Corporal Levi Rivaille. Everyone is to be put on cleaning duty until I can grow taller.
Pissy brats. Go find me some Windex.
Also, screw the police.

Ao3: reimiyabi

(May occasionally reply with awful drawings. PC busted, so on MOBILE until recovery. The gif background of Drunk Rivaille is mine, nothing decent is, tho, hehe. And I know my playlist doesn't match the background this blog is full of angsty crap and sadness and feels I swear there is nothing quality here except Levi's character)
"Want to rob a bank?"




"No. I rather not, Sir." Annie said coldly.

 I snort. “That wasn’t a request, brat. Get into gear.”

Annie glared at the man. “Fine…But if this blow up, I’m not going down for it”

"You won’t be going down. You’ve got me on your side." I whip my head up, surveying the empty sky and the pinnacles of towers that spike round the edges of my view. "It’s all clear. Now. Let’s screw with those MPs."

Reblogged from dalmatianbrigade  1 note



"Uh-oh, Shy." Selene snickered, elbowing the taller man in the side. "Maybe the bossman’s heard talk of you intimidating rations off the MPs."

Shiloh scowled, shoving the fair haired woman further away from him. “Shut your mouth, Selene. Why don’t you go do your job?” Instead of outing his questionable off the job activities.

 I glare at the both of them—not that it did much good. “Want mucking duties, cadets? I suggest you seal those lips and get to training. A tip here, but I’m sure Titans aren’t very fond of lean meat that attacks back. Get some skills, then question me.”