#call her dotty and you die

[acriminalmind]

The Housewife Killer

GN Serial Killer Reader x Housewife Wanda Maximoff

Summary: They call you the housewife killer as all of your victims are housewives, but your own sweet housewife has absolutely nothing to worry about...

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Dark themed fic, murder, blood, slight torture (with a knife), death list, manipulation, fluff, soft (not very detailed) smut.

Let me know what you think.

Enjoy!

AN: Should I post a sneak peek of Songs From the Wood?

Tears stream down her face as you drag the knife over her collarbone. Blood trickles down her body. Her breaths are shallow as she experiences gruesome pain. The white sleeping gown she had worn earlier that night had been torn off of her body and was, covered with various blood stains on it, thrown onto the concrete floor. The ropes around her wrists and ankles that kept her on the uncomfortable chair cut into her skin. Her voice had become raspy from all the screaming and begging she had done. Barely any sound came from it at this point, except from soft whimpering. She hadn't seen any danger when she had let you, her 'friendly' neighbor, inside.

One moment she walked to her kitchen to brew you some fresh coffee and the other moments you had her in a chokehold until she fell unconscious in your arms. You had dragged her to her basement where you took place on the washing machine, waiting for her to wake up so you could start your 'fun' time together. Another almost unhearable plea left her dry mouth. "Pleading won't make me stop, Honey. It will only make it more fun for me," You say as you cut into her arm. You made sure she wouldn't bleed out before you were done with her. She would die when you allowed her to. You circled around her like a predator would with a wounded prey, taking in your newest masterpiece. You twirled the blood-covered knife in your gloved hand before taking your stand behind her. She tensed as she felt your hand on her shoulder. The knife was pressed against her neck and as it slowly was pushed into her skin she cried with the last energy left in her weak body, "Y-you don't h-have to do this…" For a second you stopped your ministrations. You pulled the knife away from her neck and made your way around her. Kneeling down in front of her you grabbed her chin so she would look you in the eye when you talked to her. "That's where you are wrong, Geraldine. I do have to do this. She said your name." It was silent for a moment. The last sentence spins through her head. It was hard for her to think clearly, her eyes soon widened at the realization of who you were talking about. Who had said her name. "

Earlier that evening...

"Give me a name…" you whisper in her ear while you slowly thrust into her. With her arms and legs draped around you, Wanda holds your sweaty body tight against her own, not wanting to have any space between the two of you. She wants to feel your soft skin against her own while you make sweet love to her. Her head is thrown back into her pillow, with her eyes closed and mouth wide open while letting out the most beautiful noises. You kiss her neck, leaving multiple hickeys while patiently waiting for her answer. Different names go through Wanda's head. From Agatha who had 'accidentally' cut off her precious rosebushes, to Dottie who always gives her the worst book club tasks to take care of. Wanda felt herself getting closer as you move your hand in between your bodies to rub small circles on her clit. Her moans get louder with each second while your thrusts stay firm and steady. She knows you won't let her drop over the edge until she spills out a name. As she can feel her orgasm reach it hits her. Her eyes shoot open. Her green orbs stare at the ceiling while clawing your back as she says, "Geraldine". She can feel you smile against her neck before you say, "Good girl." You give her a few hard and coordinated thrusts until Wanda screams beneath you in euphoria. You help her ride out her orgasm before pulling out. Wanda lets out a soft whine at the loss of contact, but she knows that you'll be back in her arms soon, even if it's just for a short time before you take care of her 'problems'. You clean her up before taking your place beside her on the comfortable bed, pulling Wanda closer until she lays half on top of you. She can hear your rapid heartbeat as she plays with the wedding band on your left hand. "I love you," Wanda says half out of breath. You look down at her while playing with her red, curly hair. "I love you too, my love." Wanda wants to stay awake, she wants you to spend the night safe and sound in your shared bed. The moment she falls asleep she knows you'll leave. She knows she has nothing to worry about because you're always two steps ahead of the police and you always make sure to leave no trace behind that would lead them to you, but still. Before she can worry more sleep overtakes her and sends her on her way to dreamland. An hour later you silently leave the warm bed to get yourself ready to kill your next victim. Geraldine.

But not before you place a kiss on Wanda's lips with the silent promise that she has nothing to worry about.

"Wanda… It's all about Wanda…" A creepy grin overtakes your features as you watch her process the revelation. "She deserves a peaceful and happy life after everything she's been through. You don't bring peace or happiness so you need to go." Letting go of her face you get on your feet and walk back to stand behind her, placing the knife on her throat, "Bye-bye, Geraldine…". With one swift motion, you cut through her artery. Blood spurts out of her neck, decorating her wall. You make sure not to get any stray drops on you. After cleaning every piece of evidence that could lead the cops to you up, you look back at the pale body that stared back at you with dead eyes one more time before leaving the crime scene to go back home where your own little housewife was still peacefully asleep.

-

The next morning Wanda wakes up and smiles as she feels your muscular arms around her waist. She looks at the time and sees she has an hour left before book club starts. She rolls her eyes at the thought of Dottie complaining to her about how she could have done a better job at doing her tasks. Thankfully, soon that will be over... The corners of her mouth go up, forming a sinister smile as she thinks about the horrendous fate you will give Dottie. She carefully turns around so she faces your sleeping form. As she strokes your hair, red strings of magic leave her fingers to go into your mind.

-

Onto the Next!

-

Masterlist

#fanfic #marvel #wanda maximoff #dark fic #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch x reader #monica rambeau #wandavision #dark reader #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x reader

[screwedpurple]

Call her Dottie and you die. Here's the Warner sister, fashionably late!! Safe to say the collection is now complete, I'd be happy to see them used anywhere 💛 23 expressions and custom shouts 👍

Share code: ZTUNHI

Credits to Daisy of the Wolves for ripping the sprites from the Animaniacs mega drive game!!

#animaniacs #objection.lol #dot warner

[midnigtartist]

Since Dotty is romancing Gale and has a history of acquaintance/friendship with Wyll, I'm curious about what her relationships with the rest of the party are like if you don't mind sharing. C:

I’m gonna just do the remaining origin characters so this post doesn’t get to long!

Shadowheart: Dotty kind of imprinted on her like a duckling lol. Shes who Dotty would consider to be her first friend on the adventure. Being friends with Dotty has definitely instilled the ‘mom arm’ instinct in Shadowheart bc Dotty (the rogue) has extremely low perception and walks into traps constantly. They basically walk around w Shadowheats hand on the back of her shirt to point her in the direction of things that need disarming

Lae’zel: i dont think Lae’zel really warmed up to Dot until the end of act one. She thought Dotty was weak in body and will and that she was probably gonna die early and stupidly and took up a begrudging protector roll with her. its not till everything that goes down a the crèche that they really become friends and Dotty proves that shes someone that can be relied on. Also did a big class change in act three where Dotty took fighter lvls and I hc that she asked Lae’zel to train her

Karlach: I dont have Karlach in my party often but she and Dot are definitely chaos “let me shoots this apple off your head blindfolded” friends. Drinking buddies for sure. Karlach calls her Shortie 💙

Astarion: its very “im the only one allowed to bully you” energy from Astarion. Dotty is kind of exactly the person he hates. Too emotional, too naive , too much of a bleeding heart. He finds her extremely annoying at first but possibly stupid enough to run his little scheme on if she wasnt so head over heels for Gale (ugh). He wants to hate her, but shes so infuriatingly considerate and nice. Being mean to her would be like kicking a blind puppy. Its no fun if she doesnt see it coming (he says even though he is a bit protective of her). I also love the idea of them eventually becoming in laws bc Astarion is so her cousin’s type lol

#tav shit #dotty mcclain

[thecluelessdoctor]

spins in a swivel chair

HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT I HAVE A REVIEW RANT THIBG!! YK THISE THINGS I DO EVERY BLUE MOON ON SOMETHING OTHER THAN HELLUVA BOSS? YEAH! WE ARE DOING THAT?

ABOUT WHAT EXACTLY??

YUP! THIS HORRIBLE WEBTOON. I won't be talking about the creator controversy

Look I couldn't even get past the first few episodes. I had to watch summary videos that's how much I hated it.

So!!

Yeah

So using what I've learned ima. Review it.

Story first!

So it's a romance (WHY) between Nelle and of course Jeff the murderer- sorry killer. Anyway. Nelle at the beginning attempts to get a job at Arkham asylum, but isn't allowed to due to not having any experience. Nelle why is this the first thing you tried to do after getting a degree- you could be a therapist. (Wait she was a child therapis?? Oh) anyway. Nelle runs into Jeff and. Nelle gives the obvious psychopath a ride to HER home. WHAT??

Shit happened and Jeff ends up living with Nelle, and ig. They start falling in love?

Yeah.

This is written like a fanfic. You know what it reminds me of?? IT REMINDS ME OF STOLITZ!!

Which brings me to the next point

The writing/dialogue

Everything feels uncomfortable and stiff. It also feels really robotic- it's just. Not good.

Jeff is really creepy. I mean yeah he's a murderer but he calls Nelle 'kid' with the sexual tension going on and it feels weird. WHY KID. God Jeff also gives off that 'alpha male' dude vibe it was just. I'm crying. BUT THE SHOW MUSt GO ON!!

This webtoon and it's characters feel so soulless and Nelle is so obviously this adorkable self OC god.

Next part.

The art.

AUHHJJ- ITS ACTUALLY TERRIBLE- MEDIOCRE AT BEST

It looks like Vivziepop art, but at least her newer art is consistent

This also has ZERO artistic growth!!

Now I'm a young artist, and I don't normally hate on other's art but this??? It's so Incredibly painful, and it doesn't even feel like it's trying to be good

Liker here are a few panels that I read that were really inconsistent

As well as some Google images.

God

Anyway rant over

Do you friends, have some shitty canvas webtoon you want me to review?? TELL ME!! I'll probably do it lmao.

Ig I'll call this series 'Bargain comics' because it's a bargain if I will be traumatized for the rest of my days

Anyway, I'm Dotty, and I wanna die

#jeff the killer #Jeff's disorders #Bargain comics #Critical #webtoon #original comic #webcomic #webtooncanvas #webtoon critical

[dadsbongos]

dad needs a night out

Warnings: suicide ideation and flashbacks of an attempt (Reiner bullshit), Reiner's awful mental health Summary: You’re the manic pixie dream girl teacher to Reiner’s depressed single DILF. Word Count: 9.3 K Author’s Note - fic is for the awesome and cool Daddy’s Day Out collab by the awesome and cool @nuclevi <33 ~~~

Reiner can feel their eyes on him. It makes him itch underneath his pullover - makes his jaw clench and his fist tighten around his keys. It’s harmless, he thinks. They’re just glancing, really. But then again, he already knows what the moms are thinking when their eyes flicker to him in the hallway.

They’re whispering but he knows what they’re saying. Or rather, he knows what kinds of things they’re saying. 

He pretends he doesn’t know about the thoughts in their head and he pretends that it all rolls off his back and he waits for his daughter. His mother squeezes his shoulder - she’d insisted on coming and he couldn’t deny her the opportunity to see her granddaughter.

Dottie “Dots” Braun. Looked just like her mother - Historia Reiss - and acted just like her older cousin - Gabi Braun. He doesn’t know how it happened exactly, they hadn’t even seen each other all that often lately.

He tries not to think about why, but sometimes when it's late and the room is pitch black and he can’t tell the difference between memory and dream - it’s all he can think about.

He’s ashamed and he doesn’t tell his friends what happened even though everybody already knows. He doesn’t talk to his friends often because it’s all they want to talk about. They’re all kind people and he would gladly die for them, not that it’s saying much, but he can’t listen to Bertholdt’s sympathies or Annie’s insistence or Zeke’s pressuring anymore. 

The door to the classroom slides open and the face of a young man is peeking through, he grins and waves, “Hi, guardians, just a minute and we’ll be ready for you!”

Karina’s thumbs twiddle and Reiner’s hands dig into his pockets.

Dottie’s already inside and he just wishes she was next to him. It’s a little pathetic for him, he realizes - to need your child to have self-purpose. And not in the way parents usually mean it, but to be literally useless without your daughter is just an embarrassing feeling.

Historia had nearly forced Reiner to go to the parents’ night at Dottie’s school. He can appreciate her trying to let him take the reins as a father, but he knows that she knew he’d be uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s what she was looking for - not to be evil, but because her best way of getting comfortable with something is to dive head first and she assumes it’ll work with him, too. Ymir, on the other hand, had side-eyed him so critically that he felt obligated to give in the moment her eyes slid over to him.

Whatever. It’s fine. He loves his daughter and he’s honestly just grateful to be presented the chance to still be a father.

No custody, but Historia said he can come over whenever he wants - so that’s a plus.

The young man from earlier pokes into the hall again, “Alright, we’re all ready for you!”

The adults flood into the room and immediately search for their respective child’s face. Dottie’s bouncing in her seat as she excitedly waves to Reiner and Karina.

“Hi, Papa!” she cheers, leeching onto him the instant he’s by her desk.

“Hey, Dots,” he squeezes her in his arms - feeling the heat on the back of his neck when he recalls that night four months back. 

August 19th. A Thursday night where the stars were twinkling and the wind bled warmly against his skin on the balcony. A time when the sliding glass door was especially noisy when it would open and close as he went inside. 

The young man calls for attention at the front of the room and Reiner is ready to give it so long as it can just sway his mind from the stream of unpleasant memories. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” a new voice speaks now and Karina elbows her son at the sight of a young woman.

Reiner loves his mother, she’s kind and compassionate and very giving, but he can’t stand the way she’ll try setting him up with anything with a pulse if it’ll mean he’s busy and distracted.

...

You look out at the classroom of children and their guardians, “Glad you all could join us! Tonight’s just going to be for all you adults to get to know our classroom routines and rules and lessons.”

The young man to your right gestures to himself, “I’m Armin Arlert and I’ll be co-teaching in the classroom.”

You then gesture to yourself and introduce yourself in the same fashion. Reiner can admire the rehearsed fashion of the way you and Armin go through procedures. It shows that you two have been working on this night - maybe even practicing and pitching lines to one another when you weren’t actively teaching.

It reminds him of when he’d babysit Gabi - showing off projects he wanted her to take interest in or a game he thought was cool. It reminds him of when he’d recite stories to Dottie before bed or tell her tales of his own childhood.

He can tell that you two aren’t extremely experienced in giving speeches to adults the way you are to kids, but he can’t judge either of you for that. So he sits quietly with his mother and daughter and listens intently. He hopes that neither of you notices the judging eyes of other parents or the way some aren’t even paying attention. He hopes you two can see the way he’s invested and take that as a sign that you’re doing well.

He doesn’t know why he hopes that, but maybe he just doesn’t want either of you beating on yourselves after everyone leaves. He imagines that in an earlier time, he would’ve apologized for some of the other people’s behavior. But now he doesn’t want to bother.

Maybe you two don’t notice.

Maybe you two already know.

Maybe you two don’t even care as long as the kids are still intrigued by school at the end of the day.

He should know that last point by now. He’s not the golden boy he used to be. The star athlete and the one people loved talking to and teachers entrusted with academic integrity. The one with the hot friends and the pretty girlfriend and the killer smile. The one people liked to hear talk. 

Reiner hangs on the collective word of you and Armin until the very end, when Armin is standing at the door and handing out a syllabus to each adult as they exit.

He stands and watches Dottie take Karina’s hand. They walk down the aisle between desks ahead of him - almost making it to the door when you speak up from behind them.

“Sorry, Mr. Braun, right?” a sticky note pulls at your skin as you hold it between two nervous hands, “Dottie’s father?”

“Yeah,” he waves off his daughter and mother so they go ahead without him, “Her mother couldn’t make it tonight,” a lie, but he doesn’t think it’s necessary you know that, “I hope that’s not a problem.”

“No, no, not at all!” you dismiss his worries with a wave of your hands before holding out the sticky note in your grasp, “I’ve met the Reisses, but I’m afraid your information isn’t on the form we give for parent information.”

Reiner wishes he could be surprised. Historia isn’t terrible or rude, nor does he even dislike her, but he can’t say it’s shocking she didn’t take the liberty to fill him in as the father of their child. Aside from his name, he supposes.

“I’ve been… away for a little bit,” he chooses not to share information with the teacher of his daughter that he just met today - mostly out of respect for you. And Armin, who he assumes - that if he did spill his guts to you - would quickly hear about it as soon as he left the room because, in total fairness, who the fuck shares the kind of thing he’d hypothetically share with a stranger?

The sympathetic smile on your face, however, tells him that you might already know.

Fucking Ymir who, unlike Historia, is actually someone he doesn’t like very much. Someone who can’t keep her mouth shut. Who likes to overshare. Who likes to overstep. Who likes to act as though he’s completely incompetent as a father. 

But he was a great dad, and not in the way that most fathers claim they’re great while doing mundane work that mothers do every day with no thanks. No, Reiner went above and beyond in the work and he put in the hours and he did it because he loves his daughter and he loved his wife, even after the divorce was finalized - his love was just different. Historia was nice and she was the mother of his child, of course, he wouldn’t stop caring about her even if he didn’t actually love love her. 

He was a great dad, that is the point. And Ymir liked to pretend he wasn’t and then share her opinions and knowledge without anyone’s feelings taken into account. 

But you smile, uneasy and crooked and still holding out the sticky note, “Not a problem, just put down your legal name, any work or personal phone numbers, Email, and relation to Dottie on here and we can add you,” Reiner takes the note as you continue, “I’d have the form to you but we’re out of copies right now and I want to make sure you’re on there before I forget.”

Reiner nods and he can sense the words bubbling at the tip of your tongue: I do that a lot. He decides to simply not speak.

You have a nervous energy about you that he can admire. You care. He misses feeling nervous because it used to mean he cared. 

You thread your fingers together, “You can have Dottie bring it in for you or bring it in yourself, whatever works best for you works for us!”

With a customer service smile, which you technically shouldn’t have to perform as an educator, you wave Reiner goodbye as he takes his leave.

He hopes Ymir didn’t actually go and tell you and Armin what happened. He feels ashamed to call himself a father now, but at the same time - he knows he shouldn’t be so hard on himself.

Not that he can help it. 

It’s fine. It isn’t like you’ll be his closest friend by the end of the year. It’s fine.

Karina drives to Historia’s house where he gets to confront Ymir as politely as he possibly can.

“Did you tell them?”

“Tell who what?”

“The teachers. Did you tell them?”

“I said you had an accident. Nothing else. They didn’t pry, so no - they don’t know. Now, would you fuckin’ relax? You’ll put Historia under stress if she can sense you freaking out.”

“She’s empathetic - not psychic.”

Ymir shrugs and moves past Reiner, “Not that you know of.”

Reiner doesn’t actually have much reason to dislike Ymir the more he thinks about it. But it’s easier to have a distaste than to admit he’s not as good as her.

Dottie’s excitedly telling her mother about what happened just moments earlier and he has to take a moment to collect himself. There’s something nostalgic about this scenario. Something he almost wants to go back to, but knows it’d hurt far more than it could ever help.

Historia is happier now and Reiner should be, too. 

In a weird way, he almost is.

Not that the last four months would show it, but he feels less trapped. Again - not that the last four months would show it.

...

“You should take the note yourself,” Gabi says. 

Reiner had been staying with his uncle and aunt rather than his mother. He would stay with his mother, but she’s not in the financial status to take care of him at the moment. Besides, he doesn’t know if her smothering ways would truly be best for him - not that he blames her.

He and Gabi were sitting at the table that morning before she had to go to school. She was invasive just as his mother was, but she only did it to be annoying, not because she fretted over him. She cared, but she was still a fifteen-year-old. 

“Why?” he stares into the tar pit he calls drinkable black coffee.

Gabi shakes her head at him but he doesn’t notice, “Because I think if you make Dot do it, you’ll just sit here staring at your coffee all day.”

Gabi had left off the ‘s’ from Dottie’s nickname since the girl had first been called ‘Dots’ and sometimes it annoyed Reiner. Other times it endeared him. Either way, it was nice to know that even while he was away, she and Dottie didn’t grow so estranged as for the nickname to be adjusted.

“Yeah, probably,” he admits.

“So, you should do it. Get out of the house,” she looks at the stove clock and rises from her chair, “Wash that for me.”

Reiner looks at the bowl she abandons and decides not to. Not out of malice, but because sometimes it’s fun to hear Gabi get lectured.

Reiner shoots up at that thought - he’s thirty-six years old, he can’t be finding it comical when his kid cousin is lectured. He has to get out of the house, so he makes sure he has the sticky note filled out and takes his car keys from the bowl by the front door - leaving behind Gabi’s cereal to deteriorate in the warming milk.

...

The carpet of the front office is blue, he’s sure, under the murky brown stains which sources he doesn’t even want to know about - it’s blue. They’re patchy and they remind him, oddly enough, of his own primary school. On days where he’d either actually throw up in the middle of art or pretend to feel sick so he could get called out and was forced to sit on the uncomfortable cushions of the chairs until his mother came. 

Now, he waits behind a mother as she signs her son out of school. The two walk out and he can faintly hear a high five in the hallway after they’re out of sight. 

When he moves up, the woman apologizes before rushing off at the sound of a concerning yelp coming from the nurse’s office. He assumes he isn’t more important than a potential emergency in the nurse’s office so he waits patiently for the woman to return.

...

You peek into the front office from the copier room, spotting Reiner with a bright orange post-it folded between his fingers. Plastering a grin over your lips, you stride out to meet the man in front of the counter, “Hey, got something for me?”

His shoulders tense before he turns around, letting out a sigh of relief, “Yeah. Yes,” he holds out the note, “Everything you asked for is on there.”

“Thank you,” you practically hum and take the note from him.

Reiner nods slowly, and before you can turn back to the copier room, he speaks, “Hey, this - it’s dumb,” his face flashes hot in embarrassment when all you do is quirk a brow, “I was just wondering, if you’re ever looking for a TA and nobody else is volunteering, then I’m happy to do it.”

This time, both brows shoot up and your grin morphs from pleasantry to genuine surprise, “Sure, if you’re ready to grade papers and make copies all day,” your fingers drum against the thick stack of papers in your arms, “And you’d probably have to work in the side office, just so you don’t rile the kids up or anything,” you chuckle, “Armin and I don’t ask for TAs often because there isn’t much excitement to be had.”

“I feel like that’s self-explanatory.”

“Yeah, well, you’d probably be surprised how many complaints we used to get when we would ask for volunteers and they couldn’t just sit next to their kid the entire day,” you laugh, gritting your teeth, but the laugh is something strained and he can tell you’re reliving something that makes your blood boil, “I get that it’s ‘just a second-grade class’ but still. It’s not like what we do isn’t important, right?”

Reiner nods and you gesture to him, responding to your own question with an assured, 

“Right!” you flatten the stack against the counter, “Anyway, if you’re positively sure, then it’d be a great, big help if you could TA.”

He’s positively desperate for something to get him out of the house and he’s sure that if he has to sit at a 9-5 or get screamed at and mocked for a minimum wage he’d put a gun in his mouth. But you don’t need to know that, so he just nods and holds his hands out, “Can I start by carrying all that back to your classroom for you?”

You hand over the papers in your arms before putting a finger up and rushing to the copier room and returning with another stack, “Now, we can go.”

“Here,” he moves the stack to the crook of his arm and reaches out for the one in your hands, “let me.”

“Aw, no,” you protest - rather lightly, if you’re honest, “Are you sure - I’d hate to make you carry so much.”

Reiner takes the papers from your lackluster grip and places them atop the ones already in his hold, “I don’t have muscles for fun.”

“What? No,” you elongate the vowels as you speak, “I thought working out was just a laugh riot.”

“For sure is,” he mutters.

The conversation dies quietly as you two go through the winding hallways. You lead him to a door right beside the real entrance to the classroom, “I’d take you through the actual room, but Armin’s reading with them.”

Reiner doesn’t mind. Not at all. He prizes Dottie’s giggles and smiles when she sees him, but he also treasures her education - so he thinks he can survive not being the center of attention for a little while.

…

Reiner drops Dottie off in the mornings and then waits for her to wander down a hall before making his own way to the office he works in. You always show up - sometimes with Armin, if he’s early enough - with two cups of coffee. The first time you came, you had creamers and sugar tucked into the crook of your arm and sheepishly admitted, “I don’t know how you like your coffee, so I brought everything.”

You feel bad about “making” him work all day without pay, so you actually offer wages of your own. Reiner refuses every time - he knows you don’t make much already, and he lives comfortably, he doesn’t want to cut into your funds.

“Armin and I switch on subjects for the most part,” you told him while the kids were being taught the components of space by Armin, “It just works better than having two adults crowding the room at once. Could make the kids feel too watched.”

He isn’t sure what that means, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to be something that sticks out, but you always come into the office when you aren’t teaching to talk to him. You sit on the opposite desk pressed into a wall and watch him dumbly flick his head back and forth as he grades and you talk.

Reiner likes the background noise, and he likes how easy you are to agree with.

“Kids shouldn’t be charged for the food in the cafeteria.”

“Breaking Bad is a little overrated. Like it’s good, but I think people slobber over it too much.”

“Armin’s new choice of book for the kids is so boring, and he knows it - little shit.”

“The Ozark finale kinda sucked.”

“I feel like it’s just nostalgia talking, but I don’t think Marvel’s as good as it used to be.”

“I never saw myself doing this, to be honest.”

Everything you say, Reiner can easily nod along to - including that - but something about you saying it puts him off.

He looks up at you and you’re just sipping your coffee as if you aren’t on the verge of existential crisis.

“Huh?” he asks, putting down the pen in his hand.

You shrug and look away, “I just didn’t imagine I’d be a second-grade teacher living with my co-teacher.”

“You and Armin are roommates?”

“Wrong thing to take from that, but yeah.”

“Well, what was the right thing to take from that?”

“I dunno,” you hop off the desk you were sitting on and move to leer over his shoulder at his work, “I thought I’d work in a daycare. It’s more fun.”

“Is it?” he sits up and finally takes notice of the ache cranking through his spine, “I would’ve thought it’s more stressful than teaching.”

“I mean, sometimes it was,” you cross your arms, “I left because they were starting to make daycare more academic and I couldn’t be around for that.”

“So you came to teach?” he turns in the chair to look at you directly.

…

You look down at Reiner as he speaks and you feel so silly under his gaze. He’s got a kind face for a man his age, you aren’t used to it.

Shaking your head, you take a step back, “I was jobless for a long time. Bumming it with Armin and feeling bad that I couldn’t pay him back. Then he said there’s an open position at the school he worked for and I went to the interview,” you wave your hand around, “Now, I’m teaching.”

He nods slowly, “What’d you go to school for?”

“Literature, big help that was.”

“Do you like teaching?”

Your response is too quick and both of you know it. A little too practiced. A little too harsh.

“Of course!”

And then you backtrack.

“I mean, I love working with kids. Not so much the parents. Except you.”

You’d only said it to save both of you the awkwardness of not clarifying it, but Reiner can feel his heart thud beneath his ribs at the way you say it. You’re the exception - I like you.

Reiner wants to say something back. He has to say something back.

“I’ve always had a lot of respect for teachers, I don’t really know how you can handle a class full of kids and deal with insane adults,” he’s careful in how he phrases it.

“Yeah, neither of us get along with people our age. Except each other, I guess.”

Something about the way you exempt Armin rubs Reiner the wrong way and he feels so fucking stupid for it. He’s thirty-six acting like a child when they find out the babysitter they have a crush on is dating somebody.

Crush. 

He wants to dive out the window at that thought.

A crush on one of his daughter’s teachers. Who’s younger than him.

Way younger, maybe. He doesn’t know exactly how old you are but he bets you’re in your mid-20s. He feels pathetic.

But you smile upon him and the sunshine peeking through the windows hits you with a backlight. A halo seems to shine overhead and he grins at the thought.

You’re just being nice to the man who works for you, but he likes the daydream where he’s the mysterious man you want to know more about. Even if you haven’t asked him anything about himself.

“Well,” you check your watch, “I should get back in there. Need anything before I go?”

Reiner looks down at the paper before him and shakes his head - muttering a small ‘thanks’.

“For what?”

“Giving me something to do.”

You’d giggled and pat his shoulder as you left and he felt like crumbling beneath your touch. Oh, to die at that moment - knowing that the spot you’d graced with a gentle hand would be forever unsullied by the rest of the world.

Dottie would need him, and that wakes him from his thoughts.

He’s embarrassed to admit that Dottie hadn’t been on his mind on August 19th. 

The night he slid into his studio apartment and looked around at barren fucking wastelands he called square feet in a home. The night he laid in bed and tried swallowing pills just to get out of his own head. The night his ex-wife and her new wife decided to grant him a surprise visit with his daughter. The night Historia screamed so loudly and so raw that she had a sore throat for the next week and alerted his neighbors.

Dottie was confused as she was rushed back to the car by Ymir, who he bet was muttering something more comforting and gentle than anything she’d ever said in her entire life previously.

He woke up on August 21st at eleven in the morning with his mother clutching his hand and Historia whispering with a doctor right outside the door.

Before the doctor could bring it up, Reiner had admitted himself to suicide watch. 

Now, he’s back and Dottie hasn’t asked a single question about it - so he’s hoping she’s moved past August 19th.

He still thinks about dying, but he’s firmly decided against taking action. So, that’s something.

…

“Why do you show up every day?”

Reiner wasn’t expecting that question. It sounds silly to say, in hindsight. What kind of sane person with a job - or, shit, even just a hobby - shows up to assist their daughter’s teacher(s) without their daughter even knowing?

Though, to be fair to him, he never told Dottie because then she’d get nothing done. And he only really kept showing up here, specifically, because he liked to daydream about the symbolism behind the hearts you put on his coffee cups. He liked picturing a timeline where they aren’t meaningless doodles from the dreadful ride to school but rather something to show minute affection. 

But he can’t tell you that, so the next answer is the reason he even considered the position - to avoid being at home alone with only the inner workings of his mind to keep him company.

He can’t tell you that, either.

“Ehh,” he can’t decide what lie to spit, but you seem to get the message from his dumb mutter.

“Sorry, not my business,” you shake your head, “Don’t feel pressured to answer that.”

Reiner’s never felt so at ease before - so disarmed. You stand up from a new favorite spot of yours, sitting on the edge of the desk Reiner works on, and he feels obligated to say something.

“Thanks,” you turn, eyes wide and taken aback by his gratitude, “for not pushing. I really appreciate that, not a lot of people would just drop it the way you did.”

“Well, maybe you need to know different people,” you tap the side of your cup with your nails, “People aren’t cruel, Reiner, you just need to know the right ones,” something in the way his jaw clenches, and brows set tells you that he doesn’t believe you, so you continue, “If you want, Armin and I are going out with a few friends on Friday. You can meet some new people - they’re all really nice, I promise.”

Reiner chuckles, he scratches the back of his neck, eyes shifting to the carpeted floor in lieu of your face, “That’s a kind offer, really, but I’ll probably feel more like a chaperone than anything.”

“Oh, no, no!” you wave your hands about, hoping to dismiss his insecurities, “Eren,” he nods along despite having no idea who that is, “always drags along his older brother, Zeke, so it isn’t like they’ll be weird about you being older or anything.”

He hates to be that guy, but he can’t help himself from asking, “Zeke? Last name Yaeger?”

To his surprise, you nod excitedly, “Yeah! How d’ya know him?”

“We went to college together,” and then the reality of Zeke fucking Yaeger potentially being in the same room as him since August 18th slushes over him, “We’re buddies, actually.”

Now he can actually recall the name Eren - which he always thought was spelled Erin - from Zeke’s stories of a snot-nosed and annoying younger half-brother that he’d kill for.

“Aw, that’s great!”

You’re so sweet to say that, but you don’t know what Reiner’s done.

“Just - fuckin’ stay out of it!”

“I can take care of my damn self, I don’t fucking need you.”

“I’m goddamn fine, Yaeger. Leave me alone.”

“Yeah,” Reiner nods, “it’ll be great.”

“Uhm, do you want my number or anything?” you’re quick to tack on, “So I can keep you updated on the plans and whatever.”

“Yeah,” Reiner fumbles for his phone and hands it over, “that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Of course, and if you can’t make it then no worries - just, ya know, let me know.”

You hand back the phone and give Reiner a short wave, “Well, I’ll be back for lunch.”

Reiner returns the wave and checks the contact you saved once you’re gone. He grins upon seeing it: ‘hot teacher :)’ - at least you know yourself.

Reiner contemplates texting Zeke now. Apologizing. Explaining. Reasoning. Pleading for forgiveness. Any of it. All of it. He thinks about it, and lets the moment pass. 

Then returns to grading.

It’s not that Zeke doesn’t deserve an apology - he does. All of his friends do. Even fucking Porco who bugged him to no goddamn end. It’s just that Zeke intimidates him. Or, rather, the idea of looking Zeke in the eyes and having to backstep and relive all of his own shameful behavior intimidates him. 

It’ll be even worse with Bertholdt and Annie. He’s sure. 

But Zeke should be a manageable task for now. Should be.

Reiner doesn’t pick up his phone again for the rest of the day.

…

“Are you serious?” Armin just barely manages to get out the question after choking on his dinner.

“Yeah - why not?” you huff.

“Because that’s insane and we barely know him,” he stands up and takes both your plates from the table, “I mean, he seems great but what if he’s an asshole?”

“He isn’t - besides! He’s friends with Zeke, everything’ll work out.”

“He’s friends with Zeke?”

“Yeah,” you lean back in your chair, “It’ll be fine, you’re worried over nothing.”

“Story of my life,” he mutters as he returns to the table, “Alright, fine. He can go, but you’re the one telling Mikasa to get another seat at the table she booked.”

“Will you at least stay in the room with me when I do it?”

Armin sucks in a sharp breath as if to think, then he agrees, “Yeah. Hurry up.”

…

Dottie’s hanging off the doorframe of the bathroom, lips pulled down into a pout as she watches her father fuss with his hair, “Why’re you working so hard? You’re basically bald, anyway.”

Reiner turns and narrows his eyes at his daughter, “Hey, I’m not bald - it’s a buzz cut. There’s a difference,” he returns his gaze to the mirror, “Not having a receding hairline in my mid-30s is actually a big accomplishment, just so you know.”

“Mmm,” her nod is lackluster, eyes rolling, “Sure, old man…” Dottie stands on her own and smacks the doorframe, “Why’re you even leaving? Just stay home… Auntie’s making split pea soup and you get to go out? It’s so not fair.”

“I’ll make grilled cheese or something tomorrow, Dots,” he stands straight, “Dad just needs a night out. For fun. And friends.”

“Why don’t I just go?” Dottie wanders over to the counter and rests her head on the cool surface, golden tendrils of hair flutter and fall into the sink and Reiner gently brushes them out.

“It’s a night out for adults.”

Dottie arches a brow, groaning, “‘s dumb.”

“I know,” he ruffles her hair and steps back from the bathroom mirror, “Don’t be hard on your aunt and uncle, okay? And stay out of Gabi’s room, if she doesn’t finish her project - she’ll fail the semester.”

“Okay,” Dottie drags out the ‘a’ and follows her father to the front door where he puts on his shoes, “Bring me back food.”

“Wow, a month into second grade and somebody forgets their manners.”

“Bring me back food, please?”

“Sure,” Reiner bends down to kiss the girl’s forehead, he can feel the thrum of anxiety below his skin but the idea of showing that fear in front of his daughter makes him want to die, “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“‘Soon,’” she makes overly exaggerated air quotes and unlocks the front door, opening it as Reiner steps out.

“I love you,” the man grins down at his daughter, and she giggles.

Her face is just peeking out between the gap of the door as she excitedly chirps, “I love you, too! Have fun!”

The door slams shut and he waits to hear the lock click into place before turning to his car.

…

Eren’s question is innocent enough, “What’s with the extra chair?”

“Her newest geriatric date is coming,” Armin spits it out before you can even get a word in. He’s jabbing a thumb in your direction and making no effort to save you from the thundering tires of the bus.

“I thought I told you,” Mikasa turns to her boyfriend, only to receive a firm head shake in response, she shrugs and Zeke sighs from across the table.

“Oh, what?” you lean forward, “Scared to not be the only senior citizen at the table?”

“I’m in my mid-30s, not rotting,” Zeke makes a point to check his watch, “Boyfriend’s gonna be late.”

“He’ll be here.”

“Right… what’s this guy’s name, anyway?”

“Oh, so, funny thing- “ but before you can answer, Connie and Sasha arrive - loudly, as they usually do. They ask the same question Eren does and Armin pokes your side,

“Her silver fox boner.”

Jean asks when he shows up, too. Armin takes a slice of bread from the center table and points at you.

“Couldn’t keep it down long enough for the dad we work with to leave.”

And so does Marco. Armin pauses before drinking his water and nudges his head in your direction.

“Wrinkle-chaser.”

“He just has crow’s feet and it’s very natural,” you point at Jean, “Kirstein’s already got some.”

“Fuck off.”

Zeke crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, making another show of checking his watch, “Your boy’s officially two minutes late.”

“God forbid that as a dad, he’s busy,” you mutter.

“Hey, you didn’t answer my question, by the way,” you saddle the blond with a raised brow and he scratches at the back of his neck, “Your boy - what’s his name?”

“Oh!” you’re just about to roll the name from your tongue when Armin stops you and gestures to the entrance doors,

“Ask him yourself.”

Zeke turns and his jaw drops open, “No fucking shot.”

“You know him?” Eren follows his brother’s gaze.

“Right,” you nod, “he said you two were friends! That’s what I’ve been meaning to say.”

“Yeah, friends,” Zeke’s eyes suffocate Reiner from across the floor and he hopes the man can fucking feel it as he checks in with the hostess.

…

Reiner looks over the hostess’ shoulder and to the table she points at when he finally understands what the dread filling in his veins was.

Of course, he’s nervous and worried and ready to puke at the mere idea of having to face the discourse he’s caused. But the way Zeke’s eyes scorch him from over the rim of his wire glasses makes Reiner’s muscles shrivel beneath his skin.

He rubs the back of his neck and meets eyes with everyone at the table except Zeke as he introduces himself.

Armin shakes his hand as does Mikasa and Jean. Connie and Sasha wave excitedly. Eren nods. And you gingerly pull out the empty seat beside you.

“Uh,” Zeke stands before Reiner can sit and pats him on the shoulder, “we gotta catch up, man.”

Reiner knows Zeke well enough to know that isn’t a potential desire or wish, it’s a way of saying ‘come the fuck outside with me’ without making the rest of the table awkward.

“Oh, sure, yeah,” Reiner gives you a tight-lipped grin as he turns to follow Zeke outside and pretends he doesn’t feel your sweet eyes on his back.

Zeke doesn’t speak when they step outside, instead, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes - the same brand Reiner’s always known him to smoke - and offers one despite knowing Reiner doesn’t smoke. It makes his eyes burn and he hates the smell. So Zeke lights up a cigarette on his own and watches the cherry illuminate as he forms the thoughts within his head.

“So,” Zeke blows the smoke out slowly and Reiner almost hopes the fumes can inflate him - just a little, “you disappear to flirt with a woman ten years younger than you?”

“I can see why you’d say that,” Reiner moves to stand against the wall, still not looking the other man in his eyes, “I just… I never knew how to get back to you.”

“And the others?”

“Haven’t talked to them, either,” Zeke gives Reiner a look and he shakes his head, “Not even Berthold.”

“What happened to you, man?” Zeke takes another deep inhale of the cigarette and Reiner’s eyes close in on the way smoke ribbons out and above them. Reiner takes too long to respond and ends up having the smoke exhaled into his face, “I mean, I know what happened. But what happened? You just…” Zeke wets his lips and looks away, “Historia was the only reason I knew you were alive.”

“I don’t know, I just couldn’t - it would’ve been so fucking awkward. So I just ran away before you all freaked out.”

Because how do you keep going? When everyone knows you want to die, how does life continue?

“It wouldn’t have been weird, we would’ve helped.”

“You’re not responsible for me, besides, I don’t know how encouraging you all are.”

Annie and Zeke were both condescending at best. Bertholdt was smothering. Porco hated him and he hated Porco. Pieck was probably his best option and she had better things to be doing.

He didn’t wanna do that to her.

“I’ve literally had to clean up your vomit, I think I can handle being open for a conversation.”

Zeke’s got a habit of making problems seem small and while Reiner can appreciate him trying to make it known that he’s available, he’d be lying to say it simply rolled off his back like the leers of the single mothers at Dottie’s school.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know how to,” Reiner presses his lips into a thin line before he speaks again, “Got a job - sort of. I assist at Dottie’s school,” he says your name and it feels like honey dripping from his tongue, “they offered and I, uh, didn’t have anything going on.”

“What’s it about?” Zeke takes another drag of his cigarette.

“What? Coming here?” the other man nods, then shakes his head, and Reiner waits patiently for him to continue.

“Yes and no. What’s with cozying up to my friend? I’m sure as shit that Armin didn’t plan on bringing you - and you seemed ready to sit there like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t know,” Reiner’s honest, and he knows that’s the last thing he needs to be right now with Zeke forcing daggers through his skull with that dead-eyed stare, “She’s nice to me. Draws hearts on my coffee cup and always offers half of her sandwich at lunch. Good company. We both hate Quentin Tarantino.”

Zeke nods, “Do you really see this going anywhere? Or is it just for you to get back on your feet?” in a rare display of sincerity, Zeke’s glaring simmers down into real eye contact - he stomps out his cigarette, “I’ll tell you now, if it’s the second one - you should pick another girl,” he juts his head to gesture inside, “She’s not the one for that.”

Reiner wants to ask why Zeke knows that and how he could come to that conclusion. He doesn’t. He lets the moment pass and decides that maybe one day you’ll think he’s worthy of sharing the details yourself. 

He wants to tell Zeke to not worry - that everything will be fine and he’s fine and you’re fine and everyone is going to be fine. What comes out instead is, “What are you? Her dad?”

“Very funny, shithead,” Zeke pulls open the door to the restaurant, “Go ahead and play puppy for the night. We’re gonna talk about you one way or another.”

…

Reiner agreed to go out two business days in a row, a task he hadn’t been able to manage since his early 20s. At Zeke’s insistence, he’d come to terms with the fact he needed to own up to his actions regarding their group and agreed to go on lunch with the group.  

If he had to guess, he spent more time staring in anticipation at the analog clock on the wall and digital clock on his wrist than actually doing work. And for that, he felt bad. He hoped you wouldn’t be counting on him on this particular day. 

Nine o’clock strikes and you wander into his makeshift office - you don’t teach second hour science, so you always come to spend the hour with him. 

“Hi,” you pat his shoulder as you approach, hopping up onto the desk, “looks like you’ve been busy.”

The stack of tests that Reiner would usually be half-through with by now has had a mere two paper decrease since you dropped them off earlier that morning.

“Sorry,” he sighs and rubs at his temples, “I’ve got a thing for lunch and I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like a child.”

“It’s not childish - whenever I have plans, my stomach hurts for, like, the whole day.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s called anxiety.”

“I can take the work home, if you want.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” you scratch at your chin and look away from him, “I just feel bad you’re doing all of this for free. I’d pay you if Armin and I weren’t paid so shitty.”

“Don’t- “ Reiner takes up his phone and checks the time - an hour until he has to leave, “I don’t mind. I like helping.”

“I’m glad, I still feel bad, though.”

“You’re honestly doing me a favor. I needed something to do.”

Even though those sentences should raise a few questions, you don't ask. He likes that. You know when to pry and when not to, he can appreciate that respect.

“I gotta prep for next hour, actually, but I hope you enjoy that thing you’ve got.”

“Thanks, I’ll try. Sorry again, for not doing- “

“Seriously, Reiner, please don’t worry about it. You’re perfectly fine.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

It takes Reiner two minutes to enter the restaurant Zeke told him about. He stands outside and debates lying, but only in theory - because he knows that if he actually does and leaves all his friends hanging, then he might as well delete their numbers.

He takes a deep breath and pulls the door open, spotting Annie as she sits in a booth far off to the side of the floor.

He sheepishly sits down and he isn’t expecting the way Bertholdt gives him an awkward side-hug or how Annie pats his shoulder. He isn’t expecting Pieck to smile so sweetly and take his hand in hers as she greets him. He isn’t expecting Zeke to say he already ordered Reiner’s favorite plate from the menu.

He didn’t think Zeke would remember.

Porco shows up after him - which he’s also surprised about. He didn’t think Porco would even come.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes trained on the smooth wood of the table, the others’ eyes burning through his bones and he kind of wishes you were sitting next to him so he could have your reassurance, “for everything. I - “ he feels his eyes burn and he has to close them so no tears can trace his face, “I just didn’t know how to look you all in the eye anymore.”

Nobody replies, each person is patiently waiting for him to wring his brain dry of all thought.

“I felt so ashamed of myself and I was too scared to be asked why. I didn’t want anybody thinking they weren’t enough or that I didn’t care. I didn’t know how to talk to anyone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Porco, bizarrely enough, reaches out first, he’s quiet for once. Only nodding in understanding and mumbling, “We weren’t mad.”

Pieck curls closer to Reiner and gingerly hugs him from the side, “I’m just sorry you felt like you had to worry about us while trying to heal. We look out for each other, don’t we? Let us take care of you.”

Reiner tries not to hunch over and weep like a newborn. He really, really tries not to - he doesn’t like crying in public. 

But he doesn’t succeed. 

And even though most of his friends aren’t emotionally intelligent enough to comfort someone like him, they all try.

…

You’re cleaning up the little office Reiner holds himself up in when he returns. You two lock eyes and you point at him, “Fired. No, I’m kidding. Your eyes are red, are you alright?”

“M’fine,” he waves off, “Emotional lunch,” he admits.

“Aw, I hope it went well, at least.”

“Really well, yeah.”

“That’s good.”

It’s the last hour of the day and you don’t teach, so with no Reiner to take up your time, you busy yourself with tidying the area.

Reiner watches you bustle about the room. Moving supplies and dusting surfaces as you go, he silently joins in and moves spare chairs and boxes around the area as you direct him. He likes the silent two-step you’ve both fallen into.

The bell rings and you both know what’s coming next. Or, you both know what should be coming next.

Normally, you and Reiner conduct a performance. You hold Dottie back for at least three minutes just to chat and get to know how she’s doing in school while Reiner rushes through the halls to get to the pickup center and pretend he just arrived at school.

Now, however, as you’re about to head out the door, Reiner catches up with you and grins, “I think it’s easier if Dottie just knows, now.”

He didn’t want her knowing that he didn’t have anything better going on, and disguised it as not wanting her to be distracted, but maybe he should’ve owned up to it earlier. He’s feeling good today, and maybe tomorrow will be utter shit - so he should live out this good day while it’s here so he can reflect on it when tomorrow’s drenched in muck and leaves him wishing for nonexistence.

“Feeling brave today, are we?”

More than you’ll ever know, is what he wants to say. But he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t bother replying aside from a light chuckle. You two enter the class at the same time and Dottie notices him almost instantaneously, her face lights up and she abandons her bag in favor of rushing to her father.

Armin approaches you as the two are reuniting after a grueling seven hours apart. He’s grinning but you can see past the shiny veneer and into the anger slowly rising beneath his skin, he claps you on the shoulder and mouths, ‘what the fuck?’

“Children,” you hiss in warning.

He shakes his head, whispering, “You’re insane.”

“It’s fine,” you slap his shoulder, “It’s literally fine.”

“Hey,” Reiner calls and you turn, he’s got Dottie’s bag in one hand and is holding her hand with the other, “we’re heading out.”

“Okay,” you look at Armin and shrug, walking over to the father and daughter, “I should be monitoring the pick-up area, anyway.”

Armin’s eyes widen and he has to restrain himself from jaw-dropping at the blatant lie you just spewed. There’s teachers who are scheduled to watch the pick-up area and neither you nor Armin is the one to do that.

Armin catches you by the arm and whispers in your ear, “You look desperate.”

You shrug and whisper back, “He looks hot.”

“Miss, Miss,” Dottie abandons her father’s side in favor of hopping over to yours, “You missed it! Last hour, Mr. Arlert was passing back tests, right?”

“Right.”

“And guess what?”

You hum, pretending to ponder before giving up, “What?”

“I got an A!” she turns to Reiner, “Dad, Dad! Show her, show her! It’s in the big pouch!”

Reiner holds the office door open for you and Dottie as he speaks, “Maybe later, Dots, we’ve gotta go home now.”

“Good job, Dottie!” you beam, holding up a hand for her to high five, “I knew you could do it. Mr. Arlert and I are so impressed by your progress this year.”

“Here, sweetie,” Reiner hands the girl her bag and points to his car at the curb, “I’m gonna walk you to the car and then I need a quick word with your teacher, okay?”

“Okay,” she all but sings.

Reiner looks to you as though silently asking if that works, you nod just a little too quickly - a little too eager to fall under his palm.

Once Dottie’s safely in the car, Reiner rushes back to your side, scratching the back of his neck. Today’s a good day, so if it’ll be ruined - he should get it over with now, he supposes.

“Hi,” he keeps his gaze away from you, trying to tuck himself away from your eyes despite being as burly as he is.

“Hi,” you duck your head to force his eyes to meet yours, “everything okay up there?”

“I was just wondering, would you…” he can feel the swell of his gut and the way his tongue feels like sandpaper against his gums, “would you wanna go out sometime?”

You look shellshocked for a moment and it hits him what a dumb fucking thing that was to ask.

“God, nevermind, I’m dumb,” Reiner goes to turn but you gingerly take his wrist in your hand.

“No, I’m sorry - I just - I wasn’t expecting it,” you smile and Reiner wants to bury himself in the lines that curl into your skin as you giggle, “I’d like to go out, actually. It sounds fun. Just text me the place and I’ll meet you there.”

Reiner wants to be romantic and offer you a ride, but he doesn’t want to push in case you let go - so he lets it pass.

At seven, he meets you at a restaurant that he’s just able to afford.

And of course, right from the gate - he fucks up.

“I was surprised you actually wanted to come out, I read this thing that said if you date people younger than you it means you’re, like, mentally immature,” he immediately shakes his head, “Dunno why I said that - Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

“No, it’s fine,” you try to save him from embarrassment and he thinks it’s sweet, even though it is in vain, “And, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ve got kind of a thing for dilfs.”

“I’ve never been so glad to hear that phrase before.”

“Glad I can be of assistance,” when the conversation lulls, you suddenly blurt out, “I’m trying to get a new personality trait by listening to my dad’s favorite bands.”

“Oh, and what bands are that?”

“The typical old guy ones. Where if you’re driving through Arizona and 98 KUPD is on, you’ll hear a song and go - ‘hey, my dad would like that’ and when you bring it up he’s like ‘hey, I do like that song.’”

“Okay, they’re not old guy songs,” just as you go to ask why he’s so defensive about it, Reiner continues, “but if you don’t wanna sift through shit, I can put together a playlist for you, or something.”

You tilt your head and grin, “Aw, you’d do that?”

“Yeah, it really wouldn’t be that hard. Maybe two hours. Just to make sure it’s perfect,” he hopes you don’t get the sense he’s being dead serious, both so you don’t think he’s being weird and also so you don’t know how long he’d sit there curating a playlist just for you.

“Sure, if it won’t cut into your schedule at all - that’d be great.”

He almost wants to laugh at the insinuation he has a schedule. Reiner nods and smiles at the way you’re beaming.

“God,” you shake your head, “I’m actually pretty excited now.”

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint.”

“Aw, no - I believe in you,” he knows it’s only a throwaway line, but he can’t help but commit the way you say it to memory.

For when he needs it.

Later that night, Reiner would sift through his favorite songs - listening and relistening and re-relistening - just to find the perfect playlist for you. One to get you started, he reasons. One that’ll maybe make you check out the bands for more. One that you’ll enjoy enough to maybe ask him for more suggestions. 

And tomorrow morning, when Reiner is driving himself and his daughter to school and one of his favorite songs is on - he’ll realize that it now makes him think of you. And he can only hope that the rest of his favorite songs don’t follow suit.

Or maybe they should.

He likes thinking about you.

“Dad?” Dottie calls from the backseat.

“Yes, pumpkin?” he glances at her in the rearview mirror.

She holds up his phone that she’d been playing on moments ago, “Why is my teacher asking when your ‘next’ date is?”

Reiner has half a mind to pull over and snatch his phone back, but he doesn’t. He can wait a few minutes longer to tell you in person - when you’re holding out a coffee made to his liking with a heart drawn next to his name.

The next date is whenever and wherever you want - he’s already at your beck and call.

…

Dottie’s tenth birthday. You’re sitting at the Braun dinner table even though she hasn’t been your student for just under three years.

Gabi slides into the seat on your right and passes you her laptop, “Can you read my thesis statement? It’s kicking my ass to write and I have no clue if it’s right.”

“What’s your topic about?” you turn to the girl and she sighs, narrowing her eyes as she tries to recall.

“No homework at the dinner table,” Karina lifts the laptop from your hands and makes sure Gabi’s work is saved before closing it, “It’s your cousin’s birthday, be a little patient, sweetie.”

Gabi groans and tosses her head back, “If I don’t ace this essay, I’m fuc- “

“There’s the birthday girl!” you cheer as Dottie bounces through the doorway, her father following after with a too-tight party hat string looped around his head.

Dottie bounds into your arms and squeezes with all the strength in her little arms, “Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming!”

“Of course, I came,” you don’t ruffle her hair only out of respect for the work Historia had put into it before waving off her daughter to celebrate her birthday with her father, “Wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world.”

Reiner sits in the chair on your left and takes his daughter into his lap, he turns to you and takes your hand in his - pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You grin, leaning over to kiss the man’s cheek and taking delight in the way his cheeks still tint pink - even after the years you’ve been together.

You two hold hands as Dottie opens her gifts and he whispers in your ear how much he loves you - and you turn and whisper back how you love him more. Reiner has imagined a life like this, he’s glad he can finally have it.

He’s overjoyed, however, that you’re the one he’s lucky enough to live it with.

#Daddy'sDayOut #reiner x reader #reiner x y/n #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun x y/n #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk x you

[smartycvnt]

No Matter

Title: No Matter

Pairing: Dottie Underwood x Reader

Summary: Dottie finally returns to Ash after helping Peggy, but she comes back different.

Word Count: 430

Warnings: none

Ash was far beyond worry whenever Peggy reached out to her. Ash had begged Dottie not to go chasing after Peggy Carter, but the woman was stubborn. She couldn't recall a time whenever Dottie hadn't been fixated with Peggy Carter. Dottie had been adamant that this was going to be the last time, and as Ash watched Dottie stumble towards her, she believed it. However, Ash knew that Dottie wasn't finished with Peggy on her own accord. Something had happened because Dottie wasn't right.

"Dot, honey, are you okay?" Ash called out. There was no answer from Dottie, who just continued to walk along the gravel driveway towards Ash's house. Ash rushed over towards her as Dottie stumbled. It wasn't like Dottie to be so out of it, and it hurt Ash to see her like that.

"We're not ready," Dottie mumbled. It had been months since Ash had seen Dottie, and weeks since Peggy had reached out to her. They had gone their separate ways after Peggy had left Dottie for dead. Ash scooped Dottie up into her arms and carried her inside.

"Dot, what happened?" Ash asked. Dottie looked up at Ash with a look that Ash had only ever seen on shell-shocked veterans. Dottie had been through Hell and back, so whatever she had been through had to be unfathomable.

"I don't want to talk about it. She's going to end the world, we're all doomed, Ash, doomed!" Dottie was in hysterics. Ash had never seen her so distraught before. It was like she was a completely different person now.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay. The world won't end, I simply won't let it. Not when I have you back in my arms," Ash promised.

"I don't think you can stop this, Ash. I think this will swallow us all up in the end. There's nothing we can do about it. I felt it Ash, she touched me with whatever was inside of her and I can't stop feeling it," Dottie sobbed. Ash felt her heart break with each panicked word that left Dottie's mouth.

"Well, then we can take solace in the fact that we're together. Nothing will take you from me again Dottie, absolutely nothing. If we die, we die together. It'll make it even easier to find one another on the other side." Dottie didn't understand how Ash could be so optimistic about the end of the world, but she did take comfort in it. Unlike Peggy and company, Ash wasn't going to abandon Dottie whenever things looked like they were getting tough.

#dottie underwood x reader #dottie underwood #agent carter x reader #agent carter #marvel x reader #marvel #my writing #one shot

[bracketsoffear]

Jane Marple (Agatha Christie) "First of all, she is famously known for her detective ability, which some might suggest puts her in the realm of the Eye. However, much of her detection ability relies less on hard evidence and more on her ability to recognize patterns of behavior and understand the connections between people that she has witnessed mirrored in her various neighbors over the years. Her keen understanding of these connections makes her a great detective, but it also makes her a great Weaver of Webs, as she is able to use people's perception of her as a harmless, somewhatt dotty old woman to achieve her own ends. Criminals don't take her seriously. Nice young people indulge her and perform the heavy legwork that she is incapable of. In every novel, the other characters move around her as she subtly nudges them in one direction or another, a spider at the center of her web.

Now, some of you may be thinking, "So she's manipulative, so what? She isn't scary." Not so! While, granted, she must keep up appearances of harmlessness to achieve her aims, those who know her best are wary of her skill. On some occasions, she has even been compared to Nemesis, the Greek goddess of revenge, for her ruthless way of cutting to the heart of a crime. While she puts onn a facade of innocence, rest assured that by the end of each of her novels, the culprits know fear.

[To move briefly into the speculative; how easy it would be for someone like Miss Marple to commit a crime? Not directly, of course, not when she is so old and frail and harmless -- but, as demonstrated in The Mirror Crack'd, all you really need to form a motive is the wrong words at the right moment, and dear old Jane has such a penchant for gossip. And the punishment is meted out, and the punishment for the punisher approaches, and the spider's hunger is sated. After all, if one wishes to catch a fly, they first must weave their web…]

TLDR: Old woman's calm, sweet exterior hides a keen understanding of the dark side of human nature, which she uses to quietly catch and entrap murderers. She even knits!"

Clarimonda (The Spider) ""Die Spinne" reads like a Web statement, and like a statement it can be hard to parse what's really happening from the perspective of someone who is actively being mind-controlled. As such, who or indeed what Clarimonda is is extremely ambiguous. We know that, at the beginning of the story, she had already mind-controlled three people into hanging themselves from the same window in the same hotel room on three successive Fridays, and that a spider was found on or near all the bodies.

When the narrator moves into the room in order to investigate, she appears to him as a pretty woman in the flat across the street and slowly takes control of him. He compulsively watches her through the window and imitates her actions, believing at first that she is imitating his as a kind of Simon-Says-like game. Over time he realizes what's really happening to him and goes into great detail about his helpless terror. At one point he calls for help in a moment of lucidity, and afterward she makes him cut the telephone cord. His account concludes with him writing down that he has imitated her in the tying of a noose and is trying to focus on writing because he knows what will happen the next time he looks at her."

#web poll #the magnus archives #the web #poll #agatha christie #miss marple #die spinne

[emerals]

to hold you again (tangled au)

hi so i wanna talk about this au bc still i'm uncertain if i'm gonna include ty in it and i feel the need to ramble

so "to hold you again" is a tangled au!! it's a 4-part series that covers the three seasons of tangled: the series and an extra aftermath story!!

part 1: no time like the past

Louie Duck accidentally traps himself 200 years in the past with a timetub that combusted during the travel. Surrounded by strangers and with a war oncoming, he has to navigate through this old world for even the chance that he'll return to his time.

part 2: beyond the palace walls

With the rocks seemingly wanting to lead the princess somewhere, the group prepares to go on a year-long trip. Knowing the original history, Louie worries about betrayals and kingdom takeovers. But things have already proven to be different from his influence. Will this part of history change too?

part 3: destinies collide

[spoiler lol], a great evil has been unleashed. With lands being destroyed all around them, the group has to ready themselves for the largest threat they've ever faced. No one believes that they are ready, but they have to fight. They'll lose everything if they don't.

part 4: lost and found

[the entirety of the summary is a spoiler, my bad]

yes my oc's are in it- tis why it's being talked about here

none of these are really exact, but loose character roles/mixes

juniper - cassandra ximena - rapunzel/varian ozzy - eugene/cassandra ty - eugene/varian louie - rapunzel/cassandra

everyone else is kinda whatever

the sypnosis of the series is:

Shortly after every member of his family reappeared, Louie accidentally struck the timetub, sending him back 200 years in the past to the 1810s. The timetub busts, disabling Louie's ability to return home. Stuck in the past, Louie is captured and imprisoned during the war between the ghosts of the Lunaressence Kingdom and the people of the Solarfire Kingdom. Having heard the history of the war, Louie fears that if he doesn't do anything while in the dungeon, he'll lose his life. So, he rewrote history. 

in present time, the history is that the moonstone opal created the lunaressence kingdom and solarfire- the one with the most power- refused to call it a proper kingdom. so, as the lunaressence kingdom grew, it began to rival solarfire's power. not wanting to lose their spot in the hierarchy, solarfire launched an attack that killed the king, which led the lunaressence kingdom to fight back. a war started and lunaressence won, but all the other kingdoms turned on lunaressence causing it to become abandoned. slowly, the solarfire took out each of the kingdoms and destroyed germany in it's hunger for power.

this, however, is not the real history.

the real history is that ximena, the princess and sundrop of the solarfire kingdom went on an adventure to recover the moonstone opal to destroy the black rocks and save her kingdom. with her tagged along a few friends, including her best friend juniper (others were whittany and hunter). when they reached the moonstone, juniper had grown incredibly bitter and took the moonstone. however, she wasn't the true holder and it slowly drove her insane to the point she and her followers killed everyone in solarfire before moving on to the others- then lied about what happened to everyone and covered it up.

so... what happened to the other guys? well- ozzy and dottie initially died in the dungeon attack louie finds himself in upon entering the past, everett is part of another kingdom that eventually fell prey to lunaressence, and ty died when the rocks took over his village

but, when louie arrives, he doesn't exactly want to die, so... he rewrites history

i will not spoil the rest of the plot ;P

#dt thya #ozzy swan #dottie angels #everett mustelidante #hunter gundog #juniper passerine #louie duck #ximena avianta #whittany lop

[livfastdieyoung69]

ROCKSTARS NEVER DIE-

(Ch.2) A Nikki Sixx Story.

Rowan woke once again to a kick in the ribs with a groan.

“You know I’d be a lot happier if you stopped kicking me every morning.” Rowan grumbled into the same grimey, sweat stained pillow they had a week ago.

“Still not morning. And you have to go to that audition thing that one guy invited you to.”

“His name’s Mick.” They mumbled, moving to look over at their beloved guitar, a shitty worn down Stratorcastor modified to play their signature tone, only to find it missing. “Where the fuck is my guitar?”

“I had to take it last night when you came home at 4 am and started playing Iron Maiden songs as loud as you could turn your amp to.”

“Fuckin’ love Iron Maiden, man..”

“Yeah, I know. Do you know where this is and do I have to drive you? Cause Dotty asked if I could come in and if you want a ride we have to leave in like five minutes.” Holly rambled, her words getting faster as she tossed her light brown waves over her shoulder. Rowan took a minute to process what Holly had said.

“Uh…its..just up the road. I’ll just walk, Hols it's fine.” They finally spoke looking up to the girl towering over her from their place on the mattress.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind driving you.” Holly was always concerned about Rowan, which was fair enough with all of the dumb shit they seemed to do.

“Really it’s fine, I could use a walk. And a smoke.”

“Alright, well, I’m heading out then. Call the diner if you need anything, ok?”

“I will. See you, Hol!”

“See you, Ro!” She yelled before slamming the apartment door shut. Rowan struggled to get up from the mattress with a groan and a few sighs before finally getting ready for the day.

A harsh knock sounded on the apartment door, bringing the attention of the small group inside. A faint shout could be heard through the poorly built walls before the door knob began to twist. The door almost seemed to wobble as it was opened, a gust of wind giving off from the quickness of the skinny man on the other side.

“What can I do you for, dude?” Maybe man wasn’t such a good word. He was more of a young boy with a shining smile and mop of hair, the same complexity of Hollys, to match. A pair of drumsticks were sticking out of his belt.

“Um, Mick gave me your guys’ address.” They picked their guitar case up from off the ash-covered, cement ground. “I’m the guitarist- rhythm guitarist, I guess.”

“Oh, right on, man! Come on in, Mick just got here too. I’m Tommy and Nikki’s taking a piss but he's the bassist.” Rowan threw Mick a small wave from his place by his amp- M.M. carved subtly into the top. “Oh, and that’s Greg.”

The bathroom door opened to reveal who Rowan guessed was Nikki, still fixing his studded belt back on, and pulling the attention away from the blonde man- supposedly the other rythm guitarist they had at the moment. He looked up after closing the bathroom door behind him and clumsily pointing over at Rowan.

“Who’s this?” The question came out through a sigh as his eyes shifted over to Tommy’s. 

“I’m Rowan. Mick thought my sound would be cool with yours, so..” They finished with a shrug, eyes trailing through the room. 

“Wait- what the hell is this?” Greg spoke, clearly frusturated- or maybe threatened was a better description- by Rowans presence. 

“Chill, dude. They’re just someone Mick knows and we figured- might as well try it out.” Tommy tried to settle the man, the quiet of the apartment quickly returning very awkwardly.

“We have an extra amp if you need it.” Nikki spoke up, carrying an extra amp over to them.

“Uh, yeah thanks. Sorry, I couldn’t carry mine over, but I’ve got the cords and all my pedals.” Rowan finally set their guitar case down and opened it, shoving the cords over to Nikki so he could plug it in and lifting up their guitar- a dark red SG with pinstripe work Rowan had done themselves over many grueling hours and a couple homemade add-ons to the model that gave it just the right sound. 

“Tune that however you want, and we’ve only got one copy of the sheet music so I guess just play whatever feels good.” Rowan tuned the amp- which was smaller than the others, but not by much- as he continued talking. 

“That's fine. Can’t stand that fancy-ass sheet music shit anyways.” They mumbled in response. Nikki glanced over at Tommy’s drum set to find Tommy with the same amused look, mouthing “Mick 2.0” at him. Nikki chuckled at the younger boy before moving his eyes over to Rowan who continued with their tuning. 

“You can tune all your shit and we’ll play with….him first and then when we’re done we’ll play with you. See what sounds better.” He started walking over to his bass while he talked, pulling the strap over his head and strumming the strings of the unplugged instrument while he continued talking. 

They began quickly, Tommy counting the others in. Mick sounded just as good as he always did, which was fucking fantastic, but the Greg guy was too slow. Everyone else was pretty clearly aggrivated everytime he missed a note or fell behind. They didn’t even finish the song, Nikki had gotten annoyed and just stopped playing in the middle of it. 

“I’m ready when you are.” They spoke, flicking their pedals on with what was left of the rubber sole of their worn-down sneakers.  The amps hum grew from behind them, and Nikki seemed to be holding on to any sort of hope that they would sound good. 

The wooden sticks in Tommy’s hand clung together in the correct beat before Mick started strumming his guitar, Tommy and Nikki joining in shortly. Rowan stood with their eyes closed, hands twitching up and down the fretboard as they searched for the perfect note and listened to the others at the same time. As the drums picked up, Rowan waited for their opporunity to jump in, and did so quickly and effortlessly. 

Nikki and Tommy looked at each other once more, amazed at the sound coming from the SG- unheard, and unbelieveable. Mick watched them play with a sense of pride, but Rowan was oblivious to it all with their eyes still closed and mind on nothing but guitar. Nikki couldn’t have found a better fit- it was fucking perfect. Now to get rid of this Greg dipshit. Before Nikki could do anything about, Rowan did. 

“Yeah, so, I’m obviously better. You can, uh..” Rowan trailed off, clicking their tongue and pointing towards the door with their thumb. Greg laughed in a tone as if to say, “unbelievable”.

“Look, I was here first, alright. Tommy, tell them.” The clackering of Tommy’s drum stick made Rowan turn, finding Tommy bent over. “Nikki? Come on!” Nikki only shrugged. Greg didn’t even think of looking at Mick, they weren’t on good terms to start with. “Really?! You’re gonna listen to this weirdo over me?” Rowan gave the man a sardonic smile as he yelled over them at Nikki who only looked to the ground. 

“Then fuck you guys, man! And your shitty fuckin’ band.” He unplugged his guitar, and made a dash towards the door. It kinda sounded like he was crying as he slammed the door. Tommy let out a laugh from behind his drumset. 

“Well. Free amp.” Rowan spoke. They really were a bunch of assholes, huh?

“So….what's with the eye?” Apparently Tommy had a thing for asking rude questions to guitarists after admitting them into the band. Nikki sent him a frustrated whisper of his name, receiving a clueless look in return.

“What?” Sometimes Rowan forgot their left eye wasn’t normal, or functioning. “Oh! Uh,” Their hand moved to play with the dent left from a scar in their left eyebrow above the once brown, but now a cloudy white eye. “Just- somethin’ that happened when I was a kid.” After Rowan's avoidance of the question, the group of four went back into silence, the sound of Mick’s beer bottle clanging against the patio table set in the living room as one meant for dining

“Anyways..” Nikki looked over to Tommy while he spoke, still iriated with him. “We really need a fuckin’ singer. And I’m not about to settle for some regular looking, normal sounding asshole. We need a dude that looks like David Lee Roth with a vibe like fuckin’ Bowie.”

“So..we’re lookin’ for a skinny, blond fucker.” Mick stated.

“A skinny, blond fucker with moves.” Rowan corrected him, finishing off the rest of their beer, the same clashing that happened seconds earlier reoccurring before Tommy got the chance to respond.

“Wait-wait, I think I know our guy dudes.”

rowan got that dawg in em winning everyones hearts over in like thirty seconds

I’m actually pretty happy with this, and im really glad to be writing again, i actually think im boutta start writing the next chapter rn nikkis just been on my mind so much recently, my motley obsession comes back at least three times a year and i just reread the herion diaries and got his other two books so thats def not helping (also this is giving me an excuse to rewatch the dirt for all of the lines)

#nikki sixx x reader #LIV writes;*! #nikki sixx #rockstarsneverdie #Rowan sun #motley crue #motley crue x oc

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

@jewishicequeen​

Some FMA AU! ✨

Yakko already knew Plotz was an idiot just from one look at the guy. How was this guy a Colonel? He was so grumpy, so boring! If he kept pulling such grouchy faces he’d be stuck that way.

And, seriously, why didn’t he have a neck?

Okay, Yakko couldn’t judge people’s appearances all that much. It wasn’t like he and his siblings were particularly normal looking toons, especially not anymore.

But Plotz made the mistake of talking over Dot. He obnoxiously cleared his throat and said, “Pardon me, little girl, but I don’t believe I was speaking to you.” His eyes narrowed. “Now pipe down and let me do my job, Dottie.”

It was a death sentence. Rest In Pieces, Plotz.

Scratchy sighed heavily, already looking defeated.

Yakko smirked, lounging back in his seat. Wakko rubbed his metal hands together.

And Dot? She screamed, “CALL ME DOTTIE AND YOU DIE!” and slapped her hands together. There was a bright flash of light and Yakko could just about make out the sight of his little sister slamming her hands onto the floor.

He heard Plotz scream and, when the light cleared, Plotz had sunken halfway into the ground.

“Get me out of here!” he screamed as the Warners cackled.

“Good one, Dot!” Yakko whooped. Wakko laughed so hard he fell over with a metallic clang.

“Dot,” Scratchy sighed. “Please fix him.”

“No,” Dot said, hopping back into her seat with a scowl. “He can stay like that until he learns some manners.”

#fma au #fullmetal alchemist au #yakko warner #dot warner #wakko warner #yakko wakko and dot #animaniacs #animaniacs fanfic #dr scratchansniff #thaddeus plotz #the warner siblings #the warner brothers #and the warner sister #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma #fmab #requests #writing requests #my writing

[friendshipgirl]

Daniel: Tell me my love... may I call you Dottie...?

Dot: No... ( coughs ) Just Dot... Call me Dottie... and... you... die... ( passes away )

( Daniel cries over his dead love as he clings onto her for dear life )

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #cannon x oc #oc #follow me on da #wakkos wish #sad #fake quotes #au #I can just imagine the pain Daniel must feel losing his girlfriend Dot

[princesssarisa]

Oc Info Questions: Yakko, Wakko and Dot (Animaniacs)

FULL NAME: Yakko Warner, Wakko Warner, and Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca Warner III

NICKNAME(S): None for the boys, "Dot" for their sister (but call her "Dottie" and you die).

FACECLAIM: N/A.

BIRTH: February 30th, 1930, or so their insane creator Lon Borax claims.

DEATH: N/A.

ZODIAC SIGN: Pisces.

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual.

GENDER: Male (Yakko), female (Dot), and non-binary with he/him pronouns (Wakko).

ORIGIN: Burbank, Los Angeles County, CA.

NATIONALITY: US American, though Wakko has a Liverpool accent just because it's funny.

FAMILY: Each other.

CHARACTERISTICS:

+ Funny, intelligent, witty, resourceful, friendly, fun-loving, energetic, fair-minded

– Mischievous, disrespectful, prone to annoying people (in a funny way), too horny toward the opposite sex

WEAPON OF CHOICE: Mallets, anvils, cannons, dynamite, Dot's pet monster, or anything else that's funny.

OTHER PERSONAL INFO: These three are worthy successors to the classic Loony Tunes characters and to the Marx Brothers. Maybe that explains why they let the Warner Bros. studio heads lock them in the water tower and stayed there for decades, even though, as cartoon characters who can teleport, they could have escaped at any time. In their birth era, they would have been in competition with other cartoons and comedians who in some ways were too much like them. But by escaping in the '90s, they helped to define the childhoods to countless '90s kids and became the icons they deserved to be.

#oc info meme #animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #fictional characters

[wakkotheeater]

Dot Warner is done! Hopefully you appreciate the art of my little cute sister -p-

Call her dottie.. you die-

#animaniacs #dot warner #dot fanart #animaniacs fanart

[crazy56u]

Okay, shopping cart accident to one side, I’m home now. Let’s go.

Tonight, on a very special “Quantum Leap”, we remind you that 2012 was about 11 years ago.

Oh fucking God, Party Rock Anthem…

Okay, it looked like Ben punched her to the floor.

“You love basketball.” Interesting time to pint that out.

“Ben, call it a hunch, but I think you have to save basketball.”

“Amanda, if you don’t rest your ankle, I’m banning you from basketball.”

You didn’t have to cue Party Rock Anthem back up, guys…

Gia should’ve done a Space Jam, but she got the job done regardless.

Now Ben, as you can tell, you are not leaping yet, so welcome to the long haul.

Ah, we’re getting right into the transphobia, delightful.

“And she’s your daughter.” She just called Ben “Dad”, no fucking shit.

I too sadly stare at high school trophies when confronted with dickhead teenagers yelling at my daughter.

In-fighting amongst the team, and Ben being scolded by the principal for having his trans daughter play basketball, we are starting off on a cheery fucking note…

“Look, my daughter can fucking grow a new ankle all I fucking care, you are the asshole here, not me!”

Calling it: In 8 years time, Amanda’s mom becomes a full blown Karen. I can technically say that since “Karen” didn’t enter the public consciousness until 2020, she doesn’t count yet in 2012.

Well, I commend Gia for trying to make light of a shit situation.

Also, dollars to donuts the principal was the one to make her use the janitor’s closet as a changing room.

Why the fuck would they use a real helicopter for “Miss Saigon”? You remember what happened with “Twilight Zone: The Movie”, right?

Ben already changed history, neat.

So, Ben has to make sure Gia has to not run away, got it. How many transphobes does he need to beat up to make this happen? Can that be the episode?

Moral of the Story: Being an ally is for scrubs, being an accomplice gets shit done.

Why am I convinced this bar is in Texas?

Also, is Janis still at the Project, or was she allowed to leave after saying a name?

Dottie, you are clearly lying about not knowing Ben, why are you lying to Ernie Hudson?

Dottie is such a sick-ass poet, the government hates her. That’s awesome.

So, while Ben is fighting transphobia in 2012, Magic and Jenn are attending a poetry slam in Not Texas.

March 13th, the scariest March. So, watch as it turns out that day was actually super bad for Dottie, and I become an asshole.

“Management here is sus.” Among Us has done a lot of fucking damage to society.

[My phone wanted to autocorrect “damage” to “Sam anger”, just FYI.]

If only “Angry Birds” was still a good game in 2023…

“I can’t believe you put her in the game without giving me a head’s up first!” It was the last 30 seconds, and Amanda had a shit ankle, stop trying to make Ben the bad guy here!

“Don’t make me the enemy, I’m already doing that to you!”

Okay, I count that as confirmation of my “Amanda’s mom becomes a Karen” theory.

I think you need to block that number, ma’am.

“I-I didn’t think-” “That’s right. You didn’t think.” Ma’am, remember how you told Ben to not make you the enemy? Yeah, that’s a two-way street.

Ma’am, I am willing to bet Gia’s going to regionals, I hope you are prepared for that.

I love how Ben indirectly asked “Why couldn’t this episode just be basketball?”

“They banned trans people in the military?” Oh, I wish to fucking God they were allowed to directly shit on Trump here…

“The point is, we saw it coming, and we[…] didn’t say anything.” A tale as old as time.

I love it when my wholesome time travel show openly admits it wants to fix the bullshit of 2017, but can’t yet.

“[soft cheerful music]” is not a caption this episode deserves.

I love how the episode is blatantly making this a wholesome family moment to set the audience up for more bullshit at that car wash. I saw the trailer.

I fucking felt myself die hearing Ben say “Swag”. Certain things were left behind in the 2010s for a fucking reason.

And now there’s a debate between Twilight and Hunger Games. I am fucking old.

“Bella is totally useless without Edward or Jacob.” Show, I did not fucking sign up for debates about the lore of Twilight, stop this.

“Who needs The Hunger Games if you got high school, am I right?” Mic drop.

And now the episode enters hardcore “This is the fucking moral” mode.

Nothing like a dance party to make life better.

Okay, legitimate question: How much of this speech was written, and how much of this is ad-libbed from personal experience?

Okay, time for the fun car wash scene set to Carly Rae Jepson, clearly things will not get bad!

Oh goody, Amanda’s mom is also here, I already do not have high hopes!

[Fun fact: I dabbled in car washing as a kid one summer. That lasted only a week; when I tried washing my sister’s car, she got annoyed that I didn’t do a good job, and when she tried doing it herself, she sprayed me in the face with the hose out of anger. That’s why I don’t wash cars anymore.]

“Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s tonal whiplash, I guess sorry, maybe.”

Ohhhhhhh, I hope that wasn’t the principal’s car…

…so, of course it was actually Amanda’s mom’s car…

Ben is getting fed up with this mom, and I agree with him.

Boy, I already know what the principal has in mind for “protecting girl’s basketball”, and I already am mad.

Ben is legitimately knocking some skulls to protect Gia. Father of the year.

“Okay, let me tell you a story. It’s about me.”

“Dad, I bet it sucked for Ben Song…” “You don’t know the fucking half of it.”

“And every time I smell Febreze-“ Holy fucking tonal shift, Batman.

“She called it loneliness, but I called it toast.” …you were having a stroke?

Magic is having a religious experience in this poetry slam.

I love how she didn’t even say a name, and yet Amanda’s mom instantly owned up to being the complainer. No fucking subtlety.

Amanda, why are trying to be cordial at this point, your mom is currently making shit worse, and both you and Gia know this.

Okay, fuck it. She’s a full-blown Karen now. The evolution is complete.

Please, please let her slap the shit out of Amanda’s mom…

Amanda, there is only one reason why you would say it would be different. You know that, right?

I love how the principal has just decided to cowtow to Amanda’s bitch-ass mom.

I now really fucking hate the principal. Way to fucking go, you made shit worse!

And now Gia’s going to run away! Good job all around!

“This isn’t my first runaway kid, let me tell you about an earthquake in ‘89 sometime.”

Maybe basketball will help fix everything…

Look, Gia, if it makes you feel better, there’s a decent chance karma is going to bite Principal Kruger and Amanda’s mom both in the ass hard.

“Why don’t you grownups figure out how to make school safe for everyone?!” Gia? Hi. I’m from 2023. We’re still waiting for that question to be answered…

Ben has indirectly said the principal can go fuck herself.

Okay, cool, Amanda has decided to stop giving a shit about her mom.

“You’re really going to put your job on the line for this stunt?” “Go fuck yourself, ma’am, I’m fucking Ben Song.”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to achieve with this?” “Well, ma’am, I think we’re about to go to regionals.” I honest to God wish Ben flipped her off after saying that. You know for a fact he wanted to.

Okay, time for the most important game of basketball all episode.

The only cheaters I see are all the assholes holding up the shitty fucking signs trying to psyche Gia out.

That was Ben’s “Remember the Titans” speech.

I love how everyone at the Project is getting in on the action.

And Ian goes into the Imaging Chamber.

“Look, the principal wanted me to make you pull your daughter, but I ain’t her fucking lackey. Instead, I just want to tell you good luck, we’re all counting on you.”

Yeah, get fucked, society, the Union saves the day yet again!

Annnnnnd I was wondering when Katy Perry would poke her head into the door…

I love how Ben leapt there.

Meanwhile, back at the poetry slam.

“Dottie, you got Quantum Leaped.”

So, I guess Ian’s the secret leaper.

Meanwhile, Hell’s Kitchen.

“Awesome! I get to be a cook! Nothing bad can happen!”

[On an unrelated note, the promo revealed that the next episode involves the restaurant burning down that same day.]

All in all, I am now doubly upset I couldn’t watch this live. And that’s not even factoring in there’s another three week gap.

Also, my pet theory is that Principal Kroger gets sacked soon after that game.

#quantum leap #spoilers #let them play #cw: discussions about transphobia #twilight #the hunger games #airplane #next episode promo

[somescenecatholic]

Zubi

Leader of the group

Fearless and beautiful

Always takes a ladder with her

Big fan of dancing

Age: 3 months



Yakko

Second-in-command when Zubi isn't around

Used to be leader but he thought Zubi would be great for the job

Deeply cares about Zubi and how she's feeling

Always in need to help his friends and siblings

Age: 4



Katie Kaboom

Fights over being the oldest with Cora

Can turn into a monster

Obsessed with Bratz dolls

A Tomboy

Age: 6



Wakko

Always wears a red winter hat

Likes frosty donuts and not jelly

Master at belching

Likes playin Smash bros. with Katie

Age: 2



Cora

Fights over being the oldest with Katie

Rich and spoiled

Obsessed with Barbie dolls

A Girly girl

Age: 6



Dot

Zubi's best friend

Cute and knows it

Call her Dottie and you die

Big sister of Zubi

Age: 10 months



Skippy

Half Hispanic

Looks a lot like his mom

Supposed to be protecting Dot but she protects him

Nephew of the babysitter

Age: 11 months old

zubi is just outta the womb and she's already a leader 😭

[likea-black-widow-baby]

marry, one night stand, best friend: angie, rose, dottie

I appreciate that even after the horror show I put you through you gave me a nice one

Spouse: Angie, even though I think it would be weird. We're quite similar people, in a lot of ways it would be like being married to myself. She talks a lot and I can't always handle that, but I would support tf out of her acting career and go to every play she was in. We would cook and bake together <3

One night stand: Dottie. I feel like she would ask to call me Peggy and leave me bleeding on the bed, but I am prepared to deal with that.

Best friend: EXCUSE ME, Rose Roberts best friend ever??? She's ride-or-die, she's funny, she's badass, she's a fantastic people-reader, she takes no bullshit but she's patient. She probably gives fantastic hugs. I would sell my soul to be friends with Rose Roberts, 11/10

#it's an ask! #bestie: edna #agent carter #mundie says things