#ackerm

[melishade]

Attack on Prime Winter Anthology: Leaves

Main Story

“Oh no,” Sasha dreaded with a grimace, glaring at the trees standing outside of Trost.

“What?” Connie questioned as he walked up to her.

“It has begun,” Sasha sneered.

“Sasha, if you’re gonna keep acting like that, we’re leaving you,” Jean declared.

Sasha stomped over to the tree and pointed at the now red leaves. She then pointed to the ground where all the dried and dead leaves laid. “Winter.”

“Oh,” Connie emoted.

“Damn it. I’m going to have to stock up on sweaters,” Jean whined, “I might have to go back to mom.”

“Mama’s boy,” Connie smirked.

“I am not going to turn down a free gift from my mom,” Jean retorted, “‘Sides, I haven’t visited her due to everything that’s been happening.”

“Who cares?!” Sasha shouted, “The land becomes barren! There is no good game! It becomes cold! And those stupid leaves are a sign that it’s beginning!”

Sasha grunted, angrily stepping on the leaves in a fit. Jean and Connie could only watch with apathy, somewhat expecting this kind of reaction from the huntress. Jean then noticed the rest of the Survey Corps, including Optimus in his alt mode, approaching the trio.

“What the hell is she doing?” Levi demanded.

“Complaining,” the two teenage boys answered.

“No one likes winter!” Sasha shouted, kicking the leaves up in the air.

Hanji hummed in thought, staring up at the leaves, “Looks like it’s coming in a little early this time around.”

“What do we do about operations?” Mikasa asked her.

“Proceed as normal,” Hanji shrugged, “Sure, circumstances are different, but we’re not going to stop because of some bad weather. We’ll follow winter protocol, stock up on supplies. Hopefully the construction of the port won’t be slowed down. Wait, can it snow at the beach? Interesting thought.”

“It can,” Optimus answered, “The island, according to maps, is in the northern hemisphere. If this planet operates in a similar manner to Earth, it should be moving further away from the sun in it’s rotation.”

“...I feel like we’re going to need a new lesson on how the seasons works.” Armin commented.

“One thing at a time,” Hanji sighed in response, “I’m no doubt going to have to fill out a report.”

“There may be some difficulty transporting materials from the neutral ship,” Optimus informed.

“Really?!” Hanji exclaimed in surprise.

“The ship is further north,” Optimus reminded, “I do not know how much snow will accumulate for the next few months.”

Hanji groaned at that before walking towards Sasha. “Move over! I want to stomp on some leaves!”

“Yeah!” Sasha cheered her on.

“Hey, Optimus,” Eren began, walking up to the truck, “Are you...going to be okay?”

Optimus was a little surprised by the concern. “Why do you ask?”

“People...well, humans tend to get sick around this time,” Eren explained, “But if you get sick we...don’t know how to help you.”

“Eren, I am immune to human-based virus and bacteria,” Optimus informed him, “And as far as I know, diseases familiar to the average Cybertronian are not here on the island.”

“But can’t the cold hurt you or something?” Eren asked him.

“Prolonged exposure can be harmful,” Optimus said, “But I will be able to manage. I can assure you that I will be fine.”

That seemed like it was enough to quell Eren’s concern as he turned his attention back to the two women stomping on the leaves, which had now grown to add Connie and Jean. Optimus turned his side-view mirror to see Levi not happy about this in the slightest, but didn’t bother to speak up.

But...Optimus hadn’t considered winter being such a complication before. On Earth, the Autobots resided in the desert. It would be hot in the day and cold at night with the occasional downpour of rain. No snow. And even if it did get cold or hot, the silo had a air conditioning system to regulate temperature. On this world, or at least the island, they only had the means to produces torches, oil-lamps, and fires. He can’t say much about Marley or any other country because he hasn’t been there.

And Optimus....didn’t like the cold. He’s had one too many near-death experiences in the Arctic, and he would prefer that number to not increase. Not to mention, he didn’t know how cold the neutral ship was going to get. The cold killed off some of the scraplets on the ship, but not all of them. But there was a hole in the side of the ship that needed to be closed to keep the cold air out. He wasn’t even sure if Megatron would help, or even stay on the island while this was happening.

Needless to say, these next few months were going to be...taxing.

(And the Winter Anthology has begun! I feel like this winter anthology might go until March, or like the first day of spring. Idk. Maybe it’ll just go until the end of December. I’m not going to be posting every day though, especially since I made it clear that I want to enjoy the holidays since I’ll be done with my Master’s by December 13th. I already have quite a few topics in mind, but if you have any other recommendations, I’d be more than happy to hear them.)

[djarinova]

You should take it as a compliment / That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)

levi ackerman x gn!reader content - meet cute adjacent, mostly just abit of staring, cigarettes + alcohol mention, modern au words - 900 reputation event masterlist

You can almost feel his eyes piercing the back of your head. A part of you wants to whirl around, to find where he's watching you from, to walk up to him and introduce yourself properly and formally, to steal him from the droves of boring people he has to speak to.

But you don't. You can't. It wouldn't be proper. Instead, you tap your fingers against the side of your leg and lean closer to the man—what's his name? James, Jeffrey… something with a J, you're certain—in front of you, trying to make out what he's saying. The conversation has been going on far too long, if you can even call it a conversation when you haven't been able to speak a word for the last 10 minutes, and your feet are beginning to ache from standing still so long—shifting your weight back and forth has kept the pain at bay for as long as it could.

He hasn't said a word to you since he arrived, although you're not sure when he would've been able to find the time, as it seems he's the most popular—or hassled—person at the party. You heard the whispers start as soon as he had stepped foot through the door.

“Is that really him?”

“There's no way he actually came!”

“I'm surprised he came alone! Doesn't he usually bring dates to these types of things.”

“I heard he's still close with the founder, y’know, Mr Smith? They've been close since their university days.”

“Mr Ackerm–”

“–evi Ackerman…”

“–Levi Ackerman–”

Of course you'd heard of him—Levi Ackerman—hard to get an invite to a party like this without knowing his name, and the reputation that preceded him. You never heeded the gossip, figured that most of it was born out of some kind of jealousy. But still, it was hard to ignore the eyes following his every move, and the whispers growing louder and louder the more people helped themselves to the complimentary champagne.

You try to keep your focus on mingling with the other party goers. Keep yourself busy with the pleasantries and the somewhat fake niceties, but as the umpteenth middle aged man with whiskey on his breath and unkempt hair attempts to compliment you into working for them—or into going home with them—you find your networking facade begins to slip, and so you excuse yourself from conversation.

You're half way towards the exit door when you find him again. He's stood by the window now, and you can see an unlit cigarette rolling through his fingertips.

Your feet root themselves to the floor for only a moment as you lock eyes with Levi, but it's enough to draw his attention fully away from the men talking to him. It's as though everyone else falls into the peripheral when he looks at you. He raises his eyebrow—an inquiring glance—but all he can do is watch as you scurry towards the coat check booth, your cheeks hot and your heart racing.

You mumble the number on your ticket as you slide the thin piece of paper across the desk, quickly thanking the woman as she hands you your jacket.

It's amazing just how quickly an event can go from easy to something you can't get away from fast enough.

And yet a part of you still wishes you were inside, even as the cool night air hits your face and reminds you that, no, this isn't all you are, there is so much more to your life and your job than these stupid networking parties, you find yourself missing the stuffy, intoxicating party.

Or, maybe more accurately, you miss him—his eyes on you, the soft smiles and the bashful, almost wary, looks from across the room. It's peculiar, you think, that your paths have never directly crossed before—that you and Levi have both attended the same parties, events, meetings, even lunches together numerous times and yet you've never had to speak a word to each other.

You make your way down the stairs, hoping to be able to call a taxi and make a quick getaway before your coworkers realise you're missing. It's quiet outside, empty, you count 7 people between the door and the bottom of the stairs—seemingly most of the party goers decided to take their smoke breaks on the few scattered balconies as opposed to the front of the building.

Only one other person is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and as you descend closer and closer to him your thoughts are suddenly able to catch up to why your heart is thumping so loudly.

How did he manage to get in front of me?

You blanch at the realisation—you'll have to walk past him to get to where you need to go. Your mind swirls, heat creeps up your neck and you're sure a shiver is threatening to crawl up your spine.

You pause again, just for a moment, as you reach the final step. And Levi looks up at you. Not a small glance, not a discrete look from across the room. He is clearly and unmistakably looking at you, as if for the first time. It's odd, being so close to him, having his undivided attention and knowing that no one is around to interrupt.

You wonder if he can sense your nervousness.

Your eyes flit down to his hands, and you see the still unlit cigarette.

“Care to join me?” He asks.

[garotadoinverno]

Durante toda a sua vida, sempre ouviu sobre como cada coisa que acontece na vida molda o caráter do ser humano. Independente dele escolher ou não aquilo para a vida dele, existiam coisas que simplesmente estavam fora do controle. Mikasa viu muito disso em seu último ano estudando em Mahoutokoro. Parecia até que estava prevendo que alguma coisa ruim poderia acontecer consigo, só pela forma como ela enchia o saco e perturbava cada um de seus professores, falando que eles não se dedicavam o suficiente, que o futuro de todos aqueles estudantes, especialmente o dela, estava basicamente na mão de cada um deles. 

A história dos Ackerman já não era das mais fáceis, foi uma sequência de mortes que ninguém conseguia explicar direito como e porquê havia acontecido. Perdeu duas das pessoas que mais gostava nesse mundo. Sua avó e seu irmão. Não bastava apenas o psicológico de Mikasa que havia sido afetado no processo, o de sua mãe também que foi obrigada a dar um fim na vida do próprio filho, para que elas não seguissem o mesmo caminho da avó. Não existia uma resposta fácil, um caminho menos complexado. Ela era uma pessoa muito forte, mas somente aprender a lidar com a “maldição” dos Ackerman’s não era o suficiente, não quando existia um assassino lá fora que queria brincar com a mente dela e que praticamente conseguiu. Parecia que todos os anos que levou aprendendo a aceitar e a lidar com todos os sentimentos que tinha, voltaram para assombrá-la ao longo das noites. Como era cansativo ter que ficar blindando a própria mente o tempo todo, ainda mais quando todos ao seu redor pareciam lidar tão bem com tudo o que estava acontecendo. Por que só ela não conseguia se blindar? 

Ela passou a cobrar o dobro de si, claro que sempre poderia contar com Sakura que era sua companheira de quarto e com Satoru, que mesmo parecendo perdido em como ajudá-la, sempre a tentava distrair de alguma forma. Mais mortes foram acontecendo ao seu redor, as crises de ansiedade começaram a assolar seus pensamentos do nada. Sua vontade era de se isolar completamente de tudo e todos, mas sabia que não poderia fazer isso. Já havia entrado naquela guerra, era questão de honra tentar derrubar o cara que estava tentando mexer com sua cabeça ao ponto de torná-la uma marionete. Ela não iria aceitar isso sem lutar. Ela não queria ser um projeto mais novo do próprio irmão que perdeu o controle dos próprios atos para algum bruxo que ninguém sabia dizer quem era.

Durante as aulas de duelos ou combate, mesmo não estando 100% buscava dar o seu melhor e continuava sendo a aluna insuportável que ficava pegando no pé de todos eles, mas talvez nenhum tivesse noção do porque ela queria e desejava tanto aprender. Por isso, sua conexão com Ms Li foi automática, era a única aula que não reclamava. A única professora que quando falava com ela, ouvia sem abrir a boca para reclamar, porque sabia que independente do caos, a mais velha só queria o bem de Mikasa.

A guerra contra Yagami Raito foi um verdadeiro desafio, sabia que podia enfrentar, só não sabia se tinha forças o suficiente. Cada vez que via um ir ao chão, parecia que uma parte de seu coração ia junto, porque a próxima simplesmente poderia ser ela. Sequer conseguia medir com palavras a quantidade de sensações e emoções que a atravessaram. Quando o corpo do assassino foi ao chão, depois de garantir que Satoru, Sakura e Kanda estavam bem, ajudando todos a irem à enfermaria da escola, ela foi até a praia sozinha. Sabia que era um risco, porque a guerra parecia ter tido um final, mas ele poderia não ser o único. Nunca participou de uma antes, não tinha noção de como funcionava. No momento em que se ajoelhou na areia da praia observando o mar, começou a chorar como não havia feito há muitos anos, ao ponto de soluçar. Parecia que as lágrimas não tinham fim e pela primeira vez, talvez pelo silêncio e calmaria que estava naquele momento, não queria realmente conter. A intenção era colocar para fora tudo o que estava preso e assim fez.

– Ackerman?

Ergueu o rosto em direção a Mr Kobayashi que apenas ficou parado próximo a ela, sem realmente se aproximar, em um gesto sutil de que estava respeitando o espaço.

– Eu já vou me juntar aos outros, não se preocupe. – Porque a orientação é que todos ficassem juntos, era claro que em algum momento alguém perceberia seu sumiço.

– Gojo e Matsui já receberam os primeiros cuidados e, quando quiser, pode se reunir com eles. Achei que gostaria de saber.

– Obrigada, Mr. Kobayashi.

– Não por isso, mas se me permite me intrometer… Todos eles estão igualmente preocupados com você, então recomendo que não demore muito, não queremos ter que prender aqueles dois na enfermaria porque você sumiu.

Um sorriso sutil se moldou no rosto de Ackerman, assentindo em concordância.

Ser uma adolescente que passou por uma guerra era sempre esquisito. Depois de se formar, entendeu porque Ms Amane e Ms Orlov viam a guerra com um olhar diferente dos outros. O problema não era você ser uma sobrevivente de guerra, o problema é que quem sabia disso, e todos sabiam, graças a merda da medalha de ouro que o Ministério entregava a eles, sempre encarava como se fosse uma espécie de rato de laboratório, como se esperassem a primeira oportunidade para ter a própria versão do que foi relatado nos jornais. 

– Então você era estudante de Mahoutokoro? Ackerman, correto? A mesma aluna q-

– Agradeço a oportunidade, mas repensei e não quero mais a vaga. Agradeço o seu tempo.

E passou por uma sequência dessas entrevistas, onde no momento em que lhe questionavam sobre a guerra ou dava a entender que o fariam, virava as costas e ia embora. Não estava pronta para falar sobre aquilo com ninguém de fora. Havia perdido as contas de quantas vezes no meio da madrugada, acordou gritando com as memórias de guerra e como passava horas com medo de voltar a dormir e ter que relembrar aquilo tudo de novo, mais de uma vez.

O fato de Hanbin e Meimei terem a acolhido como filha, junto de Sakura, acabou ajudando um pouco a lidar com todo esse processo. Toda vez que passava mal, sofria com crises de ansiedade ou simplesmente surtava do nada, sabia que nenhum deles a julgaria por aquilo. Eles sabiam o que ela estava passando. Assim como Satoru, agora como seu namorado, era de fundamental importância nesse processo, sabia que poderia contar com ele em tudo o que precisasse, porque estaria ali por ela. Havia conseguido uma rede de apoio cercada de pessoas incríveis, cada um a seu modo.

– Você acha que eu seria uma boa professora? – A cabeça estava apoiada no ombro de Gojo, enquanto perguntava repentinamente. – Eu fiquei sabendo que Hogwarts está com vaga de estágio aberto… Ai eu pensei que talvez fosse uma boa. – Fez uma breve pausa suspirando. – Talvez fosse uma boa ficar um pouco fora da Ásia. – Com o passar do tempo, Mikasa já estava muito mais controlada, mas sua mente ainda era muito gatilhada em alguns pontos. Bastava ter o acontecimento certo para que ela ficasse em posição fetal novamente e quisesse se esconder do mundo. – Você poderia ir comigo, se quiser, é claro – Porque apesar de ser seu namorado, ele não era obrigado a mudar a vida dele completamente se não quisesse e era um direito dele.

Antes de pisar em Hogwarts teve uma conversa muito sincera com Peter, o diretor da escola. Não escondeu e nem precisava esconder, afinal, como MeiMei agora era diretora de Mahoutokoro, todo o histórico que ele precisasse, poderia facilmente conseguir diretamente com ela. Ele foi muito sincero ao informar o quanto Hogwarts era uma das escolas mais seguras entre os bruxos, mas que toda escola estava suscetível a falhas e que politicamente falando, não andavam nas melhores condições em Londres.  Com isso, Ackerman aceitou a vaga, porque o clima estava estranho em todos os países, poderia estar fora de segurança em qualquer outro lugar, mas ao menos poderia respirar um ar diferente e tentar um novo começo dentro de sua mente turbulenta. 

[killbilled]

- A Child of Evil

[everylevihan]

[rosaline-kei]

looking back, can’t believe one of my fics that’s more AruMika (platonic; but towards the end it’s somewhat vaguely hinted Armin feels smth more 👀) centric has a title that is now more well known in the EreMika fandom after that manga chapter 🤡🤡🤡😂 how turned the tables are huh

I was rereading it just now and fml it’s so cringe ugh.. i mean, not like much has changed-

[levi-supreme]

Levi x Reader with prompt 15 and 19, if that’s ok!

Hi anon!!! Wow, another one with the furniture I see XD There's no bed here but Levi's office shall do.

Characters: Levi x fem!reader

Warnings: SFW with suggestive content. Rough making out. Power imbalance (Levi is reader's superior). Some degradation/dirty talking.

15: Messy kisses, destroying furniture trying to reach the bed // 19: ''if we're caught kissing we're most likely dead but let's risk it''

You had no memory of how it happened, all you could recall was Levi's lips on yours as you breathed heavily, trying to make sense of your surrounding. The both of you were in a meeting earlier, and for some reason, Levi couldn't keep his eyes off you. He noticed how your dress was extremely figure-hugging today, and how nice your ass looked. You dropped your pen accidentally and when it rolled to Levi's shoe, you bent forward, your cleavage on show for him. Levi felt his cock harden and balled his fists, forcing himself to focus on the presentation and what he had to deliver.

As the meeting finally concluded, you stayed behind with Levi, awaiting instructions. Levi angrily buttoned his blazer and dragged you out of the conference room, making a beeline for his private lift.

"Mr Ackerman?" You questioned as your superior roughly grabbed your arm and tugged you towards the lift. The facial recognition scanned Levi's features and the doors immediately opened. Levi harshly pushed you inside and frowned as the lift door closed.

"Mr Ackerm—" Your speech was cut as Levi smashed his lip on yours, pinning you against the lift walls. He bit on your lip and you gasped, quickly pushing him away. "Mr Ackerman, what—"

"Don't act coy, brat. You know what you're doing," Levi stared at you with a devilish glare, loosening his neck tie and diving straight for your neck, going in for the kill. Heavy pants left your lips as you felt Levi bite and suck on your neck, his hands going underneath your dress to finger your entrance, pleased to find it already moist.

"So fucking wet. Having the hots for your CEO, brat?" Levi teased as he licked the spot on your neck he just bit and went to assault your lips once more.

"Mr Ackerman, we shouldn't—if we get caught—"

"Fuck it. I set the rules and I can break them however I want. And I know you want me bad too, don't you, you horny brat?" Reaching the top floor of the building, Levi kissed you harshly again as he manoeuvered the both of you clumsily from the lift to his office. Kicking the front door open, Levi knocked over the umbrella stand as he unbuttoned his blazer, throwing it aside while his lips were all over yours. You kicked off your heels, trying your best to undo Levi's necktie. Walking backwards, you had no idea where you were going, until the back of your knees hit the armchair, falling backwards and pulling Levi down with you.

Levi harshly pulled you back up, throwing his necktie somewhere and pushing you towards his little dining area. Your kisses were sloppy and wet as Levi back you against his glass dining table. Momentarily breaking the kiss, Levi swiftly unbuttoned his shirt and cleared the table with a swipe of his hand, the glassware and vase shattering to the ground. Bunching your dress to your hips, Levi made you lean forward on the dining table, staring intently at the mirror in front of you. Levi tugged your hair and spoke close to your ear:

"I want you to look at yourself as you get fucked, you dirty little slut."

Thirsty Thursday: A 100 Different Kisses

[akiradoodles]

Rivamika doodle ;; (with cat ears!!) 

shhh this is my rivamika au~~ (not the cat ears but how they act and sht)

Is it ok to spam? :c 

[ohctranscripts]

The 2nd Imaginary Symphony: An Orbiting Human Circus Holiday Special (Episode 2)

Augustus: Auggie Plumb here.  You are listening to part two of the PBC’s broadcast of the 2nd Imaginary Symphony.  It is, of course, Platypus Night, the night in our month-long lead up to Platypus Eve, where all Paris goes dark.  The city of lights is extinguished and one finds not a single lit electric light or candle.  That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, at the strike of 8 in two hours’ time, the Parisians will gather with friends, with loved ones, with only the moonlight to light their way, and later this evening, waiting, all of us, waiting.

And for whom do we wait?  Well, for those of you listening to this international broadcast in some remote enclave such as a mountaintop, jungle, cabin, or perhaps one of the Earth’s poles, we are waiting for the Great Recitating Platypus.  Yes, on this night, the platypus travels the Earth looking not for signs of stuffy noses or sickness, but for darkened houses, the dark house being a sign that the dwellers within are inviting the platypus to visit.

And we wait.  Our eyes close, as if in unison.  When the platypus enters your home, it shivers, entranced by a feeling of absolute peace.  The platypus will move through slighting certain objects, one for each of us, and touching them to its bill.  And when the platypus leaves our house, and we all open our eyes at exactly the same time, we light a candle and place it in our window and all of Paris spills out into the streets, and in the streets all of Paris wonders just which object the platypus has touched for them.  And we go through our bedrooms, and we go through our living rooms, from thing to thing.  We ask, ‘Is this the object the platypus blessed?’  For when you see that object, one will suddenly be seized with the same unmistakable feeling of warmth and safety one felt when the platypus had just left our house.

A memory or idea will pass into our heads and that will be the key to our well-being and happiness in the coming year.  And indeed in times of struggle or adversity, if the object is touched, the path to follow will come, and all of this tonight.

But first, part two of our classic holiday broadcast.  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the 2nd Imaginary Symphony.

[Music playing]

Narrator: “This raincoat is for use only in the most severe of drought emergencies!”

Nigh had never heard of a raincoat that is only to be used in the most severe of drought emergencies before, and was quite visibly shaken by the severity of Mr. Ackerman’s tone.

“You d-didn’t…” stammered Nigh.

“I didn’t what?”

“Tell me about the raincoat…”

“I didn’t… oh, my god, I didn’t.”

And there the two of them stood, neither boy nor man knowing quite what to say.

Mr. Ackerman sighed a sigh of such sadness that it made Nigh shiver.  “I… I’m sorry, Nigh, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.  I had no right.  I was afraid you were about to…”  Mr. Ackerman trailed off, and with a look of embarrassment on his face, knelt down to the height of the little boy.

“I’m afraid I’m… I’m just not feeling very well right now, Nigh.  You’ve been a very good boy today.  You know that, don’t you?”

Nigh shook his head yes, because the way Mr. Ackerman was looking at him, he thought he ought to.

“I think old Mr. Ackerman needs a little rest now,” he said to Nigh.  “You won’t forget what I told you here today, will you, Nigh?”

Nigh shook his head no.

“Okay, Nigh.  You go run along and play now.”

And so it was that Nigh became the guardian of a great and profound secret.  In the weeks and months that passed, Nigh never looked at the big factory or the clouds above in exactly the same way again.  The world seemed a new and exotic place to Nigh, where new mysteries waited to be discovered around every corner.  He would spend hours on the hill overlooking the big factory, watching the newborn clouds drift this way and that.

In the evenings, he would sit out on his front stoop, anxiously awaiting Mr. Ackerman’s return home from work.  It was the complicit look that he and Mr. Ackerman would share that he looked forward to most of all.

Nigh felt very lucky indeed to be the bearer of such a great and important secret, and dreamed some day of becoming a cloud-maker himself.  Cloud-making seemed so much more interesting than the other jobs he had learned about at career day in school.

When asked, Mr. Ackerman just shrugged and said, “Not anybody can be a cloud-maker, Nigh.  Sure, most anyone is capable.  But the title of ‘cloud-maker’ is something that must be earned.  Right now, you’re just a passenger, along for the ride.”

“A passenger?” asked Nigh.

“This world, Nigh, this world of men and women,” said Mr. Ackerman, his cheeks and nose a good deal redder than Nigh had ever seen them before, “little boys like you… you’re nothing but passengers.”

Mr. Ackerman was quiet for a moment, seemingly struggling to find the right words.  “It’s like… like a crazy carnival ride, gone out of control,” he said, his eyes widening.  “It’s all our fault.”

“Your fault?” asked Nigh.

Mr. Ackerman laughed a sad laugh.  “You know who built this crazy machine, who’s operating it?” he asked.

Nigh shook his head.

“Grown-ups,” Mr. Ackerman said, bowing deeply.  “We build the damn thing every day.  Problem is, most of us don’t even know it.  Even though we’re driving, each and every last one of us, we think we’re just passengers like you, or worse – victims.  We’re terrible drivers, the whole lot of us.  But sometimes, Nigh, sometimes a little boy like you grows up and finds that despite everything, he can still see clearly.  He finds that he can look straight ahead and steer the whole blessed thing.  And when a boy can do that, he can be…”

“A cloud-maker?” asked Nigh.

“Any damn thing he pleases,” finished Mr. Ackerman.

Nigh thought about how before meeting Mr. Ackerman, he had been afraid of growing up.  He enjoyed how he spent his days and was yet to find a grown-up who did.  Watching the grown-ups travel to and from work every day, he had witnessed looks only of boredom and stress upon their faces.  Nigh was always amazed by how well Mr. Ackerman was able to mimic this look of discontentment, how well he was able to mask his heroic purpose and disappear daily into the ceaseless flow of adults who had made the whole idea of growing up look so unappealing to Nigh in the first place.

Mr. Ackerman was indeed so good at appearing tired and unhappy that sometimes, for fleeing moments, even Nigh himself was fooled.

And then, early one vacation morning, Nigh awoke to find something horribly wrong.  Mr. Ackerman’s hat and briefcase were strewn upon his front lawn, and the door to his house left hanging open.  Through the open door, Nigh could see that Mr. Ackerman’s wooden coatrack had also been capsized and was laying on its side.

Nigh cautiously approached the house and called out to Mr. Ackerman.

“Mr. Ackerman!” called Nigh.

There was no answer.

“Mr. Ackerman!” he called yet again, poking his head through the front door.  And still there was no answer.  The house was completely silent.

Nigh, becoming more and more concerned, decided to ask his grandmother if she had heard Mr. Ackerman leaving for work that morning.  Unfortunately, she had been busy splicing tape and hadn’t noticed anything at all.

Nigh thought for a moment of asking his grandmother’s help, but was afraid of compromising Mr. Ackerman’s important need for secrecy.  He would have to try and find Mr. Ackerman by himself for now.

Nigh returned to Mr. Ackerman’s front yard and, gathering the hat and briefcase, cautiously entered the house.  Closing the door behind him, Nigh placed the hat and briefcase upon Mr. Ackerman’s kitchen table and began searching about for any clues as towards Mr. Ackerman’s whereabouts.  Finding nothing out of the ordinary, with the exception of the capsized coatrack and raincoat, he returned once again to the briefcase.

Hesitating for a moment, Nigh decided that there was no other choice.  The briefcase must be opened.  After all, he thought, Mr. Ackerman might be in trouble!

Nigh gently released the latches [latches clicking] and was quite surprised by what he found.

Inside the case, a second slightly smaller case was housed, this one ice cold and made out of some sort of aluminum or other light metal.  Upon this metal was etched the phrase “FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY”.

Underneath this statement was etched a good deal more information.  The etching was so small, however, that Nigh had to press his face up against the ice-cold case and strain his eyes in order to read it.

“WARNING”, it said, “FOR THE GROUND TRANSPORTATION AND CONTAINMENT OF NIMBUS, STRATUS, CIRRUS, AND CUMULUS CLOUDS ONLY.  NOT TO BE OPENED IN AN UNREFRIGERATED INDOOR ENVIRONMENT”.

As Nigh was straining to read the last part of this statement, his nose accidentally made contact with the small red button that he had not previously noticed.

[Shaking, gears turning]

Suddenly, Nigh’s ears were filled with the sound of gears turning, and a mechanical whirring filled the air.

[Bubbly noises]

The case sprung open and out of it sprung a tiny and perfectly formed nimbus cloud.  It was the most amazing thing Nigh had ever seen!

The little cloud drifted upwards, drifting higher and higher, until at last, it came to a rest against the cool tiles of the kitchen ceiling.

Nigh pulled out his chair and climbed upon the kitchen table in order to take a better look.  From his new vantage point, however, it seemed as though the little cloud had not come to a rest at all, but was trying to pass through the tile ceiling in order to reach the sky above.  Nigh noticed also that the cloud seemed just a little bit smaller than it had been only moments ago.  It was almost as if the cloud’s inability to reach its proper altitude was causing it to somehow shrink.

Then the words etched on the aluminum cloud case suddenly came back to him.

“NOT TO BE OPENED IN AN UNREFRIGERATED INDOOR ENVIRONMENT”.

“What will Mr. Ackerman think when he finds out I destroyed his cloud?”

Nigh was reminded of the time a bird had found its way into his grandmother’s house and the horrible panic he had felt as the bird flapped about, crashing into closed windows.

[Banging noises]

He had to do something, and quickly!

But the cloud was much too high and well beyond reach.  How would he ever get the cloud back down and into its cloud case?

Then Nigh thought of Mr. Ackerman’s old-fashioned refrigerator.  Perhaps this could provide the sort of refrigerated environment the cloud needed.

Filling his lungs with as much air as he could muster, [sound of someone blowing air, bubbles popping] Nigh began to blow the cloud in the direction of Mr. Ackerman’s ice box.

It’s working, thought Nigh, it’s working!

Nigh blew and blew until the cloud was floating just a few feet above the refrigerator door.  Nigh was hoping that the cloud would be drawn into the coolness of the ice box, as it would the coolness of high altitudes.  However, upon opening Mr. Ackerman’s refrigerator door, he found no room whatsoever for the little cloud.  It seems the refrigerator was already full, not with a single grocery, mind you, but from top to bottom with clouds, clouds of every imaginable shape and size.

Stratus clouds, and cirrus clouds, so many clouds, in fact, that Nigh had to immediately slam the refrigerator door shut in order to keep them from pouring out.

Just then, Nigh felt the most amazing, cool sensation on the top of his head.  The chilly little cloud had begun to lose altitude and was now hovering only centimeters away from his face.

Nigh grabbed the cloud case off the kitchen table and held it open beneath the sinking cloud.  He closed the aluminum case around it and placed it directly back inside of Mr. Ackerman’s briefcase, closing all the latches.  [Latches closing]

This is getting me nowhere, thought Nigh, who with a great sigh of relief, decided to resume his search for Mr. Ackerman outside.

[PBC music]

Augustus: You were listening to part two of the 2nd Imaginary Symphony.  The Perpetual Broadcasting Corporation will be going off the air in observance of the Platypus Night.  This is August Plumb, and the Perpetual Broadcasting Corporation.  Goodnight.

[Ending music]

[arcann]

L*vi ackerm*n is the ugliest anime fuckface i've ever seen

[likeahbraus]

I Reached 700!!!

I have to say I never thought this was going to happen! I never expected to reach past 40 honestly!  There are a few people who deserve to be thanked! Under the cut, it's going to be long!

Okay, first off I have to shout out to @jean-kirschtein-rants without you and our banter I would have never gained traction! I know we started actually talking during a messy situation in my life and I am still thankful. I know I don’t message you as much anymore and that is completely my fault... I am so lazy and always feel like I am a bother because you are too cool for me! You are one of my favorite blogs and I will go down saying that! I love you, and I love Jean. Thank you so much for being so awesome! Thank you for all the silly banter and the wonderful threads! Without you, Likeahbraus wouldn’t exist! Thank you for being you, stay excellent!  

Next up @ackerme let's be honest without you Likeahbraus would have been deleted in April! I literally talk to you every single day and I love it! I mean the conversations typically end in up saying weird words or calling each other names. I love that I can be completely myself when I talk to you and send you random shots of our favorite SNK boys and girls. I still want to go to a concert with you because it sounds like fun. I wish you were more active but your life is busy so no harm.  I am still waiting for my care package! But you are so wonderful I love you waifu, stay amazing!

Next in line: shout out to @timid-warrior I’ve known you the shortest and our first interaction I accused Bertholdt of licking Reiner no regret! I talk to you almost daily and I always laugh my ass off or get emotional.  You are sick and twisted but wonderful I literally drop everything to answer you. I love taking headcanons with you no matter how it ends up.  I love talking to you in general, I love swapping theories with you.  You are so great I love you and I am glad we started talking! Even though sometimes I feel like I am bothering you. Stay incredible Mom-Dad-Uncle! 

Next up! @annieleonhardy I love you and I hate that you don’t get on more! When you do you always make me laugh though! As per usual I will probably see you on one of your days off (because I know you in real life)

@definitely-not-normal and @levis-buttcheeks my children, but not really. I love you guys even if I want to smack you.  I am glad you two liked my blog so much I am stoked that you adopted me as your Dadmom.  Uhm... Stay wonderful kiddos!

@mommakirschtein I know we haven’t got into really deep meaning conversations I am so stoked you messaged me! You seemed too cool for me, you still do tbh! I love Momma K so much and have completely reworked how I thought about her. Thank you for the lovely fanfic you sent me even if we are going to hell.  Stay excellent!

AND: Thank any and every one of my followers, and all the people I talk to but forgot to tag or don’t feel like we talk enough! (No offense guys) I hope I can keep you entertained I love each and every one of you! 

[blazefire-engine]

Rivamika Office!AU

Alright fam, I made this on January 16, 2016. I made a few tweaks since I am now in the workforce and at the time I made this fic, I wasn’t LOL 

It’s never seen the light of day, but here it is. Enjoy my fellow Ackermates.

- - -

Slurp… Ah...

Mikasa gave a delicious sigh after slurping from a steamy cup of noodles.  Her consumption resulted in the artificial, sodium-packed broth to splash on the screen of her laptop.  However, at the current time stating to be half-past noon, her dirtied screen is the least of her concerns and a grumbling stomach was her number one priority.  This was the consequence of skipping breakfast to catch the bustling 7:00 a.m. train. 

As for missing the "most important meal of the day,” her wake-up time had been pushed fifteen minutes from the usual. Another consequence for submitting a coding assignment for her graduate course in the God-awful hour of 2:00 a.m.

Thus, these chain of events culminated into a terrible Monday morning.  It seemed that the whole world was against her when the day was accompanied with dreary skies, pouring rain, and, as if to pour salt on her metaphorical wound, without an umbrella.  

She strode in the building with her short hair damp and whiplashed as tendrils stuck to her face.  The Burberry trench coat did little to shield her from the rain but performed well as a barricade from the chilly wind.  

The beige coat, that now laid on a stool next to the heater and the one she had been staring at for the past few minutes, was the trigger that made her recall the horrendous morning.

Slurping another portion of noodles, the broth now splashed on the surface of her red-rimmed glasses.

“Tch, how unsanitary."

Mikasa looked up through her splattered glasses to see an intruder in her office space.  The source of the abhorred voice was a man in a crisp navy suit with a sleek laptop clutched to his hip.  His face clearly disturbed and a grimace plastered on his lips as he eyed the styrofoam cup in distaste.  

His comment was enough to stir annoyance.

Snatching off her glasses, she plucked a facial tissue from the desk drawer.  “Don’t you have the decency to knock?” She glared at the man and resumed the task of cleaning her lens.  

The man raised an eyebrow.  He paused, giving a subtle hum as if he needed to think of what to respond. “Particularly, I don’t have to.  I can roam about any room I wish.”  He finished his response with a smirk and walked to sit on the chair prior to her desk.  

Mikasa felt her body temperature rise upon each step he took and his arrogant tone grated on her nerves.  How dare he… If she held on any tighter, the wooden chopsticks in her hand would inevitably snap into two.  

“You must be quite the asshole then.”

“Excuse me?”  He replied, feigning innocence.  

“Butting into someone’s personal space without permission is quite the asshole move.”  She snapped back, explaining to him the reason for her anger.  

“Personal?  You’re here to work.  There’s nothing personal here."

Although his words did hold true, there is always that time of day that separates work from personal life.  

“It is personal if you intrude during my lunch break.”  Glancing at her cup, she finished the last of her noodles and patted her lips with a tissue while he simply sat and waited for her to finish.  

Well, he must have gone here for a reason.  Eyeing the laptop in his hand, she released a reluctant sigh. “So, what can I do for you?” Despite their rough start, Mikasa is a woman who never refused someone that needed help.  

The man’s expression perked up, seemingly pleased with her cooperation.  “I’ve heard you’re one of the best in the IT department and I was wondering if you can upgrade my software program.”  He waved the expensive-looking laptop and placed it on the stack of papers on her desk.  

“Are you unaware of how things work around here?” Mikasa frowned. “If you have any IT issues, you’d need to submit a service desk ticket.” She grabbed one of her stack of business cards, one that contained an e-mail and call number for the service desk, and slid it to him. “That way we can track your issue and file an internal report.”

He shook his head, glancing at his wrist. “I don’t have time to waste. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Mikasa raised an eyebrow in disbelief.  “And you think I’ll do this for you right now?” She asked almost incredulously.  

He gave an uncharacteristic snort. “I would be a fool to believe you could, but think of this as helping a colleague."

She stared at the laptop, at a loss of what to do. The sheer audacity of this man to barge in and rudely ask for her to fix something without even a shred of consideration for her time. 

“How much do you have in mind?” The man asked in nonchalance.

Mikasa narrowed her eyes at his offer.  Just what kind of person did he think she was?  “I won’t ask for money.” She said firmly.  

She could have sworn she saw a smidgen of a smirk on his face. "So is that a yes?"

Before she can conjure up a proper response, she nodded once.  “You owe me a favor instead."

“A favor?” He repeated, now his turn to be surprised.  From the sound of it, the man smiled, very interested in her offer.  “Very well, what favor?"

The ears hidden underneath her hair were surely pink. Mikasa cleared her throat, rather embarrassed and she found the lint on his pants suddenly interesting.  “I don’t know… Rain check?"

“Well then, I accept, Ms. Ackerman.”  The man placed his laptop on her desk and checked his wrist for the time once more.  “Lunch break is over and I have a meeting. It was quite fascinating meeting with you, Ms. Ackerman.  I hope we can engage in another conversation soon.”  The man turned around, threw her a rather mysterious smirk over his shoulder, and left her office.  

She stared at her doorway, wondering who the hell was that guy.  She’d never seen him in the IT department before, so perhaps he was from another department.  

But as he left, she realized she never got his name or when she would give it back.   

- - -

This’ll probably have a part 2, although I don’t know when or how that’ll go LOL. But thank you so much for those who liked my previous post; it gave me the courage to once again post rm fics. 

Also, Mikasa with red-rimmed eyeglasses was from an official art years ago if I remember correctly. 

[arminsolar]

IN THE WARMTH OF YOUR ARMS, pedido pessoal (@ackermance). ⚠️ caso se inspire, por favor me credite.

[shingekinokilljin]

Casting reveals for The Live Impact Attack on Titan Stage Play!

  Endo Yuya as Levi Ackerman

Hiroki Miura as Eren Yeager

Minami Tsukui as Mikasa Ackerman

Shogo Sakamoto as Armin Arlert

Honda Reo will be playing Jean Kirschtein

Connie Springer = Hirono Ryota.

Imada Mio = Sasha Braus

Nagae Hidekazu = Commander Pixis.

Erwin Smith = Izumi Shuhei

More previews are coming soon! (Also it was very tragic to hear of Kazutaka Yoshino’s fall and passing. My thoughts are with his loved ones).

[shingekiofpositivity-tribute]

Ackerme

@ackerme plays an outstanding Mikasa! She is amazing at playing both Mikasas happier side and her more tragic side! She is one of the best Mikasas I know, and her posts and RP threads will have you hooked! I recommend her blog to anyone who's looking for a good Mikasa whether it's as an RP partner or just to have fun at their blog!

[kuriyamanyah]

In the month of December in 1665 | fanfic por ackermance

Categoria: Jujutsu Kaisen

Spirit Fanfics | Leia aqui

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