sans-regrets

[sans-regrets]

👀

[sans-regrets]

Haven’t logged into Levi in foreverrrrrr but hey hey hey I’m with my Petra for the weekend~ 

I know it’s not Munday but @the-bark-is-worse and I are finally together and we are ready to paaarrrtayyyyyy. We got a little balloon happy and we have no ragrats.

[sans-regrets]

Art by んで

※ Posted with written permission ※ Do not repost or remove the source

[sans-regrets]

Art by んで

※ Posted with written permission ※ Do not repost or remove the source

[sans-regrets]

“Shit I Overheard at my Law Firm” Sentence Starters

“Just read this fucker and take it to court.”

“Tone down your depositions, A-hole.” 

“He may be a buffoon and a fool, but by God he was innocent.”

*grumble grumble* “Sexist bastards.” 

“I don’t want to come into work without teeth!”

“That asshole better stop fucking with my client or else I’m gonna…”

“There are only two pears left. I’m naming them Adam and Eve.”

“Organic seaweed? What the hell is organic seaweed?”

“You asking me fishing?�� fuck YES I’m there!”

“When the weather gets hot, I just step out on my back porch and pour water over my head for an hour or two. Works every time.”

“He is an artist. Use of Comic Sans in legal documents is his creative outlet.”

“Throw some Wingdings on that shit.”

“What does a person have to do to get a fucking cob salad around here?” 

“I’m trying to decide if I should go insane and body-pump or go home and sleep.”

“You can’t just ring a bell, un-ring it, and then ring it again.”

���We lost. We lost big time. But it’s okay. I’m good. It’s cool. I’ve got whiskey. I’m good.”

*applying lipstick to go to the gym* “What kind of a crazy woman wears lipstick to the gym??”

“Are you going to shut up and FISH today?” 

“Do you know of any pet friendly cafes? I’m meeting an attorney tomorrow and he’ll have his non-service hunting dog along. Don’t ask why.”

“Publicly, I agree. Personally, I think it’s chickenshit.”

“Keto diet? Is that like for chemo? Ohmygod do you have cancer?!??”

“I don’t have a circle on mine. Where’s my circle?”

“Don’t judge my printouts. Paper is a renewable resource.”

“The stapler has been compromised.” 

“You know that one case? The one with the person from the company whose doing some crazy stuff?”

“I wasn’t fishing. I was lawyer-ing. Much less exciting.”

“For a priest, he’s kind of an asshole.”

“Brownies and bourbon? Sounds like my kinda party!”

“I got a bottle of whiskey calling my name so I may not be back here tomorrow morning or ever.”

[sans-regrets]

👌👌👌👌

❤

OH YOU NASTY BOY.

Affectionate; Holding hands | Cheek kisses | Hugs from behind | Cuddling | Hand kiss | PDA | Spooning | Shared baths | Whispers | Affectionate texts | Caressing | Stroke hair | Fist Fights | No displays of affection

Sex; Shower sex | Wall sex | Neck bites | Oral | Morning sex | Drunk sex | Public sex | Backseat of car | BDSM | No sex

Dates;Picnic | Cinema | Restaurant | Sports game | Hike | Coffee | Museum | Club | Bar | Beach | No dates

Would my character…

Marry them? Yes | No {there are laws against that}Have sex on the first date? Yes | NoConfess their attraction first? Yes | No Have children/adopt? Yes | No Die for your character? Yes | No Cheat on your character? Yes | No Lie to them? Yes | No Cuddle after sex? Yes | No

[sans-regrets]

Source.

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

“Yes, now,” she responded, adjusting the skirt of her dress before stepping through the threshold of the door, “otherwise they will be closed by the time we are finished for the day.” Besides, work was light that afternoon, surely her papa could manage by himself while she and Levi took trip to the tea shop.

“We won’t be long, and I cannot start my next saddle until papa finishes his part anyway.”

She did not wait for him to catch up, her feet almost instinctively taking her to the shop she was all too familiar with. Tea had always been a staple in their home, the young woman having known the way as far back as when Mike used to carry her rather than allow her to toddle the busy, bustling streets.

“What kind of tea was it you wanted?” she asked, carefully avoiding a puddle in the middle of the road so as to not wet the bottom of her dress.

She was faster than he expected, but he was not slow, years living in the underground had taught him the importance of speed.

He did not walk next to her, not ever daring to assume her kindness was an invitation to see himself as equal with her, though he did not mind keeping a pace and a half behind her. It was easier  to sweep the area that surrounded her. Protecting her from behind, with a clear view of any danger before or to the sides of her.

“Black tea,” he quipped, “the regular kind.”

He imagined there were probably a wide variety of black teas in a part of the city like this, but it had been so long since he’d seen his mother, he didn’t actually know what she bought. He came from a small farming village. No one was rich there; certainly everything they had was just. . .regular.

The Working Man

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

She kept her position in bed, the gentle light illuminating the room enough for her to see him. A mix of a huff and sigh sounded loudly through her nose, disappointed in what he said. “And he didn’t even say goodbye?” Her bottom lip pushed out into a slight pout, looking similar to that of a sleepy toddler being told it was time for a bath. “How mean.”

She felt the slight dip in the large bed, half lidded eyes slowly flickering from him to the glass of water he held out to her. She was comfortable in her position, yet was just coming to realize just how dry her throat and mouth were. Reluctantly, she sat up, taking the glass of water and slowly drinking from it. She lowered the glass once her thirst was quenched enough for her to speak again. Though he had put his foot down about no parties, Petra did not find herself to be bothered by his new rule, instead focusing on something else entirely. 

“You mean that when you say ‘we,’ right? You’re not going to leave me alone and go out are you?”

Levi grunted in affirmation, passing her the plate.

“Someone’s got to make sure you don’t die,” he told her, “Erwin pushes you too much.”

He knew he was one to talk. He hardly stopped either, drowning his problems in more. More parties, more drugs, more sex. It wasn’t even an addiction anymore. It wasn’t fucking fun, but he’d learned that being fully immersed in this life was the only way to escape the reality of it.

Heh. Now that was fucked.

“It’s good that you’re resting,” he said, “you haven’t been feeling well.”

Truthfully Levi didn’t know how much rest she needed. He could have, should have looked it up, asked Erwin, called the clinic or any old doctor’s office for that matter.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t have the stomach to. Looking into how much or how little care she needed would make it real again and he was running out of things to break.

The Unseen Wounds

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

“Cats have feelings too, Levi, and she clearly feels nothing for me! I’m blacklisted in her eyes!”

While she might have enjoyed the little show Levi was helping (forcing) Pita to put on, she found herself too focused on one particular statement that came from his mouth.

“Really?! You’re going to throw the litter box in my face?! You know I’d clean it if I could!” she snapped back, tears pricking at the corners of her despite the scowl on her features.

Of course he knew. And whatever rational part of her currently quashed by her emotions knew he meant no harm what he said.

But she had already deemed it a battle, and to her, they were fighting words, a direct attack against her.

Alright. That was enough.

With a soft sigh, he tossed the cat onto the other side of the couch and sat up, swiping a blanket from a trendy vintage basket Petra had picked up from a thrift store a few weeks back.

Flicking it open, he dropped it over her head with little expression.

“Take a nap,” he commanded, “dinner will be ready when you’re through with this.”

Insult to Injury

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

She pulled herself closer to him, burying her face into the fabric of his clothing and relaxing against him. His familiar scent brought her ease, just as it did those rainy nights that brought about the plague of her haunting nightmares.

“Of course not, blood is the least of my worries,” she stated to him, her hand finding his still resting on his stomach and pushing her fingers between his. Blood certainly may have been related, but of the concerns that raced through her young mind, it was furthest from the finish line.

“A nightshirt means you will have to leave though,” she began, her face still pressed into him, “and I’m quite content as I am now, if I may be honest.”

Levi allowed her to lace her fingers with his, even going so far as to give her hand a little reassuring squeeze, to show he didn’t mind the affection. Welcomed it, even.

He frowned down at the top of her head as she snuggled closer, pretending to be annoyed by the way she was not allowing him to leave, forcing him into a comfort of his own.

“Hang the nightshirt,” he growled, his grip on her hand tightening as he scooted down to a position better suited for sleeping, “these clothes are just fine.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d slept in her presence fully dressed in his evening wear. In fact, in the summer and early autumn, it was not at all unusual for her to fly to his chambers, fueled by her fear of the rolling thunder that boomed overhead the castle. He did not make her wait for him to ready himself for bed on those nights. He he held her, he quieted her, and most often, fell asleep with her.

With a soft kiss to the top of her head, the prince allowed his eyes to close, relaxing in their closeness as he muttered into her copper hair.

“You are a spoiled little bird.”

The First Bleed

[sans-regrets]

If I cry in front of you, believe me, I reached my limit.

(via foreignaccent)

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

Levi certainly had a way with words.

What might have elicited a frown or a nose wrinkled in distaste from any lady of noble breed cause grins, chuckles, or even witty retort from the young princess.

But in his bluntness there was truth, truth that Petra was thankful her husband was able to see, truth that caused a curve of her lips in appreciation rather than amusement.

He validated her feelings, her fears, her worries that simply caused laughs or clicks of the tongue from others. After all, she was not married to him for her convenience, for what she wanted out of life, but out of continuing a noble line, and keeping the throne within the Ackerman family.

She gave him a nod, a light hum sounding from the back of her throat in agreement as she fell into silence once again.

It was ironic, however, that despite their current conversation, the prince still wound up in her bed, beside her. Of course, it would come as a disappointment to the chambermaids that would check the sheets the following morning, as his place beside her at this moment was strictly platonic. But despite the irony of the situation, they were married, and though they would not lay together, she more than welcomed him lying beside her.

More than welcomed.

Petra closed the gap between them as she inched over towards him. Turning on her side, she took hold of his arm, snaking herself between it and the rest of his body as she snuggled up against him.

“Will you stay tonight?” She asked him. Though the astrologists had not predicted foul weather for that evening, Petra still was hopeful that he might choose to stay with her, as she did not wish to see him leave just yet.

The corner of Levi’s mouth turned up slightly when she wiggled her way against him, the way a small kitten might demand attention. He allowed it, giving her head a few affectionate pats.

“Scared of blood, Chicken?”

Truthfully he didn’t want to leave. Though he’d learned all about a woman’s ‘window’ of fertility, and knew that the bleed was not a part of it, it would very likely look bad on Petra for him not to share her chamber tonight and he wouldn’t have her suffer gossip in the morning.

“I’ll need a nightshirt,” he muttered, relaxing his arm to fall around her waist, tightening his hold, contradicting the comment noting he’d have to leave for at least a short time.

Though he did not favor nightclothes, he found exposing himself to Petra even more distasteful, so on nights they shared a bed, he donned the blasted garment.

The First Bleed

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

Her eyes scanned the page open before her, but she was not paying attention to the words as she passed them. It was such a silly thing to be upset about, and yet not one shred of rationality within her brain piped up to even say so. After all, Levi should have clearly known about the cat completely snubbing her earlier…despite having been in the shower. 

“Oh right, yeah, just a damn cat that likes you and hates me!” She snapped the book closed, shifting to face him and unable to stop the trembling of her lower lip and chin as she caught sight of the feline purring contently and kneading her paws into Levi’s chest. 

“She was so friendly at the shelter and I really thought she and I hit it off. I make sure her food bowl is filled, water is clean, and she has her toys. I even try to play with her and she just…she just blatantly ignores me!”

As soon as the book closed, Levi understood what was happening. Understanding was what happening, and knowing how to deal with it, however, were two very very different things.

“She’s a cat, Petra,” he pointed out, gently taking hold of Pita’s front two paws and lifting her up to a stand, not terribly appreciative of the small puncture holes in his tee shirt from her claws.

“I’m the one that cleans the box,” he mused, using his hold on the feline to force her into a stiff dance, ignoring her mewls of protest, hoping to ease Petra’s worries.

“Maybe she’s into shit; I don’t know.”

Insult to Injury

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

No.

Short, simple, and to the point; to have expected anything but would have been foolish, Petra knowing the Prince well enough to never hedge around any subject at hand.

But while this short, direct answer managed to bring some relief to the young teen, Petra could not claim to be completely free from the worry that hung about her. They were close friends; she knew no one to know her better than the older teen, and he certainly did not hold back from opening up to her. But they were married; married and honestly had no reason (according to society and everyone within it,) not to have children now that it was possible. And perhaps it was this that worried the young princess, that perhaps Levi would not want children now nor in the future, that perhaps Levi just did not want children with her at all.

But despite the minor nag within the back of her mind, she relaxed, tossing aside formalities and proper posture and sitting back up against the tufted headboard, tearing her gaze from his hard stare.

“Well…I suppose that might be disappointing to some,” she said, tracing the ornate pattern of the bedspread with a finger, “but I can not say I am quite ready for children anyway…not now at least.” She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth a moment, glancing to him a moment before returning her gaze to the embroidered designs.

“Carrying a child, giving birth, being a mother…a parent…the idea of it all is still a bit…frightening to me…”

If there was one reason Levi was glad to have been matched with her against both of their wills, it was that she thought for herself. She was not, and likely would never, throw herself at him because it was expected of her. She was afraid of the future and her part in it and, unafraid to voice it, Levi felt a bit of pride and appreciation for that.

She was genuine.

“You should be frightened,” he bit off, relaxing himself and sinking into the mattress before he swung his feet up and laid against the pillows beside her, casual in his closeness, but not so untoward that they touched just yet.

With his hands clasped together and resting on his stomach, he stared up at the canopy above her bed.

“How are you supposed to raise a child when you’re a child yourself?”

He didn’t expect her to answer, and he liked to think that although his tone was unfriendly, she did not think him condescending. All he meant was that it was better to wait.

“Tradition is shit,” he settled on, “we’ll wait until you’re ready.”

The First Bleed

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

She gave him a single nod of her head, a sort of assurance that she was healthy despite her current condition.

Petra made no other movements, sitting in the same position the maids had left her in to wait should her husband choose to visit her that evening. But he too seemed to be stuck in his own position, her gaze flickering up to him, the young prince hesitant in exactly what he wanted to do.

“I suppose that makes two of us,” she replied to his concern, little explanation offered to the young princess on the subject as well. She was bathed, she was dressed, and she was told to wait, nothing much more.

She kept quite as he spoke, looking him over and letting his words sink in. Yes, she could have children now, his children. She swallowed, the thought of pregnancy and childbirth a bit frightening to her. Was she even ready for such, to create and nurture and bear a child of her own?

Perhaps to herself, she was not. And yet, to her maids, to the royal court, to society, to the kingdom, and if he so desired, the prince, she had no choice but to be.

She allowed a gentle sigh to escape her lips, her hands folding atop her lap as she finally figured just what she wanted to say to him…or rather, ask.

“Do you want to have children now?”

Levi’s mouth turned up as she expressed she was just as uninformed as he was. It set him at ease, even in the slightest bit, knowing that he needn’t walk on eggshells about it all.

She asked him a simple question. Did he want children now?

It wasn’t a matter of wanting or not wanting them, not to him. He did like children, or at least he liked his cousin’s two, and was happy there was a third on the way. He also knew that if that bumbling oaf Dawk could manage fatherhood at fifteen, Levi himself was certainly up for the task at seventeen.

But Levi and Petra were not like his cousin and the woman that he called wife. They were passionately in love and were only a month or so apart in age, so exploring each other’s bodies had not been something they had waited for, but craved.

Levi and Petra were friends. The very best of, or at least that was how Levi saw it and he absolutely would not taint this closeness with something so carnal as sex until she was absolutely certain she was ready to partake.

The prince, however, was not so eloquent as to explain all of this, so with a hard stare at the young woman in the bed, he answered her question.

“No.”

The First Bleed

[sans-regrets]

the-bark-is-worse:

She was sure she had never seen such excitement in the faces of her maidservants. 

Well, no, perhaps she had seen a hint of similar excitement masked by formalities when the maids were given the evening off from their duties.

But it was hard not to notice the excited chatter amongst the women as they found themselves a bit distracted from their duties, aiding the young princess with her newfound dilemma. 

She had gone to her morning meal a child, and ushered quickly by one of the servants to her bedchamber, claiming her now to be a woman.

News quickly spread across the palace, and by the time she was brought to the music room for her daily lesson, the royal court had entered into a celebration of sorts. To them, Petra entering womanhood meant two very important things: marriage consummation and childbearing. 

‘What joy you will bring to the prince, for surely he will come to love you once you bear his son.’

The words of her handmaiden echoed in her mind as she toyed with the new nightdress she wore, seemingly saved for this milestone in her life; was solidifying their marriage and bearing a child truly the key to the prince’s affections? She was not sure, and though they had been married for nearly three years, she had yet to still fully grasp the concept of marriage, of having a husband, and now, of being a woman. 

Petra was drawn from her thoughts as the door opened, glancing over as she saw her husband appear within her bedchamber. She ceased her fiddling with the cloth of the nightgown, straightening herself as it was unbecoming for a princess, a woman, such as herself, to be slouching. 

“My prince,” she returned his greeting, meeting his gaze only momentarily, before bringing her focus to the intricately sewn patterns on the bed sheets. 

She was tense, unsure of what plans her husband had in mind. They had every reason to become intimate, every reason to finally establish their marriage as a true union. 

But he did not advance further than a foot or so from her bed, keeping to his formalities and asking her how she felt. 

Truthfully, she felt more or less the same, save for the slightest bit of weariness and perhaps a bit bloated. Oh, and of course the discomfort that had come with the rag between her legs and belt holding it into place. But other than that, she felt no difference in her person, in her mind, in her heart, and she couldn’t help but to wonder if maybe she should be feeling any different…

“I’m feeling fine,” she spoke, her voice soft. She bit her lower lip a moment, before parting her lips again to speak. “…a bit tired, if I may be honest, though nothing out of the ordinary as I am told…”

Though the prince was not a perceptive type of boy, particularly in regards to girls, he did notice how tense she was, likely feeling just as awkward as he did, and it brought a bit of comfort to him.

“That’s good,” he mused, “so long as you’re healthy then.”

He looked around the bedchamber, though he didn’t know why. He’d memorized the space. A lack of sexual activity did not keep the couple from their own, innocent intimacy, and it was not uncommon for them to share a bed to do little more than talk and sleep.

Sometimes he kissed her forehead.

Sometimes she kissed his.

“I don’t know anything about this,” Levi admitted, taking a step forward, then a step back, then deciding he was the husband, and the future king, and sat on the edge of the bed, forearms on his knees and leaning forward on them.

“You can have children now,” he informed her, something he was well aware she already knew, and he lowered his voice, testing the next sentence in his throat.

“We can have children.”

The First Bleed