#I prefer to close my eyes and throw my writing into the abyss of public opinion

[inkandarsenic]

these hollow empty spaces (1)

“do what is right, not what is easy.”

My first Game of Thrones fic! Notably, this is not the idea I sent in an ask to @dipperscavern, but rather one sort of inspired by a separate ask. I tried to link both asks, but tumblr won’t let me. Anyhoops.

Synopsis: The youngest daughter of Tywin Lannister refuses to stand idly by, and the currents of fate shift.

Pairing: Robb Stark x Lannister!OC

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers but like enemies more in the political sense

Pt. 1

masterlist | next

The North passed outside the window in an endless expanse of rolling moors and sprawling forests – nature at its finest. The air up here was clean and cold, almost sweet after the stink of King’s Landing. Maybe that’s why Eleyna couldn’t stop drawing back the heavy curtains that kept the cold out.

Cersei huffed. “Must you stare out the window? It’s not as if there is anything interesting out there.” She glared at Eleyna. “You’ll make the children sick, they aren’t used to this dreadful chill.”

The children in question were playing a game quietly in their corner of the wheelhouse, and looked rather warm, if Eleyna was being honest. The only one who could complain of being cold was Joffrey, riding outside with Jaime. Eleyna rolled her eyes at her sister and let the curtain drop. “You are the only one complaining, dear sister. Forgive me for wanting to enjoy the beauty of the North.”

“The beauty of a frozen, barren wasteland?” Cersei scoffed.

“You’ve been in the city too long, Cersei,” Eleyna sighed. “The North is not a wasteland.”

“No?” Cersei waved a hand at the window. “How many cities have we passed? How many keeps?” She shook her head disdainfully. “It has been days since we saw civilization, if that swamp can be called such. Barren wasteland.”

Eleyna sighed and leaned back in her seat. “That swamp is Moat Cailin. It is the first defense of the North against Southron invasions and it has never been taken precisely because of the swamp it sits on. You should know this, Cersei, don’t you ever listen to Father and Jaime?” She smirked faintly. “Or do you and Jaime not… talk about such things?”

Cersei scowled. Her voice was sharp when she spoke. “I have better things to worry about than Northern defenses.”

Eleyna shrugged and looked back out the window. “Let us all hope you never lead a war then.”

“Spending all those years with only Father and Tyrion for company has made you paranoid,” Cersei scoffed. “Do you expect us to be going to war with the North sometime soon, sister? Ned Stark is Robert’s loyal dog, you know that as well as I. I don’t worry about Northern defenses because there is no reason to. Lord Stark is loyal to Robert, and Robert plans to betroth the Stark girl to my Joffrey. We will have Northern loyalty for decades to come.”

“You sound so certain,” Eleyna mused. She certainly wouldn’t want to be Sansa Stark — Joffrey had become quite the mean-spirited boy in her years away from the Red Keep, and she often wondered what happened to the sweet little toddler he’d been when she left. Maybe he’d be kinder to his future wife.

****

There is a surprising amount of people in the courtyard of Winterfell when Eleyna follows Tyrion out of the wheelhouse ahead of Cersei and the children. The entire Stark household came out to meet the King, it seems. From the corner of her eye, Eleyna can see Joffrey preening, and she rolls her eyes at him, turning away before he can see.

The Stark family makes up the first line of welcoming party. A tall, serious-faced man near Robert’s age (wearing his years better, in Eleyna’s opinion) stands next to a pretty red-headed woman – Ned Stark and his Tully wife. She can hear her father in her head — “Honorable to a fault – where does honor get you in war?” — as she watches Lord Stark and his household kneel before Robert. The King waves them to their feet and regards Lord Stark solemnly.

“You got fat,” Robert says. Eleyna scoffs internally — Robert enjoyed his wine and feasting, and it showed — and she watches Ned Stark raise an eyebrow pointedly before both men start to laugh. She resists the urge to shake her head and moves her attention to the rest of the Starks.

Eleyna means to scan down the line of children — five of them, and all close in age, gods above Lord and Lady Stark had been busy — but her eyes land on the Heir of Winterfell and stop. Robb Stark’s coloring is all Tully, like his mother, all dark auburn curls and bright blue eyes. The expression he wears is all Lord Stark. She wonders idly what he’d look like wearing a smile — something tells her it would light his face up.

Tywin had brought Robb Stark up exactly once, when Eleyna had come of an age to betroth. Robert had wanted Tywin to arrange a marriage between the Stark heir and the Lannister heir. Tywin had read the letter to her and then promptly thrown it on the fire. He was adamant that his heir would not ever marry into the North. “You are a lioness, my daughter, and no child of mine will be a wolf if I can help it.”

“— and my goodsister, the Lady Eleyna Lannister.” Robert’s voice filtered in, and Eleyna blinked. She’d been staring at the Stark boy too long.

****

Robb stood solemnly by his father as they filled the courtyard. He could guess at some of them by reputation alone — the tall golden haired knight must be the Kingslayer, Ser Jaime Lannister, and the boy next to him was likely the Crown Prince, Joffrey. The king — a larger man than Robb had expected, a man who looked as though he enjoyed wine — stopped in front of Father, and the two men stared at each for a long tense moment.

Robb looked past them as the king spoke jovially to his father and greeted his mother. The queen’s wheelhouse had made it — barely — into the courtyard. First out was a short, little man who shared the Kingslayer’s blonde hair. “That’s the Imp!” Robb heard Arya whisper.

Robb’s eyes caught on the next person to exit, a golden-haired girl who looked close to his own age. He mentally ran through the members of the queen’s family — with that blonde hair, how could she be anything but Lannister? — and decided this had to be Eleyna Lannister, Tywin Lannister’s youngest daughter. He studied her delicate features, softer somehow than her elder sister’s. Robb would never say it — hadn’t Theon just said that morning that the queen was proud and vain? — but Eleyna Lannister was, in a word, beautiful, moreso than her sister in his opinion.

The instant the introductions and ceremony were finished, Father and the king disappeared down into the crypts, and the Lannisters were escorted off to the guest wing. Robb found his eyes following the Lady Eleyna as she passed by him, her arm around the shoulders of Prince Tommen.

Theon thumped him on the shoulders. “Aye, she’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He inhaled through his teeth as he watched the Lannister heiress walk away. “You know I heard they call her the Golden Rose of the Westerlands? Gods above, imagine being the man to get to marry that?”

Robb didn’t want to imagine it, not when he could feel Jaime Lannister’s glare boring into the side of his head. Rather, he felt like any perceived slight against the Kingslayer’s little sister would earn him a sword through the back. He swallowed, and dragged Theon off out of Lannister’s earshot before he could get himself in trouble.

****

“You’re walking with the Stark boy tonight,” Cersei said as she swept into the library. Eleyna looked up from her book with an eyebrow raised.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Cersei,” she snarked. “What are you on about now?”

“Myrcella is far too young to be considered for a betrothal,” Cersei snapped. She sat dramatically in a chair across the table — Eleyna oft thought Cersei would have done well in a theater troupe. “And I will be dead in the grave before I see my only daughter shipped off North.”

“I wasn’t aware Lord Stark was seeking a marriage for his heir,” Eleyna hummed. She closed the book and eyed her elder sister. “Are you not concerned with offending our hosts? Custom dictates that eldest available son and the eldest available daughter enter together.”

Cersei waved it away. “He isn’t, as far as I know. But you know Robert. He’ll take any opportunity to join our family with his precious Starks. Bad enough that he’s already promised Joff to the eldest Stark girl. No.” She shook her head. “To hell with custom. The Stark boy will have to content himself with you instead of my sweet Myrcella. I will not have my only daughter placed in the hands of a Northern brute.”

“Cersei.” Eleyna had long since mastered the exact tone of voice Tywin Lannister used to keep his children in line — perks of growing up at her father’s knee — and Cersei rolled her eyes, but stopped insulting the Starks, thank the gods.

It was a long moment before Eleyna spoke again. “I will walk with Robb Stark.” Cersei started to smirk and Eleyna resisted the urge to hit her sister — as usual, Cersei had gotten what she wanted. She gritted her teeth as she spoke. “You… are not entirely wrong. Myrcella is rather young. She’d be better suited with the younger Stark boy. Bran, I believe his name is.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Cersei patted Eleyna’s hand and swept out of the room as Tyrion entered.

“That’s not—” But Cersei was already gone. Eleyna rolled her eyes.

“Cersei in the library?” Tyrion said with an air of incredulity as he took Cersei’s seat. “Whatever is that about?”

“It seems I’m to be escorted by Robb Stark this evening. Cersei is convinced that if he takes Myrcella, Robert will betroth her to the man.” Eleyna eyed her brother over the table. “I don’t know how and I don’t know why. But somehow, this is your fault.”

Tyrion shrugged, tapping idly. “You wound me, sister. You truly believe me so scheming?”

“Yes,” Eleyna said flatly. She shook her head and reopened her book. “You know as well as I how protective Cersei is of her children.”

“Her one redeeming quality.”

Eleyna’s lips quirked. “You said something to her. Admit it.”

“It is hardly my fault if our dear elder sister takes a jest seriously,” Tyrion said casually. “No real harm done, though. In fact, I do believe you will make a fine couple with the young Stark, should a betrothal actually form from this single escort.”

Eleyna snorted in a rather unladylike manner. “Father would sooner see dragons return.”

Tyrion couldn’t really disagree with that, but he shrugged anyway. “Stranger things have happened.”

Eleyna didn’t dignify that with a response.

[jade-marie]

Top 10 books fics I read in 2020

Tagged by @sothischickshe

I don’t read books. I’m trash. So have my top 10 fics. These aren’t in any real order, btw.

Finally got round to adding some content to each one. Send word to my family, I died doing this. All the fluffy goodness is hitting me right in the feels😭😭😭

Do not collect $200 by @mrslackles

My OG favourite series. I will talk about this till the cows come home, I will read it over and over again until the day I die. So fucking good. The plot, the characterisation, the angst, the fluff, it just has everything and I fucking love it.

Favourite snippet:

Her touch is so light that Rio shivers and his tongue darts out for a second, meeting two of her fingers, and it makes their eyes meet.

And the look she finds there, god, it’s indescribable – no words, there are no words. Yet she knows what it means. Nobody’s ever told me I’m a good kisser and nobody’s ever touched you like this.

She doesn’t say it aloud but it doesn’t matter, not really. They both know it.

And Beth doesn't know when she falls asleep, only that it's with her palm on his throat and her fingers splayed over his lips.

Lush life by @hereliesbb

Lush life is basically my comfort blanket. I have a bad day, I read it and I’m smiling again. Every time. Without fail. The fluffiest fucking shit I’ve ever read in my life, even the angst is fluffy. I love it so much, I cannot find the words. 

Favourite snippet:

“What?” she asked when she saw he was staring. She looked back in the mirror to make sure she didn’t have anything in her teeth.

“You’re beautiful,” he said and then huffed like he was making fun of himself. Beth felt her face flush and about a hundred thousand butterflies take flight inside of her.

Warm water by @inyoursheets

Angst, yearning, friends to lovers, slow burn AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES. Such a good read omg 😫

Favourite snippet:

She kisses him.

Elizabeth. Elizabeth kisses him.

He can’t move—can’t think, not with her up close, her scent overwhelming him, her soft body pressed into him—when she’s already pulling back, jerking to a halt.

And just like that, he’s done. Finished. Can no longer find it in him to keep it up, his carefully crafted indifference, the control he tried to grasp so eagerly. No point guarding it from her any longer, not with those wild, wide eyes peering up at him like he can give her something, here, now.

Good sport by fireinsideforfun

Again, phenominal characterisation. I love the way she portrays their vulnerability. It’s just so so so beautifully written. 

Also, the image of Rio drowning in a pair of ginormous pyjamas makes me feel some shit🤣

 Favourite snippet:

“You’re not going to go rotten on me, are you darlin’?” he quietly asks her.

The question takes her aback, because although his voice is gentle his eyes are speaking volumes, something dark and desolate brewing.

“No. Never,” she says to him and means it.

He scoffs. “How can you know?”

“Because we’ve already been there before,” she says, and she can tell he knows what she’s referring to. “I already tried to get rid of the king and I couldn’t do it. We’ve been through those motions together. It’s done.”

Milkshakes by @emilykolburn

Dad Rio vibes, Rio and babies. Milkshake meetcute. I cannot. Literally so adorable.

Favourite snippet:

Rio was looking her up and down, slowly taking in every inch of her that he could, and she noted that he had that twinkle in his eyes again. When his eyes eventually found hers, he tilted his head to the side a little, tongue running slowly across his bottom lip. The intensity in the eye contact alone made her want to shrink away. She wasn’t used to it, she realised, but the longer they looked into each other’s eyes, and the way the corner of his mouth slowly twitched up into a smirk, she found she liked it.

Irresistible by @wakeupflawless

Highschool au. Enemies to lovers. I eat that shit UP.

Before anyone could say anything, she grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down to her for a very public, very dirty kiss.

“Oh, shit,” She heard Pedro say.

For once in his life Rio must have been stunned, because he was frozen against her for a moment. He grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to him and deepening the kiss. The bystanders erupted, she heard hoots and hollers coming from the guys and exclamations of “Oh my God!” from the girls.

“Hey! That’s enough” Called the Vice Principal, “Everyone get to class!”

Beth broke their kiss, panting slightly and grinning ear to ear.

“What was that?” Rio asked, raising his eyebrows.

“So everyone knows I’m hittin’ it,” Beth replied, smirking, “And also to say sorry,”

Love despite by @itsbriology

Dad Rio strikes again. If Lindsay throws in one more big-hand-small-baby-ratio reference... i’m pretty sure my ovaries will explode inside of my body and I’ll die of internal bleeding 🙃🙃🙃

Favourite snippet:

The hiccups lasted longer than he thought, almost to the point he wondered if there wasn’t something else he could do for her. But they eventually slowed and so did her tears, and then he stopped and looked down at her little head full of soft brown hair that had landed on his chest and watched her eyes drift shut again from the pure exhaustion of the near traumatizing event.

“There ya go, sleepy head. See, I told ya.” He laughed down at her as he continued holding her and pushing the cart down the aisle. A little old lady stopped and took in the sight of them.

“Someone’s a good daddy,” She smiled up at him with Jane cozy in his arms and he stopped. The lady looked to be about eighty and probably weighed seventy pounds.

“Uhh, no… this ain’t…” He tried telling her but she interrupted.

“What an adorable little girl you’ve got there.”

The lady looked up at them grinning.“Thank you.” He smiled back, not knowing what else to say in that moment.

Criminology 101 by @sdktrs12

College au. Cars being destroyed. Fluffy shit. Idiots being idiots. LOVE ITTTTT

He moves one hand up to brush her hair out of her face. “Do you trust me?”

I do that’s the whole problem, she wants to scream. She finds herself nodding quietly instead.

“That’s good.” He leans down, presses his lips against her temple in a soft kiss that makes her heart skip a beat.

Beth closes her eyes as she leans into him, giving in and letting herself fall into the dark abyss that is his touch, his smell, his voice.

Shit.

She’s in so much trouble.

Both sides of the law by @joeyjoeylee

Slow burn. Y E A R N I N G. But they don’t even know they’re yearning. Taking the constant oneupmanship and translating it into a law school setting - genius. So so good.

Favourite snippet:

“Shouldn’t you be at the bar?” She really needed to let Gretchen know some of the staff had a distinct professionalism problem. If, or when, she was in charge of throwing the party next year, she’d have to make sure they did a better job of recruiting the help.

“Was just there, actually.” He wiggled his hand to show her the beer bottle he was holding. “But Gretch got on me ‘bout not having my nametag.”

She was confused and a little scandalized. Was he really drinking on the job? And…”Gretch”? He had to mean Gretchen? Granted, Beth barely knew her, but Gretchen hadn’t seemed like someone who would be on a first name basis with the staff. And why would he have a nametag? Nametags were for the students, and he was just a bartender…

Oh.

Oh no.

Everything seemed suddenly to be moving very slowly and she seemed to be watching it all unfold from outside her own body.

She watched him lean closer again to reach behind her and pick up the last nametag from the table.

She watched him pluck the Sharpie from her hand and use it to cross out “Christopher” then write “Rio” in big block letters that still managed to look messy.

Then she watched as he made a production of pinning the nametag just so to his lapel, mirroring her, exact and mocking, grinning down at her all the while.

Oh no.

A time to kill @sothischickshe

JUSTICE FOR MICK. And his shirt. Poor bby did not sign up for dealing with these two dumbasses and their dumbassery. Grumpy Rio pov is always a winner in my book. It’s comedy gold.

Favourite snippet:

Jesus, her hair is past lank. He sniffs. “You’re ripe. Go shower, man.”

Elizabeth grumbles incessantly until he agrees she can have coffee first, but he draws a line under a single cup, demanding she hurry.

Rio opens the windows wide as they allow. There’s a distinct scent of manure in the air, but it honestly might be preferable.

“That shirt needs washing too!” he yells from a safe nasal distance.

She literally punts the shirt at him from the bathroom, before slamming then locking the door. The handle vibrates for ages after.

He debates sourcing some tongs to handle the offending item with. When he can’t find any, considers setting fire to it instead. Surely Elizabeth can make herself a dress outta all the hair she incessantly moults over every inch or some shit.

Eventually he chucks it in for a wash with some other bits, holding his nose closed.

Elizabeth’s in the bathroom for fucking ages. He assumes it’s payback for pointing out she stunk, or whatever. But it ain’t cute.

He jiggles the handle, knocks on the door. There’s no response.

“Oi!” Rio shouts. “Hurry up, I gotta piss!” It’s not, strictly speaking, true. But. It could be. Hogging the bathroom’s just rude.

“Go away!” she squawks. Then, “Go outside!”

He keeps it up, and she mostly ignores him. Though when he insinuates she’s taking the world’s longest shit, she does straight up tell him to fuck off.

Tagging @purplemagic @wakeupflawless @00gangfriend00 @joeyjoeylee

[big-stupid-jellyfish]

oh boy here we go with some incredible bullshit, and it’s not fantasy au

tweet source

3k words, bakushima, very prologue of it, i’m hanging it there for myself so it motivates me to write it, fuckdamnit, several years after graduation, post bad breakup and gonna get worse before it gets better

It took Bakugou probably a couple of years to learn that not every encounter with villains was meant to be streamed online as it was happening with a journalist narrating actions to live audience. The majority of them were reported, routinely, with occasional interview afterwards and few mentions on social media from bystanders. Some of operations were meant to be entirely discreet, especially when cooperating with police.

He knew the procedures in details, of course. It just took a while to learn to change approaches to the mission depending on him being watched or not. Announcing his arrival with a loud explosion always felt good. It didn't always guarantee his success, as it turned out on many, maybe too many occasions.

When he received a notification about a culprit on the run being supposedly nearby, he estimated the density of the crowd, significance of the crime, and judged that it wasn't worth getting a lot of attention to.

He made his way through abandoned factory, blaming the quietness the outskirts of the town he was patrolling for such unpromising events. If he was quick enough, he suspected that the journalists wouldn't be able to make it in time to actually catch any footage before he was done with the villain.

It didn't matter.

He silently prowled the building, approaching the source of the noise he was sure he heard when he entered it. The specifics on the culprit weren't impressive as well: extra arms as their quirk, minor crimes on the list. Best to deal with it quickly, get visual contact, stun grenade to incapacitate, done-

The wall to Bakugou's right broke, someone flying through the fresh hole in it at pretty high speed, this sudden development interrupting his flow of thoughts.

A fight? Bakugou sure as hell was going to welcome it.

The person who just was used as a wrecking ball jumped up at his feet like nothing happened, ready to continue confrontation with whoever threw him. He didn't seem to notice Bakugou yet.

Bakugou was momentarily frozen in his tracks, unsure what to do. He recognized the man. He didn't think he'd meet Kirishima in observable future again, not after all years since they parted ways, but there he was, as real as ever, in his hero costume, armored by rock skin, hyped for a fight.

A six-armed man appeared through the hole in the wall, the culprit Bakugou was looking for.

"Strong bastard," Kirishima spat through his teeth, grinning at his opponent.

His smile was so confident and bright it was a little painful to look at.

"Stun," Bakugou said, his reflexes taking over at the opportunity as he outstretched his arm towards the villain, "grenade!"

Before he closed his eyes to avoid the flash, he noticed Kirishima turning to him with disbelieving look on his face.

As he correctly predicted, a simple stun was enough to render the criminal vulnerable for enough time to immobilize him. Kirishima rushed to tackle and handcuff him, throwing suspicious glares in Bakugou's direction, surely caught off guard by unlikely meeting as much as him.

Bakugou took out the phone to notify the police that the job was done. He wasn't looking forward to waiting for them to arrive in Kirishima and villain's company. As he stubbornly kept silent, ignoring Kirishima's staring, he felt a little, cowardly feeling somewhere deep inside him, urging to flee the place and leave full credit for the catch to Kirishima if that meant not dealing with him right now.

He gritted his teeth, furious at himself for thinking about these things at all.

"Fancy meeting you here, Katsuki."

Bakugou exhaled through his nose. Of course Kirishima wasn't going to let him be, without acting friendly, as if there wasn't an abyss between them.

Except that Bakugou noticed caution in Kirishima's tone, a tangible edge to his voice. The abyss was there alright. No bridges across it. Just looking at the other side, making sure it's still far away, unreachable.

"I work here. I don't fucking recall your name on news around the town," Bakugou answered, accusatory.

Kirishima shrugged, leaning on the poor wall that had suffered too much this day. He side-eyed the criminal, but apparently decided that small talk wasn't too important to be overheard.

"I just moved in. My agency is merging with another one, from here, and they offered me to move with them. I like them and I wanted to travel a bit," he let a little smile on his lips, something so weirdly regular and familiar that it made Bakugou only angrier.

He wished the police would get here soon, take the culprit off his hands, and preferably no press because they'd definitely decide to throw some questions about impromptu teamwork even for such small case. For some reason media loved glossing over situational partnership in this field.

"What agency?" Bakugou asked. He wasn't really up to date with news of his own agency, something he deliberately omitted unless it affected his contract and work conditions directly, and as he worked alone without sidekicks, he didn't get the rumors shared by other heroes employed there daily. Yet he vaguely recalled something similar about having influx of heroes from other agency shutting its office down somewhere far away.

Kirishima answered him, naming both his previous place and where he moved to.

In response to Bakugou's tense silence, he said, not quite asking:

"You work there, don't you." He sounded a little bit sad. Just for that, Bakugou wanted to punch him, though he wasn't sure what was the exact reason for that feeling.

Police sirens saved them from the disgrace that was this conversation. Bakugou was normally actively resentful towards the procedures, but now he was glad to fill the reports and answer questions.

He asserted the situation objectively, describing it dryly, signed the reports and informed the police he had the duty to continue his patrol, all by the book. He ignored Kirishima's presence, even though it wasn't easy - it never was, not when he looked so delighted to introduce himself to officers, tell them that he was new around there, how he gifted them his smiles easily.

As soon as it was possible, Bakugou left, dragging leftovers of air surrounding his former classmate and first love with him, almost suffocating in it. He was caught off guard, and right now he didn't want to think what anything about that encounter meant, what implications it bore. How it seemed like years hadn't passed, and Kirishima was still the same as ever, with his stupid spiky red hair, even stupider hero costume, now fitting him better, or his trademarked smile full of sharp teeth, making him squint a little, contagious and radiant.

Bakugou focused on one thing, clinging to the difference as if it was important, getting angrier at it as if it was reasonable.

The fucker grew up taller than him.

 * * *

Kirishima honestly tried feeling good about his new agency and the whole idea of moving to another town.

Back then, in his old place, it seemed to be the most obvious choice, with his agency shutting down and his career stalled. It was mostly the issue of circumstances, nothing he could blame on his manager or even his own lackluster performances: local government of that town made significant efforts in lowering crime rates in past several years. Kirishima took part in them, assisting assaults on the villain bases and leading courses for civilians about self-defense and cooperation with law enforcement.

The reforms were fruitful, which was something Kirishima was genuinely glad about. But it became significantly difficult to keep the peace when there were so little disturbances. At first, Kirishima used that unexpected free time at job to be in public kind of... socializing with citizens instead of actually protecting them. Training rookies was still a bit too early for him, but he took an internship from one student for a semester anyway. Then it all just got ridiculous, to a point where he was getting invited for photosessions into fashion magazines (he tried to convince himself that the theme was actually fashion and not something less... decent) that got him a surprising surge in popularity, but it all felt severely lacking. Or even cheating, to get all those new fans without actually accomplishing anything, without doing what he was trained for and loved doing.

Then his manager announced he was going to retire this year, and the perspective of their agency shutting down became reality, as with several other agencies in the town. There were two options: either stay there and transfer to two major agencies that were consolidating heroes from smaller firms with the promise of hard competition between them, or to leave the place entirely and start anew.

Kirishima didn't want to leave the town. He learned its every corner and knew a lot of people there. But it wasn't going to do him any good if he couldn't do the job on the scale he knew he was capable of. He made his decision when he noticed other employees talking about transferring to an agency somewhere across the country that was expanding rapidly, in a large coastline city. A short look at the crime rates of that place justified the long distance, and spiked Kirishima's attention.

He suspected nothing would top his high-school experiences, but from far away, the new place seemed pretty promising.

Now, as he was sitting in the conference hall, waiting to be introduced to the team, he wondered if he made a mistake, and if he did, how he could find a way to make the best of his decision anyway.

He didn't expect anything from his yesterday's patrol, if it could be even called that, with him arriving only that morning, getting introduced to his new manager and deciding that he was feeling too anxious about spending the whole day in his new flat doing nothing. He dumped his bags on the floor and decided to start getting acquainted with new streets, getting into his hero costume just in case. It was somewhat surprising to learn that his manager hooked up his phone to the police feed already when he got the notification calling him to do his job.

That was a pleasant surprise, to be called in need. Meeting his former high-school crush on the job - not so much.

He probably should have paid attention to the roster before, but it wasn't like Kirishima was keeping tabs on Bakugou after high school nor he actively tried to avoid meeting him. He just didn't think this was a possibility. When he returned back to his new flat and searched the official website of the agency, though, it didn't take him long enough to discover that Bakugou played a pretty big role in that place. Bakugou wasn't even using a hero alias in his work, going under his real name.

If he knew it beforehand, would that affect his decision to move here?

Before he could get into another loop of anxious thinking about possible mistakes and wasted opportunities, his manager came.

"Good morning, Red Riot," he said, sitting at the table.

"Good morning."

The manager looked mildly sleep-deprived and indifferent towards his new employee, probably in a sore need of coffee. Kirishima noticed that he put a thick bunch of papers on the table before him, face down, that resembled several standard-sized professional hero contracts, and wondered how many heroes he had under his responsibility.

"I have a proposition for you, and I wanted to get down to business as soon as possible, but," the manager looked at his clock, "not everyone is-"

The door to the hall opened again, and Bakugou entered, dressed in casual clothes. Kirishima watched how he noticed his presence, red eyes narrowing, and it felt as if somebody called an orbital strike on Kirishima's precise location.

It was a little bit amusing to confirm that death glares were still a thing.

“You're late," the manager noted sternly, and Bakugou averted his eyes to stare him down instead. "Good morning, Bakugou."

"I was patrolling overtime. And it's my day off," he retorted, not returning the greeting, and sat down on the far end of the table, away from Kirishima. "What the fuck am I here for?"

Kirishima wondered about that as well.

The manager took the contracts before them, looked up something on first pages and slid two of them towards the heroes, a single copy to each.

"Red Riot is working for us now, and the PR had a suggestion about what role he might play in our rows. This is a standard contract for partnership for you two. Nobody is anybody's sidekick, considering your age and experience, equal share of screentime and rewards."

The words didn't quite sink in until Kirishima skimmed through the first paragraphs, pre-typed text with his name and everything. When the hell did they even prepare that all?

"I don't do partnership," Bakugou said, not even touching his copy.

"There are benefits to it. We have noticed a slight decrease in your ratings lately, and changing the team makeups is a general procedure."

Kirishima frowned. The PR and popularity prediction was a foggy area for him, something he was actively discouraged from looking into before, because his job was to keep peace and do it loudly, and the management's job was to make it attractive to public. He wasn't sure how that lead to this situation.

"You've had an encounter yesterday already. It was minor, but the public picked it up and dug up some of your high school story- thing is, they like the idea of two former U.A. students working together."

Foggy area or not, Kirishima suspected that it wasn't the full reason. Probably the /PR/ liked that idea, given that he ran into Bakugou completely by accident and it was unlikely they could make such a decision overnight. The manager just was trying to convince them that it was what the public wanted.

It was always a blurry line when his job as a hero ended and his job as a public entertainer began.

"It might not work out well," he said. "Katsuki and I parted on bad terms."

Bakugou turned to him sharply and scowled, as if he was displeased to hear Kirishima talking at all.

The manager shrugged.

“You are pros. You should be able to work it out while on job." He massaged his temples. "Besides, you are completely new here, and you starting from zero isn't a good prospect for the agency as a whole either. You need to bring us results, Red Riot."

The tone didn't imply that suggesting getting paired with heroes Kirishima transferred with was going to be heard. He cast a glance at Bakugou, sure that his former classmate was going to object to this angrily, refusing to drag someone else on his coattails, but he was silently drilling his copy of contract with his eyes.

"Well?" The manager hurried them, now openly annoyed.

Kirishima pretended to read through the contract, flipping the pages. He knew that there was no obligation from him to sign anything, but getting stubborn promised complications for him. He was currently trying to figure out with how many complications he was willing to put up with.

"I'll sign it."

Funny, he thought he heard Bakugou saying "I'll sign it".

Kirishima looked up and saw that Bakugou was watching him expectantly, daring him to say something.

"Wait, what?" Kirishima asked, dumbstruck.

Bakugou's eyes were trained straight on his, angry and defensive, silent threat to not make him repeat himself in them.

Kirishima looked away, staring at the place on the page for his signature. Just how many complications was he willing to put up with?

He remembered Bakugou's hero record from the site. What he achieved was impressive, to say the least, and getting a share of this would definitely be good to Kirishima's career. The thought was so selfish, pragmatic that Kirishima inwardly cringed at himself.

Quick glance at Bakugou's stubborn scowl confirmed that he was challenging Kirishima in something. It was hard to tell. Maybe a relatively easy agreement to their manager's offer was an attempt at peace, in Bakugou's manner.

Kirishima hoped it was. It was surprising, but when he thought about it, he discovered he wanted it to be. Maybe someday his optimism was going to bite him in the ass.

"Alright, I'll sign it."

After the paperwork was dealt with, the manager announced he had another meeting, took signed copies for agency and left, promising to mail them updated schedules as soon as possible. Kirishima was somewhat disappointed - he still expected proper introduction to the team - but a proposition of a day off wasn't bad at all. He still needed to unpack his things and get around his new place.

Bakugou was still sitting at the table, staring at his copy of signed contract with detached expression.

The tension in the air was unpleasant. Kirishima thought it was a good time to leave as well. He hoped to meet someone from his old place on his way through the building.

"I'm looking forward to working with you," he said politely to mark the end of this encounter.

 Bakugou startled, snapping out of staring contest with his contract, and looked up at Kirishima. He frowned, narrowed eyes hostile and disbelieving.

 "Cut the bullshit," he spat out as if he was calling out him on lying.

 Kirishima crossed his arms, feeling old grudges flaring up in him, something he wished to bury deeper, thinking that he was a better person than that.

 "I /am/ looking forward to working together, but I'm not going to tolerate your outbursts if they sabotage it," he said sternly. It's been years, and he was still kinda tired of that, to be honest.

 Bakugou blinked and looked away shortly, which seemed odd. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable to untrained eye, but he backed off.

 Feeling satisfied for no obvious reason, Kirishima got up and left.

 Things were promising to get complicated.