#dumb penalties all the way down

[ratatatastic]

paul this morning

versus your 2425 florida pantrs when faced with the prospect of not embarrassing paulson for a whole 60 minutes after he praises them

[cedarxwing]

Absolutely FERAL over the hannigram privacy room scene...

Will is SO disgusted with Hannibal. From his perspective, either:

a) Hannibal thinks Will and everyone else is stupid enough to believe the copycat killer murdered the bailiff.

b) Hannibal is playing dumb to screw Will over in his trial, ensuring he'll get the death penalty.

c) Hannibal killed the bailiff but didn't do it properly on purpose to sadistically dangle Will's freedom in front of him before snatching it away.

Meanwhile, Hannibal looks sooo pathetic. Sad wet cat can't fool Will the way he could in S1 anymore. Ugh, step on him, Will. Squash him like a bug.

Hannibal's doublespeak here is insane.

"I wanted to dispel your doubts once and for all." <- Obviously, Will's first thought is that Hannibal means, "I want you to believe I'm not the copycat killer." That's the biggest "doubt" Will has about him, after all. But that makes absolutely no sense in this context, because how does a copycat murder happening while Will is in prison help prove Hannibal's innocence? It's doesn't! The opposite, in fact!

So we get a beautiful "what the fuck" moment from Will as he tries to figure out what Hannibal could possibly mean. Is Hannibal admitting that he did kill the bailiff on Will's behalf? Or does he only mean that he wished the secret admirer could be mistaken for the copycat, so that Will won't doubt that Hannibal is trying to get him out of prison?

"I want you to believe in the best of me, Will. Just as I believe in the best of you." <- Line that makes me want to throw Hannibal in a washing machine on a high spin cycle, because how does he always string words together into perfect optical illusions? He sounds like he's still trying to convince Will that he's innocent, but he really means, "I want you to believe that I have the best intentions for you." And to a normal person, "believing in the best of Will" would mean believing in his innocence, but of course Hannibal means that he believes Will is really a killer deep down inside. UGH.

But this is the moment that really does it for me. When Will won't play along with the bailiff lie, Hannibal throws a TANTRUM. Looking away, fidgeting, complaining that Will's locked away in prison like he's a toy his parents put on a shelf too high for him to reach. This line omits some sentences from the script, boiling them down to this momentary emotional outburst:

He's goading Will, trying to get him to participate in the "alchemy of lies and truths." Whispering, "Jack and Alana are no better than Kade Prurnell, lying about your sanity because they think you did it. They don't want you to walk free like I do. I'm willing to say whatever (or kill whoever) it takes to get you out of here."

And it works. Will ends up dropping his insanity defense. Is he so sick of prison life that he's willing to risk death for a slim chance at freedom? Or does he trust that Hannibal will do anything keep him out of the electric chair? The night after his plea of not guilty is ruled invalid, alone in his cell, is Will anticipating his own execution or the judge's?

Bonus points for Hannibal's pretty pink paisley tie and matching plaid suit. Babygirl dolled himself up before visiting Will. 💕

[takes1]

Hi hiii :)) your writing is amazing mwah mwah. Perfection.

Anyways just wanted to request a Kageyama x reader, who just happens to be oikawa’s younger sister who is also very into volleyball. People get shocked that she’s Oikawa sister since their personalities are so different but they look somewhat alike (they’re both tall and pretty hahah). Kageyama was watching the girls teams play at the tournament since theirs finished and he kinda got obsessed with the way she plays and obviously reader looked amazing 🤭🤭 so he approaches her after the game not knowing she’s Oikawa’s sister

kageyama flirting w/ tall!ace!reader

*attempting. attempting to flirt in his own unique way. poor thing. also i love you anon and thank you sm!

warnings. none, sfw

info. kageyama attempting to flirt / tall!reader / ace!reader / oikawa's sister!reader / kageyama being dumb / kageyama crushing on reader / aoba johsai!reader / wingman!hinata / exchange of numbers / potential for a part 2 / 2.6k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests? part two here.

Kageyama chose to sit and watch a few more teams play their respective tournament bracket while waiting for their bus to pick them up. It would be a long ride home. He would zone out, rest, and get away from the buzzing, orange fly in his ear then.

Right now, in the middle of Aoba Johsai's last set, he kept on the edge of his seat with a firm brow.

"She's like Azumane," Hinata sighed, about a five minutes behind Kageyama's own observations.

It took not only a stellar performance, but a timeout and penalty because you broke three of Date Tech number 8's fingers with your last spike for Hinata to make that connection.

The penalty costed your team their last two points. You were called off the court for the next 4 minutes, he barely caught your dewy face made of stone. Both audiences were in an uproar- one more justified than the other- but Kageyama had to side with you because he needed to watch you play more. He might not get the chance again.

Number 8 should've taped her fingers. Better yet, she shouldn't have tried to keep blocking you.

You not only knew how to get around it, but the way you worked with your setter, and the unmatched control and strength in your swing made blocks impossible.

"I didn't think this kind of thing happened with the girls," Hinata mumbled, craning over Kageyama to get a look at you off-court.

Kageyama shoved him off and rolled his eyes at the assertion. "Obviously, dumbass."

A smattering of Johsai's male team were taking the hit harder than even you, at the edge of the bleachers.

Oikawa led Watari, Yahaba, and Mattsu, and Hanamaki in their 'Crybaby' chants. They were on their way to earning another penalty for your team, deterred only by Iwa, who was about the only person alive that could successfully shut it down.

Now both of the teams were in a tense battle, both genuinely angry at one another for taking needed players off. It was a rigid one-point dual for minutes.

He had a limited view of you as it played out- tough and stiff as just about everyone working for your team took turns talking to you; Coach, advisor, manager, teammates. Assumedly all "It's not your fault," "Keep your head up," "8 will be alright" and the like. You were their Ace, for sure.

4 minutes was enough time to assume their girls' team would meet the same unfortunate fate as the boys today against Karasuno. It was why all the Johsai guys were leaned over the railing, screaming at every play, because they just couldn't take another devastating loss.

He didn't realize how much they needed you until they let you out, unfortunately timed straight into an even-scored serve.

"(F/n)!!" Oikawa shouted, above the roar of the audience once they all realized you were released and put in the back position.

Kageyama watched you look up- that was your name? How did he know your first name?

The rest of the Johsai team joined him when he cried, "Break it!!"

Your big, pretty grin raised Kageyama to his feet. He had to see this.

Your ritual was silent and rode the time out to the very last second. A sigh of breath on the ball, another good luck spin, then up into a jump--

WHAM!!

A loud, clean, cross-court serve to win the game for Johsai. No volley. Just a brutal, final blow to Date Tech's morale. They sank into the floor as your school flew into a frenzy and celebrated a satisfying victory.

That serve was familiar, but Kageyama didn't get to dwell on its origin too much before Hinata yanked him out of his thoughts.

"You should talk to her!"

He was too close, and he could feel his face warming up, so he shoved Hinata's head to the side and started walking away.

"You clearly like her," Hinata muttered.

A quick turn of his head, with a very mean expression, shut him up- but it didn't help the heat crawling up the back of his neck, and it didn't reduce the truth in Hinata's argument. Just his volume.

No amount of brooding or pride would get him any closer to you. Caught between the choice of rejoining his team or making his existence known, he turned sharp on his heels.

And Hinata knew better than to speak and revel in his victory just yet. Kageyama would probably screw this up.

When they were coming quietly up on Aoba Johsai's designated spot, Hinata scanned the crowd of girls for you, and despite the many distractions, found an interesting twist. Oikawa let you down from a monster hug and it was clear his dark-haired counterpart was too in-his-head to notice.

Kageyama bit a shudder back at the sight of so many people crowded up. He had no real reason to approach you, no connection, no excuse other than the truth.

"I think--,"

"Don't talk to me." Kageyama snapped, short on patience. He pushed his hands through his hair and added, "Don't even act like you know me. Just... be somewhere else."

Hinata pushed a giggly smile down. He split off and decided to pick Iwa's brain for some tips.

Kageyama rubbed his hot face in his sobering absence- he'd have to gather his courage alone.

You were leaned over a bench full of various duffle bags, trying your best to quiet your mind with all the celebration behind you, when a presence broke through your focus.

When you looked up, it wasn't a teammate or one of your brother's friends- it was somebody new. Somebody cute, and tall enough.

"Hi?" You glanced around, but found that he was indeed addressing you with an unbroken stare, "Uh- nice to meet you?"

You weren't nearly as mean as the game made you. You were like Azumane, in the way that you seemed quite kindly when you spoke. You were far prettier, too.

"Hey," He muttered, glancing around for a moment in a dismissive fashion, "That was a good game."

Confusion was evident on your face, but you were grateful for the compliment anyway, "Thank you!"

You went back to packing your bag. He was nothing short of lost, fumbling hard with no desire to be upfront and equipped with no other reason to speak with you.

The proximity granted him the clarity to see that you were taller than he thought. Your face was much softer up close, your smile way cuter than the grimace you wore for most of the game. You were too nice for breaking through so many blocks and scoring so many points.

When you realized he was still standing there, you zipped up your bag and faced him again, grasping at straws for something to say. You glanced at his jacket.

"Oh! You play for Karasuno?"

He evaded your gaze shortly after meeting it. He nodded and put his hands in his pockets.

It wasn't necessarily a call-out; you realized his team had triumphed over your brother's earlier today only right after asking him. He must've been able to avoid suspicion in all the commotion.

"What do you play?" You pressed.

"Setter," He answered a little straighter.

He certainly was a good height. He met your gaze, which was more than you could say for most guys. You clocked him as a perfect stranger to start but as you glanced around his handsome features, you began to piece together those two facts-- something was off.

When you opened your mouth to ask for his name, all that came out was a startled reaction to an arm, heavy around your shoulders.

"Well, well, well!"

You rolled your eyes, "Oh my god..."

"If it isn't The King- here to rub our faces in his false win!"

Kageyama squinted, his nose a little scrunched at the nickname, the insinuation, but most of all the contact in front of him. This wasn't going at all to plan. It was like rock bottom was only getting dug deeper around him.

You shook off Oikawa's arm and, despite having no reason to, defended him, "He didn't say anything like that, Toru. Fuck off."

Oikawa huffed like the big baby he was and crossed his arms over his chest instead.

"He doesn't need to. That's just how he thinks."

"Stop projecting," Kageyama spat. He glanced between you now, wary of the fact that you might be dating.

"How do you know each other?"

You asked Toru, specifically.

When you shifted to look at him, there was a thick intensity to the air between them. It wasn't an enjoyable experience, having to brave the rigid atmosphere by yourself. It was like they needed a room.

"They were on the same team at Kitagawa!" A delightful blur of orange cut in.

After such a demanding, arduous game today, this labyrinth of a conversation and all the odd strangers were getting old, fast. You didn't have a whole lot of time to absorb every bit of information. So they went to the same middle school-- great. That did not explain a damn thing. Now this kid looked familiar, too.

Instead of keeping on that train, you took a big breath to introduce yourself to the shorter guy.

"Nobody asked you."

Your face fell. The ball of sunshine faded in a flash. Now everyone was stiff.

"That was mean." You stated, unable to let it slide after a moment of deliberation.

Kageyama looked shocked, like he either didn't realize what he said was cruel, or he didn't expect anyone to call him out on it. You figured it was the latter, given Hinata's sad, no-retaliation reaction.

"Are you Hinata?" You heard yourself guess. There were only so many 5'3 ginger players here- especially none that caused as much of a stir as him.

Hinata nodded fervently and you grinned with a hand outstretched, "Well, it's nice to meet the legend himself."

Delighted as he was, he didn't take your compliment in the slightest. He shook your hand with two smaller ones and you watched his blush spread right to his ears.

"Legend?! You're the legend! We saw your game- that was so awesome!! How do you put that much BOOM in your spike?! I didn't think--"

You laughed chiefly at the 'Boom,' then at his excited rambling.

When he said 'we,' you glanced to his dark-haired friend and pieced together that they must have been there together. He still looked like he was taking your comment personally.

It truly all fell apart at his feet. Oikawa was talking at him, but he couldn't hear a word. He watched past his shoulder as Hinata took his spot, dazzling you with his stupidity and enthusiasm with so much ease, so quickly. How did you know the runt and not the guy who threw his sets?

The thought occurred to him that he had something to learn from Hinata about talking to girls, but it pissed him off so bad that his expression begged a smartass comment.

"Woah- watch out, ugly. Your face might get stuck like that!" He cackled and jabbed a rigid finger at Kageyama's chest.

He choked when you threw a hard punch at him in the back. Hinata stopped rambling at your show of force and backed up a few steps.

"Stop being so childish! God, you're the fucking worst," You ignored his dramatic gasps of pain and looked right over Hinata's head to nod at his friend, "No wonder he doesn't like you."

Regardless of how mean the other guy was, you knew your brother was deserving of everything you said.

"I'm older than you!" He whined, "Ugh- Shit, that hurt! Don't talk to me like that--,"

It was only in this moment that Kageyama understood your dynamic was nothing to be competitive about. Oikawa was your older brother. As much as it was a cosmic 'Fuck you, Tobio,' he was relieved that your eligibility was up to speculation again. Your likeness to him was now obvious, and not a symptom of any familiarity effect.

"Then start acting like it," You rolled your eyes and ignored the yammering that ensued- you looked to that quiet, pretty boy.

He didn't even glance at Toru's impassioned blithering as soon as he felt your eyes on him, "What's your name? You never said."

"Kageyama." He muttered, soft and distant.

There was a faintness to his words, a cloudy preoccupation on his usually sharp expression whenever he addressed you. You understood his intentions now and couldn't help but feel flattered.

Once Toru realized he wasn't going to get any more attention, he deemed neither of the two idiots as a threat to you and joined his team further back into the hall. There was no way you'd entertain dating either of them, anyway.

"So," You spared a glance back long enough to know he wasn't returning, "What were you really here for?"

Kageyama looked a little shell-shocked. His mouth hung open a moment, and he glanced at the floor near your feet. His eyes trailed back up in a way that could've been incriminating, but you decided not to comment on it.

"I just- wanted to say good job. Really. Your technique... is cool."

He was so obvious. You failed to bite back a smile at his -seemingly rare- sincerity.

"It's awesome," Hinata emphasized. When you looked at him, he visibly tightened and felt the need to disguise it with more words, "Man, I wish I could hit as hard as you!"

A shy laugh found you- you covered it with your hand. Kageyama wished you wouldn't.

"I could show you sometime, if you want," You offered. Any excuse to play again was appealing, especially with someone who had this much energy.

He gasped and began speaking with only Kageyama in a big, animated fashion.

A teammate of yours tapped you to let you know your team would be leaving for the bus, soon. Before that, you hadn't noticed how much the crowd was thinning out. There were only a few of you left and you knew you needed to go soon.

You looked at your brother, eyeing your little trio from afar. He wouldn't leave without knowing you were alone and unfollowed. Especially with his antagonistic opinion on Karasuno, in general.

"I can give you my number if you want to set something up. I- really gotta get going."

Hinata's eyes grew wide and sparkly with joy- you could tell he appreciated the offer on a few levels. He quickly fumbled around for his phone and you exchanged numbers.

Kageyama eyed you like a hawk, but you pretended not to notice until you pulled away.

A brief glance at him was all it took to send him back to a broody, avoidant mess.

"Just send me a text when you wanna meet up, okay?" You slung your bag and pushed on his shoulder playfully before jogging away to catch your friend.

There was only a brief moment of silence while the pair walked to rejoin their team.

"I'll break your legs if you don't give me her number."

It didn't put the fear of God in him the way he wanted it to. Hinata, equipped with newfound courage and a dash of arrogance, laughed instead.

"What are you gonna do with it? She won't want a text from you--" He evaded the first swat, got clipped on the second, and almost dropped his phone when Kageyama lunged for his phone a third time.

Before he could succeed in a fourth attempt, Hinata took off in a sprint towards their exit with Kageyama lagging behind.

It was easier to dodge the swarms of other teams and visitors with his smaller frame, but once they reached the end of the hall, it would be up to the mercy of their team to hear his pleas and save him.

♕ VIP ♕

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist

want a part 2 or got any requests?

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

Alright, BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Three: Spider-Man Kiss is up on AO3, too! It's dumb as hell, someone needs to pay Eddie to deal with these two. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary.

The rock-climbing gym isn’t too busy, because it’s a Tuesday and the middle of the day. Buck, Tommy, and Eddie are probably the biggest group there, and they’re definitely the loudest. There was no way this was going to turn into anything but a race with increasingly ridiculous conditions so they might have a chance at beating Tommy.

Buck and Eddie are fit, they’ve had to climb up and down buildings, they're on ladders all the time, they’ve done their fair share of rappelling into dangerous situations, but they’re not doing medevac out of canyons, ravines, and mountains as often as Tommy does. He’s an absolute beast and only lost one race because he’d gotten a penalty for not skipping the right hold. Buck had laughed at his perturbed expression and given him a consolation butt grope while Eddie was busy doing a victory lap.

“We never stood a chance,” Eddie says, sighing.

“Nope,” Buck says, but he can’t sound glum because of how his boyfriend’s ass looks in the harness.

He gets gently shoved by Eddie, who clearly clocks the dreamy tone of his voice. “Nuh-uh, we’re getting burgers after this, I’m not getting ditched so you two can hook up somewhere. Eyes down, Buckley.”

Tommy smacks the top of the rock wall and looks over his shoulder with a cocky grin. “Time?”

“Shut up, you won by like five seconds,” Eddie calls back with a wave of disgust.

As Tommy rappels down, Buck hands off the rope to Eddie and steps closer with the intention of steadying him when he reaches the ground, but then Tommy stops about two-thirds of the way down and looks back at him. Buck steps back just in case he has to grab the rope with Eddie, but Tommy doesn't look like he's struggling.

“Can I fulfill a two decade old fantasy real quick?” he asks.

Buck squints suspiciously. “Here?”

Tommy grins. “Yes.”

"I'm not being charged as an accessory to public indecency," Eddie says, and Buck elbows him.

“Yeah, alright,” Buck says to his boyfriend, grinning as he steps closer to the wall again, ready for whatever Tommy proposes. “What’d you have in mind?”

Tommy comes down a little further and does a sort of lunge against the wall, tipping himself backward until his face is hanging in front of Buck’s and his toes are hooked under one of the holds.

“Oh, my god,” Eddie says faintly. "Really?"

“What are you doing?” Buck asks, laughing.

“I showed you this movie,” Tommy reminds him, and Buck feels a lightbulb go off. He'd actually seen this one as a kid, forgotten almost everything about it, and rewatched it with Tommy without alerting him to the fact that, yes, he was eleven when Spider-Man came out and he had actually seen it with Maddie.

When he steps forward and holds Tommy’s head in his hands, he scratched his fingers through Tommy's hair as he kisses him sweetly. There’s minimal, respectable tongue, because they're in public and there are underpaid gym employees around and also Eddie is like five feet away and has already dealt with a lot of their second honeymoon phase bullshit today. There’s also no rain, which is probably for the best, it looked uncomfortable in the movie for the actor.

It’s strange not having to tilt to avoid crashing their noses together, and Buck smiles when he feels Tommy sigh through his nose against his own chin. When he steps back, Tommy looks dazed. He hopes it’s from the kiss and not the blood rushing to his head.

“Aren’t you supposed to go save New York now?” Buck teases.

“Nah, just the greater Los Angeles area,” Tommy replies cheekily, smiling. Seeing the scrunchy expression upside-down is adorable. Buck comes in and kisses him again before stepping back once more.

Tommy moves himself back to a vertical position and drops down to his feet, and Buck is there to unhook him. He kisses him gently then, too, because Spider-Man also got kisses when he was right-side up.

When he turns to Eddie, his best friend looks thoroughly done with both of them but does hold his phone up. “I did get that on video. You’re welcome. Buy me a burger.”

“I will buy you so many burgers,” Tommy says, greedily reaching for Eddie’s phone. “And fries, a milkshake, whatever you want.”

“You’re such a fucking nerd, Kinard,” Eddie says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll take onion rings instead.”

Buck leans in and peers at the video, and yeah, okay, he does get a fluttery feeling in his stomach when he sees it. He’s definitely putting it on Instagram and backing it up on every cloud he can get his hands on.

“We’re so cute,” he sighs, leaning against Tommy.

“We’re adorable,” Tommy agrees. “Jesus, I am also never wearing grey shorts when we come here again.”

“Yeah, I’ll crop your bulge out of the Instagram post.”

“Oh, god, give me my phone,” Eddie groans.

–

Buck posts the video with the caption: Went to the gym and found a friendly neighborhood Pilot-Man. Might keep him forever.♥️

firepilotTK This implies I was bitten by a radioactive pilot and gained the abilities of a pilot through their venom. Which is exactly how I got my job, actually. firepilotTK ♥️♥️♥️♥️

[mellowsadistic]

Before & After - Daddy's Girl

Set in the world of The Magician’s Game.

***

Lucy Thompson was a strident feminist, an activist with a reputation across her college campus both for her good looks and for her habit of biting the head off any man who tried to flirt with her. With her beautiful face and hourglass figure, she naturally drew the eyes of all the men in her classes – but there was nothing Lucy hated more than the male gaze, as she wrote about frequently in her Critical Theory essays. She couldn’t stand the idea that people saw her as a mere sex object, and there was nothing she hated more than men who assumed she must secretly want to be “put in her place” by a big, strong man like them.

Unfortunately for her, to the Magician’s mind, there’s nothing more enjoyable than taking a strong-willed, empowered woman and making her fight for her adulthood, so naturally Miss Thompson made the ideal candidate for one of his twisted games. She played the game well, however, avoiding all but a minor thumbsucking penalty and making it all the way to the final round before finally losing in a nursery rhyme sing-along contest.

Tired of her constant ranting about the evils of the patriarchy, the Magician decided that Lucy needed a little help changing her attitude towards men. With a snap of his fingers, he gave her a hardcore diaper fetish and an overpowering Daddy kink that soon had her squirming on the floor with one hand stuck down the front of her pants, imagining herself being forced into diapers and made to live as a dumb toddler forever. Then the Magician gave her the choice; she could return to her normal life without so much as losing her continence, or he could strip her of all her bladder and bowel control and let her live with him as his full-time adult baby girl…

Lucy’s New Life

Lucy moaned around her thumb and humped her thickly padded crotch desperately against her teddy bear. Her squishy nappy felt delightful against her pussy. It was soaked with pee, just the way she liked it. Her face burned with humiliation at what she was doing, but that just made her pussy even wetter. The old her would have died with shame if she could’ve seen herself now, grinding her sopping wet Pampers on her stuffed animals. But it was the only way a stupid, horny diaper girl like her could get off. She let out another slutty moan.

“Uh-oh,” came a deep male voice from above her. “I think someone’s being a naughty little girl…”

Lucy felt a powerful rush of arousal. She loved the way Daddy talked to her, like she was a particularly dim-witted four-year-old. She hated him too, hated the way he’d turned her into a diaper-wearing freak, the way he’d stolen her future and reduced her to a life of bottle-feeds and early bedtimes, spankings and nappy changes. But another part, just as strong, thought it was the hottest thing ever. She looked up, and her nether regions pulsed with pleasure at the sight of his handsome face, his sadistic smile.

“Does Daddy need to pull off your diaper and spank your naughty bottom, Lulu?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lucy shook her head hurriedly from side to side, but she couldn’t help sucking her thumb lustily at the thought of being turned over Daddy’s lap, having her nappy pulled down, getting her plump bare bottom smacked over and over again until it turned bright pink…

“Are you sure?” he asked, a smirk playing around his lips. “Your Nanny told me she caught you doing something naughty this morning too.”

Lucy’s face went even redder.

“Did you really try to sneak a wet diaper out of the pail and put it on?” he asked, sounding deeply amused.

Lucy thought she might faint with the humiliation. She gave her teddy an extra hard hump and nodded.

“Silly girl,” said the Magician, reaching out and patting her padded rear. “If you want playtime in your icky used nappies then all you have to do is ask. Daddy already knows what a disgusting, depraved little girl you are.”

Lucy groaned and shut her eyes, still grinding on her bear. She was getting so close to orgasm now. But then there was a sudden pressure in her bottom, and she gasped around her thumb. Instinctively she tried to clamp down, to hold it in, but that wasn’t something her body was capable of anymore. Instead, she barely felt it as a big, yucky mess filled her diaper. The Magician started to laugh, and Lucy humped her teddy bear faster and faster, even as she grimaced with revulsion. The mess in the back of her pants felt disgusting. It was so gross and stinky and babyish.

She could have walked away, she told herself. She could have been a normal woman, or at least a woman who could control when she peed and pooped. But now she was just a big, smelly baby who needed nappies on her butt 24/7. A naughty, overgrown toddler who needed a Daddy to keep her in her rightful place… and she always would be. She moaned again. How could she have chosen this?! With one final, desperate thrust of her hips, Lucy had a shuddering orgasm in her soaked and stinky diaper and slumped over her teddy bear, gasping for breath.

As the euphoria began to fade, the familiar shame and self-disgust started to creep over her, and she buried her face in her teddy’s soft fur. But when her Daddy bent down, kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “That’s my girl,” the tingling started in her pussy all over again.

[goldfades]

🍯 angry jack hughes (like after a rough game)

𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬) | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 840

♡ ─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion! rough jack, praise with a sprinkle of degradation, backshots and ummm nothing else i believe?

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay this was SOO hot but idk if i did this justice bc i wasn't in the mood to write rough smut BUT LMK YOUR THOUGHTS! also looking for a beta reader for my writing, pls lmk if ur interested!

Jack was pissed, and that was an understatement. The tension had started from the beginning, up until the final buzzer rang throughout the arena, Jack was angry. The referee was obviously trash and the players were assholes, they were aggressive and unrelenting, pushing the boundaries of a "fair game" to the breaking point. The hits were quick and hard, each one more bone-crushing than the other.

Jack felt the impact of every hit throughout his body, he knew that every hit was going to bruise. But it wasn't just the physicality of the game that got under his skin; it was the blatant disregard for the rules, the dirty plays and the cheap shots. The referee, if you could call him that, was blind to the chaos on the ice, turning a blind eye to blatant penalties and letting the game spiral out of control. Obvious slashes, cross-checks, and trips went uncalled, leaving Jack and his team alone.

But all of that didn't even matter now as he was balls-deep in you, letting out all his frustrations out on you. His hand gripped your throat as he pounded you into the mattress, the headboard slamming the wall with each relentless thrust. His head fell back as you clenched around him, his blue eyes blown out completely. Your legs hung off his shoulders as he fucked you harshly, not letting you move.

Every thrust was met with a loud moan drawing from your bruised lips, making Jack feel somehow even harder. "Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good."

You couldn't even respond in any way, shape or form at this point, you were way too fucked out. Your whole body was hot to the touch, sweat dripping from your hairline and your cheeks a warm color. As soon as Jack walked into your home, he grabbed you and went straight to your bedroom - and you weren't complaining. Jack wasn't usually the rough type but when he was, it was absolutely mind-blowing.

Your mouth hung open as he fucked you dumb, you couldn't even think straight. Your head was spinning with desire and all you could think about was how you wanted this to last forever. Jack began to slow down and you let out a whine. "Turn around."

Jack's voice was hoarse as he spoke and even though you felt like if you were to get up, you'd fall, you still obliged. You turned around and put your face on the warm pillow, arching your back up. Jack held you by the hips and quickly slipped back in, causing another loud moan to escape your chapped lips. You were so sensitive and sore but you knew Jack wasn't in the mood to hear it so you just took his cock, like you were meant to.

"Fuck," Jack groaned as he bottomed you out. His hand found your hair and immediately pulled up, giving you a sloppy kiss before he began thrusting in and out of you. You whined into the kiss as he let go of your hair, focusing on absolutely wrecking you.

His pace was just as rough as before, except now you really had no choice but to let him. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as he pounded into you, trying to ground yourself somehow. "Such a slut for me, hm?"

You nodded mindlessly at his degrading words as he kept his thrusts harsh and deep. His hand found your head once again, pushing it into the pillow as he began to pound into you harder and quicker, his hips snapping against your ass. The quicker his thrusts were, the more overwhelmed you felt; you felt like you couldn't even control your own body but again, you weren't complaining.

"Jack, please." You whined out for nothing in particular as he kept fucking you into the mattress.

"Fuck, it's okay." Jack rasped out. "I got you, baby."

His sweet words in contrast with how rough he was fucking you, you felt like your legs were gonna give out any second. Jack felt himself draw closer and closer to an orgasm and he wasn't gonna stop now. His thrusts were becoming sloppy but rough as your cunt clenched around him, he couldn't help but groan. "So close."

You began to feel light-headed as he kept his pace rough, you knew that you were going to cum any second now. Jack pushed your head into the pillow as you cried out, becoming more desperate for some kind of release. "Cum for me, baby."

That was all you needed, you came around his cock as you sobbed out, your tears of pleasure drenching the pillow beneath you. Your pussy was sensitive as Jack kept pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm. "S-slow down,"

Jack ignored your pleads as he kept fucking into your cunt, your felt your body become limp in his hands. With every snap of his hips, you let out a whimper. A few more deep thrusts and Jack was cumming inside of you, slowly riding out his high.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[flowerygrdn]

Hello! Can we have Y/N insisting on Zach Maclaren's games or practices, suddenly he gets hit or hurt since he was intrigued by her presence. Fluff, cute, maybe dumb ;)

i'm gonna assume you meant assisting but yes ofc!

click, click, hit! | z. maclaren

「 pairing: zach maclaren x reader 」

warning: player injury and fluff (also a lot of soccer terminology, since I used to play lol.)

summary: y/n works as a sports photographer for zach's soccer team. he ends up getting injured...because he was a little distracted by her presence.

a/n: send in more zach/drew/rafe request!!!!

---

*click*

I got the perfect shot of Alford scoring. I smile at my camera as the team surrounds him in celebration. As of right now, we're tied, 2-2. The stress of trying to get the perfect shot while also wanting to watch and see whether or not we're going to win is high. Not to mention it's cold as hell out here and I'm scared my camera is going to slip out of my gloved hands.

The team resets and Maclaren kicks off. I start following the team down the field. Honestly, the other team isn't even really trying. Maclaren goes to strike the ball and I zoom in to get the perfect shot.

*click*

Another perfect shot right as his cleat hits the ball. I smile to myself as the goalie lets the ball slip past his fingertips and the ball enters the goal. Everyone crowds around Maclaren this time, the left-wing even jumps on his back.

"Hey, y/l/n, can you possibly get a video of this next play?" The coach asks. I hum and set my camera to video mode. They reset and, once again, Maclaren kicks off. I start following the team down the field again. I zoom in on Maclaren and as he goes to kick the ball, the defender uses his arm to shove Maclaren on the ground. He lands on his hand and then rolls over in pain. I hear a whistle blow and everyone runs towards Maclaren.

"That's a penalty!" I yell towards the referee. All the coaches -- along with me -- rush onto the field and crowd around the injured player.

"y/l/n, do you have that video?" I nod and they tell me to show the referee. I do as I am told and they allow our team to make a penalty kick. We have to take Maclaren off the field since he is injured, even if it is just his wrist.

"I'm fine. I can still play!" He protests.

"Trust me, superstar. The way you landed, you shouldn't be doing anything too active." I argue as we walk him over to the medics. I watch to make sure he gets there safely and then I go back to video the penalty kick

-- zach's pov --

Superstar? There's no way she just gave me a nickname. y/l/n has been working for us for a few months now, and every time I see her I can't help but get distracted. Which is probably why the defender took advantage and pushed me. I may have been looking a little too long at her, maybe even trying to impress her. Look, she had a camera out. Her own camera that she bought, so yes I did want her to have some sick footage of me scoring a goal.

The medics are icing my wrist and asking me a bunch of questions about how I'm feeling. My eyes, however, are following the girl with a monopod and a camera as she runs up and down the field to keep up with the team. Man, she can keep up with us really well. Though she is visibly shivering. I guess it is cold.

The game ended and we won, the team came over and celebrated with me for a bit before I got up and walked away. I was looking for a certain person before my eyes finally landed on her. y/l/n was talking to coach and showing him the footage and pictures she got of us. She smiles and looks up at him for approval. I finally gain some courage and walk up to her.

"Hey, coach. Hey y/l/n." I smile at both of them. She smiles wide at me and does a cute little wave.

"Hey, Zach! Make sure you rest that arm and great job today." He pats my shoulder and walks away.

"How's that wrist, Maclaren?" Her voice is full of concern and she lightly grabs my bandaged wrist.

"It feels a lot better. Do you mind if I see the shot of my tumbling?" I ask with a little chuckle. She smiles and steps in front of me. Her back is nearly pressed against my chest and she brings the camera up and into my view so I can watch the replay with her.

"Wow, I really took a fall." She turns around and giggles as she looks up at me.

"Just a little." Her smile is probably the most beautiful thing I've seen. She seems so sweet.

"So...y/l/n, I was wondering...if you wanted...only if you wanted to! Do you maybe wanna...go out with me...sometime?" My words come out a lot less confident than I'd prefer, but hey, at least I got the words out. There's a moment of awkward silence before her smile turns even bigger and she moves closer to me.

"Sure, but only if you win next week's game without injuring yourself." She laughs.

"Oh?" I smirk down at her.

"Mhm, do we have a deal?" I hesitate for a moment. Who am I kidding? I'm Zach freaking Maclaren. I can win that game with my eyes closed.

"Deal, y/l/n." I'm met with a kiss on my cheek as she walks away. I assume that was my good luck kiss. Damn this is gonna be a hard game.

---

[alchemistc]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @liminalmemories21, who Doesn't Go Here but whom I am going to try to tempt further into the fold by choosing a hockey heavy snippet just for funsies. Just to see. Also I couldn't decide where to clip this so... enjoy like a whole game.

Tommy shifts his weight and settles the nerves, accepts the smack to the back of his helmet, and watches Binnington throw a fit between the pipes when the stripes don’t call the puck trickling in behind his net an icing.

They’re five minutes in and everyone’s getting testy. He can feel it.

This is where Tommy does his best work. It’d been a task, ten years ago, a part of the job he’d accepted because he was good in a fight and fully capable of taking a few punches. Under the thumb of the old boys club it’d just been expected of him — the ability to throw his weight around was what had kept him from complete obscurity in a lower league that would have worn him down much sooner. Tommy’s fists and his ability to twist his shoulder just in time to knock a guy flat on his ass were the only things that mattered when his agent settled him down with two offers and he’d chosen the team most likely to make his dad proud.

Never mind that his dad had come to three games when Tommy was a bright eyed-rookie, seen Tommy get his ass handed to him by a man twice his size, and stopped bothering to show up.

He’d turned that around, in recent years. Longer stints with the affiliate teams, less time under the microscopic eye of the national press (even as a role player he’d had his moments under that eye) — he’d learned when to pull his punches, when to turn the other cheek, and when to lock his ankles and aim for the fucking chest. He had friends up and down the continent who knew him as the guy who’d take them all out to dinner after a bad loss, find something stupid and entertaining for them to do after, and then go into the next game with a chip on his fucking shoulder.

There were three kids with insane star power in the league who had him on speed dial even though he hadn’t played with them for a year or more, because for some fucking reason he had the ability to talk them off a ledge when the pressure drove them towards it.

He’d never tell a soul that Crosby still sent him gym selfies so they could compare the relative size and plumpness of their ass during the offseason.

There was still a reverence for real enforcers, in the league, even if they’d fallen by the wayside as teams got smaller and quicker. They were more a deterrent than anything else these days, but that usually meant Tommy got to lumber around on the ice for a few minutes a game, remembering what it had felt like the first time he’d laced his skates and stepped out to a roaring crowd, before he took another dumb penalty and spent the next forty-five minutes riding the bench. He’d been instructed not to take any dumb penalties, tonight, because St. Louis didn’t tend to get sloppy until the game was on the line.

Thirty-six minutes in, Schenn takes a chop at Diaz’s knee under the guise of a poke check and the home crowd gets loud, and ornery.

Nash smacks him on the shoulder on their way back down the tunnel for the third, eyes a little wild, and Tommy immediately recalls the old highlight reels of Nash shaking hair out of his eyes while he squared off against a guy twice his size, motor-mouthing his way into getting the other guy to take the first swing. Minnesotans and their right hooks weren’t something to fuck around with. Too much time in the cold not to have a little crazy in them.

Tommy rolls his tongue over his teeth, tilts his head to where Diaz and Buckley are bent over the boards together on the bench, already prepared to hop out the moment Bannister tries to get a match-up that’ll tilt in the Blues favor.

Nash sends him out with the rest of the fourth line, and Tommy doesn’t waste any time.

It’s immediately clear that they’ve all been warned to keep level heads. Schenn won’t engage, Buchnevich barely acknowledges Tommy when he hip checks him into his own bench — he goes ass over tea kettle and Tommy gets nothing more than a few shifty looks and some smack talk from the guys sitting.

There’s an easy way around that, though.

Tommy clambers back over the boards and waits out his next shift, practically vibrating with it when a shot pings off the crossbar and Greenway skates right through Binnington’s crease chasing after it.

Kyrou tries to take out Buckley against the boards, looks livid when Buck skates just free of it, and Buck does some ankle breaking in a rush to the goal. It hits the post, and when the whistle gets blown fifteen seconds later Tommy watches level heads not prevail when Binner says something snippy to Kyrou that has him rolling his eyes on the way back to the bench.

It takes another minute and a half for Nash to set up the line matches the way he wants them, but as Greenway skates off for relief and Schenn’s line stays stuck in their own zone spinning their wheels, Bobby smacks a thick hand down on Tommy’s shoulder. “Kinard, you’re up!”

Tommy takes an awkward pass once he’s past the blue line and goes full tilt towards the net. Full tilt for Tommy isn’t anything special, but it’s not what the Blues are expecting, and most of them have been out for two plus minutes at this point, hemmed in by their third and fourth lines just shoveling the puck back in every time it nears the blue line.

The snow shower he aims at the goal, half an inch into the crease when he fully stops, isn’t anything to write home about, but it has it’s intended effect. Already short on patience, Binnington watches Schenn intercept and send the puck careening down the ice — a third icing in a row — and lashes out with the butt end of his stick, a glancing blow Tommy laughs at as the rest of the players start to circle up at the whistle. Tommy’s laugh pisses him off. The laugh pisses him off so much.

It’s so fucking easy to rattle him with he’s already two goals down. There’s some shoving, a few hockey hugs to keep things from escalating, but Panikkar has apparently cottoned on to Tommy’s plan, and he says something under his breath that has Sundquist in his face, and Binnington skating around behind the net in irritation while the zebras break up a few of the more reticent shoving matches.

Tommy wins about one face-off out of every fifty, but that’s not the reason he’s bending across from Schenn now at the circle.

“We could end this before he loses all his cool and breaks his stick on the pipes,” Tommy goads, and the linesman with the puck rolls his eyes towards Schenn. The other man shifts, readjusts the grip on his stick. “Or I could just keep taunting him for something that isn’t even his fault, this time.”

Schenn’s not a particularly bad dude, just a little gun shy about fighting when his coach has clearly told them all not to engage.

Tommy wants him to fucking engage.

Schenn waits for the puck to drop, and miraculously, it’s Tommy who scoops it up to a fresh-faced Buckley just in time for the man to wind up and sneak it through about four bodies on it’s way over Binnington’s shoulder.

It takes Tommy a few breathless seconds to remember to skate in and hug the rest of his team, and another five to realize that technically the assist is his. He stopped caring about stats so much the second year in a row that his time in the box exceeded his time on ice for more than five games out of the season, but it sits there, in the back of his mind, his name next to Buckley’s on the score sheet.

And then Schenn gets sloppy again, a check into the boards that has Panikkar limping back towards the bench while the crowd boos the refs, and Tommy doesn’t give Schenn any time to think about it when Nash sends him out in the immediate chaos.

He catches Kyrou mid-ice with his head down, a shoulder right to the chest that sends him reeling back, skates leaving the ground as he crashes backwards, and Schenn is on him in the next five seconds, gloves off and a resigned look in his eyes. Tommy grins and shifts his weight back, tossing his own gloves and reaching for the neck of Schenn’s sweater.

i know it's late so consider this a no pressure tag for Thursday Tidbits: @beefcakekinard @rcmclachlan @kirkaut @xofemeraldstars @princessfbi

[3416]

the thing is, i wouldn't be nearly as bothered about mitch not being on the top line if it wasn't being treated as some kind of proof that he's never been good enough to play there and that it hurts the team or drags auston down when he does. i don't care about domi ultimately, he's an effective player (when he's not taking boneheaded penalties) and obviously it helps to spread out our best guys to make each line that little bit harder to play against by forcing the other team to decide how to matchup. whatever. i don't agree with keefe's choices there but i get the intent.

what i do care about is one of the best players this franchise has ever seen being treated like some kind of anchor holding the team (and auston specifically) back from achieving greatness and using domi's success with auston (BECAUSE of auston tyvm) to paint him as some selfish jealous (genuinely wtf @ this fanfiction in particular coming from an actual media guy) brat pouting over being ~demoted~ when he's never not done what has been asked of him (which is literally fucking everything) and has always been fully on board any time he's been paired with johnny!! or anyone else!! like these are all mitch's guys!!! he loves them and this team /so much/!!!! like i genuinely can't imagine the list of things he loves more than being a leaf is very long

i'm just so tired of so many (non-tumblr) fanspaces being dominated by people who have made an entire personality out of treating him like one of the worst things that's ever happened to the leafs (and, again, auston specifically) because idk they hate his dumb dad (welcome to the club weirdos!!!) and/or can't "forgive" him for his contract. even the critique of him in the playoffs is overblown in comparison to the rest of the team and the goalposts for what it means to be a ~playoff performer~ always seem to find a way to shift as needed to single him out as some kind of unique failure among the group which.. rme for all time

anyway sorry for venting lmao it's just such a bummer but WHATEVER here's to mitchell daniel marner having the best damn playoffs of his damn life!!!!!!!! go leafs go

ohhh anon. so many things i can (and will) say here, but you and i are totally on the same wavelength, lol. that's what has made this stretch so much worse imo... auston on a hot streak with two mid guys and workable chemistry (for now) all around, and we try spreading out the "offense" but actually... for the leafs... i think spreading the offense is less what we're doing w 1634 and more... shifting defensive responsibility off of our 'top' line and giving them easier matchups by putting the tougher ones with the mcmann-jt-marner line bc mitch is there now to take on some more defensive responsibility that isn't doable by players like willy/whoever else plays rw there. (which annoys me in it's own way bc it makes the 'top' line look more impressive stat wise while not even dealing with the most dangerous 'top' line on the other team, lol but.. it's still gonna require auston to be On Top of it all the time bc he's by himself defensively.. only reason it annoys me is the discourse afterward too like anyway). mitch and auston are our best all around players by quite a bit, lol, so i get WHY splitting them up works well too, but when people get mad that they're together so much... when they've proven to work better and be more dangerous year after year as a duo... i mean, peoples anger should be at the rest of the lineup that sometimes doesn't pull their own weight in that regard, lol. i get the experiment we're running rn. i'm not confident it will work, but we will see. i don't care if it does or doesn't... doesn't change the fact that ultimately, i know they want to play together the most and that hasn't changed bc of some randos that came in this year so. i genuinely think auston requests to play with mitch often after not being allowed to for a couple years, and this year he's sucking it up for the playoffs and trying something different for the sake of the team.

as for the way a lot of people treat mitch as expendable... it's so frustrating to me too... just the double standards abt him vs anyone else are insane. even tonight, seeing people lose their fucking minds over max reposting a fan's hype video without credit and assuming he made it (?? lol) and drooling all over themselves about how he "has the passion", but like... mitch had a video made last year and people were telling him to get off social media and perform better in the playoffs in the exact same spaces like. if he even comes on social media near the playoffs, it's always just hateful. honestly.... so many leaf fans don't deserve him and don't deserve to see a cup in their entire lifetimes either, lol. it makes my relationship with this team so much more complicated to have such a hate for the fanbase like that. like . this year, i just care so much less about the team as a whole too. i'm less connected to the overall results, lmao. i love the leafs and want my guys specifically to be able to win the cup in their lifetime more than anything, but i realllyyy don't care about some of these ppl on our team and i hate how the worst fans in this fanbase feel so vindicated over the dumbest ugliest shit. like i'd give anything to not have to see braindead opinions for a single day. as much as i'm rooting for them, if this isn't the year... well. we move, lol. i wouldn't die! (which is exactly why they'll prob do it this year lol) i'll feel competitive while watching the playoffs, esp vs the bruins, but like... whatever happens happens man. my men will be coming back and i hope some other ones won't, regardless of playoff results. sometimes it's even less about the player himself and more about the idiots attached.

all i literally care about this year is mitch's performance since we're going into a contract year for him. nothing he could possibly do would get people off his back but that, and somehow his points never seem to matter in the playoffs bc they're in games we're already winning ?? but yeah. the willy is our best playoff performer narrative makes me fucking laugh man........ like people will lower their standards and move their goalposts and do ANYTHING to make it seem like mitch is cancerous and the reason we keep losing and everyone else steps up when he doesn't and it's just a fucking lie. morgan is the only one with visible elevation in the playoffs imo, and . idk. maybe the way the team's structured rn and shifting players to different lines will work. maybe it won't. we won a round not doing it last year, so it's not like that's THE make or break thing and we haven't even seen this lineup play a single meaningful game in the last month fnlkdsjf or a singular playoff game so. it's all a LOT of big talk. at the end of the day.. if the leafs ever make it to the cup.. itll be 1634 passing it to each other and their names next to each other and that's all i want for them, honestly. leafs duo of all time regardless of the dumbasses the 23-24 season has emboldened.

[kindheart525]

What are Nee and Dur’s adult lives like?

I’m so glad you asked, thank you so much! I previously joked that Nee and Dur were “in and out of jail and fleeing from the law” as adults, but that’s not exactly true. In reality they’re doing very well, no longer going on grandiose Mr. Frog-style rampages that make national news but now settled down and running a humble little laundromat. They’ve really turned themselves around.

That’s what the public sees, anyway. The real story is that their antics got them in a lot of trouble that only mounted as they got older. Their habit of biting people as children evolved into serious criminal offenses as they approached adulthood, in a lifestyle that was not sustainable. See, their childhood idol Mr. Frog can get away with such extreme violence because he’s a beloved TV star and former President of the United States, but ordinary citizens like Nee and Dur don’t enjoy such immunity. It eventually came to a point where the law caught up with them and they were facing life in prison, or even the death penalty.

They got out of it, of course. Daddy Pim had to blow his life savings on legal fees, but he managed to get their life-ruining sentences whittled down to 5 years + community service, because money fixes everything in this society. However, the experience made both Nee and Dur realize that they couldn’t carry on committing crimes in the open like this, because Daddy Pim was now dry on legal funds and next time they wouldn’t be so lucky. Knowing his boys needed help getting back on their feet, Pim suggested they establish a charity or business of sorts that serves the community in a positive way, much like the Smiling Friends company does. It would teach them how to care for their fellow citizens and grow as critters, he reasoned. 

So here they are running a laundromat, helping the community keep their clothes clean while keeping their images clean. It totally isn’t a money laundering front. I mean, laundromat, money laundering? That’s too on the nose. They aren’t that dumb. And so what if customers randomly disappear sometimes? They just operate in a bad neighborhood! It’s just a coincidence that everyone who’s disappeared had a particularly bad experience with the laundromat, or perhaps expressed unfounded suspicion about the business’s integrity. All of that has nothing to do with Nee and Dur. No, the Pimling Brothers are better than that. They’ve changed!

In all seriousness, Nee and Dur could never truly live a life free of crime. They would rather die than be deprived of the thrill of immorality. After Pim inadvertently planted the seed, it was Nee’s idea to establish the laundromat and he is also the one who interacts with the public the most. He has a certain charisma that easily deflects suspicion and makes folks believe he’s trustworthy and innocent. It’s how he got himself and his brother out of trouble with their dad, teachers, and other authority figures when they were young, and the skill is still serving him well now. You’ll often hear of Nee offering free laundry services for the local fire department or paying for dinners for the local hospital staff. In this way he’s spreading smiles like Daddy Pim wanted, and he does genuinely enjoy it. Not enough to quit crime, but it’s a nice bonus. While Nee came up with the idea, Dur is the muscle behind it, working behind the scenes to keep things running, including engaging in all the shady business deals that are the true reason this laundromat exists. He’s the Saul Goodman type, able to weasel his way into all the best deals and to keep the exorbitant amounts of money flowing no matter how much he’s screwing over others. 

While Nee’s people skills would not amount to much without Dur’s undercover dealings, Dur would be nowhere without Nee’s ingenious ideas and excellent deflection skills that allow him to do the work he does without trouble. It’s what makes them such a great team, knowing exactly what the other needs to succeed without even having to say so. It’s that twin intuition. And of course, when their work makes it necessary to kill (the definition of “necessary” being VERY loose), they’re both all in just like their childhood hero, just with better cover-up skills.

Does Daddy Pim know what’s really going on? Or their sisters? How would this affect the Smiling Friends if the truth came out? None of that matters because they won’t get in trouble. They’ve learned from last time. Plus, their family members know better than to ask questions. Sure, Pim might start to worry a little when he reads an article about the latest unsolved murder in town, but that could have been anything. He ought not to be so mistrusting of his darling boys. They wouldn’t do that anymore. But if they did, he can’t save them this time, so he’d rather not know.

[kennyvparse]

What if Kent kept a chart of how many penalties/what kind of penalties the Aces got throughout the season?

(Minor spoilers from my “Up-and-Down and Barely Made” series)

Although Kent had mostly retired his binder from his rookie season, he still liked to look at it from time to time. He had to admire his organization and color coordination when it came to creating spreadsheets for players and teams.

He did love a good spreadsheet.

Since he had been out with an upper body for two weeks and was out for at least two more, he was bored out of his mind. He’d go to practices and get rehabbed. He would go to games and watch his team as calmly as he could, which usually lasted a whole 4 minutes into a period before he had to get up and take a lap around the concourse.

He started paying attention to the team’s penalties his second game in the box because A) it was a dumb penalty to take at a bad time in the game and 2) that would have never happened if he were on the ice. Or at least closer.

By the fourth game in the box he had gone through all of the team’s penalties during the season so far and catalogued them. After doing some calculations and determining which penalties weighed what on his specific scale, he put all of the information together in a nice, colorful, spreadsheet.

He really did love a good spreadsheet.

Especially if it was printed out on some nice card stock with some colorful ink with a good font.

This one needed to be seen.

When the team arrived in the locker room they all noticed something new on the whiteboard that Garrett had dutifully kept track of all the team fines. There was a sheet of paper that was laminated and taped to the bottom left corner. It was a table with everyone’s names, their penalty minutes, and some other statistics. The most eye-catching part of the spreadsheet was the color coded bar to the left of their game that was some shade of red, yellow, or green.

“What the shit is this?” Pierre-Louis asked, the color next to his name obviously red.

“What’s what?” Jeff asked, walking up and seeing the color next to his name some sort of yellow-green. Or green-yellow. “What the shit is this?” he asked.

This brought the entire team to the board one by one.

“Am I in trouble?” Pierre-Louis asked. “Does red mean I’m in trouble?”

“I don’t think so?” Payton said. “Coach never said anything, right?” Not that he had anything to worry about. The color next to his name was green.

“So what the hell is this?”

“Just ignore it,” Garrett replied.

“Easy for you to say. Your name is green. Like very green.”

Garrett walked over and pulled the laminated sheet off and tossed it on the floor. “There. It’s fine. Go shower. You all smell.”

Pierre-Louis went to grab it and brought it to his stall. “Why would someone make this if we weren’t supposed to learn something from it?” he asked.

“If Coach wants to tell us something, he’ll tell us,” Jeff said.

“Yeah. You’re right,” Pierre-Louis said, but he kept the card with him, looking it over. He really had been taking way too many dumb penalties lately. He’d need to change that.

Two games later, after returning from a short roadie, another sheet showed up.

“Red-orange!” Pierre-Louis said. “Not deep red! Let’s fucking go!”

“What?” Jeff said, walking over to the board. He looked at it and frowned. “What the hell?” His color changed from yellow-green to a yellow-orange. Sure he took a dumb penalty against the Sharks, but dumb penalties were to be taken because it was against the Sharks. “Who is doing this?”

Jeff looked around at his teammates who were all stripping down to shower after practice. Kent was in the corner talking to their coaches. He knew Kent was trying to negotiate getting on the ice sooner than his expected timeline.

Thank goodness the coaches were shaking their heads. They were going to let him take as much time as he needed to heal.

Jeff ripped the sheet off and tossed it into Pierre-Louis’s stall. He angrily took off his jersey with the thought that he was going to show whoever it was that was making these dumb spreadsheets that he was going to be better behaved for the next few games.

No one was expecting a sheet to show up after their next home game so seeing a new one put up was a surprise to almost everyone.

Pierre-Louis was the first to the board. “Orange! Fuck yeah!”

“Just take it down,” Jeff said.

“Hey, no. I want to see,” Payton said. “There’s someone more re…” His voice trailed off and he looked up at his brother.

“What?” Jeff asked.

“Nothing,” Payton said, handing it to Pierre-Louis.

“No, not nothing. Give me the thing, Sycs.”

Pierre-Louis held it out to him, but Payton grabbed it and tried to rip it in half. It did not go well. “Stupid. Fucking. Lamination,” he said as he struggled.

Jeff grabbed it and saw it. “Okay, who the fuck is doing this? These colors don’t even make sense!” he yelled as he saw his stats change and the color next to his name go more toward red. He stomped out of the locker room. “Darren!”

Garrett walked up to Kent who was sitting in his stall with his phone. He kicked Kent in the shin. “What are you doing?”

“Ow,” Kent said, looking up. “I’m ordering something to eat.”

“Not that. What are you doing with those spreadsheets?”

Kent looked up and smirked. “How did you know it was me?”

“Because no one has the time to do this. And no one likes making spreadsheets as much as you do. So, why are you doing this?”

Kent shrugged. “I’m bored.”

“Bored.”

“I haven’t made a good spreadsheet in a while.”

Garrett rolled his eyes. “You better be careful before you drive your team crazy with this.”

Kent’s smirk changed into a smile as Garrett walked away.

Kent really, really did love a good spreadsheet.

[l-norris]

The summerbreak is over and the Dutch GP is underway!

Honestly, I can feel the years subtracted of my life already, heh.

DISCLAIMER: Remember that this is just for shits and giggles, I'm not trying to actually hate on any of the drivers cuz all (most) of them are very dear to me!

As always - numbers in brackets = lap numbers

- Formation lap is on

- Welcome back to F1, where your hairs grey in a matter of seconds

- Mom I'm scared

- it fuckem wimdy

- heart rate through the roof, anxiety growing

- Lando don't bottle the start please🙏🏻

- It's lights out and away we go!

- ... UGHHH

- death, taxes, Lando bottling the start

- (not actually him but more like the car)

- Didn't even make it to the first turn this time

- 'Red Bull aren't fast' MY ASS

- To be fair Oscar's start was also kinda meh

- so much wheelspin

- Kevin locks up on lap 1 too

- Max pulls away (8)

- "Lando who are we racing?" Uuuuuh... everyone??

- Some battling and overtaking from Lewis (10)

- Spicy battle between Carlos and Pierre (11)

- "We are on Plan A"

- FERRARI🤨

- Just a quick note that Lando actually keeps up with Max

- Alex pits (13)

- Lando in DRS window

- Lewis is on the chase (16)

- It's getting spicy up front

- Boys. Behave.

- "There are no smiles on the Red Bull pit wall. Only grimaces." Good!

- Lando overtakes Max! (18)

- Masterpiece of an overtake

- Guanyu pits (20)

- Lando pulls away (21)

- Wind is picking up

- Bro I was looking away for two minutes and Lando is 3 seconds ahead??

- Lewis pits (24)

- Charles pits (25)

- George pits (26)

- Ferrari got their shit together also?

- rare Ferrari W

- Max pits (28)

- makes me nervous

- Lando pits (28)

- left front issue😀

- But he overcuts Max!

- Sheer, dumb luck, McLaren. Sheer, dumb luck.

- We currently have a McLaren 1-2

- Lando fastest lap (32)

- Only three people left who haven't pitted yet

- Hello McLaren? Are you gonna pit Oscar anytime soon?

- Now's the time (34)

- Charles is third in THAT SHITBOX?!

- Pierre unsafe release

- Lando is now 8 seconds ahead of Max (36)

- Lance speeding in pitlane

- Lando is now 9 seconde ahead of Max (38)

- Pre-Miami me would have an aneurysm

- Lance 5-second-penalty

- Oscar is in George's rear

- GET HIM!

- Oscar is now fourth

- Lando is now 10 seconds ahead of Max (40)

-Kevin gets OBLITERATED by MULTIPLE cars

- Alex is almost in the points

- Why is Max gaining all of a sudden

- Nevermind just a moment of weakness I guess

- Lando is now 11 seconds ahead of Max (44)

- Sorry I'll stop lmao

- Oscar is chasing down Charles

- While Carlos is stuck behind Checo

- Why are McLaren so positive that a Safety Car will come out (47)

- There hasn't been a single yellow flag or retirement so far what are you lot planning

- Carlos finally passes Checo

- Lewis pits (49)

- I know I said I'd stop but 13 SECOND LEAD?? INSANE (51)

- Bro's gonna be a whole pitstop ahead at the end of this

- Very demure. Very mindful.

- A few pitstops happen (54)

- 15 laps to go

- Nothing is happening (59)

- Rare Lando footage on Live TV (62)

- Lewis P14 to P8 btw

- Ferrari flop era is no more

- Fernando passes Nico (64)

- The rookie is in the points now

- Quick update: 18 seconds gap between Lando and Max (66)

- You're doing amazing sweetie

- Nor Ver Lec Podium looking real nice rn (67)

- 5 laps to go!

- Dead silence in the McLaren garage

- 20 SECOND LEAD NOW HOLY SHIT

- 3 laps to go!

- LET'S GO LANDO!

- FINAL LAP!

- RAAAAAAAAAAAH

- 21 SECONDS NOW

- ANY SECOND NOW!

- HE WINS IT!

- SECOND WIN FOR LANDO NORRIS

- POLE, WIN, FASTEST LAP AND DRIVER OF THE DAY!

- GRAND. SLAM.

- He's very calm, very collected.

- Weekend saved, thanks Lando👍🏻

- Also Charles is back on the podium

- No more 'Terrible day for Tifosi'

- CHAMPAGNE POP!

What. A. Race.

Awesome way to start back into the second half of the season. I'm on an all-time high right now, hahaha. Really happy for Lando, and also happy for Charles to be back on the podium!

[marta-bee]

So much for not talking politics. In fairness, this Tik Tok Ban story found me more than the other way around (through the family group chat), and it's legitimately interesting in several ways.

Most Americans probably know already, but if you missed it,

a) Tik Tok is owned by a Chinese company, and there's really no protections for how they share your data with the Chinese government.

b) So the US Congress passed a law that ByteDance (Tik Tok's owners) have to sell to a US-owned company because national security, or else, by 1/19.

c) "Or else" meaning TikTok couldn't be listed in US app stores. The app itself could still function if you already had it downloaded.

d) Mr. Trump was originally for the ban but suddenly became against it, even going to the SCOTUS to get an extension so he could arrange a sale once president. They refused. Because, you know, it was an agreed-upon and properly executed law with no constitutional implications.

e) Tik Tok shut down US access to the app last night, which (again) they're not required to do, displaying this message:

.... then re-allowed access hours later thanking "President Trump for providing the necessary clarity and assurance to our service providers that they will face no penalties providing TikTok." "Assurance" doesn't change the reality of the situation. He's not president yet, he can't issue an executive order yet so if access had ever been illegal it would still be illegal today, and an executive order wouldn't fix it anyway.

(In fairness, the president could provide a one-time ninety-day extension, but it's a certification operating within the context of the law as passed. There'd have to be evidence a sale to a US company was in the works. Which there's not because ByteDance doesn't want to sell. Trump couldn't just say "Tik Tok's legal again so suck it Congress," even after the inauguration.)

f) Elon Musk is also negotiating with China to allow Chinese citizens to access X. Surely that's completely unconnected. I'm not even sure why I'm mentioning it.

g) It's still not available for download on my phone.

h) A lot of the current users were already migrating to another, also Chinese-owned app.

There's something really funny about all this to me, about the multiple levels of sheer stupidity in this whole situation. Probably the most important take-aways long term is this feels very much like autocracy (the way Trump's so involved) and oligarchy (how Elon's own business interests with China seem so inescapably relevant). Also that Mr. Trump is an unbelievably soft touch. Xi, nevermind Putin, will eat him for lunch.

Also-also, if you care about your privacy and data security, stay off the 'Tok if you can. I'm not sure if this is a well-structured law, but the concern driving it seems real enough to me.

Also-also-also? My fellow citizens are dumb.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Mask bans are dumb, dangerous | Editorial - Published Sept 11, 2024

Sen. Jon Bramnick will be proposing a bill on Thursday to ban people from wearing masks at public gatherings in New Jersey. It’s part of a national trend: Republicans have been seeking to criminalize face masks even as COVID cases are surging, once again.

The idea, he says, is simply to discourage troublemakers like campus activists protesting Israel’s war in Gaza, or criminals on their way to hold up a store, from hiding their faces.

“This bill prohibits a person from wearing a mask while congregating in a public place with other people who are also masked or disguised,” it reads, listing a few notable exceptions, like Halloween.

After Jan. 6th, the FBI poured over video footage of the Capitol rioters, Bramnick notes; we want to be able to identify and track down people like that afterwards. That’s true, and his intentions are not malevolent. But this is a superficial policy that quickly falls apart on the details, and presents a clear danger to civil liberties.

Start with this basic question: What if a troublemaker simply decides to disguise his face with large sunglasses and a hat, instead? Are we going to criminalize sunglasses and hats, too? Where will it end?

Not to mention all the enforcement and constitutional problems that this bill presents. Even with an exception for people who wear masks for medical reasons, it’s a threat to personal freedoms, because it leaves it up to the cops to decide whether someone has a legitimate medical reason for wearing a mask at a public gathering.

How will they know that? It’s subjective. And based on past experience, we know what that means: Police will disproportionately stop and question Black and brown people, who have also been the most likely to continue wearing masks to protect against COVID-19.

And, as Jim Sullivan of the American Civil Liberties Union of New Jersey adds, this “overbroad and vague” bill “also gives law enforcement the ability to target people based on their political beliefs.”

If Republicans are trying to send a message, a more sensible way to do it would be to increase the penalties for anyone committing a crime in disguise – something that Bramnick says he would “100%” consider.

Good. Because in its current iteration, this bill would do little to deter actual criminals, while only further stigmatizing mask wearing for vulnerable people.

Ask anyone still masking because of a weakened immune system, or to protect a loved one, and odds are they’ve already encountered plenty of snide comments or hostility. Criminalizing masks won’t help. As the Washington Post reported:

“The day after the North Carolina House of Representatives passed its anti-masking bill in June in response to pro-Palestinian protests at the University of North Carolina, Shari Stuart said a man confronted her for wearing a surgical mask when she walked into an auto service center in the Raleigh area to get an oil change. After she tried to explain that she has Stage 4 breast cancer and a weakened immune system, Stuart said, the man called her a ‘f---ing liberal’ and insisted masks were now illegal. He later coughed on her and said he hoped the cancer would kill her.”

Nice. Adam Reich, a commuter advocate in New Jersey, still wears a mask in public places to protect himself and medically vulnerable loved ones from COVID, including his mother who recently died after a long battle with cancer, and fears a similar chilling effect here.

He is Jewish American, and laments that some Jewish legislators have gotten behind mask bans like this; they’re not effective in fighting antisemitism, he says, and may even further inflame the problem with their infringements on personal freedoms. And in the meantime, he adds, “This narrative against masking makes it more difficult for me in places where I need accommodation, because there’s this resistance.”

Add to that the frustration that he may now have to fight for “the ability to exercise my right to protest peacefully and safely at a gathering.” This is a bill, he says, that “undermines a valuable public health lesson for a political purpose.”

Right. Remember when former Gov. Chris Christie released an ad in 2020 in defense of mask wearing, after he ended up in the hospital ICU for a week with COVID, fighting for his life? “I think about how wrong it is to let mask wearing divide us, especially as we now know you’re twice as likely to get COVID-19 if you don’t wear a mask,” Christie said. “If you don’t do the right thing, we could all end up on the wrong side of history. Please, wear a mask.”

Or, at the very least, don’t criminalize someone else for wearing one.

[arpmemething2]

Loony Tunes Sentence Starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

“It’s supply and demand! They supply the ghost, and I demand the money!”

“And remember, 'mud' spelled backwards is 'dum'.”

"Go ahead! I’d love to see the audience boo you off the stage!”

“Consider yourself as lucky because you are getting another chance from me to draw a gun.”

“Go on! Shoot me again! I enjoy it! I love the smell of burnt feathers and gunpowder and cordite!”

“Jumpin' without a parachute? Kinda dangerous, ain't it?”

“Don’t think it hasn’t been a little slice of heaven…’cause it hasn’t!”

“I do so enjoy observing the flora and fauna of that tiny planet.”

“I knew I shoulda taken that left turn at Albuquerque!”

“You know, sometimes me conscience bothers me… but not this time.”

“It just goes to show ya that a one-eyed jack rabbit can beat a king.”

“I didn’t say I would be nice. I said I would try. It was too hard.”

"He’s about as sharp as a bowling ball."

"What's up doc?"

“Oh dear, now I shall suppose I have to use force.”

“Help me, please. I’m too moist and tender to retire.”

“Okay Okay I'm shuttin' up. Why should I continue to keep yappin' when I'm told to shut up. I'm not the kind that don't know when to stop.”

“Ho! Ha-ha! Guard! Turn! Parry! Dodge! Spin! Ha! Thrust!”

“I wonder what the poor bunnies are doing this season?”

“Don’t take life too seriously. You’ll never get out alive!”

"What a perfect time for me to go on a diet."

“When I say whoa, I mean whoa!”

“Brace yourself for immediate disintegration.”

“I don't want to be grown up anymore.”

"You wasted a wish! I wish that burrito was stuck on your big dumb nose!"

“Carrots are devine… You get a dozen for a dime, It’s maaaa-gic!”

“The way I run this thing you'd think I knew something about it.”

"Sssshh... Be vewwy quiet.  I'm hunting wabbit!"

"Champagne nights, tropical music and a heavy bank account!"

"Thufferin' thuccotash!"

“I’m in my own little word. But it’s okay, they know me here.”

"You rack'n frack'n varmint!"

“Oh, drat these computers. They’re so naughty and so complex. I could pinch them.”

"Well, it's 5 o'clock somewhere."

“Do you happen to know what the penalty is for shooting a fricaseeing rabbit without a fricaseeing rabbit license?”

“Wait! I haven’t tried toadying, kowtowing and butt-kissing yet! I’m still begging here!”

"Cats don't lay eggs. There's something screwy here."

"Of course you realize, this means war."

"His muscles are as soggy as a used teabag."

“I know this defies the law of gravity, but I never studied law!”

"Looks like the boy genius is tryin' to show me up."

"It was a terrible storm, the boat wocked and worked up one wave and down the other."

"You're despicable."

"If you're gonna be two-faced sweetie, then atleast make one of them pretty!"

"F-f-first they told me to lose the stutter now they tell me Im not funny anymore. "

“Well, what did you expect in an opera? A happy ending?”

"That's all folks!"

"I don’t know the meaning of the word fear!"

"Beep beep!"

"I don't ask questions, I just have fun."

"Hungry!"

“Just when I’m getting used to the voices in my head, one of them starts stuttering.”

"Say your prayers!"

“Me? Normal? How dare you insult me like that?”

"You know, it is possible to be too attractive."

"I am positive, I am mental and I know I have attitude.”

“I’m not like other people, I can’t stand pain, it hurts me.”

"I tawt I taw a puddy tat!"

“Well, what do you know … there’s the little Wiener Schnitzel now.”

“If you’re happy and you know it, you're probably annoying someone who isn’t.”

"This is gonna cause more confusion than a mouse in a burlesque show!"

"Who's responsible for this unwarranted attack on my person?"

“I'll be scared later. Right now I'm too mad.”

“If an interesting monster can’t have an interesting hairdo I don’t know what this world is coming to.”

“You say the Loch Ness Monster is living in your jacuzzi? Well, call Roto-Rooter!”

“I hate it when people are at you house and ask, ‘hey do you have a bathroom?’ No not at all...”

[brittanytaylorbarber]

The Real Problem with Velma's Protagonist

A lot of people have criticized the titular main character of HBO Max's Velma as unlikeable, and I personally tend to agree with that opinion. It's incredibly easy to list negative qualities that the character possesses. She's mean, she's manipulative, she's self-absorbed, she's bigoted, she has gross habits (doing things like eating French fries out of the dumpster and vacuum and peeing in the shower at school), etc., etc., etc.

But the thing is there's a right way and a wrong way to have a main character with a lot of negative traits. For example, Rick Sanchez from Rick and Morty is a far more well-received character, even though he too has a lot of negative traits. He's also selfish, manipulative, smug, gross, etc. You can have a main character who's a jerk but still functions as a great character.

The real problem with this version of Velma isn't that she's a bad person. That alone isn't enough to sink her. The real problem is twofold.

First, Velma's negative traits don't have the negative effect they should have.

Yes, Velma is said to be unpopular at school. Yes, a lot of people are shown reacting negatively to the things she says or even her mere presence. (She taunts a cop by saying she's out past curfew, and the cop's response is to mow her down with his car? Damn.) But, even though the show constantly jokes about how ugly she is, she still manages to woo Daphne, Fred, and Norville without even trying. All three of them, independently of each other, become attracted to her, and she does nothing to charm any of them. They just find her attractive even though she's said to look unattractive (how true that is is debatable), and her personality is revolting (through the combination of the aforementioned bad personality traits and gross habits).

Also, a lot of her reprehensible actions don't have the real life consequences they should.

For example, her first scene in the show (post-eye-rolling opening narration) is her attacking Daphne in the school shower with a lead pipe. Never mind the fact that this was done entirely unprovoked as far as I can tell. The real question is why the hell wasn't she expelled for this? A lead pipe to the skull can easily kill someone. Expulsion is the least that should have happened there. She did it in front of tons of witnesses. I don't know what exactly the penalty is for attempted assault with a deadly weapon, but Velma should absolutely spend a couple of years in juvie at the very least.

But, no. She gets away with trying to kill a girl at her school with nothing more than a slap on the wrist because Velma is less a main character in a story and more a vehicle for weird wish fulfillment. She fulfills the fantasy of getting to say or do whatever crazy, malicious thing you want to the people you hate without facing any serious consequences for it.

However, the second problem that sinks Velma's character is even bigger. For all her faults, Velma doesn't have any positive characteristics. I don't mean that the show intentionally portrays her as a complete monster with nothing admirable about her. I mean that the positive traits the show claims she possesses don't actually exist.

From the show's perspective, Velma's main redemptive quality is that she's supposed to be intelligent. We're supposed to forgive every terrible thing that she does or says because she's smart enough to see the world the way it is and get things done. And we've seen that type of character before. Rick Sanchez, Dr. House, even modern portrayals of Sherlock Holmes tend to have this kind of character. It's even a bit of a cliche. "Dammit, protagonist, you're a loose cannon, but you get results!"

But here's the thing: Functionally, Velma isn't actually smart.

Throughout the entire show, Velma consistently does and says really dumb things. Like, not just things that a genius wouldn't do but things that a person of average intelligence wouldn't do.

For instance, there's a rather infamous moment in episode four where the principal of Velma's school announces that the girls will be taking mandatory self-defense classes and Velma loudly asks why the boys aren't required to take classes on not raping girls. This is, objectively, a really idiotic thing to say. Rape doesn't happen because the perpetrators don't know it's wrong, and you can't really teach a class on how not to do something. Should we have classes on how not to steal? How not to break into someone's home? How not to murder someone? You apparently need to take that class because your very first scene in this show involved you trying to murder Daphne with a lead pipe.

Now, I have seen the argument that this moment is meant to be a joke at Velma's expense, which has some weight considering the principal's response to this inane question is pretty valid. (It basically boils down to "We don't actually have the resources to reverse thousands of years of rape culture.") Intentional or not, however, it still doesn't change the fact that it sabotages Velma's character. She's supposed to be the smartest character in the show, and yet she said something really, really dumb.

And it's not a one-off occurrence either. There's the montage (I think it's in episode two) where Velma is trying to sell drugs for Daphne. Never mind the fact that she has no in-story reason to do this, she's also shown to be really terrible at it, consistently driving potential customers away with her awful personality. After this disaster, Daphne essentially fires her from dealing for her, and Velma's reaction is a very angry and defensive, "WHY???"

Um, because you suck at it?

Seriously, she didn't sell anything, and she knows that. She's not even self-aware enough to see that she did something poorly, which makes her look pretty dumb.

I could go on and on and on. She doesn't solve the mysteries in the show through deduction the way any other portrayal of Velma would; the answers just kind of fall into her lap through contrived coincidence. She treats people terribly yet infallibly acts all shocked-Pikachu-face whenever they react negatively to her behavior, and all the opinions she loudly expresses at the top of her lungs at every opportunity are the most nonsensical, inane, vapid ramblings I've ever heard from the main character of a show from a major network.

It isn't just that Velma's a bad person. It's the awareness that the show is actively lying to us. Because even the good traits she's said to have aren't real. We're told over and over again, "Oh, she's brilliant. She's so smart! She has no filter because she tells it like it is!" But all we see is what she really is: a total dumbass.