#also the cigarette doesn't line up in any of the photos but i don't have time to fix it 😅

[moonfromearth]

- You smoke now?

- After the night I had.. I've earned it.

Day 1 - The Final Girl

"Usually the one that survives the onslaught, they give the killer a run for their money"

from @windbrook's Slashed Challenge.

[ddejavvu]

omg can you write a smutty and fluffy fic about reader discovering that aaron has tattoos under that suit of his and also could he drive a motorcycle 🤭 like imagine aaron having a helmet for her and teasing her on it and her grabbing his hips

Perhaps you're crossing an invisible line when you begin thumbing through the pages of a photo album that had been tucked away beneath Aaron's coffee table, but you're a nosy drunk, and he'd invited you to sit on his couch. It's his fault, really.

Emily peers disinterestedly over your shoulder, only paying attention because it's more entertaining than listening to Spencer talk Star Trek. You find baby pictures of Aaron, grainy photographs of a moderately chubby baby, and your giggle is heavily laden with booze.

After the fifth nondescript baby portrait Emily turns away, and only a few pages later, he's graduating high school. Something is unsettling about the way that his memories had so quickly switched from infant to adult, but his smile is dazzling under the weight of his cap and gown, so you let the uneasy feeling wash away in exchange for some belated pride.

"You're a snoop," Aaron observes, when he comes back from the bathroom to find you transfixed by his photo album. He smiles, his own demeanor loosened by liquor, "That was my graduation day."

"I know,' You gush, "I'm not that drunk."

He rolls his eyes at you, but a grin is firm in place over his lips.

Then you turn the page, and it's not Aaron anymore.

Oh, fuck, it is Aaron. Aaron with tattoos littering his toned torso, jeans hanging low on his hips, a cigarette in his hand and his legs straddling a motorcycle. He's polishing the body, pinning it between his knees to do so.

You hadn't realized your jaw dropped, but it did.

"Those were my teenage dirtbag years," Aaron recalls, with a snort that's a mixture of fondness and ridicule, "I thought I was some rebellious-" His brain falters, failing to provide him with the proper connection, and he falls short, "-Uh, rebel."

"Woah," Is all you can muster, tracing your fingers over the page wistfully. He laughs, and you blink up at him blearily, "Do you still have those?"

He quirks a teasing brow at you, "My tattoos? Well, they're kind of permanent. I thought you said you weren't that drunk?"

"You could have gotten them removed," You grouse, "So... do you?"

"Still have them?" He verifies, and when you nod, he bites back most of the force of his smile, "I do."

"Lemme see." You demand, before you can process that you're asking your boss to take his shirt off. His eyebrows raise, nearly merging with his hairline, and you stammer, "Not- like, I'm just curious, they're so... unlike you."

"I've changed a lot," He lets your slip of the tongue slide and you're grateful for it, "I'll show you one."

You watch with wide eyes - you're not aware that you're gawking at your boss, but you are - as he peels away the hem of his shirt from his skin, exposing black ink that you've never seen before tracking up his torso. It's on the left side of his stomach, near his groin: a pair of handcuffs.

"I was into some weird shit," He muses, tongue loose from the drinks he's had. You don't bother gaping at his unprofessionalism, you're stuck staring at the handcuffs.

"Twenty-year old me thought I was gonna be the one in handcuffs, not the one locking them on people," He laughs, and drops his shirt, covering the tattoo. "So, you have any wild teenage tattoos of your own?"

You're a changed woman. Twenty years ago your boss had been whorishly draped over a motorcycle, handcuffs tattooed above his pelvis. You finish the night out in a trance of absent-minded conversation, but it's less from the liquor and more from the stun of seeing Aaron's past self.

If your boss suddenly notices your eyes roving over the spot where his tattoo lies beneath his button-up from then on, he doesn't say a word.

[avatar-anna]

Nothing Left to Lose

saw this photo on pinterest and got inspired! happy weekend, y'all!

Masterlist

*.*

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Don't—Don't ask me that. Please."

"Why?"

Harry sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face, wincing when his fingertips came back with blood on them. "Because we promised not to lie to each other, and I don't want to give you an answer you won't like."

"Damn it, Harry!"

Y/n looked like she wanted to hit something, probably him, but he was too far out of reach. Angry tears lined her eyes as she took an anxious drag from the cigarette that dangled between her fingers, but Harry knew better than to go to her. She was pissed, and he needed to let her seethe properly before comforting her.

"I'm sorry—"

"You're not because you keep doing it!" A tear slipped from Y/n's eye, but she quickly wiped it away. "I told you I didn't want any part of this life. You said—You said you wouldn't do this anymore."

"This isn't something you just send your two weeks notice into, Y/n. I can't just say, 'I quit.'"

"Don't try to explain that bullshit to me, Harry!"

That was a wrong choice of words. Sighing, Harry took a chance and stepped closer to Y/n. "I'm trying, Y/n, really. I know it doesn't sound like it, but I am. I just don't...I don't know how to safely get out of this."

"Then let's run away," Y/n said, grabbing onto his hands desperately, neither of them minding the smoke curling between them. Harry's knuckles were split and bruised, dried blood caked around them, though most of it wasn't his, yet she held onto them anyway. Y/n had never been one to shy away from a little blood. "We can go somewhere, anywhere. The world is such a big place Harry. His network doesn't stretch that far. We can—We can forget all of this."

"It's not that easy—"

"He's using you!" she cried. "He's using you to get to me, you have to know that, Harry."

Harry held her face in his hands as he rested his forehead against hers. He knew nothing about the life they shared was easy. From the moment he stumbled into the bar she worked at, battered and bruised and reeking of trouble, he knew. Y/n had known right away that he was one of her father's men, even if the easily recognizable tattoo that curled around his shoulder and up his neck was covered thanks to the hoodie he wore. What she didn't know was that he'd been purposely tasked with keeping an eye on her, a direct order from her father. That little secret came out months after they met, after Harry realized he was falling for Y/n and that he couldn't hide it anymore.

This wasn't what he expected out of life. He'd fallen into the wrong crowd long before he ever should've, and it spiraled into a life he knew he shouldn't have been proud of. But the money was good and if he kept his head down he didn't get into any serious trouble. There were a couple nights where guilt kept him from sleeping, or when he lied awake in a safehouse because someone else fucked up and he had to disappear for a few days. Maybe his line of work wasn't something to be proud of, but he grew up believing he wouldn't amount to anything, and this life, the one he built for himself, was his and his alone.

All that changed when he met Y/n, though.

He'd never met her prior to the job her father had tasked him with. His boss' daughter was elusive at best, but it was well-known that they were estranged. But Y/n's father still considered her his greatest pride and joy, hence sending Harry to keep an eye on her to make sure she was safe. He'd taken the job, mostly because he couldn't really say no to his boss, but also because he thought it would be easy enough, stress free.

Falling in love was never the objective, yet here he was, and it killed him to see his love cry.

"I know," Harry said quietly, maybe even sounding a little defeated.

"I want a life with you, H," Y/n pleaded, resting her hands over his. "I want a long life with you without my father's shadow hanging over our heads. This...this isn't living. We're hiding."

"I know," he said again. "I know, you're right."

"I love you," Y/n said. "So much, H. That's why it freaks me out when you leave and come back like this. I...I hate what he does. He ruins people, Harry."

Part of him believed it was impossible to get out from under her father's thumb, and part of him was scared of leaving everything he'd ever known behind to start over somewhere new. But for Y/n, he was willing to try. A future with her was worth running into unknown territory.

Harry tried for a smile and kissed Y/n's forehead. "If it makes you feel better, I had a terrible night."

"Mm...Maybe a little," she said, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Is persuading you to kiss it all away off the table?"

Y/n's smile softened into something more somber. "Promise me we'll run away."

Harry looked into Y/n's eyes, saw all the hurt that the cuts and bruises and blood he came home covered in affected her. He wasn't just looking out for himself anymore, Y/n was a part of his life he wasn't willing to give up. She was a non-negotiable, and making her happy had to be his top priority.

"We'll run away," he promised. "Wherever you wanna go, baby. Just you and me."

"Really?" she asked, as if she actually thought Harry wouldn't agree.

"Name a time and place, and we'll go," he said. "I love you, Y/n. I'm in this with you. All of that bullshit means nothing when I have you."

Y/n exhaled, and Harry could practically see a weight lift from her shoulders. Leaning in, she kissed him once, pulling back and giggling a little as she rubbed a thumb gently over the cut on his lip. Pressing one kiss to his cheek, she took his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom they shared.

"Let's see about getting those cuts cleaned up."

"I've actually got one that needs really special attention—"

"Shut up, Styles!"

Harry just grinned as he took the cigarette from Y/n's offering hand and put it in his mouth, happy to hear the laughter in Y/n's voice. There was light for them at this long, winding tunnel. He believed in it, he wanted it enough to believe in it. Harry had never tried to leave this life behind because it was all he'd ever known, there was no reason to try to build a life outside of the crimes he committed. Y/n should've felt that way too, but she didn't. She wanted more for herself, and for him now too. Harry was willing to give up everything, to risk everything, to make sure he was happy, that he was able to give her the life that she wanted.

And if slipping between the fingers of the most powerful man in the city was what she wanted, then he'd find a way to make it happen.

[voxiiferous]

It's not even a surprise really. He and Alastor have an abundance of pride between them. It's the same reason he doesn't acknowledge the radio-- he knows people listen, for the music, the carnage, Alastor himself in some cases, but as far as Vogitek is concerned, there is no radio. "I suppose there's something satisfying in knowing that, at least."

He nods, more people do their own stunts in Hell than in Earth; there's no risk of death if you can't die permanently. Inconvenience sure, but not death, nothing permanent. The dancing is very true-- he's been on both sides of it: the lifts and the spins, and the awkward moments when the attempts ended with a knee to his chest and a face full of petticoat, or the people who were new, and didn't even know what a rock step was. "It's been a long time since I danced with anyone, but you're not wrong. Step, step," he spins a finger in a circle, and then around the other direction. "Spin in opposite directions. Can't expect to follow if you don't know the signs."

The pink lines return, and he shuffles in his seat. "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square," which has never been his favourite, but it had been good, one of the nice ones to end a night on, when the only people left swaying on the floor were the dedicated. "1940, but more than a few people covered it."

He laughs. "I suppose that makes as much sense as anything. Pretty sure I can't market B-movies as educational though." He opens his mouth to agree, or say... something. Forty years ago he'd have reacted without hesitation, loyal to the end... well, 'end', even if it had seemed like forever back then. Thirty years ago he would have said the same thing, maybe with a touch more desperate confidence. Twenty years, a decade ago, it would have been hesitant, a little more scathing. Now... it's not like Astor's wrong. Instead, he forces a laugh, and a mega-watt grin, before dialling the over-comensated glow back. "Nah, you're not wrong. Probably have a better coat if he was." Ah, damn, maybe it was a bad idea to badmouth Val? Too late.

Vox lets out a sound of disgust. "My respect for your better taste in beverages has been ruined. Ruined I say." He glares slightly at the cigarette once again being tapped into his ornament. "You can't kill something that far removed from any semblance of life."

Is it ridiculous? Yes. Does that mean he isn't charmed by it? No. "That might be leaning a little too far into the shark part of him-- I don't much want to try shark fin soup." He pulls his phone from his pocket, pulling up his contact information, and offers it to Astor. "The temptation of getting photos of Vark is a good sales tactic."

"Marshmallows are fine, but I'm not convinced those are what Peeps are." They are an unnatural colour-- and part of him is honestly surprised they get made here at all, and then, no, he's really not. They're exactly the sort of thing that Hell would mass produce.

He's familiar enough with his own display to trace a claw along the narrow gap between smile and eye. "Noses don't go between your eyes," he says, "Your anatomy is all off." Juvenile as it is, he grabs one of the throw pillows from the middle of the couch and lobs it towards Astor's head. "That feels like an awful lot of effort for something you'll just bite off. Also: that's so unsanitary."

Vox wasn't wrong, Alastor did hate it. All of it and he would see it as giving him a win because Vox was annoying and in some cases an idiot in Alastors eyes. Hell, even Astor had considered the media overlord an idiot when he displayed his broken screen on Voxtagram, let people see that he could be broken. Even if he thought they were laughing with him or he was making it seem like he was above it, Astor wasn't fooled. He supposed that came from being raised by Alastor, being shown to smile even when you're unhappy because they can hurt you if they know your weaknesses. "That's why he wouldn't say anything."

Deciding to light up a cigarette while they were no longer next to one another, Astors ears perked at the sound of the song Vox was making, familiar though he wasn't exactly sure of what it was, something Alastor probably fancied himself. Mocking Voxs earlier jazz hands, Astor chuckled. "Anything can look perfectly imperfect if you practice enough, I'm sure actors practice their falls, injuries and the like. Even dancing requires skill. You can't expect to lead someone that has no idea what the waltz is. If we wanted it to look good we'd have to know one another a little longer, how each other moves." He took a drag from his cigarette as he spoke, ear twitching as the tune stopped.

"I liked it.." He offered as Vox cleared his throat. He wasn't above bursting into song and dance if the mood washed over him, he had no reason to make Vox think it wasn't something he could do. It was fun, a show of something joyful in most cases and he didn't see why more people wouldn't want to. It was one thing he could agree with Charlie on, it was fun.

He tilted his head at the question then laughed, waving a hand as he tried to come up with the words, realizing he hadn't called Valentino by his name. He'd gotten so used to just calling him that because he didn't talk to anyone that spent time with him besides Angel and Angel played along. "Oh, you know, cause he's kind of shaped like one." He admitted with an awkward innocence as his ears laid back.

"I watch movies you know, there's alien movies and movies about what Earth and the universe is like. I can only learn so much from people and the rest was TV and the internet to fill in the gaps. I'm not saying I know a lot of stuff but I know what an alien looks like and uh- ..anyway- I probably shouldn't insult your boyfriend in your presence. I wouldn't put up with that." He kicked himself internally for a moment then took another drag off his cigarette, as he started to wander around the room. Nothing like having an obvious distaste for the moth though Vox and Alastor didn't like each other so, it was maybe fine?

Making his way to his makeshift ashtray, Astor clicked his tongue and chuckled as he knocked the ash off. "Hmm...well, if he won't I can always take yours and then we don't have to worry about either of you." He mused, ears still pressed back as he looked to the other again.

"For the best to leave your shadow as he is and I like black coffee, I drown a peep in it in the morning. Doesn't change the taste, just lets me kill something when I wake up." He said with a laugh, his ears picking up once again.

"And...well, if you're the masked man then I guess, that makes me Shaggy." He mused as he took to wandering around again, using his cigarette as a reason to keep his distance for the moment though spreading the blue smoke around wasn't going to keep that charade viable pretty soon.

"Pretty sure Vark wouldn't appreciate a net dropped on him either though it would fall in line with Scooby Doo. Guess it would be better if you gave me your number, if not for Varks sake. Then I can send you pictures of him while you're working so you know what he's up to." He didn't expect the discussion of Scooby Doo or make shift traps to lead him to asking for the overlords number but here they were. He giggled slightly to himself at the ridiculousness that lead him here and shook his head as he took another drag from his smoke, making his way back to his ashtray, he perched on the arm of the couch and cocked a brow.

"Oh ho, you think I won't?" Astors grin split across his face. "I'd chew it first, then stick it to where your nose should be for that kind of blasphemy." He erupted with a laugh as he mocked offense. "And then, I'd bite it off because you don't deserve a nose." He continued to laugh, grin getting wider as he did, hand going up to his chest as he went on. "Oh and you know, I'm pretty sure, I'm the reason that cereal even makes a profit at this point so, you shouldn't be talking too badly about it." Astor snickered, tail wagging cheerfully as he put out his smoke.

"Guess I will have to take over your whole piece of the pentagram, just to make you appreciate marshmallows."

[lucifer-hot-as-hell]

MagicCon 2019

I'm on the train home from MagicCon 2019 in Bonn and this is the 3rd time I try to post this.

I think much has been posted already. So I'm gonna go for personal experiences.

If you have any questions feel free to ask though.

So I had a silver ticket, autographs of all the Lucifer cast and a photo with Tom.

MagicCon is just hilarious in general. The moderators are actually actors (from New Zealand which is not anywhere slightly close to Germany but magiccon was originally pretty much about lord of the rings so it makes sense) and they do comedy panels and improv. And there are not many rules regarding photos and videos on this Con. So it was really relaxed.

On Friday I saw Rachael's panel. She is so sweet, funny and kind. She asked everyone for their name and remembers many people's names...

The opening ceremony and the comedy panel were so funny and weird. Tom played a horse's ass. I went to the party, left after midnight...

On Saturday there were so many Lucifer panels. Each of them was wonderful. Tom performed a song by Damien Rice, which I already posted. I got my artwork signed by Rachael, D. B., Kevin and Lesley-Ann. They were all so sweet. I made keyrings for them and gave it to them at the autograph session.

When we were at the party at night, Rachael and Tom were in the vip area of the piano bar. We were sneaking around on a standing table, trying to act normal... Like pretend to take a selfie when your actually try to take photos Tom. Sean Harry was there as well in suit (on days he wore cosplay) he talked to Tom and Rachael and hugged Rachael when she left. So I read that as a good sign regarding LUX 2 in Birmingham 2020. I left the party at around 1.30 am, shortly after Tom left.

Sunday... The final day. In the morning I realized that I had lost my artwork at the party. It fell out of my bag under the table. So I went a bit crazy freaking out slightly... Nearly bitching our whatsapp group, posting on Twitter... But then the lovely lady at the information desk of the hotel called 3 colleagues and one really found it... Probably in the trash but it was packed in a box so it's fine. I got the call it was found when I was in line for my photo with Tom.

The photoshot was amazing. Tom was in such a good mood and I was as well. I made this shirt for me and one for Tom. And I go up to him and show it to him and ask him if he could wear it. And Tom takes off his glasses, puts the t-shirt over the one he is wearing. This guy watching over the photoshoot is getting impatient... But in German. And Tom doesn't care and I don't. He asked me if I'm alright and said "I don't bite" to which I replied "yeah, I know" we were looking in each other's eyes, then look to the camera. He asks me if he can keep the t-shirt. I hugged him to thank him, when the photographer calls me back, because there was a huge reflection in my glasses. So Tom probably looked better in the first picture because he was also pointing at my design but the reflection was really all over my eye. I saw it for a short moment before it went into the to-be-destroyed box.

So afterwards I collected my artwork, had coffee with fellow lucifans and then went to get the final autograph by Tom on my artwork. He had just come back from a bathroom / cigarette break and was humming while signing. When he signed and complimented me on my work, I said that I also made him a shirt and he said he was still wearing it below the one he was wearing. I actually didn't believe him because he was wearing the shirt he had worn before. I also gave him a bottle of Bavarian craft beer "in case you run out of beer" to which he replied "oh, I've got plenty"

The panel with Tom and Kevin was so much fun. I'll never ever going to be able to hear Kevin Alejandro without thinking "Alejandro, Alejandro" (the song by Lady gaga) I dared to ask a question. I don't know if I came around a bit bitchy when the were joking about the microphone being too high for me. I said "well not everyone can be as tall as you" I asked if they would like to do theater like on the London west end. And they both said absolutely as it was their roots.

There was a panel by the "moderators" and on their panels they do improv which is so much fun. Rachael, Lesley-Ann and Alexander vlahos joined and it was just too funny. Lesley-Ann is just so physical and they all had really dirty minds.

Lucifer panel next...so Tom comes in and he wears the shirt I made for him... And nothing under it... So he had probably told the truth earlier. I got him size L and it was really tight. The panel was great.. Just the spirit. We made Tom ride a trycicle like in the episode and he crashed. There's videos on Twitter. I really liked the first question when there was fan who has cerebral palsy (rather mild form affecting the hands mainly but I didn't see until they mentioned it.. And I usually do. She was dressed as Maze and could flip the knives like... Wow) and she asked if maybe they would want to have a character with a disability on the show. I really liked this question. Lesley-Ann suggested a deaf person as she knows some sign language. But they said the good thing about Lucifer is that Lucifer and Maze's sexuality (first sie said Tom and mine and then corrected it) is just there... It's not a big deal and a disability would probably not be as well.

In the closing ceremony Tom performed 2 songs.... I had goosebumps and tears were running from my eyes... So emotional. I have it on my camera... But I'm sure it's on Twitter soon. They all went crazy on stage, Kevin danced in the crowd, Rachael and Lesley-Ann pretended to make out...

We left the panel and said goodbye to the ones leaving. And suddenly Tom passes. I just went to him (well, he literally went by me so I didn't have to go anywhere) and I just thanked him for wearing the shirt. And he hugged me. It was so lovely. 2 hugs with Tom Ellis on one day...

But convention is not only about the stars... The fans make it what it is. I met people I knew from Brighton. There is one lady of our group who I totally adore because she is so super mature (she's a teacher) and yet such a crazy fangirl and she is a fanfiction author and people came up to her and complimented her on her work. It was so sweet. Like she could have done autographs as well. On Sunday I sat in the bar and restaurant for 5 hours with @adragonstale, his friend, my dear and slightly crazy friend who I had met in Brighton and 2 ladies from our group. We talked about Lucifer and "deep stuff" (pretty much the meaning of life and how to survive in this world... I love this kind of conversations) there were a few people I met only pasding by. Sorry @draco9236 I was in a bad mood before getting my drawing back on Sunday. @omgluciferlover (Why did I think you were Italian after Brighton?) Kinda left in the middle of a conversation but it's okay. I hope everyone had as much fun as I had.

Lucifans are lovely people and it was just lovely. The cast is so kind, sweet and funny and they all really seemed to enjoy it.... Even if for some reason they weren't allowed beer on stage anymore from Saturday afternoon on (not that Tom cared... He brought some when he had a bathroom break...)

I already start missing everything and everyone and this has certainly not been my last Lucifer convention. Look forward to meeting everyone again

[maacbrem]

Fuck it we ball:

Beau is a newbie defence attorney, moving into her mentor's office when Dairon moves on to another city for ~unspecified reasons~

Her first client is Fjord (no last name given, though the court docket says Stone. She follows his lead and ignores that.). He's been accused of sabotaging the Tide's Breath, destroying thousands of dollars in cargo and injuring the crew, including several deaths. Captain Vandran is presumed lost with the wreckage, and Sabien, Fjord's bunk mate, claims to have seen Fjord tampering with the engine that later exploded.

First stop is the precinct to interview her new client - not really her client, since he'd only called her office because Vandran had apparently used Dairon as his own defence in a sealed case years ago, but Fjord will take what he can get. (Even if what he gets is a newbie lawyer with objectively terrible people skills. He does what he can to coach her on being approachable through the plexiglass.)

Enter Detective Veth Brenatto, pack mule of the department who gets stuck with the boring open-and-shut cases that the other hotshots in the precinct don't have time for. She's a strange combination of obnoxious and skittish, with a knack for noticing small details but can never get anyone to take her case theories seriously. If you stick around long enough she'll show you the photo of her husband and son that she keeps in her wallet, which is different from the two on her desk and the one in her car.

/

"Pretty dumb move, taking this case," Veth says with a roll of her eyes. She pauses in the middle of lighting her cigarette. "Right, damn. You mind? I swapped one habit for another. It's only temporary." She rolls up her sleeve to show three nicotine patches in a line up her bicep. They don’t seem to be helping.

Whatever kind she's smoking, at least it doesn't stink like cheap tar. Beau waves her off.

“Whatever, man. Listen, I know you've got a weird little hate-friend-flirt-thing for the guy but you've gotta admit, this whole thing is sketchy as hell."

"We've got an eye-witness," Veth reminds her. Beau scoffs.

"Yeah, a bitter ex with a list of reasons to resent him and a new job lined up entirely by coincidence."

"That's what I've been saying!" Veth hacks, nearly swallowing her cigarette. "Fuck, ow, tongue burn - Sabien's fucking shady!"

/

In the spirit of cooperation and a fair trial in an unfair system, and also because Beau is one of the only lawyers - prosecution or defence - who actually listens to what she has to say, Veth lets Beau review the evidence and search the crime scene. The scene is really just the pieces of the Tide's Breath pulled out of the water; the blasted engine, miscellaneous recovered crew effects and cargo, and the black box recording of the voyage.

Don't ask me how the case actually goes I do not have the brainpower for this. Sabien's guilty and his motive is Reasons. Uk’otoa crime syndicate? Much to ponder.

Vandran remains a loose end, and Fjord decides to stick to land for a while to figure himself out, maybe see if he can track down any of his captain's family. He starts taking odd jobs around town and passing Beau any interesting rumours he hears. If she wants to know anything about a client or someone connected to a case, chances are Fjord will be able to gather that information for her.

/

Fjord rubs the back of his neck, toes scuffing the carpet of her office.

"I don't know how much help it'll really be," he demurs. "But let's be honest, your people skills..."

"Fucking suck," Beau finishes. Fjord shrugs but he also grins, the asshole.

"You're the one who said it."

Beau rolls her eyes and grins back, crooked and with too many teeth.

"You drink?" She asks, already reaching into one of the lower desk drawers. She pulls out a wine bottle she'd been saving for some unspecified celebration and a set of mismatched cups. "Sit down, you're killing me. I saved your ass. That makes us friends now, right?"

She hates how fucking desperate she sounds at the end. But Fjord sits and drinks with her and conversation comes easier than she thinks it ever has for her.

When she's finally settled into the job enough to pick up old habits they start running together in the mornings.

Should I post the notes/draft pieces of the Mighty Nein Ace Attorney AU