#sans regrets

[croutoncat]

i live my life in comic sans ...

[the-bark-is-worse]

eyyyyyy here’s some Child Marriage AU Rivetra || x

[the-bark-is-worse]

{for jealousy meme~} With his arms folded behind his head, Levi lifted a brow when Petra's cat jumped up onto his chest, rubbing her face against his chin, marking him. He didn't think much of it, and with a side eye at the pregnant woman on the opposite couch, let out a small, barely audible chuckle. "Guess she likes me better." {babyverse}

Book in her hands, Petra shifted in her seat on the couch for the umpteenth time since she sat down, still attempting to find a comfortable position. She turned the page of her book, starting onto a new chapter with a slight frown on her lips as she noticed the tortoiseshell cat out of the corner of her eye, bypassing her and jumping right up onto Levi’s chest. 

His words, of course, did nothing to help; and while he may have been kidding, the joke was completely lost to the young mother to be. 

Petra huffed annoyed through her nose, shifting again on the couch, this time attempting to tuck her legs up under herself. 

“Oh yeah, rub it in, why don’tcha? Nothing like the sting of salt on an open wound, huh?”

[the-bark-is-worse]

Coming Home || Babyverse

She had been preparing herself for this moment since she boarded the plane.

She had been preparing herself, and yet...she knew she could never be prepared for this moment.

The building was just the same as it was, there was no surprise that nothing had been done to change the decrepit building in any way.

The same scent hit her in the face as she entered, a mix of mustiness from a lack of air flow, cigarettes, and whatever pets lived in the building.

Her heart grew heavier and heavier with each step forward she took, each stair she climbed.

It wasn't long before she was face to face with the wooden door of the very unit she once lived in.

It was still the same. Now, when she left, and when she first set her eyes on it, determined to face the elusive man whose child she had carried at the time.

So much had happened since then.

So much had happened, and yet even as she stood there, key to the unit burning in her hand, she was far to nervous to use it.

Six months.

It had been six months since she last used the key. Six months since she turned the key to lock the door behind her. Six months since she left to tend to her father's funeral. Six months since she last saw Levi. Six months since she received the call after her father's funeral.

Six months since their baby died.

Their baby...

She could hardly refer to the baby as hers, not after how much time has passed.

After all, what mother refuses to come home for her own baby's funeral, what mother leaves the father of her child to handle the baby's death all on his own?

So why had she come back? Knowing all this, all the pain she caused as she tried to avoid her own, why was she coming back? She could have very well stayed at home, stayed with her friend Auruo and never spoke to Levi again, never seen him again, never faced the reality of what had happened.

Because of love.

Because she realized after 6 months, after 6 months of practically living in a vegetative state, watching time pass as though it meant nothing, that she really, truly did love him, and she could let this go no longer.

She swallowed, slowing closing her hand with the key into a fist, and knocking on the door, bracing herself for whatever may come out of the surly man's mouth.

@sans-regrets

[the-bark-is-worse]

Omg... can I just say that the baby verse is soooo soo good and incredibly interesting to read? Like, wow. You guys are giving me the major feels right there. I feel kinda weird for being so nosey and spying on you but I just love the idea??? And your writing is so well and lucid, I can literally imagine it all so clearly *-* <3

Ahhh, what a wonderful message to wake up to!

PLEASE, do not feel weird or nosy or like you’re spying at all! Frenchie and I have put so much thought into this AU that we WANT people to follow along with it as we write it out. 

Just writing babyverse is like taking a punch to the gut, to be honest, because while we’ve only written two other threads in this verse, we’ve already thought it out and discussed and while it was (amazingly) painful to plot, it’s just as much, if not more, to actually put it into words. So I’m really, super glad you think the writing is fine because I’m serious when I say we really want others to read and feel as much as we do!

But thank you again, and please continue to read! We may jump back and forth in time with future threads, but they will all be in order on my Verses page!

[music-is-my-mirror]

It’s for one last day, I wake up at your side

Let me take your hand, to tell you I have no regrets

[the-bark-is-worse]

A Typical Night || Stripperverse

It was no surprise to her she’d be pulled from the stage that night.

It was Wednesday night, of course. A typical night as usual. A night she worked. 

And one of the nights he came in to see her. 

It was odd, perhaps, to think of it as such; he was bored, a mafia man with too much money to burn…but only with her. 

He did not want a ‘Date with Destiny’ or a ‘Taste of Candi;’ it was only ever Scarlett he watched, Scarlett he’d ask for, Scarlett he’d take into the Champagne Room. 

She could remember the first night he came in, silently watching her routine on the pole with his striking, steely blues, the occasional puff of smoke escaping his lips from each drag of his cigarette he took. 

He returned the following week, then twice the week after; the same expression on his face, the same brand of cigarette between his fingers, ordering the same drink. It wasn’t until a few visits later that he’d buy a lap dance or two, pay for a table and invite her to it. It had gone on for a while, at least a few months, before he’d start to book her privately, desiring her company behind closed doors and away from the wolfish eyes of the other customers.

He became known as her patron throughout the club, her name the only to fall from his lips each night he visited. Eventually it became routine, the young woman knowing it was time to finish whatever she was doing the moment she caught sight of his raven locks. She’d leave the floor, take a few moments to freshen herself up, and meet him in the room.

So when he made his visit that particular Wednesday night, she did just that of course, happy to leave the stage in place of better company.

She entered the room where he waited, always the same one, and closed the door behind her with a minxy smile on her face.

“Well well, long time, no see,” she said to the man on the sofa. A joke, of course, as he had been there the night before.

@sans-regrets

[the-bark-is-worse]

Branded

“Papa, I think this one is ready!” Petra had called out to the large man in the back of the shop, currently shaping the saddle tree he had been working on. He paused in his work to look up at his daughter, and after setting his scrapper down on his work table, crossed the room to join and observe her work. 

He let out a deep hum, a large hand coming up to his chin as a finger tapped against it. He stepped around the table, observing the saddle cloth she had claimed to be finished and ready to be set aside for its customer to pick up. 

Finally, with a sniff of his nose, he nodded and spoke, “It’s even more lovely than the last.”

“Oh, Papa, you say that every time!” Her groan and complaint were light and playful of course, though in all honesty she was sure he’d say that even if she presented him with one she had only put half of the effort into. 

Her papa, one Mike Zacharius, was a saddler by trade, creating horse saddles for anyone who came to him, from farmers just outside the city, to noblemen in need of a fitting for their newest horse. And while Mike put his heart into making them, Petra had taken to making the saddle cloths, something her mother had done nearly twenty years ago.

A sheepish grin came to the man’s face; this too, he had done each time she called him out on his repeated compliment. 

“And I mean it every time I say it, of course.” 

A light sigh escaped Petra, shaking her head as she carefully folded the cloth and set it aside, clearing the space for her to work on a new one. But before she could begin, the sound of their shop door opening caught her attention, Petra turning to see an unfamiliar man step inside. 

@sans-regrets