#oh nicky...... DO not give this man access to your phone

[velvetineblue]

"If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to call 911." ( lol )

" why? so they can make it worse? "

" no thanks man; you made the mistake of giving me your number, and now I'm gonna use it. " and abuse it. " you're my on-call doctor from now on. "

[parkers-gal]

can u do one where is ag!reader’s birthday party and there’s a lot of celebrities there (like rihanna, beyonce, kylie, doja, megan...) and she introduce tom and the boys too to them? i love your writing 🥺💙

aww🥺

this sucks but i tried lol

wc: 1.8k

—

“C’mon, babes!” You pull him into your side. “It’ll be so much fun! And besides, you’re a social butterfly. You’ll fit right in,” you smile with some extra pep, and Tom laughs in response, finally nodding in agreement.

“Alright. But don’t touch your present until it’s time.” “I won’t!” You squeal. “That was one time!”

“One time too many!”

“Fine, fine,” you stand up. “C’mon, take a shower with me.”

Tom raises a brow, “Oh?”

“It’s my birthday,” you smirk, “I can have whatever I want.”

“That indeed, darling,” he’s pulled up by your arms, and the two of you go off to get ready for the party in just a few hours.

Finally, forty minutes later, you’ve dressed and prepared to drive down to the country club you’ve rented out for the party. You don’t normally make such a big deal about your birthday, but because of the success of your recent album, you know everyone would want to rejoice after all the time in quarantine.

Applying your last bit of lip liner, Tom comes strolling in while adjusting his Rolex watch. He reaches for the comb sitting in the top drawer, and you admire how sensual he looks getting ready.

“See something you like, love?”

“Ah ah ah,” You stop him. “I get free access to gawk over your hands. Today is shame-free, baby,” You do the rock ‘n’ roll sign for dramatics, and Tom teasingly rolls his eyes.

“Okay, go sit in the car, love. I need to get your present into the trunk while you aren’t eyeing my hands.”

“Yeah yeah,” You wave him off, and as you leave the bathroom, Tom playfully slaps your ass, sparking a giggle from you.

Afterward, when you finally do arrive, your mom and close friends/choreographers have already made sure the setup was complete. The first few guests to arrive are your closest confidants: Victoria Monet, Tommy Brown, Scootie and Mikey, Tayla Parx, and Courtney Chipolone.

“You look good, girl!” Victoria greets you with a soft hug, her highlight accentuating the beautiful shades of her skin.

“You too!” you reciprocate her excitement.

“And happy birthday,” she holds you at arm’s length before turning to Tom. “Treating the birthday girl well?”

“Of course, of course,” he clasps his hands together and smiles so wide that his eye crinkles show. You smile at that, hand going to the small of his back to pull him closer.

More people arrive, and soon enough the hall is packed and you’ve lost Tom in a crowd of familiar faces. You see him sitting at the bar, engaging in conversation with his brother Sam and Scott, your choreographer. Deciding to make your way over to him, you’re halfway through the bunch of the crowd when Abel stops you to catch up.

“Oh-! Can I be right back?”

He nods with a smile, sipping his cocktail and letting you run off again. Quickly, you make your way to the barstool that seats Tom.

“Hey love,” he greets.

“Hi, baby,” You curl into his side, waving gently to the boys sitting beside him. “C’mon, I want you to meet some people.”

“Welp,” Tom stands, “That’s my cue.” The three of them share a laugh and then he’s linking his hand with yours and letting you take the lead.

“You know The Weeknd, right?”

“What?” Tom stops, and because his hand is linked with yours it stops you too. “No, love, that’s- I’m- you can’t introduce me to him!”

“Why not?” You giggle. “He’s just a person.”

“Yeah, and extremely talented and successful person who my brother happens to obsess over.” You roll your eyes teasingly while beginning to pull him along again. “You’ll be fine, you big baby. Besides, he’s always wanted to meet you.”

“Alright,” he mumbles, still nervous but trusting you. Before long, he’s standing in front of the “After Hours,” singer, shaking his hand and engrossing himself in easy conversation. It flows so well that Tom almost doesn’t remember being nervous to meet him.

“I’m gonna get a refill,” He excuses himself. “It was great to catch up, Y/N/N. And nice meeting you, Tom,” he pats Tom’s shoulder as the two of you wave him goodbye.

Tom lets out a heavy breath, one of relief and pure excitement from having just met another big-time celebrity.

“Look at you, big guy,” you tease, tapping his shoulders in a taunting manner. Tom rolls his eyes and chuckles, catching your hands with his and pulling you to his chest for an almost kiss.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

“Make me.”

And he does — with his lips. When the two of you separate, you spot a group of girls in the corner and you immediately light up. Tom doesn’t have time to process what’s happening before you’re tugging him along to another side of the room.

“C’mon! There‘re more people I want you to meet!”

“Love! I’m not prepared!” he whisper-shouts. You ignore his pleas and enlargen the circle of familiar friends.

“Girlies!” they squeal as you greet them. “It’s good to see you all! There’s someone I wanna introduce you all to…” You pull Tom along, who’s a blushing, bashful mess of British and messy curls. “Tom, this is Doja, Megan, and Nicki.” You gesture to each one as you say their names. “Guys, this is Tom, my boyfriend.”

“The one you always talk about in the studio?”

“Oh, that one! In all your pictures! He’s the one on your lock screen, right?”

Nicki chuckles from behind her champagne glass, observing the encounter unravel.

“Is that so, darling?” Tom eyes you, and you groan dramatically. “Didn’t know you were so head over heels for me.”

“Oh… hush,” you sass him, and everyone laughs.

“A little birdie told me you had something to do with the makings of Positions…” Nicki teases.

You gasp, feigning shock. “I never should’ve told you that! Ugh,” You groan again, and everyone laughs at your flustered state. “I slipped up one time. One! Time!”

“Feel free to keep slipping up, then,” Tom teases. You lightly slap his upper chest and he giggles, pulling you in to steal another kiss.

“Y/N says you’ve just wrapped filming with Zendaya…?” Doja suggests, and Tom immediately lights up again.

“Oh, yeah! Spider-man three. Actually, I think Daya may be here.”

“She is,” You confirm. “She’s with Jacob and Harry by the pool table.”

“I’m gonna introduce myself,” Doja smiles slyly, and you and Tom share a laugh at her antics. Megan trails after her, champagne glass still in her hands.

“Don’t embarrass me!” She stops to speak to you one last time. “Oh, and happy birthday, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you, Tom,” she waves and Tom returns the gesture.

The two of you are left alone with Nicki, who’s speaking to a man that Tom guesses to be her boyfriend. You pull Tom along again, settling by the snack table to grab a few churros and pretzels.

“So? Whaddya think?”

“Megan had really nice nails,” He says through bites.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he smiles, though his mouth is stuffed. “Super pretty.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to tell her.”

Tom chuckles softly, sipping some bottled water. You watch the way his jawline accentuates and you have to force your eyes away from his soft skin and back to the cinnamon delight in your hands.

“Nicki is literally just like her songs. Like- she talks in the same way. It’s so funny.”

“Yeah,” you lick your lips, mindlessly giving Tom the rest of your churro while he hands you his half-empty water bottle. “She’s such an entertaining person. It’d be fun to get together with her one day.”

“Definitely,” Tom smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Who’s next?”

“I think Kylie and her sister are here.”

“Oh my god,” he swallows. “Is Stormi here?”

“Of course you’d ask that.” You roll your eyes, putting the bottle into the recycling bin and pulling Tom towards a gathering of couches and lounge chairs. When you spot her, Travis Scott is taking pictures for what you assume to be her Instagram. She’s dressed in a skin-tight dress and some elegant heels, and you make a mental note to compliment her later.

“Kylie!” You make yourself known. She lets out a soft “oh!” and stands immediately to hug you. Travis turns his phone off and shakes Tom’s hand while you talk with Kylie. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you! Happy birthday,” She smiles before turning to Tom.

“Hey. I’m Tom. Y/N’s-”

“Boyfriend,” She finishes, shaking his hand. “I’m Kylie.”

When you notice Travis making his way back over to the three of you, you see Stormi in his arms and from your peripheral vision, Tom is bouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Stormi, this is Tom. He wanted to meet you,” Travis whispers softly, setting her down on her feet. She gravitates towards Tom, and the two of them start talking rather passionately about something fun. You chuckle at them, but you can’t help admiring Tom for his skills with kids.

You talk with Kylie about the past few months, and after several minutes, you see Harry and Harrison making their way over to you and Tom.

“And who’s this little lady?” Harrison smiles when Stormi giggles, and he kneels to her level.

“Stormi,” She says softly. Both Harrison and Tom clap and praise the sweet girl for introducing herself all on her own. Tom takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs, and Stormi finds comfort on his left leg while playing with his right hand. They discuss which nail polish colors would be best with Tom’s look, and you indulge in Kylie’s newest beauty and skincare products.

Later on, you’re back at the snack table with Tom, and after sufficiently filling up, you offer another suggestion. “Up for meeting Madonna again?”

Tom’s eyes widen and he groans, shaking his head in panic. “No. Absolutely not. Not after what happened last time-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say between laughs, grabbing his hand to calm him down. You wrap your arms around his neck and link your hands, leaning against him in a slow-dance position. His hands find the skin of your waist in comfort. The moment doesn’t last long when you notice Tom’s brothers making their way over with a glint in their eyes — you know they want something.

“What do you divs want?” Tom asks, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Well…”

“We heard Nicki Minaj is here,” Harrison interrupts Sam.

“Would you introduce us?” Harry beams in hope. He looks almost nervous, albeit still excited, about asking. Whether that’s because you might say no, or because she’s one of his favorite artists, neither you nor Tom know.

Separating from Tom, you let out a deep and exasperated breath, smiling goodbye and unlinking your hand with his. “Here we go again!” You whisper while the boys pull you along in the direction of the Queen of Rap.

[jemej3m]

a really bad (good) blind date

OKAY - there will be other parts to this i promise

*

Andrew was exhausted.

There were many reasons for that fact: he was halfway through his final year of the police academy, his brother had been broken up with (again) and had moved back in to live with Andrew (again) and Nicky had set him up for an evening out with a man he didn’t know (again). 

It was the last time Andrew would put up with these sordid blind date fiascos. Nicky insisted that he didn’t want Andrew to be lonely around the holiday season, and that it’d be perfect timing to have a significant other on Valentine’s Day, and had been extremely resistant to Andrew’s refusals. 

This one would be the last. He’d get a good night’s rest over the winter break, ignore Nicky’s pestering and continue on with life as normal when the half-yearly examinations finally ended. 

He hadn’t even bothered changing out of the jeans and sweater he’d been ambling around the house in all morning, merely shaving and spritzing on cologne to give a false sense that he’d put effort in. 

He wish Nicky had let them meet up in a club. It was much easier to preface a one-night-stand with little talking, dancing and a glass of whisky. He usually wouldn’t even bother taking them home, seeing as he knew the staff access code to the lounge at Eden’s Twilight.

Instead, he shuffled in through the doors of a restaurant, where the lights were just low enough that hopefully this guy wouldn’t see the shadows under his eyes, the sallowness of his skin. Maybe Andrew should just be his usual, sullen self, end the date early and go home and sleep. 

The thought of dealing with Nicky’s blatant look of disappointment when he inevitably heard of Andrew’s less than amicable behaviour was worse than the idea of talking to a cute guy (Nicky’s taste wasn’t bad). A worser fate than death would be Betsy’s eventual involvement, if Nicky thought Andrew wasn’t being social enough. His first-therapist-adoptive-mother-saviour-figure had a monopoly on Andrew’s tolerance of others, whether he liked it or not.  

He took a table, not seeing anyone with the alleged red hair, blue eyes or leather satchel - Nicky said he never went anywhere without it. That had been odd enough to pique Andrew’s curiosity, but not really in a good way. 

He took his place at the table and busied himself with a menu, even though he’d already elected what he’d eat prior to arriving. The few moments to himself allowed him to centre himself, readying for whatever bullshit his cousin had signed him up for this time. 

He supposed that no amount of time would have allowed him to anticipate what he was dealt, as the man who he was to have dinner with collapsed into the chair opposite. His hair was wild, auburn curls and a freshly buzzed undercut matching expressive brows and awfully long lashes - of which framed the clearest blues Andrew had ever seen. His freckles were like constellations across his cheeks. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he managed, swinging the leather satchel across the back of the chair. His buttons were askew but he hadn’t seemed to notice. It allowed Andrew to see the flush that ran down his neck and the hint of a puckered scar on his collarbone. 

A gunshot wound. 

Interesting, he thought. 

“Should we order?” the man asked. 

“I’m Andrew,” he said, pointedly. 

“Oh, right,” he ducked his head with a grimace. “I’m - Neil.” 

Andrew shrugged. “You can have a few minutes, if you’d like.”

Neil didn’t need time. He must have come prepared, as Andrew had. He took note of a few things as they ordered - he was health-conscious, only having a salmon dish and salad - he didn’t drink, not even the lightest champagne the place had to offer - and that he had the most elegant fingers. For some strange reason, Andrew could envision him spinning Andrew’s knives deftly. 

“So,” Neil started, awkward. “What do normal people talk about on dates?”

Andrew arched an eyebrow. 

Neil cleared his throat. “That wasn’t a testament of you being - abnormal - I’ve just never done something like this before, a friend put me up to it - I mean, I’m sure you’re interesting -” 

“It’s alright,” Andrew cut in, because Neil was truly digging himself a sufficient grave. “You should tell me three things you’ve never told anyone.” 

Neil blinked. “Why?”

Andrew shrugged. “Why not? I’ll give you one: I’m afraid of heights.”

“Cockroaches,” Neil echoed, cocking his head to the side. “You’ve never told anyone you’re afraid of heights?”

“What use does that information have?”

“Why can I have it, then?”

Andrew wanted to hear more of this petulant, argumentative tone that Neil had gradually developed. “Must everything have a reason?”

“Of course not,” Neil tapped a lithe finger on the rim of his glass. “But most things - or people - do. That’s what they tell themselves, at least.”

“Profound,” Andrew acknowledged, tipping their glasses together. 

Neil wasn’t uninteresting. There was something underneath those ocean eyes.

Neil liked maths - he’d gone out of state to study for a few years, in Virginia - and cats and took the strawberry from Andrew’s dessert because he hated sweets but would eat fruit any day. He’d also clipped the lip of a waiter who’d expressed irritation that they asked for a split bill, finding the other waiter who’d served them to give the nicer girl a fiver tip. 

It was an odd balance, Andrew observed, between real facets of ‘Neil’ escaping and a formulated restraint, clearly years in the making. Andrew couldn’t believe how late it’d gotten by the time they’d left. Even the way Neil smoked was baffling, holding the light by his chin and looking out into the dimly lit street that stretched out before them. 

“How’d you get roped into this, anyway?” Neil inquired.

Andrew shrugged. “My cousin likes to mess with my life. How does Nicky know your friend, anyway?”

“I think they might’ve had an economics class together in college, and decided they shared a passion for exuberance and high-heels,” Neil chuckled, taking a slow drag. “Allison always said Nicky Nights were the most fun she’d ever had.”

“Allison,” Andrew considered. He wasn’t really familiar with the name. 

“I should probably be heading off,” Neil said, idly checking a watch. He wore a watch. It didn’t look cheap, either. “Have to deal with - family mess.” The way he said family mess had Andrew practically in stitches with intrigue. There was simply nothing simple about Neil, nothing Andrew could put together without time and patience. He simply nodded, watching cars drive past as Neil leant off the wall. 

He’d already written his number on the receipt: fingers hooked into Neil’s sleeve, he spun the young man around, just before he could waltz off to his nice car and drive on home. 

“Here,” he said offhandedly, ignoring the way his heart skipped and leaped. 

Neil took the number slowly, tucking it into his pocket. 

“I’m going to be a bit touch-and-go for a little while,” he said. “Family’s back in town and all. But I’ll text you,” he rolled his lips into his mouth as his cheeks went red. “I will text you.”

Andrew waved him off. “I don’t care what you do.”

Neil’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Okay. I’ll see you later, Andrew.”

Andrew watched as Neil walked away, arriving at a sleek black car that ought to be keyed in a city like Baltimore. Before he set off, he leaned into the passenger seat, rummaging for something. 

Just as Andrew was thinking I didn’t even get his last name, he noticed an odd glinting of something from within Neil’s car. Something reflecting the streetlight, almost into his eyes.

In the compartment of the door was a knife-handle, a cleaver blade attached. It was so carelessly thrown into the door shelf that it seemed to (still?) have a few mild specks of something red across its spine.

Andrew let his cigarette fall to the ground, shoving his hands into his pockets as Neil glanced over his shoulder to give Andrew another one of his little smiles, something Andrew wanted to hold and cherish in spite of the probable weapon left in the passenger seat’s door. As the car skidded away, Andrew remained utterly still, the amalgamation of emotions swirling within his usually void-like chest cavity. 

how was the date???????????? Nicky texted. 

bad, Andrew responded. Because - in spite of everything, the awkwardness, the lack of punctuality, the gunshot scar, the probably bloodied knife in his car - Andrew wanted to see him again. In spite of everything, it had been a good evening. 

oh well! Nicky sent back, with a cheerful smiley face and a bunch of needless xoxo’s. Andrew’s phone buzzed twice as another text came through - this time from an unknown number.

hi this is neil’s number - figured i would text at the traffic light before i lost this receipt :D

Fuck it, Andrew thought. 

*

hi neil. this is andrew.

*

tadaaaa

blind date!! also, neil, dont leave bloody cleavers in the passenger seat door, you dumbass 

[ladyvegeets]

Lethal Combination -03-

Bulma’s phone rang in its hands-free device. Vegeta glanced over, SON GOKU illuminated on the screen. He looked back out the window as Bulma put the call on speaker.

“Hey Son, what’s up? You find something already?”

“Unfortunately. A missing person that matches our DOA. Ryan Smith, only 17. I’ll text you the address of next-of-kin. Sorry to put you on condolence duty first day back.”

“Don’t sweat it, just part of the job.”

“Well, speaking of which, it really is great to have you back in the saddle, Bulma.”

She mumbled a hasty thanks and hung up. A glance out of the corner of his eye found her tugging on her sleeve as she drove, scowling out the windshield. 

A moment later her phone buzzed with Goku’s text. 

“Can you get that?” Since there was no one else in the car, Vegeta assumed she was talking to him. He plucked out the phone from its holder and tried to access her messages. On the lock-screen was a very fancy-looking custom-made motorbike, over which hovered a pin-pad. 

“It’s passcode protected.”

“314-159” 

He hoped for her sake that it was a throw-away passcode. What kind of idiot gave out their private information so readily? He pulled up her messages. There were a lot. Little Miss Popular. The second-most-recent message was from MOM saying Okay, see you tonight, sweetie! Good luck! The most recent was from SON GOKU with details on the victim and an address. There was also a photo. A young man, slim, short dark hair and eyes.

His heart beat skyrocketed. His palms broke out in a sweat. Something dark ballooned in his chest, making it hard to breathe, threatening to swamp him with emotions he struggled to suppress.

“Hello? Is there an address?!”

Bulma’s tone indicated that she’d needed to repeat herself. Vegeta got himself in check and read the address aloud.

“Punch it into the GPS, would you.” 

He tilted his head to look at her firmly over the rim of his sunglasses. Bulma glanced his way, a delicate brow arching up. 

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t know how to use a smartphone?”

“It’s not very smart if I have to do it myself,” he snarked back.

“Oh my GOD. What rock have you been living under that you can’t operate a smartphone?”

“The kind where I don’t allow corporations access to all my personal information.”

“Wow. You’re one of those.”

“One of what?”

“Never mind, I think I know where that neighborhood is.” She changed lanes and headed them towards their new destination. Annoyed by the exchange, Vegeta shoved her phone back into its holder, needing to make a few attempts before it snapped into place. Bulma gave him a withering side-eye but wisely made no comment.

~xox~

Several minutes (and a quick check on Maps) later, they pulled up to a modest residential house. 

“Let me take lead,” she suggested as they approached the door. Bulma wasn’t ready to trust Vegeta’s people skills just yet. He took off his shades and said nothing. She hoped that meant he agreed. 

She knocked on the door and barely a minute later a middle-aged woman who looked like she hadn’t slept in a week answered.

“Mrs. Smith?”

“Yes?”

“I’m detective Briefs and this is detective Saiyan—”

“Have you found Ryan?” the woman interrupted with desperation and reached for Bulma. Vegeta shifted instinctively, his hand going to his holster.

Bulma put herself between woman and partner before Vegeta shot the poor lady. “I think it’s best if we come inside.”

It was awful. It always was. There was never a nice way to relay the death of a loved one, especially a child to their parent. Mrs. Smith sobbed inconsolably for several minutes. There were already used tissues all over her coffee table. The poor thing had done little else but cry since her son had gone missing.

Bulma sat opposite the woman on her couch, patiently waiting out the tears and patting her hand when she could. Vegeta stood off in a corner of the living room, arms crossed, leaving the two women be.

When Mrs. Smith had calmed down enough to drink some water, Bulma began. “Mrs. Smith, I’m so terribly sorry to have to do this to you now, but I need to ask you some questions. Are you up for that?”

The woman nodded miserably, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

“When was the last time you heard from Ryan?”

“U-um… Yesterday morning,” Mrs Smith replied with fresh tears welling. “He went out to meet friends but never came home for dinner. He didn’t answer his phone when I called, and his friends said they hadn’t seen him either. I went to the police station right after that.”

“And you can’t think of any reason why he wouldn’t come home? Any problems or recent arguments?” Bulma inquired.

“No, nothing! He was a good boy.”

“Why aren’t you out looking for him?” Vegeta interjected. Bulma gave him a horrified look; it sounded far too much like an accusation for her liking. He ignored her, waiting pointedly for Mrs. Smith’s reply.

The woman’s eyes were huge as she looked at Vegeta. “The police told me to wait here in case he came back, o-or tried to contact the house,” she told him earnestly, barely choking back tears. “But Nicky has been out searching all night and day.”

“Who’s Nicky?”

“Nicholas, my eldest.” Mrs. Smith pointed to a photo on the fireplace mantle. Vegeta moved over and picked it up. “That’s Ryan on the left and Nicky on the right,” Mrs Smith explained before she started sobbing again.

Vegeta stepped over to show Bulma the picture. It was definitely the boy from the beach. The elder brother — Nicky — had a protective arm thrown around. 

“…They look very close,” she commented kindly.

Mrs. Smith nodded. “Ever since their father left, they’ve been inseparable.”

Bulma and Vegeta’s eyes met, sharing a mutual look. If the brothers were that close, maybe Nicky would be worth questioning.

“Your husband’s gone?” Vegeta asked without even attempting to soften his tone.

The woman nodded. “I haven’t heard from him in over a decade. Do you think he’s involved?”

Vegeta shrugged one shoulder. “Can’t rule it out. We’ll need his name and last known contact information. Where’s your son’s room?”

“Ryan’s? Um, down the hall, second door on the right.”

He left without another word. Bulma glared after him, making a mental note to chastise him about his bedside manner. She tried to smooth over her partner’s insensitivity by getting names, numbers, and addresses from Mrs. Smith that might help with their investigation.

Vegeta came back after a while, giving her a curt head-shake; he hadn’t found anything useful. Bulma finished up, leaving Mrs. Smith with the number for the station and her own cell. “Call me if you think of anything, no matter how silly. Often it’s the small details that lead to big break throughs in these cases.”

Mrs. Smith nodded and mumbled a wet thank you before she devolved back into tears. Bulma and Vegeta showed themselves out. 

As she opened the door to the car, Bulma glared over the roof at Vegeta. “Is that how you always handle grieving victims?”

He threw her a withering look. “You got a problem with how I work?”

“I do if you’re always going to be hostile when it’s not necessary.”

“Tch. That wasn’t hostile, that was me being reassuring.” He opened his door and got into the car. Irritated, she got in after him.

“Bullshit. How is interrogating a grieving mother reassuring?”

Vegeta met her gaze. “Not everyone needs to be mollycoddled. People grieving don’t want to hear how sorry you are. They want to know you’re going to tear everything apart to find their loved one’s murderer.”

Bulma’s mouth snapped shut, not having a witty come back to that. He kind of had a point. “Well, still… If you wound up dead, wouldn’t you like to know that someone was treating your family with compassion?”

“Wouldn’t know,” Vegeta replied in a flat voice, turning to stare out his window. “Don’t have one.”

She stared at the back of his head for longer than was polite, struggling to think of something appropriate to say. But the moment grew too long, and then it felt awkward to say anything at all. Finally she turned on the ignition and pulled the car back onto the road. Bulma made a mental note to hug her parents extra hard at dinner that night.

~xoXox~

AN: Anyone recognize Bulma’s passcode? In the words of TFS-Piccolo, “NEEEEEERD!”

[wematch]

Only You

In their second year a deal is made. Andrew wants to explore his boundaries and there’s really just one person he trusts around himself.

Set in a universe where everything is the same except that Andrew never kissed Neil on the rooftop that night. Instead, they just got closer and more comfortable around each other.

Read from the start if you haven’t yet! [Part 1]

You can also read it on [AO3]

As always a huge thank you to @velvetnoodle for being an amazing beta <3

Part 2

Neil walks out of the cafe and lets the door bang on its way out. He feels his cheeks start to flush when he glances at the free coffees he’s carrying. He tried to refuse but the guy insisted so he thanked him and rushed to get out. He mentally curses when he stops in front of Nicky and Matt and they immediately start laughing. “You should’ve seen the look on your face,” Nicky says once he calms down.

“Shut up,” Neil says glaring. “Can we just go now?” and shoves the coffee cup holder into Matt’s chest.

“Oh man, I can’t believe that he actually offered you the coffees,” Matt says looking at the coffee holder in awe.

They watched the whole thing happening from the window and Neil feels exposed, all this attention is unwelcome and he’s just tired of all of it so he starts pulling his sleeves down out of reflex.

“You know what we should do?” Nicky asks, grinning at Matt. “We should send him in there every day, imagine all the free stuff we could get!”

“No,” Neil says immediately; he has had enough of this. He grabs the coffee holder from Matt’s hands and starts to walk away.

Nicky and Matt stare at his back confused until it becomes clear where he’s headed. “Wait, what are you doing?” Matt says once he realizes that Neil is walking in the direction of the bin.

“Is he— Neil this was just a joke!” Nicky says pleading, “Don’t do it!”  

“Go get your damn coffee from now on,” Neil says looking at them pissed and drops the container into the trash.

“Such a waste of good coffee,” Matt whines still not quite believing what he just witnessed.

Neil turns and starts to walk away, ignoring them calling his name and sets a quick pace that quickly turns into him running in the direction of the Fox Tower.

Running feels good — it allows him to clear his head. Once he reaches the dorms he jogs the stairs up to the roof. His breathing is uneven when he reaches the rooftop access door, the cold air welcome against his skin but Neil still feels the urge to get out of the building and run until there’s nothing else to focus on and his legs give out. The frustration he’s feeling must be visible on his face because Andrew spares him one look and asks, “What happened now?”

“Now I know why your cousin and Matt find it hilarious to send me to the coffee shop and order their stuff while they wait by the door,” Neil says bitterly while he sits down.

Andrew clenches his fists before he answers. “The guy with the piercings?”

“Yeah,” Neil replies, not really surprised that Andrew had figured it out. Just a few days ago he had been there with Andrew and the others, but on that day the guy on the counter hadn’t given him anything and didn’t try to ask him personal information like he had done today.

“I’ll deal with it,” Andrew says after a moment.

“Okay, but you don’t have to beat up everyone who annoys me.”

“Hm that’s an interesting idea,” Andrew says tilting his head to the side. “But we made a deal, and I think I just need to make the message clear enough for him to back off.”

“Okay, then,” Neil says, he isn’t sure what Andrew has in mind and he isn’t entirely sure if this deal was a good idea to begin with but he doesn’t put much more thought into it, trusting Andrew to deal with it without his knives.

***

The next day, Neil finishes his classes and finds Andrew outside of his building waiting for him, and as soon as he spots Neil he turns around and begins to walk away. Neil is quick to follow and as soon as Andrew doesn’t turn to go to the parking lot and continues straight in the direction of the coffee shop Neil sighs loudly and follows along.

Andrew stops near the entrance, looks inside and seems satisfied with what he finds when he turns to look at Neil. “Why don’t you go in and order something?”

“Fine,” Neil says rolling his eyes and walks inside towards the counter.

“Hi there, what can I get you today?” the guy — the same one from yesterday with a name tag indicating that his name is Liam — asks him smiling.

“A black coffee,” Neil tells him as he sees in the corner of his eye Andrew entering the shop and casually stopping in front of the display window as if he was another customer deciding on what to order. It’s still unclear what Andrew has in mind so Neil remains where he is waiting for his coffee.

“Can I get you anything else?” Liam asks when he returns with the coffee.

“No, thanks,” Neil answers, but he notices Andrew eyeing the donuts and thinks he might as well order something for him too. “Wait, give me one of those chocolate donuts,” he says pointing to the display.

“Sure thing,” Liam replies and when he places the small package containing the donut in the counter he adds, “it’s on the house.”

“Uhm, thanks,” Neil says immediately beginning to feel uncomfortable. It’s the second time Liam’s offered him products and Neil has to wonder how this guy makes a decent profit at the end of the day if he doesn’t charge his customers.

“Oh, isn’t he nice, giving you gifts,” Andrew says glaring at the guy while stepping closer to Neil.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” The guy says, but his smile starts to falter once he sees the murderous expression that is starting to form on Andrew’s face.

“He’s not available, so you can just fuck off,” Andrew tells him with a menacing tone straight to the point.

Neil almost feels bad for the guy when he sees him wincing from Andrew’s tone. Almost. But Andrew kept his word, of course he did, he had told Neil he only needed to make the message clearer and that’s exactly what he just did. Neil quickly grabs his wallet and puts a note on the counter to pay for his order, knowing that it’s time to leave and Andrew grabs the package with the donut and the coffee with one hand, and with the other he grabs Neil sleeve to pull him towards the door.

Once they step out of the coffee shop Andrew lets go of his sleeve, and they begin to walk in the direction of the car side by side. Andrew starts eyeing the coffee before passing it to Neil. “Pathetic,” he says with a bored tone.

Neil, curious, looks at the container and notices the phone number written on it. “What--” he starts to ask about what it means but he remembers Allison mentioning passing phone numbers as one way to try to talk more with someone you were interested in and closes his mouth. Damn it; if Allison was here she would never let this go.

***

Like most nights, Neil silently follows Andrew to the rooftop when they get back from night practice with Kevin. Once he finishes climbing the stairs and opens the access door, he finds Andrew already lighting two cigarettes for them. Neil walks to his side and sits only an inch away from him and accepts the cigarette Andrew passes over.

When Andrew finishes his cigarette, he turns to Neil with a calculated expression and motions for Neil to take his hand from his pocket. Neil, confused, turns to the side and sits with his legs crossed to face Andrew and puts his hand in front of them. After a moment, Andrew grabs his wrist and stares at their hands.

“We don't have to do this,” Neil says, realizing what this is about.

“No, we don't,” Andrew agrees and squeezes his wrist.

“But you want to,” Neil concludes.

Andrew doesn’t bother giving him an answer; instead, he brings Neil’s hand near his face. He stops just an inch away from his hair. “I don’t think you realize what this means.”

“I think I do,” Neil says looking him in the eyes. He’s been thinking about it ever since they made their deal, and he keeps thinking about what Andrew told him months ago at Eden’s Twilight that turned his world upside down. At the time it was a lot to process but now, the urge to reach out and discover how Andrew would feel under his touch is there, has been there for a while now. He was never curious about these things before but somehow Andrew is different, he makes him want to discover, to explore this.

Andrew gives his hand one final squeeze and places it on his hair. “Just here,” he says and lets go.

Neil nods, and slowly moves his hand through his hair, noticing that it’s thinner and smoother than his own. Andrew stays still, watching Neil, and neither of them says anything. Neil pays close attention to Andrew’s reactions, and once he sees his shoulders relaxing Neil lets his hand slowly travel from his side to where his short hair ends by his neck.

Suddenly Andrew grabs his wrist again and Neil immediately stills as he waits for Andrew's next move, thinking that this was enough for today. So he can't help but be surprised when Andrew slightly brings his arm down, bringing Neil’s hand to his neck. He lets it rest there for a few moments, and Neil lets himself enjoy the feeling of Andrew’s warm skin under his own until Andrew, who had kept his hand on Neil’s wrist, pulls it away.

Andrew without a word turns back to stare at the campus, lits a cigarette and takes a long drag. Neil stares at his hand resting on his lap, unsure about what to do now. Then the wind blows the smoke into Neil’s face and he takes a deep breath letting the smell of smoke ground him. He closes his hand that just moments ago was touching Andrew and looks up at Andrew’s profile in front of him. He tries to fight the urge to grin when the realization that he liked being able to touch Andrew hits him, and that Andrew had really trusted him to do this. Neil still isn’t sure how this could help Andrew in any way, but if Andrew wanted this, he was fine with it.

[Part 3]

[nickireadstfc]

The King’s Men, Chapter 8 – Baby, Now We Got Bad Blood

In which Neil’s birthday surprise bloody sucks, I have opinions about the Terrapins’ naming choices, Matt is too good for this world, and the Twinyard’s first attempt at Actual Human Interaction doesn’t quite go as planned.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The King’s Men.

(This is a longass chapter and lots of shit happens, so this is a longass update. I’m sorry in advance.)

             Neil flipped his phone open to stare at the date. It was Friday, January 19th. “Neil Josten” was supposed to turn twenty on March 31st. Today Nathaniel Wesninski turned nineteen years old.

OH SHIT IT’S HIS BDAY!!! HAPPY BIRBDAY MY BOY!!!!!

And we almost made it in time as well! 12 days late, but still – happy late birthday, my dude.

Actual footage of my baking disaster ass making a cake for our birthday boy.

Sadly though, Neil doesn’t care much for his birthday, and because he tragically keeps his mouth shut about it for most of the chapter, neither can anyone else.

I love birthdays. How dare you deprive me of some good good festivity. This is a gosh darn shame, Josten.

             Neil knew he went to his classes, but he didn’t learn anything. He wrote down what his teachers said but didn’t absorb a single word.

In other news, when will Neil in uni stop being such a goddamn #MOOD.

Exam season is hitting me hard right now folks, and while I’m tryinfg to play catch-up on my notes this just feels like an unnecessary callout post to my lazy past self.

In other other news – it’s time for Orange Sportsball again!

Our Foxes are playing a home game against Belmonte which, if you’ll all kindly remember, resulted in The Most Epic Move Andrew Has Ever Pulled, Ever last time we played them.

So, you know, no pressure.

Before Neil can pop a boner about being on an actual game court again though, he has a little birthday surprise waiting for him, and it’s, well, how do I put this –

A bloody hell of a situation.

             It exploded in his locker, triggered by the door opening, and Neil recoiled as it cascaded over everything insde. (…) The bag looked big enough to hold at least two gallons; it was more than big enough to destroy every single piece of gear Neil owned.

WHAT THE FUCK.

For all y’all non-American folks, two gallons are about 7.5 litres. SEVEN POINT FIVE LITRES.

For further reference, that’s about as much as would fit in this bucket.

Yeah.

THAT’S A FUCKLOAD OF BLOOD.

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.

             Neil wrenched the broken bag off the hook. When he turned to throw it Andrew caught his wrist. Neil hadn’t even heard Andrew cross the room toward him. (…)

             “It’s ruined,” Neil said, voice ragged with an awful rage. “It’s all ruined.”

Yup – his entire gear, complete with helmet and shoes, now looks like it played a supporting role in the Red Wedding, and really took on some method-acting for it.

But we’re not done here, oh hot diggity shit no.

             Matt’s startled voice echoed off the bathroom walls. “What the hell?” (…)

             Written in blood across the tile was a bold message: “Happy 19th Birthday, Jr.”

OH SHIT.

OH SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

DAD’S HOME, FOLKS.

I am decidedly NOT FUCKING LIKING THIS.

I don’t even want to think about what this means.

If this is the Raven’s doing (which was what I thought about the blood), then that means they’re more in touch with Daddy Wesninski than we thought, which is super bad.

If this is Daddy Wesninski’s own doing, then he’s way more in touch with Getting Revenge On Neil than we thought, which is super super bad.

Either way –

(I also immediately regret calling Wesninski Senior ‘Daddy’. Please remind me to bleach my eyes at the next convenient time.)

             He grabbed the fledgling sense of panic and buried it deep, the same way he’d smothered his broken heart long enough to burn his mother’s body. He would have to react to this later, but if he did it now with all of the Foxes as his witnesses he was going to lose everything.

And bury it he does – Neil, that badass motherf*cker, just buries oh, y’know, the realization that his childhood abuser and indirect killer of his mother is figuratively right behind him,  somewhere in his brain and moves the fuck on.

What a dude.

             “Can you play?” Kevin asked.

             “I’m pissed off, not injured,” Neil snapped. “I’m not going to let this keep us from winning tonight. Are you?

GO GET EM, MY BOY.

WHAT A DUDE.

             “I will give you one chance tonight,” Wymack said. “If I think your head isn’t in the game, I will pull you so fast you’ll get whiplash.”

HSM basketball gifs will never not be appropriate for this team.

In the cleanup process of the Bloody Hell of a Situation, Matt steps out to grab some underwear for a half-naked Neil, and when he comes back he takes the opportunity to remind us all again what a genuinely great character he is – lest we forget.

             Neil opened the door just far enough to realize it was Matt in the hallway and was startled into saying, “You knocked?” (…)

             It wasn’t the first time the Foxes had gone out of their way to accommodate Neil#s privacy issues, but they usually had time to think it through. Matt was late for warm-ups because of Neil and shaken by Riko’s awful trick. Despite that he’d remembered not to barge in.

Matt, you sweet considerate spikey black Billie Joe Armstrong, LET ME LOVE YOU.

And now that Neil is all suited and booted (and had his anger horn tooted), let’s fucking go.

             The ghost of [the blood incident] egged him to go harder and faster. Kevin didn’t warn him to scale back, and they crashed into their backliner with an unusual aggression.

To the Foxes, what the fuck is unusual aggression?? Instantly fucking murdering a dude right there on the field?

“Unusual Agression” is pretty much those guys’ team motto, folks.

Unsurprisingly, our Foxy Sportsball Squad totally rules the following game, no biggie.

Nothing like a bit of blood, childhood trauma and accidental nudity to get fired up before a big game.

             Two minutes later, the Foxes got the chance they needed. A Terrapin striker got around Matt and raced at the goal. (…) Andrew was outside of his box in a heartbeat, and he body-checked the striker hard enough to floor him.

GET REKT.

Also, to remind y’all non-Native English speakers (like me) what a Terrapin is, it’s these cute lil fellas.

Not exactly a threatening opponent.

Not so much a fast one either. Who the fuck thought that naming choice was a good idea, like “yeah, sure, let’s call our skilled Sportsball team after fucking turtles”.

The Team of Poor Naming Choices gets what they deserve, in any case – the Foxes run right over them and celebrate an epic 8-5 victory.

             Wymack and Abby were waiting for them, Wymack with a toothy grin and Abby all smiles.

I love me some supportive Fox Parents.

However, the party is pretty much over instantly as the Foxes are back on their infighting bullshit.

             Allison (…) kept her eyes on Neil. “I’ve hit the limit of what bullshit I’ll tolerate this week, let alone this year. I need to know how much worse this pissing contest between you and Riko is going to get.”

Can we have literally….. 5 seconds of happy celebratory peace up in this bitch, thank you.

At least Wymack feels me.

             “I’m instigating a new rule where everyone is required to be happy after a win. You downers are going to suck the life out of me before my time.”

Thank you, my man.

Allison is kind of right, though – they do need to really fucking talk about this.

             “First off: the massacred elephant in the room. Massacred birds, rather. I called in a favour with the faculty and got Abby access to the microscopes in the science labs.”

Oh, that is morbid.

If that Bloody Hell of a Situation was the Ravens’ doing, then that is the most macabre symbolism I’ve seen in a while.

If it was Wesninski Sr’s – then I don’t want to think about the symbolism, quite frankly.

Which reminds me of an interesting point: Everyone is automatically assuming Riko did this. This makes sense considering almost no one knows of the existence of Neil’s dad, but Neil does not only seem to be playing along, but he seems to have the same opinion. The writing on the wall clearly said “Junior” – why isn’t he considering the fact that it could have just as well been his dad?

Obviously, don’t get me wrong here, knowing their power situation Riko/Tetsuji are still behind all of it and would know of what Neil’s dad is doing to Neil. But to me, this doesn’t sound like Riko’s style. Gallons of blood set up like a crude school prank and words written in blood – this sounds much more like a man who calls himself The Butcher than a rich sleek featherfucker.

Unsurprisingly, Neil isn’t exactly a fan of presenting his entire life story to his team. However, a certain someone who is still massively Salty™ at Neil for ratting him out to his girlfriend intervenes.

             “They’ll never find proof that Riko was involved in this,” Aaron said, “but they might find you, right? (…) Your looks, your languages, your lies – you’re running from something or someone.”

Ohhhhhhhhhh shit.

This is CALLOUT CULTURE.

While the team is busy collecting their jaws from the floor, Neil makes a weak attempt at sassing his way out of this situation.

             Keeping his voice calm took every ounce of energy he had left. “You know, I expected low blows and backstabbing from the Ravens. I thought Foxes were better than that.”

Don’t generalize, my dude.

Dan, Matt and Renee would never.

Neil then does worm his way out of this situation, though – by making a Bad Callout Situation a Worse Callout Situation, Like So Much Worse, Oh God.

             “I’m still waiting for a thank you,” Neil said. “From both of you, to each other. You’re even now, aren’t you? So why can’t you just wipe the slate clean and start over? (…) You don’t want me to be right, because if I am it’s your fault she’s dead.”

             Andrew finally joined the argument. “No. It’s always going to be her fault.”

Oh no, honey, please don–

             “I told her what would happen if she raised her hand again. She had no right to look so surprised.”

DID YOU JUST.

             Wymack pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled noisily. “Could you at least let us leave the room before you confess?”

Same, my dude.

Also hah, nose puns.

             It took Aaron a minute to find his voice again. He still sounded angry, but there was a muted edge to his, “You wouldn’t even look at me. You wouldn’t say a word to me unless I said something first. I’m not psychic. How was I supposed to know?”

             “Because I made you a promise,” Andrew said. “I did not forget it just because you chose not to believe me. I did what I said I would do, and fuck you for expecting anything else.”

And this paragraph right there, this is so, so important because it just sums up both their worldviews perfectly.

Aaron is still the more “normal” one of the twins – hard and bitter, but eventually the more grounded, the more realistic brother. But he also never really got to know Andrew, the real Andrew – whether out of fear of him or out of Andrew’s refusal. Andrew didn’t talk to him, and Aaron never learnt who exactly he was dealing with, so how was he supposed to know?

Andrew, on the other hand, makes promises and sticks to them, absolutely no matter what. He doesn’t care about the means to achieve his goals, he is colder and more ruthless than Aaron – or any sane person – ever could be. And in his world, this all makes sense – legit murder isn’t out of proportion, nothing can be, when it comes to keeping those he cares for safe (lizziedunbar99 made an excellent point on this the other day). When he protects someone, he protects them, all or nothing, and fuck anyone for expecting anyone else.

Yes, hello, I love these idiots.

             There it was again: a hint of that infinite anger at Andrew’s core. (…) He put his hand up between [the twins]. A heartbeat later Andrew’s expression went dead. Neil regretted his intervention immediately. No one could let go of that much rage that easily; Andrew had simply buried it where it could hurt only him.

And the moment that anger finally, healthily (!) breaks free will be the happiest day in this goddamn series.

Or, y’know, everything will go up in flames, but them’s the risks when you’re dealing with our favourite Murder Maniac.

In other news – in case you forgot (which I did), the other Foxes are still present, and they do kind of want answers at this point.

             “Is [your past] going to be a problem?” Dan asked.

             “No,” Neil said.

             Allison arched a brow at him (…) “Are you sure about that?”

I want Allison to please barge into conversations like this always, her head appearing over the scene John Cena-style.

This meme is long dead, but watch me give no shits.

             “Riko knows who I am because our families operate in similar circles, but he is a Moriyama in name only. He doesn’t have the resources to do more than threaten me.”

             “Damn, Neil,” Matt said. “Your parents must be something else if even Riko’s got to follow the rules.”

Oh hon, oh my sweet summer child, you have no idea.

And with that, the conversation is blissfully over, and we have only two tiny things to get to before this monster of a chapter is finally done.

First, Neil gets a text message:

             He didn’t recognize the number or the area code. He understood the message even less: “49”. Neil gave it a minute, but nothing else was forthcoming. He deleted the text and put his phone away.

Ah well, I’m sure this ominous and vaguely threating thing was merely a wrong number and is totally not going to come back to haunt our asses a few chapters from now.

And second, the Normal People Squad still has some opinions on the Murder Situation:

             “Just like that,” Matt said dubiously. “You’ve always known what he’s capable of, but you said he’s never given you a real reason to be afraid of him. What the hell are your parents into, if you can glide past murder like it’s no big deal and get in Riko’s face all the time?”

OH HON, OH MY SWEET SUMMER CHILD.

Also, me a few books ago.

Oh, how far we’ve come.

Unsurprisingly, yet to my great delight, Renee is not as shellshocked as Dan and Matt about Andrew’s confession, and offers some much-needed insight.

             “We cannot understand the situation entirely, Dan. We will never know Andrew’s frame of mind at the time or how bad life with her was for them. All we can do is make a choice: believe that he was protecting Aaron or condemn him for taking the most extreme path. I would rather go with the former.”

Mic drop, sweet smile, Renee out.

God, I love this girl.

If you like what I do here and you want me to continue writing fun things for you, why not buy me a coffee? Every lil bit helps, getting me through uni and all that jazz. Thanks so much!

[thelouisianauproar]

Louisiana Uproar - Chapter 27

Summary: Jason takes in Anna, an escaped member of the Ensanglante Cult; Dottie travels to Empire Bay and meets an old friend of Vito Scaletta’s.

I met with Travis at the Frazier offices.

“You here because of the rumor that I want out?” “Do you?” “What’s the right answer?” He makes a drink. “Don’t worry, I told him you wanted out, too.” “Who?” “Maguire. Dude from the state department.” He seems to so impressed with himself. “We could put these guys out, Dot.” “No.” The anger boils inside of me. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” “Dottie. You’re gonna be worth more than them. Cut it before the boardwalk.” “That’s fine, the man is an investigator. I came to you for a reason. I knew your name.” I pause. “You want to get us killed?” I need to put fear in him. “I want to save us.”

“I assure you---this isn’t the way.” I pause. “Tell you what? I appreciate what you were trying to do. Keep your head down and I’ll consider how to keep us alive.” “That guy is a resource.” “I don’t need him, yet.” I sigh, before leaving.

When I get home, Nicki is watching the television. We haven’t been the same since my drunken conversation with John. She doesn’t look to the door when I get in. The phone rings and I grab it, because I am closer. “Burke-Jetson.” “Dot, I’d like to see you at my place.” “Sure, what’s up?” “I’ll be here.” Jason hangs up. I guess that means now. I grab my keys and leave again.

“Jason.” I greet when he lets me inside. “Shhh. She’s asleep.” “Who?”  Jason points to the petite woman, she’s sleeping on his couch. “Her name is Anna.” “Oh, Anna.” I pretend like I have an idea who she is. “Ray and I heard of a place.” He says, “we went over there, today, and she came bursting out. A few men were after her.” “The men?” “Ray and I dealt with ‘em. Freakish looking.” He says, “she’s pretty gone in the head.” He hands me the horrific photos. Pictures of dead people, carved up, it looks ritualistic.

“What do we do with her?”

“She has some information that I need.” He says, “but she can’t stay here.” “So you want me to find a place for her?” “That I can access.’ “Okay.” I take some time to think. “I’ll be back.”

Today is turning longer than I planned.

“Good evening, father, is this a bad time?” “Dorothy. Come in.” “I won’t be long.” I step in. “I came to ask you for a favor.” “What’s going on?” “We found a girl running from a cult. It was a bad situation and she’s damaged.” “So, you need her out of the city?” “Hidden.” I say, “these people don’t seem right. Neither is she, I hear.” “I have...a parishioner who is out of town. Her apartment is safe. In Tickfaw.”

“I’ll call my guy.”

By midnight, we have Anna moved to that apartment. I haven’t had much to say to her, but I want to find out what she knows.

It turns out that Father knows a bit about the Ensanglante. Sammy and a few others had battled them, in the past.

“Anna.” I saw while the two men talk. “B-Bonnie?” “No, I’m Dottie. Nice to meet you.” I nod. The men join us. “You remember Jason. This here’s father.” I gesture to them. “Anna.” Jason sits. “You know anything about this?” He gives her a painted playing card.

She tells us her story. At times, she seems perfectly coherent. I can’t help but look at the splashes of blood on her clothes. Poor girl, it sounds terrible what she went though. “And the tears and...the bl-blood. He was choking. Th-th-the...sadness.” “Anna.” Jason says, “People like this have a process for indoctrination. Where else did Bonnie take you?” She looks out of breath. “..A night club...Uh...Nuit Blanche. That’s where they bring people to the family.” “Familiar to you?” “They took that bar.” Jason says, “hippie club.” “And that playing card...it’s the only way they’ll let you in.” “Got you.” He gets up. “You did good here, Anna.” I assure her. “Be careful, Jason.” He nods to me. “I did...good. I-I...good.” She repeats. She looks like she’s gonna lie back down. She’s saying something to herself. “Be careful of the fallen sky!” Whoa. I can’t gather the rest of what she repeats, I don’t understand. She plops down to rest.

---

Is anything in my life stable, at this point?  The company is about it.

“Dottie.” Stacy says. “Stacy.” I greet. “Mr. Saggio is here to see you.” Great. After my last conversation with Larry and Pierre, I don’t want to be seen with him. “Send him in.” “Hi there.” “Hello.” I put my files down. “Danna is not happy.” “Yeah, I’d imagine not.” “Don’t worry, kid.” He shrugs. “With all of us. He’s upset with you about the committee, me about this Ensanglante business. Shit, Morty is the only person he hasn’t shut out.”

Well, that’s not how you do business. “He wants us to announce everything to the team---today.” “Today?” “Today.” He starts a cigarette. Danna is having a hissy fit. “Watch your ass after this, kid.” He says, “you’d think you’re exempt from being put down.” “You thought you were exempt.” “I didn’t.” He adds. “Kid, I’ve been in this business a lot of years. No one is exempt.” He pushes out a breath and offers me a cigarette. What the hell? I shrug and he lights. “You met our friend, Anna?” “I did.” “How is she?” “Resting when I left her.” I say, “She isn’t right.” “No.” Ray slightly shakes it off. “Those people...are beating me, DOt.”

“We’ll  get them.” “They might be my Lincoln Clay. A fucking cult.” He says, “and that guy, Jason? I knew you were holding out on me.” “Is it holding out if he’s working with you?” I turn to him. “Ray, I gotta prepare for today.” “Pity parties don’t last for you, huh?” He stands and finishes his drink.

It’s hard to describe the looks on their faces when I made the announcement. I try to give a good opener, drop the bombshell, tell them what I know, and end with a supportive finish. This is a rough time for the team, and it’s only gotten worse.

“Nicki.” I catch up to her as she’s headed to her car. “Hey.” She pauses. Despite her being upset with me, I can see her empathy.

“I tried.” “I know you did.” She touches my cheeks. “You did the best you could.” “Thank you.” We share a quick kiss. “I’ll see you at home.” I say, seeing Morty run up. “Dot, hey, the Don wants to see you.” Oh, great. Nicki and I exchange one more look before I leave.

“Good work out there.”

“Seriously?” “You did the best you could.” “So what’s going on?” Morty starts a cigarette.

“It’s a shit show-”

The Don spots me. “Don Danna.” “Dot.” He nods to me. Morty leaves. “Dot, someone with the commission has been tipped off about the committee forming. They want answers.” “Great.” “You had it under control back there. We all had good things to say about you, the last time you went to meet with the Commission. Work your charm and get them off our backs.”

“Understood. Yes, sir.”

---

I flew out with Danna to Empire Bay. This place is always associated with death to me. I think about Vito, when I came here to meet Ray and Danna. I feel like I’m potentially walking into an ambush. I look over at the Don, we’re sitting in first class. I don’t trust him, I don’t even think he should be the Don. He’s just throwing me under the bus.

The first night, we were invited to a very nice restaurant. I’m nervous and I’m expecting a gunshot to the back of my head. I have to remind myself to keep a plastic smile. It’s like all the etiquette that my father taught me is working.

Ninety minutes in and I’m hating all of this. These men have come together to suck their own dicks. The compliments flow like water. It looks like one big reunion for the Don. My only escape is the bar or bathroom.

“Who is this young lady?” A heavy set man, slightly older than me, says.

“This is one of my associates, Dottie.” We shake hands. “Dottie, this is Randy Barbozo.” “Pleased to meet you.” “The pleasure is mine.” “Randy used to run around with me, a few years back.” More dick sucking.

As the night progresses, Randy is still making eyes at me. I’m bored and I’m game for something different.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, you know that?” “I’ve noticed.” “It’s nearly ten. You can leave now.” He attempts to dismiss me. My head snaps to him. “A-alls I’m saying is I have a better place to take you.”

“I’m fine.” Now, he wants to save me. “Hey, I’m bored too. Why not change pace?” I look around at the white men in the room. “I’ll bring my car around.” He raises his eyebrow once or twice.

I don’t want to stay in the love fest, but going with Randy is how women get murdered. I slip outside to call a taxi. He’s outside.

“Hey!” He honks, noting my embarrassment, he laughs.  What the hell? I’m a made guy. A made guy who is probably gonna die on this trip, either way.  I get in his car and check his backseat. “Hey, it’s all good.” He shrugs. “We might even make it.” “Where are we going?”

He took me to a boxing match. The seats are pretty good. There is a man yelling at the fighters. He gives a head nod to us both. Nice crowd.

“That’s my friend, Joe. He’s friends with the guy who runs this joint.” He gestures. We take a seat, at the front, with Joe.

What time is it? I’m actually having a good time, already. His friend, Joe, gestures for me to switch seats with Randy, so he does. Now, I’m sitting next to Joe. We pop up and stand as one fighter staggers before getting knocked out. Everyone is so excited. It’s deafening in here!

“Nice to meet you.” Joe puts out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Joe Barbaro.”

My legs nearly give out from under me. I bring both my hands to hold his. “I-” Fix your face, Dot.

“Have we met?” Joe notices my reaction. I get on my the tips of toes to say, in his ear:

“Only in my dreams.” “Oh?” He takes my hand and kisses it.

The night progressed and I’m glad I’m here. Joe is a cool cat. Towards the end of the night, he dismissed Randy. “I’ll get you a ride out of here.” “Sure.” He’s such a gentleman.

We walked through the crowd and take an elevator downstairs.

“So, where ya headed after this?” “I’m headed to the Empire Arms.” “Oh. Big meeting after this?” “You bet.” I don’t want to talk about that right now.

“What do ya do? Randy said Don Danna brought you to an event.” “He did. I handle his affairs.” The door opens and he gestures for me to leave first. He gestures at something. “Car’s coming.” He tells me. “Listen, if you’ll be here tomorrow night. I could take you on a nice night.” “I could use more fun like tonight.” I nod. “Sure.” “I’ll find you at the Empire Arms.” “Or with Danna.” A black vehicle pulls up and Joe gets the door. “Thanks for this, Joe.” “Thanks for showing up.” I take a step closer. “I would have loved to see what Joe Barbaro and Vito Scaletta were like as kids.” “What?” “I named a restaurant after Vito. Scaletta’s Ristorante.” Joe doesn’t know what to say. I simply get in the car.

“Ray speaking.”

“Ray, it’s Dot. I need a favor.” “It’s late.” “In the morning. Call Joe Barbaro and vouch for me.” “Vouch what?” “That I know Vito.” There’s a pause. “You got it. Now, how’s it going out there?”

---

The next morning, I have meetings with commission regarding the hearing. Just like my first meeting with Ray, Danna, and Mr. Galante; it’s a lot of talk. I just had to make these men trust that I know what I’m doing. It’s not easy, considering I’m the only black person in the room.

After the meeting, I stood at the bar of Empire Arms hotel. He knows that I want him. He just has to get here. “You uuhhh come here, often?” “Just one more night.” I flash him a bright smile. “Let’s make it count.” He extends his arm for me to hook.

We start off at a diner.

“Ray tells me that you and Vito were friends.” “He thought you died.” “Hey, me too. I thought Galante took care of Vito in that very car.” “Hmm.” I paused. “I loved Vito.”

We spend time relating to each other over food. They seem so different, yet similar. Joe is forty-seven. He’s married with two daughters in high school. They happen to be out of town. Like Vito, he’s done prison time.

I hear him chuckle when he returns from the bathroom.

“What?” I follow his smile. “So, old Vito mentored you?” “Among other things.” “I must say that I’m impressed.” he says, “You talk about me and Vito. You and...Clay must have been something.” “We’re far from you and Vito. Why do you think so?” “Unique looking.” Because we’re black? “That guy was a monster. I have to give him a double take.” “What does that say about me?” I ask, teasingly. “Hey, kid, something is different about you. Maybe it’s because you don’t look like you belong here.” We make eye contact and he winks. I try to hide my smile.

“Do you miss him?” “Sure, you can’t have a friend like that and not miss him.” He pauses. “You got any friends like that, kid?”

I pause to think. Maybe Nicki? Or Betty? Betty, more so than Nicki. I look at Joe and I guess my answer is telling. The waiter comes with two drinks in small glasses.

“You serve alcohol at diners?” “Only for special guests.”

“Cheers.” We both take a drink. He’s still looking at me. “I miss him.”

“Yeah.” “I get this sinking feeling that if he were alive. He’d be doing my job.” “I wouldn’t say that too loud, kid. On account of people might think things.” “I didn’t kill him.” I shrug. “I’ll have you know, I killed people because I thought they killed him.” I think I’ve had enough of this conversation.

“Hey, kid, I got some old pics of Vito back at my place. We could---” This sounds interesting. I lean forward and he nearly stops speaking. “I think you’re very interesting, Joe.” I say, “So I want to be honest with you.” Joe says nothing. “Tonight...when we go back to your place and...you know. Could I call you his name?” “Oh.” He thinks. “Vito?” “Please. I’m going to do it, either way. I just want to show you...respect.” “That’s a hell of an ask, kid.” He pauses. “Let me think on it. Let’s go someplace darker.”

Joe took me for a drive around Empire Bay. He showed me some historical spots. It’s nice. Maybe this is just how Vito was. I always heard he was old school, you just don’t meet people like them these days.

He brought me to some bar. Do they know him everywhere he goes? We walk arm in arm, Joe says it’s so people know that I’m cool. I’m him, always in his direct sight.

I haven’t played this role in a long time: girlish, young, still learning. It’s refreshing.

“Your drink.” I put it down next to Joe, he’s playing poker. “Hey, thanks.” “Who is the girl.” One guy asked. “She’s a friend of mine. My right hand for tonight.” Interesting choice of words.  “Hey, are you having a good time?” “A great time.” I pause. “What time is it?” “It’s nearly midnight.” I check his watch. I’m not sure why I took his wrist. I’m too drunk to read time. “I have to catch a flight in six hours.” “We should get you out of here, then.”

My hormones are running wild in his car and I can’t feel my face.

“How are ya doing over there?” He checks on me.

“I can’t believe you can drive, right now.” I smile. “Years of practice.” His hand finds between my legs. He’s touching me harder than I’m used to.  I close my eyes and imagine Vito’s hand. “You alright?”

“Are you really taking me to your place?” “Sure.” “What about your family?” “They won’t be back tonight.”

He lives in a nice place. I’d hoped to see Vito live in a place like this. The thought sobers me.

“Get comfortable.” He offers a drink. “I got something for ya.”

Joe leaves and returns with a photo album. “What’s this?” “I told ya.” I start to flip. I always knew Vito was an attractive young man.

“What’s the attraction here, kid?” “Between us?” “Between you and Vito.” “I told you. He was my boss, he looked out for me.” A lot. “I…” I think back to those days. I think of Alma, she loved him too. “This business… it changes you and-” I try to breathe in my tears. “He made me feel I wasn’t so alone. He heard me. He..” I chuckle. “Taught me how to be around them, without going yes, master.”

“Sounds deep, kid.” “He didn’t deserve what happened to him.” “You’re different...he always liked those.” I stand and try to gather myself.

“Joe, I’m gonna ask you again.” Joe gestures lightly like he wants to hear it. “In about ten minutes…” A smile forms across my face. “Could I call you his name?” “You have no clue how sick of a request that is.” he stops, “Yes, you can call me what you want.”

---

Nothing special was accomplished by having sex with Joe Barbaro, besides that I slept with someone new. He didn’t feel like Vito. How could he? They were shaped differently. Joe didn’t fuck me, I fucked him, he was too fat. The name “Vito” escaped my lips, just as I was sure it would.

It was just great to relate to Joe. He made me think about things. I thought I was a terrible person for cheating on Nicki. Look at Joe, he brought me to the bed that he shares with his wife. I must be in good company.

Nonetheless, Joe drove me to the airport with no sleep in our system. “You’re one of a kind, kid.” He tells me as he pulls over. “And you’re a wild ride.” We pop out to get my luggage. “You wanna know a tip? Between us?” “One for the road.” “Invest in the Jetson Organization.” I tell him. “Don’t tell your friends. Just you.” “Will do.” “We’re gonna blow up by October. Trust me.”

When we arrived back to New Bordeaux’s airport. There are men waiting to take us to our respective homes.

“Good job out there.” Danna gives me a nod. “It’s a waiting game.” The man in black opens the backseat.

“Have a good day.” I slip inside and the doors close. I feel a shift in my seat and my car speeds away. The man who closed the door doesn’t have the time to load my bags. My head snaps behind me to see Danna in the distance. I’m about to get whacked. “Driver! Driver!” I hit the glass.

The vehicle is armored, of course. I can’t get out. I try to yell to any drivers but the windows are tinted. The window to the driver rolls down and something is thrown to me. It smokes heavily. Is he trying to drug me? It looks like a joint so I roll it against the window to put it out. The energy feels like it is being sucked out of me before I can’t take it anymore.

[samanthasroberts]

The 10 Most Difficult-to-Defend Online Fandoms

Oh, fandom. So passionate, so partisan—and, too often these days, so prolifically peevish. From Tumblr and Wattpad to more mainstream platforms like Twitter and Instagram, online communities have served as rallying points for stan armies: obsessives who comb over every interview and shred of non-news for information about the object of their adoration. But increasingly, fandoms' emotions have been curdling into a different kind of potion; something petty, entitled, conspiratorial, even abusive. So on the occasion of San Diego Comic-Con, one of the biggest fan events in the world, it's time for some tough love.

First, a note: this is a look at toxic strains that exist within a larger fandom, not an indictment of a given artist or person. Fandom is a pure and precious thing, and no one should feel conflicted about being invested in a pop-culture figure or property. If you express that investment by being a worse person, though—treating appreciation like warfare, demanding dogmatic purity tests, attacking people, or seeing yourself as some kind of a crusader—than it's probably time to take some time and re-assess things. We're sure nothing in the following catalog sounds like anything you've done in the name of fandom, right? Enjoy Comic-Con!

10. Barbz (Nicki Minaj Fandom)

The Barbz are a fiercely loyal sort. Case in point: In April, upon the release of Invasion of Privacy, a writer for British GQ explained how Cardi B had adopted Nicki Minaj’s style in a much more accessible way. “Nicki intimidates; Cardi endears,” she wrote. Minaj disciples responded with an all-out attack. The GQ staffer was flooded with malicious tweets, ranging from the direct (“I will kill u bitch”) to even more direct (“You better to delete that before we get your address and start hunting you and your family down!!”) The following month, the Barbz turned on one of their own when a self-proclaimed fan wondered aloud on Twitter: “You know how dope it would be if Nicki put out mature content? No silly shit, just reflecting on past relationships, being a boss, hardships, etc.” (Minaj took it further and DMed a disgustingly petty reply to the fan). For Barbz, fandom doesn’t allow for dissent—even when it's not dissent but a valid, healthy appraisal. This may come as a surprise, y'all, but love and criticism are not mutually exclusive.

9. Swifties (Taylor Swift Fandom)

Generally speaking, Taylor Swift’s fans aren’t bad—they just really love Swift and tend to be a little over-the-top about it. And most of the time, that’s what fandom is. (Also, this is a pop star who sends holiday presents to them; she’s earned their devotion.) But within that group, the “Bad Blood” singer has a few bad apples. There are those who go after Hayley Kiyoko for daring to point out that she shouldn’t be criticized for singing about women when Swift sings about men all the time. (Swift actually agrees with Kiyoko on that point.) There are Swifties who get bent out of shape when she doesn’t get nominated for enough awards. And then there are the white supremacists—fans Swift seems to have done nothing to court, but pop up anyway. Yeah, the ones who call her an “Aryan goddess”? Those are the ones who give her a bad reputation.

8. Zack Snyder Fans

Look, Zack Snyder's hardcore supporters have it rough. Or, well, they think they do. They’ve hitched their wagon to a star that occasionally blinks out. He’s made some OK movies (Dawn of the Dead, Watchmen) but he’s made even more that have been trashed by critics: Sucker Punch; Man of Steel; Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. That's led to a persecution complex among more than a few of his stans. While this kerfuffle has died down a bit with Snyder's step back from the spotlight—recently, he has shifted focus to make iPhone movies and produce the DC movies rather than direct them—the coming years represent a reckoning. James Wan’s Aquaman and Patty Jenkins' Wonder Woman sequel are headed to theaters, and the receptions they get may determine whether critics have complaints with all DC movies, or just the ones with Snyder behind the camera. In the meantime, though, his own personal justice league will be there to defend it.

7. Rick and Morty Fans

Yes, Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland created a funny, smart, challenging (god, those burps) cartoon. Yes, it delivers a bizarro Back to the Future ride through both spacetime and genre tropes. Yes, it's the most STEM-conscious animated show since Futurama. But sweet tapdancing Pickle Rick, you've never seen a TV fandom more noisome than this one. There's the "this show is so smart normies don't get it" self-congratulation that's so over-the-top it became a copypasta meme; there's the propensity to doxx the show's female writers and generally be such venal stains that Harmon despises them; there's the mass freakout after McDonald's ran out of limited-edition Szechuan dipping sauce. (Yes, that's correct.) While Adult Swim recently renewed the show for 70 new episodes, there's going to be quite a lull before anyone sees a new episode—here's hoping the fans grow up a little bit in the meantime.

6. #TeamBreezy (Chris Brown Fandom)

It’s been almost a decade since reports first surfaced of Chris Brown’s violent abuse of then-girlfriend Rihanna. Since then, Rihanna has rocketed to pop superstardom while Brown’s career has strided along, aided by a loyal following that borders on enablers. Despite an earnest-seeming redemption tour, reports of Brown’s violent behavior continue to bubble up: Brown’s ex-girlfriend filed for a restraining order; Brown went on a homophobic Twitter rant; Brown punched a fan in a nightclub; Brown locked a woman in his home, without a cell phone, so she could be sexually assaulted. (Brown’s camp denies that last accusation.) Yet, Team Breezy generally attributes such reports to misinformation and "haters." Fandoms are built on stand-by-your-man loyalty, but at some point it becomes impossible to love the art in good conscience. If the #MeToo movement is any indication, the times have changed since Rihanna’s bloody face headlined gossip sites. Willful ignorance is no longer an acceptable choice.

5. XXXtentacion Fans

On June 18, outside of a Broward County motorcycle dealership, 20-year-old Jahseh Onfroy was fatally gunned down by two assailants. At the time of his death, Onfroy, who rapped under the moniker XXXTentacion, had already amassed a rare kind of fame: He attracted deep love and even deeper hate with a ferocious mania. The allure of Onfroy’s dark matter inspired the type of fandom that spills into violent obsession. A recurring source of vitriol for the rapper, and an easy target for his rabid fanbase, was his ex-girlfriend, Geneva Ayala, who filed multiple charges against the rapper (including aggravated battery of a pregnant woman, domestic battery by strangulation, and witness tampering). When it came to light that Ayala created a GoFundMe campaign to raise money for hospital bills due to damage inflicted by Onfroy, his fans bullied her into exile: forcing her to delete Instagram, hacking her Twitter account, harassing her at work to the point that she was left with no option but to quit, and shutting down her GoFundMe (it was later reopened). Having made a name for himself on Soundcloud, where he often engaged issues of mental health in his music, Onfroy willingly embraced his demons (he once called himself “lil dylan roof” on Twitter, referencing the Charleston shooter who murdered nine parishioners in South Carolina in 2015). But even now, in death, XXX is a reminder that extreme fandom has the power to blind people to the blood on their own hands.

4. Logang (Logan Paul Fandom)

Let’s get this out of the way up front. Many, even most, of Logan Paul’s fans are literal children. And so if you ask us who is really responsible for their bad behavior, we’re going to have to say the fault is predominantly with Paul and, you know, other adults. But the Logang (or the Logangsters, depending on who you ask), like Lil Tay, are inventing a new category of internet villain: the terrifying baby troll. They do all the things adult trolls do—parrot back the sexist and racist things Pauls says, stalk him outside hotel rooms, and harass and troll the “haters” daring to criticize their deeply problematic idol—but they’re kids! So you can’t really fire back at them without being a jerk yourself. Listen, Logang: all Logan wants to do is sell you merch. He’s not really your friend. Can I interest you in a puppy video?

3. Bro Army (Pewdiepie Fandom)

First rule of non-toxic fandoms: Don’t call yourselves "bro," don’t call yourselves an "army," and definitely don’t call yourselves the Bro Army. People might assume you’re a bunch of flame-war-loving trolls who think girls are icky—and where YouTuber PewDiePie’s fans are concerned, everyone would be absolutely right. It’s not just that they’ve stuck with the Swedish gamer/alleged comedian as he peppered his videos with racial slurs, rape jokes, anti-Semitism, and homophobia for nearly a decade (though that’s bad enough). It’s also that they insist that PewDiePie somehow isn’t being hateful at all. Oh, and if you quote their hero back at them, they’ll wallpaper your social media accounts with thoughtful messages about how you suck—for years.

2. The Dark Side of Star Wars Fandom

The most recent eruption has been a hilariously non-ironic campaign to remake The Last Jedi, but that's sadly just the latest in a long line of online grossness from the entitled Sith-heads who are so keen on reclaiming the Star Wars universe . Somehow, Gamergate has come to a galaxy far, far away; hectoring, harassment, even death threats aimed at director Rian Johnson. To be clear, this is a tiny (if vocal) subset of Star Wars fandom, which on the whole is as joyous and inclusive as the universe is finally becoming. But to to quote our own Adam Rogers:

"Everyone has a right to opinions about movies. Everyone has a right, I guess, to throw those opinions in the face of the people who make those movies, though it does seem at minimum impolite. Everyone has the right to ask transnational entertainment companies to make the movies they want, and if those companies don’t respond, to stop giving the companies money. But harassment, threats, jokes about someone’s race or gender? A Jedi would fight someone who did that stuff. The Force binds us all together. Hatred and anger are the ways of the Dark Side; they may bring power, but at a cost. It harms individuals, debases the people who do it, and it breaks the Fellowship. In the end, the cost of that power will be powerlessness."

1. Elon Musk Acolytes

"Always punch up" is a good life motto. You’ll accomplish a lot by speaking truth to power; dissecting the misdeeds of a relative unknown, though, makes you look like a tool. That’s why, despite the plethora of dark and toxic fandoms that flourish on the fringes of the internet, the group that tops our list of nasties is devoted to a person at the internet's very center: Elon Musk. To his fan club, Musk is so much more than a charismatic artist, a talented musician, or, hey, a flawed but successful tech entrepreneur—he’s a messiah, a vestige of an age of retrograde masculinity, when a reasonably successful man could expect his ideas to remain unchecked and his words be read as gospel. And Musk wields his one-man metaphor status (and his 22.3 million follower army) to whack out any dissenting opinions. “Because before he commented on my tweet, it was floundering in relative obscurity,” science writer Erin Biba wrote in a piece for the Daily Beast. But after Musk’s dismissive response, Biba found herself drowning in hate mail and abuse. By letting his mob pick over opinions he does not like, Musk is able to control the narrative, playing up investigative reporting on Tesla’s poor labor practices as a misinformation campaign—or even, in some recent deleted tweets, insinuating that one of the people involved with the Thai cave rescue efforts is a pedophile. It’s bad to be thin-skinned, and terrible to play the underdog, but playing it while you ignite a million-man bullying campaign is reprehensible.

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Source: http://allofbeer.com/the-10-most-difficult-to-defend-online-fandoms/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2019/03/20/the-10-most-difficult-to-defend-online-fandoms/

[adambstingus]

The 10 Most Difficult-to-Defend Online Fandoms

Oh, fandom. So passionate, so partisan—and, too often these days, so prolifically peevish. From Tumblr and Wattpad to more mainstream platforms like Twitter and Instagram, online communities have served as rallying points for stan armies: obsessives who comb over every interview and shred of non-news for information about the object of their adoration. But increasingly, fandoms’ emotions have been curdling into a different kind of potion; something petty, entitled, conspiratorial, even abusive. So on the occasion of San Diego Comic-Con, one of the biggest fan events in the world, it’s time for some tough love.

First, a note: this is a look at toxic strains that exist within a larger fandom, not an indictment of a given artist or person. Fandom is a pure and precious thing, and no one should feel conflicted about being invested in a pop-culture figure or property. If you express that investment by being a worse person, though—treating appreciation like warfare, demanding dogmatic purity tests, attacking people, or seeing yourself as some kind of a crusader—than it’s probably time to take some time and re-assess things. We’re sure nothing in the following catalog sounds like anything you’ve done in the name of fandom, right? Enjoy Comic-Con!

10. Barbz (Nicki Minaj Fandom)

The Barbz are a fiercely loyal sort. Case in point: In April, upon the release of Invasion of Privacy, a writer for British GQ explained how Cardi B had adopted Nicki Minaj’s style in a much more accessible way. “Nicki intimidates; Cardi endears,” she wrote. Minaj disciples responded with an all-out attack. The GQ staffer was flooded with malicious tweets, ranging from the direct (“I will kill u bitch”) to even more direct (“You better to delete that before we get your address and start hunting you and your family down!!”) The following month, the Barbz turned on one of their own when a self-proclaimed fan wondered aloud on Twitter: “You know how dope it would be if Nicki put out mature content? No silly shit, just reflecting on past relationships, being a boss, hardships, etc.” (Minaj took it further and DMed a disgustingly petty reply to the fan). For Barbz, fandom doesn’t allow for dissent—even when it’s not dissent but a valid, healthy appraisal. This may come as a surprise, y'all, but love and criticism are not mutually exclusive.

9. Swifties (Taylor Swift Fandom)

Generally speaking, Taylor Swift’s fans aren’t bad—they just really love Swift and tend to be a little over-the-top about it. And most of the time, that’s what fandom is. (Also, this is a pop star who sends holiday presents to them; she’s earned their devotion.) But within that group, the “Bad Blood” singer has a few bad apples. There are those who go after Hayley Kiyoko for daring to point out that she shouldn’t be criticized for singing about women when Swift sings about men all the time. (Swift actually agrees with Kiyoko on that point.) There are Swifties who get bent out of shape when she doesn’t get nominated for enough awards. And then there are the white supremacists—fans Swift seems to have done nothing to court, but pop up anyway. Yeah, the ones who call her an “Aryan goddess”? Those are the ones who give her a bad reputation.

8. Zack Snyder Fans

Look, Zack Snyder’s hardcore supporters have it rough. Or, well, they think they do. They’ve hitched their wagon to a star that occasionally blinks out. He’s made some OK movies (Dawn of the Dead, Watchmen) but he’s made even more that have been trashed by critics: Sucker Punch; Man of Steel; Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. That’s led to a persecution complex among more than a few of his stans. While this kerfuffle has died down a bit with Snyder’s step back from the spotlight—recently, he has shifted focus to make iPhone movies and produce the DC movies rather than direct them—the coming years represent a reckoning. James Wan’s Aquaman and Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman sequel are headed to theaters, and the receptions they get may determine whether critics have complaints with all DC movies, or just the ones with Snyder behind the camera. In the meantime, though, his own personal justice league will be there to defend it.

7. Rick and Morty Fans

Yes, Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland created a funny, smart, challenging (god, those burps) cartoon. Yes, it delivers a bizarro Back to the Future ride through both spacetime and genre tropes. Yes, it’s the most STEM-conscious animated show since Futurama. But sweet tapdancing Pickle Rick, you’ve never seen a TV fandom more noisome than this one. There’s the “this show is so smart normies don’t get it” self-congratulation that’s so over-the-top it became a copypasta meme; there’s the propensity to doxx the show’s female writers and generally be such venal stains that Harmon despises them; there’s the mass freakout after McDonald’s ran out of limited-edition Szechuan dipping sauce. (Yes, that’s correct.) While Adult Swim recently renewed the show for 70 new episodes, there’s going to be quite a lull before anyone sees a new episode—here’s hoping the fans grow up a little bit in the meantime.

6. #TeamBreezy (Chris Brown Fandom)

It’s been almost a decade since reports first surfaced of Chris Brown’s violent abuse of then-girlfriend Rihanna. Since then, Rihanna has rocketed to pop superstardom while Brown’s career has strided along, aided by a loyal following that borders on enablers. Despite an earnest-seeming redemption tour, reports of Brown’s violent behavior continue to bubble up: Brown’s ex-girlfriend filed for a restraining order; Brown went on a homophobic Twitter rant; Brown punched a fan in a nightclub; Brown locked a woman in his home, without a cell phone, so she could be sexually assaulted. (Brown’s camp denies that last accusation.) Yet, Team Breezy generally attributes such reports to misinformation and “haters.” Fandoms are built on stand-by-your-man loyalty, but at some point it becomes impossible to love the art in good conscience. If the #MeToo movement is any indication, the times have changed since Rihanna’s bloody face headlined gossip sites. Willful ignorance is no longer an acceptable choice.

5. XXXtentacion Fans

On June 18, outside of a Broward County motorcycle dealership, 20-year-old Jahseh Onfroy was fatally gunned down by two assailants. At the time of his death, Onfroy, who rapped under the moniker XXXTentacion, had already amassed a rare kind of fame: He attracted deep love and even deeper hate with a ferocious mania. The allure of Onfroy’s dark matter inspired the type of fandom that spills into violent obsession. A recurring source of vitriol for the rapper, and an easy target for his rabid fanbase, was his ex-girlfriend, Geneva Ayala, who filed multiple charges against the rapper (including aggravated battery of a pregnant woman, domestic battery by strangulation, and witness tampering). When it came to light that Ayala created a GoFundMe campaign to raise money for hospital bills due to damage inflicted by Onfroy, his fans bullied her into exile: forcing her to delete Instagram, hacking her Twitter account, harassing her at work to the point that she was left with no option but to quit, and shutting down her GoFundMe (it was later reopened). Having made a name for himself on Soundcloud, where he often engaged issues of mental health in his music, Onfroy willingly embraced his demons (he once called himself “lil dylan roof” on Twitter, referencing the Charleston shooter who murdered nine parishioners in South Carolina in 2015). But even now, in death, XXX is a reminder that extreme fandom has the power to blind people to the blood on their own hands.

4. Logang (Logan Paul Fandom)

Let’s get this out of the way up front. Many, even most, of Logan Paul’s fans are literal children. And so if you ask us who is really responsible for their bad behavior, we’re going to have to say the fault is predominantly with Paul and, you know, other adults. But the Logang (or the Logangsters, depending on who you ask), like Lil Tay, are inventing a new category of internet villain: the terrifying baby troll. They do all the things adult trolls do—parrot back the sexist and racist things Pauls says, stalk him outside hotel rooms, and harass and troll the “haters” daring to criticize their deeply problematic idol—but they’re kids! So you can’t really fire back at them without being a jerk yourself. Listen, Logang: all Logan wants to do is sell you merch. He’s not really your friend. Can I interest you in a puppy video?

3. Bro Army (Pewdiepie Fandom)

First rule of non-toxic fandoms: Don’t call yourselves “bro,” don’t call yourselves an “army,” and definitely don’t call yourselves the Bro Army. People might assume you’re a bunch of flame-war-loving trolls who think girls are icky—and where YouTuber PewDiePie’s fans are concerned, everyone would be absolutely right. It’s not just that they’ve stuck with the Swedish gamer/alleged comedian as he peppered his videos with racial slurs, rape jokes, anti-Semitism, and homophobia for nearly a decade (though that’s bad enough). It’s also that they insist that PewDiePie somehow isn’t being hateful at all. Oh, and if you quote their hero back at them, they’ll wallpaper your social media accounts with thoughtful messages about how you suck—for years.

2. The Dark Side of Star Wars Fandom

The most recent eruption has been a hilariously non-ironic campaign to remake The Last Jedi, but that’s sadly just the latest in a long line of online grossness from the entitled Sith-heads who are so keen on reclaiming the Star Wars universe . Somehow, Gamergate has come to a galaxy far, far away; hectoring, harassment, even death threats aimed at director Rian Johnson. To be clear, this is a tiny (if vocal) subset of Star Wars fandom, which on the whole is as joyous and inclusive as the universe is finally becoming. But to to quote our own Adam Rogers:

“Everyone has a right to opinions about movies. Everyone has a right, I guess, to throw those opinions in the face of the people who make those movies, though it does seem at minimum impolite. Everyone has the right to ask transnational entertainment companies to make the movies they want, and if those companies don’t respond, to stop giving the companies money. But harassment, threats, jokes about someone’s race or gender? A Jedi would fight someone who did that stuff. The Force binds us all together. Hatred and anger are the ways of the Dark Side; they may bring power, but at a cost. It harms individuals, debases the people who do it, and it breaks the Fellowship. In the end, the cost of that power will be powerlessness.”

1. Elon Musk Acolytes

“Always punch up” is a good life motto. You’ll accomplish a lot by speaking truth to power; dissecting the misdeeds of a relative unknown, though, makes you look like a tool. That’s why, despite the plethora of dark and toxic fandoms that flourish on the fringes of the internet, the group that tops our list of nasties is devoted to a person at the internet’s very center: Elon Musk. To his fan club, Musk is so much more than a charismatic artist, a talented musician, or, hey, a flawed but successful tech entrepreneur—he’s a messiah, a vestige of an age of retrograde masculinity, when a reasonably successful man could expect his ideas to remain unchecked and his words be read as gospel. And Musk wields his one-man metaphor status (and his 22.3 million follower army) to whack out any dissenting opinions. “Because before he commented on my tweet, it was floundering in relative obscurity,” science writer Erin Biba wrote in a piece for the Daily Beast. But after Musk’s dismissive response, Biba found herself drowning in hate mail and abuse. By letting his mob pick over opinions he does not like, Musk is able to control the narrative, playing up investigative reporting on Tesla’s poor labor practices as a misinformation campaign—or even, in some recent deleted tweets, insinuating that one of the people involved with the Thai cave rescue efforts is a pedophile. It’s bad to be thin-skinned, and terrible to play the underdog, but playing it while you ignite a million-man bullying campaign is reprehensible.

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How To Battle Trolling Ad Hominem Attacks Online

An internet troll’s favorite way to argue? Ad hominem, of course! This is your guide to spotting bad arguments on the internet and how to fight them.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-10-most-difficult-to-defend-online-fandoms/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/183577966647

[allofbeercom]

The 10 Most Difficult-to-Defend Online Fandoms

Oh, fandom. So passionate, so partisan—and, too often these days, so prolifically peevish. From Tumblr and Wattpad to more mainstream platforms like Twitter and Instagram, online communities have served as rallying points for stan armies: obsessives who comb over every interview and shred of non-news for information about the object of their adoration. But increasingly, fandoms' emotions have been curdling into a different kind of potion; something petty, entitled, conspiratorial, even abusive. So on the occasion of San Diego Comic-Con, one of the biggest fan events in the world, it's time for some tough love.

First, a note: this is a look at toxic strains that exist within a larger fandom, not an indictment of a given artist or person. Fandom is a pure and precious thing, and no one should feel conflicted about being invested in a pop-culture figure or property. If you express that investment by being a worse person, though—treating appreciation like warfare, demanding dogmatic purity tests, attacking people, or seeing yourself as some kind of a crusader—than it's probably time to take some time and re-assess things. We're sure nothing in the following catalog sounds like anything you've done in the name of fandom, right? Enjoy Comic-Con!

10. Barbz (Nicki Minaj Fandom)

The Barbz are a fiercely loyal sort. Case in point: In April, upon the release of Invasion of Privacy, a writer for British GQ explained how Cardi B had adopted Nicki Minaj’s style in a much more accessible way. “Nicki intimidates; Cardi endears,” she wrote. Minaj disciples responded with an all-out attack. The GQ staffer was flooded with malicious tweets, ranging from the direct (“I will kill u bitch”) to even more direct (“You better to delete that before we get your address and start hunting you and your family down!!”) The following month, the Barbz turned on one of their own when a self-proclaimed fan wondered aloud on Twitter: “You know how dope it would be if Nicki put out mature content? No silly shit, just reflecting on past relationships, being a boss, hardships, etc.” (Minaj took it further and DMed a disgustingly petty reply to the fan). For Barbz, fandom doesn’t allow for dissent—even when it's not dissent but a valid, healthy appraisal. This may come as a surprise, y'all, but love and criticism are not mutually exclusive.

9. Swifties (Taylor Swift Fandom)

Generally speaking, Taylor Swift’s fans aren’t bad—they just really love Swift and tend to be a little over-the-top about it. And most of the time, that’s what fandom is. (Also, this is a pop star who sends holiday presents to them; she’s earned their devotion.) But within that group, the “Bad Blood” singer has a few bad apples. There are those who go after Hayley Kiyoko for daring to point out that she shouldn’t be criticized for singing about women when Swift sings about men all the time. (Swift actually agrees with Kiyoko on that point.) There are Swifties who get bent out of shape when she doesn’t get nominated for enough awards. And then there are the white supremacists—fans Swift seems to have done nothing to court, but pop up anyway. Yeah, the ones who call her an “Aryan goddess”? Those are the ones who give her a bad reputation.

8. Zack Snyder Fans

Look, Zack Snyder's hardcore supporters have it rough. Or, well, they think they do. They’ve hitched their wagon to a star that occasionally blinks out. He’s made some OK movies (Dawn of the Dead, Watchmen) but he’s made even more that have been trashed by critics: Sucker Punch; Man of Steel; Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. That's led to a persecution complex among more than a few of his stans. While this kerfuffle has died down a bit with Snyder's step back from the spotlight—recently, he has shifted focus to make iPhone movies and produce the DC movies rather than direct them—the coming years represent a reckoning. James Wan’s Aquaman and Patty Jenkins' Wonder Woman sequel are headed to theaters, and the receptions they get may determine whether critics have complaints with all DC movies, or just the ones with Snyder behind the camera. In the meantime, though, his own personal justice league will be there to defend it.

7. Rick and Morty Fans

Yes, Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland created a funny, smart, challenging (god, those burps) cartoon. Yes, it delivers a bizarro Back to the Future ride through both spacetime and genre tropes. Yes, it's the most STEM-conscious animated show since Futurama. But sweet tapdancing Pickle Rick, you've never seen a TV fandom more noisome than this one. There's the "this show is so smart normies don't get it" self-congratulation that's so over-the-top it became a copypasta meme; there's the propensity to doxx the show's female writers and generally be such venal stains that Harmon despises them; there's the mass freakout after McDonald's ran out of limited-edition Szechuan dipping sauce. (Yes, that's correct.) While Adult Swim recently renewed the show for 70 new episodes, there's going to be quite a lull before anyone sees a new episode—here's hoping the fans grow up a little bit in the meantime.

6. #TeamBreezy (Chris Brown Fandom)

It’s been almost a decade since reports first surfaced of Chris Brown’s violent abuse of then-girlfriend Rihanna. Since then, Rihanna has rocketed to pop superstardom while Brown’s career has strided along, aided by a loyal following that borders on enablers. Despite an earnest-seeming redemption tour, reports of Brown’s violent behavior continue to bubble up: Brown’s ex-girlfriend filed for a restraining order; Brown went on a homophobic Twitter rant; Brown punched a fan in a nightclub; Brown locked a woman in his home, without a cell phone, so she could be sexually assaulted. (Brown’s camp denies that last accusation.) Yet, Team Breezy generally attributes such reports to misinformation and "haters." Fandoms are built on stand-by-your-man loyalty, but at some point it becomes impossible to love the art in good conscience. If the #MeToo movement is any indication, the times have changed since Rihanna’s bloody face headlined gossip sites. Willful ignorance is no longer an acceptable choice.

5. XXXtentacion Fans

On June 18, outside of a Broward County motorcycle dealership, 20-year-old Jahseh Onfroy was fatally gunned down by two assailants. At the time of his death, Onfroy, who rapped under the moniker XXXTentacion, had already amassed a rare kind of fame: He attracted deep love and even deeper hate with a ferocious mania. The allure of Onfroy’s dark matter inspired the type of fandom that spills into violent obsession. A recurring source of vitriol for the rapper, and an easy target for his rabid fanbase, was his ex-girlfriend, Geneva Ayala, who filed multiple charges against the rapper (including aggravated battery of a pregnant woman, domestic battery by strangulation, and witness tampering). When it came to light that Ayala created a GoFundMe campaign to raise money for hospital bills due to damage inflicted by Onfroy, his fans bullied her into exile: forcing her to delete Instagram, hacking her Twitter account, harassing her at work to the point that she was left with no option but to quit, and shutting down her GoFundMe (it was later reopened). Having made a name for himself on Soundcloud, where he often engaged issues of mental health in his music, Onfroy willingly embraced his demons (he once called himself “lil dylan roof” on Twitter, referencing the Charleston shooter who murdered nine parishioners in South Carolina in 2015). But even now, in death, XXX is a reminder that extreme fandom has the power to blind people to the blood on their own hands.

4. Logang (Logan Paul Fandom)

Let’s get this out of the way up front. Many, even most, of Logan Paul’s fans are literal children. And so if you ask us who is really responsible for their bad behavior, we’re going to have to say the fault is predominantly with Paul and, you know, other adults. But the Logang (or the Logangsters, depending on who you ask), like Lil Tay, are inventing a new category of internet villain: the terrifying baby troll. They do all the things adult trolls do—parrot back the sexist and racist things Pauls says, stalk him outside hotel rooms, and harass and troll the “haters” daring to criticize their deeply problematic idol—but they’re kids! So you can’t really fire back at them without being a jerk yourself. Listen, Logang: all Logan wants to do is sell you merch. He’s not really your friend. Can I interest you in a puppy video?

3. Bro Army (Pewdiepie Fandom)

First rule of non-toxic fandoms: Don’t call yourselves "bro," don’t call yourselves an "army," and definitely don’t call yourselves the Bro Army. People might assume you’re a bunch of flame-war-loving trolls who think girls are icky—and where YouTuber PewDiePie’s fans are concerned, everyone would be absolutely right. It’s not just that they’ve stuck with the Swedish gamer/alleged comedian as he peppered his videos with racial slurs, rape jokes, anti-Semitism, and homophobia for nearly a decade (though that’s bad enough). It’s also that they insist that PewDiePie somehow isn’t being hateful at all. Oh, and if you quote their hero back at them, they’ll wallpaper your social media accounts with thoughtful messages about how you suck—for years.

2. The Dark Side of Star Wars Fandom

The most recent eruption has been a hilariously non-ironic campaign to remake The Last Jedi, but that's sadly just the latest in a long line of online grossness from the entitled Sith-heads who are so keen on reclaiming the Star Wars universe . Somehow, Gamergate has come to a galaxy far, far away; hectoring, harassment, even death threats aimed at director Rian Johnson. To be clear, this is a tiny (if vocal) subset of Star Wars fandom, which on the whole is as joyous and inclusive as the universe is finally becoming. But to to quote our own Adam Rogers:

"Everyone has a right to opinions about movies. Everyone has a right, I guess, to throw those opinions in the face of the people who make those movies, though it does seem at minimum impolite. Everyone has the right to ask transnational entertainment companies to make the movies they want, and if those companies don’t respond, to stop giving the companies money. But harassment, threats, jokes about someone’s race or gender? A Jedi would fight someone who did that stuff. The Force binds us all together. Hatred and anger are the ways of the Dark Side; they may bring power, but at a cost. It harms individuals, debases the people who do it, and it breaks the Fellowship. In the end, the cost of that power will be powerlessness."

1. Elon Musk Acolytes

"Always punch up" is a good life motto. You’ll accomplish a lot by speaking truth to power; dissecting the misdeeds of a relative unknown, though, makes you look like a tool. That’s why, despite the plethora of dark and toxic fandoms that flourish on the fringes of the internet, the group that tops our list of nasties is devoted to a person at the internet's very center: Elon Musk. To his fan club, Musk is so much more than a charismatic artist, a talented musician, or, hey, a flawed but successful tech entrepreneur—he’s a messiah, a vestige of an age of retrograde masculinity, when a reasonably successful man could expect his ideas to remain unchecked and his words be read as gospel. And Musk wields his one-man metaphor status (and his 22.3 million follower army) to whack out any dissenting opinions. “Because before he commented on my tweet, it was floundering in relative obscurity,” science writer Erin Biba wrote in a piece for the Daily Beast. But after Musk’s dismissive response, Biba found herself drowning in hate mail and abuse. By letting his mob pick over opinions he does not like, Musk is able to control the narrative, playing up investigative reporting on Tesla’s poor labor practices as a misinformation campaign—or even, in some recent deleted tweets, insinuating that one of the people involved with the Thai cave rescue efforts is a pedophile. It’s bad to be thin-skinned, and terrible to play the underdog, but playing it while you ignite a million-man bullying campaign is reprehensible.

More Great WIRED Stories

Sex, beer, and coding: Inside Facebook’s wild, early days

Sci-fi invades Netflix—as they both invade your home

The worst cybersecurity hacks of 2018 so far

Microsoft’s big bet on a tiny-computer future

How Silicon Valley fuels an informal caste system

Looking for more? Sign up for our daily newsletter and never miss our latest and greatest stories

Related Video

Culture

How To Battle Trolling Ad Hominem Attacks Online

An internet troll's favorite way to argue? Ad hominem, of course! This is your guide to spotting bad arguments on the internet and how to fight them.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-10-most-difficult-to-defend-online-fandoms/