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oikawas-fav-alien · 4 years

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Dominant | Taichi Kawanishi x Reader

✧ Summary: Student body president to the most renown school in the Miyagi Prefecture, it made you wonder how Kawanishi, a regular on the infamously dominant volleyball team, was such a lazy jackass.

warnings: language, otherwise none, rated K+ :)

✧ Masterlist ✧

As the student body president, it was your sworn duty to uphold the high ethics as a student and leader. Many often described your personality as rough or overly haughty from your mean-looking resting face. However, they continued to vote for you simply because you were the most qualified and your very presence screamed authority. You wanted to pursue politics in the future and therefore treated the role professionally. In your first-year, you were already elected as a delegate to the student government. Second-year, you were the vice president. And in your third-year you were the highest position possible. The only thing that kept you held back before was the very fact that underclassmen were not allowed to run as president.

You used the position as practice and cared for your potential constituents. There were a few major players here and there, thankfully they were your friends. Growing up alongside Ushijima and Tendou had their benefits. If you had the favor of the volleyball team, you might as well have the whole school crawling in the palm of your hand. Thankfully, none of the people actually on the team could run for student government since they were so busy with the sport. To win over the rest of the student body, there was a fairly popular second-year student who came from a wealthy family that many just looked up to. You often questioned why she did not run for student govt. and once asked her why.

After spotting her at the library, you decided on approaching the girl, “You would be perfect and I don’t see why not.”

“Thanks senpai, but nah. After you’ve seen the shit that I’ve seen... You wouldn’t want to be the leader of such arrogant little sheep.”

You laughed at her metaphor and asked, “I didn’t know sheep could be conceited?”

“Of course! They’ll give you all the attitude in the world, but still follow you in the end.” She joked. Behind her you recognized the light tuft of brown hair that indicated the presence of the current starting setter of the volleyball team.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Shirabu-kun.” You nodded to the boy who was waiting for the girl in front of you, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you from your boyfriend.” Almost instantly, they both denied the claim. The both of them were rather sheepish in their words and you wondered really if the two of them did not have something going on.

“That’s cute. Well, when you guys end up going to the spring formal together, be sure to send pictures to the Shiratorizawa Academy page on Instabook!” You advertised to the blushing couple, walking away before they assaulted you with more denials.

You were early to your class and browsed away on said application to see the newest posts. Since you were the secret wielder of the Shiratorizawa page, you saw everything. People were still liking the post of Semi and his girlfriend at the autumn formal and that had been months ago. There were various other couples scattered throughout the page, but when other students saw Semi and his significant other, they could not help but think, “Goals af.”

They were going strong and you could not help but feel a hint of jealousy. You grew up in Shiratorizawa Academy in both junior high and high school and there was not a single person in your year that you were not already previously associated with. The boys were those who were immature or simply someone you did not see pursuing. After seeing Tendou eat four-crayons in fourth-grade or Ohira singing along to the barbie-girl theme song, you could say that your view of many of the boys was incredibly skewed. You knew them for too damn long and there was no way you could date any of them. On the flip-side, the people you spent most of you life with knew your name, face, and outgoing personality more than any other candidate. You won the popular vote with a landslide majority, even during your first-year when three other people were running for the same position. This also came with an obvious disadvantage. Almost everyone knew you and that put yourself in a large spotlight. Your daily life was constantly broadcasted and you had to put on a sunny demeanor even if you were having a bad day. Teachers expected the very best from you and anything less would indicate that you were not prepared to be president, forget being prime minister.

It was unfair of your teachers to take advantage of your position, but you took it with stride and a chin held high. It was your sworn duty and you would not slack on any given responsibility. You would volunteer to help clean a classroom in addition to your duties in student government. To do this and uphold good grades in advanced classes, your social life was nearly obliterated. The only person you kept in daily contact with was him, a new project that a teacher assigned to you almost out of spite.

He was a starting middle-blocker on the volleyball team. That fact in itself made you assume that he was as diligent as Ushijima or his very roommate Shirabu, or really like most of the other members of the male volleyball team. His transcript showed his engagement in advanced classes since junior high. And yet, the teacher aggressively requested that you tutor the young man.

And you learned rather quickly that Kawanishi Taichi was an ass.

It really bothered you that a man with his potential failed to fully utilize it. You had better odds finding Kawanishi asleep in his dorm than in the library with his supposed study group. In advanced, you asked several times for the two of you to meet the group and study there. And more than once, he failed to show up and you simply studied with Shirabu and his not-girlfriend.

After that escapade, you made sure to show-up directly at his door with the reading material, snacks – so he could not complain about being hungry – and enough prayers to Jesus to help you through this trial.

You were sat-up on the edge of his bed, dictating to him which sections of the chapter and the appropriate equations he should memorize for the upcoming exam. Kawanishi was previously sitting next to you, but he opted to lay back with his hands folded behind his head. His roommate, Shirabu, was out (probably studying in the library with you know who.)

You sighed loudly and almost slammed the book shut. “You’re so cute when you’re angry, (F/N).” He commented.

“Flattery won’t help you pass abstract algebra, Kawanishi-kun.”

“I’ve told you to address me by my first name. And hopefully, it’ll get me a date with the most elusive girl on campus.” He slowly drew out.

“And I told you not to.” You sighed again, adding to the innumerable amount, “You were the only one who qualified for college prep classes in your second-year and you’re taking advantage of this by… failing advanced math.” You stated.

“Ouch.”

The pure fact that he shared the same third-year level math class was impressive. You sat in the very front and your attention never strayed from the professor’s lecture and had failed to notice the young-man before. But once you saw Taichi's work ethic up close, you knew he was nearly a lost cause. It was rare for him to study and you only wondered why. The teacher originally told you that Kawanishi had the capacity to be the best in class, only he was barred somehow.

Ugh.

You reiterated the question once more, “Prove that if a and b are nonzero integers for which a | b and b | a, then b = ± a.” You looked over and was not surprised to see that Kawanishi had the audacity to close his eyes! You dropped the book on the ground, startling the boy. “I’m leaving.”

“You have to give me time to think, babe.” You were halfway across the room when he sat-up to write some solution to the problem. Unsure if he was actually doing the question, you went back to look-over his shoulder.

Before you could read to the bottom of the page, he slowly turned his head towards you to say, "Since a | b, there is an integer m with b = ma. Since b | a, there is an integer k with a = kb. Substituting a = kb in the equation b = ma we get b = m(kb), so since b is nonzero we can cancel it to get 1 = mk. Since both m and k are integers, and |1| = |m| · |k|, we must have |m| = 1 and |k| = 1, so either b = a or b = - a.”

You looked back into the book to see that yes, Kawanishi’s answer was correct.

He was giving you his lazy stare, one that even you could not decipher. Kawanishi was waiting on you and you hesitated, completely dumbfounded, “Well… It seems you’re ready for the exam.” You gave a weak excuse and exited from his dorm. He did not fight it and seemed to lie back down as you left.

Kawanishi was an utter conundrum. This was not the first time that he amazed you with his intelligence. You brushed off these previous events as rare, but it seemed to not be the case as time went on. The teacher never indicated he was failing, you only assumed so by the many red-marked on his returned homework assignments. But homework was only a small percentage of the final grade, falling in importance by attendance. Outside of your tutoring sessions, you did not really know Kawanishi in his natural element.

You decided on watching the game between Shiratorizawa and Johzenji High. You spotted other people in the crowd, like the supportive girlfriend of Semi and not-girlfriend of Shirabu, but decided on straying from the rest and sitting elusively alone. Kawanishi was just switching into the game, standing right next to the net. After spending extended time with Tendou in and out of class, you knew the basics to volleyball and his role. It just so happened he shared it with Kawanishi.

He played an offensive and defensive role that competed with the tallest members of team. The tallest person was probably Wakatoshi, but he was middle blocker. After that, Kawanishi seemed to tower over the rest of them – Tendou included. The problem was that Tendou shun so brightly, with his unusual hair and outgoing personality. Everyone was aware of his skill and given nickname, the “Guess Monster.” You could almost call the two middle-blockers opposites. To any outsider, Kawanishi was giving a completely impassive appearance to the enemies on the court. But you knew he was thinking and that the little hamster in his brain was working tenfold. He was capable of blocking the spikes of a certain loudmouthed Johzenji player, who made it necessary to yell at random moments. Kawanishi made it appear as if he was putting little to no effort – probably to keep his cool-looking exterior – but you knew better.

Maybe you judged Kawanishi too quickly?

Shiratorizawa closed both sets in their favor and you made your way down to the court before the crowd could block your way.

“Could I get a picture of the victors to send to the Shiratorizawa page?”

Tendou was eager to nod in agreement before grabbing an underclassmen you recognized as Goshiki Tsutomu and an expressionless Ushijima Wakatoshi. Kawanishi spotted you and looked away, deadpan appearance still displayed on his face.

What the hell was that?

During your private tutoring session, Kawanishi was a man filled with unending charisma and charm. And in this instance, not a full day later, he was ignoring you entirely. Who could possibly explain the paradox that is Kawanishi?

“Why do you want to know so badly, huh?” Tendou supplied your question with not an answer, but another question. You shared an English class with the guess monster and decided that during break, you would ask more about the young middle-blocker.

“You know I tutor him… And I fear that I might have judged him too quickly.”

“He’s an ass.”

“Well, I know that.”

“He doesn’t talk to his teammates much.” He candidly stated, “Kawanishi is very similar to his roommate.”

“Shirabu?” You asked incredulously.

“Yeah, they’re both quiet little shits. They like to sit and observe others around them, only speaking if they were called out. Taichi is quieter than Kenjiro though, the latter is hella salty and has no problems sassing his older ones!”

“Huh.” This description seemed like the opposite one that you were used to. Kawanishi had no problems calling you nicknames and there was never a quiet between the two of you. It seemed like he even took amusement in constantly teasing you.

“Something wrong?”

“Not at all what I expected, that’s all.” You confessed, “He seems pretty lazy.”

“Oh he is!” Tendou interjected, “Don’t get me wrong, Taichi has let a ball hit the ground perfectly in! But he’s smarter than he gives off. We play the same position, but his blocking methods are more experiential. Taichi sticks to read blocking, but when he’s in the zone he guess-blocks like me. And if all else fails, he’ll go for the option he knows he can block.”

“That’s… clever.” You were hesitating in your words and Tendou noticed it, evident from the narrowing of his wide eyes, but he did not comment on it outwardly.

Instead, he replied with, “But it’s obviously not as impressive as my method!”

You laughed lightly and complimented, “Seems like no one can compete with the attention of the guess monster.”

At this point, the teacher entered the room and continued with class. Your thoughts often surrounded the elusive man and you wondered if Kawanishi really did act differently around you than the others, but you were running out of options to ask from. If Tendou’s description was accurate, then there was no way that Wakatoshi could give you more valuable information. Shirabu was Kawanishi’s roommate and closest companion, he must know more than the rest. But surely, he would convey to the middle-blocker your interest and you could not handle Taichi finding out.

You went to the second best.

“How’s my favorite kouhai?” You attempted to coerce the popular second-year into conversation, but she gave you the face that knew what you were up to. It was a widely known fact that she was Shirabu’s best friend, member of a second-year study group that included him, and gossip queen – she had to know something.

“If you need something just say it, (L/N)-san. Better make it quick, I have class soon and I can’t be rude to the only senpai that I like.” You caught her in the hallway, typing away on her phone.

You sighed, “What can you say about Kawanishi?”

“Taichi?” She put her phone back in her bag to look down at nothing in particular, whilst frowning. “He’s a lazy piece of shit who knows better than to act like how he is now. You’re tutoring him, so you’ve probably seen it.”

“Yeah…”

“He’s pretty quiet, but not at all shy. Taichi has a personality that’s rough around the edges and it seems like he has a permanent bitch face on. But he opens up to those he can trust.”

“Oh.”

At that reaction, your kouhai quickly stepped in front of you and stopped walking, blocking your immediate pace. “What do you mean, ‘Oh?’ Do you like him?”

“No, it’s just he’s been acting a certain way around me. I was wondering how much of him I really knew.”

“Like how?”

“Like teasing me, calling me ‘babe’ of all things.” Her eyes widened at the newfound gossip and you could almost feel the internal screaming she was projecting. You were unsure if you should walk-away at the stunned girl or shout to grab her attention.

“How cute.” She simply stated, composing herself in a single second and then was on her way.

That conversation did not help your nerves at all and your next class was shared with the aggravation of your thoughts! You approached life like a simple equation. There were variables here and there, but eventually all would be solved and revealed. Math was your shit and yet Kawanishi defied every prior algorithm of judgement you had unofficially convened in your mind.

Since you were relatively early to class, you took the empty seat next to Kawanishi – which was the very last seat in the back! He strolled in with headphones buried in his ears, showing not a single care. His dark eyes narrowed at your presence, but this time he actually acknowledged you with a casual wave.

“Are we still on for tonight?” He did not dignify you with a response, just a sly lift of his eyebrow that you knew suggested something! But you simply rolled your eyes, happy to see your usual Kawanishi and continued, “For studying. Don’t get anything in that head of yours.”

Woah, take a step back.

Your Kawanishi? Since when did you think of Kawanishi as yours? That thought slipped your mind quickly and almost naturally. That fact alone scared you. The two of you had spent numerous nights studying alone and it was clear that he thought of you as a friend, as per his insistence of using his first name. It seems his determination and utter repetition were finally getting to you. And you were surprisingly okay with that.

This was your hardest class and there were exams every week. The professor handed the last test back and you almost cried at seeing your eighty-nine out of one-hundred! Thank the lord! Amongst the few that took the torture known as abstract algebra, the topic for the last exam was agreeably the hardest and you would not be surprised if you were the curve.

Once the professor returned to his desk, he announced, “Sorry class, there is no curve on the exam grade this week.”

What the fuck?! You had never dropped below a ninety math and it was rare for anyone to be ahead of you. There were a few times that the curve was slightly above you by a point or two, but never a full letter grade.

You looked over to Kawanishi and saw the perfect score that he was failing to hide. His expression was a grim line and you reached over to take the paper off his desk. He did not fight you and allowed you to compare answers.

His work was perfect, his penmanship was sloppy, but the answers were completely legible and circled at the bottom. You even remembered him leaving the classroom earlier than you during the exam. At the time, you figured he was going to take a nap – which he did – and not be bothered by the importance of the exam. But boi, you were wrong.

You felt like an ass.

“Looks like you’ll be tutoring me from now, Taichi-san.” You teased. Kawanishi froze at your sudden playful-tone, one he had perceived before, but never seen used against him. He urged you several times before to use his first name and, of all times, you decided now in the middle of class.

Taichi had observed you through junior high and now. You were smart and made it widely known that you and you alone were the leader. You would inwardly groan at teacher’s directions, but do it anyway because that was simply how you were. He grew in the contrary direction and wanted to know why you were so damn happy leading a bunch of idiots.

The student body was easily swayed and not worth his time to keep a reputation. It was easier to keep an impassive disposition than appeal to those he simply did not care about. And yet, you were just as smart as him and you wanted the favor of those beneath you. Kawanishi wanted to know why you subjected yourself to this arduous task through the years. What could be so good about volunteering time into people who widely did not deserve it?

Kawanishi was willing to let all six-years go to waste. Spend his time merely watching you and never actually saying anything. He could easily grab your attention, but what was the point? Your heart belonged to the student body and you would never dedicate time to just him, another student in a sea of others.

Until his matchmaker of a math teacher forced you to.

Kawanishi silently thanked whatever deity was watching over him. He wanted to push your buttons, see how far he could go before the kitten would show her claws. You were put alongside the rare amount of people he could truly express himself with. And damn, you were pretty entertaining. He loved seeing the determined glint in your eyes after he paid even the slightest bit of attention to your tutoring. Or the way you rolled your eyes in amusement after he gave a rather presumptuous statement.

You were a mature intelligent young-woman, a year his senior, with an honest-heart and an ass to boot.

When you were riled enough, you fought his teasing with your own harsh words. Taichi could literally watch your usually composed demeanor collapse at his words. Your usually kind vernacular would get replaced with punitive and ruthless sayings towards him and it strangely invigorated him to see more. You would heave a sigh and force deep breathes to calm yourself and he loved seeing the dramatic rise and fall of your chest.

Taichi long-accepted his interest in you and was not at all shy at expressing this. But you were just??? So dense??

But now that you were finally teasing back… Kawanishi fought down the strange heat rising to his cheeks and attempted his most casual tone of voice, “You can drop the formal suffix, (F/N).” Damn, that was too low! I sounded like a male pornstar.

You laughed, he was could not pinpoint the exact reason since you were smiling so radiantly at him, “Alright, Taichi-kun.”

He sighed at your teasing and refused to respond to your mischievous statement.

Oh boy had the tables turned.

Neither of you could pay full attention in class since any movement from the other person would catch your immediate notice. The two of you did not have to voice it out loud, but it was obvious that you were both on edge, eager to say something but never actually saying it.

The professor decided on letting the class out early and you grabbed his hand, “Hey. Want to have dinner first before we study?”

Kawanishi mulled over your request, frown slowly tilting to a smile when the classroom emptied. “Can’t get enough time with me?”

“Yeah, whatever.” You joked, grabbing your stuff and walking alongside the male. He was keeping an unusually large distance, but at this point you could almost understand the puzzle that was Taichi.

You were a contender for a spot in the top ranked students in the Academy and it was for obvious reasons. And after observing Taichi throughout the week, his personality seemed clearly defined to you. He was not shy or held-back, but honest. Quiet, since he found no reason to speak to those beneath him. Taichi did not radiate the same intelligence as others, but you could still sense his pride and hidden tenacity.

However, you could not explain why his frank behavior was pointed towards you. You were never a member of the volleyball team and yet he treated you like one of his close friends. Kawanishi was a year your junior and you were the president, so maybe he found the need to place formal respect? But he never exhibited the same regard for other seniors or delegates to student government. You glanced back to the hazel-haired male. He was walking at a leisurely pace, his permanent little scowl displayed to the rest of the world.

You swiped into the cafeteria, grabbed some food, and sat in a booth across Taichi. Conversation was mostly comprised of you talking with his occasional comment. This was definitely new behavior, but maybe not at all. This must be his normal disposition and you were entirely okay with that.

It made you feel special, that he talked differently to you in private.

But the small privacy of the booth did not last long. “Hey, (F/N)-san!” You spotted Semi’s girlfriend, arm-in-arm with her setter. “I just had a quick question about prom.”

You were whisked away with multiple questions of what not to wear and the theme. She ended up taking a seat next to you. You were not at all troubled, it was only part of your duties as student government and you were delighted to share details about the most massive event of the year. Semi scooted into the booth next to Kawanishi. Both boys watched the conversation in silence, giving only a polite greeting to one another.

After giving many thanks, the couple took off with a wave. You and Taichi continued in your dinner and you off-handedly asked, “How do you feel about losing so many senpai’s?”

He frowned and sat-back, “They’re moving onto better things. I trust Shirabu.” You nodded at his explanation and the rest of dinner went by casually. His words were concise and you found his current curt vernacular very similar to Wakatoshi.

The moment the two of you were completely alone, in the comfort of his shared dormed room, Kawanishi did not hesitate to slam the door behind him and flash you a flirtatious smile. “What’s up with you lately, babe?” He walked over to his bed, throwing his backpack on the top. You realized it was not as heavy as yours and spotted his textbooks scattered haphazardly on the floor. You did not comment on it, not this time.

“Why?” You had a raised brow, but wide smile on your face.

“Why do you keep smiling at me, (F/N)?” He questioned, sitting on the edge and leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees.

“Why do you treat me like this, Taichi-kun?” You asked, “I’m not complaining, but I seem to be on a special list in your mind. I just want to know what I did to earn it.”

His gaze shun with understanding and amusement, traveling for you to a spot on the floor, “Maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

Back to the teasing! “Well, you’re definitely smarter than I first thought. So I am sorry I misjudged you for a lazy idiot. You’re just lazy genius, it seems.”

His bit his bottom lip and kept a firm gaze back on you. It was rare to see such an intense stare coming from the boy and you fidgeted in your spot, standing in the middle of the room. “A compliment just to knock me down?” There was no hint of a smile despite his amusing tone, and he continued, “Should I punish you?”

Your smile was wiped clean off your face and you looked at him with wide eyes. There were no words you could respond with to make sense of the conversation, so you simply stated, “Do you think you could handle me?”

Oh my god, why do this sound like the beginning of a porn?! You shrieked in your mind, confidence outwardly radiating but on the inside you were literally screaming.

He gave a light chuckle, smirking away at how easy you were to read. Taichi stood up, leisurely walking in your direction and not showing signs of stopping, “It’s easy to get a kitten purring.” And he continued strolling right past you to his desk. “But first I have to tutor you. Now be a good student and sit-down.”

At this point, you were inwardly heaving at the obvious tension and the fact that his smirk looked so hot. You were always the one who brought the study session back to its true purpose when the two of you deviated. And yet here Kawanishi was, getting you all riled-up just to walk-away from his obviously effective work.

This is bullshit!

You were a whole year older than him and the most powerful student at Shiratorizawa – there was no way this tall-ass sloth was going to one-up you! Taichi, you learned overtime, loved to be in control of a situation. He observed other people from afar and would act according to what he wanted as the outcome. And you refused to be another marionette in his game.

You grabbed his shoulder, whipping him around to sit back down on the bed. Taichi leaned back, eyes wide with surprise. You propped your knees onto the edge, initiating a very intimate very dominate position, and pushed the subject, “I think it’s time you learned your place. You can endlessly tease me when I’m trying to help, but I can’t? You better answer my question here and now.”

“It’s because I have feelings for you.” His eye-contact did not waiver, so Tachi easily perceived your astonished-look despite how well you thought you were hiding it.

You opened your mouth, words not coming out, and slowly leaned closer to the man. At this point, any outsider could observe your pose as straddling his waist. But! This was simply not his way. With you still in a daze, Taichi had no problems switching the positions with him now looming over you.

He grabbed a hand in each of his, placing them above your head in his grasp. “Sorry sweetheart.” Taichi murmured above you, noses gently bumping each other. You leaned upward and closed the distance, lips molding against each other. He tasted of mangos, a fruit you would not have expected of the quiet boy.

You felt the sweep of his lips against yours and opened at the invitation. Taichi previously had a knee on the bed, but now he was fully inclined on top of you, hips to hips and to nose to nose. He moved his left-hand from your shoulder to grasp the back of your head tenderly. He was invading all your senses and it seemed his only goal was to deepen your already intimate contact. Your left hand found itself on his shoulder, gripping tightly as the other hand threaded between his auburn-hair.

You moaned at a particular sensation and Kawanishi leaned back to get a full-look at your flushed face, “Well? I like you too. Keep kissing me, you idiot.” You spurned him on, earning a smile as he pushed you further up his bed to a more comfortable position.

He continued in his dominant pose, not hesitating to place himself over you. The heavy-air was incredibly evident and you knew your eyes were hazed over with lust. You traveled a curious hand from his hip to the bare-skin of his stomach and you swear he basically growled. He was sporting that intense gaze again and you only wondered how you were not aware of his feelings before. Taking away by your thoughts, Taichi returned your favor by placing a warm-hand on your waist and roaming upwards underneath the comfort of your shirt. But he was not stopping.

His hand stopped at the crest of your breast when –

“Oh my god!”

“Leave a sock on the door or something, holy shit.”

You broke apart to see Shirabu and his not-girlfriend in the doorway. She had her hands covering her face, but not her eyes. His poor roommate looked entirely done and not at all surprised. The two of you quickly sat-up, but Kawanishi secured a firm hold on your waist. Shirabu and his study partner did not leave the room, but in fact walked-in further.

Your kouhai was quick to compose herself and started, “Wow, (F/N). You work fast! And you said you didn’t like him, no wonder you were gushing all—”

“Are you leaving?!” You interrupted.

“This is my room.” Shirabu stated, sighing. “But we’re just stopping here to grab books and then to the library to study.” Kawanishi was dead-silent, lips a straight-line, but the hand on you was drawing lazy circles on your skin.

“Don’t hesitate to text me if you need anything, (L/N)-san! Some snacks? A condom?” Shirabu flicked the girl on the forehead before grabbing her and almost dragging her from the room. "You were gushing over me?" Taichi asked, stating the question dangerously close to your ear. "I'm going to kill her." He laughed and extended another hand, both of his arms resting across your waist as nibbled lightly on the shell of your ear. "Now, don't be mean because she was honest." Kawanishi whispered, a tingle traveling up and down your spine and causing you to arch forward into his touch.

“That was hella embarrassing.”

He pulled back, “It’s embarrassing to be with me?”

“No!” You were quick to answer and grab his arm, pulling him back, “Not at all. I just don’t want an audience when I’m being intimate with the guy I like... What if they walked in a little later?”

He raised a brow at your question, smirk splayed on his face yet again and returning to his close-position by your ear, "What do you think we’d be doing?”

“I don’t know!” You covered your face with your hands, corrupt thoughts popping up and you were almost sure Kawanishi could see your thought bubble. He laughed and placed the hands away, returning back to lean his forehead against your's.

“You’re cute.” And he enveloped you back into another kiss.

You were not the sort of couple that would hold-hands in the hallway and Taichi would rarely ever kiss you out in public. But you would not have it any other way. His affectionate side was for you alone and he made sure to affirm his affections the moment you were behind closed doors. You noticed the little things, lingering looks or a smile thrown your way. In the comfort of your privacy, Taichi would not hesitate to have roam his hands on your skin.

Taichi Kawanishi was one-of-a-kind and you thanked whoever was out there for blessing you with such a charming boy. He was still an ass, no doubt, but he was your ass.

You loved him fully and he would not hesitate to do the same.

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thewhumpstuff · 4 years

Text

Flashback

Flashback - [So, this got longer than I intended. It probably needs to be cruelly edited. But, nah. I’m just going to throw it into the void!

@badthingshappenbingo [Original Characters and content for - Reopening an Old Wound] Whumptober Day: No. 6 - Please - “Get it out!” No more. “Stop, please!” [Sorta all three] Ten Trails: Heart and Soul (2)- Repressed memories [@yuckwhump] CW/TW: Uncomfortable invasion of the mind. References to interrogation, captivity and potential torture. Reference to implied bullying in the OC’s past. [Please let me know if I missed anything] [I don’t think there is anything triggering about the abstract art, hopefully, so its just out here. FYI-That is a man casually ‘caught up’ in his brain.]

Zach drummed an arrhythmic beat against the edge of his table, when the door to his office slid upon and the framework framed Akira like a painting, “Ah, good! You’re here. I’ve been led to believe you possess a unique set of skills and are the perfect candidate to... solve a little problem I’ve chanced upon. Shall we?” She wasn’t given a chance to make her way into his office. Within a moment, he was already crowding her. Zach shepherded her towards a vehicle. They rode in uncomfortable silence. There weren’t too many people who could set Akira on edge, but Zach was definitely one of them. She assumed it was because she couldn’t get a read on him. And the tenebrous past he shared with Jared. The vehicle pulled up and she almost opened her side of the door into Zach’s crotch, accidentally. She stopped herself just in time, leaving the door slightly ajar. With a soft huff of disappointment and impatience, Zach opened it all the way and waited for her to step out. Akira really wasn’t accustomed to this level of archaic chivalry. The silence continued to loom as they walked past the wired fence, to the decommissioned lab. It was marked for repair and rennovation. As they rounded to the door, he went on to warn her, with feigned concern, that did fool her. “This is not going to be easy. It certainly isn’t for me, but I trust you know, that as Amity Enforcers, it's our duty to defend the goals of the Global Confederate. ”

Her brows knitted and her eyes narrowed, but she nodded. They made their way inside. Their footsteps echoed in the vacant reception area and continued to click as they walked through the lobby and the labyrinth of corridors. The first couple of floors had already been revamped and restored. From the corner of her eyes, she noted the silhouettes of wrapped equipment. She recognized them with ease, some were bots for medical procedures, others were devices typically used for research… on human subjects. They were flush against the walls haphazardly. He led her into a softly lit room, and stopped by two-sided mirror. The other side was dark. Akira stared at their reflections. In retrospect, the sincerity in Zach’s expressions, would surprise her. Another guilty reassurance followed. It felt like he was setting her up for some kind of a climax, “I assure you, I’ve done my due diligence, and grave apologies that I wasn’t able to get to him before the others. He’s a little roughed up. Needless to say, he’ll be fixed up. Perhaps you can help with that too…” Zach fiddled with something that looked like a keypad touch screen. Bright fluorescent lights illuminated the room beyond the mirror. Akira did a double-take and didn’t realise she was holding her breath. Jared. She didn’t need to see his face to recognize him. He didn’t have a shirt on and his pants looked scruffy. Angry, fresh bruises covered most of the skin that she could see. Cuffs cinched his wrists behind his back. His cheek sat in a small pool of blood. Crimson that leaked from a cut lip and from his nose. His chest rose and fell erratically. Jared didn’t react to the lights. He was either asleep… Or just unconscious. Zach’s little roughed up didn’t exactly do justice.

She couldn’t tear her eyes off Jared, but she found her voice and addressed Zach in an indignant hiss, “What the fuck is this?” Zach ran gloved fingers through his silken strands, “I told you this wasn’t going to be easy. I recognize that your relationship, predisposes you to defend him. To take his side. And that’s good. Because-” Aki interrupted him through grit teeth, “Get to the point damnit. What reason do you have to hold him like this?” She found it very hard to maintain composure. Her eyes still riveted on Jared, till Zach’s fingers found Akira’s jaw. He held it to force her to turn and look at him. She did turn, but also jerked away from his hand. He didn’t press for contact. Zach’s voice darkened. It got colder and softer with a bridled rage, “I’m going to let that tone slide. Compelling evidence has surfaced, that declares him responsible for the death of my mother… and my subsequent capture. And that he either is, or was associated with SpecSyn.” His tone reminded her of the chilly one that Jared assumed, when he had reason to truly mean whatever threat he was uttering. The comparison was unsettling. Zach went on, “And I’d like very much to believe this evidence is bogus, because I don’t want it to be true. As much as you probably don’t. We grew up together, him and I. We trained in G.C.A together, served in Sector Nine together… ” She noticed a sort of hurt in Zach’s eyes. The kind of pain that screamed betrayal. For the briefest of moments it made her trust him, as he went on talking, “And I’m doing my very best to not fall prey to my anger… Akira. So please… help me. Help me wipe these allegations once and for all. You convince me, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Akira sounded hesitant, she was processing everything a little too slowly to immediately recognize what Zach wanted. So she defended Jared rather simply, “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, he never told me anything-” Zach’s voice changed to something practical and detached again, like this was just any other mission detail. This also reminded her of Jared. “No, of course he didn’t. Despite how intimate you two are, I doubt he would’ve trusted you with anything important, or too personal. He’s always been an agent first… Apparently, just not for G.C.” She could sense that he was provoking her now and instilling doubt again… Somewhat successfully. Jared had always been rather tight-lipped. Even more so around the subject of the events that led to Azrael’s death and his missions. They’d argued about it on more than one occasion. Now was not the time to get hung up on the way the truth of his words stung. She turned her back to Jared and leaned against the two-way mirror. Zach went on, “Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t simply-” She challenged with another interruption, eager to defend the relationship he sounded so dismissive about. “What? Just read him? Relationships don’t work like that, Zach... I trust him. Still do. Always will.” Her heart sank when she finally realised what the man wanted. And he made quick work of confirming Akira’s assumptions, “Well, push has come to shove. And if you trust him so much, you shouldn’t find anything in there-” He rested one hand against the glass of the two-way mirror and tapped it. ‘-In there, that’s too alarming. I say you- and by that I mean we, because we’re running out of options. So, convince me, he truly doesn’t know anything. And I’ll make sure he’s free to go. And you.” And me? She folded her arms across her chest, “I didn’t realise I was not free to go. So what, I’m a prisoner now too?” Zach stepped in closer and placed his other hand on the surface of the mirror behind Akira. Her face was between his palms and she felt a little trapped, by the situation and literally by Zach’s proximity, but she did her best to not show it. He shrugged, “The Jared I know, would’ve worked alone, but the others would not hesitate to assume your involvement by proxy. And it doesn’t help that you’re a Niner. But, like I’ve said before I’d like to stay on your side, on his side.” She drew in a long shaky breath, her voice fell to an uncertain whisper, “It…. My power doesn’t work like that. It’s not so perfect… I can’t just give you what you want.” He smiled, realising that she’d understood that her options were limited and was at least, considering compliance. “I know how your power works. And I’ll guide you. We’ll have to find a way, for his sake.” Nonetheless, she obviously had to check if there was in fact, any other way. She wasn’t too keen on breaking that sacrosanct trust, “What if I say no?” Zach huffed brusquely, “Then I’ll have no choice but to give the two of you up. I can only buy so much time. They’ll either force a confession false or not... or kill both of you in the process of doing so… So, Akira, I really don’t want to spend our time constantly reminding you, that I’m the only thing standing in the way of a very… very bleak future for both of you.” So, no real choice indeed. A small part of Akira rejoiced and then recoiled with guilt. The part that did want to know all of Jared’s secrets, just so they could clear the air once and for all. The part she’d leashed, with difficulty and upon his insistence- out of respect for what they shared... Another part of her curled up in fear of what she’d actually find. And how she’d hide it from Zach, if it was indeed incriminating. “How do you expect me to convince you?” Zach looked beyond her, presumably at Jared, as he laid out the plan, “To make sure you aren’t lying, I’ll first have you dredge up memories of his time with me, details that I can confirm. Things you’re unlikely to know about, at least not in all their specificity. Then we can work towards the rest. It’ll be a process… But hopefully, Jared gets out of this absolved and we all walk away unharmed. I’ll have Mark monitor your stats when we get to the important stuff. So I’ll know if you’re lying. You know Mark right, I believe you’ve worked with him? That should make all this a little easier...”

Carrying a glass of water, painkillers and some tissues, she walked into the cell alone. Her SmartNeura was connected to Zach’s, so he could instruct her without Jared’s knowledge. Jared was still curled on the floor. He had not moved almost at all. His knuckles were unbruised. But his wrists bore evidence of struggle. She gathered that Jared had not resisted arrest and that they’d hurt him after he was already cuffed. Presumably to get quick answers. Knowing him, he must’ve chosen silence. She assumed he was in some drug induced stupor now, she was wrong. “Jared…” He sat up so quickly, she and her heart jumped. “Shira? What the hell are you doing here?” Why did his tone sound accusative? “Z-” Before she could tell him, Zach interrupted her sharply, “No. Don’t name me. He doesn’t need to know of my involvement yet. Tell him someone else asked you for help with the interrogation-Better yet, tell him you heard and volunteered. Keep it vague.” Akira chewed the side of her lips and looked at Jared as intently as she could, she wasn’t sure if he could see truth in her eyes. She went and flopped by his side, cross-legged. And put the water beside him, along with the painkillers and tissues. He picked up the latter to wipe away the blood. She repeated Zach almost word for word, “I… heard they caught you and volunteered to help.” She was hoping Jared would recognize the foreignness of her words. Unfortunately, given his current state, he either didn’t, or did a damn good job of hiding it. His eyes widened. She knew he was definitely closing in on her intent. And desperately hoping it wasn’t true, just like she had been, just moments ago. “Help how?” She was at a loss of words. Aki jerked her chin towards his head. She really didn’t want to spell it out, “You know… I’ll just… Read and confirm you innoc-” Jared shot up like a spring, and was on his feet. He staggered as he backed away from her. He sounded uncharacteristically flustered, his words as choppy as his faltering steps, “Why the fuck would you- We’ve gone over this… We agreed- It’s the one thing I’ve asked for- Wait you told them about your- Just…Just… Get outta here and let them do what they want. You don’t need to get involved. Why would they believe you anyway?” He kept shuffling away as he talked, to literally stay out of her reach. Till he had nowhere left to go. Akira didn’t move towards him, she remained on the floor and stared at it. She wanted to yell. To let him know in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want any of this. That she had no choice. That it wasn’t going to be a damn walk in the park for her either. That she’d been summoned. And that she was glad that she’d been called. At least she could buy them some time to figure this out. That she couldn’t, in good faith, just… let them do what they wanted. She sat frozen, screaming internally till Zach was compelled to intervene. He sounded impatient… but Aki could swear, he also sounded mildly delirious, “Tell him, it's too late and you’re already involved. Tell him, he doesn’t have a real choice. Then ask him about Erebus at the C.T.F we did for training at G.C.A. Read the memory that comes up. I’m staring us off easy.”

In his impatience, Zach was revealing himself with every suggestion and Akira was glad that he was. Though she wasn’t sure if Jared was truly catching on, or not. She’d heard him speak of Erebus - now an Acer himself, working in the resources department- and not too fondly. She had nothing specific enough for her to fib her way through this. Akira cleared her throat and repeated Zach’s words, paraphrasing just enough to change the perspective, and couch her question as a memory-trigger, “Look, I’m already here. So this is happening, whether you like it or not. Let’s talk about Erebus. You two were in G.C.A together, right? Did both of you participate in the capture-the-flag game? Were you on the same team?” She hoped that the confusion that flitted on Jared’s face was a sign that he was starting to catch up. He had to have figured out that they were being watched by someone, if not specifically Zach. Jared asked, “Erebus? Why? I’ve barely mentioned him” She made up a lie, now improvising without Zach’s direction, “He’s... A suspect too...” She was grateful that Zach needed to confirm her compliance with… hopefully benign memories. But, with the way Jared tensed up, perhaps even this was not as benign as she was hoping. It’s just C.T.F… How bad could it be? Jared sighed, like he’d curtailed an exasperated warning, “Shira… please just...” After one last look of what she perceived to be despise- aimed either at her, or at the very least at the situation, he closed his eyes. With a dark, heart-rending resignation, he slid against the wall, till he was sitting on the floor with his knees pressed against his chest. She knew he wasn’t the sort to protest once he realised it was futile. She sat there feeling a little paralyzed. There was no going back once she crossed this line. Zach prompted her into action, “Go on! Remember we’re still time-bound. Wordlessly, she inched closer to Jared and set his hands on his exposed arms. -

Lying on the ground, stomach first. The wetness of dewdrops against the cheek. The chilly breeze against a bareback. The smell of damp earth and grass. The blurry sight of the green blades and the soil - shuffling shoes and ankles in the distance. The recently-cracked awkward husk of a pubescent voice, “This’ll teach you to fucking play decoy for Pixie-dust!” The sound of vague, bitter and cruel jeering. Shoes sliding closer. Fingers curling around wrists and ankles, tightening with a certain envious sourness. The soles of shoes against the back of the knees… and the elbows, with the wobbling, inconsistent, but hurtful pressure. The body, contorts and twists to see the sneering face of the kid who spoke. A raspy, baleful protest, claws out of the throat, “Get your lackeys off me ‘Rebus!” An unavailing struggle that ensues. Another soul pressed against the lower back, with a pathetic finality. And then the sound of the marker, shot at point-blank range. The smarting slap of the bullet splattering between the shoulder blades. The strangled roar, interrupted by another shot… and then another. The headache-inducing grit teeth and set jaw. The metallic tang of blood and the annoying stab of a bitten tongue- completely overshadowed by the aching throb of the back. The burgeoning tenderness and the blooming bruises. Finally, after half a dozen shots, the deafening silence. The splattered, viscous paint, that felt as good as blood, rolling down the sides of the torso. And a soft, defeated whine. The vague thought that this must appear rather comical to an onlooker… but sure didn’t feel that way. -

Jared’s quieter whimper met Akira’s louder groans, they tapered to an uncomfortable silence, first him, then her. She blinked away, the tears that collected on the side of her eyes. When she let go of him, she noticed her fingers had left a print on his pale skin, blanching through a bruise. She had just experienced his memory in first person and forced him to relive it too. Aki could still hear the echo of the shots and feel her back smarting. He probably felt the same lingering effects. She knew it’d fade soon enough, but it left her heaving for air. Her emotions were mingled with young Jared’s- contempt for this Erebus kid who pressed him into the ground and shot him. Despair... that it happened. And her instinct was more violent than his, “What a fucking tool. I’d have kil-” She cut herself off when Jared opened his eyes. The dejection in them tore at her. And Zach’s voice broke the moment, “Why did you stop? Tell him you want to know what happens and go back.” Akira hesitated, till Zach made the order in no uncertain terms, “Do it, now!” She echoed his suggestion with a slight startle, like a spurred horse, “I… I want to know what happens next-” He let his fingers lace with her approaching hands. A plainative squeeze followed, “No! Stop it… Shira… Please. Please no more… Not again.”

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enthusiasticmusicalquotes · 4 years

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QUESTION OF THE DAY #12: What is your opinion on theatre bootlegs? Spill as much or as little tea as you want.

MY ANSWER: it would be incredibly hypocritical of me to say there’s nothing good about them. i discovered a couple of my all time favorite shows through bootlegs, and when i was a high school/college-aged theatre nerd stuck in the midwest (which i still am, just a bit older now), they brought me a lot of comfort that i could relive my favorite shows again. that said, i can understand POVs re: they weren’t filmed with consent from the actors. however, actors who are speaking out against them need to realize that mainstream theatre needs to be made more accessible in one way or another for poor, disabled, and international theatre fans. tldr: bootlegs aren’t going to go away if celebrities disavow them, but theatre might be able to become more accessible if more of them talk on THAT instead of how evil bootlegs are.

SUMMARY OF ANSWERS: out of 41 responses: 21 were an enthusiastic heck yeah, 13 weren’t as enthusiastic but still along the lines of yeah i support them, 3 answers were like eh i can see both sides i guess/leaning towards no, and 4 people outright said nah bootlegs are not the answer. All the answers under the cut!

if you wanna fight or agree with anyone, refer to the # and send in an ask or reply to this.

also: while i agree with much of what was said under the cut, i will not come out and say which ones i agree with and what i don’t. my opinion is above and that’s all you need to know about what i think. i do not necessarily condone or agree with anything below. okay, enjoy reading.

1. Anonymous said: I may not be the biggest fan, but I totally get why they exist and have watched a few when they pop up

2. Anonymous said: for the qotd: bootlegs are godsends

3. Anonymous said: oh god i literally just went on a tangent on twitter just now but bootlegs good!!!! people willingly watch blurry footage of a show bcs they want to know what the show is like, want to experience it live. bway shows arent accessable for everyone (due to prices and distance) but ppl still want to know what its like performed on stage. bootlegs literally dont harm the community. ive seen poto boots, proshots and the tour yet id willingly pay 2 watch again. boots make theatre more accessable imo !!

4. Anonymous said: Boots are good to get a glimpse of different productions? Like even despite Proshots existing of certain musicals, I'd still be curious regarding other interpretations of it! And also besides this it definitely helps make shows accessable to people who physically cannot watch the show!

5. galactic-greens said: I truly see no harm in bootlegs as long as they are treated respectfully. While the creation and consumption is technically a crime, it by no means whatsoever makes you a bad person. It's essentially documenting theatre, and ensuring generations to come will be able to experience what could have been so fleeting. They maintain a community, and as long as NFT dates, masters, and general spread of bootlegs are respected then there really can be no problem. It's just a way to immortalize the art!

6. Anonymous said: On bootlegs: oftentimes they’re the only way someone could be able to see a show, because not everyone can afford the tickets or even the cost to just go to New York for a show. However, it should be acknowledged that filming obviously in the actors’ faces is pretty rude, but at the same time bootlegs at least give a chance for people like me to see shows I might never get to see otherwise.

7. Anonymous said: I love bootlegs because I don’t have the means to be able to travel to see shows or afford tickets, i also do theater and i feel like the point of the art is to share it as much as I can

8. Anonymous said: i've never seen a large-scale live show bc they are not accessible to me. bootlegs are amazing. truly glorious.

9. Anonymous said: i understand that this is a rather unique experience, but i live in nyc, so bootlegs never measure up to the real thing for me. i know that this isn't something everyone can be lucky enough to say, but live theatre could never be captured in the form of a bootleg-- i don't even like released proshots as much as the real thing

10. Anonymous said: for me bootlegs are fine for those who can't see it live because of the price and they are living from another country though i know there are a lot of actors disagrees about it

11. Anonymous said: as someone who can't afford to go to a professional production of anything, absolutely gimme a bootleg. obviously I wouold prefer, like, a proshot of a show and I really hope that becomes more of the norm (I watched the Newsies proshot on Disney+ and had the happy wiggles for hours afterwards, and I can't wait for the Hamilton one to come out) but until that starts happening I'll take a bootleg any day.

12. Anonymous said: I like that it helps people get into fandoms/musicals that they wouldn’t’ve otherwise but I would prefer if theatres professionally films them.

13. maycombhoney said: they will be a part of theatre culture until live theatre is made accessible for more people

14. Anonymous said: bootlegs are great and until the theater community decides to produce pro-shots i’m all for them

15. zoueriemandzijnopmars said: I would personally feel kinda bad for watching bootlegs, because it won’t directly bring money to the people who worked on the show. I don’t judge people who do watch bootlegs though, because let’s face it, bootlegs are not a replacement for actually going to the theatre and it’s not gonna lose the creators actually money. It might even make them money, because people will listen to the album/buy tickets anyway when they can. I’d just personally be more comfortable watching a proshot

16. Anonymous said: I don't pretend bootlegs aren't stealing but whatever harm they do is abstract enough - and my decisions are drop-in-the-bucket enough - that I do it anyway

17. Anonymous said: I’m totally fine with bootlegs. I’ve watched so many of them that it wouldn’t be fair if I wasn’t. The fact is most people just aren’t able to see shows. Either they live too far away or they can’t afford it, and if this is the only way someone can experience a show, it’s better than never seeing it at all

18. Anonymous said: i think bootlegs are important for accessibility but i really wish more theatres would release proshots. i wouldn't even mind if it were after the broadway run or after the original cast is switched out, but i think it's valuable to have those recordings out during the run of the show to get more people interested and actually wanting to go out and see it. plus, if they're worried about money, they wouldn't *have* to be free. just cheaper than tickets and travel.

19. Anonymous said: about the question of the day, honestly i think bootlegs are fine as long as they're done respectfully and the filmers aren't distracting with it

20. locke-writes said: For the question of the day: If there’s absolutely no way I can see the show live or from a professional recording then I’m going to watch a bootleg. Theater should be more accessible and sometimes a bootleg is my only way to access a show. Having been part of film crews who have shot live theater I think a lot of the lack of pro recordings is the idea which that theater is difficult to record. It isn’t. Give me a pro shot show over a bootleg anyday but I’ll take what I can get

21. Anonymous said: My opinion on bootlegs is I prefer professional recordings ONLY because bootleg quality is terrible for my auditory processing problems and I hate the washed out quality. But since professional recordings are rare (unless you are, interestingly enough, Sight & Sound Theatre); for everyone else: BRING ON THE BOOTLEG! ~ Stripe Conlon

22. Anonymous said: Bootlegs are complicated! As a fan/consumer I think they’re okay, especially considering how inaccessible theatre is for people living in other countries, people who can’t afford to experience shows live, and disabled folks. But as someone who also performs, i understand that it can be distracting and legally complicated for actors who are trying to do their best and did not consent to being filmed that night. I just hope that pro shots will become more common.

23. penguinated said: Bootlegs are fine. They don't cost Broadway a thing since people will literally never not pay to see live shows (except during covid of course). and for many people, seeing a certain show with a certain cast will NEVER be possible, so what's the harm in watching the bootleg? The bootlegs aren't the problem, it's the inaccessibility of live theater, ESPECIALLY Broadway shows. If more things were available to stream (i.e. BroadwayHD) there wouldn't be a need for bootlegs. Bootleg away, imo.

24. Anonymous said: until theatre is made accessible to everyone and there is a proshot released for every show, bootlegs are absolutely necessary for the prosperity of theatre

25. Anonymous said: It's so sad that people think bootlegs are necessary! and it's even sadder that in a way they are. however, too many people use them as an excuse to not pursue alternate affordable alternatives for theatre (such as broadway hd, pursuing local shows including high school and college theatre, and utilizing legally free shows online). In addition, bootlegs absolutely CAN be unethically sourced- recordings of locally produced shows can get theaters in trouble and bankrupt them with legal fees. and if you're recording something from Broadway (which is fine imo usually), if you're actually making people PAY for your illegal recording, that's profiting off the work of others and is both very unethical and exploiting the very people many bootleggers claim to work for the benefit of. When it comes to bootlegs, it's one thing to pass around shows that have finished their runs on Broadway for free- but there's too much unethical and even HARMFUL bootleg behavior and it needs to stop.

26. Anonymous said: since Broadway is too rich and doesn't wanna spend money(for some reason) streaming their shows, then bootlegs are the only option.

27. Anonymous said: Theater is so inaccessible that bootlegs are necessary for a lot of people because with a lot of shows you can’t get a good idea of the show just from the soundtrack but people that share nft boots are assholes

28. Anonymous said: Bootlegs do more good than harm. Those against bootlegs are elitist and don't understand some people cant afford hundreds of dollars in theatre and plane tickets. Bootlegs make people crave the live experience more, a dark and shaky video with shit audio doesn't satiate the desire to see a show live. And if the show is closed all the more reason to watch a bootleg!

29. lynntjeeee said: Theatre bootlegs are amazing and are why there are fans. I live in a country with no musical theater (except the occasional sucky original production with a local celeb who can't sing) so if it not for bootlegs I wouldn't be able to watch any shows and wouldn't be a fan (thus not spending money on cast recordings, etc). People need to realise this, bootlegs do not harm the theater, in fact it only helps it. If there were official recordings, there would be many more fans (and thus more profit!)

30. Anonymous said: Opinion on bootlegs: They wouldn't be necessary if the theater industry would get with the times and release professional shots of their shows on streaming services/cable.

31. Anonymous said: I think that people are really overreacting about bootlegs. ESPECIALLY bootlegs if shows that have already closed- you may never get a chance to see that show! Ever! Now there’s an affordable and accessible way to see shows that people would kill and die for. It isn’t losing Broadway money, in fact it is bringing more people into the medium. Maybe if full proshots were more common I would feel differently, but since there is literally no other way, boots are fine.

32. Anonymous said: Bootleg opinion: just go absolutely hog wild. Fuck it. Be gay do crime.

33. Anonymous said: Bootlegs are one of the few things that are keeping me sane right now, plus the fact that not everyone has dat cash money to see the shows live, so yeah they're good stuff (as long as they are available online w/ at least vaguely good sound quality anyway 😆)

34. Anonymous said: I see it both ways. I can understand why those in the profession are against it; it’s their hard work that’s getting pirated. But I’m also poor. I have no access to theatre outside of cast albums and bootlegs. I don’t watch bootlegs because I personally feel guilty, but I will not and do not judge others if they do.

35. whatdoscissorsdo said: I think broadway bootlegs r okay?? eat the rich amirite

36. Anonymous said: I trade and watch bootlegs and don't plan on stopping, but I've recently realized that it must be super uncomfortable for actors to be filmed without their knowledge or consent, or just to have to have on their minds that they might be being recorded at any time in a performance. Like, I've happily watched Many™ Spring Awakening videos in the past year, but I doubt Alexandra Socha is that thrilled knowing there are videos up on YouTube of featuring her nude at age nineteen.

37. i-am-having-an-emotion said: they will remain a necessary evil until theater is more accessible to the masses. seeing real live theater is always better than a boot but literally like 95% of people can’t access live theater, especially at a broadway caliber, so like..... do The Poors not *deserve* theater??? what are we supposed to do BUT make bootlegs?

38. ope-okay said: bootlegs are blessings from heaven and no one can convince me otherwise

39. Anonymous said: I think it can really hype up the want for the musical. And a really good boot release can bring new creations to an otherwise small fandom. Personally I’m more interested in seeing the musicals I’ve seen boots of than the musicals I haven’t

40. Anonymous said: On the topic of bootlegs, I think they’re great but like especially for people who do not have the means to go see the shows during their runs, I feel like if you do have the means to go see the show you should do that instead

41. Anonymous said: I have a REALLY hard time with bootlegs. Because artists deserve to be paid for their work, and there are a whole host of copywriter issues that come with the mass production of a show. In addition though, I understand the anger you feel at not getting to see a show live, however there are so many resources available to help people get the idea of their favorite show even if they never see it. Honestly Wikipedia is my favorite resource, as often that has a full synopsis of the show. I’ll read that and then listen to the recording a bunch so I can understand the story and imagine what it may look like. A lot of shows put clips on YouTube, the Macy’s parade, the Tony Awards, NBC does a whole broadway week, there are so many ways that you can get glimpses into these shows without resorting to bootlegs (which at this point are still illegal) I’m not a supporter of the “theater must be seen live” idea. While I LOVE live theater (and as a performer I like feeding off an audience) but I’ve see shows with just proshots or just the movie version and they are still just as good. Unfortunately I think the only way we’re are going to make theater more accessible to audiences is through time. Bootlegs I think only make people less inclined to record shows and mass produce them. There are a whole lot of legal things that go into that as well. What I can say is what I’ve done. Read up on the show, watch all the clips you can, sometimes scripts are posted online maybe read those, listen to the album, look at pictures. It SUCKS that theater is exclusive, but bootlegs are not the solution.

let me repeat: if you wanna fight or agree with anyone, refer to the # and send in an ask or reply to this post.

#qotd #bootleg discourse #theatre discourse #bootlegs #not a quote #this was a fun one

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technoskittles · 5 years

Text

Fanfic author asks

I didn’t get any asks regarding this but I still kinda wanna answer the questions anyway so here goes

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

I refuse to say what my first fic was and that should be answer enough to the second part

2. What’s your most recent fic and how far do you think you’ve come?

Most recent fic is Something Good Can Work

I think I’ve come pretty far from when I first started writing. I know there’s some things I could always be better at, but I’m way happier with the stuff I was writing 5 and 10 years ago.

WAY happier

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

Oh geez that’s kind of hard because there’s a few I’m pretty proud of.

If I had to name one, it’d probably be lost & different. It’s one of my longest oneshots to date and I ended up finishing it in 2 days so...go me.

4. In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what’s your most popular fic?

Shot in the Dark. Hands down.

5. Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?

Pure Feeling probably. I think it’s mostly because it’s kind of out of place for me (I don’t typically do fics involving kids so it’s a nice change of pace)

6. Is there any fic that makes you super embarrassed to reread and remember you wrote that?

A lot of my older fics from when I wrote for Teen Titans and Soul Eater. Dark times man....dark times.

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

Pure Feeling absolutely. And I actually do want to finish Fall From Eden, but I wanna rewrite it (I first published it about 4 years ago and not only do I want to fix some things plot-wise to incorporate more of canon into it, but there’s a lot I’m not happy with that I want to try and fix)

I also have a sequel lined up for Shot in the Dark.

But if I had to pick one, definitely Pure Feeling. I want to be able to actually finish a multichaptered fic for once and by dammit I’m gonna do it.

8. What’s the oldest (longest since last update) fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

That would be Shot in the Dark. There were a lot of things I wanted to do with that AU and while I don’t think I’ll get to most of it, I do at least want to finish the sequel.

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

Nope. I don’t write for things I don’t have an interest in and typically if I haven’t consumed it, I’m not interested

10. Have you ever written for a fandom without reading other fanfic for it?

A couple, yeah. I wrote a fic for Jessica Jones (although, after I did I ended up reading a couple fics for it).

Also did a couple of fics in my early years of writing for some stuff that people probably know nothing about (but if you’re curious, Princess Ai and Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl)

11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?

I feel like it’s hard not to? Most concepts in general have typically been done before by someone. We don’t create in a vacuum.

But if I do a concept I know I’ve seen before, I typically always try to make it my own somehow. Because since it’s been done before, others have most likely seen it, so I want to show them how mine is different. I like to push the boundaries, combine different concepts together, and really create a piece that makes it unique enough to set myself apart.

I like using general concepts and deconstructing them before reconstructing them into something new that I like and want to share. And it’s always nice after I publish it and get feedback to see that people really enjoy the stuff I write.

12. Have you ever written a fic and decided never to publish it? Why?

Oh plenty for sure. More often than not, I started writing it and got stuck and then a) took so long I lost interest or b) took so long that I forgot where I was going with it

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

If we’re talking about style, I think that’s a bit harder to pin down depending on what I write. But I’ve noticed that with particular oneshots I’ve become more abstract in my writing so that’s cool

14. What’s the biggest change in your taste between when you started in fandom and today?

I used to read just about anything if it had my ship when I was younger, but as I grew older I became more and more picky. Some things can turn me off a fic completely.

I also have really grown to dislike fics that are WAY to cliche and tropey. I love tropes as much as the next person, but I feel like some people just don’t do enough with it to really make it interesting. The more cliche your fic is without much else brought to it, the easier it is for me to forget it.

15. Have you ever purposefully written one fandom/fic idea over another because you knew it’d be more popular?

Nah. I don’t typically like writing things I’m not passionate about because it’s hard to hold my attention to finish it. If I write an idea, it’s because I wanted to, not because I figured it’d get me a lot of feedback.

16. Have you ever stopped writing a fic/for a fandom because it wasn’t receiving enough attention?

Not really. Like I said before, if I don’t write for it, it probably means I’m not awfully interested anymore

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

If we’re talking about any fics, probably one of the ones I wrote for Teen Titans in my earlier days.

But if we’re talking more recent, Talking Body. Idk. I just don’t think that fic is as interesting as I thought it was at the time but it blew the fuck up regardless

18. What’s your most underrated fic?

Hybrid. I’m mostly upset because it didn’t get as much attention as the prequel before it considering that garnered a lot of attention but...c’est la vie

19. If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?

Probably pillars. It’s probably one of the most interesting fics I’ve written in terms of formatting.

20. Have/Would you ever rewrite a fic? If yes, would you take the original down?

Like I mentioned before, I do want to rewrite Fall From Eden. And yes, if and when I eventually get to that, I would be replacing all the chapters currently up.

21. If someone starts kudosing and commenting your fics in a spree and has a few works of their own, would you go look through theirs?

Not typically. I appreciate the onslaught of feedback, trust me, but I prefer to parse through the fic lists of the ships of my choosing and read from there

22. Has there ever been anyone who’s made you freak out because they read your work and followed/favorited/reviewed?

Not that I can remember. I’m sure it’s happened, I just can’t remember it haha

23. What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten?

Oh jeez that’s a tough one I can’t remember them all.

This is one that’s stuck out though

“ You really captured what post-traumatic self-destructive behaviors feel like while staying so true to their dynamic as well as getting the characterization right to the T despite the fact that the show itself is obviously much less grim (not that it's not angsty, just far from this.) Beautifully written, the repetition and the parallels really put it all together. This piece hit home. I'll remember this one. Thank you for writing it. Thank you for sharing. “

-from as my World d[ivides]

24. What’s the meanest review you’ve ever gotten? Do you think the reviewer intended it?

I’ve gotten plenty of mean reviews but most of those are from my earlier days of writing. I can’t remember any particular ones so I also couldn’t tell you if the reviewer intended it or not

25. What constructive criticism, however well-meaning, always makes you feel bad when you see it in a review?

I wouldn’t say it makes me feel bad, but I know one review I’ve seen a couple of times is when people tell me that my writing gets too prose-y. The main reason it rubs me the wrong way is because while I’m sure they’re trying to be helpful, prose is part of my style less than the logistics and structure.

My descriptions can be a bit much sometimes I guess, but more often than not, it’s there for a reason. Whether it helps set the mood, gives insight to the characters’s thoughts/motivations/feelings that really set the story, or because I want to immerse the reader in the best way possible by painting a picture.

So it’s just annoying when people tell me to tone it down because it’s too much for them. If you don’t like prose, then read something else.

26. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

My characterization. 9 times out of 10, that’s the thing I get most anxious about, so when people tell me I nail it it always makes my goddamn day

27. If you could only ever write crossovers or single-fandom fics ever again, which would you pick?

Single-fandom. Not a huge fan of crossover fics

28. if you could only ever write for a single crossover or a single fandom again, which would you pick?

Oof. That’s really tough because like I said, my interests change all the time. I typically jump from fandom to fandom and write for whatever I’m obsessed with at the time.

I guess if I had to pick though...RWBY probably.

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

I’d say it’s about even for what I’m interested at the time. Biggest discrepancy though would probably be....either Miraculous Ladybug or Fairy Tail.

I just don’t write much for those and read a lot so...

30. Do you continue to write for a fandom after you’ve moved on or do you focus solely on the new one?

Sometimes. Not too often. Because usually I’m so hyperfocused on the new shiny thing that most of my ideas end up being for that

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

I always worry that I do that for every character I write for haha.

I think my major concerns regarding that right now are Scorpia and Entrapta. For some reason I feel like they’re really difficult to write for.

32. Who’s the one character who shines without you even trying?

Yang probably. Maybe Adora

33. Is there any particular character whose scenes always wind up being longer/more frequent than you expected? Does the quality hold up?

I don’t think so?

34. Was there any fic that you wrote that really surprised you in the fandom reaction? Was it just by the numbers or did they take it an entirely different way?

I’d have to say as my World d[ivides] really surprised me. I really wasn’t sure how people would respond to that one given that it deals with a VERY sensitive subject and was positive I’d face a little bit of backlash. But honestly everyone actually really loved it and I got so much nice feedback from it.

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

Not usually

36. Have you ever sincerely written a ship you do not support into a fic?

Nope

37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?

Not that I’m aware of

38. Have you ever purposefully written something you know your readers would find uncomfortable/would not enjoy? If yes, why?

I think that would probably be Sunflower. And if you’ve read that fic you know exactly what I mean.

If you haven’t read it, I won’t include spoilers, but I did explain myself at the end of it

39. Do you consider yourself to have a readership?

I think I have a few loyal readers yeah (and I love all of them)

40. Do you feel like you put out enough content?

HA!

41. If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?

I used to crosspost when I first started on AO3 but after awhile I gave up bc I didn’t like ffnet’s set-up nearly as much. Sometimes I’ll post fics here on tumblr but I fucking HATE the formatting so...not much

42. How many views has your most popular fic gotten?

6,156 views (that would be Shot in the Dark)

43. Your least popular?

173 views - Scared to Breathe

44. Do you follow/favorite/kudos/comment/review more stories than you have received?

That’s really hard to say. I read a lot but I do have a few really popular stories so...

45. If you had to call yourself an author of a single genre (besides fanfic) what label would you give yourself?

I think my specialty is angst. You can ask most of my friends.

46. Do you consider yourself a diverse author?

I try to be. But I do think I lean towards certain areas

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Errrr...probably not? I tell people that I write fics, but I always get nervous when it comes to the thought of them actually reading them. It feels too personal somehow. Like, that’s a part of me I don’t usually let people see.

The only person who has is my boyfriend. And even then I get nervous when he does it

48. Does anyone you know from outside of fandom know you write fanfic? Are they involved in the same fandom too?

Yeah like I said, I’ve told some people. And they area typically interested in the original content, but I don’t know how involved they are in fanfiction or fandom itself

49. Has anyone in your life ever read your fanfic just because you wrote it?

My boyfriend

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

I would like to say it has. I’ve been writing for about 10 years now and it’s really opened up a lot of doors for me. I’ve met some really great people through fic and fandom. I’ve also grown as a writer after being at it for so long which has, strangely enough, helped me regarding essays and papers for school.

Writing is kind of just what I do now. It’s one of my only contributions to fandom, so it’s nice to know I can take part somehow in generating content.

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what-even-is-thiss · 7 years

Text

Fic, An Anxious Touch

@burntblackfeathers requested a fic about Anxiety being able to transfer negative emotions or feelings when he touches someone, which is an awesome idea if you ask me. And I really wanted to get it right I rewrote it like three times am I done yet its one AM

Tip Jar

Warnings: Injury mention. Bruises and muscle damage. Panic attack brief mention, but it plays no part in the story. 2,464 words.

Abstract: Pain. Panic. Discomfort. Fear. Take or give. All with a touch.

Anxiety watched on as Thomas worked, in his opinion, far too slowly. Not enough was happening.

Anxiety began to worry that not nearly enough was getting done. So, Roman wanted perfection? Well, there was a way to get that done and complete the project in a reasonable time.

Anxiety made sure no one was looking and then rolled up his sleeves. He was going to have to be discrete about this, because he had done his best over the years to make the others forget he could do it.

He knelt invisibly beside Thomas and put his hand and lower arm over his host’s. Over the course of a minute or two, Thomas became frantic. He worked at a surprisingly rapid pace and became completely obsessed with the work.

As the hours went on, Anxiety felt all the things that were being forgotten. His stomach ached because they had worked straight through lunch, his mouth went dry from not enough water, and his joints ached because Thomas hadn’t really moved much in hours. Several times he thought about making him stop so they could do some basic self care, but he was too worried, and once Thomas got out of the zone it was difficult to get him back in.

Long after the sun had gone down, it was done. Anxiety took hold of Thomas’ wrist again and Thomas, having finished editing and uploading, suddenly realized he hadn’t eaten in a while. All the discomfort involved in not moving for hours finally caught up with him and he went to go get some water and walk around a bit.

With that, Anxiety decided he wasn’t needed anymore and sunk down into his area of the mindscape.

He took a walk through his simple dark hallways and began thinking about how nervous he actually was. Not for the first time, he considered jumping up wherever Roman was and grabbing his wrists, giving him all the worry and vague feelings he had.

But he couldn’t do that. He remembered what had happened last time.

Anxiety had spent years distancing himself from the others emotionally and physically. Back when they were all just vague ideas he used to touch the others to get rid of his feelings all the time, so baby Thomas would get nightmares or feel sad or neglected for no reason or do something stupid and be disciplined by his parents.

He had learned as they became self-aware that doing that only caused impulsiveness and more problems. Sometimes even embarrassment, and he could not stand embarrassment.

However, sometimes accidental touching was something that happened. The most recent incident had been at the end of the Valentine’s day video. Normally they didn’t touch each other during talks that would be made into videos because of obvious limitations involved, but a clever bit of editing had allowed Morality to trick Roman and Anxiety into holding hands.

Now, Anxiety hadn’t thought twice about touching “Valerie” because she was an imagined version of Thomas’ friend. She had no more emotions or mental functions than a robot or an NPC from a video game.

Roman, on the other hand, was an active self-aware part of Thomas’ mind.

As soon as Anxiety’s hand had touched the prince’s, he felt a surge of pure terror. What was going to happen? When he touched someone without notice the exchange could go either way. What was happening?

In the three seconds it took them to process what was happening and let go out of shock, the pure terror Anxiety was feeling flowed into Thomas’ creativity like water from a broken dam.

Even after they let go, there was still enough embarrassment and fear left in Anxiety’s mind that the two of them ran around and yelled in almost the exact same fashion.

Only after they calmed down did Anxiety realize that he couldn’t remember if there would be any long term side-effects. About half of his negative feelings had gone into Princey, so perhaps he wasn’t as worried as he should be, but he decided not to take it away. Who knows? Could be fun.

In the following weeks, Anxiety noticed a change. The prince was on edge, he became even more of a perfectionist than usual, and it soon became obvious that he was even doubting himself a little.

Part of the reason Thomas was procrastinating was because Roman was stressing perfection even more than usual. Anxiety was secretly loving this. He knew he shouldn’t have.

As Anxiety remembered all of this, he sighed. It was tempting to go back and make Roman feel that way again, then he wouldn’t be the problem all of the time, and maybe the royal pain could learn some humility.

He kept walking. It kept his mind off of how much he regretted taking what little residue was left of the negative emotions from Roman after the originality dilemma.

It had become clear to him that things would continue for at least a couple more weeks if he did nothing, so he had snuck in when Roman was sleeping, and concentrated so he could just assess what he was feeling.

His hand lay gently on the sleeping prince’s shoulder and he felt doubt and anger that was all too familiar. He wasn’t really in a state to take on more negative emotion, but he could tell it could be weeks before Roman was back to his unbearable effortlessly egotistical self. He drew the negative feelings that didn’t belong there into himself like a sponge.

Back in the present, the effects of the Valentine’s incident had long worn off, but using his weird curse/ability always made him think about it these days. He could use it for so much more than making things happen a little faster.

He could do something selfless for once, maybe. Perhaps take away Patton’s negative feelings and confusion on the rare occasions he had them. Maybe make Logan less tired when they were on a time crunch. He even briefly thought about the possibility of helping Prince, but that thought was soon gone. He had helped him enough already.

He could give them his negative feelings for a while. Finally let them understand. Give them the knot that formed in his chest when in a crowd, or let them feel like they were dying on the rare occasion he had an attack. When those happened he was extremely tempted.

He continued walking, not really realizing where he was going, when he realized that he was walking on a street.

It was a generic suburban neighborhood, with porch lights and streetlamps the only thing lighting up the night. Patton’s area. He had really been walking for a long time, hadn’t he?

He could go say hi. He knew which house Patton lived in. All the others were empty, and Morality had made it very clear that the others were always welcome. When they hung out all together, it was usually in Morality’s living room.

Visiting Morality. That was almost as tempting as attacking Roman with insecurities. Morality would probably welcome a hug. He could touch the dad’s neck for just a second and take away all his cares, or make him tired, or anything else.

Nah. Maybe not.

Anxiety walked over to one of the neatly manicured lawns and lay down on it. Since this was the way Patton envisioned the world, of course there was no light pollution. The stars danced and moved and swirled like a drop of blood in water. They swirled slowly and made no sense. It was nice.

He could just fall asleep here, on the perfect grassy lawn with no bugs in it, watching the imaginary stars swirl like a Van Gogh painting. However, if he slept in the realm of one of the others that tended to affect their mood. The last time he had fallen asleep at Patton’s house they had all become unusually lethargic.

He wondered for the first time if that was a variation of the touch thing. Maybe. Ah, who knows?

He got up and yawned. Maybe he would go to sleep on time for once. As he was walking down the street back towards his own area, however, he noticed a figure coming down another one of the streets.

He squatted behind a bush and looked through the leaves. It was Roman, limping badly.

He stood up as the prince walked by.

“Hey, Princey,” He said, not knowing what was compelling him to do what he was about to do.

Prince grimaced in pain and disgust when he saw Anxiety.

“What are you doing here, Jack the reaper?” he snarled

“Did you seriously just compare me to the grim reaper and a serial killer?”

“Perhaps. I can only suspect what horrible things you are doing. You never come here without an invitation,”

“As far as you know,” Anxiety said with an evil smirk.

“Never mind,” Prince huffed. “I have no time to talk to you. I must see Morality,”

“Uh, why don’t you just teleport there?” Anxiety asked.

The prince looked down and mumbled in a volume Anxiety could barely understand “I can’t concentrate,”

Tears of pain welled up behind Roman’s eyes and he took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Not that you care,” He grumbled as he started to walk off. “Just don’t get in my way,”

Anxiety sighed. He still couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but there was far too much going on for Thomas to have a bruised ego. Oh well. Maybe this could be his good deed of the month. Didn’t wanna be nice too often.

He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands and then grabbed hold of Roman’s arm. Before the injured man could twist away, he snapped his fingers and they were in Roman’s room.

“What on Earth are you doing, villain?” Prince cried out. “I cannot, I… Ow,”

Roman clutched at his side, obviously in a lot of pain. Anxiety sighed. “Calm down for half a minute, will ya? Or I might just change my mind about helping you,”

Roman continued to protest, but was too weak to put up much resistance as Anxiety forced his top shirt and shoes off of him. Once he had done that he pulled his hoodie off, showing his exposed arms to one of the others for the first time in years.

He supported Roman with his left arm and held on to the arm that fit over his shoulders with his right one. Prince wore a sleeveless undershirt under his regal attire, so when he took his top layer off his arms and most of his shoulders were completely exposed.

As he led Roman to the bed he started by moving his own increasing tiredness into the other. The combined fatigue and sleepiness was so much that Roman fell asleep almost the exact instant Anxiety threw him onto the bed.

Anxiety stretched before continuing. He felt wide awake now. Annoyingly so. He wouldn’t be sleeping for hours.

He put his hand on the sleeping prince’s forehead and assessed the situation. Yes, Roman didn’t have to remember any of this.

He cringed, but made as much skin to skin contact as he dared, resting his lower arms and hands on Princey’s arms and pushing their foreheads together.

He had to hold himself like this for about a minute. There was a lot to transfer. He prayed the entire time as bruises appeared on his person and Roman’s horrible memories of being beaten flowed into him that nobody needed either of them or decided to pay Roman a visit.

He hated this. He hated it so much. This much physical contact for this long was really weird and uncomfortable, and the entire time he was taking on injuries.

After it was done, Anxiety fell on the floor, alert but injured, and with some new unpleasant memories that weren’t exactly his own. He hadn’t taken the confusion away, so he could still concentrate.

He sucked in a sharp breath of air through his teeth as he put his hoodie back on. Man, Roman had really gotten himself beaten up bad this time, hadn’t he? How had he even walked all that way?

Anxiety stood up, supporting himself on Roman’s needlessly gilded bed frame.

“See if I help you again, you reckless idiot,” He growled. “I mean it. I am not helping you again. Moron. You better not remember this,”

He grimaced as he raised his hand in the air and snapped his fingers. He appeared in his own mercifully dark room and sat down on the bed and pulled his shoes off.

He lay on the bed, staring into the darkness. He couldn’t sleep. Not one bit. All of his tiredness was keeping Roman asleep right now, and Roman’s injuries were littering Anxiety’s body.

He sat there in the dark, regretting his decision. Strangely enough though, he had no desire to reverse it. He also knew he never wanted to do it again.

He remembered the stars in Morality’s imaginary neighborhood. He wondered if he himself was capable of conjuring up such a thing. Again he considered visiting Patton. What would be there in that little mindpalace house? Hot soup and sleeping pills. A warm couch to lie on and a happy voice that would tell happy stories until he fell asleep.

No. That wasn’t for him.

He stared into the darkness until dawn. The hours ticked by like years and he was aware the entire time of every bruise and muscle injury and cut on him. It sucked. It really truly sucked.

The next week made him regret all of his life choices. His injuries weren’t obvious because he kept so covered up, but it was still a pain to move. Thankfully though, the others didn’t see him often anyways and when he begrudgingly agreed to visit Morality for a movie musical marathon he didn’t have to move much. It was apparent that Roman remembered nothing. Good. Couldn’t have him think Anxiety had done something for him.

He still did his job with the same twisted enthusiasm as ever. He still threw insults and held Thomas back from doing things and reminded him of deadlines without stopping. The only thing that changed was how much he slept.

After that first hellish sleepless night, he slept much more than usual. As much as twelve hours, so Thomas that week actually had less anxiety right before bed and right after waking up.

After the week from Hell, which he had called this in his head, was over he flopped face down on his bed after the day was over and sighed.

Stupid Roman. He meant it. He was never going to do that again. Ever.

#roman wrote a thing #sanders sides #anxiety sanders #logic sanders #logan sanders #morality sanders #patton sanders #prince sanders #roman sanders #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #fic #story #thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #platonic prinxiety

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petriichors · 7 years

Text

title: two’s company, three’s a crowd (but we’ll make it work) ship: suho centric, sulay, suchen & beginnings of sulaychen word count: 4.5k words warning: mentions of near death experiences (drowning), unresolved polyamory dynamics. notes: written for round 4 of 91daes, cross posted on lj & ao3. 91daes is such a precious fic fest to me and i was really happy to see that there was a round 4~ the prompt i picked up was: domestic au + ot3, baking, magic and though i tried, it came off as more soulmate au + magic and ot3. i had a pretty good start with writing this but lost the feeling halfway through which meant that i scraped a few ideas here and there and reworked through most of it once more.

it seems that I can’t write good endings and I didn’t want to rush any resolution of issues since it wouldn’t seem very realistic. Also, I’m not familiar at all with electric shocks and so what I’ve written is probably really far off from actual facts to fit better with the narrative!

this fic is un-beta’d so all mistakes are mine, also I’m sorry for the weird switching in tense. shoutout to H for cheering me on even in the tougher times.

summary: Junmyeon figures that if love were the ocean, falling in love would probably be as scary as walking into the large body of water.

“I went into the ocean without knowing how to swim, and went to you, not knowing how to love.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time he falls in love.

It was the ocean that he had fallen in love with; it was the ocean that drew him in. In his defence, the first time he had gone into the waters unattended was when he was five. Old enough to know better than to break away from his parents and dash towards the ocean, young enough to not care. At age five, Junmyeon thought that he could do anything he wanted and walk away unscathed.

It’s comfortable in the beginning, with a hint of excitement as the waters reach ankle height. Waves laps gently at his exposed calves, as if asking him to ‘come closer, take another step in’. And he does, he takes that next step and the step after that, moving deeper and deeper into the deep mesmerizing blue of the ocean. The edges of his shorts get soaked with salt water but he pays it no mind, not when he was nowhere deep enough. All he knew was that the ocean was calling out to him and that he had to get closer, much closer.

Later when he wakes up to the sun shining down on him and his mother sobbing over him (“oh, thank god, thank god!”), he would realize that he remembers nothing save for wading deeper and deeper into the deep dark blue. Junmyeon allows himself to be pulled into a too tight embrace by his mother, taking in sweet breaths of air into his burning lungs. His father tells him much later that he had called out to him only to be ignored and left panicking when the waves swallow up his only son. The one thing he had utmost control over in the world was the one thing that almost stole his only child away from him.

There’s a story that has been told to him over and over in his mother’s soft voice as she coaxes him into falling asleep. A tale about finding love and unlocking magic, the love story of how his parents met and how his family came to be. Junmyeon never really grasped the whole concept of it all, not at the tender age of six where everything seemed to fictional.

He understood the magic which origins nobody could explain. He’s witnessed magic firsthand during bath time with his father: water streaming upwards, forming figures and shapes and tickling his sides before his father released his hold on it. He’s experienced it first hand in how his mother cushioned his falls with gusts of wind, he’s felt the weight of it when she had tried to force air back into his lungs after he had drowned. It’s easy to understand the magic since it was something he could see, something he could touch.

Love though… it wasn’t something he could comprehend as easily. Junmyeon’s both seen and experienced love, of course. He’s seen the love his parents had for each other, he’s experienced the love they had for him and him them. Even in the books he’s read, in the cartoons he’s watched, he’s seen love all around him and yet… it was still something complex, something too abstract for him to fully understand. And if he ever got frustrated about his lack of understanding or voiced out his confusion about why he couldn’t do what his parents could with the air and water around them (“I don’t understand! I found love, eomma, I love you and appa, so why don’t I have magic too?”), his mother would assure him that he would find that one love that was meant for him eventually. “And until that day comes, you’ll find other forms of love along the way.”

As he lies in bed at age six, Junmyeon wonders if love might be similar to the ocean. It was something beautiful and mysterious (and dangerous, always dangerous for those are careless. Ever ready to pull him down by the ankles and fill his lungs). And if love were the ocean, falling in love would probably be as scary as walking into the large body of water.

The reality was this: everyone’s borne with dormant magic within him or her and the key to unlocking it was someone; a special person destined for them, a match made in heaven, a soulmate. It’s a game of luck, really, whether or not they ever get to meet. The luckier ones had soulmates who were people familiar to them, a friend, a neighbor, a schoolmate. Those with average luck are the ones who had strangers as theirs, a random face in a crowd that they get drawn to. The statistically minority, that 2% of the population with no luck at all, never had the chance to ever meet their soulmates (some so far apart from each other that finding each other was close to none. some gone before the chance ever came about).

At age sixteen, Junmyeon learns the history and technicalities behind the fairytale he grew up with (less a bedtime story now that reality bleed through) from a compulsory seminar held by his school. He learns about the social events that the government had sponsored in order to maximize the opportunity of soulmates meeting, about the registration process that comes after the meeting of his special someone. At age sixteen, Junmyeon wonders if he would have the opportunity in meeting his soulmate or if he would end up being a part of that 2% that never does. The lingering fear of never finding that one love, stemming from the tender age of six, loosens its tight hold on his airway as he clutches onto the seminar brochures and signs up for multiple mixers.

After all, some things were best left to faith and some things were better taken into one’s own hands.

When fate decides to intervene with his carefully laid out plans, he realizes how he was simply a pawn in this game of predestined matches, a piece of a puzzle being passed around until he found his place next to someone. Junmyeon realizes how powerless he really is when fate had decidedly brought him along as a witness of his date (a junior at school who had the prettiest lips, a strong love for food and a battalion of dad jokes) meeting his soulmate.

Fate: 1, Junmyeon: 0.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetie.”

“So why is everyone meeting their soulmate except me?”

“You’ll find yours soon, I promise.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time he meets his soulmate at age twenty. Dying might seem like a stretch of facts but in his defence, tripping down a couple of stairs after colliding with someone might really have caused death. In his case though, he suspected that the only thing the fall had caused was a possible concussion. Junmyeon groans as he opens his eyes to a face hovering near his own, the stairwell lights shining down around him like a halo.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there I–”

Junmyeon squints, “Are you an angel?”

“I–” The angel laughs. “No, no, I’m not.”

“You look like one,” he lets the non-angel help him up to his feet, wincing a little as he stands.

“An angel wouldn’t have caused an accident like this,” With an apologetic smile, the other male takes a step back from Junmyeon. “Does it hurt anywhere…?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I just hope I can say the same about my coffee though…” He trails off, eyes drawn to his plastic coffee cup lying on its side with its cover flung wide open. Where there was supposed to be a mess of dark liquid was nothing, instead the coffee stayed within its container, perpendicular to the floor.

“Hello, fine,” the other male chuckles. “I’m Yixing.”

“I–” Junmyeon looks back at him (the non-angel, his soulmate, Yixing). “I think you’re my soulmate.”

The coffee spills out of its cup.

They get registered on a Tueday. It’s the only day that Junmyeon ends his classes early enough to make it for an afternoon slot and it’s the one day Yixing could have off from his internship at the hospital.

After a long talk (for which a business law class might had been skipped for) and three dates (were they dates or casual meetings? What counted as dates? “Hmm, I think if we had a nice time together and one person pays for the entirety of the day, it’s a date.” “So are we dating?” “Maybe! In that case, would you like to go on another date with me, Junmyeon?”), here they were: casually holding hands in front of the local district hall. The registration process itself doesn’t take long (simple filling up of forms and a thumbprint seal does it) and whatever papers they come out with holds lesser significance as compared to a marriage certificate but Junmyeon still gets nervous.

“It’ll be okay,” Yixing reassures him, fingers laced between his. “I researched about it, it’s really easy!”

Junmyeon nods, offering Yixing a smile. He can’t bring himself to tell the other boy that it wasn’t the process that he was nervous about because it was the partial cause of his nervousness. He doesn’t tell him that the bulk of his worry was because of Yixing. In all honesty, he doesn’t have to because Yixing already knows. Yixing’s done the research.

Yixing doesn’t have elemental magic. In fact, Yixing doesn’t have any magic at all.

And when the forms ask for proof of their bond, Yixing has nothing to show that Junmyeon is his soulmate.

There are cases of people who were borne without magic, people like Yixing, but they are rare enough to be considered a myth. In a world were magic is an indication of a shared bond, the lack of it in someone marks a problem. It leads to the idea that someone didn’t belong in the relationship, that someone was still searching for their other half. That someone was cheating on a person they had not met.

In the eyes of the registry, a soulmate bond where one party had no magic was not recognized.

In the eyes of the registry, what Yixing and him would not count. Junmyeon knows this, Yixing knows this, they had done the research.

So when the forms asked about the nature of their magic, Yixing lies.

His relationship with Yixing is easy. His relationship with Yixing is fun.

It’s nothing as grand as what Junmyeon has seen in movies and books; it’s nothing as dramatic as the local drama series portray. It’s simple and light and free of tragedies. (Though his mother had jokingly asked if Yixing would like for her to play the role of an overbearing mother-in-law. Yixing had laughed before mentioning that he would be willing to take up the challenge if that meant that he could proof his affections for her son.)

There’s no need for them to fall head over heels in love, and they didn’t, because love doesn’t work that way. Love is like the ocean, you would have to wade into it, take one step after another until you’re surrounded by nothing but the deep blue.

So they do. They start off with a casual friendship, they start off with getting to know each other over time spent together. They meet up when time allows, they don’t when they get too busy. There’s no obligation in forcing themselves to go into something bigger, something more committed than they had.

The thing about wading into the ocean is that you won’t know how far you are from the shore until you look back. Looking back now, Junmyeon finds it difficult to pinpoint when they eased from friendship into possible romance. He can’t tell when he had realized that he didn’t mind spending the rest of his life with Yixing. He can’t pinpoint when it had become more comfortable for the two of them to press kisses on each other’s cheeks than to exchange quiet goodbyes at the end of the day. It might be love, but it might not. All he knows is that it isn’t just friendship anymore.

And if what they have right now is love, Junmyeon decides that people have been complicating the idea of love too much.

Though it doesn’t go to say that it has never crossed his mind that perhaps, his soulmate is still looking for someone that was his. Perhaps it’s him that there was a problem with, perhaps someone above had decided to make a joke out of his existence by giving him someone who he was never meant for.

The thoughts that creep up on him the late nights where he goes a week without meeting Yixing due to the hectic schedules of a intern nurse and a business major student council head. The thoughts sneak up on him as he shows off little water tricks he had picked up from his father (“Dad’s gonna teach you have to impress him. Watch closely, Junmyeon-ah.”) with Yixing pressed against his side.

When he mentions this to his soulmate, the other boy simply shakes his head.

“You’re mine as much as I am yours.”

“Eomma… do you think that Yixing and I are right…?”

“I think, if he makes you happy and if you make him happy, that’s as right as it can be.”

Junmyeon almost dies the first time his soulmate meets him at age twenty-three, and he wonders if all these instances of near death served as punishment for the disregard he had about soulmates in his younger days. (He half wonders if this was punishment for having someone who wasn’t his.)

This time, he doesn’t collide into someone and fall down the stairs. This time, the possibly of death isn’t an exaggeration. It starts with the accidental brushing of fingers along the corridor, which leaves a jolt through his fingers. He brushes it off as static electricity and continues down the corridor. It ends with his legs buckling from the pain that overwhelms him from shock of electricity that surges up his arm when a hand wraps itself around his wrist. The last thing Junmyeon remembers before passing out is the look of fear and concern on a stranger’s face.

He wakes up to scratchy bed sheets and his father sitting by his bedside reading a magazine. A quick glance around reveals that yes, he’s still in the hospital and no, it’s not because he had extended his visit over Yixing’s lunch break. His arm is bandaged from wrist to shoulder and it aches. “Ow.”

His father glances up from the glossy pages at his son’s groan. “Hey there, champ.”

“Hey,” His voice is hoarse, throat dry from the lack of water. His father exchanges his magazine for the cup of water sitting on the bedside table and offers it to Junmyeon.

“Slow down, slow down,” His father shakes his head, shifting his grip on the cup. “You’re going to choke yourself.”

Pulling away from the now empty cup, he clears his throat. “What happened?”

“You got a nasty electric shock. It’s not too serious but your arm’s got the worst of it. The doctor mentioned something about burns but they should heal in time.”

“Ah,” That would explain the pain that had coursed through his arm and the bandages. “Where’s mom?”

“Your mom’s outside, talking to someone.”

“Yixing?”

“No, it’s not Yixing. He’s probably doing his rounds right now.”

His mother enters the room before he could ask whom it was that she was talking to and rushes across the room to fuss over him. (“Why didn’t you tell me he was awake?” “You were talking!” “Your father, I swear. How are you feeling, sweetie?”) Despite the ache in his arm, Junmyeon allows himself to be pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

“Dad said you were talking to someone. Was it the doctor?”

“Oh! It wasn’t the doctor, no. Actually, there’s someone I think you should meet,” She pulls away from her son, turning to gesture for the stranger standing silently by his door to come closer. It was the face that he had seen before passing out. “Junmyeon-ah, this is Jongdae.”

“Hello,” Junmyeon steals a glance at his father who shrugs in response to his unasked question: who and why?

“Hello. I–uh, I’m sorry. About the electric shock. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“It’s okay,” He moves to shrug, which was a bad decision on his part when a twinge of pain shoots through his upper arm. “It was an accident.”

“Ah, yeah. It was an accident, it’s just… this has never happened before.”

Junmyeon nods, confusion evident in his expression. Clearly he was missing out on something that he was supposed to have understood, there had to be a larger reason than apology for his mother to have spent time away from him to talk to Jongdae. There had to be something bigger for her to have thought that he should meet the other boy. He turns to look at her.

“Sweetie…” She takes a step forward, resting a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder. “What he’s trying to say is that you’re it. You’re his soulmate.”

“I’m not letting you go. It’s selfish, and greedy. But I’m not letting you go.”

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“We’ll work this out, I promise.”

“Of course! So… when do I get to meet him?”

When Junmyeon first meets Jongdae upon being discharged, he spends the first ten minutes reassuring the younger male that yes, he was fine now. That the scars would fade off over time. That there was no need to apologize for the accident. That Jongdae could sit closer if he would like since the wooden table between them was a distance enough to prevent any other possible accidents with Jongdae’s electricity. The younger male merely nods, inching his chair forward a little, before resting his hands on his lap once more.

Junmyeon spends the next thirty learning about more Jongdae. He learns that Jongdae is a year younger than him. He learns that Jongdae is a musical major and had been the lead for major school productions. He learns that Jongdae’s family consisted of mostly fire elementals, so it came as a surprise that his ended up being electricity. He learns that Jongdae has been searching for him for years, going to mixers and blind dates. He learns that Jongdae’s amused by how they had been brought together by sheer luck and his friend’s clumsiness (“Chanyeol thought it would be perfectly fine to surprise Minseok-hyung from behind but look where that got him. Frostbite sure is no joke.”) which was the reason behind Jongdae being at the hospital in the first place.

The last thirty minutes goes to Junmyeon telling Jongdae about himself. About how he was in his final year as a business major and that he was looking at a couple of corporations to apply to. He tells Jongdae about his water-wind parents and how it didn’t come as a surprise that he ended up as a water elemental (much to the pride of his father) and tells him about how he learnt to control his control over water under the guidance of his father. He talks about how he met his soulmate, laughing about how the important meetings of his life always ended up being accidents.

Things get a little shakey when Junmyeon talks about Yixing and the years they had together because as much as Yixing was his, he was Jongdae’s. He falters when Jongdae offers him an apology, this time for being an intruder into something that Junmyeon already that. He thanks the younger male but tells him that there was no need for apologies. They fall silent.

Things like these were out of their control, matches made in heaven, a pre-destined partnership. What was meant to would come to be, and if that meant that the three of them were to end up with this complication, then here they would be. There was no use thinking about what if’s at this point of time, not when nothing would change. Perhaps if fate hadn’t play its part, Junmyeon would have never met Yixing and ended up only meeting Jongdae instead. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Junmyeon had Yixing. Jongdae had him. This was what they had.

When Junmyeon asks if Jongdae would like to meet Yixing, Jongdae accepts.

Yixing meets them at the hospital cafeteria over his lunch break, the only time he could really spare over the week due to it being flu season. (“Sickness waits for no one,” he shrugs as he stabs a straw into his juice box. “If it did, I might be out of a job.”)

Things go better than expected, not that Junmyeon has very good expectations of three way meetings between supposed conflicted relationships, thanks to the local drama scene. There’s no screaming, no passive-agressiveness, no throwing of water into each other’s faces. All in all, Junmyeon thinks it’s a win. Jongdae’s still quiet and nervous, hesitant with his answers as though afraid to offend anyone, while Yixing talks enough for the both of them cheerfully in between bites of his bulgogi set.

He listens to the younger male diligently as Jongdae shares his story to Yixing, asking questions and nodding along. In exchange, Yixing tells Jongdae about his family back in Changsha, pouts a little when he mentions how seldom he gets to visit now that he’s a full fledged nurse. He talks about his work in the hospital and the people he’s met in his time here. He tells Jongdae about how he had tripped Junmyeon down the stairs on their first meeting. Tells Jongdae about Junmyeon’s parents, about Junmyeon’s embarrassing stories (“You should see his face on the rollercoaster, it’s the funniest thing ever.”) and about the really bad jokes Junmyeon has shared over the years.

When the end of his lunch break draws near, Yixing ushers his boyfriend away. “I want to talk to Jongdae alone. Go to the bathroom or something.”

“What?”

“I want to talk to Jongdae. Alone. Without you. We have secrets to spill. Buy me some chips, please!”

Grumbling, Junmyeon gives in to the Yixing’s request. “Alright, alright.”

Waving his boyfriend away, the nurse lets out a chuckle before turning back to face the younger male. Jongdae fidgets, uncomfortable with the fact that it was just the two of them now. This was it, this was how he was going to be threatened and chased away.

“Here! These should be helpful,” he pulls out a pair of latex gloves and presents them to Jongdae. At the younger male’s confusion, Yixing smiles. “You won’t shock us if you have these on, I promise. We’ll find something better later, these are all I have now.”

Jongdae nods, staring at the pair of gloves that Yixing drops into his hands. “I– thank you.”

“Also, if you have any questions about Junmyeon, don’t hestitate to ask me, alright? I’ll help you out. We’ll work it out.”

“Thank you,” Jongdae hestitates once more, glancing up at the older male. “But why are you helping me? Wouldn’t it be easier for me to… leave…?”

“Why would you leave?”

“Because I’m intruding, I don’t–”

“He’s yours as much as I’m his, Jongdae-ssi,” Yixing interrupts. “There’s nobody else I would be willing to share with him but the person for whom he was meant for. We’ll make this work.”

When Junmyeon returns with a pack of chips in hand, he’s greeted with the sight of Jongdae’s gloved hands in Yixing’s. Yixing shoots him a grin, passing Jongdae’s hand over to Junmyeon as he grabs hold of the chips. “I’ll see the both of you soon!”

They could make this work.

They get registered on a Tuesday. It’s the only day Yixing could wrangle a lunch break to meet them at the local district hall. After three long talks across two weeks between the three of them, Junmyeon had given in to the insistence of Yixing wanting to be there for the registration despite him not needing to. There were better uses for his hour-long lunch break, Junmyeon argues, he could grab a proper meal and get some actual sleep but Yixing waves it off. (“I’ll be there, wait for me, okay?”)

And so they do, they wait outside the distract office. Jongdae and him don’t hold hands, not because they can’t but because Jongdae doesn’t want to even though he has his leather gloves on. (“I can’t risk hurting you.” “You won’t, you’re wearing your gloves.” “I’m still not risking it.”) It’s a quiet wait in the late autumn afternoon once they had run out of topics to talk about before the final person of their trio arrived. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, it’s something that they’ve gotten used to after all the times they’ve settled into the lack of conversation whenever they were left alone for extended periods of time without having Yixing or Junmyeon’s parents around.

The sound of running marks the arrival of Yixing who waved cheerfully at the pair as he made his way towards them. “Sorry, sorry! I missed the bus down. Did you wait?”

“Of course, we did!” Jongdae chuckles when Yixing reaches out to him, lacing their fingers together.

“You told us to, remember?” Junmyeon adds, shaking his head in amusement when Yixing’s hand had wrapped around his wrist.

“Go! I’ll be here when you’re done,” Yixing pulls the both of them towards the building, offering them two thumbs up when they turned back to glance at him. “Now, it’s my turn to wait.”

It’s tough being in a relationship with a person, let alone two. Despite being the one who was the link in their relationship, Junmyeon was more often than not the first one to flounder when it came to establishing dynamics. The whole is more than the sum of its parts and this was was more than trying to fit someone new into something that Yixing and him had shared for years.

It didn’t help that Jongdae wasn’t able to get over the guilt of having hurt Junmyeon once before. It didn’t help that Jongdae had decided to keep his distance when they had first met as a trio out of fear that he would hurt either of them during their time together. It didn’t help that he refused to touch either of them even after they had managed to close the distance between them.

What helped was the balance that Yixing had brought back to the disbalance that was created when Jongdae came into the picture. What helped was the patience that Yixing had when it came to dealing with both Junmyeon’s frustrations and Jongdae’s worries. What helped was Yixing’s suggestion of getting Jongdae a pair of leather gloves instead of the disposable latex ones so that he could have the opportunity to reach out for them whenever he wanted to. What helped was the fact that Yixing had more than enough love to share amongst the three of them.

They weren’t perfect in any sense of the word, no. But perhaps, one day, they would get there.

#suchen #sulay #exowriternet #exo fic #exo fanfiction #suho #lay #chen #fic fic baby #exo #my writing #this is the longest thing i've ever written omg

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fleurdelissaswords-blog · 7 years

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Tupeck the Rapping Parrot’s ThugLife Bible Study #6: IT’S EASTER Y'ALL!!!“ (The Easter Story, Attempt #5) More in our Conversations with Talking Parrots Series.

We’re watching The Jesus Strand: A Search for DNA this Easter Sunday on the History Channel. We look forward to all of the awesome religious shows and docs on Easter weekend each year. Studying history and theology and science is a passion of mine I share with my feathered and furry family members as well… and it always makes for some funny content as I attempt to get my ThugBirdie Tupeck to get some religion. The talks after leave everyone hysterical.

This show aims at finding the true DNA of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and that of his family to help science and religion come together to finally bury the friggin hatchet. Can’t we all just get along? I happen to be a fan of both. It is my feeling that if God created the universe and all of this, and us, the more we understand it, the more we understand how perfect God’s plan really was. We are just observing the principals of this perfect world and explaining it in scientific terms that humans understand better.

Many of our readers and fans know that living with a parrot who wants to be the world’s first rapping parrot, and being talked into managing his career by the bird himself, is a challenge. Birds are typically NOT an easy type of pet! There exotic animals with exotic diets. Food items are often the stuffs of our conversations with the birds to help them learn to identify and request different food types. In fact Tupeck’s first original song was about how he had blueberries and Greek yogurt for breakfast. Lol. So we included the original artwork for the show, as well as a cute drawing of foods from Jesus’ time we found online here: http://gssroom9.blogspot.com/2014/03/re-jesus-strand.html… we get really into these birdie Bible lessons, but our birds are super smart! So join us on this Easter Birdie Bible Lesson! They’ve already requested the next Bible lesson being about the Last Supper. Lol. 😂🙈

I’m the mom and the manager of a parrot who wants to rap. Lol. And for years Tupeck parrot begged and I kindly said "hells nah! Not happening… you’re a bird!” But years later I realized he was really talented and loved music and hip hop, and that it was therapeutic for him in a way… and I’ve also just given up trying to get the ThugLife out of him. It’s just who he is. And in this family we accept each other for who they are. But my influence over the years has helped make his musical tastes a lot more diverse and he’s calmed down a lot. Yay patience! Lol. And Praise the Lord! 😜✊🏽🙏🏽 #LoveWins

Many of you also know that every Easter we have this weird family tradition of trying to give Tupeck a bible lesson and see if he will finally accept Jesus. In previous years he decided that since “Tupac was coming back too” and cuz he can rap on top of that, that Tupac held the top position in Tupeck’s heart when it comes to any religion. Lol. It was his very first Easter Sunday lesson after we got him that he said that. That’s how smart he is. He had already drawn a comparison between what Jesus did and Tupac’s life. Meaning he understood abstract human concepts more than the average bird! His vocabulary is also quite large… a lot of it we cannot repeat here and he knows he is not allowed to say and we don’t encourage it. But that’s how hard birds are. Imagine trying to have a family dinner while a bird raps and discusses his biz plan for becoming the next rap superstar?… and your mother is there. Get the idea?!

So for our yearly Easter Birdie Bible Study Lesson, I decide to taker a more scientific genetic route to explaining this to Tupeck. Maybe that would help? One can hope… so this ThugLife Bible Study Lesson is for Easter 2017! And our new attempt at getting Tupeck born again. We often use analogies that may not make sense to the common Christian, to explain things in terms a thug celebirdie can comprehend. It may be unorthodox, but we hope it’s slowly working. He didn’t like the audio bible we tried a while back. So yay for being innovative to get thru to inner city birds. Lol. We hope it doesn’t offend anyone… cuz tbh that’s Tupeck’s job as much as we try to keep him from doing so. He is bound to offend someone’s sensibilities… we were fans of anything ThugLife before this bird came into our lives either. Everything I know about hip hop I’ve learned from my parrot. Lol.

Let our ThugLife Bible Study Lesson begin…

Me: “Do you know why this religious documentary show is groundbreaking?”

Tupeck: “Absolutely!” 😚 (but I can tell he has no clue)

Me: “I’ll give u a hint: it’s possibly groundbreaking for television, history, and religious studies!” E Tupeck: “And Tupac!” 😜✊🏽

We all laugh. 🙈

Me: ok kiddo, and Tupac… of course. Now, on this show, they’re trying to find Jesus’ family of priest kings from the Davidic line using any dna they can track down to test.“

Tupeck: weird confused look. 😳

Me: "yeah part of the big deal about Jesus was he was from the line of David, therefore a priest king… this was back when they preached while they also kinged and stuff!” (The Messiah concept)

Tupeck: “YEAH?!” (Now he gets it! We’re taking about a VERY important person! We now have his attention… he is really only interested in celebrities.)

Me: “Yes… it was a different time.”

Tupeck: “Tupac was a priest king… and a talker!”

Me: 😂😂😂🙈"Yes Tupac was a good talker. Preachers were very good at talking! It’s what they did.“

Me: "If Jesus was alive today, what do you think he would say?”

Tupeck: “he’d be talking!” 🤗(thank you Captain Obvious! Lol)

Me: “yes cuz preaching is very similar to talking, except, they talk about God… and paying more attention to your bible studies!”

Tupeck: *beatboxes* cuz all Bible studies require beatboxing. And all good talkers in his opinion, should know how to beatbox. 🙈 Crap, is this lesson going downhill already? Ok time for a new strategy!

Me: “well if you were to make a song for Jesus, what would it be? Let’s make a song for Jesus… cuz that’s totally a thang.”

Tupeck: *thinks for a min, then lays down a few beats for mood* “Ooooh, baby I looove yoooou!!!” 😚

Me: 😂👍🏽 “I consider this a success, even though it’s basically your epic love ballad you intend to record on your first demo…”

We all sing a few more repeats of this one line… cuz the song so far only has or needs this one important line. Tupeck is proud. I’m just proud he finally made a Christian-ish song of some sort after 6 years of trying to get some religion into him.

Me: “have I told you about the story of the loaves and fishes?… you like bread!”

Tupeck: listens intently… cuz indeed he does love bread. Lol “Yeah yeah!” (Said in a Beavis and Butthead voice)

Me: “now back in Jesus time, there were crowds at his shows too… they called them ‘the multitudes!’”

Tupeck: “ok.” 😯

Me: “I know you think only rap stars have crowds, but Jesus drew big crowds too! Once thousands had come to hear him talk, like people went to hear Tupac talk, and at the end they realized the multitudes were hungry, but they didn’t have enough food to feed everyone who’d traveled a long way to hear Jesus talk.”

Tupeck: 😱 (this is indeed a problem)

Me: “here, watch this scene from YouTube about this… Jesus did something really cool to make sure everyone had food!”

Link: https://youtu.be/GolUi2yu7nA (I show Tupeck this clip cuz if it’s on YouTube, in his head, it’s true! He’s the biggest YouTube addict. Lol. We had to set some limits and Parrontal Controls cuz it became a problem.)

Me: “that day Jesus did something REALLY COOL. Cuz he believed in taking care of his peeps. He only had a couple loaves of bread and few fishies. But Jesus was the Fisher King, so he gave thanks to God and blessed the fishies and 💥 BAM! 💥 Food for everyone appeared and everyone was happy!”

Tupeck: “woah!”

Me to myself: “this is actually finally working… he seems interested in learning about Jesus! HUZZAH!!! It’s a miracle!!!” *gives thanks to God* 🙏🏽

Me: “remember when Pac hosted all of those picnics in the park for the gang kids in California, and brought in Snoop Dog and other artists, and told the kids they’d keep hosting those events as long as people all got along… and the ThugLife code was born from those events trying to bring inner city kids together without hurting each other.”

Tupeck: 😱 *Gasp!* (he has found another thing in common between Jesus and Tupac… which of course was my brilliant idea! *high fives self!*

Me: “kinda is a lot like how Jesus talked to the crowds and fed them afterward cuz he cared about his people and mankind. Tupac did too!”

Tupeck: *beatboxes more excited about this idea*

Me: “what if Tupac could have been one of these living decendants of Jesus like this show is trying to solve? They seem to have a lot in common. Tupac did a lot of the same stuff Jesus did to try to teach and help people. It was just a different time and different problems in the world. Cuz they both wanted to help the world.”

Lil Homie, Tupeck’s number one crew member and fellow flock member who isn’t famous and doesn’t wanna be, has been listening intently and chimes in here to tell us he likes this idea of people (and creatures) taking care of each other. Awe. 🤗 He may have some big questions about how Tupeck has been running his crew of homies (aka: flock) after this lesson. Lol. 🙈

Me: “on this show, they’re trying to track down blood and bones that may have belonged to Jesus to do sciencing tests to see who the rest of his family is and find out more about Jesus… pretty cool huh! Cuz there’s a lot we don’t know about this guy yet he is the biggest most important historical figure of all time according to many humans. He was either the Messiah, or a gifted Prophet, or a loving teacher of men.”

Me: “Tupeck?… 😳… Tupeck?!… hey, why are u preening during our Easter Sunday bible lesson? It’s time to listen and learn.”

Tupeck: “meh” 😒

Me: “welp, I had him for a moment!… it’s better than Easter sermons of years past… YAY PROGRESS!!!… and for once no talk of Llamas in God’s plan!” 😜✊🏽 (cuz we all know Llamas were either a glitch in evolution or God’s biggest mistake, depending on which you subscribe to. Llamas are an obsolete model. But this is the source of ongoing arguments between myself and a Tupeck parrot. *See our series on this blog: “The Ongoing Llama Feud between FleurDeLissa and Tupeck Parrot.”)

And Look for Tupeck the Rapping Parrot’s Gospel-Inspired song soon on a digital media site near you! 🎼🎤🎧 (Yeah, Tupeck made me say that plug.)

Overall we liked the show. I really enjoyed learning about the reliquaries they were using and their history. They discussed the link between John the Baptist as a cousin of Jesus too, which I really loved and have always thought myself. Just ask Da Vinci! He knew.

They showed a lot of historical sites from the Bible stories too, like the place where Jesus fed the multitudes as told in this story, and where he walked on water… tbh i woulda done the SAME thing the guy did on the show upon seeing it! I’d love to go to those holy sites someday myself.

So be sure to check it out on History Channel Easter Sunday (& in sure they’ll rerun it and have dvd’s of the show to add to my growing collection of religious historical documentaries!)

It was really good and I like how they traveled to different locations of where real reliquaries have been kept to show more context for the story that is sure to continue to evolve, as scientists and universities do more DNA tests on remains of people from biblical times found. I like how they retold some of the stories and how excited one of the guys was to be seeing these historic places. At times his buddy was just like 😳?? And he was all 😱😜✊🏽!!! Lol. although tbh my personal feeling was that Jesus walked on water cuz he was smart and new sharks and beasties live in the oceans. So when Tupeck asked about that, I calmly referred to the atrocious campy horror about bullsharks killing peeps at the beach playing on Scy-Fy at the same time. It seemed to work for now, but maybe our next ThugLife Bible Study will be about that biblical story.

Submit your ideas of which bible stories we should teach Tupeck the Rapping Parrot next, below in the comments or on my Twitter! And be sure to check out my archives for the rest in the Tupeck's ThugLife Bible Study series to find out what Tupeck the Rapping Parrot thinks about Judas, and other notable biblical figures! I promise they're all funny and will make you laugh. And check out my other TV show and movie reviews and recaps! Don't forget to follow me here as well to stay updated on what Tupeck parrot is doing next... and yes the Latin-inspired collaboration album for charity with the llama factions is still in the works! Whodathunk this bird could actually find a famous llama on twitter to connect with... then he drafted the ThugAnimal code when he heard there was a war going on between the Llama and Troll factions... whom he also found on twitter... cuz Twitter. 🙈 And Tupeck sends all of his loyal fans a big huge air kisses and a "Keep Your Beak Up!"... cuz #ThatsMyBoy. Lol.

For more info on this documentary, click here: http://www.history.com/specials/the-jesus-strand-a-search-for-dna

© 2017, Fleurdelissaswords, Tupeck the Rapping Parrot (yeah he demanded rights to all content about him in our “contract negotiations.” 😂🙈 Lol) Sharing is Caring so pass this blog on! Share it with your animal loving and Jesus loving friends!… and yeah even those annoying ThugLife friends. Lol. 😉😘❤

-Keep Your Beak Up!- is copyrighted and trademarked… cuz “dang contract negotiations with parrots!” 😱

@historychannelvikings @historychannel @tupac-2pac @tupactheoutlaw @makaveliminded @makavellian @makavellidon-blog @thuglife @thuglifepanda @thuglife1990s-blog @2pacdaughter @2pacsoul @2pac-makaveli-shakur @2pacabra @hiphopclassicks @hiphopcassette @hiphopfightsback @hiphop-in-the-brain @parrots4cake @parrotsland @parrotsbeak @parrotsdoinghumanjobs @parrotswithbenefits @birdsonly @birdschoolforbirds @birdstump @animalstalkinginallcaps @animalswithstuffedanimals @animalsthatdopeoplethings @puglifestyles @puglifedallas @catsofinstagram @grumpycat @grumpycatfan @celebritycloseup @celebritypets @celebritypetsargentina @famousdogs-blog @jiffpom @jiffpom24-blog @boothedog @dogshamingusa-blog @dogshaming @catshaming @cattechnology @kittenskittenskittens @kleeklutch @mimithebabyfox @charlesgame @macawclothing @macawsrule-blog @conuresagainsthomework @conures-life

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gibsongirlselections · 4 years

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The ‘Moral Clarity’ of the Mob

Things move quickly though not evenly. Last week, more statues of American and Confederate figures were torn down, another riot broke out in Portland, there were rumblings that Hamilton might be next on the cancel list, and the California state legislature voted to strike anti-discrimination language from its constitution in obeisance to the inequalities of left-wing identity politics. All this was leading up to a Fourth of July weekend that, according to some elites, was to be unlike any other. As Maeve Reston put it at CNN, “many Americans” would spend this Independence Day “wrestling with the racist misdeeds of the country’s heroes” and “attempting to relearn the nation’s history.”

How galling to discover they did no such thing. Outside of our newsrooms and faculty lounges, most Americans went about the Fourth as they always had, grilling burgers and dogs, sending up fireworks, belting out the patriotic hymns. That polls show they also want justice for George Floyd was no great obstacle to celebrating a country where such self-correction is not only possible but part of the national credo. The bourgeoisie Bolsheviks, who want to repudiate that same country, must have been furious; the damned rubes, they must have concluded, were in need of a little “moral clarity.”

Some explanation on those last two words. In early June, the progressive writer Wesley Lowery sent a tweet calling for the journalism industry to be rebuilt into “one that operates from a place of moral clarity.” By that, he meant reporters should tell truths—which is to say, truths friendly to his worldview—rather than assume a position of supposed objectivity. This drew a lengthy essay from Andrew Sullivan, who argued that in exalting “moral clarity,” Lowery had eschewed moral complexity. The result of such thinking, Sullivan said, is a new orthodoxy that sees America as fundamentally racist and tainted rather than a liberal work in progress. This “manic, Manichean world” forbids any disagreement, viewing dissenters as suspect and demanding they be ousted from their jobs. Moral clarity, in other words, is just an excuse for totalitarianism.

From there came another piece (last one, I promise) by Masha Gessen at the New Yorker, who asked, “Why are some journalists afraid of ‘moral clarity’?” Gessen took issue with Sullivan and what they saw as his false antithesis, placing left-wing moral clarity and moral complexity in opposition. In fact, Gessen said, moral clarity is not simplistic at all. Rather it’s “a quest, guided by clear values and informed by facts and context, and clearly aligned with the original concept of journalistic objectivity.” Gessen then attempted to clarify where exactly this intrepid “quest” might take us:

Just a few years ago, the question of whether couples of the same sex should have the right to marry was up for discussion. Today, there would probably be an outcry if the Times decided to stage a pro-and-con debate on the issue, because the Supreme Court has ruled that marriage is a constitutionally protected right and because public opinion has shifted. Whether Americans should have access to universal, taxpayer-funded health care is currently subject to debate; with any luck, in ten years, it will not be.

In other words, moral clarity means the hardening of left-wing policy preferences into unquestioned cultural assumptions. Because Sullivan is arguing against this, because he wants to continue to think about these things, he’s an intellectual anarchist; he believes, as Gessen put it, that “everything should be subject to debate, that the sphere of legitimate controversy ought to be boundless.” This, of course, is what many liberals used to believe, with “question everything” their mantra. But that was decades ago. Much has changed since then. The left has won the culture war; its ideas are ascendant. Free inquiry is less useful now, allowing, as it does, annoying challenges to the enforcement of left-wing doctrine, including the view that America is terminally stricken by racism. This new consensus, Gessen says, is “based on a different set of assumptions than the old story—and this is a good thing, and a necessary thing, as is moral clarity.”

In addressing Gessen’s argument, we might start by recalling the last time the term “moral clarity” entered our lexicon: during the run-up to the Iraq war. Back then, the conservative author William J. Bennett published a book titled Why We Fight: Moral Clarity and the War on Terrorism. From there, “moral clarity” became a rallying cry for those who wanted to shut down criticism of the Bush foreign policy, especially objections that it was too simplistic, too heedless of the Middle East’s complexities. 9/11, the Bush defenders argued, had cleared up all that. It had dawned a new age, one that had thrown the world into stark relief. Whereas before we might have tolerated or ignored Saddam Hussein, now we could see his evil clearly, and really, that was all we needed.

Except it wasn’t all we needed. We stormed into Iraq on a carousel of twirling rationales—WMDs, international law, democratic values—with a single moral fact at its center: Saddam was evil. The result was chaos, bloodshed, sectarian strife, civil war, and a botched occupation that’s left America hog-tied to Mesopotamia to this day. Moral clarity proved insufficient. It gave us an exhilarating sense of self-righteousness, but it couldn’t answer all the subsidiary questions that followed: how to patch up ancient Sunni/Shia enmities, how to occupy a turbulent nation. Yet even still, its powerful glow, its alluring reductiveness, proved difficult to extinguish. As late as 2008, Ari Fleischer was telling the New York Times that what he would miss most about George W. Bush’s presidency was its moral clarity.

Today it’s the wokesters who lust after such simplicity. Confronted with immense questions of race and progress, they prefer a single moral clothesline: the racists have got to go. Period. QED. And it’s certainly true that racism is poisonous, just as it was true that Saddam Hussein was evil. Yet just as Saddam’s iniquity didn’t sort out everything that came afterwards, so too does racism’s wickedness not necessarily justify the destruction of statues, the censure of our past, the condemning of America as incurably bigoted. These things are complicated, especially as they phase from the concrete into the abstract, a single statue to our entire history. The only way to consider all their facets is to subject them to input from all sides, to rigorously debate them. I can’t speak for Andrew Sullivan, but that’s how I would defend moral complexity. Gessen waves all this away: too late, the new consensus is already here. Yet some of history’s worst crimes have been committed under the auspices of a revolutionary and uniform moral understanding. Would only that we’d questioned them more.

Ahead of the Fourth of July, officials in Los Angeles County banned all fireworks, an injunction echoed by Governor Gavin Newsom. Californians considered this, then said: nah. On Independence Day, they absolutely lit up the Los Angeles skyline, a spectacular rejection of authority in a million colors. And therein lies another reality about America and moral clarity. Our country, it’s true, sometimes falls for moral panics and simplifying ideologies, like the kind currently mobbing our statues. But when those hegemonies intrude too far, when they push too hard, the middle finger tends to go up rather quickly. That isn’t the best manifestation of free inquiry, but it does amount to a kind of genetic defiance, a built-in defense mechanism against pointy heads who wield power too piously and think they have all the answers.

Gessen and friends assume that history is on their side. But the rest of America gets a say, too. And it just might be that they buck this pack of moralizing totalitarians the same as they have others before.

The post The ‘Moral Clarity’ of the Mob appeared first on The American Conservative.

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mindthump · 7 years

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Flying Lotus doesn’t ‘give a f***’ if anyone buys his disturbing new movie http://ift.tt/2vjXaKl

Even if you don’t know Flying Lotus (real name Steven Ellison), you’ve probably heard him. The 33-year-old producer from Los Angeles has made a name for himself over the past decade crafting daringly abstract soundscapes, and working with the likes of Thom Yorke, Herbie Hancock, Kendrick Lamar, and George Clinton. You may have even taken a joyride or two to his radio station on Grand Theft Auto V. But did you know he’s making a horror movie that could be the most grotesque film released all year? In our exclusive Flying Lotus interview, we ask him all about the insanity that is Kuso, the first film he’s written and directed.

“I don’t give a f*ck if no one buys my movie because I can tour it like I would tour a DJ set.”

Kuso is set in Los Angeles after an earthquake, and that is where the familiarity ends. Instead of a linear storyline, Kuso ties together absurdist tales of CGI abortions and Strangers Things-esque tree creatures. Lotus’s wanted the horror of Kuso to hit closer to home than other scary flicks.

“Kuso wasn’t meant to be the grossest, most shocking thing of all time. It’s supposed to show everyone their ugly ass in full HD,” Lotus told Digital Trends. “I was tired of everything being so clean, glossy, and everyone trying to beautify it and make it all pretty, and I thought ‘yo ass ugly.’ That was going to be the name of the movie, Yo Ass Ugly.”

Before Kuso streams into your nightmares on horror streaming service Shudder on July 21, Lotus sat down with us to explain how he got the the godfather of funk George Clinton to play a sordid doctor, what virtual reality game scares him more than horror films, and how Robocop inspired his latest creative effort.

Editor’s note: The following includes explicit subjects and language.

Digital Trends: I just have to say, Kuso is one of the most beautifully grotesque films I have ever seen. I do not think I will ever look at boils the same again. Did you go into the film trying to one up other horror films?

Flying Lotus: I wouldn’t say it like that. I think that I was just tired of people cutting away from the good moments. We’ve been bombarded with PG-13 horror stuff for so long, CGI horror. I was just so tired of it. I wanted to do something that reminded me of my childhood. Those things that get burned in your brain as a kid that you’ll never forget.

For me, it’s the first Robocop. It was hard as fuck. When they killed Murphy in the beginning and they shoot his arms off and all that shit like “Whoaaaaa!” [Laughs and flails arms] I’ll never forget that shit. As a kid, I had nightmares … and I wanted to do that to somebody. [Laughs]

Kuso is being released on horror-film streaming service Shudder and has a limited showing in NYC and LA. Did the graphic nature of the film affect how you released it?

I didn’t concern myself with all of that stuff initially. I was just like “Fuck it. I’m going to do what I need to do. I don’t care about whatever, I’m just going to keep going.” Then as it started to get close to finishing I began to think about that. My initial thought was “I don’t give a fuck. Okay? I don’t give a fuck if no one buys my movie because I can tour it like I would tour a DJ set.” That was my original plan. I was just going to make the movie right after Sundance, go on the road and tour the shit out of it, show it to everybody, and DJ at night. Make my money back. I said that on the internet and the next day I had an offer.

So you tweeted out your plan and the next day Shudder made an offer?

Right after the Sundance screenings and all this talk about walk-outs I thought, “People are talking about it, maybe I won’t sell it. I’ll just keep this motherfucker.” Then the next day there was an offer.

If I sold Kuso direct to YOU the fan. Would u buy it?

— KUSO July 21st! (@flyinglotus) January 26, 2017

I have to ask about George Clinton’s character in Kuso, a deranged pseudo-doctor who cures a man’s strange affliction in an even stranger way. How did you get the Godfather of Funk to play such a grotesque role?

[Laughs] I got a good story about George. We have been working on music for a project of mine and all the while I was thinking I’d get Craig Robinson to play the doctor. We had been talking a bunch and trying to get our schedules in line, but in the back of my mind I thought George would be great. I wrote this stuff already and I was like, “Hey George, what do you think about being in my movie?” He said [high pitched voice] “Alright.” I asked him, “What do you think about showing your butthole on camera?” He looked at me and said “Nah.” [Laughs] So, we had to get a puppet.

Music plays a big part in the film and you even tweeted recently that half of your new album is in the film. How did that happen?

I kind of knew the album was going to be in it. I just didn’t want to say it publicly until later on. I didn’t want the focus to be about the album. I think it’s really easy to make it a Flying Lotus thing and a music thing all of the time. I wanted to let the film live as what it is before I started bringing my album into it and then it’s, “Oh, now you’re speaking my language. It’s music? I fuck with you now, man.” I wanted to wait, because I knew it would be a different reaction, initially.

You are the grand nephew of Alice Coltrane, a great jazz composer and wife of jazz legend John Coltrane. Do you think growing up with that kind of pedigree helped shape your creative endeavors? Have you always known you’d be deeply involved with music?

It had a big effect on me. If anything, I just knew you can do anything. If you pursued art in a way that was genuine, passionate, and you really pushed it, you could make something. I have examples of that in my family. That holds people back a lot of times. They don’t have examples to go by. So it seems way less tangible and more of a dream that you can make it in art. But, if you have these people around you, I think it becomes a little bit more of a reality.

Warp Records

I went to see my cousins perform jazz concerts and all this stuff, so I’ve seen it and grew up thinking this can be a real thing if I grind. It was funny, though, because I remember a lot of them as the weirdos, even though they are cosmic jazz motherfuckers. [Laughs]. They’re like, “What the fuck are you making over here?” I’m like, “What the fuck are you making?” So, I’m just glad it all worked out. [Laughs]

You’ve worked with some amazing artists. George Clinton, Thom Yorke, Kendrick Lamar, etc. You even worked on a song with Michael McDonald for Thundercat’s latest album Drunk. Are there any artists you really wish you could do songs with even if they are not in the same genre, per se, as you?

I really would love to do a track with Beyoncé. I don’t know how it would sound. She invited me over before Lemonade came out. She played me the album just as it is now. I was hoping it wasn’t done yet.

She was like [imitates Beyonce’s voice] “If you want to remix this thing, I kind of don’t like the drums.” I was like, “A remix? B, noooooo!” She was like, “You want to do something original, don’t you?” I was like, “Yessssss!” So, we’ll see what happens.

What is your most memorable studio session?

There’s so many good ones. The Kendrick Lamar situation when he worked on my album [You’re Dead] was really special. He came by the house. There was no email shit. He came through in a hoodie, by himself. I played the beat, he wrote the song on my couch.

I was like [gasps], “Oh fuck. That’s where we’re going with it, K?” I’ll never forget it.

“The racial shit is just way too intense. It was a response to a police shooting, but it was too much.”

For such an unabashedly dark film, were there any scenes in Kuso you cut out?

Yeah, there were a couple things. More of the animated stuff. There’s a sequence where it’s about a cop, a really racist cop. A black cop. To me, I didn’t think it was the right thing to say right now, in these times.

The racial shit is just way too intense. It was a response to a police shooting, but it was too much. I was just like, “This ain’t right. I don’t want to be hated by every Black person.”

Kuso is so out there and horrific, I wonder if there are there any horror films that scare you. Are there?

No, the video games do. Resident Evil 7 is the most terrifying shit ever. The VR is crazy. I remember playing and it starts out really beautiful outside. It’s sunny and shit. You go to the house and it’s just a black door. You just have to walk into the darkness. I was like, “Nahhhhh, I’m goooooood.”

Would you ever use virtual reality for anything, music or film-wise?

There’s Kuso VR. We showed it yesterday. It’s still being finished. It’s really cool, though, it’s all interactive. I will tell you one thing, there’s different little mini-games. There’s a part where you can play “midi titties.” Evil titty monsters you slap that go “bum, bum, bum, bum” [Laughs].

Do you have plans for a follow up film after Kuso? What would you do differently, if anything?

Hell yeah. I’m writing a new film right now that is crazy, but it’s not Kuso. It’s nothing like that. But, it’s a bit different. It’s like my Being John Malcovich movie.

#IFTTT #Feedly

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