Oh Ri On Quotes

Momiji Sohma: Are you sure? Shigure said it hurt really bad. Hatori Sohma: Yes, well, I did that on purpose. Shigure Sohma: Oh, Ha'ri, you're killing me! Why would you be so cruel? Hatori Sohma: It seemed to be the only way to shut you up at the time.

and as they walked along he sang "Tol-de-ri-de-oh!" at every step, he felt so gay.

You’re thinking about her breasts now, aren’t you? Ziv’ri asked. Ava grinned. Yes, he is, she answered telepathically. Jak’ri gasped. Oh ho! Ziv’ri crowed on a laugh. You’ve made my brother blush, Ava. I haven’t seen his face this red since Mother caught him— Do not finish that sentence! Jak’ri ordered.

Tol-de-ri-de-oh!” at

Tol-de-ri-de-oh!

You keep saying you instead of we.” Jak’ri closed the incinerator. A whoosh sounded. “I’m not coming with you.” She stared up at him. “What?” “I’m staying here. Keep me apprised of everything telepathically as you go. If you run into any trouble, I’ll start blasting things in here, then run and draw their fire.” “Oh, hell no!” she blurted. “We leave together or we don’t leave at all.” “Ava, you have a much higher chance of escaping if I keep them distracted long enough to—” Closing the distance between them, she rose onto her toes, curled her free hand around the nape of his neck, and pressed a fervent kiss to his lips. Startled into silence, he stared down at her. “I’m not going without you, Jak’ri. I won’t let you sacrifice yourself for me. We either escape together or we die together. Those are your two options. Time is ticking. What’s it going to be?

He drew his fingers down over her collarbones drifting closer to her breasts. “The muscles here on our women are often as developed as ours.” Judging by the heated look in his eyes, he didn’t mind at all that she had breasts instead of muscular pecs. “And here.” Her pulse picked up as he cupped her breasts. “You’re rounder here. Softer. Fuller.” He squeezed them gently and drew his thumbs across the hard, sensitive peaks. Ava sucked in a breath as sensation shot through her. “Do that again.” He brushed his thumbs across the tight buds again., toyed with them and gave an experimental pinch. Ava jerked and arched against him. “You’re sensitive here,” he murmured. “Yes.” His lips captured hers once more, tasting and tempting as he explored her breasts and ratcheted up her need. She and Jak’ri had been nearly bare with each other countless times in their dreams as they swam and cavorted in Rounaka Sea, but they had been out in the open and the dreams had felt so real that she would never have thought of doing her lustful inclinations there for fear of being discovered. Now, however, they were alone. They were free and the cave enclosing them might has well have been a Honeymoon suite at a secluded resort. So there was no reason for her to hold back. She moaned. Jak’ri certainly wasn’t holding back. The women of Purvel might not have breasts like hers, but he sure as hell knew what to do with them, teasing and tweaking and squeezing until she squirmed against him. Her breath shortening. “Jak’ri,” she whispered, tunneling the fingers of one hand through his thick hair while she slid the other down his back and rocked against the thick, hard ridge concealed by his pants. “I want you.” Nodding he trailed heated kisses down her neck. “I want you too.” One of his big hands left her breast and cupped her ass, grinding her against him. “Are you ready to release your eggs?” Sensation shot through her. “Hmmm?” “Are you ready to release your eggs so I can fertilize them?” he murmured, clutching her closer. Her eyes flew open. “Wait, what?” She leaned back. “I assume your reproduce the same way Purveli’s do,” he said, dragging his eyes up from her breasts to meet hers. “You release your eggs, then I fertilize them.” She stared at him, stunned. Release her eggs? Did he mean like a…like a fish? Her gaze shot to the barely discernable scales that coated his broad chest and handsome face. Did Purveli’s not have sex the way humans and Lasaran’s did? His lips twitched as his eyes danced with mirth. Relief filled her. “Oh my gosh,” laughing Ava shoved one of his shoulders. “You are so bad.” He laughed. “Apologies, I couldn’t resist. My scales seemed to fascinate you.

- Oh, Nastenjka, Nastenjka! Ju as që mund ta merrni me mend sa shumë po më ngazëlleni! Po më pajtoni me vetveten! Nuk kam për të menduar kurrë keq për veten, siç më ka ndodhur rëndomë më parë! Se ku i dihet, mua dhe brenga sfilitëse, që jam treguar armik i vetes, ndoshta do më daravitet! Se jo një herë ia kam nxitur vetes mendimin që jeta e jetuar ka qenë mëkatare dhe deri kriminale. Dhe mos pandehni që po i zmadhoj gjërat. Kam kaluar e jo pak çaste trishtimi të pangushëllueshëm!... Më ka rënduar si plumb në zemër vetëdija e pazotësisë për të jetuar me të tashmen, me realen; e kam katandisur veten deri në atë farë feje, sa e kam mallkuar fatin tim, e kam sikterisur veten... Se mua, Nastenjka, ja se ç'më ka ndodhur pas netëve të kaluar me fantazime: jam kthyer në realitet, ku gjërat shihen esëll. Gjendje e padurueshme! Sheh tollovinë njerëzore, sheh dhe dëgjon si pulson jeta, vë re që dhe jeta e të tjerëve nuk është e përsosur, e jetojnë ashtu si u vjen, kapen fort pas çdo të mire që kjo u ofron, e përballojnë, kur ju shtie me shkelma, vë re që përtërihen e mëkëmben pas fatkeqsive, deri dhe rilinden; habitesh që asnjë minutë e jetës nuk ngjason me të mëparshmet, ndërkohë që fantazimet janë mërzindjellëse në monotoninë e tyre, janë frikamane para pengesave, skllave të vegimeve dhe të hijeve, të ideve dhe të hamendjeve të nxehta, ato janë skllave të resë, që e mbulon befas diellin dhe e mbush me pikëllim zemrën e vërtetë petërburgase, e cila, ngaqë e çmon aq shumë ndaj dhe drithërohet po aq shumë, kur e sheh t'i fshihet. Se fantazia në pikëllim ngjizet e harbon! Mirëpo vjen një çast që e ndien si venitet, si kapitet e deri vdiret në tendosjen e saj të pandërprerë, pa të cilën s'ka si bën, e sheh këtë dhe bindesh që fantazimet nuk janë të pashtershme, pale që edhe vetë ti zë e burrërohesh, i braktis ëndërrimet dhe përsiatjet e dikurshme... Vjen një çast, që fantazia bëhet copë e çikë dhe, në mos paç tjetër jetë, s'ke nga ia mban, do s'do detyrohesh dhe sajon nga rrënojat, bashkon mbeturinat e së parës. E pra, shpirti të do një të re! Ëndërrimtari i gjorë më kot zë e rrëmon në hirin e fantazisë së shkrumuar, për të gjetur aty ndonjë kongjill të ndezur, që t'i fryjë e t'i fryjë, me shpresën mos ndizet zjarri i ri, ku të ngrohë zemrën e kallkanosur, dhe të rimëkëmbë atë që dikur ishte aq hamngjitëse dhe joshëse, që ia rrëmbente shpirtin dhe ia vlonte gjakun, ia rrëmbushte sytë, duke e mashtruar me aq marifet! Dhe e dini, Nastenjka, sa keq u katandisa? S'më mbeti tjetër veç të festoja përvjetorin e ndijimeve të para fantastike, të atyre që pandehja se i pata përjetuar, kurse në vërtetë nuk i pata përjetuar, sepse edhe vetë përvjetori si i tillë imagjinar ishte, pjellë fantazie qe. Iu drejtova përkujtimit, ngaqë më mungonin fantazi të reja, nuk kisha nga i shtrydhja! Se ëndërrimet shtrydhen, Nastenjka! Ma kishte fort ënda të vizitoja ato vende, që lidheshin me lumturinë time të dikurshme, ta përshtasja të tashmen në përputhje me të atëhershmen. U ënda në ato rrugë të zymta pa ndonjë synim apo qëllim real, të përcaktuar, u sorollata sa desha nëpër Petërburgun aspak gazmor dhe kujtova e kujtova sa u enjta të përjetuarat asohere. Shihja me sytë e mendjes si ecja i vetmuar në po atë trotuar, si më mbyste pikëllimi dhe angështia, i rënduar nga ato fantazime aq të lemerishme. Nuk them se atëherë isha në gjendje më të mirë shpirterore, ama më i qetë se tani isha. Atëherë jetohej më këndshëm, s'i kisha tërë ato mendime të zeza për të cilët sapo ju fola, por as këtë vrasje ndërgjegje që po provoj tani. Endesha në atë përvjetor dhe thosha me vetë: "Sa shpejt që fluturojnë vitet!" dhe pas gjithë kësaj, përsëri ajo pyetja brengë: "Po ti ç'je duke bërë, ndërkohe që vitet fluturojne? A po e jeton jetën? Se vitet ikin e shkojnë dhe të troket pleqeria, bashkë me të dhe pafuqia, po edhe lloj-lloj mënxyrash! Se bota e fantazisë një ditë prej ditësh do të vdiret, ëndërrimet do shuhen e fashiten, do bien në tokë si gjethet në vjeshtë!..." O Nastenjka! Sa

Jak’ri nodded toward the cliff’s edge. “Shall we?” “Not if you give me time to think about it.” He flashed his teeth in a boyish grin. “One-two-three, jump!” he called and took off running, pulling her after him. Ava’s eyes widened and her heart thudded hard in her chest as she ran alongside him. Their feet hit the edge at the same time, and together they leapt off. Jak’ri whooped as they plummeted toward the ocean, the sound so wonderfully carefree and appealing that Ava found herself grinning big even as she shrieked and squeezed the hell out of his hand. He hit the water a split second before her. Cool liquid closed over their heads. Bubbles surrounded them as if they’d just jumped into a vat of club soda. Then he looped an arm around her waist and propelled them both to the surface. “That was crazy!” she blurted, unable to stop smiling as she swiped water from her face. “Crazy but fun?” he quipped, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe,” she hedged. “But not as fun at this.” Propelling her upper body out of the water, she planted her hands atop his head and dunked him. As soon as she released him, she began a lazy backstroke. Jak’ri surfaced with a sputter and a laugh. When his silver eyes found her a few yards away, they acquired a devilish glint. “Oh, you’re going to regret that, little Earthling.” Ava shrieked when he dove for her. Rolling onto her stomach, she took off, swimming in earnest. Jak’ri’s fingers closed around one of her ankles. “Caught you!” She swam harder, getting absolutely nowhere, breaking into giggles as he issued dire threats in a villainous voice. When was the last time she had honest-to-goodness giggled? She yelped when he gave her ankle a yank. Then she was in his arms and he was grinning wickedly at her. “Think you can get the best of me, do you?” he taunted. Tucking his hands under her arms, he kicked his feet. Ava laughed as he tossed her up out of the water. Through the air she flew, landing on her back several yards away. The water again closed over her head. When she surfaced, she quickly bent her head to hide her smile and rubbed her eyes. “Hang on a sec,” she mumbled. Jak’ri immediately stopped laughing and swam toward her. “I’m sorry. Did you get something in your eye?” “No.” She grinned at him. “I just needed to lure you closer.” Then she swept her arm through the water in front of him, sending a cascade over his head. Sputtering, Jak’ri dove for her. Laughter abounded as they played, even more so when he started sharing tales of his exploits with his brother. Clunk. Ava jerked awake. Damn it! She really hated to wake up. She and Jak’ri had been romping and playing like children. Having to come back to the reality of this cell and the assholes who’d put her in it sucked.

Resting her head on her bent arm, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on something else. Like getting the hell out of here. I’m not going to urinate in my canteen. I have to drink out of that. She smiled when Jak’ri’s disgruntled voice came to her. She was too tired to block other people’s thoughts. And the Gathendiens all dosed themselves with some herb to keep their minds private. So Jak’ri’s and Ziv’ri’s were the ones she inadvertently found herself immersed in. For once, she didn’t mind. I don’t know why that would bother you, his brother responded dryly. After you drank that liquor from Promeii 7, I would think urine would be a vast improvement. Though they spoke aloud, their thoughts mirrored their words, enabling her to listen in. Jak’ri laughed. It probably would. That bura was revolting. Yet you still drank it. And won the wager. Ziv’ri made a grumbly sound. I never should’ve wagered my hovercycle. Best cycle I ever owned, Jak’ri crowed. His brother grunted. Did you tell Ava about that? She raised her eyebrows, surprised to hear Ziv’ri mention her. No. I think I’ll spare her that one. Why? Don’t want to tarnish your virile image by describing the week afterward that you spent hanging your head in the lav and regurgitating everything you ate? Jak’ri laughed. I already tarnished my image when I showed her what I look like now. Not a wise move. Even Shek’ra wouldn’t want you if she could see you now. You’re far too scrawny to attract a female. Drek you. Low masculine laughter accompanied the siblings’ teasing. What does she look like? Ziv’ri asked. Ava? Yes. All you’ve told me is she looks Lasaran. A moment passed, and Ava found herself holding her breath as she awaited his answer. She’s beautiful, Jak’ri said, something like affection tingeing his voice. Warmth filled her. Small and delicate like the Lasaran princess. She was actually three inches taller than Ami. But Jak’ri had been a head taller than her or more, so she supposed anyone a foot shorter would seem small and delicate to him. She isn’t built like our women, he continued. Her shoulders aren’t as broad. And her chest and back aren’t as muscled. What about her breasts? You don’t need to know about her breasts, Jak’ri chastised him. But they’re perfect, plump and round. She didn’t think he said that last part out loud, thankfully. Ava glanced down at her modest bosom. She’d always considered her breasts small by society’s standards. Certainly nothing that would stop traffic. But it seemed as though they were actually larger than most Purveli women’s. And Jak’ri liked them, judging by the way his thoughts drifted to memories of her lacy bra cupping her breasts while they swam and played together in the ocean. You’re thinking about her breasts now, aren’t you? Ziv’ri asked. She grinned. Yes, he is, she answered telepathically. Jak’ri gasped. Oh ho! Ziv’ri crowed on a laugh. You’ve made my brother blush, Ava. I haven’t seen his face this red since Mother caught him— Do not finish that sentence! Jak’ri ordered. Ava laughed.