#heiping

[bean-in-dice]

Non Pingxie Chinese Fic Recs

Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

.

1. Heihua and Xilaimian's couple therapy.

【黑花】金牌调解

2. Another excellent series of Wu Xie observing Heihua

【黑花】北京流水账

3. Su Wan on Shahai era Heihua

【黑花】归雪

4. Heihua, breaking up, making up and birthdays

【黑花】潮汐

5. Wu Xie pov where Heihua turn into babies

【黑花】雨村流水账 Chapter 4: 花有��开日

6. Heihua Good Omens au

【黑花】战争启示录

7. This is a Pingxie fic with a lot of Cuxie where it dwells on Li Cu's one sided affection, followed by Pingxie getting together.

I don't normally read Cuxie but really loved this one.

【瓶邪】此时此刻

8. Brilliant, heart breakingly beautiful oneshot where Wu Xie decides to get a vasectomy because... yeah. Contains some HuaXie and some more with female characters, no Pingxie. I highly rec this fic tho

太子

9. Huaxie in the era where Wu Xie was snake venoming and drinking sprite by himself. E-rated, from Xiaohua 2nd person pov.

【花邪】黑盒·其一

10. Zhang Haike/Zhang Qiling, back when Zhang Qiling first started working as the patriarch.

【客瓶】《他那时爱吃，张海客一直记到现在》

11. Heihua seaside vacation au where rich businessman Xiaohua meets lifeguard/tourist guide and other odd-jobby Xiazi. Fun read with very witty banter.

【黑花】海螺先生

12. Wu Xie on shaving his head

【瓶邪】头发

13. Wu Xie on Xiaoge's hood

【瓶邪】瓶盖

14. At Golmud, ZQL is the warden, Wu Xie is a psychiatry professor, Xiazi is the Dean, Li Cu the kid Wu Xie plans adopt after marriage, and Su Wan the new intern. Su Wan pov from the moment he arrives at the sanatorium to slowly uncovering the mysteries underneath its perfect facade. A quick, amazing read full of suspense and witty humor, contains confirmed offscreen Pingxie, offscreen Huaxie backstory and suggested Heixie.

【黑邪/ALL邪】格尔木疯人院

15. An amazing Xiazi pov Heixie, with introspection and character study after Xiazi went fully blind in Ghost Banquet, how he tries to readjust himself in the world and his deep love and care for Wu Xie

今世

16. XiuHuaHeiXiePang have a meal together. Yes you read that right.

【黑邪/花秀】不應有恨

17. A 3rd person pov from a gay stranger who gets acquainted with Wu Xie in his Guan Gen era, and his observations of Wu Xie and later, Pingxie. Full of admiration, slight hero worship but also grounded realism.

【瓶邪】你有没有见过他

18. HeiPingXie extremely E Dom/Sub fic, very sweet and lovely despite the intensity

【黑瓶邪】絨布收納盒

19. By the same writer, SFW gentle HeiXie

【黑邪】我發誓一點都不想你

20. A very interesting take on what might possibly happen to Xiazi after the still unfinished novel Ghost Banquet

[瓶黑] 《如是我闻》

.

See here for Pingxie fic recs

[fixaidea]

Like 70% of Heiping fic on AO3 (including some of the best) are set on Anonymous.

Anon I respect your privacy but if you're out there somewhere, just know I love you, you're doing the Lord's work. T.T

[dual-domination]

@sagittariusdarkarrow ARJUNNNNNNNNNN LOOK HERE

Hei Xiazi found this random hobby of just feeding Xiaoge at random times while in tombs.

Xiaoge sort of just takes the food cuz why not, it’s free.

[copper-coin3pers0nn]

watery x Bingo all yaou😍😍

that’s so skibidi

I love wtaery and bingo ball

tehe

Okay bye

[dual-domination]

For the made up fic title: The Geese

Xiazi and Xiaoge were lost in the forest. Everything they found for days was poisonous there, supposed fruits, weird animals, killer fungi (don't ask me how the air itself didn't cause poisoning in such an environment). They found nothing edible for a long time. When they finally escaped the forest and reached open fields, all they wanted most (before a nap) was to eat. In the field, they encountered a wild goose, and Xiazi could already taste the goose roasted on the fire. While Xiaoge was making the fire, Xiazi chased after the goose, only to discover that it had a wife and half a dozen goslings. With his mind made up, he turned back to Xiaoge, "We'll have to find something else to eat." "Did you fail?" "Take a good look at me, Yaba. Do I look like a home wrecker?!" Not knowing what it was about and with his stomach growling with hunger, Xiaoge nodded.

[weldnas]

-

[grapecaseschoices]

Are there any games with demos and finished games that you reccomend?

Off the bat: The Exile [blog @/exilethegame], Infamous [blog @/infamous-if], Fallen Hero: Rebirth & Retribution

Others off the top of my head: The Our Life Series [I haven't done Baxter or Derek's DLCs but they seem as loved as Cove's; and ofc I am excited for Now and Forever]; I flip flop on which I like more Disenchanted or Reaper's Bay, so have both; Well I really liked the Decoy's demo -- the writing style clicks with my brain and I am a sucker for sibling dynamics; I haven't played the finished products YET but The Golden Rose and A Mage Reborn --loooooved their demos. I'm just starting to get too tired to link, but they're on COG/Hosted Games.

I suppose I recommend TWC -- the same way I would recommend season 1 of Merlin or Teen Wolf. The Wayhaven Chronicles and I, we're the Mikaelson siblings of The Originals -- the Lannisters of GOT; in the whole convoluted we stab each other but there is some form of love there. It is Tywin and I am Tyrion /I am also highly dramatic about a vampire dating sims game.

oh, and there is Bloomic Panic too.

[zerozivan]

Heipe goes for a cannonball in the snow!

[astranauticus]

i feel like i do not have nearly enough knowledge of dmbj lore to make this post but also the thought of a dmbj/orv crossover has been haunting me for ages bc zhang qiling and yoo joonghyuk have very similar themes of like identity/personhood/memory going on and wu xie and kim dokja are very similar degrees of. protagonist (extremely derogatory)

[doodlespheresys]

heip

[bean-in-dice]

Non Pingxie Chinese Fic Recs

Part 2

Part 1, Part 3

.

1. Heihua fic where Xiaohua works overtime and Xiazi tries to get him to talk about stress and relax.

【黑花】变成猫咪就可以尽情害怕

2. Xiazi talks to Wu Xie about the difficulties of raising flowers and cats, and Wu Xie is as dumb as always

【黑花】养花不养猫

3. Li Cu on Shahai era Wu Xie (and about what he's heard about Zhang Qiling)

【瓶邪】摩挲。

4. Li Cu and Su Wan get lost and Wu Xie gets called by police.

【瓶邪】苏万说我好大了，我二十了（上）

5. Heihua snowball fight

【黑花】一个脑洞

6. A short and sweet Heixie in training era

领如蝤蛴

7. Huaxie hang out in one of Xiaohua's remote places

Instant Noodles & Cigarettes

8. (Same author. Highly rec everything by them) Shahi era Heixie.... I don't know how to describe this. You have to read it.

狗牌

9. I dunno why but don't usually like actor aus (maybe because they kind of give an RPF vibe without being rpf? Idk) but I enjoyed this Actor!Xiazi and Scripwriter!Wu Xie story

【邪黑】潜规则（正文+番外）

10. Cute and short Racoon!Xiazi and Kitty!Xiaohua au

【黑花】A Fair Tale

11. Huaxie marry off meimei

【盗笔|秀花邪】我们仨

12. Huaxie hangout at a bar after work

【盗笔|花邪】布鲁斯之夜

13. Huaxie in a world that NASA predicted will end in 30 years. An amazing read.

【盗笔|花邪】如果一生只有三十岁 大纲

14. Huaxie in a world where all romantic pairings are decided and enforced by a system.

【盗笔|花邪】第1001次重逢

15. Xiaohua hears a rumor that Xiazi is impotent

众所周知，黑瞎子是个阳痿

16. Heihua soulmate au

解雨臣四次嫌弃他的灵魂伴侣，一次他认命了

17. Heihua being wholesome fucked up weirdos (what's new). No dolphins were harmed in the making of this fic (I think).

鱼丸粗面

18. The only two Pangxie Chinese fics I was able to find :(

【胖邪】走了

【胖邪】一辈子都可以

19. Epistolary HeiXie

【邪黑】致吾友

20. HuaXie, Wu Xie gets to see what it's like when Xiaohua is drunk. It's Explicit and idk why it's labelled All Xie, it's not

All邪娱乐圈——流欢17

.

See here for Pingxie fic recs

[fixaidea]

Best of HeiPing - AO3 edition

As requested by @meluci-fer based on the Totally Objective and Very Correct Opinion of Tumblr user Fixaidea (with the occasional guest appearance by Wu Xie as part of a V-shaped poly setup).

Caring for Your Zhang Qiling: A Practical Guide by Anonymous - Glasses saves A-Kun before Grandpa Chen finds him. Bittersweet and lovely.

A Moment to Breathe by Anonymous - Glasses and Xiaoge relax after robbing a tomb, a cute and fluffy oneshot.

Message Received by MountainRose - This one is a smutty oneshot. It's from Glasses' POV and his cheeky humour carries through the whole narration. It's as cute and funny as it is hot.

Solitude by Anonymous - 'The thing about loving Yaba was that it was supposed to be safe.' Yeah, this one hurts. :)

end this night by Anonymous - 'Yaba was crying' This one is lovely and bittersweet.

Aftermath by Boketto_cafune - This one is not so much smut, but (as the title suggests) the aftermath of thereof. Very soft and gentle (ft. Wu Xie).

[suomiplorpoturnaus]

Tulipa äänestettyä paljon kirkkovenettä tällä kierroksella. En selkeesti tunne Suomen miukumaukuja kovin perusteellisesti.

Heips! Luulenpa, että monilla on ollut tässä kisassa samankaltainen tilanne. Kun puhutaan mirrirukkasista, puhutaan varmasti helpommin sivuhahmoista tai muuten vähemmän tunnetuista hahmoista. Olen itse ollut ihan ratketa innostuksesta seuratessani, kuinka erilaisista fandomeista tähän turnaukseen on tullut miukumaukuja. Suurta osaa en tunne itse, ja siksi on myös ihanaa, kuinka sydämestä monet ovat kirjoittaneet propagandansa missemässy mössöselleen – olen monien hahmojen puolella ihan vain siksi, kuinka paljon heitä selvästi rakastetaan!

Otan tän sun kysymyksen mahdollisuutena suositella kaikille seuraajille hiukan netistä ilmaiseksi löytyviä mössölähteitä, joista on mukana hahmoja tässä kisassa (lähinnä Yle Areenaa, terkkuja hallitukselle, me rahvas oikeestaan ihan tykätään, kun verorahoilla tehdään miukumaukumateriaalia). En voi kuitenkaan suositella muita, kuin sellaisia fandomeja, jotka itse tunnen ja joista pidän, joten suositelkaa ihmeessä lisää vaikka rebloggauksissa tai äänestyspostauksissa!

Jos kaipaat hauskaa elokuvailtaa ja haluat selvittää, kuka ihme Jimi on, on Pitkä kuuma kesä perin mainio elokuva. Samaan sarjaan menee sivumennen sanoen Helmiä ja sikoja, vaikka kukaan ei herra Homoa ilmoittanutkaan kisaan.

Jos turnaukseen ilmoitettu misseparkapariskunta Maria Pudas ja Essi Kangas jäivät kiinnostelemaan sinua, Pohjoisen tähti on allekirjoittaneen mielestä liikaa liioittelematta viimeisimpien vuosikymmenten paras suomalainen rikossarja. Väittäisin tämän olevan rikossarja myös ihmisille, jotka eivät normaalisti pidä rikossarjoista. Viikon tapauksena ei ehkä olekaan murha, vaan vaikkapa huligaanikulinaristi, joka terrorisoi ravintoloita syömällä hyvin ja jättämällä laskun maksamatta. Syyttäjä ei ole viileä oikeuden puolustaja, vaan nököttää pilkillä kisupipossa. Päähenkilö ei ole eronnut ja alkoholisoitunut heteromies, vaan suurperheyhteisössä selviytyvä ex-(?)nyrkkeilijä.

Jos olet tummasävyisempien rikossarjojen ystävä, en ole itse katsonut Karppia, mutta olen kuullut siitä niin paljon hyvää, että mainitsen senkin. Karpinkin tallista kilvoittelussamme on kaksi osallistujaa, itse Sofia Karppi ja Sakari Nurmi.

Jos rikossarjat ovat kalastelussasi yhtä tehottomia, kuin se kissapipoinen syyttäjä pilkillä, ja haluaisit tietää, kuka ihme Mari Vallas on ja miksi hän näyttää itkuiselta tiskirätiltä, Rakkaat lapset on komediasarja, jonka huumori saisi tuntua joskus vähän vähemmän henkilökohtaiselta hyökkäykseltä, terveisin erään perheen ainoa tytär. Ei mutta, tätä katsoessa on helppo nauraa ns. pää irti.

Vai kaipaatko ehkä mieluummin aivan järkyttävän hirveää huumoria pikkuisina puraisuina vaikka lenkillä tai tiskatessa kuunneltavaksi? Älä kaipaa enää. Radio Sodoma on Antti Holman podcast-vauvoista se riivattu ja ruma lapsi, joka kähisee demonisella äänellään isosetäsi mussuttavan kullia Kadotuksessa. Tuonelan virran laineilla seilaavat Kalevi Tuoninen, Risto-täti, monet muut, ja itse Saatana.

Viimeisinä Yle-nostoina, Tuntemattomalla sotilaalla on luonnollisesti edustuksensa tässäkin turnauksessa, eikä ihme, onhan kyse yhdestä Suomen elinvoimaisimmista fanikunnista. Miukumaukuturnauksessa Tuntematonta edustavat Riitaoja, Lehto ja Lammio. Jos haluat ns. "vajota suohon" ja haluaisit kokea kirjan hauskalla ja kiinnostavalla tavalla, Tuntematon sotilas -lukumaraton on yhä katsottavissa ja kuunneltavissa Areenassa. Ota vastaan Jumalan myrsky. Ja terkkuja kaikille, jotka notkuivat maratonin aikaan Ylen chätissä, oli vuoden 2024 tähtihetkiä. Lisäksi Areenassa on yhä Louhimiehen Tuntematon sotilas -sarja, josta henkilökohtaisesti en pidä, mutta monet pitävät ja siinä on Severi Saarisen Lehto, joka on minun sydämeni rääpäle misse miu mau. Hienostuneeseen ja kummalliseen makuun omanlaisensa Tuntematon-tulkinta on YouTubesta löytyvä Kansallisteatterin Tuntematon sotilas, joka on omasta mielestäni aivan mainio. #otp; laittakaa se hyasintti takaisin sinne ikkunalaudalle

Ai niin, ja jos olet miettinyt, miksi ihmeessä tässä äänestyksessä on Naruto-hahmoja... Vilkaisepa YouTubesta Nortikka. Mukana Kakashi, Jatek, 80R15 ja tietysti meille kaikille liian cool Mallu. Jos olet riittävän nuori ja säästyit siksi Nortikalta, tää oli meiän vanhusten Succession tai Severance tai mitä näitä on, siksi meistä tuli tämmösiä. Onko missään edes niitä Nortikan alkuperäisiä jaksoja? Siinä vasta sarja. Oi nostalgia.

Suositelkaa toki omien miukumaukujenne lähtökohtia! Saatatte saada heille uusia kannattajia.

[lilacnothlit]

Tobias getting stuck in baby morph may be my favorite implication of this chart. (Even better if the baby can fIy.)

one difference between the undersiders and the animorphs is that the undersider height chart is "average undersider is not absurdly tall. Height Georgs brian laborn and taylor hebert were outliers and should not have been counted" and the animorph heart chart is "average animorph is not absurdly short. Lack Of Height Georgs cassie and marco were outliers and should not have been counted"

[monkeyislandtwo]

hey guys f0r the I0ve 0f g0d pIease heIp me. my O and L keys have st0pped w0rking

[lillaluna]

back door ch.1

Pairing: Wriothesley x f!Reader

Summary: will he heip you find your way out or will he destroy you to the end?

Tags: modern au, heavy family relationships, references to beatings and physical violence, references to blood, deviations from canon, relationship hints, romance, dramma, everyday life, hurt\comfort, deth of minor characters

Heavily slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, Wriothesley leaned his hand against the loose wall. He looked down at his battered knuckles and smirked. The last fight had been surprisingly easy on him in terms of technique, but even through the sports bandages, his knuckles had hurt and were now slightly baked. But it was a small thing, because the pocket of his black trousers was warmed by the cash, which was much more than for the last fight.

Wriothesley looked at himself in the dirty mirror that hung on the wall of the room that was called the locker room, but in fact it was just a room, with an old bunk, a rickety chair and a sink with a dirty mirror.

The boy's face was lit only by a dim yellowish light, which made the black eye and busted lip look worse than it really was. Wriothesley ruffled his dark, grey hair with a healthy hand, smirked at his reflection in the mirror, and left the room, which greeted him with the creak of the door.

Stepping out into the fresh night air, the guy shoved his hands into the pockets of his lightweight jacket. The weather was abominable, and judging by the fact that there were puddles on the ground, it had recently rained. Its last drops still glistened on the asphalt, creating mirror-like reflections of the streetlights.

As usual after a fight, Wriothesley began to think that he was lucky for the time being and that he should quit underground fighting as soon as possible. But it seemed like he was about to save up enough money to get out of this small, musty town, but every time that "about time" slipped through his fingers and Wriothesley went into the cage on Sunday for the umpteenth time, risking everything. But there was also a different fear from that of his enemies in the ring. He was afraid of losing himself in indifference. To become a monster, unable to feel joy, tenderness, love. His fighting spirit, his frantic thirst for victory, began to permeate every cell of his being, breaking down the lines between a winner and a regular guy.

He stayed there, standing on the edge between the destruction of a crushed opponent and himself, between light and dark. In his soul, the typhoon seemed to warp reality, cutting him off from communicating with the rest of the world, pulling him into his own abyss.

…

You ran down the street, panting. Your quick steps were lost in the deserted space, and the streetlights flickering overhead were like fireflies telling you where to go. Your lungs burned, but you couldn't stop, not now that you'd dared to run, when you had the chance. Your eyes filled with tears that rolled down your cheeks, seemingly against your will and you couldn't even explain why. Was it resentment at your stepfather for beating you? At your mother for not protecting you? From happiness that you would never come back to this house you called your own again? But salty drops rolled from your eyes in hail, covering your vision with a veil.

Your side stabbed, and you stopped, breathing hard. With your hands on your knees, you gulped for air, glancing around warily and straining to hear. You were like a hunted animal, ready to bolt at any moment.

The air was soaked with the scents of your surroundings, becoming more and more stifling. The smells of rubbish bins, mustiness and dampness wafted in. It all blended into one foul-smelling mass that haunted you like an insistent ghost.

Somewhere in the distance you heard the howling of police sirens, and you levelled yourself and held your breath, staring into the distance, trying to understand where the sound was coming from. It was unclear, but you didn't need to, you were already off and running, hoping to put the past behind you.

The unfamiliar streets changed one after another, not that you were watching where you were running, but even so you knew it was a completely unfamiliar neighbourhood.

The sounds of sirens drove you forward, adrenaline fuelling your heart rate and making you run faster and faster. You turned back while your legs carried you forward, and the moment you wanted to turn around, you crashed.

At first you felt like you hit a wall, but considering you didn't smash your forehead or break your nose, it was something much softer, but dense enough.

And then the 'wall' spoke.

"Hey, watch out…" A gruff male voice sharply bellowed.

You sitting on the pavement rubbed the spot on your face that you had hit the guy with, then looked up at him with a startled look. You blinked confusedly, like a doe in the headlight looking up at the figure far above you.

Wriothesley was standing at his bike, half-turned toward you, holding his black motorbike helmet in his hands, apparently ready to put it on, just until you slammed into him. His scowl and sharp look immediately softened as he realised who had made the attempt to knock him down.

Looking down at you, almost sitting in a puddle on the pavement, the guy stomped uncertainly from foot to foot. You were breathing heavily, staring unwaveringly at the guy in front of you. Worst-case scenarios were forming in your head despite the fact that despite his looks the guy didn't look like someone who could hurt you. Especially now that his gaze was noticeably softer.

Wriothesley silently put his helmet on the motorbike and bent over, silently offering you his hand. After a second's hesitation, you hesitantly reached out your wet palm toward the guy, and felt the gentle touch of his massive palm, which gripped yours tightly. Pulling you towards him, the guy almost brought you to your feet in one motion.

"You okay?" Wriothesley asked, looking at you carefully with his piercing blue eyes. His gaze lingered on the scar on your upper lip, then slid over the bruise that had just begun to fade, spreading from temple to eye. The boy returned to your frightened eyes, tactfully not mentioning the beating.

You wiped your palms of sweat and dirt on the back pockets of your jeans and shook your hair out of habit to at least hide a little of what your stepfather had adorned your face with.

"Fine," you muttered to yourself and in the silence that ensued, your stomach rumbled shrilly. You couldn't really remember the last time you'd eaten. I think it was… Friday? You'd visited a friend, where she'd treated you to pizza.

"Hungry?" Wriothesley cast a questioning look at you, picking up his helmet again. He had no intention of lingering any longer than this ridiculous situation demanded.

"No," you lied, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your stomach made a shrill sound again, actively protesting your lie. You awkwardly averted your eyes, away from the tall, and not to be hidden, handsome guy who was smirking.

"Suit yourself," Wriothesley shrugged, "I was going to take you to a roadside diner, but it's far enough away, but they make some great chops I'd sell my soul for," he tossed his head back dreamily, covering his eyes and smiling at the night sky, but then returned to his original position, "but I don't insist."

At the mere mention of food, your mouth filled with saliva, and you felt with every fibre of your soul that your stomach was about to explode with noise if you thought of refusing the invitation. Plus, the guy had mentioned that the place where you'd be eating was far enough away, which was exactly what you needed.

"You're not a serial killer, are you?" you raised an eyebrow and squinted your eyes.

"Depending on how many people you have to kill to be a serial?" the guy spoke with a frown on his eyebrows, giving his face as serious a look as possible. He was already pulling out a spare helmet before holding it out to you.

"Five times?" you surmised, accepting the item from the stranger's hands.

"Oh, no then," Wriothesley smiled a charming smile, after which he pulled on his helmet. You almost smiled, but quickly restrained yourself from the idea, after all that wasn't why you were here. Since that was the circumstances you could eat and get away, flirting didn't fit into that plan.

You put on your helmet, to which Wriothesley shook his head disapprovingly. He took a small step towards you, keeping his distance. His hands reached for the strap, which appeared to need tightening to make the helmet fit snugly on your head. Rough and strong, the guy's hands seemed almost made for destruction, but surprisingly Wriothesley's fingers, deftly and gently made a couple of quick manipulations tightening the strap just right. His every movement was precise and extremely careful not to damage anything. Your gaze caught a glimpse of battered knuckles with fresh bruises.

Not at all like a gentleman, Wriothesley acted purely masculine, offering you his hand and taking you onto his bike before getting on it himself.

"Hold on to me tight," the guy commanded as he put the key in the ignition.

In defiance, you moved further away from your unexpected driver. Then Wriothesley himself found your hands behind his back and put them around his waist.

"Hold on, I wasn't planning on scraping anyone off the pavement today."

After those words, only afterwards did you realise how much of a terrible and reckless venture this was.

…

As the waitress put the dishes you and Wriothesley had ordered earlier on the table, she glanced frowningly at you and the massive figure of the guy sitting on the other side of the table. You almost chuckled loudly, imagining what you looked like from the outside. A huge, compared to you guy with bloody knuckles and an obviously smashed face, and you, with a large bruise on the right side of your face.

"Is that it?" A full-bodied, stocky woman asked, placing a glass of juice in front of you.

Wriothesley threw you a questioning look, which you willfully ignored, waiting for you to start eating. Nodding to the woman the guy picked up the utensils and moved closer to the table.

A few minutes passed in silence. The space around you was filled with the sounds of the kitchen, the muffled singing of the radio, the occasional chatter of people sitting around you and the clinking of utensils on plates.

"Well," Wriothesley said, leaning back on the soft surface of the worn sofa. The boy watched intently as you happily devoured the chop you'd brought, which, by the way, tasted truly divine. "What would make such a young person go with a strange guy, not the most disposable looking, to the outskirts of town to eat at a roadside diner?"

You stopped chewing abruptly, almost choking on the meat that was still in your mouth. You sucked in air noisily through your nose, and with a loud clinking sound, you put the cutlery down on the white plate, which was smeared with the remnants of ketchup.

"Nothing," you snapped back sharply, taking your gaze away from the piercing eyes of the guy across from you, who was nonchalantly sipping the tea you'd just brought.

"Hmm," Wriothesley stretched out deep in thought, raising his bushy eyebrows, "let it be nothing, it's none of my business after all. And I think if I'd asked you what was wrong with your face, you'd have said you'd fallen."

"Yes," you said simply, throwing your hair forward deliberately, trying to hide your bruise.

Seeing how nervous you were, so as not to embarrass you any further Risley turned away to the large window that overlooked the road and was on the guy's left hand.

"Eat," Wriothesley commanded.

You would have liked to protest now, to throw the utensils away and defiantly refuse to eat, but you realised that you were in the wrong position now, and there was no telling when you would next be able to eat properly. So, a moment later, you took up your meal.

…

Standing on the porch of a roadside café you turned around for the tinkle of a bell, which jingled softly as Wriothesley stepped outside. He was walking towards you carrying a small box in front of him and as he neared you, the guy held it out to you.

"What's this?" You asked, looking sceptically at what the guy was holding out to you.

"It's a pie," Wriothesley replied simply, but with a smile, "thought you should try it." And after saying that, the guy forcefully shoved the box into your hesitantly unclenched fingers, and then went to his bike.

"Why are you doing this?" you blurted out, staring at Wriothesley 's broad back, covered in a leather jacket.

The guy was fiddling with something by his bike when he turned to you in surprise and gave you a strange look, examining you from head to toe. Turning back around, Wriothesley silently threw one of his legs over the bike and removed the footrest that the bike was leaning on so he wouldn't fall over. For a moment you thought you weren't going to get an answer, but the guy spoke up:

"I've been in tough situations," the guy put the key in the ignition, "but my advice to you is don't trust people just like that, they may have very different intentions."

The guy took his helmet and put it on his head before turning the key and the motorbike came to life, filling the quiet night street with noise.

"Thank you," you said loudly, trying to shout over the noise of the running engine, "for the pie," you shook the box you were holding, trying to squeeze out a pathetic semblance of a smile.

Because of the noise of the motorbike and the helmet, you couldn't make out the sound Wriothesley made, but from the slight shake of his shoulders and the way he shook his head from side to side, you assumed it was a chuckle.

Wriothesley stalled the bike again and took off his helmet.

"Do you have somewhere to go today?" The guy asked.

"I'll figure it out," you said, a little too playfully cheerful, "I've got this," you twirled the pie box in your hands again and twitched your eyebrows meaningfully. In truth, you didn't even have a rough plan of action and fear was spreading inside you. Your dream of leaving your home had come true, but as it turned out, you were completely unprepared for it.

"Sit down," the guy commanded, patting the seat behind you with his large palm.

You blinked in surprise and frowned.

"You just said not to trust people," you repeated, Wriothesley's words.

"Oh, sure, you can distrust me and stay in this lovely place. I think one of the helpful truckers will be sure to help you out," and without further hesitation, Wriothesley slipped his helmet on, preparing to turn the key in the ignition.

When you realised it, you took a quick step towards the bike, and a moment later you clumsily jumped on it, this time wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's waist more tightly.

…

As soon as you entered Wriothesley's flat, you had an immediate sense of comfort and ease. The studio flat of a typical bachelor is a small but cosy space where every detail reflects his personality and lifestyle. There were posters of bikes and bike parts hanging on one wall, fingerless biker gloves on a small table near the entrance and a worn helmet on the floor below that had clearly been in an accident.

The main room, which was the living room and bedroom at the same time, had an atmosphere of relaxation and freedom. A modern, large-screen TV took centre stage on the wall, with a PS 5 resting underneath. A comfortable sofa invited you to relax.

Noticing you looking round the room Wriothesley said:

"The curtains better not be open," the guy glanced sadly at the spot where in all likelihood there should have been a window, "the view is awful."

"It can't be worse than what I've seen every day," she mumbled peering into the small kitchen. You weren't at all surprised to see there, a mountain of dirty dishes, and a few fast food boxes that stood on the table.

"Here," you heard behind you and turned around. The guy stood holding out what appeared to be his own black t-shirt to you, "you can change in the bathroom," Wriothesley pointed to a room you hadn't even noticed initially.

You took the t-shirt from Wriothesley and went into the bathroom. It was small and narrow, but clean and tidy. After changing quickly you went out into the living room. Wriothesley was sitting on the sofa staring at the TV, he turned to you as soon as you spoke.

"Thanks," you said, "I feel much better."

The guy nodded and leaned back on the back of the couch and covered his eyes. You tightened your lips as you looked around the room, shifting from heel to toe in indecision. Biting the inside of your cheek, you softly treaded the cool floor with your bare feet and moved towards the boy.

Wriothesley sat in silence with his legs spread wide. From the outside you might have thought he was dozing. His chest rose and fell with his breathing, and his manly face remained impenetrable and peaceful.

You slowly approached the guy who was sprawled serenely on the couch. Your heart was beating hot rhythms, doubt and indecision enveloped your thoughts. Finally, you made up your mind and sat down on his attractive thighs, resting your palms on Wriothesley's firm breasts, the relief of which could be easily felt through the thin fabric of the burgundy longsleeve. A moment, full of tension, hung in the air as you leaned forward awkwardly, aiming for the guy's neck, emitting a pleasant and seductive male scent. Your breath shook and trembled as you touched your lips to Wriothesley's skin boldly kissing him.

He, feeling pleasantly confused, spoke in an unexpectedly soft voice without moving or opening his eyes.

"What exactly are you doing right now?"

You moved away from the guy's neck, and sat up straight dropping your gaze to your hands, which you rubbed your fingers with in embarrassment. Wriothesley returned his head to its normal position, he looked at you with an expressionless stare waiting for your answer.

"I… I…" you mumbled, picking at your fingernail, "I have nothing to repay you for your kindness except… Well, except," you sighed hesitantly raising your gaze to the ice-coloured eyes that were studying you, "well, you know."

"Thank you, that was enough," Wriothesley replied tilting his head to the side. He frowned, and then jerked forwards, and you almost fell backwards away from him, but Wriothesley swiftly picked you up under the armpits and set you on the floor as if you weighed nothing. "You can take my bed," the guy nodded towards the large, and seemingly soft bed.

"I'm not comfortable…" You started, but the guy shook his head.

"I often get insomnia," Wriothesley explained, "and the TV lulls me to sleep quite well, I don't use the bed much for sleeping."

"Oh…" You said grimacing and casting a wary glance at the bed.

"God," Wriothesley rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, "I wasn't talking about what you were thinking, I…", but after a half-word, the boy exhaled tiredly, "I've had a hell of a day and a hell of an evening, so lie on the floor, I don't care, I'm taking the couch."

With those words Wriothesley walked around you and made his way to the bathroom, from where the sound of the shower running could be heard a few minutes later. You took another look around the guy's small but cosy flat. And it clicked in your head how much had happened tonight and how you'd ended up here. Fed, clean, wearing a stranger's nice-smelling T-shirt that reached almost to your knees, and you were going to spend the night in a soft, big bed, in which you would be alone! Where did you get your karma so cleansed that you were so lucky? Even if it was just for one night.

You almost jumped on the spot, clenching your fists and opening your mouth in a silent squeal of joy, shaking your head a few times, then glancing around warily to see if Wriothesley had noticed. But the water in the bathroom continued to rumble, and with that accompaniment you walked towards the bed.

…

You were mindlessly flipping through the news feed on your phone, completely immersed in the virtual world. Completely confused in your thoughts and absorbing every line, you did not notice anything around you.

Opening the door of the cramped bathroom, a tall and exceptionally athletic guy in only black boxers walked into the living room. Visibly trim, with an engaging physique, Wriothesley walked over to the wardrobe. Of course you couldn't help but pay attention to what was happening right in front of you, and as the guy got ready for bed, you studied his body from a distance.

The scars. How many were there. You were creepily curious about where they came from, but you couldn't afford to ask about anything in person, despite the fact that technically, you were now lying in Wriothesley 's bed.

He was silently getting ready for bed, ready to fall asleep on the cosy couch. The determination was readable on the guy's face, in his eyes, in every muscle tense from being trained. You couldn't take your eyes off this manly sight, watching Wriothesley 's every move with a sense of awe.

"I'll charge you," the guy said with a cheerful note, tossing a pillow, and a blanket onto the couch.

"What?" You asked, coming out of your trance.

"If you keep staring like that, I'm going to charge you for such a barbaric use of my gorgeous body."

You opened your mouth silently, not knowing how to respond to this ridiculous accusation. Did you really stare that hard?

Wriothesley smirked at your reaction, and noisily collapsed onto the couch, making himself comfortable. After a moment, he switched on the TV and turned the sound as quietly as possible, so he could hear you without disturbing you. You put the phone away, and seemed to fall asleep almost immediately.