while feeling her hugs from the chair. He’s proud and at peace to move on not just as your lover or a passionate university student, but as a father.

In their moment of content, only there did it make complete sense to Areum at the unusual memory during the ‘70s at the bookstore wasn’t random. It proved that he really did his best to reach out to her in any way he could.

“This whole time, you were the mysterious tokki. I just thought it was a coincidence. I’m so sorry, dad, that I didn’t notice you.” She sulks. Doyoung in the dream pats her back while lovingly rubbing the nape of her head.

“Oh, Areum. Don’t feel bad. I just wanted to see how much my little girl became independent and studious.” He replies, comforting the disheartened child. “I read all the letters you sent me during my birthday. I was touched then and touched now for this moment. I am proud of you, my daughter. And my love for you never changed.”

The affirmation in his words put Areum in a state of joy, rekindling that spark from the 70s. “I love you, dad.”

Your last mission in this world was to have a special outing with your complete family. Regret was always prevalent in the past, wanting to do this and that but never pushed through. But not in this dream. Just the three of you, happy and carefree from it all.

Unfortunately, Manwol just gave a hand signal that your time was almost up. Time flies by so quickly when you’re fully immersed in something you’re enjoying. Doyoung wasn’t capable to bear the bad news, but with you by his side, you helped him.

“Areum, it’s time for us to go.”

Areum sighed, reality seeping back into the situation. One sleep isn’t enough to make up years of loss. However, she still managed to remain positive in those circumstances. “I wish things worked out differently for our family, but who knows what our next lives will take us?”

In an instant, the two of you in the dream gave your daughter a big group hug. One she’s always yearned for. It’s moments like this where you mustn’t take anything for granted with your family.

“I’m happy you’re reunited with each other, mom and dad. Rest well.” She whispers with a smile, feeling fulfilled. She can grace the living world without wondering how things would be like with a complete set of parents anymore. This dream call successfully filled that empty void in her heart.

Once you’ve bid your final farewell and hung up the phone, you and Doyoung can say the same. A little bittersweet, but it lightened all the burdens in your hearts. The both of you can ultimately rest peacefully and move on.

The timing was perfect for Kun to inform you that the car taking you to the bridge leading to the afterlife was ready.

Jeno, Manwol, Kun, and Jaehyun didn’t want to miss out on this moment, waving farewells to you both. This lifetime may have taken you away from each other physically for a long time, but you still held on to each other. Most people gave up, though it’s not wrong either. It’s better to let go rather than holding on sometimes.

But the both of you were different, something, not even the deities didn’t expect. It’s only up to them to decide if they’ll give you another chance to be together and relive a longer life. A very rare sight indeed. To be granted or not, your story set a standard.

That a love so strong is so patient it endured all the challenges and stress.

“On to the next life, Doyoung?” You asked him, leaning against his shoulder as the car drove under the tunnel. All at the end of it was merely a white sky, where a long bridge awaited them.

“Make sure you wait for me this time.”

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12/26/2020 DAB Transcript

Zechariah 9:1-17, Revelation 17:1-18, Psalms 145:1-21, Proverbs 30:32

Today is the 26th day of December welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is great, it is a joy, it is an honor to be here with you the day after Christmas, right? Left over day, return day, exchange day, all of the things that are traditional. I guess we have to try to find some nontraditional ways of doing some of those things, but this is the day after Christmas where we…we just kind of relax and be together and try to just let the day unfolded. But it is great to be here with you because the day has unfolded that we could spend some time together around the Global Campfire and take the next step forward. I mean we don’t have too many more steps left. This is the 361st day of the year. We actually have 366 days in this year. It was a leap year this year among other things. So, here we are at the 361st day of the year and we will return to the book that we are in in the Old Testament, the second to the last book of the Old Testament, the book of Zechariah. We’re reading from the New English Translation this week. Zechariah chapter 9.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word and we thank You for another week completed in Your word, which…which leaves us less than one full week to go. By the time we finish the next week we will be in a new year, which is on some levels very, very hopeful and we’re looking forward to the fresh start. On another level it's like, “wow, this is where we are. It's almost over. We really made this journey and it's been a year for the books. We’ll never forget this one.” Yet we've mentioned many times Father, we’re still here because of Your faithfulness to us, and we have a hope for the future because You are faithful to us. You are sustaining us. Christmas day that we celebrated yesterday reminds us of Your passion to come in person to restore us. And, so, we rest in that as we just acknowledge where we are in the year. And, so, as we begin to turn the corner and…and move to the final days of this year 2020 we look into Your word and we look to Your word to give us the counsel that we will need in these coming days as we make a transition into a new year. And, so, we take what the Proverbs, what the voice of wisdom that we met back at the beginning of the year, she, the one at every crossroads pointing the way to go, we listen to her today at the end of the year telling us that if we've been foolish by exalting ourselves and others, in other words, if we’ve been proud or if we’ve planned to do something evil that we should put our hands over our mouths. It's stark. That's how wisdom works. It's just simply the truth without nuance. And, so, we take hold of that, carry that forward as we listen to Your word, speaking into our lives about what we’re going to need to carry with us into the new year. And learning to put our hand over our mouth is something that we should carry forward. And, so, we thank You for that gift, that post Christmas gift that You've just given us, the counsel of wisdom. Holy Spirit come and plant that in our lives. Help us to water it so that it can be a shoot, just a little shoot peeking through the ground by the time we get to the new year, something we’re gonna cultivate, water, and care for and watch it blossom into something beautiful as we learn to control our tongues. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible here as we approach the final days of a year. Is this an unforgettable year or a forgettable year? Like I think that's the decisions that we have to make over the next few days as we begin to turn our hearts and minds toward goals and dreams and things that the new year might bring, things that a brand-new start might give us. I think this is an unforgettable year for me. I think it's been hard, which, you know, challenge and difficulty and things you have to endure, those of the things you want to forget. But I think we should probably remember because we grew stronger this year. It was hard. That's what growing stronger is. It's hard. And, so, like some of the goals we might have in the new year are to get stronger, physically, like we’re gonna go to the gym and stronger. That's gonna be hard. It will work. It can work. We will be strengthened. We could completely change our health in the next year, but it will be hard and will take discipline and plenty of endurance. And spiritually, we've been doing that all year. And, so, we are stronger. So, we should probably remember. We should probably hold onto it in the new year as we discover some of the things that we have been strengthened, some of the ways that we've been strengthened, they get to finally show themselves. So, looking forward to that. But if you…if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible then dailyaudiobible.com's the place to go. There is a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, there's a Hotline button in the app that you can press no matter where you are on this planet or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hey fellow DABbers this is Denise A New Day in Tampa Florida and I wanted to thank you guys for praying for my dad who did pass away at 95 but did come to know the Lord before that. And I especially wanted to thank Esther from Orlando who’s a tremendous prayer warrior and I heard her mention that. So, thank you Esther. I’m calling for prayer today because I find myself in a situation where I’ve been thinking since my dad passed of the fact that my husband passed and then my mother passed and now my dad passed within a five-year time period. And I find myself being one of those people who society looks at as elder orphans, people who’ve lost their parents and…or husband and don’t have children. So, I’m essentially alone. And, so, I just would like to ask for some prayer about how I approach this, what I do, and where to find community so that as I age alone, I won’t do it alone. So, if you could offer a prayer for me, I would really appreciate it. God bless you guys. Have a beautiful weekend.

I was listening to the recording for 18th of December and I heard quiet confidence asking for prayers and asking for the Lord to take her up. My dear, if you’re still here then He has a reason for that, and you have a purpose on earth. I know it can be difficult. It can be frustrating it can be overwhelming. I can’t say I have a clue…I can’t say I have…I…I…I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through but I might have a clue. I just want to ask you a favor please if you don’t mind. I would like you to think of four things you are grateful for, four things every morning and every evening before you go to sleep. Four things, just four things. It could be anything. It could be thanking the Lord for being grateful for waking up. It could be being grateful for brushing your teeth. You know, it could be being grateful for anything, that you’re still breathing or that you had a delicious meal or that you had a meal that you didn’t even enjoy. Just anything that you are grateful for. Just list the simplest things, doesn’t have to be major. But every morning and every evening try that. You know, it gives you a sense of calm, it gives you a sense of thankfulness. And from my experience if you are thankful for everything, everything, for the air we breathe for every single thing of life there is this peace and this happiness and this joy that comes with it. So, my darling if you will please do this every morning four thing’s you’re grateful for when you wake up, every evening before you sleep four things you are grateful for, for the day, for that day. Just do it for the next two weeks and you’ll see how the Lord will bless you and change your life. Thank you very much and thank you Brian, thank you everyone.

Hello Quiet Confidence from Virginia this is Running Bear in Tennessee and your words were…I hear you and recognize the sorrow of your journey and I spent a lot of time yesterday praying for you and even praying for words to share with you. Read some scriptures for you and prayed to them. Prayed through Psalms 27 where you definitely have your eyes focused on the Lord as you do reflect of wanting to be with the Lord, but you also have the sorrow the journey and that comes out in Psalms 27. And just prayed through that for you and for your family. And then I thought too, about in places of deep sorrow I reflect upon the children of the Bible and how they lived through absolute tragedy and yet are able to demonstrate an amazing love to the community around them. First thing that comes to mind is Naaman the servant girl who is in a foreign land, no real hopes of seeing her family anymore and yet she provides not only love to her captors but direction and obviously lived a life that was powerful, that they took value in her words. I’m praying for you, praying for your husband. There’s a lot of sorrow right there for him as well with you. Love you.

Praise God for Quiet Confidence for you called in to reach out to your family and we, every one of us heard your voice. Everyone of us heard your plea. And God our father in heaven loves you so very much. You were wonderfully made. God chose you to live this life this time right now for His purpose no matter what the circumstances, no matter what the thoughts from the enemy, no matter what the feelings that are affected by the attempts of the enemy the truth will always remain that you are loved, and God loves you. May His Holy Spirit fill you and rest in his love and let you know that He never leaves, He never will forsake you. No matter what it is you’re feeling, no matter what the lies are telling you from the enemy. He will do everything to separate you from God but nothing, nothing can ever separate you from God’s love and your husband’s love who is there beside you to help you and we are here for you. Quiet Confidence, thank you for calling, thank you so much for calling. You will be prayed for every day by this family and the angels in heaven are surrounding you and protecting you and lifting you up at the feet of our Lord. And you are saved. Don’t you ever doubt it. You are home now until God chooses otherwise. God bless you. Leann…

Hi family this is Soaring On Eagles Wings from Canada it’s Saturday, December 19th and I am phoning in to ask for prayer. There are six more days before…no…five more days before Christmas and I haven’t spent Christmas here for many many years. I’m either in Arizona or the with my daughter and family or the beautiful island of Jamaica __. But because of Covid I can’t travel to see I won’t get to see my family. And as Christmas draws closer, I find I’m getting a little bit more despondent. And, so, I’m asking all of my family to surround me with prayers so that in spite of what is happening I will focus on Christ’s birth, what it means to humanity, and the joy of the Lord will be my strength. I am really __ having its ups and downs it’s not easy. So, I thank you for praying for me. I love you all. I pray for you every day. And I wish that all of you will have a beautiful and very special Christmas

Hello Daily Audio Bible family this is Anonymous in Tulsa Oklahoma. I want you to know that I wish each of you, those who speak, those who work behind the scenes, those who just listen a blessed Christmas. This has been a difficult, strange, interesting, awesome, phenomenal, remarkable, different, in all of these ways year and we’re going into a new year with still this just carrying this load, but the thing is is we don’t have to carry it. We can shed it and place it in the Lord’s lap and let Him carry it while we walk along with Him on our path in life. This path is called the journey of life and that it’s not ours to walk alone. He always walks with us as long as we ask Him to. Christmas reminds me of that, that He came to this earth to walk along with us, to show us how to walk in servitude, in patience and kindness and forgiveness and in love. And I love each of you remarkably differently and in all different kinds of ways. Thank you for coming. Know that you’re being prayed for whether you’re here speaking, behind the scenes, or listening. Amen.

Hello Daily Audio Bible family this is Blessed Assurance calling in a prayer for Quiet Confidence in Virginia. I believe she called in on December 18th stating that she had mental issues and she was really struggling. I’d like to lift her up in prayer now. Our heavenly Father holy holy holy is Your name. I lift up to You Quiet Confidence. I ask Lord that You protect her and comfort her, give her peace. Lord I ask that You draw near to her and in doing so she will draw closer to You. Lord God I…I pray that You protect her from the evil one for all that he says in her ear. I ask that you strengthen her husband of 24 years. Please bless and Lord and give him strength to continue to care for her. Give him peace and understanding love. Lord God will lift us up in our process Jesus Christ name. Amen.

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danbensen · 4 years

Link

Trigger Warnings: Cancer, Coronavirus

So there I was, feeling good.

I was in the grocery store for maybe the third time since February, buying ice, salt, frozen strawberries, and the other ingredients of home-made ice cream. My headphones were in my ears, playing Terry Pratchett’s Maskerade, and my own mask was fogging up my glasses.

I carried my bags out, nodded to the hand-sanitizer lady, and emerged into the green, breezy warmth of May in Sofia. Big, white clouds piled themselves above the hilly crowns of the chestnut trees. Swallows dove and starlings chimed. People walked between the apartment buildings and neighborhood stores, but the playground was still roped off. I removed my mask, attempting to neither rip my glasses nor my earphones off my face, and made for home.

The whole scene should have scared the hell out me.

Warm breezes? Fluffy white clouds? Last spring, buying ice cream would grip my guts with dread. I remember stopping by the frozen food section and feeling the depression settle over my shoulders like a wet woolen sweater. I remember an earlier May, another playground where I ate ice cream with Pavlina and the girls, when I was dying of cancer. That was four years ago, almost to the day.

Don’t worry, I won’t go into any more details of how I got sick. If you want to know more, I wrote about it here. Suffice to say that spring is a hard time for me. For the past three years, the period between March to June reminded me of this very painful and frightening time, and that made happiness hard to keep hold of.

Except that this year, we’ve been in quarantine the whole season! I haven’t been teaching classes in the same office, or eating at the same restaurants, or doing any of the same stuff I was doing four years ago. This time, when I went shopping for ice cream, I was wearing a face mask. The playgrounds are closed. We had been rushing forward, and disease knocked us back hard. That does feel familiar.

The good news is that the recovery also feels familiar. In Europe, the first wave of the coronavirus is receding. Bulgaria’s kindergartens and restaurants have reopened after nearly three months of complete lock-down. There have been two deaths in the past 24 hours and seventeen new cases. We’re planning to reopen hotels. It’s still too early to drop all caution and go back to normal, of course…

But I find I don’t want to. I don’t like a lot about the old normal. I don’t want to return to the Cult of Busy and the Fear of Missing Out. I don’t want to spend half the day in transit and half the weekend worrying about whether I’m being social enough. I made ice cream with my kids during the lock-down*! I wrote poems about budgies and helped them with their homework. I had more snowball fights this spring than ever in my adult life.

Of course the coronavirus is a disaster. It has killed hundreds of thousands of people. It’s knocked global society back hard. But if that feeling of being knocked back is very familiar to me, so is the knowledge that I’m lucky to be alive to think about what comes next. Four years ago, I went in for surgery and came back to consciousness with new priorities. I promised myself I would do more good with the time I had been given.

Then I began the great, good work of recovery.

What does your recovery look like? What will you do differently now? Let’s make a list.

Ahem.

Apparently, my recovery looks like focusing even harder on writing books. My webpage and twitter stream look pretty barren this month, but I finished the beta version of Wealthgiver. I also spent more time on personal emails than I have for a while, and I’ve had some really deep and interesting discussions there and on Zoom. I’ve talked with experts on biology, physics, and Thracology, as well as colleagues and mentors in the sphere of writing. I feel as if I’m growing. My Thracian wordlist is undergoing some major metamorphosis, let me tell you.

Here’s a fun example:

Zi-issa ax issti zălmossa.

“The truest face is the mask.”

Doesn’t that look nice? All sinister and hissy? And here’s the “classical Thracian” for the same sentence.

Ax sa źi ísas ḗsti źälmós sa.

Now that’s sinister, hissy, and needlessly complicated! Just the aethetic I’m going for! Umlauts, baby!

I want to play with my Thracian some more, so without further ado, here’s what I liked this month:

Ronja the Robber’s Daughter: Astrid Lingrin + Studio Ghibli + Birmingham accents = good wholesome fun. As a father, I wish Ronja spent less time leaping back and forth over deadly crevasses. And those harpies are top notch.

Octonaut: Underwater adventures where the biology isn’t bad and everything has bunny-noses and beady little black eyes, including the carrots. Why are there spaient submarine carrots? It’s just one of the many mysteries of the deep.

Feierabend by Grossstadtgeflüster: I don’t know what she’s singing about, but she’s super into it.

Yggdrasill by SKÁLD: These guys are are into it too! Urðar brunni!

85 by Andy Grammer: Damn that backbeat! Mm’mm whappa mm!

The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner: It has a good twist ending and a claustrophobic tomb-robbing scene that just about makes up for the characters’ sarcastic sniping.

Maskerade by Terry Pratchett: This is one of the first Diskworld books I read back in high school. I didn’t realize it until now, but it set a lot of my expectations about helping other people and writing. Those expectations weren’t entirely borne out, but maybe that’s just a sign I should become an erotic witch-chef instead.

Memory by Lois McMaster Bujold: Holy Russian Space-Gods this book is a work of art! It is a pleasure and an education to see Bujold take her character through a high, a low, and lower low, then back up for a quick trip to the store to buy eggs, and then its back down we go! Forget that nonsense about the three act structure and the hero’s journey, Miles has an ego-shattering revalatory insight like every third chapter! God damn but I want to write like this! Just read it.

Rising Strong by Brené Brown: I always enjoy Brown’s books because she’s approaching being a good person from the opposite direction as me. She talks about her childhood and her basic fears and desires and none of it rings a bell for me, but then she’ll come out with “judgementalness is caused by resentment, and the antidote for resentment is boundaries.” I don’t agree with her about everything, but she really seems to have a-

The Judging Eye by R. Scott Bakker: (Aspect-Emperor #1): It wasn’t as good as the books of Bakker’s previous series in this world, but it’s still pretty damn good. The tangly depths of scene description and character emotion don’t go quite as deep. The author’s thoughts on judgement are interesting, but they don’t quite ever get where they’re going. And I didn’t care much about the teenage prince of Rohan. But all that crawling through the black catacombs of an ancient and corrupted civilization? Mmwah!

Next month I’m working on the sequel to Protector. So anybody got some recommendations for spy thrillers, the Italian Renaissance, nano-manufacturing, and meditations on trust?

#mystuff #newsletter #writing #coronavirus #book review

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chaniters · 4 years

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Fallen

Sidestep makes his case against Elyise before Reaper, and reveals the data rod. Things take a twist for the worse.

Following @kruk-art Awan’s fiction i’m writting! Only a few more parts to the end.

_____________________________________________

His empty skeletal sockets stare right into you, a red shimmer the only indication that there’s something inside. He listens to you without saying a single word. You can sense his mind rushing to assimilate all the information you’ve brought to him.

Reaper’s angry… no, he’s furious, but doing everything he can to remain calm.

You’ve told him everything, laid out all the evidence. He’s the one who handed Elyise her new costume, gadgets, a new suit, a movie, sponsored her to join the rangers...

Of course, he’s mad at the possibility that he got played.

“I’m glad you brought this to me first Sidestep” he in a glacial, calmed tone. “But there must be some other explanation… Anyone could have just bought those drill drones, my company sells them everywhere.”

“I’m sorry. I know how much you appreciate her, but you have to face the facts… I wish it didn’t have to be like this”

“No. I refuse to believe this Sidestep. It’s can’t be...!”

“That’s not all Reaper. I’ve got this,” you say extending your hand. “The Loanshark had a data-rod with her name on it. It’s encrypted and I couldn’t open it so far”

He runs a hand through his white forehead, before letting out a long sigh.

“This just keeps getting worse,” he says frustrated, shaking his head. “Fine. Give me that” he states in the end.

“Here,” you say passing it over. He studies it with his skeletal fingers, before pushing the lever that makes his wheelchair move forward towards the mainframe. A panel opens revealing a slot, in which he inserts the rod.

“Charon, can you identify the encryption in this rod?” he asks.

“Of course master. Processing.” it states. It takes much less time than you’d expect. Charon must be more advanced than anything the farm had before you left.

“It corresponds with an outdated version of an encryption system originating in the Ministry of State Security of China, master”

“Good. Please begin decryption protocols and show us the contents once you are done.”

“Processing” Charon replies, the red logo on the screens flashing a few times.

He seems really devastated. You can’t bear to look at him in this state, trying to deny Elyise’s involvement with all his being. You wander through the room instead.

You’ve never seen an Artificial Intelligence before, and Charon does not disappoint. Your hacking toolkit of a phone looks childish compared it with the futuristic mainframe. So this is what money can do...

As the story goes, this one was created by the Defenders Society former scientist, Vitruvian, before he decided to switch to the dark side.

There are all kinds of memorabilia in the old Headquarters of the Defenders Society, including old pictures of the team’s composition through the years.

Reaper looks… skeletal, just like now in them, though his bones look whiter in the past. He’s surrounded by legendary heroes. Miss Luck, Vitruvian, Hood before he joined the Rangers, Captain Blaze, Lady Airstrike… the list goes on. The last one has only a handful of members, the year Hood left to turn into a Ranger, and then there are no more pictures, as the team dissolved after Reaper retired.

He waits by the mainframe while you examine the trophies until Charon announces the decryption’s complete.

“Let’s get this done,” he says disgusted “Charon… whenever you’re ready”

“It would seem to be video footage master. Allow me to play it”

_____________________________

The screen lights up with a black and white video, displaying an unsteady visual from what seems to be some sort of hovering drone camera, filming an alley with a small store on the left.

A limousine stops on the street at the far end, the doors opening. A man and a woman come down, their backs to the camera. The man wears a suit and a round clear mask, and as he turns to say something to the driver, you can see it’s a smiley mask.

He wraps an arm around the woman, who seems rather reluctant, motioning her to walk forward. She looks back at the limousine with concern in her face… and there’s no doubt about her being a younger Elyise. She says some words to the man, who simply shakes his head and keeps motioning her forward, his other hand in his pocket…

Suddenly the glass window of the shop explodes, as a hulking figure comes trough, falling flat on the pavement. It tries to incorporate letting you take a good look at it. It’s a man inside a power suit that becomes easily recognizable. Psycopathor.

Another figure comes trough, walking over the glass. Marshall Hood, arms raised. His powers make the debris start floating around Psycopathor, who looks to be about to get it. Hood doesn’t seem to have noticed Smiley man or Elyise…

The Smiley man shoves Elyise forward, and she stumbles a few steps ahead. She looks back at the Smiley man as if to plead for something, but he simply looks at his watch. She has a defeated look on her face as she turns to face Hood.

Extending both palms towards him, she advances, making all of the floating debris falls down back to the floor. Hood turns to her, startled, but quickly responds, waves his own palm in her direction forcefully. The camera shakes violently. The Smiley man takes one step back, as everything in the alley seems to be vibrating.

Hood and Elyise stare down at each other as their powers clash. Several empty glass bottles on the ground explode under pressure. Hood looks as if he was exerting an incredible amount of strength.

Elyiss falls on her knees, visibly screaming something, but the Smiley man steps behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder as if to encourage her to continue.

She stands up and manages to advance again onto Hood, who seems to be weakening by the second. Finally, it’s Hood who stumbles backward, his abilities negated.

Psycopathor, having had time to recover, gets to his feet and leaps at Hood, who’s too slow to avoid him while resisting Elyise… Psycopathor takes Hood into the arms of his power suit, in a brutal bear-hug, crushing him. Hood seems to be screaming something…

Psycopathor finally lets go of him, his suit bloodened. Smiley man pats Elyise’s hair, satisfied with her work, advancing onto the fallen Hero as he tries to crawl away from Psycopathor. Smiley sends a few kicks at Hood’s stomach.

Elyise leans on a wall and throws up on the floor as he does.

Smiley forces Hood to roll over with his shoe, as he screams in pain. He kneels to whisper something in Hood’s ear before standing up again.

He puts on a pair of gloves from his pocket… and then produces something else… a gun.

Two quick shots, one to the chest, one to the head, and Hood is put out of his misery. It’s over.

Smiley hands over the gun to Psycopathor, who crushes it with his powered gauntlets and throws it aside. Smile walks up to Elyise, pointing at the limousine.

Elyise takes a last look before rushing behind them.

The car starts, and they are gone. A few minutes after, you can see another man walking up to the fallen Hood. It’s Charge, who tries to reanimate him. You can see him looking for a heartbeat in his chest… crying for help…

The drone turns and flies away, following the limousine. It comes down to its level, next to the back seat. Smiley opens the window, catching the camera with his hands, and the video ends.

_____________________

You are speechless.

“Who… “ you start.

“Hollow Ground”. Reaper answers drily. “Smiley mask was his thing for a short while back then. He likes to follow trends”

“So Elyise…”

“And Psycopathor yes…”

The slot opens once more and the rod comes out, Reaper taking it back in his hand.

“Alright, you’ve made your case Sidestep. We need to arrest her. Do you believe she’ll resist?”

“Given everything she’s done…” you say still looking at the black screen. “If she’s using her own mother as a weapon then I wouldn’t take my chances.”

“I understand. Tell me, does that gun of yours, have a stunning setting?”

You nod slowly.

“Let me see it… I’m not sure it can go through her suit” he asks, his mind unsettled by the idea of shooting an ally.

“Here,” you say.

He fiddles with it for a moment, before raising his glowing gaze.

“I’m sorry, Sidestep”

“For what…?”

Too late you realize his thoughts of regret were never about shooting Elyise.

The blast is almost instantaneous, making you recoil with every muscle as you watch him hold the smoking gun, still aimed at your chest.

“I’m afraid I already knew about Riley’s past sins. She was so eager to achieve some form of redemption… Her mother used her, then Hollow Ground did the same... and when she decided to stop running and face her demons, she came to me. People looking for a savior are very easy to manipulate you know? She was the perfect tool, but it was her mother who became the true star in the end.”

You try to move, but your arms are legs don’t respond as they should and your suit smells of burnt plastics and nanofabric. You are struggling as it is to cling to consciousness and the words coming from Reaper’s mouth aren’t helping.

“I’m sorry for the charade... should have knocked you down sooner, but I needed to see how much you knew… Also, I had never seen how my friend actually died,” he adds looking at the data rod. “This was a good reminder of what’s at stake”

You try to speak, but your mouth’s completely numb.

“I’m impressed that you went this far, even if you were following the wrong lead. Didn’t think the Loanshark would be in good enough condition to rat on Elyise, I mean Catastrofiend hit him really really hard! Got to love the miracles of modern medicine, right? This will force me to rush my plans quite a bit”

“W.. why?” you manage to gurgle, your tongue still numb with static.

“That’s really your question right now?” he says rising from the wheelchair he clearly doesn’t need. “What happened to the more obvious stuff like ‘What are you going to do with me, Reaper?’ Shouldn’t you be worried about that instead?”

“Tell me… w... Why…”

You can sense he is smiling, as he kneels down to talk to you.

“I really like you kid. Why… alright, I’ll tell you why. I’m doing this because this country is going straight to hell, and I’m the one who’s going to save it. I’m doing this because people like Hollow Ground...” he says pointing at the screen “...still exist unchecked! But no more. In just one month I’ve slaughtered his entire organization and run him out of town. This city is now drug-free. Catastrofiend is the future! It can sense the drugs wherever they are! Just Imagine the possibilities.”

There is something different in his mind as he speaks. Something new, unraveling like a nightmare that had remained hidden…

“Y..ou are … mad.”

“That’s a funny word Sidestep. Perhaps I am. Perhaps I’m mad with rage. Perhaps these drugs ruined everything I’ve done in my life. All my friends, dead or turned to criminals and murderers. All my aspirations ruined. I don’t even have a face to look in the mirror thanks to them… And I tried to convince myself I could achieve my goals through peaceful means, but you saw how that ended, right…? Didn’t it make your blood boil? I sensed the fire in you, that day the hospital burned down. It’s time to take the gloves off and let everyone get what they have coming. The Corporations, the politicians, the cowards like Hollow Ground and Psycopathor… I will make them all pay. Their power comes from drugs, so I’ll take it away.”

“You can’t... do that...” you say almost in whisper.

“Oh I can. With the Catrastrofiend’s help, I’m going to ignite the flame and start a war on drugs the likes this country has never seen. I’ll save the whole world If they let me, Sidestep. I really hope you’ll want to be on board with it.”

His mind is different. Something happened to him… something bad. It reminds you of… that monster’s thoughts. Whatever he’s planing it will make the massacres look tame.

“I trusted… you…”

“I haven’t changed. It’s this world that keeps sinking lower and lower. You must have seen it already…”

F… fu... ck… you…” is your best answer, given the circumstances.

“Shame. That’s the same thing Elyise said. You have really bad timing, you know? If you had joined forces this could have gone very differently. I just hope that the two of you’ll come to your senses eventually. I’ve got places to be so sweet dreams” he says pointing the gun at you once more.

All you can do is close your eyes as the second painful blast puts your lights out.

______________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fanfiction #Awan Cormac #fallen hero spoilers

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sinceileftyoublog · 5 years

Text

Top 70 Albums of 2018

Every year here at SILY, we’ve increased the number of records in our year-end list by 10. Over the last few years, that move has been mostly arbitrary, aside from the fact that we increasingly listened to more and more great albums. This year, it seemed like a necessity--there was no consensus #1 album among any of us like there was in previous years. Plus, contributors Lauren Lederman and Daniel Palella didn’t share a single common album in their individual list!

While we know there were more great records in 2018 than just the ones listed below, these were our favorites.

70. Tal National - Tantabara (FatCat)

Tantabara features the best singing on any Tal National album so far. From the long screaming notes of “Belles Reines” to the soft, lovely harmonies of “Duniya” and “Trankil”, each member of the band is given the opportunity to showcase his or her unique style and tone. Tal National is a collective, but let’s not forget the individuals that make up the great band who are now 3-for-3 over their past few records. The difference with this one is it makes them essential listening.

Read the rest of our review here.

69. Robbie Fulks & Linda Gail Lewis - Wild! Wild! Wild! (Bloodshot)

We should be thankful that we have a document of a collaboration between Chicago folk hero Robbie Fulks and the legendary piano player and singer Linda Gail Lewis. Wild! Wild! Wild! is a collection of Fulks originals and covers. On each song, he leads the band and produces. The credits list is, as expected, insane, The Flat Five part of their backing band in addition to a ton of collaborators on individual tracks.

Read the rest of our review here.

68. Brigid Mae Power - The Two Worlds (Tompkins Square)

The Two Worlds–whether referring to pastoral beauty vs. raw anger, the present vs. the past, or something else–is an album for the #MeToo era in 2018. And not just because it’s a protest against toxic masculinity, but because it allows Power to embrace and celebrate her own artistry.

Read the rest of our review here.

67. Shannen Moser - I’ll Sing (Lame-O)

If any album took me by surprise this year, it was Shannen Moser’s country-tinged I’ll Sing. It feels timeless, a piece of folk for the current age that both borrows from the genre’s storied past and the more recent history of indie rock. “Every Town” paints a vivid picture of a backyard party and the wistfulness of the unknown. “West Texas Blues” sounds like it was recorded on the fly, a quick expulsion of emotion mid-road trip. Meanwhile, “Joanna”, “Trouble”, and “One for Mama” could be from another decade, covers of dusty songs from the canon. Yet, the songs are all Shannen. Her warm vocals and the melancholy of her lyrical portraits are what kept drawing me back, lines like “If I could feel something good, I would share with you/You know I would.” There’s a plaintiveness to each song, one that rolls through the album that’s only enhanced by the emotion Moser pours into each vocal performance. - Lauren Lederman

66. Stove - ‘s Favorite Friend (Exploding In Sound)

After a string of Stove EPs occupying the space left in the wake of Ovlov’s initial breakup, a new Stove release has come to feel like an unexpected gift. Beginning to play with drum machines and softer songwriting sensibilities across their previous records, ‘s Favorite Friend comes not as a bold new direction for Stove’s sound, but a refinement of it. Steve Hartlett and Jordyn Blakely have nailed a sound that departs almost completely from the Dinosaur Jr. fuzz soup we have come to expect from Ovlov, diving into more personal anecdotes and ballads, but not totally stripping away the punch Hartlett is capable of. “Liverwurst” encapsulates this perfectly, with its breezy acoustic riff and touching lyrics, leading way to a loud but orchestrated catharsis. “Duckling Fantasy” gives the listener a welcome foray into drummer Blakely playing frontman. Its frantic feeling and confidence solidify it as one of Stove’s briefest moments of brilliance to date. Overall, ‘s Favorite Friend displays that Stove is its own unique entity, capable of great variety and very effective songwriting. - Daniel Palella

65. Sons Of Kemet - Your Queen Is A Reptile (impulse!)

The title Your Queen Is A Reptile is a strong rebuke of the British monarchy’s mistreatment of black immigrants that gains even more political weight in context of Meghan Markle. But instead of making a protest record, Sons of Kemet shone a light on other queens throughout history–black women who have made a positive impact on society at large. With co-production by Dill Harris and features from performance poet Josh Idehen and Congo Natty, Your Queen Is A Reptile takes you on a journey through a wide variety of black stories and black music.

Read the rest of the review here.

64. Joey Purp - QUARTERTHING (self-released)

My real introduction to Joey Purp was his 2016 mixtape iiiDrops and his connection to his friends in the same scene like Noname and Chance The Rapper. What was so exciting about iiiDrops was Purp’s confidence, and QUARTERTHING not only feels like a step forward for the rapper but a leap into the spotlight. Joey Purp has arrived, confidence and flow surrounded by excellent production. “24k Gold/Sanctified” kicks off the album with a sense of joy and celebration, but lyrically, it recognizes that pull back to reality, the realism of the world and its violence, going from “I’m still alive!” to “I know we still alive / But I wake up to bullets flying.” That’s a theme throughout: the weight between celebration and survival, that pull between idealism and realism. “Elastic” reminds me of a grown-up sequel to “Girls@”, and the footwork-inspired beat of “Aw Sh*t!” is infectious. And while he’s more than capable of carrying out an album on his own, Purp finds some help from local names like Ravyn Lenae and Queen Key, but also a few more instantly recognizable names like both RZA and GZA. It’s a debut for an artist who’s been creating for years, but one that revels in its confidence and self-assured boldness. - LL

63. Foodman - Aru Otoko No Densetsu (Sun Ark)

Toying for years with the traditions of Chicago’s footwork scene, there has always been a sense of child-like playfulness conveyed in Foodman’s compositions. The Japanese artist’s rhythms stutter and juke in ways we have come to expect, but the sounds themselves are the artifice of a mind operating fully on a sense of wonder. On Aru Otoko No Densetsu, Foodman strips away what we expect from a dance record, or even a simple reduction thereof. What we are left with are percussive sounds surfacing, seemingly from toys and simple objects, mingling and slowly taking form--not with an end goal or rhythm in mind, but simply with the intent of play. Despite this, there is no feeling of lackluster or aimlessness--every bleep and hit on Aru Otoko No Densetsu explores what one can do when conventions and expectations are subverted. - DP

62. Years & Years - Palo Santo (Polydor)

Olly Alexander purported to release a concept pop album where gender and sexuality don’t exist and whose title was essentially a dick joke. On paper, Years & Years’ Palo Santo sounds like an ambitious album destined only to disappoint. In reality, it’s ambitious and impresses. The trio of Alexander, Mikey Goldsworthy, and Emre Türkmen have made a forward-thinking, percussive pop record about relationships that simply bangs. Whether Alexander is reflecting about a fling with a supposedly straight man or getting over being left, he’s dancing most of the time.

Read the rest of our review here.

61. Kississippi - Sunset Blush (Alcopop!)

If you managed to catch Kississippi live this year, you’ll likely have seen a full band surrounding Zoe Reynolds, but she alone writes the band’s songs. Sunset Blush sees Reynolds tapping into dreamier, poppier indie fare compared to her last EP, the moody We Have No Future, We’re All Doomed. The shift suits her. Her voice worked well with the starker, lo-fi feeling of that EP and is just as strong on her latest. “Easier to Love” feels lush with its synth-driven melody as Reynold’s voice wraps around the sound. That’s not to say the guitar-driven tracks are few or lacking here. “Cut Yr Teeth” finds strength in circling guitars and a realization in the lyrics: “The person you made yourself out to be / Would feel sorry for what you have done to me”. If Zoe had any nervousness about pivoting to more of a pop sound, Sunset Blush proves that Kississippi effortlessly made that move. - LL

60. Kraus - Path (Terrible)

Kraus’ Path is a triumphant effort of pushing sounds so deeply into the red that their proclamations are felt completely despite such careful shrouding. The Texas artist never felt quite a part of his hometown scene, and this isolation and yearning is felt in every blistering moment of Path. The slow, clean build of “Bum” gives way to an absolutely crushing wall of distortion, giving just enough headroom for Kraus’ adept and feverish drumming, as well as his mangled vocals, to cut through. It is all around a unique entry into both shoegaze and experimental music at large, showing what can be done with simple tools pushed to the point of breaking. The emotional quality of this record cannot be understated, even if it cannot be fully understood. - DP

59. Protomartyr - Consolation EP (Domino)

For a band as consistent as Protomartyr, destined to put out a new collection of movingly bleak post punk every couple years, it’s remarkable that an off-year EP would be just as good as a full-length. It’s even better that the EP offers something new for the band. Containing some of their best songs to date, Consolation, recorded by R. Ring’s Mike Montgomery and featuring Kelley Deal on two of its four tracks, is at times more sad and at times more hopeful than anything the band’s ever done.

Read the rest of our review here.

58. Now, Now - Saved (Trans)

Six years after the release of the atmospheric Threads, Now, Now returned with Saved, which shifted their sound to glossy, danceable tracks that still capture some of the desperate, emo bend of the band’s previous output. That’s not to say that a sense of desperation of heightened emotions detracts from Saved. On the contrary, the album encapsulates those seemingly unquenchable feelings of desire into demands (“I want it all” on standout “MJ”) and declarations (“Don’t you know I’m desperate for you?”), giving the synth-focused music an even more commanding presence. On lead single “SGL”, KC Dalager purrs, “Give in to me.” It’s easy to slip into the slick, desire-and-devotion fueled world of Saved, so let yourself in and enjoy the ride. - LL

57. drowse - Cold Air (The Flenser)

It is hard to not draw comparisons from Droswe’s Cold Air to Have A Nice Life’s reissued classic Deathconsciousness. Themes and feelings of loss and hopelessness are carried by crushing guitars, washed out vocals, and a penchant for doom and gloom. What Cold Air excels at, however, is making this sense of dread feel so personal and connected to the artist. Kyle Bates’ ability to make sonic cacophony convey such personal pain takes his efforts just as much into the realm of Mount Eeerie as it does Have a Nice Life. This isn’t romanticizing the apocalypse--this is a real and unguarded glimpse into the personal dread of one coming back from the brink of death. - DP

56. Thalia Zedek Band - Fighting Season (Thrill Jockey)

You can run, or you can hide. You can love, or you can fight. Or, you can do both sets of both, or all of them at once. Picking your battles–that’s what Thalia Zedek’s Fighting Season is all about. Today, the struggle we all share is balancing the personal and the political, and Zedek dives right in on her latest record. Written–you guessed it–in the wake of the 2016 U.S. presidential election, the album shows a woman whose voice is weary but whose instrumental chops are ready to battle.

Read the rest of our review here.

55. The Sidekicks - Happiness Hours (Epitaph)

If you’re a fan of The Sidekicks, you’re aware of the magic that awaits in each of their albums, the joy that radiates through the crowd at one of their shows. And if you’re not in the know, someone out there is ready to share with you the virtues of the Ohio band. Their fifth album Happiness Hours glimmers and shines like a Midwest summer. Bright guitars give each song a slick, competent indie rock sheen, one you’d want to blast while walking along a sun-drenched sidewalk. But within each song are lyrics that range from tongue-in-cheek to self-deprecating, juxtaposing so well with the bounce in the music. If you don’t know The Sidekicks, take this as your call to action: go give Happiness Hours a listen and then see how many times you catch yourself recommending it to someone else. - LL

54. Skee Mask - Compro (Ilian Tape)

Similar to Objekt’s brilliant Cocoon Crush, Skee Mask’s Compro seeks to explore the intersection of dance music and ambient music. Unlike Objekt, however, Skee Mask does so by introducing and slowly unmasking more traditional forms. Break-beats and dance floor standards surface among more haunting sounds. Whereas Cocoon Crush swirls and unravels, Compro takes a veteran sensibility for rhythm and allows it to breathe and build, firmly but satisfyingly swaying between danceable cuts and soundscapes in a wholly refreshing manner. - JM

53. Olivia Chaney - Shelter (Nonesuch)

Singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist Olivia Chaney takes traditional forms of music and standards and imbues them with the type of beauty that can come only from vulnerability and doubt. Shelter, her most recent album, is filled with moments, stories, and broader feelings of letting one’s guard down–whether that’s being open to embrace or being honest with yourself–and the benefits of doing so. “Bare weakness open / There hides strength,” Chaney sings on standout “IOU” over dobro riffs way bouncier compared to her normally downtempo material. That’s the essential idea behind Shelter, an album named after a word that’s got an increasingly negative connotation, whether to describe over-protection of kids or living in a sociopolitical bubble. The type of shelter Chaney sings about is a safe space where she’s supported, can admit to both her shortcomings and her “demons”, and ultimately thrive.

Read the rest of our review here.

52. Restorations - LP5000 (Tiny Engines)

Year-end lists are a great way to encapsulate achievements from the last twelve months, but they’re also a great way to look back and revisit a specific time and place. A listen to Restorations’ cheekily titled LP5000, their first album since 2014, not only shows a band refining their sound but presenting us with a portrait of this year. Punk guitars and Jon Loudon’s tender, graveled voice shine throughout each track, leaving no wasted space in the album. For a short run time, Restorations has a lot to say. It’s a concise, muscular album that clocks in at just under 30 minutes, but Restorations doesn’t need much time to cover the way neighborhoods change and gentrify (”The Red Door”, “Caretaker”), the uncharted territory of suddenly being responsible for more than yourself (”Nonbeliever”), to calling out what so many of us think as we check our phones for the twentieth time in a day: “You’re taking a sip of your coffee / Glance at your phone and you mumble, ‘I hope he dies.’”

It’s an album that commiserates, that takes the time to pull up alongside you if you want to have a conversation or would rather shout along the lyrics, a shared catharsis either way. - LL

51. 공중도둑 (Mid-Air Thief) - 무너지기 (Crumbling) (Mid-Air Thief)

South Korean artist Mid-Air Thief is the musical enigma I never expected this year. Crumbling carries a sense of psychedelia so wondrous and un-forced that wistfully carries the listener through a joyous array of synthesizers and textures. Punctuated by acoustic guitars and soft vocals, this record drifts in ways and through spaces previously untouched. A mysterious release from a seemingly unknown artist, it lends itself to the same sense of wonder explored by many Japanese artists such as Cornelius and Fishmans. Here, however, this curiosity is not tethered by collage, but rather by careful and euphoric movement through moods and spaces, keeping its palette and scope refined but always tinkered with. - DP

50. Sleep - The Sciences (Third Man)

Earlier this year, Sleep released The Sciences, their first new album in 15 years, comprised of some songs that were totally new and some that were written during the sessions for their opus Dopesmoker. But when and where Sleep tracks were born has become increasingly irrelevant since their songs thrive from losing a sense of time and place. They exist seemingly with no beginning or end. And so do the albums themselves.

Read the rest of our review here.

49. The Internet - Hive Mind (Columbia)

Hive Mind is their long-awaited follow-up to Ego Death, and it’s influenced by the aforementioned time away from home and newfound fame and acclaim. For one, Syd hands some singing duties over to Lacy. While previously, especially live, she seemed shy over the course of a full album or show, here, she takes full advantage of the songs she sings, showing off a shiny swagger. Both Syd and Lacy hand over production lead to Christopher Allan Smith. What results is a great album because everyone sounds fresh. The band is wise without being weathered.

Read the rest of our review here.

48. Marisa Anderson - Cloud Corner (Thrill Jockey)

Marisa Anderson’s Thrill Jockey debut Cloud Corner reminds me of something Red River Dialect’s David Morris said to me earlier this year: “Relaxation is a form of growing.” Inspired less by the nihilist expanse of Ennio Morricone scores and more by the necessary buoyancy of Tuareg desert blues, Cloud Corner acts not just as a safety net for Anderson but replenishment during a time of political chaos.

Read the rest of our review here.

47. Half Waif - Lavender (Cascine)

Listening to Lavender, the new album by Half Waif, it’s hard to believe the album is less than 40 minutes long. A bold, maximal, exhausting, and ultimately brilliant affair, Lavender was created by Nandi Rose Plunkett, Adan Carlo, and Zack Levine, all at one point in Pinegrove. Plunkett’s voice and lyrics are centerfold. The album’s title refers to lavender that her grandmother, 95 years old at the time the album was written (and now deceased), would pick and boil. Naturally, the album’s about aging and collapse–of people, of relationships, of the United States of America.

Read the rest of our review here.

46. Bettye Lavette - Things Have Changed (Verve)

On Things Have Changed, LaVette doesn’t just cover lesser-known songs. She covers some of Dylan’s arguably weakest material and makes it her own. Appearances by Keith Richards and Trombone Shorty don’t matter. This album is all LaVette.

Read the rest of our review here.

45. Parquet Courts - Wide Awake! (Rough Trade)

A punk album you can dance to: It’s not a novel idea or even always a good one, but Parquet Courts have made that and more with their latest Wide Awake! With none other than Danger Mouse producing, the band has made a spiritual if not entirely aesthetic sibling to albums like There’s A Riot Goin’ On and Maggot Brain, one that combines their usual biting, witty, and respectful social commentary with heartfelt personal stories. It’s their greatest achievement yet.

Read the rest of our review here.

44. Ruston Kelly - Dying Star (Rounder)

“How the hell do I return to normal / If I'm always ending up flat on my back?”

Ruston Kelly has been through hell, and Dying Star is his document of that time, from overdose to his “return to normal.” For someone who’s made a career out of writing songs for other artists, Dying Star is Kelly’s most focused and refined effort so far, offering sharply painted portraits of addiction and heartbreak. It’s the album of an artist who has been to the brink and stared down the options on either side of a thin line.

Inspired by outlaw lyricists, there is no charm in Kelly’s depictions of drug use and the destruction that so often follows, but there is emotion deep in each track, and even humor (see “Faceplant”). A masterful storyteller, Kelly’s album ultimately celebrates survival and the emergence of a songwriter exorcising his own demons. And if that wasn’t enough to get you to listen, Kelly shows off his figure skating skills (yes, really, he once trained in the sport) in the video for the haunting “Son of a Highway Daughter”. - LL

43. Damien Jurado - The Horizon Just Laughed (Secretly Canadian)

The horizon laughs at Damien Jurado on a song where he illustrates a time he considered ending his life. “The clock is a murderer / My time is her burden,” he sings on the incredible “The Last Great Washington State” on his gorgeous The Horizon Just Laughed. It’s true–everybody dies. But Jurado wants to be there for his own death. “What good is living if you can’t write your ending?” he sings. A move from the Pacific Northwest to California has stirred up a lot in Jurado’s mind while simultaneously spurring some of the breeziest Laurel Canyon or 70s AM radio pop he’s ever made.

Read the rest of our review here.

42. Bonny Doon - Longwave (Woodsist)

The songs of Longwave are heartfelt but lighthearted. There is a personal and relatable touch that accompanies it’s 10 track tenure. “A Lotta Things” explores of sense of personal shortcoming, a desire to shirk one’s responsibilities and expectations. But it is held together by an almost sarcastic quality that keeps it from veering into overtly moody territory (“I’m faking my own death, so I can get some rest”). “I Am Here (I Am Alive)” borrows from David Berman’s sonic frontier while maintaining its own sense of brooding and listlessness. “Where Do You Go?” captures and grounds this listlessness with more anecdotes of youthful daydreaming. The way Longwave winds down with a slowed down version of “Try to Be”’s playful riff is a fitting closer to an album whose aim seems to be to wander. - DP

41. Hop Along - Bark Your Head Off, Dog (Saddle Creek)

Listening to Bark Your Head Off, Dog, the incredible new album from Hop Along, I can’t help but wonder how in the hell lead singer Frances Quinlan has the time to think about all she does. Like all of us in this day and age, she wrestles with the idea that even though everyone dies, it’s important to have empathy for those with a harder road to the eventual endpoint. But that’s not where Quinlan’s mind stops. As everyone else broadly analyzes the tale of Cain and Abel, she wonders what their childhood relationship was like. As everyone is aghast at the state of Arkansas rushing lethal injections before the drug reaches its expiration date, Quinlan thinks about the vacation of the judge who presided over the decision. As a songwriter, she’s able to focus on individual events as representative of something larger. Her illustration of her formative experiences causes her to reflect on those of others, and likewise, us on our own.

Read the rest of our review here.

40. Screaming Females - All At Once (Don Giovanni)

I never would have seen All At Once coming from Screaming Females. Three years ago, they traded the Steve Albini-produced punk of Ugly for the Matt Bayles-addled plodding sludge of Rose Mountain. The results were predictable. However, working again with Bayles, generally more known for his work on post-rock, post-hardcore, and metalcore albums, has provided the band to establish a flourishing relationship with the producer. Marissa Paternoster and company have made an album that’s the perfect sonic manifestation of her anxieties and obsessions, each song essential and traversing a different style.

Read the rest of our review here.

39. Glenn Jones - The Giant Who Ate Himself and Other New Works for 6 & 12 String Guitar (Thrill Jockey)

Glenn Jones communicates through his guitar, and never more so than on The Giant Who Ate Himself and Other New Works for 6 & 12 String Guitar. Recorded in New Jersey with Laura Baird and engineer Matthew Avezado, it’s an album that’s at times buoyant and at times melancholy but always transparent. Jones’ strings vibrate on the opening title track, alternating between major and minor chords. The instrument and the medium is just as important as the stories themselves. The arpeggio guitar lines with Flamenco flourishes on “Everything Ends”, the dissonance of the swaying “The Was and The Is”, the blues picking of “Even the Snout and the Tail”–for much of the record, Jones is coming up with contemporary standards.

Read the rest of our review here.

38. YOB - Our Raw Heart (Relapse)

YOB lead singer Mike Scheidt suffered an intestinal disease that threatened his very presence on this earth, let alone during the making of the band’s new album Our Raw Heart. Hearing the album, you’d think it was recorded after recovery when Scheidt was so thankful to be alive he couldn’t help but shout to the heavens. That it was recorded during his time of turmoil only makes the record more life affirming.

Read the rest of our review here.

37. The Field - Infinite Moment (Kompakt)

I was lucky enough to see German producer The Field perform 2 months ago. A night of house music and friends was a well needed break from the scenes I typically find myself in. I recall an energy in the room, a sort of joy typically found on the dancefloor. When The Field began his set, the eerie, distant vocals of “Made of Steel. Made of Stone” might have brought this energy to a halt. But the moodiness of these infinitely stretched notes took the energy of the room and seemed to crystalize it. Infinite Moment could not be a more apt title for this record--I saw its captivating hypnosis take effect on a room full of club-goers. The dancing didn’t cease; it just felt suspended in time. Throughout his set and throughout Infinite Moment, there is a persistent feeling of moodiness, an intangible emotion that is preserved indefinitely, reverberating through the record’s 65 minutes. It’s a worthwhile journey, and one that asks the listener to surrender to peace. - DP

36. U.S. Girls - In A Poem Unlimited (4AD)

The 6th album from musician Meghan Remy as U.S. Girls is a self-described protest, like lots of her other work, but it’s an unlikely funky one. On In A Poem Unlimited, the experimental pop artist recorded with a live band and worked with co-producer Steve Chahley (Neko Case) to make a record that takes just as much from Parliament/Funkadelic and Sly & The Family Stone as it does art rock, tackling the power of patriarchal institutions and lauding the women fighting for some share of the power. But it also notably sympathizes with the everyday struggles women experience without wallowing, using its instrumentation as a celebration for a changing moment in time. It’s fitting that In A Poem Unlimited came out right after so many powerful men have finally faced the consequences of their actions because it dares to be joyous despite all reasons for despair.

Read the rest of our review here.

35. Let’s Eat Grandma - I’m All Ears (Transgressive)

I can’t help but think that the vitriol over the band name Let’s Eat Grandma has had a little to do with the fact that the music comes from two teenage girls. Sure, to some, the band name is the type of phrase that’s often followed with “that should be a band name,” but a simple Google search reveals that the phrase is often used as an example of why commas are important. It’s a tongue-in-cheek move made by the duo of Jenny Hollingworth and Rosa Walton, who have followed up their debut I, Gemini with I’m All Ears, an assured album of “experimental sludge pop”. Despite amazing production from Faris Badwan, SOPHIE, and David Wrench, the album is undeniably the duo’s. Its sequencing is perhaps the best of any album all year–it gets better as it goes along. The album itself follows many of its best songs; it starts cautiously and becomes ominous. And it couldn’t have been made by anybody but these two girls.

Read the rest of our review here.

34. Soccer Mommy - Clean (Fat Possum)

Sophie Allison’s debut Clean wraps you up in its world completely, with both its lyrics and warm guitar tones. It’s an album filled with anecdotes that feel personal and universal, the reflections and musings of a young woman navigating relationships of all kinds. It’s revelatory and familiar, soft and angular. Take the opening images of “Still Clean” and the way Allison positions dipping a bloody maw into clear water. Lyrically, the album vacillates between ”I don’t want to be your fucking dog” and “I wanna be the one who makes your stomach tied”, but it doesn’t reflect indecision. Rather, Allison captures what so many of us know so well, whether we’re in our early twenties or beyond: Our desires and relationships are never so simple, but always valid. There’s never a clear answer to the why of it all, but the album’s centerpiece, “Scorpio Rising”, seems to settle on the idea that experience and the chaos that is the universe and genetics might help explain some of it away: “And I’m just a victim of changing planets / My Scorpio rising and my parents.” That this is Soccer Mommy’s official debut can only bode well for the musician’s future output. - LL

33. Culture Abuse - Bay Dream (Epitaph)

Culture Abuse aren’t just a band. They’re a community, they’re on a mission, and their live shows are raucous indoctrinations into their world. Like their Bandcamp bio says, they’re definitely a good time, and Bay Dream’s sunniness feels like a drive down a coastal highway with salt-sprayed air flowing through open windows.

A little less aggressive than their debut Peach, Bay Dream comes in with a stoned, fuzzy optimism that ripples through each track. A song like “Bee Kind to the Bugs” might not work if frontman David Kelling and the rest of the band weren’t so damn earnest. A lyric like “S'why I like you around /' Cause you make me feel good” might not land without a hook, but Culture Abuse’s confidence shines. It’s an album I found myself turning to throughout the year, one that added a little bounce and ray of joy to a monotonous commute or even another rough news day. While Peach was an introduction to the world of Culture Abuse, Bay Dream feels more like is its manifesto. - LL

32. Playboi Carti - Die Lit (AWGE/Interscope)

2 years ago, before Playboi Carti’s debut commercial release, there existed only a small string of Soundcloud tracks to his name. There was an insatiable desire from fans to hear more; I recall playing “Broke Boi” on near-constant repeat. Its simple, airy beat and unending barrage of ad-libs, broken up only by a simple refrain, was so effective and perfect. Carti plays to these strengths--simplicity, energy, and raw confidence, paired with perfectly complementary beat selection--on Die Lit. Much of the production is handled by frequent collaborator P’ierre Bourne, who’s refreshing take on modern rap production has been making huge waves in the past couple years. The most important quality of Die Lit, though, is its completely unrelenting momentum. The beats are unendingly fun, and when Carti is done playing with a track, it moves right forward to more of the same sugar-high. Its frequent comparisons to punk are apt but reductive--the energy and ethos are there, but what Carti accomplishes on Die Lit is unique and a welcome entry in one of the strangest years for hip hop in awhile. Between its never ending joy and a long list of rap’s finest collaborators, Die Lit does so much with such simple terms. - DP

31. Emma Ruth Rundle - On Dark Horses (Sargent House)

To say that misery makes great art is all too fetishistic. Emma Ruth Rundle has made an incredible album about love, creativity, pain, and trauma all at once. Inspired by everything from her past experiences with substance abuse to her move to Louisville and musical and life partnership with Jaye Jayle’s Evan Patterson, Rundle and her collaborators (Patterson, bassist Todd Cook, drummer Dylan Nadon, recording artist Kevin Ratterman) turned On Dark Horses, her third studio album, into a crash, burn, and come out stronger emotional affair. They thrust you in the middle of her head-space on “Fever Dreams”, its bluesy, creepy guitars, keys, and drums starting like the song’s been going on for hours. “Release me away from fever dreams,” Rundle asks, knowing full well her confusion will not subside, as the song slows down in the middle to allow space for swirling, noisy, psychedelic riffs.

Read the rest of our review here.

30. Odetta Hartman - Old Rockhounds Never Die (Memphis Industries/Northern Spy)

Produced by her partner Jack Inslee, who combines beats and field recordings to give Hartman’s tales a sense of space, time, and place, Rockhounds is an album of clear, disparate elements that somehow combine beautifully. I’m not talking about the mere echo on the banjos of the opening track. More like the electronic percussion and static of “Cowboy Song” mirroring her foggy memories of riding a train from San Francisco to Chicago with a real cowboy, remembering his tales of people he met. It’s the unexpected dissonant violins and vocal entrances of the whispered “Widow’s Peak”, originally a studio mistake but resulting in a sense of spontaneity. Or the drifting instrumental autoharp interlude of “Auto”, the stainless steel bowl instrumental “Freedom”, even the electronic beat of “Sweet Teeth” that couldn’t be aesthetically further from the limber banjo picking.

Read the rest of our review here.

29. Mint Field - Pasar de las Luces (Innovative Leisure)

Sure, Pasar De Las Luces is ripe to be described as ethereal, nostalgic, Interpol-meets-Low–whatever. That’s all true. But a track like “Club de Chicas” separates them from the standard descriptors, starting slow with an echo on the snare and building up to a high-speed pop chase and exhaling back to stasis. In a sense, Pasar De Las Luces–translated to “Passing Through the Lights”–is really an album that encapsulates constant movement and texture, always advancing, always there.

Read the rest of our review here.

28. Wild Pink - Yolk in the Fur (Tiny Engines)

You know Yolk in the Fur is going to be unlike anything Wild Pink has ever made from the first breathy synthesizers. “Burger Hill” is a shift in aesthetic for the Brooklyn band who makes some sort of variation on heartland rock. What remains is their specificity, the sense of time and place that an equally expansive band like The War On Drugs only has on one or two songs. Singer John Ross, looking down, describes the setting as being in a “prenatal snow globe.” The image is layered and loaded–a scene in a life, neatly packaged and edited before it even starts. Throughout Yolk in the Fur, it seems like Ross no longer needs to make snow globes out of things that are infinite. “I woke up too fast from a dream,” he sings later on “Burger Hill”, starting his journey to accept the boundlessness of life.

Read the rest of our review here.

27. The Beths - Future Me Hates Me (Carpark)

You might think an album called Future Me Hates Me would be sadsack and self-aggrandizing. But like the title track from which it takes its name, it’s instead a tongue-in-cheek look at contemporary relationship anxiety. It also knows when to turn the sincerity on and off. New Zealand’s The Beths, jazz-trained musicians who play crunchy guitar pop punk, have delivered an instrumentally explosive and confident debut filled with harmonies, hooks, and feeling.

Read the rest of our review here.

26. Eric Chenaux - Slowly Paradise (Constellation)

Paris-via-Canada guitarist Eric Chenaux has given us his most confident, at ease, and best record with Slowly Paradise. Usually solitary, this time around, Chenaux teamed up with Ryan Driver to write the lyrics that sit atop his gorgeous compositions. He recorded it with Cyril Harrison behind the boards (Sandro Perri is credited with engineering work), and the results are as cohesive as they are adventurous.

Read the rest of our review here.

25. Eli Keszler - Stadium (Shelter Press)

The tone and melody of the synthesizers on “The Driver Stops”, a standout track from Eli Keszler’s latest album Stadium, recalls a film noir or mystery. That’s funny, because Keszler’s sonics cause similar quizzical reactions. Even if there’s a video of him playing it all live, Stadium yields the most “How did he do that?”s per minute. He plays his instruments live but uses Sensory Percussion drum software, and so the balance between control and randomness is vulnerable and ambiguous. Nonetheless, he’s managed to create a cohesive album of sounds inspired by his move to Manhattan--lots of randomness, little control--and specifically his East Village apartment. Some of the tracks, like “Measurement Doesn’t Change the System at All” and “Flying Floor for U.S. Airways”, feature buoyant jazzy snare rolls and ripples of one-off high-pitched synthesizer tone, anchored only by perhaps a steady bass line. No matter what, there’s always anxiety. Queasy Mellotron pervades “Lotus Awnings”, and the relentless plinking on “Which Swarms Around It” render the calming cymbals neutralized. Stadium is ironically named--it’s the huge soundtrack for living alone, together, for city commutes and unit isolation, where you do your best to drown out the noise but ultimately accept its inevitability. - Jordan Mainzer

24. Lucy Dacus - Historian (Matador)

“The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit,” begins Lucy Dacus’ great new album Historian. You assume she’s talking about a first kiss only until the next line: “I mistakenly called them by your name.” It sets up an album that messes with your interpretation of time and space, about everything from her breakup with the abusive former bassist of her band, the death of her grandmother, and the loss of her Christian identity. Dacus, in preparation for a new record more ambitious in scope than her debut No Burden (1 track but 12 minutes longer) read epic novels. You can hear it in the complexity of the instrumentation, like on the 7-minute “Pillars of Truth”, and in the constant change of point of view or addressee. Sometimes, as on “Addictions”, she talks to herself. Other times, she chastises or admires others. The whole record is, to an extent, funny and self-deprecating. It’s mostly self-aware.

Read the rest of our review here.

23. Drug Church - Cheer (Pure Noise)

"At least there’s some self in self-destruction,” vocalist Patrick Kindlon sings on “Foam Pit”, one of many songs on Drug Church’s Cheer that chides corporatism and individualism. Like the best songs from Pissed Jeans or KEN Mode, Cheer is a self-hating, sarcastic, satirical take on the fragile masculinity present in both the economically oppressed and the oppressor. Opener “Grubby” hilariously decries both adult male children and the scumbags with “handshakes and lies” in their pockets. “There’s a guy with a search history darker than a sea trench,” Kindlon sings on “Unlicensed Hall Monitor”, the title character a perfect metaphor for undeserved power tripping. Sure, Kindlon shows some sympathy--the twinkling “Strong References” recalls his experience being pushed to uncomfortable situations as a male model, and “Weed Pin” is call to increase the minimum wage--but for the most part, the chugging hardcore punk perfectly complements the bratty nature of the subjects he inherits. “If you live long enough, you’ll do something wrong enough,” he sings on “Unlicensed Guidance Counselor” before describing crimes that, well, most people don’t commit. “Conflict Minded”’s illustration of selfishness, while on the surface level exaggerated, hits close to home. “Leave your Sentra in the tow lane / Take off from your brother’s wedding / Pull the plug on mom days early / This is your window, don’t you blow it,” Kindlon chants. If you don’t have that guy in your family or aren’t perpetually ashamed by narcissists in positions of power, Drug Church make it at least easy to empathize with their victims. - JM

22. Eartheater - IRISIRI (PAN)

What makes us human, and what makes us individuals? These admittedly unanswerable questions are at the center of IRISIRI, the third album for Queens-based multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Alexandra Drewchin as Eartheater. On the record, Drewchin combines voice--both her three-octave chords, live guests, and sampled chatter from humans--with electronics, to blur the lines between technology and the self. Despite her vocal talents, much of Drewchin’s singing is less stunningly operatic or beautiful and more imperfect and at times cacophonous, contrasting the beatific harp strumming on “Peripheral” and the bouncing hip-hop beat on “Inkling”. But despite who’s voice is at the helm, Drewchin’s lyrical wordplay furthers her aims. “OS In Vitro” juxtaposes “computer” with “you can’t compute her,” while on video-only release “Claustra”, Drewchin alternates between “the owning of my loneliness” and “the end of the loaning of my onliness,” cementing a non-ideal state like being alone as the more personal aim than the ideal companionship. Appropriately, despite star turns from Odwalla1221′s Chloe Maratta and the ever-dominant Moor Mother, IRISIRI is unequivocally Drewchin’s statement of self. “Nobody’s looking” repeats a collection of ambiguous, pitch-shifted voices on “Slyly Child”. But for Drewchin, it doesn’t matter who looks or who doesn’t. She’s there; are you willing to listen? -JM

21. Makaya McCraven - Universal Beings (International Anthem)

Universal Beings opens with chatter. Usually, on an album it’s a gimmick, a thematically forced insertion of a document of capital “a” Artists at work. “A Queen’s Intro”, however, is crowd talk before a performance, introducing the various levels of dialogue at work within Makaya McCraven’s defining album to date. The band players–in this case, cellist Tomeka Reid, bassist Dezron Douglas, vibraphonist Joel Ross, and harpist Brandee Younger–are in collaboration, improvising off of each other. There’s also a level of interaction between band and audience, though, and it’s a fitting introduction to an album that McCraven wished to break down barriers between “scenes” that can often be too academic, insular, and exclusive, whether in terms of social status, class, race, or gender. Launching into a decidedly old school hip hop beat and removing yet another barrier–genre–McCraven and company are ready to go to work.

Read the rest of our review here.

20. Tony Molina - Kill The Lights (Slumberland)

Got a 20 minute commute but still want to listen to a full album? Like power pop? Kill The Lights is for you. Tony Molina’s latest is not just a collection of fantastic spurts of ideas. I haven’t heard an album with this much emotion and style conveyed in such little time since Joyce Manor’s Never Hungover Again. The influences are all over the board--Molina favorite The Beatles on “Now That She’s Gone” and “When She Leaves”, jangly college rock on the melancholy “Give He Take You”, Nico’s “These Days” on the fingerpicked “Wrong Town”--but it’s the combination of the concision of Guided By Voices and the sweets of Big Star that makes Kill The Lights sound so classic. On “Look Inside Your Mind/Losin’ Touch”, Molina crams in two songs, organ-led pop to folk, with a guitar solo and piano outro to boot. The final track, the instrumental “Outro”, combines country-esque twang with baroque piano pop. You can’t help but wonder that if Molina packs this much in a 14 minute opus, does he have an epic in him? But then you realize that Kill The Lights is perfect as is. - JM

19. Laurel Halo - Raw Silk Uncut Wood (Latency)

A departure from previous efforts for the revered Hyperdub label, Raw Silk Uncut Wood is somehow more grounded than Laurel Halo’s dancefloor cuts. This comes through both in instrumentation from Oliver Coates and Eli Kezsler (previous collaborator and uniquely frantic percussion virtuoso), but also in the path these pieces take.These tracks are unfractured, moving forward and building in ways that are both calming and fulfilling. Raw Silk Uncut Wood is a record built upon a generous amount of space, allowing Halo’s excellent sense of texture and composition to take the reins. - DP

18. Rival Consoles - Persona (Erased Tapes)

The new album from Rival Consoles, Persona, is purportedly inspired by Ingmar Bergman’s film of the same name, but such context is not necessary. Persona is very much an album to experience in the present moment. Its use of analogue-heavy synthesizers, acoustic and electric instruments, and effects pedals toy with perception, space, light, and darkness. In listening to it, you experience emotions ranging from melancholy to joy, and for that, it’s complex in its parts but simple in its sum.

Read the rest of our review here.

17. Camp Cope - How to Socialise & Make Friends (Run for Cover)

With anger, earth-shattering power, and empathy, Camp Cope decry selfish and self-obsessed men, call out sexism in the music industry, and lift each other up--and that’s just in Track 1. “The Opener” is lead singer Georgia “Maq” McDonald’s simultaneous look back on her former relationship with The Smith Street Band’s Wil Wagner, who always tried to one-up her with his laments, and her rallying cry for inclusion. “It’s another man telling us we’re missing a frequency / Show ‘em, Kelly!” Maq screams, inviting bassist Kelly-Dawn Hellmrich to show off her bass chops, bucking tradition for something slinkier, rawer, and better. Recorded in 2.5 days, Camp Cope’s How to Socialise & Make Friends is a melancholic, yet inspiring statement of female empowerment and togetherness. “The Face of God” is Maq’s tale of sexual assault that illustrates a thought process all-too-common among victims, unforgivably due to a culture of toxic masculinity: It can’t be, his music is too good. Ultimately, the band do their part to combat it--“Your voice is loud in my goddamn head, boy,” Maq sings on “Animal & Real”--but also find a common humanity in good people, in the man filling a gas tank on Christmas day, in Maq’s mother who doesn’t like her tattoos, and in her late father who died from complications from prostate cancer. The last story is told on acoustic tearjerker closer “I’ve Got You”. “I’ve got you / You’ve got me, too,” Maq declares to her father, but also to anyone who supports her and each other. - JM

16. Petal - Magic Gone (Run for Cover)

Honesty is a word and a concept we seem to throw around these days, but it can save your life. Magic Gone documents a moment for Kiley Lotz, the artist behind Petal, where coming to terms with her own queerness and mental health comes to a head. But it’s that release, that moment of honesty and acceptance, that can change everything for the better, that can mean survival. “Will they love me if I am honest?” Lotz asks on “Carve”. It’s not just a document of a moment of reckoning for Lotz, but further cements Petal as a songwriter with a knack for poetry in lyrics and gentle, sometimes stark instrumentation that builds a world for those words to live. Take album closer “Stardust”, which begins with a sole, lilting piano that frames Kiley’s clear voice as the song builds. Though the song deals with the strangeness of falling out of love, there’s a sense of hope in the way the final line “I can’t say I didn’t love you,” repeats as guitars crash, only to give way to that same lone piano. - LL

15. Foxing - Nearer My God (Triple Crown)

Foxing has always been able to distill that apocalyptic feeling into their music, taking moments that seem small on the outside and making them monumental. Nearer My God is an expansion on the same idea. Named for the hymn that also soundtracks the dystopian doomsday video CNN was set to play at the literal end of the world, Foxing seem to take everything they can grab and push the limits of just how much one album can hold while not only remaining cohesive but remaining so purely Foxing, too. To simply call it ambitious feels like an understatement.

First single “Slapstick” eased listeners into this new soundscape, offering an approachable and familiar sound, horns coming in towards the end, always a highlight to a live show. But you can find almost every genre within the tracks of the album: Conor Murphy’s R&B-tinged falsetto on multiple tracks, near trap beats, the proggy chaos of “Gameshark”, the absolute shredding guitar solo in “Lich Prince”, and the wait-are-those-bagpipes?-yes-those-are-bagpipes climax of “Bastardizer”. That’s just a start, and to dive into the lyrics of the album would take much more space than this review.

Ever evolving, Foxing has made a statement with Nearer My God, taking the raw emotion fans know and stretching it with finesse. The apocalypse never sounded so foreboding, so danceable, and so damn good. - LL

14. SOPHIE - OIL OF EVERY PEARL’s UN-INSIDES (Transgressive/Future Classic)

The title of SOPHIE’s debut album is an alternate way of spelling “I love every person’s insides,” a sentiment that pervades the stunning release. First hinted at in 2017 with the release of “It’s Okay To Cry”, the first SOPHIE song to feature her own vocals and image and reveal she is living as a trans woman, OIL OF EVERY PEARL’s UN-INSIDES is a showcase of sexual liberation and aggression and a celebration of individuality. The maximalist production and soulful vocals from Calia Thompson-Hannant, aka Cecile Believe (fka Mozart’s Sister) of BDSM anthem “Ponyboy” propels the album into a sort of ironically synthesized humanity. The pitch-shifted vocals on “Infatuation” become a moving falsetto, and the chopped and screwed singing on “Not Okay” are grounded in comparison to the alien crunch of the instrumentation. But the album peaks at the cheerleader chant of “Immaterial”. “Without my legs or my hair / Without my genes or my blood / With no name and with no type of story / Where do I live?” sings Thompson-Hannant. The answer? Everywhere, as long as there are people who love people. - JM

13. Earl Sweatshirt - Some Rap Songs (Tan Cressida/Columbia)

Earl Sweatshirt has so long been mired by a mystique stemming from young stardom and talent that, for better or worse, has been hard to shake. And though we seem to have been granted glimpses into his true self on previous records, his greatest achievement to date, Some Rap Songs, leans fully and perfectly into the haze that surrounds his persona. His tongue-in-cheek wordplay and seemingly effortless delivery have drawn comparisons to the likes of Madvillainy. But the likeness is thin--Earl’s aim is not simply to toy with language and meter. There is an intangible but ever present mood that dangles in front of you through all 24 minutes of Some Rap Songs. Fractured jazz samples and static make up a wall of mist, with Earl peeking through for brief but brilliant nuggets of wisdom and personal anecdotes. - DP

12. Low - Double Negative (Sub Pop)

BJ Burton strikes again. Though he worked with Low on Ones and Sixes, it was this year’s Double Negative that was a true radical shift in sound for the band. Thematically, it’s inspired by everything from an injury Sparhawk suffered to the band members justifying their religion with liberal thought and today’s political world. But a sense of sadness, as always, presents itself through the stunning atmosphere. Alan Sparhawk’s voice oscillates, barely audible on the hissing “Quorum”, thumping “Dancing And Blood”, and whirring “Tempest”. Mimi Parker cries on the shimmering “Fly” and hymnal “Always Up”. But it’s “Always Trying To Work It Out” that actually combines the old and the new. Over a pseudo-hip hop beat and angular, warbling guitar, the two’s auto-tuned vocals flourish over a bed of swirling noise that could find itself on a previous record like The Great Destroyer. Looking back and looking forward, Low march on. - JM

11. Young Fathers - Cocoa Sugar (Ninja Tune)

With Cocoa Sugar, Young Fathers become cleaner and more accessible, but they want you to know it’s of their own volition. “Don’t you turn my brown eyes blue,” they sing on “Turn”, a song on an album about celebrating who you are in the face of people wanting you to change. Recorded in their studio, Young Fathers this time around opted for something both mellower and bigger than they’ve ever done, and the result is something immensely personal. “Tremolo my soul,” they chant over snares, hand percussion, and 808 pops. In other words, they crave the ups and downs of real life. “I’ve never seen wicked ones face their fears / Yet I’ve always seen brave men filled with tears,” goes opener “See How” on which dissonance contrasts with steady percussion and a hopeful gospel choir. Honesty and embracing oneself is way more difficult than self-deception, but it pays off. On closer “Picking You”, the trio add another element of Scottish music to their grime-influenced sound: bagpipes and drum rolls. If “good men are strange” and “bad men are obvious,” Young Fathers would take strange any day. - JM

10. Pusha T - Daytona (G.O.O.D. Music/Def Jam)

“I’m top 5″, Pusha T claims in the first words in the first verse of “What Would Meek Do?” He’s always been a braggadocio--this time, that’s not enough. On Daytona, Pusha crosses the line with unparalleled lyrical dexterity. Setting himself up with a couple tracks where--what else--he talks about his history hustling, he goes so far as to be thankful for addiction. On “Come Back Baby”, producer Kanye West starts with a sample of “The Truth Shall Make You Free” by The Mighty Hannibal (a song lamenting addiction) before Pusha reveals how much he makes off of dope. Even the album art--a photo of Whitney Houston’s bathroom taken after she died--is tasteless.

And then there’s “Infrared”, which has now infamously set off a chain of events wherein Pusha claimed Drake uses a ghostwriter, Drake responded with a lame freestyle, and Pusha annihilated him in “The Story of Adidon”, wherein he, among other things, said Drake fathered a child with a porn star (true) and makes fun of Noah “40″ Shebib’s Multiple Sclerosis. Even if “Adidon” were a part of Daytona, the album would still be the most eviscerating listen of the year in less than 30 minutes. Pusha didn’t even need to say he’s top 5. - JM

9. DJ Koze - Knock Knock (Pampa)

Perhaps not since this very site’s namesake has an album reached such sample-based bliss as DJ Koze’s Knock Knock. While The Avalanches’ opus was a crate digger’s paradise, Koze’s source material ranges from the familiar to the recognizable but still manages to make something entirely new out of it. Bon Iver’s voice is twisted over tropical techno thumps on “Bonfire”, while Gladys Knight provides equal parts sorrow and soul over immortal club anthem “Pick Up”. You’ve got Kurt Wagner’s trademark vocoder singing on “Muddy Funster” and Roisin Murphy’s wailing on the propulsive “Illumination” and growling “Scratch That”. But perhaps the most appropriate sample is on “Planet Hase”. Over skittering hi hats and hand claps, Koze takes dialogue from a documentary about Alzheimer’s in which someone pontificates on the need for music and art in achieving scientific breakthroughs. When we pay attention to the physicality of music and what it conjures within ourselves, we can achieve a sort of nirvana, argues Koze on the finest album of his career. - JM

8. Ovlov - Tru (Exploding In Sound)

For many, the expectations for Tru were uniquely immense. Ovlov’s cult status in the world of fuzzed out indie rock--rightfully earned through the adored AM--had left fans daydreaming of more from Steve Hartlett’s songwriting camp. And though the 5 year span has been punctuated by break ups and releases from the Hartlett-fronted Stove, we long awaited the signature blissed out wall of warm guitars and strained, yearning vocals that are unique to Ovlov. From the opening chords of “Baby Alligator”, Tru is a welcome invitation to experience a band’s unique sonic footprint, re-imagined through a matured sense of songwriting. Whereas AM explored a set of themes and icons or characters, Tru feels more obviously personal. Hartlett touches upon feelings of self-care and relationships, as he did in AM, but now with less of a sense of guardedness. You can always tell when he sings about himself and those around him, but the themes and references feel less obtuse. The band’s sonic palette is taken in more varied directions as well, from the screeching harmonics of “Half Way Fine” to the start-stop wail of “Stick”. Tru’s well-crafted blend of loud 90’s indie worship, shoegaze, and punk solidifies Ovlov’s place in the modern indie circuit. - DP

7. Janelle Monae - Dirty Computer (Atlantic)

Though not technically part of her collection of “android” albums, Janelle Monae’s Dirty Computer takes the theme of human vs robot to a head and adds sexuality to the mix. “Text message God up in the sky / Oh, if you love me, won’t you please reply?” Monae begs on the opener and title track. She struggles with embracing religion because of what many major religions have to say about non-straight people (Monae is pansexual), so Monae realizes that she has no choice but to love her self. “Crazy, Classic, Life” is a thumping anthem to queer black pride, while “Django Jane” is an all-rapped ode to her amazing accomplishments. Her message back is “accept me for who I am,” yes, but its her double entendre-laden ode to her own sexuality in which she finds power. “You fucked the world up now,” she sings on “Screwed”, before declaring, “We’ll fuck it all back down.” Of course, there’s “Pynk”, the Grimes-featuring, finger-snapping gem of a power pop song with a legendary video, that’s a tribute to the vagina, but over the course of Dirty Computer, Monae finds many different ways to say that whether or not our orientations are coded into our DNA, love is love. - JM

6. Objekt - Cocoon Crush (PAN)

An artist solidly known for his bold exploration of techno, Objekt now takes a plunge into a new kind of ethereal beauty on Cocoon Crush. A foray into ambient music, Objekt subverts a lot of what we have come to expect from him. The line between digital and analog is smeared. Tracks are ungrounded, punctuated still by percussion and synthesizers, but in patterns and textures that materialize in mysterious ways. And just as they appear, they stutter and morph in ways unexpected to the listener. The cold machinations of the dancefloor are still present; they are just stretched and masked in exciting and rewarding ways. - DP

5. Kacey Musgraves - Golden Hour (MCA Nashville)

We like Kacey Musgraves at SILY and included her last album Pageant Material as one of 2015’s best. So what is it about her that makes us continue to return to her music? With this year’s Golden Hour, she takes a step beyond her tongue-in-cheek takes on small town country living and branches out with a gorgeous collection of songs that look inward. It’s a bit of a “What does it all mean?” album, and Musgraves takes her time with each track, as she says on shimmering opener “Slow Burn”: “Old soul waiting my turn / I know a few things but I still got a lot to learn”. That’s not to say that she leaves that broad, hazy question completely unanswered. There’s her LSD-induced meditation on family on the minute-long “Mother”, or the gentle wonder she conveys at her surroundings on “Oh, What a World”, which sees the use of vocoder, adding another dimension to her “Spacey Kacey” nickname.

That’s not to say her knack for wordplay and tweaking tropes has faded to the background. It’s sharper here. Golden Hour shines a light on a disco ball during “High Horse” and heightens the timelessness of a “classic in the wrong way” fake John Wayne. “Space Cowboy” dares you to not crack a smile at the pause between the title’s two-word phrase as she tenderly sings, “You can have your space, cowboy”.

Yes, Golden Hour is a Kacey Musgraves album through and through, and the title encapsulates its themes so well: that flash of ethereal color in the sky, one that we can all see if we just take a moment to look up and savor it. - LL

4. Mitski - Be The Cowboy (Dead Oceans)

Mitski has found strength in the mythology of the Old West. Her latest album Be The Cowboy sees her wishing to embody the confident spirit of the title character in order to find her strength in music and relationships. Co-produced by Patrick Hyland, the album, like Puberty 2, is concerned with the body, and Mitski’s decision to replace guitars with synths allows her to feel empowered through dancing. She feels wanted on “Nobody”, and while she’s dependent on an ex in “Why Didn’t You Stop Me?”, the disco beat of the song steadies her. “Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart,” she begs on the bouncy “Washing Machine Heart”, constantly finding new and humorous ways to sing about emotional baggage.

Read the rest of our review here.

3. Saba - CARE FOR ME (Saba Pivot)

Saba’s CARE FOR ME gained prominence as a tribute to the Chicago rapper’s late cousin John Walt, but it’s also a personal record about being a young black man in America. Over warbling synthesizers and minimal, cloudy production perfect for storytelling, Saba alternates between raw stream of consciousness and meticulously arranged poetry to tell his story. Walt’s death, dealing with depression, anxieties about sex, and fear of police are some of the many themes that bookend the record. On “BUSY / SIRENS”, he raps, “Sirens on the way / Now you’re laying where the angels lay,” while the record ends with him stepping into the shoes of someone dying and on his way up to heaven ( “Chalk outline look like the shape of my shadow”). In between, he details how he’s stayed alive. With the directness and dryness of Vince Staples, he blatantly says, “Momma mixed the vodka with the Sprite / They killed my cousin with a pocket knife,” on “LIFE”. But what has he learned? Each of “FIGHTER”’s verses is dedicated to an altercation, whether physical or verbal, but more importantly, introspection about what happened and why its led him to abstain from negative conflict.

All the while, CARE FOR ME seems to be a breathing document of Saba discovering himself. “Wrote the amount of raps just on a mission to find something,” he declares on “CALLIGRAPHY”. He eventually details the circumstances surrounding Walt’s death on the climactic “PROM / KING”, but what’s important is while life is uncertain and violent, no matter our background, we’ll always have art to make sense of it all. - JM

2. Yves Tumor - Safe in the Hands of Love (Warp)

Yves Tumor’s patent interplay of noise with a brilliant sensibility for pop music is fully realized on Safe in the Hands of Love. To be clear, though, this is not a jarring dance between the two worlds. Whereas most music which could be hastily labeled as “noise” seeks beauty in harshness or through a violent deconstruction of what we know to be beautiful in music, Tumor expertly weaves grating, free-flowing chaos into a gorgeous whole, channeling R&B, hip hop, electronica, rock, and everything in between. Opener “Faith in Nothing Except Salvation”, with its stuttering horns and general sluggishness, somehow perfectly sets the stage for a record that feels cohesive despite its tattered and fractured parts. The following track, “Economy of Freedom”, explores a frightening soundscape, punctuated by low, rumbling bass and an ominous thud. It trods along patiently, slowly making way for angelic vocals, creating something that borders on hip hop while also resembling a Prurient track. “Noid”, while situated in this record, could stand on its own as a magnificent pop song. It’s bouncy sense of rhythm and unrelenting energy are twisted in directions both unexpected and rewarding. Tumor’s ability to gracefully merge all of his sonic talents together without seeming even a bit contrived makes Safe in the Hands of Love an unforgettable foray into experimental music. - DP

1. Noname - Room 25 (self-released)

Our #1 album of 2018 was born out of financial obligation, Noname having moved to L.A., living out of different hotel rooms, and struggling to pay rent. That this context birthed Room 25--an expression of a sexually awakened black woman and staunch observer of the world at large--is extraordinary. In between her debut Telefone and Room 25, Noname lost her virginity, something she doesn’t shy away from talking about on the latter. “Fucked your rapper homie, now his ass is making better music / My pussy teachin ninth-grade English / My pussy wrote a thesis on colonialism,” she spits on “Self”, calling out those who thought she couldn’t rap--many of whom rap only about sex and money--by rapping about sex and money better than they ever could. “Window” details her sexual encounters over sparse arrangements, strings, drums, and no real beat to emphasize her amazing flow. (“I bought you game 5 tickets / Made my pussy the sequel.”) And “Montego Bae”, featuring sultry sing-speaking from Ravyn Lenae, is a play on a location in Jamaica notorious for its sex tourism; Noname finds empowerment in a potential partner.

But as much as her deserved sexual braggadocio stands out on Room 25, it’s Noname’s self-evaluation that makes the record essential. In other words, before she can “focus on the part of me I’m trying to be,” she has to deal with open wounds. “You title email 'Noname thank you for your sweet Telefone / It saves lives’,” she reveals on the whispered “Don’t Forget About Me” before revealing, “The secret is I’m actually broken.” If posse cuts like “Ace” (featuring Smino and a scene-stealing Saba) and rap battle level punnery like “With You” are surface-level confidence, it’s the final track, “no name”, where Room 25 comes to a head. Explaining why she chooses to go by her ambiguous, anonymized moniker, Noname lists, “No name for people to call small or colonize optimism / No name for inmate registries that they put me in prison.” But if it initially seems like self-protection, it’s actually the most individualized moment on the record. By letting her art and words do the talking, Fatimah Warner makes a defining statement. - JM

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friendlycybird · 6 years

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1X05 - The Inconveniencing - Rewatch

Okay, we are on the first episode I watched 100% solo, and honestly I forgot how early this was in the series. I suppose that makes sense as it is the one that establishes most of the dynamic between Wendy and Dipper.

Let’s go.

I kinda love that the S on the “Mystery Shack” sign hasn’t been fixed.

I forget whether or not we found out where Stan was heading in this episode?

Also a shower curtain is a pretty lame way to hide a secret ladder.

Soos is an adorable worrier.

So, my player has been kinda stop and start, but that means I’m getting a lot of fun freeze-frame moments. Like when Wendy says “check it out” on the roof and Dippers face is literally just Ooooooohhhhhh and Mabel’s face is more like Whaaaaattt. Like they both look surprised but in very different ways.

Aww, it’s the first appearance of the secret sign between Dipper and Wendy!

...You know what, that cut is EXACTLY how I figure out I have crushes on people too. “Not like I lay awake thinking about her.” *Cut to laying awake thinking about her* “...uh-oh.” ...the rare moment in which Dipper is me.

“Since when are we thirteen? Is this a leap year?” Mabel, a leap year would not make you thirteen already. You’re adorable.

Wow. The literal start of the feud between Robbie and Dipper actually had nothing to do with Wendy. Robbie took initial dislike to him because he mistook the explosion picture for a muffin and the others laughed about it, not at Dipper for the mistake but at Robbie for the art being mistakable in the first place.

Wow. You know Thomson is a really great person when you think about it. He lets himself be the figurative group punching bag (although that ball-in-the-stomach game is a little bit literal on that count) and not only has zero resentment but he’s the guy that DRIVES them everywhere.

Also Mabel’s idea of grafitting a car is adorable.

Stan’s freakout at “The Duchess Approves” coming on is hilarious. His first response being to call the kids makes me wonder if he’d have been more willing to get up and look for the remote if he knew he was alone, like, you know, before this exact summer. Or maybe it’s a case of before the kids the remote never left its spot so of course he won’t get it ‘cause it’s not his fault the remote is someplace else? Why am I thinking about this?

Mabel had less trouble with the fence then Dipper? ...but Dipper climbs up onto the roof with zero trouble and knocks off the cover on the pipe thing and gets to the door again in seconds. I guess Dipper’s athleticism is directly tied to his level of motivation.

Y’know, I really hope this place wasn’t closed for very long. Or else NONE Of those sweets would be any good.

...okay, so Smile Dip is actually pretty creepy. Why, exactly, did the store owners just put up “do not sell” signs instead of, you know, getting rid of it when it got banned for, as Dipper suggested, “good reason”? Like, the initial hallucination itself seems...harmless? enough? I mean. As Hallucinations go. But Mabel’s face is just. ...you know I think I remember seeing this listed on the Nightmare Fuel page for this episode on TVTropes.

“You’re surprisingly mature for your age” “Yes, I am.” *promptly misses mouth with Popsicle several times.*

So, I read that it was apparently “Word Of God” that the freezer monster would never be explained but like, isn’t it just another generic part of the haunting? Like, thirty seconds later Dipper sees all their reflections as skeletons, and we’re suppose to assume at this stage that’s the same cause as the freezer monster, which turns out to be the old ghost couple...so didn’t the ghost couple just manifest the weird freezer monster? Or is it suppose to be something else that was deliberately left unexplained?

Also, if Stan didn’t want to get up for any reason, how did he get the Ice Cream? He must’ve gotten invested early on and made a run to the freezer during a commercial because he could tell he’d need it.

Okay, so the whole Smile Dip thing is actually pretty horrifying because like. What’s IN those things? and with how many Mabel ate (”eleven..teen”) she could easily have overdosed. Hell she LOOKS like she overdosed. Yikes.

Ah yes the body outlines. Makes sense that’d be the first thing to make Dipper speak up about his concerns.

Incidentally, while I had the video paused to type this, my partner (who is in the room while I’m working on this) said that this episode is “making (her) skin want to crawl away” I told her that this episode is kinda the shows first venture into proper horror but it’s not nearly as scary as some later episodes. (Weirdmageddon, I was thinking of Weirdmageddon.) Then she had a small crisis over this being a scary show designed for children. “Why are they trying to scare children?!” so I compared it to Coraline and that whole thing Neil Gamin said once about how “what a lot of adults experience as horror, children experience as adventure.” ...I’m not sure how much it helped.

So, these teens live in Gravity Falls...but don’t believe in haunting or, presumably other weird things. But we find out later the reason most people in Gravity Falls don’t believe in the supernatural is because of the Society of the Blind Eye. So like. Have these literal Children already had their minds erased sometimes? Or are they just...really lucky?

Tambry managed to update her status while trapped in the television?

Honestly in most situations, even supernatural ones, chucking the cash register at the glass doors would be a really good solution.

“They got Mabel!” ...poor Dipper. He’s already stressed out of his mind and then his sister goes from, you know, possibly overdosing on Smile Dip to being Possessed by a Ghost. That’s not...he’s really not having a good night.

“It Begins” you’ve...you’ve literally fucked over MOST of these teens already. This began several minutes ago.

Also, if this couple hates teens and therefore video games so much...why did their store even HAVE a dance machine?

FUCK that cracking sound when Mabel’s head twists around backwards. YIKES.

“Oh. Well. There it is.” ...this reminds me so much of the John Mulaney quote about “...well this might as well happen.”

Wendys face while Dipper was dancing is adorable. And the fact that Wendy lies about it for him is just. The best.

Also Mabel’s “I’m never going to eat or do anything ever again” has a vague DoesThisRemindYouOfAnything to it.

At least Wendy acknowledges what they went through was traumatizing. Even if she is, in typical Wendy fashion, awfully chill about the whole thing.

I also appreciate Mabel looking at her own writing and asking what kind of sick joke it is. Poor Mabel.

...also Stan gets...really passionate about his movies? Like. What seems like a standard love triangle related wedding interruption gets him to throw his TV out the window? He must *really* hate that character.

#gravity falls #cybird says things #the inconveniencing

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twopointthreeninetoone · 7 years

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Wonder Woman (2017)

Part Two

Yesterday night (no–early this morning) I wrote a bit about the things about Wonder Woman that didn’t really jibe with me. Now I’m going to write about everything that did. I’m going to try to keep it spoiler-free (unlike the first post), but if you haven’t seen the movie yet: 1) What’s wrong with you? Go see the freaking movie, and 2) I make no promises about spoilers.

It’s a lot easier to write about the few things that you didn’t like about a movie than to write (articulately) about what you did like, especially when a lot of others have already written at length about what makes the movie so great. But let me make an attempt. Let me warm up a bit.

I mentioned before that I’m attracted more to superheroes without super powers because there’s more tension there–you know that Superman can deflect that bullet (as long as it’s not made of kryptonite) and escape that sinking submarine because he has super powers that allow him to do so. Batman has to take that bullet and it’ll hurt too; one of the things I like about Batman Begins is that it showed the physical toll being a superhero takes on a human (and how that physical toll on Bruce Wayne affects Alfred, as when he cries when picking Bruce up is roughed up by Scarecrow–but that’s another stupid rambling post.) The “problem” with Superman and Wonder Woman, as I always saw it, was that there was no real tension. Nothing that really made you fear for them. Of course you know that Batman will get out of whatever jam he’s in, because he’s in Batman, but you can expect him to be roughed up a bit along the way. The only sense of real danger you can get with Superman and Wonder Woman is if something is zanily made of kyrptonite or if someone is able get Wonder Woman’s lasso around her, or if a man is able to bind her wrists in chains, respectively. And it gets sort of tiresome when that’s all that happens, over and over again. There has to be something more than that. Maybe the fact that the people they care about are often endangered, but more often because you genuinely care about that characters and are naturally concerned when that bullet comes flying toward them, or when they’re trapped in that submarine.

So what’s the attraction of Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman? It stems, I think, from the fact that Wonder Woman was developed by screenwriter Allan Heinberg and director Patty Jenkins in a way that was authentically female; the character wasn’t created solely to appeal to male audiences while paying lip service to woman by conveniently ticking off the list of characteristics of the Empowered Woman. Wonder Woman isn’t a simpering jello of emotions for a male character to protect, and she’s not an emotionless weapon for a man to teach the art of love/femininity to. She simply wasn’t written to cater to a male audience. And it’s insane that she’s one of the first female characters to be written in this way. Because it’s 2017. Movies have been around for more than a century and it’s only in the past few years that we’ve started giving female characters the same respect and dimension as male characters.

But Patty Jenkins achieves this with such a sense of confidence that it’s easily accepted. Very little is made of the strength of the women of Wonder Woman’s homeland of Themyscira; the audience isn’t bombarded nonstop by the false idea that these women are overtly masculine because they spar and function on their own. And, perhaps more importantly, it doesn’t present them as lacking anything because they’ve never interacted with men. They don’t go to pieces when Steve Trevor ends up on their island and he doesn’t cede control once he gets his bearings. There’s no sense of some innate gender hierarchy that a lesser film would depend upon. Even the (refreshingly few) gender conflicts that Wonder Woman experiences when the enters the world of humans is almost rather subdued, presented as a foolish characteristic of humans that Wonder Woman doesn’t really understand and, moreover, doesn’t really feel the need to acknowledge.

My sister had a bit of a problem with this. She believed, rightly, that Wonder Woman would encounter much more sexism than she does in the film. Realistically, she would. In reality, men would balk at Wonder Woman fist-fighting and going to the front lines of World War I. For the most part, however, these sexist situations are latent; men are faced with Wonder Woman’s “unladylike” behavior (as when she crashes a military council meeting or leaps into No Man’s Land) and they either accept it or quickly note their displeasure because they are too busy to argue. In this way the film presents those traditionally “unladylike” characteristics of Wonder Woman as not being an issue that she or anyone else has to tackle, simply because it really shouldn’t be an issue for women. Patty Jenkins posits these subdued sexist situations through the viewpoint of Wonder Woman, an Amazonian, and thereby makes them (and gender conflict in general) an adverse symptom of the human society, which ties into the movie’s larger theme (Are humans really worth saving?) But it also posits the idea that Wonder Woman’s mentality and behavior is a societal issue, not a biological one, and I think that positing that idea the movie lays the groundwork to more easily battle that conflict of sexism and assumed female subservience farther down the road. I really want Patty Jenkins to tackle this issue in more depth for the next film. I will be absolutely ecstatic if she does.

So, getting back to my original question, makes Wonder Woman such a likable character (besides the fact that she’s able to do things female characters previously hadn’t been allowed to do, for the most part) is the fact that she’s also allowed to be so authentically human. She lights up when she sees a baby. She shows genuine alarm when innocent people are in pain. She shows genuine pain when the people she loves are hurt. This is achieved partly by the writing, but just as much by Gal Gadot’s acting, which utilizes an amazing degree of earnestness that you really just don’t see in movies very often. She’s incredibly charming and, conversely, trusting; she offers a lot to the audience. You want Wonder Woman to prevail not because she’s the strongest or because she’s fighting for the right team, but because she’s proven how good a person she actually is.

That earnestness is reflected just as powerfully in Chris Pine’s Steve Trevor. This might be just as big a feat for the film, because it would be just so easy and conventional to make Trevor a stereotypical male character who takes charge of Wonder Woman’s super powers or teaches her about love and romance. Again, Patty Jenkins doesn’t take that approach–Steve Trevor accepts Wonder Woman’s abilities and fights alongside her. He sometimes utilizes her powers, but doesn’t manipulate them. One of my favorite parts of the film is when, during a battle scene, Steve remembers how the Amazonian general, Antiope, used a shield held by other Amazon soldiers to launch herself at her enemies. Steve shouts for Wonder Woman, not directing her to use the same maneuver but by showing her that it’s available to her at that moment. To be sure, Steve Trevor does show impatience with Wonder Woman’s lack of knowledge of day-to-day societal behavior, but it’s usually because he really has to be somewhere (like giving his superior stolen documents that will change the outcome of the war). There are points where Steve shows alarm at the dangerous situations Wonder Woman is putting herself in; but he makes no mention of it “not being a woman’s place”–these are simply situations where anyone can be hurt or killed, and he accepts her decisions as soon as he realizes that she’s in control of the situation and is going to be okay. Similarly, there’s one point in which he expressly orders her not to do something, but I believe that has nothing to do with the fact that he sees her as a woman; rather, the alarm Chris Pine plays in the scene reflects the fact that Steve Trevor is trying to set up an elaborate, finely-tuned bit of espionage that will ultimately lay the course for winning Britain the war, and that Wonder Woman’s “I will kill Ares as soon as I have the chance and then there will be no more war ever again” strategy just doesn’t jibe with. Admittedly, the fact that he just slept with her the night before, has realized that he loves her, and doesn’t want her to get hurt could factor into it as well.

And, again, Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor’s gradual love for one another is accepted as something that’s natural and not much conflict is thrown in with it. Their love for one another is shown as a respite from the war, a reminder and a hope of peacetime, but is also shown as a casualty of war, ultimately. But it’s never shown as a weakness, thankfully. Gal Gadot and Chris Pine have a very powerful yet natural chemistry that I really like–there’s a lot of face-touching between them, which I feel can be just as intimate as going at it in a hotel room. There’s actually an innocence between them that is extremely endearing and that is, ultimately, heartbreaking.

Can you tell I liked the movie? I haven’t even really written about some of the best characters, including Robin Wright’s Antiope, who would worth the price of admission alone. Robin Wright has proven herself time and time again to be a powerful actress, and she funnels her skill and reputation so well into her character here–she isn’t in the film for long, but Antiope is so fully formed and powerful that the character stays with you long after. Connie Nielsen’s Queen Hippolyta is a great foil for Antiope–an opposite equal who’s presented as being just as strong despite their disagreements, and never in actual conflict with her sister. Not all of the characters are given quite as much depth–the band of mercenaries, unfortunately are sort of rushed and conventional, and include the trope of a sort of mystical and chill Native American, sadly. But you take your victories where you can.

…This was a super long post and I apologize. If you got through this entire mess then congratulations! As a reward, go see Wonder Woman!

#Wonder Woman #Patty Jenkins #movie review #Robin Wright

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shaizstern · 5 years

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Article from WSJ: Burned Out at Work? Here’s How to Find Your Passion—Or Get It Back

Follow your passion? It’s not so easy. Experts say small steps, not dramatic leaps, create the best path.

ILLUSTRATION: GWENDA KACZOR

By Elizabeth Bernstein

From the time Freeman Wood was 5 years old, he wanted to be an explorer. He dreamed of climbing mountains, trekking through deserts, mapping some uncharted terrain.

But being an adventurer isn’t an easy way to pay the bills. So Mr. Wood studied economics and landed a job out of school at the Chicago Board Options Exchange. That set the path for a 30-year career in investment banking and corporate finance. Along the way, he earned an M.B.A. and did stints at the Federal Reserve, on Wall Street, at Ford Motor Co. and with an investment consulting firm.

Despite his success, he felt unhappy. He dreaded going to work in the morning and came home at the end of the day drained and grumpy. “Each step along the way seemed to be positive and move my career in the right direction, but I ended up in exactly the wrong place,” says Mr. Wood, who is 54 and lives in Los Angeles. “I wasn’t following what I was passionate about in a way that was contributing to the broader society.”

When Freeman Wood was offered a buyout, he took it as a sign. He decided to do something he’d wanted to do for years: Ride his bike cross-country, from California to Florida. PHOTO: JOHN ORNDORFF

We’re taught that we should follow our passion. Countless graduation speakers pump us up to pursue our dreams. Oprah encourages us to have a purpose. Nike says to Just Do It.

Unfortunately, it’s not easy.

There are lucky people who identify their passion early on and find work that allows them to pursue it. But for many, a passionate pursuit is elusive or problematic. Some never find it—they start down another path and keep trudging forward. Others set off passionate about their work but lose joy in it along the way. Many keep laboring so hard at work they initially love that they ultimately burn themselves out.

You can take steps to reignite, or find, your passion. If you’ve inadvertently moved away from doing work you love—maybe you once did it but got promoted and now manage others—try blocking time on your calendar each week to do creative work, suggests Brad Stulberg, an executive coach in Oakland, Calif., and author of the new book, “The Passion Paradox.”

And if you never followed your passion and now want to switch gears, make a gradual change. Research shows that people who quit their jobs cold turkey to follow their passion often fail, Mr. Stulberg says. The pressure to love the new endeavor or make money quickly is too high. “It is really hard to perform well and enjoy your work if you are doing it from a place of pressure,” he says.

About a decade ago, Carol Novello decided to take a break from her career as an executive at a Silicon Valley software firm. Her life felt unbalanced—she didn’t have time for a relationship or exercise or her family back East—and she wanted to make a more meaningful impact on the world.

She’d always loved animals and wanted to work with them. So she took small steps in that direction. First, she tried to raise a guide-dog puppy. Sally, her charge, turned out to be so stubborn and distracted that she eventually flunked out of the training program. Ms. Novello felt this was a message. “I decided the universe was telling me that I had gone too far from my expertise and core competency and that there had to be a better way for my skill set and my passion to intersect,” she says.

About a decade ago, Carol Novello decided to take a break from her career as an executive at a Silicon Valley software firm. She had always loved animals and wanted to work with them. PHOTO: GERRY SERRANO

Next, Ms. Novello did pro-bono work with a nonprofit that trains dogs to sniff out destructive bugs at vineyards. She also joined the board of the Humane Society Silicon Valley. And she drew up a list of 10 criteria for her next job: She wanted to work on a compelling product or service she feels passionate about, share the work with a talented team, have a commute under 30 minutes, be able to bring a pet to work.

When the board of the humane society asked her if she wanted to be president, Ms. Novello, who is 54 and lives in Los Altos, said yes. The job met all 10 of her criteria. “It felt like this click, in the context of finding that intersection of passion and expertise and skills,” she says. “The work feeds my soul.” Just last week, she published a book: “Mutual Rescue: How Adopting a Homeless Animal Can Save You, Too.”

Mr. Wood, the investment consultant, is a friend of mine and I’ve watched him struggle with burnout and dissatisfaction for several years. So I was proud of him when he told me that he was making an effort to do something he is passionate about.

He made a plan that included a series of short-term goals. “Small steps are achievable,” he says. “They are easier to attain. They help you build momentum, and they build your confidence.” His steps included paying off his mortgage and tuition for his three daughters, saving a certain amount of money, and leaving his job when he turned 55.

When his company offered him a buyout last year that would pay him a salary until his 55th birthday, Mr. Wood took it as a sign. And he decided to do something he’d wanted to do for years: Ride his bike cross-country, from California to Florida. He saw this as a first step in a new direction.

Mr. Wood spent two months training, then left Carlsbad, Calif., one sunny day this past February. He rode about 85 miles a day—for a total of 2,775 miles. And he posted a brief video on social media every night recapping his day. I watched, astounded and inspired. Some days were tough and he looked beat. On others he seemed happier than he’d seemed in years.

A week ago, when Mr. Wood rode over a bridge in St. Augustine, Fla., and saw the Atlantic, he said he started laughing, crying and shouting all at once. He’d thought a lot on the ride about what he wants to do next. Financial compensation and a senior position matter much less to him now, while working for an endowment or foundation with a mission that aligns with his values matters more.

But he already felt that he’s gotten back his passion.

“The ride showed me how good it feels to be more yourself,” he says. “And it made me think: If I can do this, what else can I do?”

How Can You Reignite—or Find—Your Passion?

DON’T LEAP IN. Pursue your interests gradually. Research shows that people who quit their job to follow their passion tend to fail at a higher rate than people who pursue the new endeavor gradually, says Brad Stulberg, author of “The Passion Paradox.” The pressure to love the new activity and make money at it can be too high if you jump all in.

BLOCK OUT TIME. Mr. Stulberg suggests adding three 60- to 90-minute sessions to your calendar each week where you will only do the type of work you love. It’s key to commit ahead of time. “You need to make it a priority so it will happen,” he says.

FIND YOUR PERSON. “Call someone who knows your passion and can help remind you of it,” says Aleja Parsons, a therapist in Manhattan and a research psychologist at the Family Translational Research Group at New York University. Let your friend guide you toward self-awareness.

MAKE A PLAN. It should include small, progressive steps, because this is how habits form, says Dr. Parsons. You don’t want to act sporadically but consistently. Remember the saying: How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

DON’T GET LOST IN PREPARATION. Do the actual work. Do you want to sculpt? Buy some supplies, set them up in a corner somewhere and start sculpting. Too often, people get lost in preparing the perfect environment or purchasing all their supplies. This makes you think you are making progress but you are not. “Just get started,” says Mr. Stulberg.

PLAN REWARDS ALONG THE WAY. They can be small and intermittent, to celebrate that you are staying on your path, such a movie or bubble bath to reward yourself for doing an hour of work today. Or they can be larger to mark a bigger milestone. (I bought red cowboy boots recently when I hit a big writing goal.) The idea is people will continue to do things they get rewarded for, Dr. Parsons says.

FOCUS ON THE JOY. Don’t worry about the outcome. You keep passion alive by experiencing it as pleasure, by loving what you are doing. And when you love what you are doing, the rewards tend to come.

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arcaneranger · 5 years

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Final Thoughts - Fall 2018

This season dragged on me a lot, and I attribute that mostly to the fact that I moved right at the end and it put me way behind schedule, but also because a number of shows looked like they were going to really go the distance and wound up with one big disappointment or another.

That’s not to say that there weren’t gems - in fact there were a few - but this was yet another season where my “Hall of Fame” looked woefully light. That being said, I’d really like to get this over with since I have other shows to finish and three more lists to make for the year, so as usual, let’s start with the stuff I skipped entirely:

* Tokyo Ghoul re: Second Season & Gurazeni Season 2 because I didn’t watch either of their previous seasons.

* Senran Kagura Shinovi Master because Senran Kagura as a property is built entirely on half-naked girls with big boobs and that’s not going to jive with me.

Wow, that’s really it? Fall was the beginning of a lot of shows that won’t be finished until sometime in 2019, so the other shows I skipped will appear next year on the Multi-Cour list. So, moving right along, from bottom to top...

DROPPED

* WORST OF THE SEASON: TIE

UZAMAID!, My Sister My Writer (1/10)

We did have multiple entries into the Hall of Shame this season, with not one but two shows being offensive enough that they landed a 1/10 score from me, for an easily identifiable and familiar reason: actively glorifying pedophilia! That was pretty much UZAMAID!’s biggest problem, but My Sister My Writer aged up the target character in exchange for recycling the plots of OreImo and Eromanga Sensei, with all of the bullshit and none of the production values. Happy Sugar Life has even further convinced me that there is absolutely no excuse for this garbage anymore.

* Conception (2/10)

A video game adaptation that strips away the actual gameplay elements and focuses entirely on the main character figuratively fucking a lot of fantasy women to make world-saving babies, and it doesn’t even have the courtesy to look like it cost more than $5 to make.

* Ulysses: Jeanne D’arc and the Alchemist Knight (3/10)

I didn’t get far enough into this one to get to the real garbage (I’ve heard it’s another show I should probably throw in with the worst of the season) but the very first episode bored me to tears with its rote anime nonsense. I’m pretty well convinced that the only way I could ever find a Joan of Arc anime interesting is if it were an adaptation of the Level 5 PSP game.

* Between the Sky and Sea (3/10)

I can’t deconstruct this any better than Mother’s Basement did but it is just the most asinine thing I was subjected to for the whole season. Cute girls don’t fix a terminally stupid concept like “all the fish have moved into space and so now we train teenage girls to be astronaut fishers”.

* Bakumatsu (3/10)

I dropped this one an entire point from when I first reviewed it simply because I had entirely forgotten it even existed and cannot remember a single thing about it except that it was generic.

* As Miss Beelzebub Likes It (4/10)

I found this one’s first episode to be cute but entirely devoid of substance. Also, the poster still hurts my eyes to look at.

* DAKAICHI -I’m being harassed by the sexiest man of the year- (4/10) & Bloom Into You (4/10)

Proof that actual gay people just cannot have nice things, the most explicitly LGBT shows to be made in a while both suffer from the same problem: a supposedly sympathetic character having no ability to take “no” for an answer. True fact: not all gay relationships start with rape, and this is the kind of entertainment that fosters young people into not knowing how consent works.

* ReRideD: Derrida Who Leaps Through Time (4/10)

I guess everybody else saw this one coming before I did? It was the first post-premiere show I dropped because I thought the first episode showed an interesting setup, and the following episodes just completely abandoned the apocalyptic setting very quickly to show that society was pretty much fine, there were just robots roaming the earth like random D&D encounters. Man, sci-fi cannot catch a break these days.

* Ms. vampire who lives in my neighborhood. (5/10)

I can see why this might appeal to some but it’s basically just a low-rent Miss Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon and I wasn’t feeling especially charitable towards it.

* Double Decker! Doug & Kirill (5/10)

I really thought this one could get to be more interesting, but it failed to really commit to being either anime’s Brooklyn 99 (which, for the record, we have, it’s Blood Blockade Battlefront season 2) or being a serious tale about the dangers of Tide Po-I mean, drug usage, and wound up just being an uninteresting thud.

* The Girl in the Twilight (5/10)

This one really could have made it if only it had taken things a little more seriously and not made me wonder why the cast are even friends as they seem to have nothing in common. I can’t believe that the creator of this project was the guy who wrote the script for Punch Line, one of the greatest shows I’ve ever seen.

* Tsurune (6/10)

I literally just finished my write-up for this, but I do not understand why the same company would make both this and a continuation of Free! airing in back-to-back seasons, it just makes this one look like a copycat even if it’s not a bad show.

UNSCORED

* Gakuen Basara: Samurai High School because I’m not familiar with the source material and that seems to be the barrier for enjoyment here.

SPECIAL

* Anima Yell! (6/10)

If you need a reminder, I dropped Anima Yell after the first episode because even though I enjoyed it, I found it too similar to Comic Girls and didn’t particularly want to go through the effort of finishing a show I was already pretty ready to score, even if it was going to be a positive one. I simply didn’t have time.

FINISHED (Note that Tumblr has completely broken and I’ve had to re-edit this portion a dozen times because it keeps randomly bolding paragraphs and losing GIFs, so if anything got lost here, I’m very sorry but there’s nothing I can do about it.)

* Boarding School Juliet (7/10)

A pleasant little romantic comedy that wasn’t what I was expecting from the first episode but was charming nevertheless. Would have been better without the involvement of attempted rape on school grounds in the premiere though. * Release the Spyce (7/10)

A thrilling and surprisingly brutal little spy show that wound up being overshadowed by better shows with similar concepts but was a fun watch nonetheless, even if it dragged in the middle.

* Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai (8/10)

I stand by what I said before - this one would have easily scored higher with a better ending, but Bunny Girl Senpai is certainly the most approachable show of its genre and its strengths as a romance are not to be understated.

* Zombieland Saga (8/10)

Another Very Good show that could have been better with one simple change - it’s hilarious and very well-written, but those performance sequences are just awful to look at and the heavier focus on them towards the end did not help.

* Iroduku: The World in Colors (8/10)

A stunning treasure that needed a little more character work for the writing to really impress me, but with a very satisfying ending and a ton of visual creativity.

* Skull-face Bookseller Honda-san (9/10)

A fucking hysterical show scientifically grown in a lab to appeal to me, Honda-san could have been the new INFERNO COP, SAVIOR OF ANIME if more people had given it a chance.

* BEST OF THE SEASON: SSSS.Gridman (9/10)

I don’t know what else to say other than that this is easily the most criminally underappreciated show of the year. A lot of people seemed to be turned off by giant robots fighting kaiju, and those people are dumb.

And that was Fall! I’ve got a few Netflix shows left and I have to finish Classicaloid 2, and then I’ll be all done with 2018, so get ready, I’ve got a few more lists on the way!

#arcaneanime #seasonal review #fall 2018

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playernumberv · 3 years

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Game Of The Year 2020

It’s the time of the year for me to celebrate my personal favourite video-games for the year once again, and what a year 2020 has been! It’s brought us an all-too-realistic and all-too-immersive version of Plague Inc. by giving us an actual pandemic, and let’s not even go into all the other ways in which the year has been an utter and complete mess!

At the same time, what a year in gaming 2020 has been - and considering 2020, we probably needed all these games to keep us sane. 2020 brought us, very recently, a whole new generation of excellent consoles to play on (I’ve been loving every minute of the PS5 so far). The legendary remake of Final Fantasy VII which was an impossible dream not long ago *actually* released this year - well, the first episode did, at least. Even the legendary Cyberpunk 2077 released this year, although maybe this should be classified as one of the ways in which 2020 has been a mess... Annnnnyway, notwithstanding a few disappointments here and there, 2020 has been full of excellent surprises and wonderful games. So, without further ado, allow me to introduce my personal games of the year for 2020...

Game of the Year 2020: Persona 5 Royal (PS4)

I don’t see Persona 5 Royal often on most GOTY lists, perhaps because it’s not quite as mainstream as other games, or perhaps because it’s not so much a completely new game and more of an enhanced re-release. And indeed, I normally do not consider enhanced re-releases whenever I decide on my GOTY for the year. Persona 5 Royal, however, is far too special to me to not be my GOTY.

I played Persona 5 Royal in the middle of lockdown, and it is no understatement for me to say that in over two decades of gaming, Persona 5 Royal is among my most special experiences ever. I should note that I loved the original Persona 5 tremendously, so much so that I awarded it one of my rare 100/100s. I very nearly even considered skipping Persona 5 Royal, because I couldn’t imagine needing to play that game again so soon, and I couldn’t imagine Persona 5 Royal being signfiicantly better than Persona 5 was. And yet it was. It was impossibly good. It was so unbelievably good that it made the original Persona 5 feel severely underwhelming in hindsight. Atlus did the absolute impossible and somehow managed to make Persona 5 so much better in virtually every conceivable way, from minute narrative embellishments, game-play polishes, to a whole new semester and narrative arc. I should add that I completely adored Kasumi too, and her character and her narrative arc contributed very significantly to how much I loved Persona 5 Royal. My sole biggest complaint about the original Persona 5 is that the ending felt a little underwhelming to me - it felt as if, by the time the game had reached that point, it had lost its steam. It didn’t help that the ending felt a little derivative and similar to that of Persona 4. Persona 5 Royal addressed this for me with its new semester - and I loved this new arc so much more than the original ending. I had a million concerns about all the things they could do wrong, and somehow, they addressed every single concern I had and delivered a narrative arc that was nothing short of perfection to me. I’m aware that there are mixed opinions about Persona 5 Royal’s new semester and ending, and that’s understandable.

Personally, however, I rank Persona 5 Royal’s ending leagues ahead of the original. Without going into any details or spoiling the game, suffice it to say this: it was much more sombre, much more bittersweet - with just a little bit of Persona 3′s darker tone injected into it - and so much more poignant for me. Whereas Persona 5 was focused on the joys of liberation and breaking free from the shackles of society, Persona 5 Royal pursued these themes in a way that was more grounded in reality. It's joyful and celebratory, but powerfully nuanced with a subtle touch of sadness which makes its message feel so much more genuine and so much more heartfelt. It acknowledges that there are things we may not be able to break away from, that sometimes, not everything is within our control - but even so, you do what you can and you choose to live your best life. I found the more melancholic, more measured, but nevertheless joyful tone of Persona 5 Royal to be a lot more personal, a lot more heartfelt, a lot more meaningful, a lot more relatable, and a lot more powerful, so much so that even thinking about it now, I feel a rush of emotions towards it and I feel my heart wrench with yearning. I did still have some criticisms of the game, but these were trivial in comparison to how intensely dear the game had become to me. And so, even though it’s technically an enhanced re-release, it was so much more than that to me - none of the brand new games I’ve played in years even begin to compare to how much I loved this “enhanced re-release”.

I love Persona 5 Royal so much that even among other games I love, Persona 5 Royal stands near the top, if not at the top. The 123 hours I spent with it are unquestionably the best hours I’ve spent in 2020. It is a profoundly moving game, exploring themes that are very close to my heart in a nuanced manner and filling my heart with a whole range of emotions. Through Persona 5 Royal, I effectively lived another life, one brimming with so much color and richness. It is one of the most beautiful gaming experiences I have ever had, and I’m not even talking about how aesthetically stylish and musically charming it is - and any Persona 5 fan will already know that it’s virtually unmatched in these regards. By the end of my journey through Persona 5 Royal, all the laughter and tears I shared with the Phantom Thieves had become imprinted in my heart, and I loved them so dearly that they had become like family. Persona 5 Royal is one of the rare games so intensely and incomparably special that it moves me beyond the realms of fiction. Even now, I hold it dear in my heart as a reminder that maybe, just maybe, the future really is worth believing in and life is worth fighting for. Its radiant colors of red and gold continue to shine brilliantly in my heart, and there is simply no question and no competition to its place:

Persona 5 Royal is my undisputable Game of the Year.

Runner-up: Ghost of Tsushima (PS4)

Ghost of Tsushima is a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one - I didn’t expect to love this game as much as I did, and I certainly didn’t expect to love it to the point of it being my GOTY runner-up. Sure, it had some of the usual open-world lack of polish and bugs, but the overall experience was absolutely excellent and I enjoyed this so damn much - this game is simply so good. For starters, the world of Tsushima was so beautifully realized that it completely took my breath away. Even without the bells and whistles of next-generation consoles, ray-tracing, and what-not, I was completely awed by how gorgeous Tsushima was, and I spent countless hours in photo mode just admiring how jaw-dropping the scenery was. While the game doesn’t make any gigantic innovations, the numerous little improvements over the staple open worlds of the past made a giant leap in improving the immersiveness and overall experience of the game. For example, literally using the wind to point you in the direction of your objective instead of waypoint markers is a small touch, but it worked wonders in making the game feel much more organic. The use of the touchpad to enact a variety of actions such as playing the flute, bowing to others, or unsheathing your sword was also a small touch that went a long way in making this game feel alive. I can unironically say that Ghost of Tsushima literally made me feel like I was living as a samurai in feudal Japan. The core game-play of the game was a blast as well, and the numerous combat and stealth options really immersed me into the role of a badass samurai and assassin, and it was absolutely exhilarating to be a force of nature slicing through my enemies. Of course, no such game would be complete without an excellent story, and Ghost of Tsushima’s story complements its numerous other strengths by telling a stellar samurai tale starring Jin Sakai, who has already become for me an iconic and incredibly lovable protagonist who is portrayed in a very human manner. The narrative is unpretentious and doesn’t try senselessly to aspire towards being different - instead, it focused on actually telling an engaging, relatable, and enjoyable story, and it absolutely succeeded. It dealt with many complex themes very thoughtfully and its narrative was full of both intense action as well as powerful emotional beats. Sucker Punch absolutely struck gold with this new IP, and it’s simply right up there with many of Playstation’s other excellent exclusives. Ghost of Tsushima is breathtaking, exhilarating, emotional, endearing, exciting, and most importantly, it was just simply an incredible amount of fun to play. And as Reggie once famously said - if it’s not fun, why bother?

And hence - I crown Ghost of Tsushima my runner-up game of the year for 2020.

Second Runner-up: Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales (PS5)

I played Miles Morales as a PS5 launch title - and honestly, what a game it was! Graphically, it’s an utter majesty to behold in 4K HDR with ray-tracing, and Miles Morales was an incredible amount of fun to play as. The core mechanics from 2018′s game - which was already absolutely stellar to begin with - return here, and Miles’ new electricity powers make him feel distinct and a lot of fun to play as. Narratively, the game told an extremely well-written and competent origin story that effectively sets up Miles Morales’ involvement in future games. I felt an immense amount of satisfaction and pride watching this lovely origin story play out and watching Miles Morales grow as a character and as Spider-Man over the course of this narrative. While I felt that the game doesn’t quite reach the levels of emotionality and epicness of the original, I did nevertheless really enjoy the smaller-scale and more focused story being told here, which comprised of many thrilling set pieces as well as more personal and emotional scenes that together made for a superb narrative package. I should add that the extremely likeable cast of characters - both main and supporting - and the utterly top-tier cinematography of the game definitely contributed to how great it was. I literally felt my jaw drop watching some of the final scenes of the game - these were so utterly polished with such an incredible amount of production values that they wouldn’t be out of place even beside some of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s best scenes. Insomniac Games proved once again that they’re the masters of developing superhero games, and Miles Morales is testament to that achievement, so it gets my second runner-up game of the year for 2020.

Honorable Mentions:

While they didn’t quite make the cut for my personal GOTY, I should note two other games I played and tremendously enjoyed in 2020. Both of them happen to be JRPGs, which is not too surprising given my immense love of the genre. These two games are The Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel IV and Final Fantasy VII Remake. Both of these games were excellent experiences in their own right. The legendary Final Fantasy VII Remake is so full of heart and so full of love - it may be a flawed game in a great number of ways, but seeing this classic come to life so majestically and watching them nail so many aspects of the game (I *loved* the combat in FF VII Remake!) brought me so much joy even as someone who never played the original game as a kid. Trails of Cold Steel IV brought me the highly-anticipated conclusion to the Erebonian saga, and what a conclusion it was. As I noted in my review, I have mixed feelings about some aspects of this conclusion, but I nevertheless loved it with all my heart and it’s one of the many games I thoroughly enjoyed in 2020 - and in fact, I still think back to Cold Steel IV because of just how much I enjoyed it. I love these characters so much, having followed them for years, and seeing them all in Cold Steel IV is a truly emotional experience. I’m absolutely glad I played these games in 2020, and I cannot wait until their sequels finally arrive.

#game of the year #goty #2020 #goty 2020 #PS4 #PS5 #sony #playstation #Persona 5 #Persona 5 Royal #P5R #ghost of tsushima #marvel's spider-man #miles morales #gaming #games

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QUEERS READ THIS A leaflet distributed at pride march in NY Published anonymously by Queers June, 1990 How can I tell you. How can I convince you, brother, sister that your life is in danger: That everyday you wake up alive, relatively happy, and a functioning human being, you are committing a rebellious act. You as an alive and functioning queer are a revolutionary. There is nothing on this planet that validates, protects or encourages your existence. It is a miracle you are standing here reading these words. You should by all rights be dead. Don't be fooled, straight people own the world and the only reason you have been spared is you're smart, lucky or a fighter. Straight people have a privilege that allows them to do whatever they please and fuck without fear. But not only do they live a life free of fear; they flaunt their freedom in my face. Their images are on my TV, in the magazine I bought, in the restaurant I want to eat in, and on the street where I live. I want there to be a moratorium on straight marriage, on babies, on public displays of affection among the opposite sex and media images that promote heterosexuality. Until I can enjoy the same freedom of movement and sexuality, as straights, their privilege must stop and it must be given over to me and my queer sisters and brothers. Straight people will not do this voluntarily and so they must be forced into it. Straights must be frightened into it. Terrorized into it. Fear is the most powerful motivation. No one will give us what we deserve. Rights are not given they are taken, by force if necessary. It is easier to fight when you know who your enemy is. Straight people are your enemy. They are your enemy when they don't acknowledge your invisibility and continue to live in and contribute to a culture that kills you. Every day one of us is taken by the enemy. Whether it's an AIDS death due to homophobic government inaction or a lesbian bashing in an all-night diner (in a supposedly lesbian neighborhood). AN ARMY OF LOVERS CANNOT LOSE Being queer is not about a right to privacy; it is about the freedom to be public, to just be who we are. It means everyday fighting oppression; homophobia, racism, misogyny, the bigotry of religious hypocrites and our own self-hatred. (We have been carefully taught to hate ourselves.) And now of course it means fighting a virus as well, and all those homo-haters who are using AIDS to wipe us off the face of the earth. Being queer means leading a different sort of 2 life. It's not about the mainstream, profit-margins, patriotism, patriarchy or being assimilated. It's not about executive directors, privilege and elitism. It's about being on the margins, defining ourselves; it's about gender- fuck and secrets, what's beneath the belt and deep inside the heart; it's about the night. Being queer is "grass roots" because we know that everyone of us, every body, every cunt, every heart and ass and dick is a world of pleasure waiting to be explored. Everyone of us is a world of infinite possibility. We are an army because we have to be. We are an army because we are so powerful. (We have so much to fight for; we are the most precious of endangered species.) And we are an army of lovers because it is we who know what love is. Desire and lust, too. We invented them. We come out of the closet, face the rejection of society, face firing squads, just to love each other! Every time we fuck, we win. We must fight for ourselves (no one else is going to do it) and if in that process we bring greater freedom to the world at large then great. (We've given so much to that world: democracy, all the arts, the concepts of love, philosophy and the soul, to name just a few gifts from our ancient Greek Dykes, Fags.) Let's make every space a Lesbian and Gay space. Every street a part of our sexual geography. A city of yearning and then total satisfaction. A city and a country where we can be safe and free and more. We must look at our lives and see what's best in them, see what is queer and what is straight and let that straight chaff fall away! Remember there is so, so little time. And I want to be a lover of each and every one of you. Next year, we march naked. ANGER "The strong sisters told the brothers that there were two important things to remember about the coming revolutions, the first is that we will get our asses kicked. The second, is that we will win." I'm angry. I'm angry for being condemned to death by strangers saying, "You deserve to die" and "AIDS is the cure." Fury erupts when a Republican woman wearing thousands of dollars of garments and jewelry minces by the police lines shaking her head, chuckling and wagging her finger at us like we are recalcitrant children making absurd demands and throwing temper tantrum when they aren't met. Angry while Joseph agonizes over $8,000 a over for AZT which might keep him alive a little longer and which makes him sicker than the disease he is diagnosed with. Angry as I listen to a man tell me that after changing his will five times he's running out of people to leave things to. All of his best friends are dead. Angry when stand in a sea of quilt panels, or go to a candlelight march or attend yet another memorial service. I will not march silently with a fucking candle and I want to take that goddamned quilt and wrap myself in it and furiously rend it and my hair and curse every god 3 religion ever created. I refuse to accept a creation that cuts people down in the third decade of their life. It is cruel and vile and meaningless and everything I have in me rails against the absurdity and I raise my face to the clouds and a ragged laugh that sounds more demonic than joyous erupts from my throat and tears stream down my face and if this disease doesn't kill me, I may just die of frustration. My feet pound the streets and Peter's hands are chained to a pharmaceutical company's reception desk while the receptionist looks on in horror and Eric's body lies rotting in a Brooklyn cemetery and I'll never hear his flute resounding off the walls of the meeting house again. And I see the old people in Tompkins Square Park huddled in their long wool coats in June to keep out the cold they perceive is there and to cling to whatever little life has left to offer them. I'm reminded of the people who strip and stand before a mirror each night before they go to bed and search their bodies for any mark that might not have been there yesterday. A mark that this scourge has visited them. And I'm angry when the newspapers call us "victims" and sound alarms that "it" might soon spread to the "general population." And I want to scream "Who the fuck am I?" And I want to scream at New York Hospital with its yellow plastic bags marked "isolation linen", "ropa infecciosa" and its orderlies in latex gloves and surgical masks skirting the bed as if its occupant will suddenly leap out and douse them with blood and semen giving them too the plague. And I'm angry at straight people who sit smugly wrapped in their self-protective coat of monogamy and heterosexuality confident that this disease has nothing to do with them because "it" only happens to "them." And the teenage boys who upon spotting my Silence=Death button begin chanting "Faggot's gonna die" and I wonder, who taught them this? Enveloped in fury and fear, I remain silent while my button mocks me every step of the way. And the anger I fell when a television program on the quilt gives profiles of the dead and the list begins with a baby, a teenage girl who got a blood transfusion, an elderly baptist minister and his wife and when they finally show a gay man, he's described as someone who knowingly infected teenage male prostitutes with the virus. What else can you expect from a faggot? I'm angry. QUEER ARTISTS Since time began, the world has been inspired by the work of queer artists. In exchange, there has been suffering, there has been pain, there has been violence. Throughout history, society has struck a bargain with its queer citizens: they may pursue creative careers, if they do it discreetly. Through the arts queers are productive, lucrative, entertaining and even uplifting. These are the clear-cut and useful by-products of what is otherwise considered antisocial behavior. In cultured circles, queers 4 may quietly coexist with an otherwise disapproving power elite. At the forefront of the most recent campaign to bash queer artists is Jesse Helms, arbiter of all that is decent, moral, christian and amerikan. For Helms, queer art is quite simply a threat to the world. In his imaginings, heterosexual culture is too fragile to bear up to the admission of human or sexual diversity. Quite simply, the structure of power in the Judeo-Christian world has made procreation its cornerstone. Families having children assures consumers for the nation's products and a work force to produce them, as well as a built-in family system to care for its ill, reducing the expense of public healthcare systems. ALL NON-PROCREATIVE BEHAVIOR IS CONSIDERED A THREAT, from homosexuality to birth control to abortion as an option. It is not enough, according to the religious right, to consistently advertise procreation and heterosexuality ... it is also necessary to destroy any alternatives. It is not art Helms is after .... IT IS OUR LIVES! Art is the last safe place for lesbians and gay men to thrive. Helms knows this, and has developed a program to purge queers from the one arena they have been permitted to contribute to our shared culture. Helms is advocating a world free from diversity or dissent. It is easy to imagine why that might feel more comfortable to those in charge of such a world. It is also easy to envision an amerikan landscape flattened by such power. Helms should just ask for what he is hinting at: State sponsored art, art of totalitarianism, art that speaks only in christian terms, art which supports the goals of those in power, art that matches the sofas in the Oval Office. Ask for what you want, Jesse, so that men and women of conscience can mobilize against it, as we do against the human rights violations of other countries, and fight to free our own country's dissidents. IF YOU'RE QUEER, Queers are under siege. Queers are being attacked on all fronts and I'm afraid it's ok with us. In 1969, there were 50 "Queer Bashings" in the month of May alone. Violent attacks, 3,720 men, women and children died of AIDS in the same month, caused by a more violent attack --- government inaction, rooted in society's growing homophobia. This is institutionalized violence, perhaps more dangerous to the existence of queers because the attackers are faceless. We allow these attacks by our own continued lack of action against them. AIDS has affected the straight world and now they're blaming us for AIDS and using it as a way to justify their violence against us. They don't want us anymore. They will beat us, rape us and kill us before they will continue to live with us. What 5 will it take for this not to be ok? Feel some rage. If rage doesn't empower you, try fear. If that doesn't work, try panic. SHOUT IT! Be proud. Do whatever you need to do to tear yourself away from your customary state of acceptance. Be free. Shout. In 1969, Queers fought back. In 1990, Queers say ok. Next year, will we be here? I HATE ... I hate Jesse Helms. I hate Jesse Helms so much I'd rejoice if he dropped down dead. If someone killed him I'd consider it his own fault. I hate Ronald Reagan, too, because he mass-murdered my people for eight years. But to be honest, I hate him even more for eulogizing Ryan White without first admitting his guilt, without begging forgiveness for Ryan's death and for the deaths of tens of thousands of other PWA's --- most of them queer. I hate him for making a mockery of our grief. I hate the fucking Pope, and I hate John fucking Cardinal fucking O'Connor, and I hate the whole fucking Catholic Church. The same goes for the Military, and especially for Amerika's Law Enforcement Officials --- the cops --- state sanctioned sadists who brutalize street transvestites, prostitutes and queer prisoners. I also hate the medical and mental health establishments, particularly the psychiatrist who conviced me not to have sex with men for three years until we (meaning he) could make me bisexual rather than queer. I also hate the education profession, for its share in driving thousands of queer teens to suicide every year. I hate the "respectable" art world; and the entertainment industry, and the mainstream media, especially The New York Times. In fact, I hate every sector of the straight establishment in this country --- the worst of whom actively want all queers dead, the best of whom never stick their necks out to keep us alive. I hate straight people who think they have anything intelligent to say about "outing." I hate straight people who think stories about themselves are "universal" but stories about us are only about homosexuality. I hate straight recording artists who make their careers off of queer people, then attack us, then act hurt when we get angry and then deny having wronged us rather than apologize for it. I hate straight people who say, "I don't see why you feel the need to wear those buttons and t-shirts. I don't go around telling the whole world I'm straight." I hate that in twelve years of public education I was never taught about queer people. I hate that I grew up thinking I was the only queer in the world, and I hate even more that most queer kids still grow up the same way. I 6 hate that I was tormented by other kids for being a faggot, but more that I was taught to feel ashamed for being the object of their cruelty, taught to feel it was my fault. I hate that the Supreme Court of this country says it's okay to criminalize me because of how I make love. I hate that so many straight people are so concerned about my goddamned sex life. I hate that so many twisted straight people become parents, while I have to fight like hell to be allowed to be a father. I hate straights. WHERE ARE YOU SISTERS? I wear my pink triangle everywhere. I do not lower my voice in public when talking about lesbian love or sex. I always tell people I'm a lesbian. I don't wait to be asked about my "boyfriend." I don't say it's "no one's business." I don't do this for straight people. Most of them don't know what the pink triangle even means. Most of them couldn't care less that my girlfriend and I are totally in love or having a fight on the street. Most of them don't notice us no matter what we do. I do what I do to reach other lesbians. I do what I do because I don't want lesbians to assume I'm a straight girl. I am out all the time, everywhere, because I WANT TO REACH YOU. Maybe you'll notice me, maybe we'll start talking, maybe we'll exchange numbers, maybe we'll become friends. Maybe we won't say a word but our eyes will meet and I will imagine you naked, sweating, openmouthed, your back arched as I am fucking you. And we'll be happy to know we aren't the only ones in the world. We'll be happy because we found each other, without saying a word, maybe just for a moment. But no. You won't wear a pink triangle on that linen lapel. You won't meet my eyes if I flirt with you on the street. You avoid me on the job because I'm "too" out. You chastise me in bars because I'm "too political." You ignore me in public because I bring "too much" attention to "my" lesbianism. But then you want me to be your lover, you want me to be your friend, you want me to love you, support, you, fight for "OUR" right to exist. WHERE ARE YOU? You talk, talk, talk about invisibility and then retreat to your homes to nest with your lovers or carouse in a bar with pals and stumble home in a cab or sit silently and politely by while your family, your boss, your neighbors, your public servants distort and disfigure us, deride us and punish us. Then home again and you feel like screaming. Then you pad your anger with a relationship or a career or a party with other dykes like you and still you wonder why we can't find each other, why you feel lonely, angry, alienated. GET UP, WAKE UP SISTERS!! 7 Your life is in your hands. When I risk it all to be out, I risk it for both of us. When I risk it all and it works (which it often does if you would try it), I benefit and so do you. When it doesn't work, I suffer and you do not. But girl you can't wait for other dykes to make the world safe for you. STOP waiting for a better more lesbian future! The revolution could be here if we started it. Where are you sisters? I'm trying to find you, I'm trying to find you. How come I only see you on Gay Pride Day? We're OUT, Where the fuck are YOU? 8 WHEN ANYONE ASSAULTS YOU FOR BEING QUEER, IT IS QUEER BASHING. RIGHT? A crowd of 50 people exit a gay bar as it closes. Across the street, some straight boys are shouting "Faggots" and throwing beer bottles at the gathering, which outnumbers them by 10 to 1. Three queers make a move to respond, getting no support from the group. Why did a group this size allow themselves to be sitting ducks? Tompkins Square Park, Labor Day. At an annual outdoor concert/drag show, a group of gay men were harassed by teens carrying sticks. In the midst of thousands of gay men and lesbians, these straight boys beat two gay men to the ground, then stood around triumphantly laughing amongst themselves. The emcee was alerted and warned the crowd from the stage, "You girls be careful. When you dress up it drives the boys crazy," as if it were a practical joke inspired by what the victims were wearing rather than a pointed attack on anyone and everyone at that event. What would it have taken for that crowd to stand up to its attackers? After James Zappalorti, an openly gay man, was murdered in cold blood on Staten Island this winter, a single demonstration was held in protest. Only one hundred people came. When Yuseuf Hawkins, a black youth, was shot to death for being on "white turf" in Bensonhurst, African Americans marched through that neighborhood in large numbers again and again. A black person was killed BECAUSE HE WAS BLACK, and people of color throughout the city recognized it and acted on it. The bullet that hit Hawkins was meant for a black man, ANY black man. Do most gays and lesbians think that the knife that punctured Zappalorti's heart was meant only for him? The straight world has us so convinced that we are helpless and deserving victims of the violence against us, that queers are immobilized when faced with a threat. BE OUTRAGED! These attacks must not be tolerated. DO SOMETHING. Recognize that any act of aggression against any member of our community is an attack on every member of the community. The more we allow homophobes to inflict violence, terror and fear on our lives, the more frequently and ferociously we will be the object of their hatred. Your immeasurably valuable, because unless you start believing that, it can easily be taken from you. If you know how to gently and efficiently immobilize your attacker, then by all means, do it. If you lack those skills, then think about gouging out his fucking eyes, slamming his nose back into his brain, slashing his throat with a broken bottle --- do whatever you can, whatever you have to, to save your life! 9 reeuQ yhW Queer! Ah, do we really have to use that word? It's trouble. Every gay person has his or her own take on it. For some it means strange and eccentric and kind of mysterious. That's okay, we like that. But some gay girls and boys don't. They think they're more normal than strange. And for others "queer" conjures up those awful memories of adolescent suffering. Queer. It's forcibly bittersweet and quaint at best --- weakening and painful at worst. Couldn't we just use "gay" instead? It's a much brighter word and isn't it synonymous with "happy?" When will you militants grow up and get over the novelty of being different? WHY QUEER Well, yes, "gay " is great. It has its place. But when a lot of lesbians and gay men wake up in the morning we feel angry and disgusted, not gay. So we've chosen to call ourselves queer. Using "queer" is a way of reminding us how we are perceived by the rest of the world. It's a way of telling ourselves we don't have to be witty and charming people who keep our lives discreet and marginalized in the straight world. We use queer as gay men loving lesbians and lesbians loving being queer. Queer, unlike GAY, doesn't mean MALE. And when spoken to other gays and lesbians it's a way of suggesting we close ranks, and forget (temporarily) our individual differences because we face a more insidious common enemy. Yeah, QUEER can be a rough word but it is also a sly and ironic weapon we can steal from the homophobe's hands and use against him. NO SEX POLICE For anyone to say that coming out is not part of the revolution is missing the point. Positive sexual images and what they manifest saves lives because they affirm those lives and make it possible for people to attempt to live as self-loving instead of self-loathing. As the famous "Black is beautiful" slogan changed many lives, so does "Read my lips" affirm queerness in the face of hatred and invisibility as displayed in a recent governmental study of suicides that states at least one third of all teen suicides are Queer kids. This is further exemplified by the rise in HIV transmission among those under 21. We are most hated as queers for our sexualness, that is, our physical contact with the same sex. Our sexuality and sexual expression are what makes us most susceptible to physical violence. Our difference, our otherness, our uniqueness can either paralyze us or politicize us. Hopefully, the majority of us will not let it kill us. 10 QUEER SPACE Why in the world do we let heteros into queer clubs? Who gives a fuck if they like us because we "really know how to party?" WE HAVE TO IN ORDER TO BLOW OFF THE STEAM THEY MAKE US FEEL ALL THE TIME! They make out wherever they please, and take up too much room on the dance floor doing ostentatious couples dances. They wear their heterosexuality like a "Keep Out" sign, or like a deed of ownership. Why the fuck do we tolerate them when they invade our space like it's their right? Why do we let them shove heterosexuality --- a weapon their world wields against us - -- right in our faces in the few public spots where we can be sexy with each other and not fear attack? It's time to stop letting the straight people make all the rules. Let's start by posting this sign outside every queer club and bar: RULES OF CONDUCT FOR STRAIGHT PEOPLE 1. Keep your display of affection (kissing, handholding, embracing) to a minimum. Your sexuality is unwanted and offensive to many here. 2. If you must slow dance, be as inconspicuous as possible. 3. Do not gawk or stare at lesbians or gay men, especially bull dykes or drag queens. We are not your entertainment. 4. If you cannot comfortably deal with someone of the same sex making a pass at you, get out. 5. Do not flaunt your heterosexuality. Be Discreet. Risk being mistaken for a lezzie or a homo. 6. If you feel these rules are unfair, go fight homophobia in straight clubs, or: 7. Go Fuck Yourself. I HATE STRAIGHTS I have friends. Some of them are straight. Year after year, I see my straight friends. I want to see them, to see how they are doing, to add newness to our long and complicated histories, to experience some continuity. Year after year I continue to realize that the facts of my life are irrelevant to them and that I am only half listened to, that I am an appendage to the doings of a greater world, a world of power and privilege, of the laws of installation, a world of exclusion. "That's not true," argue my straight friends. There is the one certainty in the politics of power: those left out of it beg for inclusion, while the insiders claim that they already are. Men do it to women, whites do it to blacks, and everyone does it to queers. The main dividing line, both conscious and unconscious, is procreation ... and that magic word --- Family. Frequently, the ones we are born into disown us when they find out who we really are, and to make matters worse, we are prevented from having our own. We are punished, insulted, cut off, and treated like seditionaries 11 in terms of child rearing, both damned if we try and damned if we abstain. It's as if the propagation of the species is such a fragile directive that without enforcing it as if it were an agenda, humankind would melt back into the primeval ooze. I hate having to convice straight people that lesbians and gays live in a war zone, that we're surrounded by bomb blasts only we seem to hear, that our bodies and souls are heaped high, dead from fright or bashed or raped, dying of grief or disease, stripped of our personhood. I hate straight people who can't listen to queer anger without saying "hey, all straight people aren't like that. I'm straight too, you know," as if their egos don't get enough stroking or protection in this arrogant, heterosexist world. Why must we take care of them, in the midst of our just anger brought on by their fucked up society?! Why add the reassurance of "Of course, I don't mean you. You don't act that way." Let them figure out for themselves whether they deserve to be included in our anger. But of course that would mean listening to our anger, which they almost never do. They deflect it, by saying "I'm not like that" or "Now look who's generalizing" or "You'll catch more flies with honey ... " or "If you focus on the negative you just give out more power" or "you're not the only one in the world who's suffering." They say "Don't yell at me, I'm on your side" or "I think you're overreacting" or "BOY, YOU'RE BITTER." They've taught us that good queers don't get mad. They've taught us so well that we not only hide our anger from them, we hide it from each other. WE EVEN HIDE IT FROM OURSELVES. We hide it with substance abuse and suicide and overarhcieving in the hope of proving our worth. They bash us and stab us and shoot us and bomb us in ever increasing numbers and still we freak out when angry queers carry banners or signs that say BASH BACK. For the last decade they let us die in droves and still we thank President Bush for planting a fucking tree, applaud him for likening PWAs to car accident victims who refuse to wear seatbelts. LET YOURSELF BE ANGRY. Let yourself be angry that the price of our visibility is the constant threat of violence, anti- queer violence to which practically every segment of this society contributes. Let yourself feel angry that THERE IS NO PLACE IN THIS COUNTRY WHERE WE ARE SAFE, no place where we are not targeted for hatred and attack, the self-hatred, the suicide --- of the closet. The next time some straight person comes down on you for being angry, tell them that until things change, you don't need any more evidence that the world turns at your expense. You don't need to see only hetero couple grocery shopping on your TV ... You don't want any more baby pictures shoved in your face until you can have or keep your own. No more weddings, showers, anniversaries, please, unless they are our own brothers and sisters celebrating. And tell them not to dismiss you by saying "You have rights," "You have privileges," "You're 12 overreacting," or "You have a victim's mentality." Tell them "GO AWAY FROM ME, until YOU can change." Go away and try on a world without the brave, strong queers that are its backbone, that are its guts and brains and souls. Go tell them go away until they have spent a month walking hand in hand in public with someone of the same sex. After they survive that, then you'll hear what they have to say about queer anger. Otherwise, tell them to shut up and listen.

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