#a member of the discord suggested that this is a genre of angle called

[front-facing-pokemon]

[yehet-me-up]

White Rabbit

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (gender not specified)

Word Count: 5,091

Genre: hacker!AU 🧑🏻‍💻, Matrix vibes inspo, angsty but with a happy/hopeful ending

Rating/Warnings: (M) - mentions of violence/blood, swearing, death of a family member (brother), gunshot wounds

Summary: After his brother’s murder took everything from him, Jungkook is dead set on revenge, even if it costs him his own life. But at the last moment he finds a ray of light, of hope. At the last moment, he meets you.

The blood on the wall is not his, but it haunts him just the same.

He rests in bed though he hardly feels the full meaning of the word. The blackout curtains are pulled tight, blocking any errant strands of sunlight that would seek to come in. Jungkook knows he’s isolated himself, but he can’t find it within himself to care. With a groan he turns; the mattress and bedframe whine metallically, protesting the movement. The blankets would be warm and comforting - if he had pulled them fully, properly over him. But he can’t get comfortable; he forbids it.

Revenge and retribution are the twin flames that sustain him these days. They pull him through the pit of his loss like a rope around his waist, tied behind a moving truck. Through the mire of pain all he can see is one purpose. A single goal he clings to. Perhaps on the other side of his task he’ll find peace, or at least satisfaction that justice has been done. It’s a silly hope but it’s what he has, and he’ll sink his nails and his teeth into it with all the energy he has left.

Sweat coats his back in the midst of his half-awake state. Somewhere between dusk and dawn he found an uneasy sleep. His left leg hangs over the bed, exposed to the chill in the air, on purpose. He knows if he stops searching that he’ll sink, as if through quicksand. And the thought of what he must do is far less terrifying than the thought of what awaits him if he sank to the bottom.

In sleep he grasps the fabric of his sheets with tight fingers. His head shakes from side to side, neck straining and veins standing in attention. As always his dreams are fraught with slivers - of images and memories and premonitions, or what feels like them. Sometimes he remembers them when he wakes. Other times they fade in the light of the morning.

But always he remembers the white rabbit.

At times it’s a real animal made of fur and softness that dances around his feet in his slumber. Or he becomes one himself, when he stares in the bathroom mirror after long nights of sleep deprivation; when his teeth grow and his nose wrinkles and he imagines his ears lengthening to become animalistic. 

It’s important, and he knows it in his bones. But finding the murderer has dominated his mind and always he rolls his shoulders and casts off thoughts of the rabbit. It lives in the world of his mind and he doesn’t have time to wander into dreams.

A discordant beeping pulls him from the fitful sleep and he sighs. Tossing off the blankets he rolls to the side. The damp white shirt clings to his frame and his bare feet hit the hardwood floor. Jungkook runs both hands through his hair, pushing the dark strands away from his vision, tucking them behind his metal-filled ears. Rising, he gets to work.

Once upon a time he and his brother had work stations opposite each other. Computers pressed almost back-to-back to form one technological beast. Since he was seventeen he’s gone by K00KIE and after a few bumbling attempts he managed to find his stride as a hacker. Like learning a foreign language he stuttered and reached blindly for what he didn’t know for weeks before the words came naturally to his tongue. Now the internet has opened itself before him like a book held in his hands and reading is his chiefest joy.

His brother was everything Jungkook is not, and he exists now like the sun does to the moon on long nights, haunting Jungkook like a phantom limb. Less than a year separated them and they were far more like twins than just brothers. Jihoon was indeed almost brighter than the sun itself. Loud and free and unrestrained. He led them both into this world and now, left behind to pick up the pieces, Jungkook vows he’ll get them both out of it.

He stands, pressing his hands on his knees for leverage. The walk to his desk chair is only a few steps but it feels like he walked a mile. In the weeks since Jihoon’s murder he hasn’t had the energy to exercise. Or shower very often. Or even eat. Grief hangs around him like a shroud and with glassy eyes he takes in his workspace.

Jungkook lets his lids close again, dragged down by exhaustion, and he sees Jihoon sitting at his desk with a lollipop skicking from his mouth, speaking with animated hands about the program they made. How it would change the world. The cowlick of hair on his right side that always stuck up at an odd angle, and his eyes that crinkled whenever he was excited about something.

That world is full of bright color and when Jungkook opens his eyes, slowly, reluctantly, his apartment is awash in grey. Jihoon’s desk is empty. Every space is filled with piles of paper full of Jungkook’s messy writing, scrawled on every available notebook and receipt, surrounded by empty take out containers and chopsticks and energy drink cans and the stupid fucking plastic bags his grocery delivery services uses instead of paper ones.

Again his phone beeps, signalling more and more messages from his friends. A few he knows in real life, but most he only knows online. People who started out as words on a screen or lines of code traded back and forth but became the ones who know him best. They know he hurts and are trying to reach across through the digital world to catch him as he falls.

Kook, where are you? Talk to us.

Is there anything we can do? We’re here for you

If you want help, you only have to ask. To heal or… to make them pay.

Maybe he’ll let them, once it’s done. It’s a dangerous rabbit hole to walk down alone, but he won’t risk anyone else. He can’t.

None of his friends knew what he and Jihoon were working on. It was too secret for either of them to discuss online, where anyone could be listening. But in this community death means one of two things - either the government found you, or the competition. Jihoon didn’t fuck with the government, everyone knew that, which left only one option.

After he finds his brother’s killer or - fuck, killers? - perhaps he’ll be who he almost was again. Someone young and alive with the world at his feet. He could get a new apartment with a view of the park his brother loved, full of old brick columns surrounded by ivy and a sprawling network of paved pathways to walk. He could marathon anime and order from that Chinese restaurant he loves and play Tekken and create games and programs with his friends. It’s so close and yet so far from possible. 

He turns his hands so his palms face skyward and gasps in a breath with how badly he wants to be freed from this. The pain and the hollow feeling in his gut and the insatiable urge to undo bloodshed with more blood spilled.

Could he do it? He wonders to his empty apartment, the darkness only lit by the glow from his computer screen. He doesn’t know what he’ll have to do, but whatever price is asked of him, he’s willing to pay.

His brother built a program that was too dangerous to be allowed and Jungkook helped him. Jihoon must have said something, anything, to the wrong people. The reckless joy that carried him through the world must have been exposed and then they came and sank their teeth into him devoured his brother whole. Jungkook helped him build the damn thing. It should have been me. It should have been anyone, anywhere else, but Jihoon. 

Jungkook was down at the Seven-Eleven, getting slurpees. And when he came back, his brother was dead.

It can’t have been more than fifteen minutes but already his brother’s body was starting to cool, despite the warm blood that ran over Jungkook’s hands as he tried to stop the bleeding. He found his phone with a slick, wet hand, the one not pressing against the wound in Jihoon’s chest, and called for help. 

It was too late - his brother died in his arms and the people who did it left no trace, not a scrap of a clue about their identity. The security cameras were disabled remotely. The hard drives were taken by with gloved hands, no fingerprints. In the aching days after it happened he went looking - in the back ups, and the back ups of the back ups he forced his brother to make. Always the careful one. But everything was gone. Like sand between his outstretched hands there was nothing left for him to hold.

Jungkook has a rage in him that would terrify him if he wasn’t too numb to feel. He pops the top of the Monster energy drink and downs half of it in three swallows. It’s warm and the flavor is atrocious, but it gets the job done. Ages ago he would have listened to music while he coded and while his brother dreamed of things that hadn’t yet been created. Now he sits in silence and his world is reduced to the muffled clacking of his fingers as they race across the keyboard, echoing around the now bare beige walls.

He should let people in and he should let his friends help. They’re good, many of them might even be better than Jungkook himself at tracking the bastards that did this. But letting them in is like breathing underwater. If he gasps in air he’ll also inhale water and drown. After it’s done, he vows to try. But not until then.

“Follow the white rabbit, little brother.”

The words are an echo in his mind, pinging around the lonely apartment and so clear it’s as though Jihoon whispered it in his ear. Jungkook turns, shaken and startled. He needs to get himself together. The days and weeks are blurring together and only the readout on his unused but still charged cell phone tells him where he is in the passage of time. 

Sixteen days, four hours, and twenty three minutes since his world changed.

He shrugs off the strange suggestion, as always. Now more than ever he doesn’t think he should listen to what the dead ask.

Instead he picks up where he left off yesterday - or, no. It’s just after eleven at night according to his phone. He picks up where he left off this afternoon, when he finally gave into his brain’s pleas to sleep. The trail dead-ended in all the obvious places he looked. The message boards and chat rooms his brother frequented. Anyone who even whispered about ideas related to the program his brother envisioned. Rivalries and competitive streaks are a dime a dozen in his community, but every time he feels like he might have some goddamned clue it goes up in smoke.

Hours of digging tonight and he somehow strikes gold. At first he assumes it’s a hallucination or a wish so strong he’s made his imagination tangible. But it’s right there in black and white on his screen. In a buried chat room so far off the beaten path he can’t see daylight anymore - he finds a conversation. Someone describing a program and another anonymous name offering to buy at any price. It was shut down almost immediately after it was posted, eighteen days ago.

If he wasn’t already known as Kookie he might have listened to Jihoon and gone by the nickname ghost. If there’s any memory of something happening on the dark web, Jungkook can find it, and tonight he’s scented blood. Tonight he’s not a rabbit but a predator himself.

It’s only a breadcrumb, a fishing lure dangling in the water, but he grasps it between his teeth. Jungkook was always good, almost the best. Now full of desperation and reckless energy, he’s unstoppable. He pulls on the line and it unravels before him, drawing the unsuspecting fisherman into the depths where Jungkook waits. First an IP address and then he finds a text message log and then a name and before he knows it, he’s found them. Or at least where they were three days ago.

Triumph is delicious in his mouth, but it also has the same rank taste as the lingering energy drink. Jungkook blinks and rubs at his eyes. He stands and tests the cans around his keyboard for any that are full. All empty. He curses and moves to the kitchen. Opening the fridge he’s greeted by emptiness. His stomach tightens and growls, reminding him it’s been far too long since he had real food.

A plan forms in his mind, but first - he stops to smell the shirt he wears and winces - he needs a shower. And food. So much food. Enough to see him through to the end of this.

The bathroom, much like the whole apartment, is full of reminders. Razors and toothbrushes and hair gel that has no owner anymore. Jungkook avoids the mirror. He doesn’t need to see the dark stains of purple beneath his eyes or the way his skin has pulled taut over his jaw, turning it sharper than ever before. It’s bright as he pulls back the shower curtain, morning light streaming in through the window while he turns on the water.

He strips and stands naked on the plush blue bath mat. Steam fills the narrow space and hugs him. His brother used to sing in the shower, loudly, to wake up Jungkook when he’d sleep in. He breathes in the moist air and emotion clogs his throat. The urge to give in pulls at him and he reaches a hand to the porcelain sink to steady himself.

Soon.

It’s all he can promise himself and his brother’s memory. Soon he’ll get his revenge and then - well, he doesn’t know. The future used to be a wildly exciting prospect before him. It was never money or fame that thrilled him, but simply the feeling of being a part of something. Together with his brother they built a community and the world was at their feet. Now he feels unmoored, a boat that got pulled by the tide and can’t find its port again.

He’s always been soft, even in his darkness. Violence and aggression were saved for the gym or for Fortnite, not for the outside world. But now a monster has awoken in him and he can only sate it with the blood of the people who took his blood, his family, from the world. Should he get a gun? Finish this the way they started it? Or should he attack them online, eviscerate their lives with code and strokes of his mouse?

When he blinks his eyes are sluggish, and finally he moves, stepping forward into the spray of water. With a groan he leans against the black and white tile and savors the feeling of hot water caressing his shoulders and back. Jungkook runs strong fingers along his neck and massages the kinks out. He rubs sleep and exhaustion from his eyes and reluctantly washes his hair and body. Much that he wants to, he does not sink to the floor of the shower and condense into a ball.

He hates to wait, but he needs food and fresh air and a chance to think. And more importantly, he needs coffee.

The world outside his apartment assaults him with noise and movement and he curls his hands into fists in the pockets of his leather jacket while he walks. Drinking a deep breath the air cools his lungs. He knows the way to the diner in his sleep. It’s yellow and teal neon sign draws him in like a North Star. The familiar tinkling of the welcome bell alerts the waitress to his presence.

“Oh, it’s you Jungkook! I haven’t seen you in ages. I’ll be with you in just a minute, sweetheart.” She tells him with a wave and a wink. “Have a seat.”

He gives Pearl his usual tight-lipped awkward smile, even as he breathes a sigh of relief at her warm presence. Her dyed red hair and bold red lips are still going strong in her sixties, even at the early hour. She takes a couple’s order at a far table, her boisterous voice holding him the way a mother might.

Jungkook takes his favorite booth - the two-seater in the corner with the view of the river. He wraps his arms tight around his chest and sits straight in the seat, feeling rigid and off putting in the warm, cozy space. But slowly the smell of bacon and coffee and the cushion at the back of the chair pull him in. Sagging, he releases his hands to grip the empty mug between his palms.

He starts to compose a plan. Something he can do today, quickly before they escape. But then Pearl comes over and fills his cup with coffee. She slips a piece of paper onto the edge of the table, face down, like normal. Jungkook stutters and reaches for it as she bustles away towards the kitchen.

“Pearl, wait-” he chokes on the word, throat scratchy. How long has it been since he last spoke out loud? She turns and cocks a hip onto the side of the waitress stand, waiting for him to continue. “I haven’t ordered yet.” His voice is small and unsure. He notices the items listed and total at the bottom and his brow furrows. “And there’s a zero dollar total.”

She smirks and looks at him through her lashes with trademark sass. “Sweetie, you’ve ordered the same thing for years. I know you. And I also know about your brother. I saw it in the papers.” Her expression turns sad, eyes widening. “A robbery in our neighborhood? I can’t imagine. It’s so awful.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I refuse to let you pay today.”

A smile tugs at him. “And the next time?”

The waitress snorts and waves a hand, giving him a lopsided smile that manages to be both comforting and cheeky. “Next time you owe me, darlin’.” She disappears around the corner and Jungkook laughs.

He tucks the slip into his pocket; a reminder that someone sees him. Cares about him. Remembers him. His phone weighs heavily in his jacket pocket. The notification tone is off now - not just because Pearl hates cell phones but because he’s not quite ready yet - though he knows there’s dozens of messages still waiting for him. Lifelines he could grab onto if he wanted.

The coffee warms his hands and he allows himself to look up. Through the windows he watches the river, winding its way through the center of the town and reflecting the sunlight. Movement to his right catches his eye, finding something else the sun loves two tables away - you.

Abruptly he thinks back to watching The Wizard of Oz with his family as a child. How Dorothy emerged from a grey world into full color and how it took his breath away. You rest your chin on your hand and yawn. Books are spread around you on the table. Piles of notes and stacks of plates that let him know you also haven’t slept in a while. He feels something stir inside him, long dormant. Curiosity, blooming in his veins like spring buds after a long winter of snow and frost.

He watches the fall of your hair across your forehead as you shake your head slightly, trying to stay awake. He imagines running his hand through it, feeling the soft strands. The world is hazy after so many days of insufficient sleep and you look like a dream to him. A slight flush has come to your cheeks and he wonders if it’s from the old heating unit mounted to the ceiling that’s been stuck at full blast ever since he’s come here. Or from the fleece-lined denim jacket and blue fingerless gloves you wear. Still, after what looks like hours in the warm diner.

He wonders if your studies consume your mind the way hacking has come to dominate his. From this angle he can’t see the subject or content of any of the books, but he can see your handwriting. Both precise and delicate, it fills the pages in neat lines. The world tilts as he leans up, calves and thighs flexing to get a better view, and he imagines tipping over the edge of a pool and falling into you. Like a parched man looks for water he feels drawn to you with an intensity he doesn’t understand.

He’s already been inside the diner for a few minutes, but he knows there’s still time. You haven’t looked up. You haven’t noticed him yet. He could stand now, and go. Taking his broken, jagged spirit and shattered heart and leave you in peace. Maybe today seeing Pearl is enough and maybe her voice will carry him through what he must do. He fumbles for his wallet to leave her a few dollars in tip before she can come back with his food.

But then you look up, drawn by the noise of his wallet chain scraping the wood chair. Your eyes lit by the morning sun hold nothing but innocence and kindness and he knows he can’t leave now. For a moment he imagines he could wipe his slate clean and be someone pure and good once more. Or maybe if he can’t be un-tainted by the stain of violence and death on his life, perhaps holding someone like you and kissing hope is more than enough.

He’s staring and he knows it, and so do you. With a subtle tilt of your head against your hand you smile sleepily at him. He knows you’re similar to him without ever talking to you. He knows you stay up too late and that your nights are consumed by the hunger within you. In a normal conversation he’d ask your name or perhaps buy you some coffee. But his world has been sharpened to a knife’s edge and he doesn’t have flirtation or standard social customs at his disposal. Instead, he skips the formality.

“What are you studying?”

With a smirk you reach for the book closest to you, holding it up so he can see the cover. Elementary Calculus. “I’m battling it out with some derivatives.” You sigh and rest the book back on the tabletop, holding his gaze.

“Are you a math major?”

“No, computer science.” You watch him, eyes trailing over his tattooed knuckles that hold the cup. It might be the heat of the coffee or the rays of light but he imagines it’s your touch across his skin instead. “But I have to take the last of my damn math credits to graduate. Just calculus between me and my dreams.”

He could offer to help, but in truth he was terrible at math in school. Jungkook found his way into hacking through a back door, not any formal study. “Computer science, huh? What are you hoping to do for work?”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips fighting a smile, as though you’re debating whether to trust him. To let him in. He’s nervous for the first time in ages. Pulse racing and stomach jittery with some bright feeling he can’t properly name.

After a long moment you slide out of the booth and stand. Not to leave but to close the distance and pull out the chair opposite him. You lean in towards him and he smells a hint of the scent you wear or maybe it’s your shampoo. “I have no idea what I want to do yet. Something good, hopefully.”

In a wave of lovable sass Pearl brings over his breakfast, forcing the two of you to move back. He hadn’t noticed how much he’d leaned in towards you as well. “My two favorite night owls finally meet,” Pearl says with a click of her tongue. “It’s gonna be a good day, honeys.” She walks off with a hum and the trademark bounce in her step.

You blush and look down at your hands, rubbing your thumb over the palm of your free hand. His mind is always full of questions, insatiable in his hunt for knowledge and creation. Today he wants to know everything about you. Where you go to school and how you got interested in computers. What your favorite movies are and if you’re from this city or if you moved here and what you might taste like if he’s lucky enough to kiss you, some day.

It’s easier to ask than to share, he’s found. A socially acceptable smoke screen to hide behind that conceals his nervousness when talking about himself. Without his boisterous brother beside him he feels both more mature, standing on his own, and younger. More vulnerable. To do this, to do life, alone now.

“What about you?” Your words break through his distracted mind with the soft lilt of your question.

“Oh, I’m not in school any more.” 

You nod and reach back for your abandoned coffee on your table. The movement makes your jacket and your shirt ride up slightly and he sees a sliver of exposed skin along your side. Forget how long it’s been since he spoke, how long has it been since he touched someone, he wonders. Or was touched? He would normally keep desire locked inside but here in the daylight after what feels like an endless night he can’t remember how to behave properly anymore. All he wants to do is touch you, and to hear your sweet voice leading him to a kinder, more gentler world he’d forgotten existed.

“Figured it was a fifty-fifty shot since we look about the same age,” you answer, now returned to starting at him while you blow on your coffee. “So what do you do, then? I can’t imagine not having my head full of school and homework right now. Please tell me about the outside world.” You sigh dramatically.

It feels almost forbidden to speak the words aloud. To tell you about the world he and his friends live in that’s made of wires and binary in two dimensions. But it’s the truth, and he’s tired of keeping it to himself. “I work with computers too, I suppose. I do mostly programming and some… other things online.”

You raise a brow at him. “Like porn?” Jungkook’s mouth drops open, his fork paused midair and a laugh caught in his throat. Quickly you wave a hand in the air, unable to contain your own laugh. “Sorry, that’s a terrible joke. I just -” you groan and run the hand over your face. “My mother always says I choose the worst possible times to be inappropriate. But you’re cute and I’m sleepy and couldn’t help it.”

After a beat you drop your hand back to the table and look up at him. His chest is warm and other parts of him are coming to life that he hasn’t thought about in ages. Like Rip Van Winkle he feels as though he’s been asleep for years and didn’t know it. He does his best to contain his expression but if your playful smile is any indication then he knows the way he’s feeling is broadcast all over his face.

He sees you as a lifeline. A portal, like from one of his favorite video games, leading him somewhere better. There will be time later to figure out if the connection is real and not just him taking the first hand extended to him. Once you’ve both had a night’s sleep and see things more clearly. But right now he says the only thing that makes sense. The only question he can manage.

“Would you like to go out with me?” He knows he should be smoother or have whatever ‘game’ is, that his brother always talked about having. But this is what he has and he hopes it’s enough.

You look him up and down as he chews a bite of bacon. To a less caring eye someone might dismiss him because of the dark circles and the tattoos and the haunted look he sees in his face these days. But maybe you see everything he likes and everything he hates about himself from a far more charitable point of view. Maybe you’ll be nicer to him than he’s allowed himself to be lately.

“That would be great,” you answer softly, sipping your coffee. “How’s now for you?”

He blinks. “Now?”

“Well, after you finish your breakfast I mean.” Turning, you casually wave at Pearl and she lifts a finger to say she’ll be there in a moment. “I should get some pancakes myself, first.” With a shake of your head you gesture to the books. “I think I’ve earned some after an all-nighter with the devil, aka calculus.”

Jungkook nods, biting his lip to keep from grinning. “Sounds good to me.”

Pearl eventually brings you pancakes, blueberry with the fancy whipped cream she likes to keep in stock. She brings him another serving of food as well and waves him off when he tries to pay. As his belly grows fuller and the two of you talk about your favorite old school computer games he realizes it’s been over an hour since he thought of his brother. While you gather your books into your backpack he pauses, wondering if that’s a good thing.

Then you lift your hand to scratch an itch and that’s when he sees the tattoo. The gentle black outline on your neck, behind your ear; the white and pink ink. Faded a bit, not fresh. The small animal with big ears is a thunderbolt and he stops, then smiles. He holds open the door for you and tilts his head back up to the bright, cloudless sky and does something he hasn’t done fully in almost three weeks - he laughs.

Later today Jungkook will share what he knows. With his friends he trusts. Perhaps with you as well, in time. But for now he has walk to take with you along a river, and it’s shaping up to be a gorgeous day.

Follow the white rabbit, little brother. And finally, at last, he listens.

[djsinquarantine]

Tech House Taco Tuesday with Abco, By Team Awesome

Description: https://www.twitch.tv/abcomusic This stream was live on June 16th, 2020 at 5pm EST. During our study, viewership peaked at 232 and remained steady at around 200 for the majority of the stream. The description and the bots in the chat shared a lot of info about Abco and ways to support her including: some of her merch, her soundcloud page (https://soundcloud.com/abcomusic), her spotify playlist, (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4tGqb8UqquHUQOePHQSf7N?si=ct6lP73ZSTuD2uKxYBlqFA) and an encouragement to reach out to Twitch in order to help Abco get a partnership with Twitch. In this stream, all money raised through tips, subscriptions, gift subscriptions, bits and merch will be donated to the LGBTQ Freedom Fund, a bail fund for incarcerated Black LGBTQ people. Abco will be donating to a different Black-led organization every Tuesday for the next few weeks.  

Visual Experience: There was quite a bit happening visually with the stream: Abco was, for the most part, the central focus of the video stream on Twitch and emotes would float across the stream as she played. Video of her would sometimes cut to crazy colorful and geometric graphics that a number of viewers made positive note of. Frank asked Abco whether the visuals were tailored to the stream, and Abco mentioned that she had bought a pack of visual DJ loops and edited the color and shape of some of them, but has been reusing them in multiple streams. For most of the stream, the top left corner displayed chat messages in real-time while the top right was a dog cam and featured their dog laying on the dog bed suspended in a space of cool visuals. Occasionally, when someone would send a “bit emote” or would “cheer,” all paid Twitch-specific features, it would also display across the screen with the viewer’s display name. The very top right header was dedicated to the current time while the top left header displayed Abco’s social media links, all @abcomusic. Her camera angle looked down on her from above, so it allowed us to see her setup and equipment clearly, and it almost felt like being up in the booth with her.

Below the video stream on the Twitch page, there were links to leave a tip, follow Abco on various social media and to buy merch. The chat also had a lot going on visually: most people participated by sharing Twitch emotes. On Twitch, a selection of emotes are free to use, and for this stream, Twitch unlocked their pride emotes, which included heart flag designs for the various identities within the LGBTQ community, including the gay, lesbian, trans and bisexual pride flag emotes. There were also a number of exclusive subscriber-only emotes many users shared, including a rainbow discoball and emotes that looked like Abco’s dogs. Abco’s merchandise and branding is very much centered around her dogs, and it was quirky in an incredible likeable way. She also felt very relatable with her glass of red wine.

Sonic Experience: The stream was largely dedicated to Techno House mixes. Abco played her own original mixes of songs, most of them unrecognizable, save for one which chat participants mentioned used a Duran Duran sample. Other songs incorporated talking tracks. Overall, the music was high-energy dance music that drew influence from 80s synth pop, techno, 90s Eurodance and even R&B. The abco bot dropped links to Abco’s soundcloud where you can listen to her original mixes and well as her Spotify page. 

Soundcloud:https://soundcloud.com/abcomusic 

Spotify: https://spoti.fi/2VuXsxH

Technology: Unlike in past streams, Abco’s stream had a detailed list of the equipment in her DJ setup as well as the equipment used for the stream itself. The setup included: 

Pioneer DJ DDJ 1000 (CDJ controller / mixer)

2x XDJ-1000 MK2 (CDJs)

Audio Technica LP120 (Turntable)

Aiaiai DJ Preset TMA-2 Headphones

Macbook Air 2019

KRK Rokit5 (Speaker)

The equipment they used for streaming included a Powerspec gaming monitor, which Abco used to watch the comments, respond the questions, and thank users for donations / bits, a Canon EOS M200 which recorded the stream, a Logitech stream webcam to stream their dog and themselves on Zoom and the Scarlett 2i2 usb interface. Although the stream was mainly on Twitch, Abco used a number of other streaming platforms to share her work.

Social Experience: Holding the attention of a steady 180+ users, the chat was very active and fast-paced throughout the stream. This stream was very focused on raising money for the LGBTQ freedom fund, a bail fund for black LGBTQ incarcerated people. Because of this, it can be reasoned that the stream viewers were members of the LGBT community or allies. Chat participants were very interested in the music and the genres of music that Abco likes to play. In the middle of a flurry of comments about loving a particular track, one user asked Abco about her favorite genre to play during evening sets. To further enhance the social experience, Abco had a monitor so they could keep track of the chat and responded to the user saying that she likes to play techno house for evening sets, but during the daytime prefers to play piano-heavy 90s house music. People were also generally very respectful, welcoming and helpful to one another. One user noted in the chat that they were a first-timer on Twitch and didn’t know how to send bits, and other users instructed them until they figured it out. When Sarah posted in the chat about being a student and wanting to send out a survey, users were nice about her request and suggested she post in the Discord chat to reach a wider audience.

When Courtney first tried to enter the Zoom room, she had difficulty turning her video on even though her microphone was still working. She entered in and out of the room, and that fixed the issue. Some participants, although they made it clear that they were relatively new to Zoom, offered to help her fix the issue and were really sympathetic to her having a little trouble. She found it very sweet. Oh yeah, the people in the Zoom room were also pretty drunk. At first, Courtney was shy, but she warmed up to them a bit after they started talking about home. We all started comparing drinks and shot glasses, while Courtney remarked about her Nalgene. One woman said she was “cute as f*ck” which was really flattering, and it was probably the best compliment ever. A few people were from Great Britain, so we talked about politics and explained the craziness that happened in our relative places. Our conclusion was, “Politicians are all muppets.”

Abco was connecting into the Zoom room and played the music from her stream into her microphone, so the audio was a little shaky from that perspective. Additionally, Courtney had trouble hearing people speak over her stream. At first, Courtney was kind of peeved by it, but then she realized that she usually has to talk over the music during in-person DJ sets anyway. She started to appreciate the memory of her at events with loud music in the past. Abco tells us in the chat how she can’t keep up with two chats and that’s why she hasn’t been active in the Zoom. Courtney saw how focused Abco was even though they generally give off a cool, relaxed vibe. All of us in the room understood how she was juggling multiple activities at once, and when she addressed us in a friendly way, it felt like we were in the VIP section of a club in a select room.

Frank also spent a few minutes in the Zoom call early on in the stream--although he didn’t turn on his mic or video as he was eating and thought it might be weird. He also found the people in the Zoom room to be very very nice and helpful, yet also funny and playful. When he first shared the link to the Google Doc survey, one user by the name of Fexcab said he would only fill out the survey if Frank shared his instagram handle so he could know what Frank looked like. Another individual in the Zoom room by the name of DJ Smark (who I believe was also a mod in the Twitch stream) would go on to encourage Frank to also share the survey in Abco’s Discord server as it was much bigger. He then gave Frank access to the Discord server. Sarah would end up beating Frank to sharing the survey on the Discord server, though. Users did many fun things including dancing to the music, showing themselves rolling around on roller skates (which Abco would go on to mention on her stream), showing themselves baking, and putting on funny hats. It was Frank’s first experience in a breakout Zoom room where the users turned on their mics to talk to one another.

Outside the Zoom room, the Twitch chat and the stream itself were fairly focused on the dogs--in some ways, the event seemed more focused on the dogs than Abco, at least to Frank. The stream employed the viewership points system that Twitch offers. In this system, viewers are awarded points for watching and engaging in the stream in exchange for certain prizes. In this case, prizes included making the dogcam the center of attention for the stream (4,000 points), getting Abco to give the dogs a treat (2,500 points), and getting Abco to pet the dogs (2,000 points). An interesting pattern in the chat was the strong support for the LGBTQIA+ community that primarily manifested itself in the spamming of pride emotes. This is likely largely due to the fact that Abco said that all of the proceeds from this particular stream would be donated to the LGBTQ Freedom Fund. Abco was certainly a significant catalyst for the chat’s high activity as well. She would regularly answer questions posted in the chat, and even share short anecdotes and opinions regarding topics that were brought up. For instance, at one point she talked about wanting to be a roller skating rink dj when she was younger and at another point she shared how she was drinking wine and asked if anyone else was as well.

Liveness: One aspect of the stream that Sarah felt brought about an aura of liveness was Abco’s interaction with the chat feed. Instead of there being a disconnect in the stream between DJ and viewer, Abco was able to re-create the two-way interaction that you would find in a live performance. 

Courtney arrived later to the stream than Sarah and Frank, and she thinks that could have affected her sense of liveness. Although she felt socially engaged in the Zoom room and the chat, she believed her focus on gathering information removed her from the experience of being live this time around. It’s a rookie mistake! 

Perhaps one aspect of the stream that especially added to its liveness is the dynamic and multi-layered social atmosphere and audience interaction. In particular, the Zoom room participants talking amongst themselves, and the audience having the ability to alter certain aspects of the stream through Twitch’s point system are experiences inherently tied to the stream’s present that reproductions (such as a recording) would fail to capture. 

Individual Research Questions: Looking at Abco’s previous broadcasts, Courtney noticed that she wore a FEMME HOUSE t-shirt, which is an organization that LP Giobbi (a DJ that Courtney also listened to this week) founded to amplify the voices of women and non-binary DJs in the electronic music scene. Abco also played for Mesh Fest this past Saturday, a stream put on by Club Mesh, a female producer/DJ trio that are also closely tied to FEMME HOUSE. Courtney wanted to attend this stream but eventually was not able to. It’s interesting to see the connections in the community, especially when women are uplifting each other rather than putting each other down. This relates to Courtney’s inquiry about DIY culture – these women are giving themselves a voice through their online engagement, and this has allowed their message to reach new audiences.

There weren’t too many connections to Frank’s research questions in this stream: there weren’t any cases of people being rude or trolling in the chat that I noticed, and the music didn’t seem to have a noteworthy connection to the stream’s liveness. I suppose I can mention that that last fact might be noteworthy in itself. This might mean that, for some streams, users might show up because of the music but stay for the social atmosphere. In this particular stream, the Zoom room, the emotes, the dogs, and Abco’s interactions with chat messages and Zoom room participants may have been entertaining enough within themselves to make the music much less of a focus for the stream and audience. 

This stream ties to the questions I had about livestreams and community organizing. In this instance, there is a great deal of momentum surrounding the BLM movement, and in the middle of pride month, LGBTQ people and allies are supporting the Black LGBTQ community, including in this stream. Abco pledged to donate all money from tips, subscriptions, bits and merch to a different Black-led organization every Tuesday for the duration of Pride month and this week, it focused on a bail fund for incarcerated Black LGBTQ individuals. Abco’s Tech House Taco Tuesday is one of many streams we have encountered over the last two weeks pledging funds to a Black-led organization, specifically to a bail fund, indicating the widespread support for an end to mass-incarceration and policing.

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