#how to pronounce Tou's name

[wisecrackingeric-2]

OKAY OKAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I hope you have/had an amazing day!! I’m chewing on you as a treat :) Love you!! /p 💝💖🩷💞💘

-I know it’s widely accepted that Léon has true man hygiene but I digress, he has an extensive routine with his hair and hair care and spends ages on it to keep it soft

-Luis loves this and can not for the life of him keep his hands out of Leon’s hair

-Luis, for someone of his stature, has a massive appetite and finishes off Leon’s leftovers most of the time too (The typical pointing at his plate; “Are you gonna finish that?”)

-After a while of this happening, Léon starts to realise that Luis has a crazy huge appetite and everytime he’s “not been able to finish his food” was actually a ploy to convince Léon to eat something other than microwave dinners. He never says that he’s caught on.

-Luis struggles to stand long enough in the shower to actually wash himself and his hair without having to take really long breaks and as much as he tries to brush it off, he ends up asking Léon to sit in a bath instead and help him wash his hair

-Leon is an Overboard Gift Giver, he spends hundreds of dollars on gifts, there’s no such thing as a casual gift with him. It goes without saying that he absolutely spoils Luis

-Luis is a more sentimental gift giver, old romantic with roses and chocolates and that one thing Léon lingered on too long at the mall but ended up putting back..

-Leon’s Spanish capabilities greatly improve with Luis, who teaches him how to actually pronounce things too (“Boosco un policía.. veeno arkee” Headass HAHDHEHSH)

-Luis and Ashley are the best of friends, they scream Little Sister/Older Brother duo to me, Luis will do whatever she asks, from cooking dinner to listening to 2000s girly pop music while she does makeup

-Luis Doesn’t Know How to Button His Shirts All the Way Serra

-SOMEONE had a HC that Navarro was his maternal surname and Serra is his paternal last name and I don’t know whether that was you, @/hamartia-grander, @/Geddy-leesbian or someone else BUT I AGREE

-Idc Luis and Ada are actually best friends and Ada listens to Luis gossip about Léon for hours

-He takes a lot of pride in his appearance, it’s one of his only traits that could be attributed to vanity and he spends ages putting together the best outfit for different occasions, Leon has learnt to tell Luis at least an hour in advance when they’re going anywhere

-Leon has also taken to being more openly affectionate, Luis preens under his compliments and lights up for the rest of the day when Léon tells him he’s beautiful

IM CHOKING TOU ANS STRANGLIMG YOU AND SHAKING YOU SO LOVINGLY

ARE WE THE SAME PWEAON OR SOMETHING??????? DO WE HAVE THE SAME BRAIN?????????????????? CUZ I LITERALLY HAVE SOME OD THE EXACT AAME HEADCANNONS TOO?????????????? LIKE LEON SITTING IN TBE BATH TO HELP WASH LUIS’ HAIR OR LUIS BEING AN OLD FASHIONED SENTIMENTAL GIFT GIVER VS LEON GOING ALL OUT ON GIFTS AGABSGBWDYNXHXNZJSJSJANSJDJDJ IM GONNA GO FERAL THANK YOU SOSOSOSOOSOSOSOSOOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH

Also the headcannon You’re thinking Of is by @geddy-leesbian !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[little-mari-on-a-roof]

A new song from the upcoming Miraculous movie just came out, so here is a transcription of the lyrics with my translation. 🫶

Plus forts ensemble (Stronger Together)

Elliott:

Dans ma vie, tu es entrée comme par magie.

Comme une étoile qui brille dans la nuit,

Tu es apparue.

In my life, you entered as if by magic.

Like a star shining in the night,

You appeared.

Lou:

Mes sentiments ne trichent pas quand tu es présent.

Tu as effacé mes tourments,

La peur a disparu.

My feelings don't cheat when you are present.

You erased my torments,

The fear has disappeared.

E: Prends ma main !

Both: Nos chemins parcourent le monde,

Nos destins sont liés maintenant.

Et ce soir, toi et moi, montrons au monde

Que rien ne peut nous séparer.

Take my hand!

Our paths travel the world,

Our fates are linked now.

And tonight, you and me, let's show the world

That nothing can stand between us.

L: Grâce à toi, je connais ce qu'est vraiment la liberté,

Tu as su retrouver l'étincelle qui me manquait.

Coeurs et âmes, associés,

Plus forts ensemble pour l'éternité.

Thanks to you, I know what freedom really is,

You knew how to find the spark I was missing.

Hearts and souls, connected,

Stronger together for eternity.

E: Mes chagrins ne sont rien dès que je sens ta présence,

Mon regard dans le tien est bien plus qu'une évidence.

Coeurs et âmes, associés,

Plus forts ensemble pour l'éternité.

My sorrows are nothing as soon as I feel your presence,

My eyes in yours is more than evident.

Hearts and souls, connected,

Stronger together for eternity.

L: Quelle est cette émotion ? Je ne peux voir que lui.

Dès qu'il prononce mon nom, l'univers me sourit.

What is this emotion? I can only see him.

As soon as he pronounces my name, the universe smiles at me.

E: Dans son regard, j'ai rencontré l'amour.

Je voudrais que ce soir dure pour toujours.

In her gaze, I met love.

I want this night to last forever.

L: Désolée, mon cœur est déjà pris.

J'en oublie qui je suis,

Je m'en vais c'est mieux.

I'm sorry, my heart is already taken.

It makes me forget who I am,

It's better for me to go.

E: Reste un peu, on est bien tous les deux.

Je te fais un aveu,

Je suis amoureux.

Stay a little, we're good together.

I confess,

I am in love.

[despair-to-future-arcs]

Woo! Crisis averted, nice meeting you two! We've heard a lot about ya

Oh you have? Well pleasant to meet you, I'm Fuji Okamoto - I'm one of the head for the Next Generation of Hope that helps with speeches and languages.

I tend to help out my fellow leaders with their speeches and languages since we do work with people all around the world.

So these guys don't speak other languages?

Well Mr. Kasai can speak some English along with Miss. Kabuya, I know Mr. Kagarin speaks Russian quite fluently but they have some... social issues that needs a bit of correcting so I need to step in.

Speaking of which, there they are.

*Is reading over a piece of paper* 'Welcome all members of the next generation of hope; As the head leader, I am here to announce 3 newest members joining; Setsuka Chiebukuro, Naoyuki Harukawa and Cho...Chole Toussain... Tousow?'

Excuse uh, Chloe, right? can you repeat how you say your surname, I'm not exactly good at French so...

Pardon?

Ah, Je vois - It's pronounce 'Tou-ssiant' so say it like that, Monsieur Kasai.

Toussiant...? Alright that sounds easy, okay thank you.

Non non, it's fine - it does seem you struggle so I do get it.

But de toute façon Monsieur Kagarin but do we have to put on that helmet? Is it safe?

Well of course it Miss Toussiant; all that you need to do is put it on for 10 minutes and the helmet will scan your memories and you'll be done.

Still, I wish I didn't have to look at the memories of the men here; quite frankly it's a bother.

Well Yuri we need to make sure all the memories are on those disc, you may not like it but we have to.

So... is he always like that?

Well he's pretty harmless so don't worry about him.

Ah well okay, thanks for telling me - it's gonna take a while to know everyone else so hopefully it's not too much of a bother.

I don't think you will be...

Oh, seems the last one has arrive. Is this him?

Yes Miss. Kabuya, this is Naoyuki Harukawa, he just arrive.

Howdy there, call me Nao or Yuki if you like; It's good to meet all the leaders!

Well well, you seem like a decent guys; names Shinji Kasai, I'm the leader of this group and it's good to meet you.

I heard quite a bit about what you did; you helped the adults that were hiding in the adult shelter at Towa City and help them escape when a war happen.

And of course another man, well I suppose it's nice to meet you...

... (That guy surely doesn't like me, huh? I probably should keep it to myself...)

Yeah figure I do something to help them out, y'know?

I heard from them that they mostly wanted to leave because they heard that they sided with one of the guys that allow those Monokumas to be made and wanted to leave which I can't blame them so I offer some assistant and even help them settle down.

Plus I heard things had started to settle down in recent year, I can tell you all so I feel pretty welcome already.

Well happy to hear that, will be doing introductions soon so maybe you can look around and talk with your fellow members after introductions.

[bultaonene]

tk corset prompt

“Taehyung. Come here.”

Taehyung tightens his hold on the towels he’s carrying. Not too much, of course - he doesn’t want to ruin Master Jeon’s bath towels.

“I was told to bring these to the laundry room, Master Jeon.”

He can’t see him with the door left only slightly ajar, but he’s sure tat the master of the house is pushing his tongue against his cheek, just like he always does when people don’t immediately bend to his wishes.

“And I just told you to come here. I think one of those orders is clearly more important, don’t you think?”

Master Jeon says so and then clicks his tongue, obviously tickled off. Taehyung takes some satisfaction in hearing his annoyance so clearly in his tongue.

Unfortunately, that’s the only satisfaction he can get. He wishes he could walk away and ignore him, but he likes his head too much to risk parting with it just to disobey a bratty noble.

He pushes the door and enters, the hinges creaking ominously. The Jeon Manor is an old building, lavish and gloomy, impeccable and seemingly falling to pieces at once. Old nobility, the Jeons. Old and rotten and, in the case of the younger one, atrociously spoiled.

Jeon Jeongguk is facing a window, his figure too dark to distinguish his outline well. Not only because of the light – the noble loves to dress in clothes as inky as his hair, as dark as his eyes.

“Give me a hand, won’t you?”

His voice is honey sweet and melodious, the tone deceptively gentle. As if he’s truly asking for a favor and not issuing an order.

He moves from the window towards his wardrobe, trailing his finger on the wall like he’s tracing a line on it, like he’s scraping away the dark wood to reveal the decaying foundations of the Jeon Manor.

He never looks at Taehyung. No, he’s too good for that, too above him. He only gives him his shoulders, broad and strong, clad in a fabric too precious for Taehyung to even look at it.

It’s when he looks at his outfit that he understands what the noble is asking help with. His clothing is simple - expensive slacks, even more expensive top. But wound around his waist there’s a leather corset that gives him that final touch, makes him look just that tad more unreacheable and lavish.

The leather corset is half open, ribbons cascading from his back like a black waterfall. Taehyung hitches to touch them, to feel their silkyness under his fingertips.

He swallows down when Master Jeon grips the bed’s footboard, bending down marginally. It’s just a bit, but it’s enough to make the line of his shoulders look stronger, the width of his waist smaller. As if by simply leaning forward he put things into another perspective, one that makes Taehyung’s head spin.

“I can call someone else to help, I don’t know-”

“I didn’t ask for someone else, Taehyung” he says and the way he pronounces his name, the way he drags the 'hyung' like he can’t bear his tongue to get separated from the syllable. It makes Taehyung feel hot and cold at the same time. “I asked you to help me. It shouldn’t be so difficult.”

“Of course, Master Jeon.” He replies and bows his head, because that’s what people like Taehyung do. That’s what he has to do.

The steps he takes to get closer to the noble sound too loud, like a march he didn’t ask to be a part of. And the closer he gets the more he’s mesmerized by the details - Jeon’s hand flexing and gripping the board tighter, the ribbons swaying with every movement he makes.

Taehyung knows how to tie a corset. He helped his sister do it when she got married, because that was the only occasion they felt fancy enough to get her one. They’ve barely have seen a corset in their lifetimes, much less wore it, but Taehyung asked the maids and the ladies-in-waiting and so when it was time he tied it perfectly, helped his sister slip a white gown over it and kissed her on the forehead before sending her off.

He knows what to do without having to be told anything, so he brushes his trembling hands towards the ribbons at the top. He’s afraid to touch, to somehow ruin the expensive garment, but Jeon is waiting and no one makes a Jeon wait. He slips his fingers through the ribbons and starts tugging, so gently at first that the corset doesn’t tighten one bit.

“Tighter, Taehyung.” His voice is a bored drawl and Taehyung feels his eyebrow tick, letting his hands be a bit more firm. He tugs on the ribbons more forcefully, but he’s still careful.

“Has washing my laundry made your hands numb? Come on, Taehyung. Be a bit useful.”

Taehyung has to stop for one second before resuming and he thinks he hears an amused huff. Everything in Jeongguk’s pose looks mocking, even if Taehyung can only see his shoulders, his nape.

Satisfied with the ribbons at the top of the corset, he starts tightening the one from the bottom. He has to tighten those before he can pull at the two loops in the middle part, at the ribbons by his waist. Those will be the ones to make the corset stay put, to make it hug Jeon’s waist like a lover would.

Taehyung pulls the ribbon, looks at his hands grabbing the corset. For a second he lets his mind wander, wonders how his hands would look if they were doing the opposite. If instead of closing the corset they were opening it, would they look different? More frantic, less mindful?

But they would still look so big, wouldn’t they? Taehyung has big hands. Wide palms, long fingers. He can easily wrap them around Jeon’s waist, circle it fully. And his hands against the black leather look amazing, delightful.

He bets Jeongguk thinks the same, if the shiver that runs through him is anything to go by.

“Tighter. Taehyung, for fuck’s sake. It would’ve been quicker if I did it alone.”

His voice sounds heavenly but the words are grating, making him grind his teeth together. He yanks some of the ribbons, eager to give him a taste of what tighter means, but if he wanted a negative response he is to be dissapointed.

Taehyung pulls on the ribbons roughly and Jeongguk hums, low and pleased. His body shifts towards Taehyung and the footboard creaks from the forceful grip Jeongguk has on it.

He turns his head slightly, just enough for their eyes to meet. The harsh tugging was meant to put him in place but there is no regret in his gaze and he surely doesn’t look reprimanded. If anything, he looks eager.

He doesn’t say anything, just exhales and turns his head back towards his bed again. And so Taehyung resumes, cursing every ribbon and every eyelet and trying to make his hands work faster.

“Maybe another century or two and I’ll be ready, hm? You just have to pull tighter, it isn’t difficult isn’t it-”

He doesn’t manage to finish the sentence because Taehyung feels his patience leave him and he finally obeys him. He pulls, yanks the ribbons by the middle so the corset fits snugly and tight. But he isn’t satisfied, no, not now. He wants it tighter?

He’ll have it tighter.

Taehyung wraps all the ribbons around one hand and uses the other to push Jeon forward, making his body hit the footboard. He places one hand on the damn corset, on that fuckin tiny waist, and with the other he pulls, yanks the ribbons until the corset is too tight, the ribbons taut from the strain.

“Is this better, Master Jeon?” he asks, hisses the words right by his ear. He keeps pulling and pulling until it feels like the ribbons will rip, until the corset will crush Jeon’s ribs.

“Is it tight enough?”

Jeongguk is struggling against his hold, hands flailing and losing their hold on the footboard. His breathing is quicker, frantic, and Taehyung cracks a smile, feels victory pour over him like blessed rain.

It doesn’t last long. Because Jeongguk is struggling, yes, but his ears are red and when he turns his eyes are burning and his lips are smiling.

“Not quite enough,” he says, gasping a bit more when Taehyung pulls on the ribbons even more. But the motion doesn’t seem to deter him. On the contrary, he whispers a ‘yes’ that is a breath more than a word and he looks at Taehyung, grin getting wider.

Taehyung wonders then who’s really holding the strings - him, with ribbons wound around his fingers, or Jeongguk, with Taehyung wound around his little finger. Taehyung gulps, Jeongguk grins, and he thinks he has his answer.

“I think you can give me more, Taehyung. Don’t you think so?”

or: Taehyung likes the elegant uniform he has as a butler in the Jeon Manor. But he doesn't like the Jeons - hates them, actually. Snotty nobles born with a silver spoon in their mouths, that's what they are.

Unfortunately, he isn't the only one who appreciates that uniform on him. The younger of the Jeons has taken an interest in him, lured in both by his beautiful face and his behavior, just shy of disrespectful. He knew that refusing to lick the Jeons' shoes like a good pet would've brought him trouble, but he didn't think it would be like this.

No, he definitely didn't expect to have Jeon Jeongguk trailing after him, to ask for him constantly and then treat him as his personal slave. He never wanted to catch the eye of a man like him, but it is too late now. Jeongguk has noticed him. Jeongguk wants him.

And what Master Jeon wants, Master Jeon gets.

[ranatsume]

5.20.23

This post is not an orchid update! This post is about some research I have been doing in order to find this dendrobium moniliforme that I have been looking for. These are my current results. I just wanted to document them somewhere and Tumblr seemed like the best place. If you don’t care, scroll on, but if you are interested, then be my guest!

So in March, Seed Engei had an auction on eBay for this dendrobium moniliforme:

Sadly, I lost that auction. (Personally, I don’t like auctions and I wish people just sold everything for a set price!) Anyways, Satomi-san listed this den as “unknown” and said that it was labeled a chouzaki. Until earlier today, I thought that this was the name of the dendrobium moniliforme, but after doing extensive research I discovered that this was referring to the flower’s shape!

Apparently, similar to how Chinese categorize cymbidium petal shape, Japanese also do this with sekkoku (dendrobium moniliforme). So I discovered that the shape of these flowers is called 兜咲き kabutozaki or more rarely 筒咲きtsutsuzaki. (These Japanese readings may be incorrect.) 咲き means blossom or bloom which can also be pronounced zaki, which is where the chouzaki comes from, but I’m it sure what the chou is referring to, since tou is the Chinese reading for both 兜 and 筒. Anyways, 兜 means helmet, the helmet samurai wore in particular. If you look it up, you will see how the right and left petals of these sekkoku resemble the shape the of twin golden winged decoration attached to the front of the samurai helmets. 筒 means cylinder. You will be able to see in the pictures below how the flowers have a cylindrical shape from top to bottom.

So after looking through numerous photos of sekkoku with kabutosaki flowers, I finally found one that looked like it:

The flowers as you can see have a cylinder body with winged petals that flare out like a samurai hamlet! However the flowers here are a bit big and not as green as the one that I’m looking for.

Next I found a sekkoku called Okina. It had the exact same shape and color as the orchid that I’m looking for! Though it might be a tad less green and it doesn’t have the pink marking.

セッコク【翁】　Venerable

The only problem with this one, is that upon further investigation I found that that many other ones are more white. I also found three that had slight variations of the name:

セッコク【緑翁】　Green Venerable

セッコク【翁緑】　Venerable Green

セッコク【翠翁】　Venerable Kingfisher (Green)

As you can see in the first photo of the three, Ryokuou is not as green as the on I’m searching for. The one in the second picture Ouryoku (the kanji are reversed) is a good match, especially because it has some pink markings, but they seem to be in the wrong places (i.e. the tip of the petals and not just the center). But still it’s a beautiful flower that I would be fine settling for! The third one, Suiou, so far has the best green color, but at the angle that the photo was taken, it’s hard to tell what the flower shape looks like. Either way, all three could be possible names of the one that I’m seeking!

There is also a variation of Okina called Zuihou (or Zuikaku) which in Japanese is described as:

「翁」の実生の選別で、俗に「紅翁」と言われている。Translation: A selected seedling from 'Okina' which is commonly referred to as 'Beniokina' (Red Okina).

As you can see in the pictures below, there is a hint of red on the petals. The picture on the left so far looks to be the most accurate - the petals are a nice green and its center is pink, though it is hard to tell due to the blurriness of the photo. The one on the right has whiter petals with pink tips, but the center is pink! So that's a plus.

セッコク【瑞鳳】　Auspicious Phoenix

also known as

セッコク【瑞鶴】　Auspicious Crane

This next photo that I found is probably another selection from Okina named Midorikabuto (or Ryokutou). This flower has an excellent green color like the one that I’m looking for, but sadly it doesn’t have a pink center. Either way I would love to have it!

セッコク【緑兜】　Green Helmet

And lastly I found these photos of one a green sekkoku whose shape looks almost exact. But sadly there was no name.

So in conclusion I’m looking for sekkoku Okina. If possible one that is very green and has some pink markings like Zuihou, Ouryoku, or Suiou. If you have any of these and would like to sell me a division, I would be extremely grateful. If not, I can only wait until I find someone in Japan who can import it or an eBay listing. Wish me luck!

All photos are not mine. If you have any useful information or questions feel free to message me 🤗

[honeyfizzly]

All yttd character name meanings cause I haven't posted on here in forever, long post lolz

Most of this taken from wiki

Beware of spoilers lol, I'll add my own personal notes about the name

Sara-> Sa meaning "(silk) gauze; gossamer" and Ra means "good; pleasing; skilled".

The Hebrew meaning for Sara means "princess/noble women" which is pretty fitting as she has the highest winning rate

Chidouin-> Chi "one thousand", Dou "shrine hall" and In "institution"

Jou-> "length; height"

Note that nankidai said that Jou's name originated from the line "stand up Joe!" From the manga "Ashita no Joe"

Joe isn't really a westernized version of Jou in yttd as vgperson states that both names are used in the source material, the name Joe is used in a more causal manner.

Tazuna-> ta "rice field" zuna "rope; cable"

Kazumi-> Kazu "peace" Mi "oneself"

Mishima-> Mi "three" Shima "island"

I think the island mightve been possible referencing how Mishima would be the first protagonist of your time to shine island existence. Could be just a coincidence though

Kai-> Kai "precept"

Satou- Sa "assistant; help" and Tou "wisteria"

Note that Kai also means shellfish (hence the "kain you believe it" surrounded by shellfish in his laptop) but Kai's name uses different Kanji from the shellfish one.

Alice-> his name is most likely a reference to the band "Alice in chains", since he is a man named Alice who is in chains. The German name Alice means "noble"

Yabusame-> ya "eight", bu "currency" and same "rain"

Reko-> re "waterway" ko "child"

Yabusame-> Ya "eight" Bu "currency" and Same "rain"

Note that her name was spelled as "Reco" but since C isn't really pronounced in the Japanese language, it later on got canonized to be "Reko" and "Reco" was used for her stage name.

Nao-> na "greens" o "cord, thread"

Egokoro-> e "picture" gokoro "heart"

Kanna-> Kan "god; deity" Na "what"

Note that there's also a flower that shares the same name as her

Kizuchi-> Ki "tree" zu "ferry" chi "pond"

Shin-> shin "truth; genuiness"

Tsukimi-> tsuki "moon" mi "see" (aka moon watching or moon viewing)

Qtaro-> Taro "strong, heroic, masculine"

Note that his name is a reference to a Jojo episode where a character uses the name "qtaro kujo"

Burgerburg-> this name dosent really have a meaning.

Qtaro's initials spell out bbq (BurgerBerg Qtaro)

Sou-> sou "suddenly; smoothly"

Keiji-> kei "respect" Ji "two"

Shinogi-> shino "bamboo grass" gi "tree"

Gin-> Gin "silver"

(I couldn't find the meaning for his last name rip)

Note that Sou is also an anagram for the Japanese word for lie, Uso

Hiyori-> hi "sun" yori "harmony"

Note that it can also be read as sunny weather

Midori just means green

Ranmaru-> Ran "orchid" Maru "circle"

Kageyama-> Kage "shadow" Yama "mountain"

Anzu-> An "apricot" Zu "child"

Kinashi-> Ki "tree" Nashi "pear tree"

Shunsuke-> Shun "excellent; genius" Suke "involve oneself; shellfish"

Hayasaka-> Haya "early; fast" Saka "slope; incline"

Naomichi-> nao "direct" Michi "road; path; route"

Kurumada-> kuruma "car" da "rice field"

Mai-> Mai "dance"

Tsurugi-> tsuru "crane (bird)" gi "castle"

Hinako-> Hina "chick" ko "child"

Mishuku-> Mi "honorable; beautiful" shuku "inn"

All of the floormasters have pun names

Sue miley-> smiley

Hoemi-> small smile

Tia safalin-> tears are a fallin

Han'naki-> half crying

Rio ranger-> rearrange

Rio lazier-> realizer

Toto noeru-> to arrange

Koko roeru-> to gain a heart

[mrpenguinpants-alter-ego]

Another Genshin history time: Zhongli’s name is a pun and I read way to deep into characters.

Spoilers for 1.1 and a few notes on Guizhong. 

So in celebration of Zhongli’s character banner dropping, THAT I’M GOING TO HOPE HE COMES ON THE FIRST 10 ROLL CAUSE I DO NOT HAVE THE PRIMOGEMS, I went on another quest on character names. 

Also as I mentioned before: My Chinese and character history is super rusty. I am not the definitive truth so I’m sorry if I am completely wrong and I’m reading way to hard into this. But you’re going to have to pry this out of my cold dead hands. 

The wiki mentions this but: Zhongli’s full cn name is 钟离. It's a literal translation of pingyin into zhong [钟] and li [离]. Technically zhong [钟] means “bell” but if you add [时钟] it means “clock” (commonly used word). For li [离] technically this means "from" [sorta] but it can also be taken as “leave”, “away”, or “escape”. Therefore his name can be taken as "leaving the clock" or in English terms "off the clock". Which is a pun since he kinda killed himself and retired. 

So radicals are the basic building blocks of Chinese. The alphabet in English terms. 

Zhong [钟]. Funny enough, this can be used as a surname [probably why his name is zhongli but that's a whole other topic. Basically other characters I'll talk about are usually placed in the noun category. This one is placed in both surname and noun (similar to jp)] means “clock”, “bell”, or if you want to get really fancy: “time as measured in hours and minutes”. 

[ 钅] this is radical 167 which means “metal” or “gold”. It can also be referred to as "Golden Worlds". I don't think I need to say much on this connection.

[中] (this character is usually seen in the [中文] literally meaning "chinese") but it can also mean “center/middle” or “during”. 

Completely off topic but below characters are also pronounced as zhong: 

[忠] means loyal/devotion. 

[终] meaning end or finally the end. 

[衷] which means heart/from bottom of heart (you can also read this as sincerely from the bottom of my heart in English terms since the structure of 衷  is above, middle, and below). 

[忪] which means restless or afraid.

So basically [钟] is the combination of “metal/gold center”. Or “during the golden worlds” if you REALLY want to get fancy. Usually the term clock (which is where zhongli's pun comes from you would add [时] so it makes [时钟]. Although, [时] is mainly what makes the word [时钟] mean “time” since [时] pretty much translates to time. Funny enough [一见钟情] means “love at first sight” and [钟爱] which means “to treasure”. But mainly characters that use [钟] deal with time or clocks. 

You can pretty much take this as zhongli making his gnosis his "gold center" since he makes gold, well mora, and it's in his chest. Also from the wiki but "Vago Mundo," is Latin for "I wander the world."

---

Li [离] it's made up of [亠][凶] [禸]. 

[亠] which is radical 8. But [亠] or tou means lid/top. It also shares the same sound as head [头]. 

[凶] is usually known as "fierce" and is combined with other words like "lethal/murder weapon" [凶器] or [凶恶] meaning fierce. It also appears in [凶神恶煞] which basically means like an evil god or demons. Basically not good stuff. funny enough [凶] contains the radical [凵] and [乂] which means "container of wickedness [凵 + 乂 ] " though  [乂] turns into govern/control while [凵] means open box. [there's a lot that we can go into for origins but thats besides the point]. 

[禸] you technically can read this as ravaged/trampled but it's usually associated with track or rump. Now when I say rump I mean "a small or unimportant remnant of something originally larger.". While track is animal tracking's. This is radical 114 which means track. 

I’m reading way to hard into this but its basically the "lid" of a "contained wickedness" that has tracked/trampled. Though putting all these together just means leave/separate. 

It kinda makes sense, cause zhongli, well "morax", was this super unemotional guy that just killed a bunch of stuff until guizhong’s death.  So you could interpret it as it's a lid on his "wickedness" that has trampled. Since during the Archon War he threw fucking rock spears that are still seen today. 

If we want to really get deep into it, you could think of zhongli’s name as: 

zhong - being his present self as zhongli  

li - being his past self as Morax. 

Or you can switch the two around and make: 

zhong - act as morax (since he gave up his gnosis).  

li - being his current self. Trying to contain the “wickedness”. 

---

Couple extra points: 

Morax was the demon that teaches astronomy and other liberal science that gave good and wise familiars that know the virtues, herbs and precious stones. 

Li also appears in [江蓠] which is a red algae that's called "dragon's vegetables".  

 [江蓠] or "Gracilaria" which is used in red agar can be used for "appetite suppressant, a vegetarian substitute for gelatin, or for blood agar plate used to culture bacteria and diagnose infection". It was also a natural high-quality health food material so it was processed into various health foods for middle-aged and elderly people

And yes, I am aware characters appearing in other words do not have any connection but let me have this. 

I’m not sure how interesting this is but I’d really like to go into a deep dive on all Genshin characters and places. I know I translated some of Kaeya and Childe’s in game lines if anyone was interested. 

[faeroviolet]

Mystery chocopie(fanfic)

Content:

⚫ English version

⚫ Русская версия(внизу)

Сredits: Studio au by @zu-is-here​ other in the end, since It’s the spoiler...

Attention: there can be many letters, words and sentences here. Contains Out of Character(OOC), a lot of humor, hellcrazy, anarchy of imagination, strange action anomaly and other weird thing... Sorry, not sorry...

There can be mistakes because ... no one has ever said whether I write English badly or not. They never said at all whether my stories were interesting or they like them, they never said anything at all. Nothing ,_,

   Today is such a wonderful day: a clear blue sky with a bright sun shining above. It's about 1pm now. And the work at the studio is in full swing. Despite the bustle that soars throughout the pavilion, there is a sense of calm and peace. This's a kind of harmony that nothing can break, except...

Sudden crash and noise. The shout coming from the room was so loud that it could be heard outside. Even a small bird, peacefully sleeping on a branch, had to wake up abruptly and also hastily leave its seat, sleepily flapping its wings. What's going on? Someone is being killed... or given to domestic violence?! If someone passed by, then from what he heard, the soul would go into his heels and would not dare to climb out of there before its owner gets to the house, you never know what you can imaginate.

As they say: there's no smoke without fire. So who started the fire? It's easy to find out by watching what is happening through the window of the third floor.

A skeleton with purple lights in his eye sockets spoke in raised tones with the same skeleton as him, only the pupils were golden in color. Apparently the first one scolded the second one for something:

“Dream, where are choco-pies?!” Without stopping to ask the same question, Nightmare fiercely poked his finger into a silver tray, on which crumbs from the sweets that were recently lying there were still visible.

“N-nightmare, I didn't touch anything.“ Still defending himself with the same response, Dream held out his palms in front of himself.

“Don’t lie!!! When I came here you were rummaging around in the lockers, and there was already an empty tray on the table. How do you explain this to me?“

“Firstly, I came and everything was like this.” The light-eyed skeleton tried to calm the unexpected ardor of his brother. “Secondly, what are you talking about? And... why did it make you so angry?”

“Ugh, I brought some tasty treats to everyone... Or did you not see when we were going?” Nightmare breathed deeply. “I put them on a tray, but especially for myself I put one on another plate and put it where no one would take it for sure.” He pointed to the kitchen table behind where the mentioned utensil item was. “There were 99 choco-pies and one mine: generally - 100! And all of them are gone! What can you say to that, brother?”

“Oh, Nighty, I don't know. I didn't even look that way.”

“But where could they just go? So many...”

For a moment, Nightmare stopped and thought, his anger subsided. He walked over to the wall and sat down in a small armchair, putting his finger to his chin and looking up at the ceiling. Dream decided to join the pondering of this situation and sat down in a armchair nearby. But, unfortunately, not a single thought entered their skulls. Of course, how could this happen? It is simply impossible for such a large amount to disappear at once! Nightmare, desperate to find a clue to this mystery, sighed and slightly wilted: he did the wrong thing, yelling at Dream. After all, his brother isn’t guilty of anything, and he, hastening to conclusions, cursed him like that. He ought to apologize, so turned to him, about to say this, but his gaze caught on something else, and he stopped before even started.

Just in the corridor passed another skeleton, his eye sockets were hollow and faint black streaks were visible on the cheekbones below them. He greedily licked the bones of his fingers and was about to go to his room, when Nightmare ran into him. He looked at him dumbfounded, and Killer did not at all understand the meaning of the look of this weirdo.

“What's wrong... Nightmare?”

“It's you!” The skeleton with purple eyelights shouted right into his nonexistent ears.

Immediately after Nightmare, Dream ran up. He anxiously began to drag his brother, who was firmly caught on the other’s shoulders, muttering something about stepping on the same rake. The older twin calmed down a bit, and both skeletons, along with Killer, returned to their armchairs. The brothers settled down on the seats, and the last one continued to stand beside him, still not delving into what was happening. What was the problem?

“What actually happened?” Killer nevertheless asked the question that tormented him, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head to the side.

“It's just that Nightmare was furious that someone ate 100 choco-pies, among which was his, specially postponed!“ The younger twin said unceremoniously. At this explanation of the situation, Nightmare slightly frowned: the manner in which it was pronounced, he didn’t like.

“Because you obviously have something to eat... Look! How tou smiled and slobbering your fingers!”

Killer reacted calmly to such a stinging statement.

“Oh, this...” With a sly grin, he licked his still sweet finger once more. “Ccino and I were playing.”

“What?! Without me?” Nightmare almost fell from his chair and, jumping up from his seat, wanted to be indignant, but stopped and, slightly blushing, glanced nervously at Dream. He cleared his throat and continued: “Umm, I mean... Stop wandering around idle!”

“Oh! Do you know what?” The empty-eyed exclaimed immediately, as if nothing had happened, not paying attention to Night's embarrassment at all. Brothers looked at him as if they were listening intently, waiting for him to continue. “We need to check something! Let's go.”

Killer led them long and tediously along many corridors. And where to? They stopped at a dressing room, and their favorite guide, who took the fellow travelers into the wilderness*, knocked on the door. Not hearing a response from there, he happily opened it. Having walked a little inside and, at the same time looking around just in case, Killer gestured to the dummies to come in.

Once in the room, the brothers didn’t know what to expect further from the miracle without a skirt*, so they just watched his actions. And he quickly and surely rushed forward to some picture, which depicted peaches and daisies, and held out his hands to it. Oh, what a shock and surprise was on the faces of Dream and Nightmare when they saw what was behind the beautiful 'masterpiece'. And it even seemed to them that at that moment on Killer’s forehead could read: “I can look at you for eternity, and I'll never get tired of it!”.

“Shh! It's a secret.” He put his finger to his mouth conspiratorially.

“What's this?! Safe?” Immediately Nightmare shouted, but then lowered his tone, as if catching this vibe of secrets and conspiracies. "What's there?”

“I'll open it now and you will find out!” The main 'conspirator' said happily.

“Do you have a code?” Dream was surprised.

“Yep, what did you think? I put it on.“ He grunted in response, dialing the numbers on the display.

When the device sounded, notifying about the correctness of the entered sequence, Killer opened the door and turned to those present with a solemn “Ta-da!”. Not hearing a standing ovation or at least some ooh-ooh, he stalled and turned to the safe, entering into a stupor finally. Empty... There was...

“Empty!” He screamed with a tragic tone and hung on the iron monster. He would have cried, but he was stopped here with questions.

“And what was supposed to be here, smart guy?” Night asked, apparently pleased with his suffering.

“There..." ‘The Drama Queen’ sniffed and rubbed his eye socket. "There must have been my chocolates hidden away for a rainy day.”

“Hidden away, you say?” Nightmare frowned, walked closer to Killer and pulled on himself, looking terribly right into the void of his eye sockets.

“Well, well, Nighty, let the poor man go.” Lisping, his brother gently sang, touching other's shoulder. "He's a victim. The same as we do. Lost..." Dream also made an overly dramatic look. " ...His precious!”

Nightmare groaned painfully and exhaustedly and let go of the poor 'puppy'. They went back to the place where the first incident took place. On the way, Dream and Killer were laughing so hard that it seemed that they could be heard even 100 kilometers away! Simply unbearable... for Nightmare! When they got to the right place, the three detectives sat down at the table, thinking about the "Case of missing the sweet treasure". The name Killer gave. And this picture, which was drawn by an unknown creator, is called "Three knights at the table with crumbs of dead cakes". Another Killer’s joke.

They sat and sat while the wall clock ticked. But nothing came into their heads: not a single sensible thought, not a single guess. It was so upsetting. After all, the situation itself was unusual: it was very puzzling and did not allow believing in its existence. So what's the point? Do keep thinking about it? Dream has been thinking only about these questions lately. To be honest, he wasn’t so interested in it, besides, there are still so many things to do. But something held him back: the reason his brother was so obsessed with it. He wanted to figure it out. Why was Nightmare so angry? Why did he keep on raging? Why is this important to him? It's all so complicated... Dream sighed and lay down on his elbows on the table. He was drawn to sleep, but before he could even close his eyes, someone touched his shoulders.

“Dream, have you seen my chocolate juice?" The skeleton turned around and patted his eyes, met with a familiar and beloved face. Cross stood looking at him for a while, but then turned away and walked to the trash can by the wall. “Maybe it's here somewhere?”

“Cross, don't dig in the trash!" Dream blew up. "Then you need...”

“Found!" The skeleton exclaimed happily, pulling out a box from under some drink from a plastic container. He quickly got up from his knees and walked straight back to the crowd, beaming.

“Cross, you won't drink... from this?" The yellow-eyed skeleton crossed his arms in displeasure.

“Aah... There is already nothing." Cross exhaled in frustration, turning to the others. "By the way, what are you doing here?”

“For your information, garbage rat..." Killer began jokingly.

"What rat?" Indignantly, Cross banged his palm on the table in front of the insolent skeleton .

"So you agree with 'garbage’?" He didn’t calm down, to which he received an evil glance from Nightmare:

“Stop here... throw name-calling! Preventing thinking...”

“What are you thinking about?” Cross inquired again, sitting down on a chair.

“It's just that we have lost something here... that is, I'm listing: 100 choco-pies brought by Nightmare, and Killer's black stock of chocolate.” The younger twin explained to the dear one, tenderly singing every word.

“Hmm...” The two-color-eyed thought. “Do you know? Something similar happened to me.”

“In what sense?”

“Look...” He put an empty box on the table, Dream frowned at this a little, but then relaxed, deciding not to show his displeasure to the dirt. “I was busy with my own business, along the way drinking my juice. I turned away for a minute and... Wow! It has gone.”

Now a fourth has joined their team. But even with additional strength, nothing came of it, and time passed. Something, but this cannot be stopped, just like getting out of this web of problems. Outside the window could already be seen a motley orange-red sky — it’s evening. Imagine, they spent almost half a day on this! Unimaginable! And in the end came to nothing... These're the worst of all. Everyone, except Nightmare, got up and decided to go home already. Dream stopped, waiting for his brother, who continued to sit and incinerate the wooden surface with a piercing gaze of concentration.

“Find, let's go home, it's too late. Why do you need this? It has already happened and that's it...” He touched the shoulders of the elder, trying to reach his mind and induce him to quit.

“I have an idea!” Suddenly Nightmare jumped up and exclaimed, attracting everyone's attention. “Let's stay here and set a trap for the sweet tooth thief!”

Killer and Cross began to exchange glances, and then looked expectantly at Dream, who was standing behind Nightmare. Catching their glances, he sighed and with a gesture, as it were, showed that there was no choice. Brother got too carried away, that's all.

~~~

   The wind is blowing, you can hear it howling ... Someone didn’t close the window or the walls are so thin here? To tell the truth, at such a late hour the studio rooms look scary, and the strange rustle and blue moonlight creates the atmosphere of some kind of horror movie or vampire romance. And yet why did they start it? What if something bad happens? Cross didn’t understand all this, as well as why he got involved in this. But there's nothing to do, only breathing relaxes.

“But I warn you!” It seems that all the gloom of the environment didn’t attract Killer in any way, or he simply ignored the wariness of other participants in this idea. "This is the last chocolate bar that I have, so you, Nightmare, will owe me one more...”

“Yes, yes, yes...” But other's arrogance did not hurt at all. Nightmare was already busy arranging inventory for a makeshift trap, and distraction wasn’t his priority.

“And a box of chocolates sweets for moral damage!” Killer crossed his arms over his chest as if he were some kind of offended lady of high society. To this, only a long exhalation was heard, and Nightmare, rising and crossing his arms, like the other skeleton, rolled his eyes, and then said:

“Anything you order, madam.”

At such an treatment, the aforementioned 'Queen' fell into a stupor and, swaying back and forth on his feet, turned away, hiding a shame-and-shy blush. Oh, how shameless he’s! And Nightmare also gave a fire: he still has no idea how ambiguous he sometimes speaks! But this’s nothing, Killer knows what he’ll do late... But now he need to satisfy the Nightmare's desire to catch the unknown. And Nightmare had just finished and came up to tell the plan:

“Killer will put the bait there, and we'll watch in turn, okay?”

After receiving agreement in the form of nods, Nightmare headed for the exit into the corridor. When Killer asked where he was going, the skeleton waved his hand, indicating that his curious nose was not the case. Snorting at that, Killer went back to the others and joined in, taking a seat behind the barricade of armchairs.

Time passed for a long, in the emptiness of the room the ticking of the clock was heard very clearly and distinctly, even annoying. Nothing happened at all. Nothing! Killer turned to his teammates and frowned. They have already managed to doze off, nestling at each other's sides. What a bum! He sighed... After all, it’s true: the whole thing was initially meaningless. They simply cannot find the one who has committed all the atrocities. And one more strange thing... Nightmare hasn't come yet. And where has our commander gone? Wasn't that so important to him? The skeleton rose from the floor and stretched, kneading the bones of his arms.

He’s so tired, and until Nightmare returns there is no way to leave: it will somehow come out rudly. Killer glanced at the trap and covered his mouth, ready to yawn.

“Even if no one shows up, he will owe me one mo-”

Without even having time to breathe, the skeleton shuddered and slightly choked. For a moment it seemed to him that he saw someone's figure. Having brought himself to more or less calmness, Killer hastened to wake up two sleeping ‘kittens’.

“Uugh! Killer, we agreed: you are watching first, and we are watching later!” Cross grumbled displeased, trying not to raise the tone too much so as not to frighten Dream.

“But this’s important!”

“Your jokes cannot be important...”

“Cross, that's enough...” A little rubbing his right eye socket and yawning, Dream hissed. “Maybe it's really important. What is it, Killer?”

“It seems to me that I saw someone.”

“If it seems, go to the ophthalmologist.*” Cross interjected, narrowing his eyes.

“But it's true! We are alone here and no one else can be, it is unnerving. And also...” The next words the skeleton muttered so that they couldn’t be made out. “Nightmare went somewhere and didn’t return.”

“So, calm down, both.“ Dream tried to cool the guys, and then, looking around, he continued: “Let's see if our ‘uninvited guest’ took the sweet bait.”

Cross didn't want to believe it, but Killer was right along the way that there was an outsider in the building: there was no chocolate on the table. So what should they do next? After all, apparently, they have already missed the ‘criminal’. But there was another snag...

“Uh... brother still doesn’t return.” The skeleton with yellow eyes, which under the light of the moon sparkled with a golden hue, said quietly and sadly.

“By the way, I also thought about it...” Killer spread his arms and shook his head.

“Since he started all this, we'll only find out further actions from him.” Cross said, leaning on the table. “Let's go look for him...”

Agreeing with this idea, they went out into the corridor. It was a long and terrible journey. It was much darker in here than in that room. It seems that not only the wind can be heard, but also a rustle and some kind of grinding. This began to strain not only Cross, who was uncomfortable here from the very beginning, but also Dream. He pressed against the other skeleton even tighter, and, even despite the circumstances, It’s caused some warm feelings inside two-color-eyed and a faint blush on his cheeks.

The sudden clink of broken glass made the skeletons flinch and draw attention to it. They hurried to find out what was going on there, and froze, turning the corner. There was a figure standing not far from the shards of a vase lying on the floor. It seemed familiar, but... Who could it be? Squinting, Killer was the first to guess:

“Nightmare!!!” Rays of bluish light emerged from the curtains covering the window, illuminating half of the above-named skeleton. “What are you doing?”

The empty-eyed skeleton came closer and touched the other's shoulder. Nightmare flinched, dropping something from his hands, and slowly turned his head, looking into the face of his friend with an view as if he had just recently woken up. This greatly surprised the other skeleton, so he tilted his head to the side, waiting for answers, but without waiting for anything, he paid attention to the object that was lying on the floor. Killer bent down and took it in his hands. Looking closely, he was able to determine that it was... no wonder, chocolate! Not just any, but that one! Killer was sure. But he couldn’t understand what that could mean.

Dream and Cross didn't understand either. They approached with Killer, but all this time they were just silent. Everyone was so confused that they didn't even know what to say. Even Nightmare himself was shocked.

"Highty..." After a while his brother said quietly, drawing attention to himself. "So you're a lunatic? I didn't notice before...”

“I ... I ...” He darted his gaze across the dark room and fiddled with the phalanges of his fingers. “I don't even know what to say, guys..."

“So maybe you did it all?" Killer said, rising from the floor and continuing to hold the sweet bar in his hand. The violet-eyed skeleton lowered its head apologetically at his words. But it seems that this wasn’t enough for the other skeleton, so he decided to list all the crimes committed: "You personally ate all the choco-pies that you yourself brought. You ate my supply of chocolate. You drank Cross' juice. And the worst thing: you blamed everyone for this, even your own brother!”

"I'm sorry! Really." The skeleton exclaimed, ashamed and humiliated to the very bottom “I wanted to apologize to Dream, but! Lost on you. Sorry, I really don't know what came over me!”

“Don’t mind, brother.” Dream intervened, hugging him soothingly. "I’m not angry. I guess... you're just overtired. And, perhaps, from this you sleepwalk. I told you not to overexert yourself.”

And now: the solution to this mystery has come. They can already go home, but it wasn’t end! There was one thing that did not tie into all the facts at all...

“And yet, Killer, you are in something wrong " Cross held out thoughtfully, putting his finger to his chin, staring at the toes of his shoes.

"Hmm, and in what?" He grunted, putting his hands on his hips.

“Nightmare may have eaten the choco-pies and drank my juice, but he couldn't break open the safe while he was unconscious. Something doesn't add up.”

"But who cou-”

Suddenly, some rustling distracted Killer, not allowing him to finish the question. There was a grinding and a strange rumbling sound. It attracted the others: turning, they stared into the darkness that covered the half of the room. Something flashed in the depths, and disturbing sounds intensified. The skeletons stepped back, huddled together and huddled against each other. The terrible lights resembled the eyes of some creature. What could it be? It approached, forcing them to retreat in fear closer to the bend. A little more and it will be possible to find out what was hidden in the black haze. The last clinking step and...

“Meow!”

Friends screamed and rushed away. Without turning around, they walked away from danger in disgrace. Was there any danger in that? It's just a cute little kitty. Maybe such a dark atmosphere allowed their fantasy to play out? No one can know for sure. And is this really the end?

“Hey, guys? What were you doing here?” The skeleton in a beige sweater, smiling sweetly under the moonlight, lifted a white cat.

This, of course, was an unexpected turn. But shouldn't we be asking this question, Ccino? After all, they never find out about it. Just as they do not know what scared them that night. This also applies to... So who ate Killer's chocolate? True, there were many questions in this story. And you might think you've knew the answers to all of them, but no. This is an erroneous assumption.

This is something to which there is no answer. Since all these riddles must remain unsolved. And only you yourself will understand what is true and what is false. You decide how you answer.

*  — In those places marked with this sign, there should have been Russian jokes... but you won't understand them(nobody can), so this may seem like very strange sentences.

Credits: Dream and Nightmare by jokublog Cross!Sans by jakei95 Killer!Sans by rahafwabas Ccino!Sans by black-nyanko

BOOOOM, explosion of my brain.

Hmm... That's all, and I forgot what I wanted to say at the end.

So... now I go.

Так, так, тут есть предупреждения: большой текст, слабым на много буковок и мало картинок не смотреть, тут есть ООС(потому что по-другому я не могу), адское безумие, анархия воображения, вам может показаться, что происходящее здесь это полный бред, хотя да, так и есть, тут должно быть смешно.

“Таинственный чокопай”(фанфик)

   Сегодня такой чудесный день: ясное голубое небо с сияющем вышине ярким солнцем. Сейчас где-то час дня. А работа на студии кипит. Несмотря на суету, витающую по всему павильону, ощущается какое-то спокойствие и умиротворение. Это эдакая гармония, которую ничто не может нарушить, разве что...

Внезапный грохот и шум. Крики, доносящиеся из комнаты, были настолько громкими, что их было слышно на улице. Даже маленькой птичке, мирно спящей на ветке, пришлось резко проснуться и также поспешно покинуть насиженное место, спросонья еле хлопая крыльями. Что же происходит? Кого-то убивают... или придают домашнему насилию?! Если бы кто-то проходил мимо, то от услышанного у него бы душа в пятки ушла и не посмела бы оттуда вылазить до того, как её хозяин доберется до дома, мало ли, что можно понапридумывать.

Как говорится: нет дыма без огня. Так кто же устроил пожар? Это легко выяснить, пронаблюдав происходящие через окно третьего этажа.

Скелет с фиолетовыми огнями в глазницах говорил на повышенных тонах с таким же скелетом, как и он, только того зрачки были золотистого цвета. Видимо первый за что-то ругал второго:

— Дрим, где чокопаи?! — не унимаясь задавать один и тот же вопрос, Найтмер яростно тыкал пальцем в серебряный поднос, на котором ещё виднелись крошки от недавно лежащих там вкусняшек.

— Н-найтмер, я ничего не трогал — все продолжая защищаться одним и тем же ответом, Дрим выставил ладони перед собой.

— Не ври!!! Когда я пришел ты здесь шарился в шкафчиках, а на столе уже стоял пустой поднос. Как ты мне это объяснишь?

— Во-первых, я пришел, и все было таким — светлоглазый скелет пытался унять неожиданный пыл своего брата. — Во-вторых, о чем ты говоришь? И... почему тебя это так разозлило?

— Агх, я принес всем вкусняшки... Или ты не видел, когда мы собирались? — глубоко выдохнул Найтмер. — Поставил все на поднос, но специально для себя отложил один на другую тарелку и поставил там, где точно не возьмут. — он указал на кухонный стол позади, где находился выше указанный элемент посуды. — Было 99 чокопаев и один мой: в итоге — 100! И всех их нет! Что ты можешь на это сказать, брат?

— Ох, Найти, не знаю. Я даже не смотр��л в ту сторону.

— Но куда же они могли просто так деться? Столько...

На мгновение Найтмер остановился и задумалась, его злость стихла. Он отошел к стене и сел в небольшое кресло, приложив палец к подбородку и подняв взор к потолку. Дрим решил присоединится к обдумыванию этой ситуации и присел в кресло, находящееся рядом. Но, к сожалению, ни единая мысль не приходила в их черепушки. Конечно же, как такое могло произойти? Просто невозможно, чтобы такое большое количество в раз и исчезло! Найтмер от отчаяния найти разгадку на эту тайну вздохнул и слегка поник: неправильно он поступил, накричав на Дрима. Ведь его брат в ничем не виноват, а он, поспешив с выводами, обругал его так. Нужно бы извинится. Он повернулся к нему, собираясь сказать это, но зацепился взглядом за кое-что другое и остановился, даже не начав.

Как раз в коридоре проходил другой скелет, его глазницы были полыми и еле заметные черные потеки виднелись на скулах под ними. Он жадно облизывал кости пальцев и собирался идти в свою комнату, как на него налетел Найтмер. Тот ошалело смотрел на него, и Киллер совсем не понимал значения взгляда этого чудика.

— Что такое... Найтмер?

— Это ты! — закричал ему прямо в несуществующие уши скелет с фиолетовыми глазами.

Сразу же после Найтмера подбежал и Дрим. Он обеспокоенно начал оттаскивать крепко зацепившегося за чужие плечи брата, бурча что-то про наступление на одни и те же грабли. Старший близнец все же немного успокоился, и оба скелета вместе с Киллером вернулись к креслам. Братья разместились на сидениях, а последний продолжил стоять рядом, все ещё не вникая в происходящее. В чем же была проблема?

— А что в общем-то случилось? — все-таки задал терзающий его вопрос Киллер, скрестив руки на груди и наклонив голову на бок.

— Да просто Найтмер взбесился от того, что кто-то съел 100 чокопаев, среди которых был и его, специально отложенный! — не церемонясь, заявил младший близнец. На такое объяснение ситуации Найтмер слегка нахмурился: манера, с которой оно было произнесено, ему не понравилась.

— Да потому что ты явно чем-то полакомился... Вон! Как улыбался и пальцы свои слюнявил!

Киллер спокойно отреагировал на такое язвительное высказывание.

— Ах, это... — он с хитрой ухмылкой ещё раз лизнул все ещё сладкий палец. — Мы с Чино игрались.

— Что?! Без меня? — Найтмер чуть не грохнулся с кресла и, подскочив с места, хотел было возмутится, но осекся и, слегка покраснев, нервно глянул на Дрима. Прокашлявшись, продолжил: — То есть... Прекрати без делу шататься!

— Ох! А знаете что? — тут же как в ничем не бывало воскликнул пустоглазый, совсем не обратив внимание на смущение Найта. Братья посмотрели на него, как будто внимательно слушают, ожидая, когда тот продолжит. — Нам нужно кое-что проверить! Иде��те.

Вел их Киллер долго и нудно по множеству коридоров. И куда же? Они остановились у одной гримерки, и их любимый проводник, который завел попутчиков в дебри не пойми куда, постучался в дверь. Не услышав оттуда отклика, он радостно открыл её. Пройдя чуть вовнутрь и, попутно оглядываясь на всякий случай, Киллер жестом пригласил болванчиков на ножка войти.

Оказавшись в комнате, братья не знали, чего ожидать дальше от чуда без юбки, поэтому просто наблюдали за его действиями. А тот быстро и верно ринулся вперед к какой-то картине, на которой были изображены персики и маргаритки, и протянул к ней руки. Ох, какой же шок и удивление было на лицах Дрима и Найтмера, когда они увидели, что находилось за прекрасным “шедевром”. И им даже показалось, что у Киллера в тот момент на лбу можно было прочесть: “Я могу вечность смотреть на вас, и это мне никогда не надоест!”.

— Тсс! Это секрет — заговорщицки прислонил палец ко рту тот.

— Это что?! Сейф? — сразу же крикнул Найтмер, но потом снизил тон, как бы поймав этот вайб секретов и заговоров. — Что там?

— Сейчас открою, и узнаете! — радостно вымолвил главный “заговорщик”.

— У тебя есть код? — удивился Дрим.

— Ага, а как же ты думал? Я ведь его поставил — хмыкнул тот в ответ, набирая цифры на дисплее.

Когда прибор пиликнул, уведомляя о верности введенной последовательности, Киллер отворил дверцу и повернулся к присутствующим с торжественным “Та-да!”. Не услышав оваций или хотя бы каких-то охов-ахов, он застопорился и повернулся к сейфу, войдя в ступор вот окончательно. Пусто... Там было...

— Пусто! — он закричал с трагическим тоном и повис на железном чудовище. Ещё бы чуть-чуть и заплакал, но его тут остановили с расспросами.

— И что же здесь должно было быть, умник? — спросил Найт, видимо, довольный его страданиями.

— Там... — "Королева драмы” шмыгнул носом и потер глазницу. — Должны были быть мои припрятанные на черный день шоколадки.

— Припрятанные, говоришь? — Найтмер нахмурился, подошел ближе к Киллеру и потянул на себя, страшно заглядывая прямо в пустоту глазниц того.

— Ну-ну, Найти, отпусти беднягу — сюсюкаясь, ласково пропел его брат, коснувшись чужого плеча. — Он ведь пострадавший. Так же, как и мы. Потерял... — Дрим тоже сделал чересчур драматический вид. — ...Свою прелесть!

Найтмер страдательно и измученно простонал и отпустил бедного “щеночка”. Они пошли обратно: к месту, где произошло первое происшествие. По пути Дрим и Киллер так ржали, что казалось — их можно было услышать и за 100 километров! Просто невыносимо... для Найтмера! Добравшись до нужного места, трое детективов уселись за столом, задумавшись о “Деле пропажи сладкого сокровища”. Название, которое дал Киллер. А эта картина, которая нарисована неизвестным творцом, называется “Трое рыцарей за столом с крошками убитых пироженок”. Ещё одна Киллеровская шутка. 

Сидели они и сидели, пока настенные часы тикали. Но так ничего в их головы не приходило: ни одна дельная мысль, ни одно предположение. Это так огорчало. Ведь сама ситуация была необычна: сильно озадачивала и не позволяла верить в её существование. Так какой в этом толк? Продолжать размышлять над этим? Дрим вот все последнее время думал лишь над этими вопросами. Ему, если честно, это было неинтересно, так, к тому же, ещё так много дел. Но кое-что все-таки держало его: причина такой одержимости брата за это. Он хотел в этом разобраться. Почему Найтмер так вспылил? Почему продолжал бесится? Почему это важно для него? Это все так сложно... Дрим вздохнул и прилег на локти, расположившись на столе. В сон потянуло, но не успел он прикрыть даже глаза, как кто-то коснулся плеч.

— Дрим, ты не видел мой шоколадный сок? — скелет обернулся и похлопав глазками, встретился с знакомым и любимым лицом. Кросс некоторое время стоял и смотрел на него, но потом отвернулся и пошел к мусорке у стены. — Может быть он где-то здесь?

— Кросс, не ройся в мусоре! — подорвался с места Дрим. — Руки потом...

— Нашел! — воскликнул радостно скелет, вытаскивая из пластикового контейнера коробочку из-под какого-то напитка. Он шустро встал с колен и прямо сияя подошел обратно к сборищу.

— Кросс, ты же не будешь пить... из этого? — недовольно скрестил руки на груди желтоглазый скелет.

— Аах... Там уже ничего нет — расстроенно выдохнул Кросс, обернувшись к остальным. — А, кстати, что вы тут делаете?

— К твоему сведению, помойная крыса... — шутливо начал Киллер.

— Какая крыса? — возмущенно стукнул ладонью о стол перед наглым скелетом Кросс.

— Так значит с “помойная” ты согласен? — не унимался тот, на что получил злой взгляд со стороны Найтмера:

— Кончайте тут... обзывательствами бросаться! Мешаете думать...

— А о чем вы думаете? — поинтересовался снова Кросс, садясь на стул.

— Просто тут у нас кое-что пропало... а то есть, перечисляю: 100 чокопаев, которые принес Найтмер, и черный запас шоколада Киллера — объяснил милому младший близнец, ласково пропев каждое слово. 

— Хм... — задумался разноглазый. — А знаете? У меня произошло кое-что похожее.

— В каком смысле?

— Смотрите... — он поставил на стол пустую коробочку, на это Дрим немножко нахмурился, но потом расслабился, решив не показывать свое недовольство на грязь. — Я был занят своими делами, попутно употребляя мой сок. На минуту отвернулся и... хоба! Он пропал.

Теперь к их команде присоединился четвертый. Но даже с дополнительной силой ничего не выходило, а время шло. Что-что, а это остановить нельзя, как и выбраться из этой паутины проблемы. За окном виднелось уже пестрое оранжево-красное небо — вечереет. Представите себе, они потратили почти пол дня на это! Невообразимо! Так ещё пришли к ничему... Это худшие из всего. Все, кроме Найтмера, встали и решили пойти уже по домам. Дрим остановился, ожидая брата, который продолжал сидеть и испепелять деревянную поверхность пронзительным взглядом сосредоточенности.

— Найти, пошли домой, уже поздно. Ну чего тебе это? Оно уже произошло и все... — он коснулся плеч старшего, пытаясь достучаться до него и побудить бросить это.

— Есть идея! — Неожиданно Найтмер подскочил и воскликнул, привлекая к себе внимание всех. — Останемся здесь и устроим ловушку на воришку-сладкоежку!

Киллер и Кросс начали переглядываться, а потом ожидающе посмотрели на Дрима, стоящего позади Найтмера. Поймав их взгляды, тот вздохнул и жестом как бы показал, что выбора нет. Братик слишком увлекся, вот и все.

~~~

   Ветер дует, слышно его завывание... Кто-то не закрыл окно или стены здесь такие тонкие? По правде говоря, в такое позднее время помещения в студии выглядят страшновато, а странный шорох и лунный синий свет создает атмосферу какого-то фильма ужасов или вампирской романтики. И все-таки зачем они это затеяли? А вдруг что-то плохое случится? Кросс не понимал всего этого, как и то, зачем он в это ввязался. Но делать нечего, лишь вдохи расслабляют.

— Но я предупреждаю! — кажется вся мрачность окружения никак не привлекала Киллера, или же он просто игнорировал настороженность других участников их задумки. — Это последняя шоколадка, что у меня есть, поэтому ты, Найтмер, должен будешь мне ещё одну...

— Да, да, да... — но чужая наглость совсем не задевала. Найтмер и так был занят, расставляя инвентарь для самодельной ловушки, а отвлекаться было не в его приоритетах.

— И коробку конфет за моральный ущерб! — скрестил руки на груди Киллер так, как будто он какая-то обиженная дама высшего общества. На это послышался лишь длинный выдох, а Найтмер, поднявшись и скрестив руки так же, как и другой скелет, закатил глаза, а потом вымолвил:

— Все, что прикажите, госпожа.

На такое обращение выше названная “Королева” встал в ступор и, покачавшись на ступнях взад вперед, отвернулся, скрывая стыдо-срамский румянец. Ох, какой же он бесстыжий! И Найтмер тоже дал жару: все ещё не догадывается насколько он иногда двусмысленно говорит! Но ничего, Киллер знает, что он сделает потом... А сейчас нужно утолить желание Кошмарчика по поимки неизвестного. Тот как раз уже закончил и подошел рассказывать план:

— Киллер положит туда приманку, а мы по очереди будем дежурить, поняли?

Получив согласие в виде кивков, Найтмер направился к выходу в коридор. На вопрос Киллера, куда тот идет, скелет махнул рукой, показывая, что не его любопытного носа дела. Фыркнув на это, Киллер вернулся к остальным и присоединился, присаживаясь за баррикадой из кресел.

Время шло долго, в пустоте комнаты тиканье часов раздавалось очень ярко и отчетливо, даже раздражало. Ничего совсем не происходило. Ничегошеньки! Киллер повернулся к своим напарникам и нахмурился. Те уже успели задремать, примостившись друг у друга под боками. Что за бездельники! Он вздохнул... Ведь верно: все это дело изначально было бессмысленным. Они просто не могут найти того, кто совершил все злодеяния. И ещё одна странная вещь... Найтмер так и не пришел. И куда же наш командир подевался? Разве это не было для него таким важным? Скелет поднялся с пола и потянулся, разминая кости рук.

Он так устал, а пока не вернется Найтмер уйти нет возможности: некрасиво как-то выйдет. Киллер глянул на ловушку и прикрыл рот, готовый зевнуть.

— Даже если никто не заявится, он будет должен мне ещё од...

Не успев даже вдохнуть, скелет вздрогнул и слегка поперхнулся. На мгновение ему показалось, что он видел чью-ту фигуру. Приведя себя в более-менее спокойствие, Киллер поспешил разбудить двух спящих “котят”.

— Аагх! Киллер, договорились же: ты дежуришь первым, а мы — потом! — недовольно ворчал Кросс, стараясь не слишком повышать тон, чтобы не напугать Дрима.

— Но это важно!

— Твои шутки не могут быть важными...

— Кросс, хватит... — чуть потирая правую глазницу и зевая, просипел Дрим. — Может это действительно важно. Что такое, Киллер?

— Мне кажется, что я кого-то видел.

— Если кажется, иди к окулисту — встрял Кросс, прищурившись.

— Но это правда! Мы здесь одни и никто больше не может быть, это нервирует. А ещё... — следующие слова скелет так пробубнил, что их невозможно было разобрать. — Найтмер куда-то ушел и так и не вернулся.

— Так, успокойтесь оба — попытался охладить ребят Дрим, а потом, расценочно осмотревшись, продолжил: — Давайте посмотрим, взял ли наш “незваный гость” сладкую наживку.

Кросс не хотел в это верить, но по ходу Киллер был прав, что в здании находится посторонний: шоколадки на столике не было. Ну и что же им делать дальше? Ведь, по всей видимости, они уже упустили “преступника”. Но была ещё одна загвоздка...

— Чего то братик все ещё не возвращается — тихо и печально проговорил скелет с желтыми глазами, которые под светом луны сверкнули золотистым оттенком.

— Я, кстати, тоже об этом думал... — развел руки и покачал головой Киллер.

— Так как он все это затеял, то будем выяснять дальнейшие действия лишь у него — изрек Кросс, облокотившись о стол. — Пойдемте его искать...

Согласившись с этой идеей, они вышли в коридор. Это был долгий и страшный путь. Здесь было намного темнее, чем в той комнате. Кажется слышен не только ветер, но и шорох и какой-то скрежет. Это начало напрягать не только Кросса, которому с самого начало было дискомфортно находится здесь, но и Дрима. Тот прижимался к другому скелету ещё крепче, и, даже не смотря на обстоятельства, у разноглазого это вызывало некие теплые ощущения внутри и слабый румянец на щеках.

Внезапный звон разбитого стекла заставил скелетов вздрогнуть и обратить на себя внимание. Они поспешили выяснить, что там происходит, и застыли, завернув за угол. Там была фигура, стоящая неподалеку от лежащих на полу осколков вазы. Она казалось знакомой, но... Кто же это может быть? Прищурившись, Киллер первым догадался:

— Найтмер!!! — из закрывающие окно шторы проклюнулись лучики голубоватого света, озаряющего половину вышеназванного скелета. — ��то ты делаешь?

Пустоглазый скелет подошел ближе и коснулся чужого плеча. Найтмер вздрогнул, роняя что-то из рук, и медленно повернул голову, взглянув в лицо друга с таким видом, как будто только недавно проснулся. Это очень сильно удивило другого скелета, поэтому он наклонил голову в бок, ожидая ответов, но, так и не дождавшись ничего, обратил внимание на предмет, который лежал на полу. Киллер наклонился и взял это в руки. Присмотревшись, он смог определить, что это... как неудивительно, шоколадка! И не просто какая-нибудь, а та самая! Киллер был уверен. Но он никак не мог понять, что это может значить.

Дрим и Кросс тоже ничего не понимали. Они подошли вместе с Киллером, но все это время только молчали. Все находились в таком замешательстве, что даже не знали, что и сказать. Даже сам Найтмер был в шоке.

— Найти... — через некоторое время тихо вымолвил его брат, привлекая к себе внимание. — Так ты лунатик? Я раньше не замечал...

— Я... Я... — он метался взглядом по темному помещению и теребил фаланги пальцев. — Даже не знаю, что и сказать, ребята...

— Так может это ты все сделал? — подал голос Киллер, поднимаясь с пола и продолжая держать плитку сладости в руке. На его слова фиолетовоглазый скелет виновато опустил голову. Но, кажется, ��ругому скелету этого было недостаточно, поэтому он решил перечислить все совершенные преступления: - Ты собственнолично съел все чокопаи, которые сам же и принес. Ты съел мой запас шоколада. Ты выпил сок Кросса. И самое страшное: ты обвинил в этом всех, даже собственного брата!

— Мне жаль! Действительно — воскликнул пристыженный и униженный до самого дна скелет. — Я хотел извинится перед Дримом, но! Сбился на тебя. Простите, я действительно не знаю, что на меня нашло!

— Ничего, братик — вмешался Дрим, успокаивающе обнимая того. — Я не злюсь. Наверное... ты просто переутомился. И, возможно, от этого ты и лунатишь. Я же говорил: не перенапрягайся.

И вот: разгадка этой тайны пришла. Можно уже идти домой, но не тут то было! Была одна вещь, которая совсем не связывалась со всеми фактами...

— А все же, Киллер, ты в кое-чем не прав — задумчиво протянул Кросс, приложив палец к подбородку, пялился на носки своей обуви.

— Хм, и в чем же? — хмыкнул тот, упершись руками в бока.

— Может Найтмер и съел чокопаи и выпил мой сок, но он никак не мог взломать сейф, будучи в бессознательном состоянии. Что-то не складывается.

— Но кто же мо...

Неожиданно какое-то шуршание отвлекло Киллера, не дав закончить вопрос. Послышался скрежет и странный урчащий звук. Это привлекло всех остальных: повернувшись, они уставились в темноту, покрывающую другую половину комнаты. Что-то сверкнуло в глубине, а настораживающие звуки усилились. Скелеты шагнули назад, скопившись в одну кучу и прижавшись к друг другу. Страшные огоньки напоминали глаза какого-то существа. Что же это может быть? Оно приближалось, заставляя их в страхе отступать ближе к повороту. Ещё чуть-чуть и можно будет узнать, что скрывалось в черной мгле. Последний клацающий шаг и...

— Мяу!

Компания завопила и помчалась прочь. Не оборачиваясь, они с позором ушли от опасности. А разве в этом была опасность? Это просто милый маленький котеночек. Может быть такая мрачная атмосфера позволила их фантазии разыграться? Никто не может знать наверняка. И неужели это и вправду конец?

— Эй, ребята? А что вы тут делали? — скелет в бежевом свитере, мило улыбаясь под лунным светом, поднимал белую кошку.

Это, конечно, был неожиданный поворот. Но разве это не мы должны задавать этот вопрос, Чино? Ведь они так и не узнают об этом. Так же, как и не узнают, что же их напугало в ту ночь. Это касается и того... Так кто же съел шоколад Киллера? Правда, в этой истории было много вопросов. И вы можете подумать, что узнали ответы на всех них, но нет. Это ошибочное предположение.

Это то, на что ответа нет. Так как эти все загадки должны оставаться неразгаданными. И только вы сами поймете, что истина, а что - ложь. Вы сами решаете, как ответить.

Продолжение следует...

[todomitoukei]

Is it really true if u want to say Dabi's bday in japanese u only have to say his name which is Touya? :0

Yes and no.

Dabi’s birthday is listed as January 18.

If you want to say your birthday in Japanese you go by Year/Month/Day. In Dabi’s case, it would be 1月 (ichi-gatsu) 18日 (juuhachi-nichi). As you can see, no sign of Touya here!

Japanese numerals have two different pronunciations, though: the native Japanese pronunciation and the Chinese one.

For the 18th day of the month - aka Dabi’s birthday - you use the Chinese reading of the Kanji for the numbers ten and eight. Eight is 八 (hachi) and ten is 十 (juu).

The Japanese numbers, on the other hand, all end in つ (tsu) with the exception of the number ten. Eight is 八つ (yattsu) and ten is 十 (tou). So if we go by these readings and put them together as ten and eight - without the added tsu - we end up with the reading tou and ya - Touya.

So no, if you were to say his birthday the number wouldn’t be pronounced as touya but as juuhachi. However, because the Japanese readings for the Kanji ten and eight are tou and ya, I’m pretty sure Horikoshi chose that specific day as a little hint, similar to how the character names also all have meanings.

[potahun]

Some more Qin Shen Shen moments translations (Part 11/?)

 2020 S2 Reunion Edition 2/?

Link to other translations so far.

a. S2E10: After Zhang Xin Zhe and Tai Yi’s performance of “Gun Gun Hong Chen | Rolling Red Ashes” by Sarah Chen:

MC: With two men singing this song, what kind of feeling has this performance brought us? Let’s start by hearing from the ones with the least pressure: Qin Shen Shen. 

ZS and LKQ just wordlessly point at each other, each waiting for the other to speak first. 

Unsurprisingly, LKQ gives in first.

LKQ, picking up his mic: It’s very good. (ZS laughs) Um...so first of all, it’s a  really iconic song. And regarding the brand-new arrangement, I just have to look at Shi Tou next door going *imitates Chang Shi Lei’s waving dance during the song* to know that the arrangement was really, really good. And...of course, Zhe Ge, I have nothing more to say: I - I - I’ve been listening to your songs since I was small. *rubs knees* (ZS burst out laughing)

ZXZ, laughing at LKQ: Don’t use that on me!

ZS (to LKQ): Hey, why steal my line? 

LKQ: *starts singing a few lines from one of ZXZ’s song* (to MC) When I go to KTV, I sing his songs. (ZS makes a shocked face) Yeah. *sings some more* Really! Really! So as soon as I heard his voice, I was just...whoaaa...

ZS, nodding: Just right.

LKQ: And Tai Yi is just...First off, the impression he gave me, just through watching a show like “Wo Men De Ge”, is that he doesn’t talk a lot. But as soon as he picked up that instrument, the imposing air came on immediately. *suddenly looks at ZS* Am I right? (ZS: Yeah!) Eh. Talk a little.

ZS: Oh, I just think...because earlier on, Teacher A Zhe very courteously said that we (QSS) are a group coming from legends, but actually, it’s his voice and his person (LKQ: Right) that have consistently existed in the legends I’ve heard. Yeah, because I think it’s the first time I hear Teacher A Zhe’s live. So as soon as he opened his mouth I was just *gasps before singing* I love you~~ *laughs* Instantly, all the images - including from cartoons and dramas I’d watched, cassettes and CDs I listened to - all those memories came back. It’s a uniqueness that cannot be replaced. 

ZXZ: Thank you.

ZS: I also want to talk about Tai Yi. *imitates TY’s usual brevity* Very good! *puts down mic* (ZXZ: *laughs*. TY: ....Ok.)

MC, correcting: It should be *imitates TY’s talking style* “The... ...you sang is...”

LKQ pushes ZS’s shoulder. 

ZS: Oh, OK! (to MC) Ask me to comment on Tai Yi. (MC complies and asks again) *forcefully articulates each syllable* Rolling Red Ashes is very good.

TY, hesitating: Should...I reply?

ZS, squawking: I’m not listening!!

(...)

When asked to comment on the same performance, WY gives a very wordy and elaborate explanation as to why he always felt sleepy when he listens to ZXZ’s voice, and how it’s because his voice reminds him of the peaceful sounds he listens to before sleeping, like flowing water, and TY’s voice is like sand lifted by the wind etc etc.

LKQ (to ZS): Lo...look at how nicely he’s speaking! (i.e. learn from it!)

ZS, at a loss for words: I...I also miss my bashful days ;;;. *chuckles*

b. S2E10: After Wang Yuan and Chang Shi Lei’s performance of “A Bloody Love Story”. The other artists are asked to comment:

RZE, struggling a little to pronounce the word: I was left “speechless”. (...)

ZS: I have something to say. Just, after listening to teacher Zu Er talk, I think, teacher Keqin... *turns to sing to him* “You Are Not Alone~"

LKQ, a little miffed, cross-legged and staring at him sassily: So you’re saying right now that our Mandarin is very ordinary, aren’t you?

ZS: I am saying that I can just feel that your relationship is very good.

RZE: Did I say “speechless” wrong?

ZS, being a little shit and imitating her, while LKQ continues to stare at him: It’s very correct~~

RZE, being a very good sport: Thank you~~

ZS: Alright, teacher Keqin, you comment first.

LKQ, still extremely sassy: You talk first.

ZS: No, no, because teacher Keqin kept on talking next to me-- (LKQ, sassily to ZS: I’m very angry, you can talk first) *laughs and holds onto his arm* he kept on talking about the arrangement, (to LKQ) I know you have a lot to say.

LKQ, instantly recovered: No, I just felt like I watched a musical. There was everything. And there’s another point I want to talk about, it’s that...perhaps some of the audience don’t know, but every week we have to prepare 3 songs for this show. Last year, when I came to this show, every week I had a really, really bad headache. (ZS instantly giggles like a little shit because LKQ’s intonation on the “ache” was incorrect - “tou2 teng4″ instead of “tou2 tong4″ or “tou2 teng2″ ) Picking songs.... and then thinking about what to do with it...

CSL, whispering to WY: Our heads never really hurt (tou2 teng2), huh? (WY: He said “tou2 teng4″)

LKQ, continuing while ZS is still holding his laughter: It’s just...a lot of hassle, and a lot of struggle (ZS giggles again because he says “zhou1 jie2″ instead of “jiu1 jie2″ for struggle) But when I look at your performance today, there was really everything. And also, you performed really well. (ZS laughs once again because he pronounces “perform” as “biu yan3” instead of “biao3 yan3”) I was watching Shi Tou’s expression when he was singing, and he had acting in it. (ZS, agreeing: He was very much engrossed in it) It wasn’t just carefree singing, he was going *imitates CSL’s dancing and expressions, making ZS laugh* He had acting in it! And I also saw Wang Yuan. Um. I’ve seen you dance when you were in your group. This is the first time I’ve seen you dance alone. I can feel the efforts you’ve put in. Really. (WY: Thank you, teacher Keqin, thank you)

MC: You were just saying that they had everything, but let me correct you. There’s one thing they didn’t have. (ZS: What?) Dry ice. 

LKQ: Haaaa!

WY: We did! We did! There was dry ice in the beginning!

ZS, instantly: Do you have to fight over this too? Can’t we even have dry ice???

LKQ (to ZS): Dry ice prince. Come on, talk.

ZS: No, it’s just, first off, “Fei Chang Yuan Man”. I knew they’d be good, because Shi Tou is a very good producer. But what surprised me more is that, based on our earlier chat, it seems that this song was written - uh chosen by Yuan. You chose it, didn’t you?

WY confirms but says CSL is indeed the one who is really good, and explains something about the lyrics that CSL has modified to give it more story.

ZS: He (WY) is just being polite/modest. Actually, he was really good.

CSL: Yeah, well, he has to be polite/modest until the end, right? Otherwise, we’d have been polite/modest for nothing in the first half. *laughs*

c. S2E10: After Rong Zu Er and Xilinnayi Gao’s performance. Xilinnayi Gao says something about how she will look back on the memories of “Wo Men De Ge” fondly and that coming to this show will be a beautiful memory.

ZS: Actually, my feeling is the same. Namely, that it’s “beautiful”. Because, truthfully speaking, everyone’s lives nowadays are very busy, or tiring, or something else...It’s very hard to find a sense of security. But through our show, it’s two generations of singers who, through music, get to know each other, and will start to exchange this feeling of security with each other. Just now, when I turned around, and I found teacher A Zhe and Tai Yi, both quietly listening like this...and then you’d see this group (Chang Shi Lei and Wang Yuan), when I saw them, they were both listening with their eyes closed... You’ll find that they gradually feel more and more secure with regard to each other. I think that’s the charm of “Wo Men De Ge”.

CSL (to ZS): I also congratulate you very much on having found your sense of security. (ZS laughs) Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to say those words...

ZS: So earlier on I was looking at that group there on stage and thinking, ohh! How wonderful! Looking over there at you guys and thinking ohh!  and then looking over here (at LKQ) and thinking... *clicks tongue* “....what are you doing??” 

ZS laughs, while LKQ grabs him by the arm. 

ZS, sassily and using the polite form of “you” to LKQ: It’s your turn to speak now. 

LKQ: I think..... um....

CSL: ....that being with Zhou Shen brings you no feeling of security? (ZS laughs)

LKQ: Actually, it’s been a very long time since I last saw Zu Er. Last time I saw you, I think it was at your concert last year. I feel like you’ve grown over the last year. When I was doing concerts with her, I felt like I was the big brother, and she the little sister, that kind of feeling. But now, when I see you today with Xilin, there’s a feeling of “ah, I am the elder sister, I have to look after her, I have to...” Whether it’s about the sound, or the looks, everything........it’s like me and Zhou Shen. *leans meaningfully towards ZS while the latter backs away*

LKQ, protesting at ZS’s denial: Hey!!

ZS, laughing: Alright! It’s about time that I cooperate with you. (LKQ: That’s right!)

LKQ (to RZE again): I feel like you’ve really grown up now.

d. About Qin Shen Shen’s performance of “Fu Shi Shan Xia | Under Mount Fuji”.

LKQ (about ZS): I told him, “ey, actually, that song, I already sang it before (on Masked Singer). What do you think?” (and he replied) “No worries, no worries, we can sing it differently, as a duet”. Ok, ok. So I thought we were going to sing it in Mandarin. But he kept up with the Cantonese.

ZS, standing up to bow to RZE: Teacher Zu Er, later when I sing in Cantonese, please be lenient on me.

e. About Qin Shen Shen’s “Fu Shi Shan Xia | Under Mount Fuji” - post-performance:

XLNYG, immediately after the song ends: They match so well!

MC: Let’s hear everyone’s thoughts fresh out of the pan. As to Yuan, I already read it on his lips when the song ended: “They sing too well!” Right?

WY, confirming: Six words. “Qin Shen Shen are crazy people”. (QSS laughs) They’re too...... *can’t finish the sentence and just does a thumbs up*

MC: Wang Yuan has six words. Let’s see how many Tai Yi has.

TY, counting on his fingers: *decisively* Seven. “I want to go to that place” (Mt Fuji). Because...because... after listening to it, I really found it very romantic. Because I’ve never been there...I...I’ll definitely go there. And when I go there, I’ll put on the version of this song that you sang, and I’ll listen to it on the mountain. Thank you. 

Qin Shen Shen, bowing: Thank you, thank you.

LKQ: When you buy your plane tickets, please invite me and I’ll sing it for you there. 

ZS, correcting the pronunciation: Plane tickets ( “fei ji piao” instead of “fei ji piu”, but honestly, it’s fairly imperceptible)

MC: Zhe Ge.

ZXZ: What else is there to say about this? *points at QSS* It’s just like the tales from underground, taking place over there.

ZS takes the opportunity to thank ZXZ for helping him, I guess, advertise a song in another show. He sings a few lines of the song at issue, and ZXZ replies with the title: “Wo Shi Zhen De Ai Ni | I really love you”.

MC (to ZXZ): I thought you’d sing a few lines with him.

ZXZ: Huh? No, I already knew there’d be a trap like this. I won’t fall into this kind of trap again!

ZS: No, no, who knows, maybe in the third season of “Wo Men De Ge”, *looks intently at LKQ and stresses the words* I’ll get an opportunity to sing a duet with teacher A Zhe!!

LKQ (to ZS): What do you mean by that?

ZS, holding his arm: No, no, I have no such intention. *bows* Thank you teacher A Zhe.

MC: Xilinnayi, this kind of Cantonese, does it put any pressure on you for your upcoming song?

XLNYG: I was looking at the lyrics earlier on (for ZS), and it only had the characters, no alphabetical letters (pin yin).

MC: So will your screen have alphabetical letters?

XLNYG: Ummm.

ZS: It’s really no big deal (to have pin yin)! Because Cantonese seriously is HARD. (LKQ: Yeah)

XLNYG: Yeah, when you look at the characters only, you wouldn’t be able to guess that it’s pronounced a certain way.

ZS: Yeah, people can’t imagine how hard Cantonese is. 

LKQ (to ZS): We get it, Cantonese is hard, you already sang it really well. 

ZS, laughing: No, I actually sang it wrong at the beginning just now.

WY: This is already Versailles.

ZS: It’s not...!

ZS helplessly tilts his head to the side and LKQ playfully knocks into his shoulder.

MC, referring to RZE: And here comes another very certified Cantonese teacher.

ZS, probably trying to make up for his jokes earlier: Teacher Zu Er, you’re seriously beautiful. Teacher Zu Er, I really like you.

RZE, smiling: ................Very good! (ZS, laughing: Well-received!) One male singer’s song, and they could make such a seamless collaboration out of it, I find that really awesome. (ZS makes a thanking motion with his hands) And I think the degree to which their two voices match, their reputation is not just baseless rumors. 

ZS: Thank you teacher Zu Er. (RZE: Is my mandarin still okay?) It’s GREAT. 

LKQ (to RZE): Hey, how come you grew up but your Mandarin became....

RZE: I am working hard.

ZS (to LKQ): Actually, no! I think teacher Zu Er’s.......... Mandarin *looks at LKQ* is.....why am I digging this hole for myself? (LKQ starts to stare at him) *finishes while looking at LKQ*........is better than Keqin’s. *laughs*

[iguessitsaveryswitings]

Peaches - Section 1: Act 3

Peaches is an original work by ‘iguessitsavery’, also known as Avery. All characters and events in this work are fictional, no matter if they may resemble real life people or events. All rights reserved. Copyright 2021

Previous Chapter  -  Next Chapter

Section 1: Act 3

Sona groaned as he dragged his feet through the dirt, dust picking up behind him. “Pick up your feet,” Shinosu barked, not looking away from their list, mumbling under their breath. Sona had decided to accompany Shinosu on their weekly market trip, expecting some exciting adventure, but instead was met with the bore of shopping.

Shinosu took a step towards a new stand, this one selling another ingredient they had needed for dinner. Sona dragged himself behind his friend, peering over to look a what this one was selling. Bone- broth? He had no clue what it was, and just by the name alone, it sounded gross. He gagged a bit, earning himself a swat against the back of his head from Shinosu, telling him to quit.

He shooed their hand away, readjusting his hair, before crossing his arms. “This is borin’! Why can’t we go ‘n do somethin’?” Sona whined, exaggerating himself with his arms to try and get his point across. Shinosu paid no attention to him, instead, arguing with the salesman about how his items were far overpriced.

Sona’s ears flapped against his head in annoyment, he wanted to do something, anything that wasn’t this. With a huff, he turned on his heel and began to make his own exploration around the market. He passed by a number of people who cast him glares and judging stares, immediately trying to get themselves out of his vicinity like he was ill.

He came across a paper nailed to a post, the drawings on it easily capturing his attention. He reached up high, tearing the paper from the nail and taking a look at the poster. From the drawings, it showed to people fighting with swords, an arena behind them with large words printed under them.

“Du-duel-ing, dueling. Tou-t-tour-na-ment, tournament. Dueling Tournament!” Sona’s ears flapped happily as he pronounced the words correctly. He barely knew how to read, so he was happy with himself at the small accomplishment. He couldn’t read the rest of the words, as there were too many and he didn’t understand them, but he did know what a duel was.

As he turned to run back to Shinosu, said person was walking in his direction, shoulders stiffened as they laid their eyes on the child. “The hell you been?” They asked, making quick strides over to the boy and grabbing him by the hand. “You know what they do to hybrids like you, you coulda’ been killed, boy!”

“I found ‘is poster!” He exclaimed, not fazed by how Shinosu was hastily dragging them out of the market, earning a few glances from passerby’s. Shinosu groaned as they finally exited the market, the boy’s hand held in their own. They turned towards the boy, dropping down to eye level with him. “You’re a hybrid, not a god. N’ what, what the hell you mean poster?”

With a smile, Sona handed over the poster he had snatched a few minutes prior, earning another groan from his friend. “You-you can’t be stealin’ things from the town, boy.” “Wasn’ stealin’! Jus’-jus’ borrowin’! I swear it!” SHinosu stood up again, handing the paper back to the boy and taking his hand in theirs as they began to walk in the opposite direction of the town.

“Where we goin’?” Sona asked, looking up at Shinosu as they began to make their way down another dirt road. “My place.” Sona opted to be quiet during the walk there, nothing to be heard but the sound of their footsteps and the clanking of glass in Shinosu’s bag. Shinosu much preferred the silence, opposed to Sona’s constant games of ‘20 questions’ or ‘how long can I talk before Shinosu hits me’. The walk back home was peaceful for them, the place they called home slowly coming into view between the trees.

Large fields of wheat found themselves on either side of the dirt path, Sona’s ears twitching as his head snapped from left to right, observing the area. He had never been near Shinosu’s property before, he was taking in every little thing he saw. He noted especially the scarecrow that had looked worm down and beaten in the center of the field.

In front of them laid a worn-down lighthouse, most of the windows boarded up, vines crawling up the sides, and the strong smell of the ocean wafting into Sona’s nose. He gagged again, covering his nose as he groaned, earning a chuckle from Shinsou at his misery.

The pair stepped onto the porch of the house, Shinosu quickly swinging it open as the boy ran inside. Immediately he ran over to the kitchen, climbing clumsily onto one of the stools against the counter. Shinosu sighed as they closed the door behind them, making their way over to the kitchen and setting their bag onto the counter.

As they picked out their ingredients for dinner, Sona looked around, his mouth slightly open as he admired the place. From where he sat, he could see all of the first floor. Behind his was a large bookshelf, filled up with books of all sizes. To his right was a small dining table and two chairs, both made out of wood. Could they be hand-carved?

In the far corner next to the table sat another bookshelf, this one much more empty than the one behind him, only a few rows of it filled. There was a red rug on the floor below it, and in the final corner sat a few pillows and an open book. Sona debated whether or not to get a closer look at the room, but was stopped when Shinosu started talking to him.

“Hope you like stew, m’not makin’ you anythin’ else.” His eyes widened as he focused his attention back on them, watching as they poured the bone broth they had bought earlier into a bot above the fire. “‘l eat anythin’!” He said hastily, propping himself on his hand to get a better look at the food. A mix of vegetables and meats sat in the broth and Shinosu slowly stirred the mixture, putting a pot on it to let it cook.

They turned around, focusing their attention solely on Sona, at least, that’s what he thought. He could never tell Shinosu’s emotions or feelings thanks to the mask they donned. It frustrated him.

“This place ‘s nice, you live here by yourself?” They nodded, making Sona smile wide, opening his mouth to say an idea but was quickly shut down as Shinosu waved their hand. “No, you’re not movin’ in, I got enough trouble takin’ care of you durin’ the day.”His ears visibly drooped, making him sigh as disappointment spread across his face.

Shinosu frowned underneath their mask as the boy got down from his seat, making his way to one of the bookshelves that occupied the house. His feet made dull thumps against the carpet as he walked up to the shelf, hands swishing back and forth against his sides as he looked over the books in awe.

“You read lots?” He asked, turning back around as Shinosu nodded, humming. “‘m learnin’ how to read ‘n school, s’hard.” Shinosu sighed, nodding again as they turned back to the food cooking. “You just gotta get good at it.” Sona frowned but disregarded it as he made his way to the table, taking a seat in one of the chairs and propping his head up with his arms as he looked over to Shinosu.

He took one of his hands down to take the paper out of his pocket, setting it in front of him and staring at it. “What’d the paper end up sayin’.” He asked, watching as Shinosu continued to stir the food, pressing a few bits of meat to the sides to test how soft it was. “Somethin’ about a tournament in a few weeks, winner gets a buncha coin.” They replied, grabbing a nearby bucket and pouring water over the fire, watching the smoke rise up and out the chimney.

They grabbed a wooden bowl and a ladle, pouring a sizeable portion into it and heading over to where Sona sat. His tail thumped excitedly against the back of the chair as the bowl was set in front of him. He hesitated to take a bite, waiting until Shinosu sat down across from him, nodding at him, to dig in.

He shoveled the stew into his mouth hungrily, the broth dribbling down the sides of his face. Shinosu took the opportunity to grab the paper that rested on the table, scanning it over and frowning. Before they knew it, Sona let out a loud, satisfactory sigh as he settled the bowl on the table.

Shinosu raised a brow. “Hungry much?” Sona nodded. “Was good, can I have another?” Shinosu nodded, grabbing his bowl and heading back over to the pot. Sona wiped his mouth against his forearm, tail thumping as he watched them start to pour him another bowl.

As he finished pouring it, a question popped into his mind. “Wait, why don’ you eat some?” Shinosu visibly stiffened, but set the bowl in front of him, taking their seat once more, pointing to their face. “Mask.” Sona tilted his head to the side. “Take it off then!” “No.” He frowned, food forgotten as his new goal was to get them to take off their mask. “Why not?” Shinosu crossed their arms, settling back against the chair. “Drop it.”

“But I ne’er ask ‘bout the mask before! I wa’na know!” Sona whined, slamming his hands against the wood table. Shinosu’s eye twitched, glaring at the brat in front of them. “Quit while you’re ahead, boy.” In a swift movement, Sona leapt onto the table, hand reaching out for the mask. If he was quick enough, he could see their face, he could see what they were hiding!

He wasn’t quick enough.

Shinosu grabbed his wrist, twisting it harshly to the side and slamming it down against the table. The stew toppled over, spilling across the table as Sona yelped. Shinosu let go of his arm, standing up and heading behind him towards the door. Sona rubbed his wrist, yelling at Shinosu. “The hell was that for?” Angrily, Shinosu threw the door open, hearing the back slam against the wall outside. “Out. Now.” There was nothing but venom in their voice, it was cold.

A chill ran down Sona’s side, but he still had the nerve to question them. “What?” Shinosu’s eye twitched, they tapped their foot against the floor. “10. 9-” Sona caught on quickly to the threat, scrambling out the chair and out the door. He stopped on the porch, turning back to take a final look at his friend, but was met with their arm closing the door shut once more, hearing it click and lock.

He stood there for a few minutes, half expecting them to open the door again. Waves crashed against the shore loudly, the sun dipping down under the horizon and the cold wind settled onto him. They weren’t going to open the door any time soon. He sighed, stepping off the porch and kicking his feet into the ground. He took one last look at the house, before disappearing between the trees and back towards the town.

Inside, Shinosu rested with their back against their chair, forearm covering their mask’s eyes. When they heard Sona’s footsteps departing, they sighed. Both of their hand reached towards the back of their neck, fingers fumbling with the buckle of their mask. With a few tries, the strap loosened, letting them slide off the bone mask and set it against the table. With a tired huff, they rested their forearm over them again, this time resting it on their eyes.

“Nosy kid.” They mumble out, rubbing their eyes and picking up the flier once more, now the corner wet from the stew. “What am I going to do with you?"

Thank you for reading the third installment of Peaches. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and are excited for many more to come.

[c-atm]

Fighting flirty vol.2: Powerful, instrumental."

Steven sat up on Connie's and his bed at the velvety command, his back to the headboard as the sensual music began.

  Oh, my, my, my, what you do to me?

Like lightning when I'm swimming in the sea

  Steven arched an eyebrow at her voice and turned off the T.V as his Heartberry sashayed into view of their bedroom doorway from their upstairs corridor; dressed in a dual slit, red star pattern, V-neckline floor-length translucent hard-light gown with triangle cups with ruffle trim, her hair in a gentle dragon braid. The tail of it resting on her left shoulder and gently caressing her corresponding breast.

  From the very first time we loved

  Leaning upon the doorway, she dimmed the lights to a low orange glow. 

  From the very first time we touched

  Sliding her left foot up the wall, her knee at a bend, before stretching her leg out toe length of the opening, displaying her tone, alluring limb from toe to hip. Getting a snarkily hungry growl from her Mister.

  Walking on wires and power lines

  She seductively trailed the fingers of her right down from her collarbone in between her breast to her navel, all while rolling her chest and belly salaciously.

  You put your body on top of mine

  Steven gulped as she threw her foot off the door onto the floor in a heat-rising show of body control as she sauntered rhythmically towards their bed, her hips swaying as she did. The slightest glance of her inner thigh poking in and out with each step towards their bed.

  Every time that you lift me up

  Steven eyes were glued on her form as she crawled; in a slow, sensual pace towards his thigh with a small arch in her back accentuating her ever so hypnotic assets.

  To the heaven and stars,

  Walking her fingers up from his bare calves up.

  abo~oo~ve!

  Swaying her hips to the rhythm. 

  O Lord of mercy

I'm begging you, please

I'm feelin' drained

I need love

  Maybe it was the way her palm purposely stroked his thigh, the provocative movement of her body in that get up, or that desirable face she gave him that urged him. 

  You charge me up

Like electricity

  Those half-lidded onyx eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light with down arching brows. 

Those slightly parted, puckered lips, with the slightest marooned blush that he sure was yearning and not reluctance.

  Jumpstart my heart

With your love

  That made him sing along.

  There's an energy

When you hold me

When you touch me

It's so powerful

  Connie started to move her hand up to his inner thigh, towards the aperture, getting a shiver from him.

  I can feel it

When you hold me

When you touch me

It's so powerful

  She grinned devilishly as he tried to ignore the rising of his body: his bright red blush and bitten lip, feeding her urge to stoke his flame.

  There's an energy

When you hold me

When you touch me

It's so powerful

  Heartberry moved to straddle his knees before laying the top of her body to the height of his gem, her shape in a 'master-level' arch. Holding his hands as she pressed her mounds against his thighs. As she swirled her hips, flirtatiously bouncing the back off her gown with her 'heart,' giving him a glimpse of bare brown flesh.

  I can feel it

When you hold me

When you touch me

It's so powerful

  Steven tried to keep his cool as she slid her divine physique up his body. Her smooth, silky skin against his very thin boxers and a tank top did nothing to lessen the electric shock to his senses, the curling of his toes, or the hardness of his 'other gem.'  

Looking away towards the upper west peripheral with his lips turned up and brows in a crease creating furrow, couldn't the very evident, positive reaction from 'below the belt.'

That only got more pronounced when she roosted fully on his lap, knees at his hip.

  I couldn't leave if I wanted to

  Connie bit the corner of her lip, a vampish glint in her eye as she swayed her torso back and forth in a belly dance teasing brushing against Steven's, looping one arm at his nape while guiding his hand to trail her body with the other, something that instantly put a smile on his face. 

  Cause something keeps pulling me 

  She took his open neck as an invite to nip, so she did, 

  back -

  once…

  to -

  Twice

  you

  Thrice. Leaving her mark and making Steven gasp as he clasp her hips.

  From the very first time we loved

  Before turning her back to him, situating herself on his pelvis, leaning back to his chest.

  From the very first time we 

  Rubbing his cheek, coaxing a quick meeting of their tongues, inviting both him to feel just how well her attire fits on her, as she broke the kiss, grabbed his hips...

   tou~ouched

  And began to make him melt as she pulled out his silent, pleading snarls of her name with her own.

  The stroke of your fingers

The scent of you lingers

  She sang in truthful praise as she grinded upon her Mister, melting herself. Her eyes closed, head upon his shoulder, nuzzling his neck with the same amorous breath as Steven; relishing the light and delicate sensation of his fingers and palms as he stoke, caressed, and grips various places of her form, all while loving every silent, involuntary moan, twitch and quake her rotating and gyrating ass, summoned from his hot person.

  My mind running wild

With thoughts of your smile

  Steven smiled down at his lioness; the tiny beads of sweat on her face mixed with the look of pure elation brought another bout of arousal. One by the coquettish grin that enveloped her features and the increased rhythmic rubbing on his arduous groin. was quite appreciated, as were the actions and her words.

  Oh, you gotta give me some

  She saw his smile, that prideful, drunk loving smile. That wolfish smile that made her…' Elated.'  giving him a pointed, enamored gaze; Connie gave her neck to her Bisky, her hands interlocking at his nape as his breath met her collar.

  Or you could give it all

 But it's never enough, 

no~oo

  Connie vocalized in pure euphoria as Steven sunk his fangs into her collar, her bottom half shifting more salaciously upon his, evoking moans from both lost in the emotion as this teasing match of theirs was steadily on its way to being something more intimate.

  A common thing nowadays for the two.

  There's an energy

When you hold me

When you touch me

It's so powerful

  She quivered as he slipped under her clothes. Despite how thin their state of dress was, the feel of flesh on flesh set lightning upon Heartbrerry's nerves.

 Beautiful, otherworldly lightning.

  I can feel it

When you hold me

When you touch me

It's so powerful

  Coupled with that baritone voice of his, she was in a fiery ecstasy.

  I can feel it

When you hold me

When you touch me

It's so powerful

  As much bliss as it was, there was one thing she wanted. One thing they needed.

  There's an energy

When you hold me

Turning to face him with a smile, she kissed him once gently, before ripping his tank top off, with surprising ease.

By tearing it in two. Getting a shocked look from her mister, 

  When you touch me

It's so powerful

  Before, it evolved into a chuckling hold with a swarm of kisses as he rolled her to get back.  Rising his upper half just slightly, allowing for a glimpsing touch of chest.

  I can feel it

When you hold me

  They gazed at each other, love and lust at their very height, foreheads meeting as Heartberry trailed his lips with her thumb, purring a bit as he playfully traced her windpipe to her chest line.

  When you touch me

It's so powerful

  They shared a kiss of the lips before she gave him a pleading nod. Steven rained down mark-making nips and sucklings in her upper chest and neckline as he stripped the top of her gown off.

  I can feel it

When you hold me

  He stopped and gazed as he always did, this time cut short by a growling Minx, who lured him to the previous position with deep kisses and her hands pulling at his waistband. He didn't need to be told again. Making her breathe out his name deeply, squirming as he hit bingo after bingo with his oral and manual machinations. Before slipping away the last of both their clothing.

  When you touch me

It's so powerful

  It wasn't the first time they were both bare as birth together.

Won't bet the last time as well. Still, they both couldn't help but giggle and blush and fall over each other as if it was their first, cause for them, the person in their sight was their first, last, and only.

  She waited as he grabbed the bed blanket to throw over them before opening herself to him, just as excited as every other time since Empire city. Her arm up to her best friend, her jambud...Her Mister.

Sharing a grin as he allowed the blanket to cover them as he eagerly accepted her invitation.

  When you hold me in your arms

Burns like fire and electricity

  "Oh, Mis~ter!"

"Hmm, Ber~rrry!"

  When you're close, I feel the sparks

Takes me higher to infinity

[thesunshinebunny]

The incubi with an s/o that’s an Egyptian queen in their under realm

Uuuuuhhhh nice, I really like it. If I see you guys looooove it like I do, I’ll make a oneshot !!! Before starting, a little clarification. The S/O have their tattoos and skin in esmerald shade (sorry if it is not your favorite color) and can transformed into a snake of the same color, apart from being able to change the size depending on the situation; Aaaaand they can also transform into a black cat.

Let’s Goooooooo

_** **_

James

Both of tou met when The Demon Lord suggested that a marriage agreement between the two realms would facilitate the attainment of more power and strength.

James didn’t really like the idea of ​​marriage, and you less.

Buuut, keep a badasssss look you guys, no matter the circunstancies.

You and your parents traveled to his kingdom and let’s say the meeting between you five wasn’t the most pleasant.

Your parents accepting the offer, but only if you agreed to marry James, otherwise, there would be no agreement.

You on the other side, indifference to the whole situation, just wishing to get into the first library you saw and stay there until departure.

A shy and extremly nervous incubbaby James.

The Demon Lord angry AF, threatening to invade your kingdom if you didn’t accept marriage.

Aaaaanyway, bad first meetings to the side, you saw James again in the throne room when you were reading a huge book about war tactics.

“Who do you think you are, sittting comfortably on the king’s throne?”

That fucking imp, since you arrived he doesn’t leave you alone. Wherever you go, this bastard always has a criticism to make.

“It should be an action of treason, just waits until The Demon Lord knows about this, you’ll regr…”

“Leave her alone, NOW”

James to the rescue, anyone doubt it for a moment?

The imp left, cursing under his breath.

“Forgive his habits of meddling where they don’t call him, it’s quite irritating.”

“Yes, too much. It wasn’t necessary for you to came to defend me, if he had continued a little longer I would have injected my poison. He would have been paralyzed for a few days, damn spawn. ”

poison? James.exe stops working

You had to transform yourself so the poor baby could understand.

James.exe loves it

And when you stayed in a naga version, he may have discovered a new kink.

Leaving the “arranged” marriage, you really got along, even on the days you stayed in his kingdom, a little love story could’ve been born.

Heartbroken when you had to return to your kingdom.

The two of you gave each other a small memory to not forget.

You gave him a small jar with your poison to use in that unfortunate servant.

He gave you one of his favorite books.

More heartbroken to know he leaves with his brothers to the human world, leaving you behind, alone.

Erik

Both of you met in the gardens of your kingdom (strange thing, right?)

For some strange reason, which wasn’t an arranged marriage or an alliance, The Demon Lord decided to visit your parents’ kingdom, and with him he took James and Erik.

While The Demon Lord and his “favorite heir” had a private audience with your parents, Erik was allowed to roam the long, heated halls of the castle.

Your fucking kingdom is very veeeeeeeeeeery hot, what the hell !!

He found a large entrance with the rarest and most startling flowers he has ever seen and, out of simple and obvious curiosity, he passed the threshold, to end up up encountering an immense garden.

An incredible view if I say so myself.

And speaking of views … your emerald skin positioned in the middle of the garden could called the attention of any demon.

“Ah! Aren’t you a beautiful sight? I wouldn’t be bother to melt on your beautiful skin. ”

If looks could kill … your kingdom would already be at war with Erik’s.

“Is that how you generally introduce yourself? Without saying your name or bothering to know it of the other person with whom you blatantly try to flirt? ”

Matthew voice You’re going to need some cold water for that burn.

“I’m sorry, you’re totally right, it wasn’t my intention to disrespect you in that way. My sincere apologies ”

Okey-dokey, leaving bad impressions aside, let’s go to the good.

His stay in your castle made the free and boring time before your coronation more enjoyable.

Taking care of the garden.

Reading poems.

Allow Erik to participate in political meetings between the two kingdoms.

Long nights talking about everything and nothing.

You promised to see each other again on your coronation’s day.

Spend some time alone after so much stress.

Breakfast with the dawn.

Among many other sweet things.

But that meeting never happened.

Sam

First very bad impression.

At first he thought you were one of his damn father’s new wives. He received you with enough servers and put together a great banquet to introduce you to his sons.

With the cards on the table and Sam understanding you were actually going to be betrothed by one of the incubrothers, his angry face broke down.

Sam being Sam, he denied the option of being a suitor in that damn arranged marriage.

He tried to avoid you most of the time you were in the palace.

No speaking, No eye contact, nothing.

It started to be irritating.

He thought you were a silly princess who needed thousands of servants to survive and that your only goal in your pathetic life was to marry and be queen.

He had the audacity to say it in the throne room when you confronted him for being so rude.

He turned his back on you before you could even open your mouth and went to the door.

“I don’t think you know who you’re talking to”

You reached him in a second, like…how the fuck?

He then notice your esmerald naga form, with emerald snake eyes.

Fucking badass if he say so.

Maybe a little turn on.

He took his time to meditate and apologize. His pride didn’t let him looked at you in the eye.

He talks to you whenever he feels alone in this big fucking castle. He starts to enjoy your company too.

Loves when you become a snake to scare away his servants.

You may or may not let him get on your tail and take a quick and small walk in the … gardens? Back of the castle? Whatever

You are there when he need towreak his anger from a bad day.

He tried to take you with him and his brothers to the human world, but for you, it was impossible.

“I am the only heir to my parents’ kingdom, I am devoted to my people, I can’t abandon them”

You may have seen him shed a tear before he crossed the portal.

And that was the last time you see each other, for 10 long years.

Matthew

While walking through the palace inventing new toys, he saw a small black spot moving with the corner of his eye.

When he turned his head, that spot was gone.

Back to bussines then.

But before he could even think of a new design, he felt something brush his leg.

He looked down and a little black cat with big emerald eyes was stroking his leg with its head.

He have diessss for cutenes !!!

He’s stroking his head for a while when an imp of his father appeared inside the map.

“It’s amazing that The Demon Lord continues to let you live in his castle, you’re nothing more than an immature and childish demon”

Matthew was already used to this kind of comment and it was better to ignore them than to confront them.

But apparently a certain cat did not think the same.

What was once a small feline with black fur, was now a huge emerald snake two meters long.

The snake squeezed the damn imp until he goes violet and left him unconscious for a good while.

Matthew may have been scared a little.

BUT… low key sattisfac.

“What would you do without me, sweet cheeks?”

He was taken back by the previous transformation that didn’t realized that the snake was now a succubus of emerald eyes and tattoos.

He never knew that a succubus could look good with snake’s eyes.

Also, whe he knew you’re a QUEEN?!?!?!

Fuck yeah !! You’re even more hotter.

Loves to give you some of his toys, even the weird ones.

Absolutly LOVES when he cooks for you..oh, OH, no, delate that. HE REAAAALLLY LOVES when both of you go to the fucking kitchen and cook the fucking living shit for the both of us.

Every plate cames out more delicious than the previous one.

He give you a few recipes for you to try in your kingdom at the time of your departure.

Cooking is a way to remember the sweetness and love that Matthew managed to give you during the few days you were in his castle.

That habit becomes a nightmare when a servant entered the kitchen to warn you that the children from The Demon Lord went to the human world.

The cake you planned to send was scattered all over the floor.

Damien

He was being ridiculed by one of his “father’s” trusted servants when he met you.

“It’s only a matter of time before The Demon Lord throw you out of the castle like a malnourished dog.”

Do you know what is the worst? Not the heartbreaking comments, but Damien getting used to hearing them.

“It is a miracle that you are still alive despite the non-existent food that we are allowed to give you. You are nothing but a hindrance to everyone here, why don’t you do us a favor, including you, and leave before our lord … “

The servant was paralyzed and turned violet … apart from falling to the ground completely rigid.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do you need something? ”

An angel sent from heaven.

Regain your composure Damien !!!!

His little knight to the rescue

Ok, I’m done.

Hidden readings in the library at the time he told you about his illiteracy.

Even once in a while you allow him to read your mind to continue learning to read and pronounce the letters.

Ancient and current Egyptian writing and reading classes.

Human language writing classes.

Talks in one of his brothers’ rooms.

“How can you become a snake?”

“Why doesn’t the color of your tattoos match the one of your eyes?”

“Do you spend a lot of energy transforming?”

“Can you avoid reading people’s minds?”

Oopss, delicate subject.

When you returned to your kingdom, you gave him a small mirror which had a twin in another part of the realm (more specifically your castle)

When he wanted, both of you could see each other from a distance and you could continue teaching him.

You broke the mirror the last time you saw Damien through it.

You saw him … in human clothes, in the human world, and he didn’t have the decency to warn you … or to take you with him.

[jackalopingintothevoid]

Sur(real)

John didn’t think he’d ever seen a sky so blue.

There was a strong wind, pulling at his hair and clothing, rushing past his uncovered skin; he’d gotten used to it, but even with the sun beating down it was almost too cold. It carried the rustling and scent of the grass with it, and the sensations were prickling at something in his brain, as if they were familiar.

Glancing back over his shoulder, John could still see Hood’s encouraging smile. The Admiral had been vague about how he’d managed all of this, and John wasn’t going to ask. He was still trying to figure out if he was grateful or resentful, nervous or excited.

All he knew for sure was that his stomach had tightened into a thick knot that didn’t seem like it was going to loosen anytime soon, and the lump in his throat was getting bigger as he approached the enclosed pavilion.

There were too many unaccounted for variables, too many unknowns. He’d never been to this part of this planet before (never seen so much open green space outside of his dreams), there would apparently be no one monitoring the meeting, no other person nearby aside from Lord Hood who was clearly staying a ways off. John wasn’t in armour; wasn’t in BDUs or dress blues.

A soft t-shirt, bereft of medals. Stiff jeans with only four pockets and little give. A light jacket that barely provided protection from the chill. Thick boots that felt sturdy to walk in but were clearly made from suboptimal materials.

Unfamiliar. Exposed.

John reached the wooden door, and stopped. There were glass panes in the frame, and it was still somewhat startling to see his own reflection. It had changed significantly over the past two weeks, but he hadn’t seen much of it before then either.

(He should have realised that Lord Hood would not be pleased at his defiance-- but no one could have predicted that he’d spend the next fortnight being dragged around planetside in civvies because “some sun will do you good”.)

This must have been planned from the start. Perhaps his face now would be more familiar than it might have been otherwise.

That thought made him feel... odd, so he brushed it aside-- and hesitated. Should he knock, or just enter? He was expected but...

He needed to stop standing here.

Struggling to swallow, John opened the door.

He recognised the elderly couple sat inside, past the little ornate table laden with tea and cookies; Hood had shown him the photos and vid messages they’d sent. Photos and messages they’d given to a stranger who’d promised they’d reach John. Messages filled with tears and smiles and We’ve missed you so much, we’re so glad you’re alive.

All other thoughts ground to a halt at their eyes on him. They both gasped at the same time, and for one long moment all was still.

He felt the faint urge to bolt, but was pinned in place by those eyes.

Then they both stood, and the man-- his father (that felt so strange) surged forwards with a tearful cry of, “John!” and he flinched back before he could catch himself.

To the-- to his father’s credit, he stopped dead, took two steps back, but the huge smile stayed on his face, even as the tears fell down his cheeks. “John.” He said again, voice worn and rough with age and use, and there was such joy in it that John had no idea what to do. “John, oh John!”

This was-- he didn’t know what to do. It was too much, too intense, too... big.

Too big. It filled the room, he filled the room, despite being smaller than John; though, admittedly, not by much. This was... familiar. Faint, distant, the impression of booming laughter rather than the sound, but familiar all the same. Somehow that only made it worse.

Slowly, his father approached again, blue eyes (blue like John’s) drinking in every detail. John tried to control his breathing and slow his heart as Mr-- no, no, he’d chosen this, he was going to put in the effort-- as... dad? No, that was... as his father reached out to grasp his shoulders.

The older man squeezed firmly, then laughed breathlessly, and John found himself a little calmer, more grounded. The person in front of him was solid and warm; it was just as reassuring to him as it was to his father.

His father, who was reaching up further to cup his cheeks. His father, who’s hands were softer than he expected, but he still couldn’t tear his gaze away from those glittering, joyful eyes. He didn’t think anyone had ever been so happy to see him (half expected a Spartan smile).

“My boy,” his father breathed, “look at you. Come,” He half turned towards the pavilion’s other occupant, but didn’t stop looking at John, “come and see your boy!”

Mrs K-- his mother, stepped forward now, and her husband finally pried himself away, though still hovering at John’s side. Her smile was smaller, more hesitant, her dark eyes (he’d seen those eyes before) more searching. Once-dark hair was all but white now, and her face was well-lined with the years she’d lived, but otherwise... it was like her face had been plucked from his dreams. He had stared at the photos of her in disbelief for hours when left alone, blinking hard, waiting to wake up in a bunk on the Infinity.

Looking at her now, in person, only made that feeling more pronounced.

It was unsettling, uncanny, but he still felt that warmth bloom in his chest. The dreams of his mother had been the only good dreams he had for far too long. He’d wondered occasionally how accurate the dream was, how much of it invented; now he knew.

And perhaps that warmth was exactly what his mother was looking for, because her hesitant smile blossomed into something brighter (more familiar). She stepped forward again with more confidence, arms opening as if unconsciously, and John found himself taking his own step forward as he heard his name leave her lips.

(He always ran to her when she called his name across the green space.)

She seemed to take that as a sign, and though this time John was too tall to be enveloped as he usually was, he still felt his mother’s arms wrap around his chest, her hands pressed firmly to his back.

She was soft, yet surprisingly solid; she murmured kind things, we missed you we’re proud of you it’s so good to hold you; but she was sobbing into his shirt, small against his massive body and she didn’t smell the same.

No.

Wait.

She did smell the same, the same soap he’d been dreaming of for forty years. It was John’s memory that had been wrong.

Now the scent was fresh in his nose for what felt like the first time, yet the correction had clicked into place in his head as if he’d always known it and just needed reminding, and suddenly John was far too present in his own body. The floor was flat and unyielding beneath him, the still air less cold than outside in the wind, his mother’s body warm and real, and this wasn’t a dream.

This wasn’t a dream.

His father filled the room with his presence and his mother still used the same soap and John was awake.

Carefully, his heart beating too fast and making him feel frantic, John took his mother’s shoulders and pulled her back a little, so he could see her face again. She went easily, willingly, looking up at him like she couldn’t believe he was there. Her arms stayed around him, clinging, clutching, refusing to let him go.

John liked her face. He liked the soft curve of her cheeks and lines around her mouth and the mahogony sheen of her eyes. He liked the silver curls that framed her face, escaping from her braid, the straight nose and the thick eyebrows.

His eyes prickled, burned, and his vision blurred. His mother huffed a tearful laugh and pulled herself in again, one of her hands coming up to the back of his head, as if she meant to tug him down to her. Perhaps she did; she came up to his chin, but he bent his neck until the the pressure of her hand lessened, their damp cheeks pressed together. He could smell her soap more strongly, and the tears came faster. (He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let someone see him cry.)

“John,” she whispered.

Swallowing thickly, he finally answered, “Mom,” and it felt so strange to say but it was right, and he nearly sobbed at the conflicting feelings. He’d spent days worried he’d be unable to connect with his parents at all, that they would be strangers that expected things he couldn’t provide. Instead he was being swept away in a tidal wave of emotions he could barely identify, fuelled by a bizarre, nostalgia-tinged sort of déjà vu.

His father sobbed instead, one hand resting over John’s on his mom’s shoulder, the other rubbing circles at his upper back. “My boy, our boy..”

“That’s right,” his mom said thickly, “it’s me, it’s me and your papa. We’re here, we’re here, we’ve got you.”

Papa. Not dad. Papa. Booming laughter, empty rooms made full, the shift and give of sand beneath his shoes, the dizzying rush of being lifted into the air.

John lifted his head, looking to his father. The well-maintained beard didn’t quite disguise the thick jaw, wider than John’s, or the prominent chin; but he had the same high cheekbones. His hair was swept back, showing off a widow’s peak, and he had a pronounced Roman nose.

It seemed like John hadn’t inherited as much from his-- from his papa as he thought.

But his smile, wide and slightly crooked, that was familiar in a deeper way, familiar like mom’s soap.

So John sniffled, took a steadying breath, and said “Papa,” testing it, tasting it.

And his papa sobbed again, didn’t stop, pressing in closer to embrace the both of them. John shifted, moving his hands from mom’s shoulders; one he pressed to the centre of her back, the other under his papa’s arm to his shoulder blade, his skin tingling.

He’d never been touched so much--

They stayed like that for a time, clinging to each other. His parents crying petered out slowly, but John’s silent tears ebbed and flowed without coming to a stop. He relaxed as they held each other, moving to wrap his arms more securely, felt them reciprocate.

When they pulled away he felt a stab of panic; he didn’t want them to go.

But they stayed close, still touching him, watching him with blotchy faces and gentler smiles. John felt warm, but wrung out and fragile, his chest still tight with repressed sobs. So when papa reached up to stroke his hair, and pressed a soft, scratchy kiss to his cheek, it was enough to shatter him.

“Oh!”

“Oh, John.”

“Oh, Schmusebärchen!”

Their voices held a tone that was only vaguely familiar, and wholly lacking the mocking edge he’d heard before. A strange mix of pitying and fond, and he found he didn’t mind it at all. They held him tighter, squeezed his arm and rubbed his back, stroked his hair and kissed his face and through it all he sobbed.

Eventually he calmed again, and was immediately beset with tissues. He wiped his face and blew his nose, and let himself be coaxed into sitting down. His knees appreciated it.

They sat on either side of him, sandwiching him between them, pressed just as close. He sank into the plush seating, but his gaze kept being drawn to his parents’ faces.

The light in the pavilion had changed. John frowned, suddenly feeling his stomach start to knot again. How long had they been in here?

“John? What’s wrong, Sternchen?” Mom asked, stroking a knuckle down his cheek. Her pronunciation was quite good, but he supposed it would be after living with Papa for nearly fifty years.

“What time is it?”

She shook her head firmly, dismissing the question. “That doesn’t matter.” Her tone brooked no arguments, but it didn’t ease John’s concern.

“She’s right, Kuschelbär,” Papa murmured, and John couldn’t help but smile at the endless, ridiculous terms of endearment, “We have time, now. We have plenty of time.”

“Now!” He said suddenly, leaning forwards to grab a plate from the table. “Time for refreshments, I think, hm? We have plenty of cookies for you, so eat up!”

“How do you like your tea?” Mom asked. They both seemed to perk up at having something to physically do, and John huffed a soft, mirthful sound. He was much the same.

He still felt off-kilter. He’d been trying to mentally prepare for this meeting for days, but he’d been preparing for a different outcome; even then, he might not have succeeded. It had stopped feeling like it wasn’t real, but it still felt like it shouldn’t be. And still, nagging in the back of his head, was the knowledge that out there, somewhere, a transport was heading for the planet with their second child on board. A little sister he’d never known, who heard he was alive and here and leapt to book passage to come and meet him for the first time.

They would be on slightly more even footing that he thought he’d be with Mom and Papa at least. They would be starting from scratch. (He’d wanted a little sister.)

“I don’t know,” he rumbled in answer to Mom’s question, “how do you make it?”

She smiled and scooped two sugars into the cup.

Papa snorted. “Let’s hope you’ve still got that sweet tooth, eh?”

John looked down at the plate piled high with half a dozen different types of cookie, the raised his eyebrow at Papa.

“... You get that look from your mother, you know.”

John laughed.

----------------------------

(@sledposting, @epsiloneridani07)

[ladyanaconda]

Hey I’ve been having a hard time to pronounce the characters’ names and the species’ names (like sobrekt, kryvtor and indokuro). How do you pronounce them? All the sobrekt and kryvtor names we got so far from “The Smeet” series please.

Sobrekt: sob-rek

Kryvtor: creep-tor

Masouri: ma-suu-ree

Scylla: zee-la

Sakr: sac-her

Okotto: o-ko-tou

Akkono: ack-ono

Brava: -brua-va

Shuryo: shur-ee-o

[rogermeddowstaylorr]

Forbidden Summer

Note: IT IS UP ! It has been a long week torturing myself with it, but it is done! I would like to thank as usual my adorable wife @rogerina-is-hotter-than-me , what would i do without you ? And i would also thank all the people rebbloging and commenting on the moodboards! i feel blessed! (and yes it is the second time i upload it because Tumblr is mean to me >:l ) (and sorry  i can’t put the read more link because it is what fucked up everything)

Warning: age gap (the reader is 18 yo and Roger is 38 yo), smut, fluff and some french words because i love my country

Words: 10 679 words (take a cup of tea and put you in bed)

The Forbidden Summer masterpost

Tu n'as que seize ans et faut voir comme

Tu affoles déjà tous les hommes !

Est-ce ton œil si doux

Qui les mine ?

Ou bien les rondeurs de ta poitrine

Qui les rend fous ?

Tino Rossi’s high voice was filling the room. You were half asleep on your pink floral bed sheets. It was summer break and everyone was lazy, the air was so hot it was stifling. Your windows were wide open to get as much fresh breeze you could. The trail of smoke from your cigarette was rising in the air. You were wearing an orange mini skirt, and a white shirt that was almost transparent and had your hair untied. Your parents were not home, they were in Paris with family. That’s why you were like this, in all your debauchery. They would not let their  little eighteen girl smoke, and be almost naked in the outside world. You had a week for you. A lot of things can happens in a week. Your eyes drifted from your burning cigarette to the calendar on the wall. Juillet 1962. The clock on the side was saying 10 am. You get up slowly, stretching at the rhythm of the music always playing. Your room was small but you had everything you needed. A record player, some books stacked on the ground and a big mirror to get ready. Pinned on your walls were a lot of Brigitte Bardot’s pictures, proving your adoration for this woman. Taking your shoes in your hands and a light wicker bag in the other, your cigarette between your lips, you began to walk outside. You locked the door and sat on the stairs facing your house. The leather sandals were put on quickly, even though your wild hair was half hiding your sight. Humming the song you were listening to some minutes before, you opened the little gate and closed it behind you. You heard someone run towards you and faced the person.

“Oh my! Y/N! Have you seen the new professor?” a young girl said to you. She was small, blonde and had blue eyes. She was angelic, in a white lacy dress that reached her knees.

“Hm, no, why Madeleine?” you answered, cigarette now in your hand. You were the total antithesis of how girls should be at your age. But you were fed up of all those restrictions. You wanted to be like Brigitte Bardot: a wild little thing that men loved.

“He is teaching us english! Sorry lord for saying this, but ... he’s so hot.” Madeleine said quickly.  “He’s a british boy i think, he has a light accent when he’s talking french and oh… That’s so cute!” She led her hand up to cover her mouth, and giggled softly. You were smiling, taking her hand to see her face. Her cheeks were flushed.

“You’re so cute. Watch it, you could sin, my friend.” You were close to her, laughing too. “What’s his name?” you asked, taking a puff of smoke as your cigarette was now leaning against your lips.

“I don’t remember! Something french, but… you have to pronounce it with an english accent you know ? Hm… Robert? No.” She was searching in her little blonde head, and after a short moment she squealed, saying it out loud “ROGER !”

“Roger?” It was sounding so good in your mouth, you thought. “I can’t wait for those english classes, Madeleine.” you pecked a kiss on her forehead and excused yourself to go.

Making your way to the marketplace, you were humming the same song, finishing your cigarette. Men were gazing at you. It was as if an enchanting and intoxicating scent was left in your wake. Women were a bit shocked, seeing you with a skirt that short. It was not acceptable for your age. You bought fruits, and vegetables, put them in your bag and lit another cigarette, looking at the magazines. You stopped when you saw a fashion one, with Brigitte Bardot on it. You smiled and bought it too.

Returning home, you were reading it when you hit someone. Your bag fell suddenly, letting your purchase roll on the floor. A raspy voice apologized and you quickly got on your knees to catch everything. You were feeling a heavy gaze on you.

“What are you waiting for? Help me get everything!” you said to the man. You lifted your head and took a look at him. He was… breathtaking. His blonde unruly hair, his big blue eyes and those pink lips, slightly parted. You kept looking at him, under the shock of a beautiful man like him. You lowered your sight, and quickly took the golden cross attached at your neck in your little hands.

“Hm.. Sorry ma’am,” he answered and kneeled in front of you. He had a soft english accent, and his french words were a bit deformed but you didn’t mind. You realized it was the guy Madeleine had described you. Your professor. You froze for a second. You were hypnotized by him. A soft smile came on his lips. “It’s not very appropriate to wear things like that, especially if you’re a young girl like yourself.” his tone was amused, not reprimanding you.

“My parents are not home, sir, so… i took the opportunity.” Your eyes were wandering his face. His beautiful face.

“Good opportunity.” he giggled softly. He silently helped you to get everything in the bag and took the magazine, rising. You reached out the hand he was proposing you, and stood up.  “You like Bardot, don't you?” he asked.

“Yes. A lot. I find her… beautiful.” you were a bit breathless, your heart racing at the name of your idol.

“You look quite like her. You have the same energy.” He smiled and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. He gave you back the magazine.

You thanked him and began to go. You hoped you would escape that situation quickly. He was truly handsome. The handsomest man you’d ever seen. He looked a bit old but his little wrinkles at the corner of his eyes were adorable. You assumed he was in his late thirties. His hand retain yours to get far.

“Excuse me… I… Would like to know if I would see you again?” he asked. His cheeks were a bit pink. He lowered his sight and described the shape of your waist, losing his mind in it. He closed his eyes a second, keeping a groan of satisfaction for him.

“Yes.” You answered quickly, taking air in.  “I am taking classes at the church during the summer break. We would surely meet again.” you were not looking at him, too embarrassed for it. He freed your hand as a smile crept on his face, seeing you go. He would see you again.

The wind was softly brushing your burning cheeks, cooling them. Your messy hair was floating softly and, getting a new cigarette, you let out a loud sigh. You achieved to get home after a long walk. You were dazed by this meeting, not walking right. Your head was full of images of him, your ears were buzzing, and your tummy was strangely light as if butterflies were now occupying your entire body. A hand groping on the wall of your house, you achieved to go in your room. Falling on your bed, you closed your eyes, remembering his face again and again and again.

*

You were late for the english class. You slept so much time, and, without lying, dreamed about him. You were dressing quickly, panicked to be late to his class. The shower you just took had left some humidity in the pink tiled room. The dirty mirror above the white sink was full of fog. Your makeup was done easily: just some eyeliner around your eyes to make them appear bigger. Choosing a red lipstick, you approached the mirror and parted your mouth, putting the red creme on your plump lips. A cigarette in your mouth and brows furrowed, you made a quick and untidy ponytail and ran to your door, taking your bag for school.

You opened the door of the class after running through all the little town. You were panting, your thin fingers on the handle of the door. The class was full of young girls, looking now at you. The silence was stifling. It was in one of the back rooms of the roman church of your town. The walls were light blue and the furniture green. It was original but you were used to it now. Religious posters were pinned on the walls saying that god is always here for you. The blonde man was looking at you too, with a large grin on his lips, arms crossed.

“Late.” he said, in english. You thought you had been dead as he spoke. His accent was simply too hot and sexy. How was it even possible?

“Y.. Yes ?” you answered in your mother tongue. Everyone was staring at you. And one thing was not okay with your outfit: your skirt was a bit too high, ending mid thighs. Some girls were chatting about it, whispering to their friends with a giggle. You saw Madeleine sat in the other side of the room.

“Now we’re talking in english, miss.” He smiled, showing you an empty desk in the front places. You walked to your place. You were still panting, your chest rising up and down. He came closer, a hand on your shoulder. “Your skirt is a bit high, don’t you know?” he whispered  in french. You looked at him and lowered your eyes to your clothing. You brought it down. Your cheeks were bright red, as he patted your back a last time before you sat down, next to Madeleine.

“I’ve told you.” she whispered, smiling. “He’s too hot.”

The class was interesting, and you were the last one to tidy everything in your bag. You told Madeleine to go home, and that you would see her later. You were looking at him, a bit distracted by his beauty.

“What are you thinking of?” he asked softly. He was sat on his chair, a hand under his chin, looking at you.

“Nothing,” you said, coming out of the infernal spiral of your thoughts. Your hair was falling in front of your eyes and you were totally lost in what you were doing. You came quickly back to your tidying.

The man came up and took one of your notebooks. He put it in your bag and smiled at you. He was close, behind you. You could feel his breath in your neck, and it was making you shivers. He put a hand on yours and slowly stopped your mouvement. You looked at him, confused, and realized he was very, very close. You were hypnotized by his blue eyes, slightly parting your lips to help you breathe. His other hand came to your face, softly brushing your cheek before putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sir… It is not good.” you whispered.

“But you like it...” he said, kissing your temple. “And stop calling me like that. My name’s Roger. Please.”

His hands came on your belly, tightening them around your body. You whined silently when his teeths were nipping the skin of your neck, and closed your eyes.

“Roger… stop that… Please…” you pleaded, gripping your hands on his, trying to get tear him from you even though, he was right, you liked it. You hoped he would never stop.

He pulled back after kissing your shoulder. Looking at you, he brushed the skin of your arm and whispered softly a “It’s not right but… You’re so hot.” that left you silent. Your heart was beating so loudly, it was frightening. You were sure he could hear it. His hand came on your neck, touching softly your skin, then drifted to your waist. He hugged you without no warning. keeping you close to him. He was breathing loudly in your neck, intoxicated with your scent.

“You are so tempting.” he whispered in your ear, before he put a soft kiss. You kept this position a long time.

“Have you read Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov?” you asked, looking at his hand, intertwined in yours.

“No. Why ?”

“You should read it.” you pulled back, getting your stuff. You gave him a light smile and went out of the room. He was standing here, looking at your desk, saying nothing.

*

Early in the morning you came to the church to put the version of Lolita you had, with a paper tucked in it. Even though you were holding it strongly in your thin hands, you gave it to him. As he described how good you were looking in that dotted dress, you earned from him a “you’re stunning”. You lightly punched his shoulder, smiling.

“You’re in god’s house.” you teased.

You talked a bit with the blonde, before you turned your heels and walked back to your bicycle. He watched you go out, seeing your hips sway from right to left.

You saw him back at your class. You were smiling, listening to his lesson. He couldn’t actually don’t look at you. You were too bewitching for it. That eighteen young girl was making a old man’s head turns wild. It was so hard for him to control himself. He was taken by you even though it was only the third day you knew each others. The way your hair was falling on your shoulders. The way your makeup was making your eyes look. The little mole you had at the corner of your mouth. Those plumped lips he wanted to kiss madly. He was admiring your singular beauty.

It was late when someone knocked on your door. You were wearing a short silk gown, sipping a glass of wine, a cigarette in your other hand. The music was playing loudly in the cream coloured living-room. You opened the doors and was surprised to see Roger, standing with the book in his hand.

“I’ve finished it. Can… Can I come in?” he said, looking at your face. Trying not to be distracted with your long naked legs.

“Hm sure, Roger!” you smiled, letting him come in. You were a bit tipsy already. You lead him to your living room, puffs of smoke coming in the air as you walked ahead.

The living room was huge. There was two sofa, facing each, and a big bookshelf where you kept your records and your books. On the other part of the room, a big wooden table was here, and chairs were perfectly tidied. A bunch of flowers were put on it. The room smelled heavenly. Roger sat on one of the sofa and you took another glass, pouring wine into it. Your cigarette was tucked in between your lips, as you were humming the song playing on the record. He smiled seeing all those records. It was incredible. Buddy Holly, Serge Gainsbourg, Elvis Presley, Edith Piaf, Tino Rossi, Charles Trenet, and Brigitte Bardot, of course. There was a lot of plants in the corner of the room, posters of famous painting were hung on the walls, and some shoes were abandoned at the entry of the kitchen, where you were. He was firmly holding your book. Your jewel, as you wrote on the paper tucked in.

You came back, two glasses in your hands. You smiled, sitting next to him. He took the cigarette between your lips and put it in his mouth. The glass of wine you took for him was sitting on the coffee table waiting for the blonde to drink it. You smiled, kissing his cheek. Smoke was surrounding you, flying in the air.

“So… You have read this, huh?” you asked, so close to him, showing with a movement of the head the book in his hands. “What do you think about it?”

“I think that… It is accurate,” he laughed a bit, and lowered his eyes on the carpet. You were so close. It was pretty hard for him to focus. “But i can say… I understand Humbert.” his raspy voice was shaking a little. “You’re my Lolita.”

Your hands made it way over his, brushing his fingers softly. Your eyes on the book, you were listening to the music playing in the background, even though, your ears were buzzing loudly. A light smile was adorning your pink lips. Gainsbourg was singing Baudelaire, and Roger took your hands, standing up.

“I love that song.” he whispered, pulling you against him. He was not that tall, but you felt so vulnerable in his strong arms. He was turning on himself, causing you to follow his pace. You closed your eyes, head against his chest, as he said the exact lyrics.

Que j´aime voir chère indolente,

De ton corps si beau,

Comme une étoffe vacillante,

Miroiter la peau!

You could hear his muffled voice, as you giggled softly when his hands came on your hips. You pulled back a little to see his face. A large smile, and soft blue eyes were welcoming you. Heat spread in your chest as if a flower bloomed, seeing that beauty in front of you. He tightened his grip, and your hands brushed his used cheeks. How many women wanted to kiss them ? How many had kissed them ? And those chapped lips ? And that neck ?

Sur ta chevelure profonde

Aux âcres parfums,

Mer odorante et vagabonde

Aux flots bleus et bruns,

He stopped singing, as Gainsbourg took over, finishing the song. He was just looking at your lips, dreaming secretly to kiss them. You were gazing  in his blue eyes, lost in the moment. The hand that was resting on his cheek went in his hair, letting the fluffy blonde strands become entangled in your thin fingers.

Comme un navire qui s´éveille

Au vent du matin,

Mon âme rêveuse appareille

Pour un ciel lointain

It’s when you were too close, lips brushing against his, on tiptoe to be his height, that the thing you were unfortunately waiting for happened. As the record crackled in the back, your lips met. Shily at first, but quickly, it was becoming muggy. His arms were raising you slightly as your feet were on his, to be height. He was biting your plump lips, as you tried to pull back for air. His forehead was against yours, still devouring your mouth. The hand in his hair was clinging to a golden lock, and you whispered in the second he left your lips something he couldn’t hear. He parted a bit, whining silently, still against you.

“What have you said, honey?” he asked, brows furrowed. A large grin was on his mouth.

“I’ve said, I want to see you tomorrow.” you breathlessly achieved to answer.

*

Roger was waiting for you, in front of the brand new cinema of the little town. The blonde was dressed in blue jeans and a large white shirt. Sunglasses were protecting his blue eyes from the sun. A cigarette in his hand, he was smoking quietly. The cinema was a large building based on the look of the Louxor in Paris. The walls were in a cream tone, and there was gilts adorning the columns at the entry of the place. On the front was a big sign, the name of the cinema “Le Petit Louxor” was written. Beside it, there were the names of the movies broadcasted this week. It was a luxurious place for a so small town. People were coming in and out, often as a pair, laughing about the movie they had just seen or talking about their own lifes. His eyes shone when he saw that little girl he liked so much, walking quickly in his direction. You were wearing a red pouf skirt, and a light white shirt. Your waist was perfectly held by a black wide belt. Your hair was styled “à la Bardot”, as you liked to say, and cat eye sunglasses were sat on the bridge of your nose. The small heels of your sandals were clicking on the concrete.

“Hello there!” you said happily, facing him. One of his hand came in your wild hair and brushed a strand behind your ear. You assumed he liked to do that.

“Hello my love,” he answered, with a gravelly voice. He had a patronizing expression. Something that was making you feel comfortable. As if he was protecting you. Your eyes dived in his, as a large smiled lightened your face.

You entered in the cinema, hand in hand. The blonde man was making you laugh, as his arm gripped your waist. The receptionist was eyeing you, seeing it was not the usual dad - daughter relationship, as your ages could let him think. Paying the two tickets, Roger kindly asked you to keep two seats. You happily obliged, blowing him a kiss before you entered the screening room. The receptionist opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but Roger talked first.

“Do you know if there are snacks for the projections?” he asked, putting his sunglasses on his head.

“Sure sir.” the receptionist answered. “You want something special for your daughter, don’t you?” he wittily asked, not leaving Roger’s eyes.

“Oh…” Roger paused a second, “Yes! My daughter.” his voice was still the same. Internally he was kinda panicking, hoping the receptionist would shut up soon. “Yeah. Want something sweet. She love sweet things.” he said calmly. The man presented Roger with the menu, looking at him with a serious expression.

“Isn’t she a bit old to be your daughter? She’s about eighteen, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah. I had her kinda early with her mother.” Roger answered immediately. He indicated him the thing he wanted. The receptionist obliged, taking a box, and put the caramelized popcorn in.

“And she’s very close to you. Haven’t seen daughters that close to their fathers.” he said, handing Roger the popcorn box. His eyes were scanning Roger’s.

“Yes, is that surprising?” the blonde man was looking annoyed, clenching his jaw. “Are you insinuating that she’s not my daughter?” Roger’s voice was loud enough for people in the hall to heard it. There was a heavy silence in the room, as the blonde’s blue eyes were telling the receptionist to stop it. He gave the man enough money and pulled back, as the receptionist apologized, lowering his sight.

Roger came in the projection room quickly after the incident. It took him some minutes to calm down, as he breathed heavily against a wall. He searched you with his eyes, sunglasses on to see better, describing every mop of hair he could see. He find you and walked quickly to your seat. You jumped a little when he sat but smiled, taking his free hand in yours.

“You got popcorn!” your eyes were shining, seeing the box “Why were you so long?” you whispered in his ear. He gave you the popcorn box and smiled to you.

“There was a lot of people, don’t worry.” his hand came on your cheek only to guide your lips to his.

He was craving for this kiss, and since nobody was around you, he allowed himself to fall in it. You answered it hungrily, breathing a bit heavily against him. His other hand brushed the skin of your thigh, under your red skirt. Your heart raced, closing your eyes, savouring his mouth. The movie began as he left your lips. His hand was still on your leg, and was brushing softly the skin. You were so focused on the movie that you had not felt his fingers groping higher.

You were hypnotized by the women playing in front of you. They were fabulous. A hand in the popcorn box, your eyes were stuck on the silver screen. When Brigitte Bardot came in the scene, you squealed, a big smile adorning your beautiful lips. He loved how you were admiring this actress. It was cute.

His eyes fell on your neck, and your revealed shoulders. He rolled his eyes, has he saw the plumness of your chest in that shirt. Suddenly, your breath hitched as he pressed a his hand higher on your core. You tried to keep your eyes on the screen but it was becoming difficult. He was looking at the way you were biting your lips, and it was making him dangerously packed in his trousers. You turned your head to face him. Your cheeks were bright red, closing your eyes, letting your forehead rest against his shoulder. He already loved that expression on your perfect face. He brought a shaking hand to your hair, as he felt your thin finger near his bulge. He kissed your head, closing his eyes. He couldn’t focus for a second, under the shock of your touch. His dream was becoming reality.

“You don’t have to, love…” he whispered, rising your head up with a finger.

“I want to.” you said with a smooth voice. He kissed your lips softly, as your eyes met.

Your hand came on his bulge, beginning to stroke him kindly through the fabric. He let out a throaty chuckle, clenching his fist in the material of your skirt. You smiled, kissing his cheek. He was beginning To breathe heavily as your hands opened his trousers. In the dimmed light of the cinema, you could see his muscles tense. His mouth was slightly parted and he let out a small whine when your delicate hand surrounded his thick cock. You put a finger over his lips, offering him a small grin. You began to pump your fist up and down his shaft. His head fell on the back of his seat. It was when the lights were on that he realized where you were. He pushed your hand gently, trying to dress up quickly, before someone saw anything. He was breathing heavily, a hand in his own hair. He looked totally fantastic. His wild hair entangled was surrounding his beautiful face. You decided it was your favourite side of Roger.

The afternoon class was difficult to focus. Roger's eyes were stuck on yours, as you were trying to really follow the lesson.  But his smile was coming right to your heart, making you indiscreetly blush. Madeleine was feeling something between you. She was afraid for her friend. That's why at the end of the class, she took suddenly your hand, letting your stuff on your desk.  You eyed Roger, sending him a sorry look.

She waited for people to go and pushed you against the wall. Her angelic blonde hair was falling in front of her baby blue eyes. She was worrying.

“What are you doing?” Madeleine asked. She was breathing heavily, biting nervously her lips.

“What ?” you answered, genuinely lost.

“What are you doing with the professor ?” her question was making your ears buzz. You lowered your sight as Madeleine chuckled sarcastically.

“Oh my …. no.” she pulled back a little, looking at your guilty face. She seemed more surprised then shocked but, Madeleine’s brows furrowed in a disgusted pout. “You are not Brigitte Bardot. You can't make love to whoever you want !” Madeleine’s voice rose, as she carried on “Especially if he's almost forty years older than you!”

“Madeleine… you're only fifteen… You can’t understand.” you mumbled, not looking at her.

“I can understand that you're family would be dishonored if people are aware of it !” the little blonde girl was shaking. Looking at you in the eyes. “look at me for god’s sake.” she said. “you're totally lost Y/N. I’m afraid you'll do thing you would regret..”

Roger opened the door, looking at you two. Madeleine shot him a killer look and turned to go away. His blue eyes followed Madeleine’s path as he handed you your abandoned bag. You were staring at the cobblestoned floor, letting a tear dive on your cheek. His large hands lift up your chin to take a look at your face.

“What do you think about a picnic tonight ?” he asked gently.

*

The ashes of your cigarette were carried away by the soft breeze. You were sat on a thin flowery tablecloth, put in a huge pasture. Your knees were against your chest, as you smoked peacefully, listening to the light lapping of the nearest river. Roger’s eyes were on you, describing your skin and the little moles on it. He was laying next to you, letting a puff of smoke out as he put his cigarette away from his chapped lips. The light was weak, but soon, orangey tones made it way to enlighten both of your silhouettes.

After the discussion with Madeleine, he tried to distract you. He helped you made meal and had kissed you everywhere your skin was not covered, beginning to your legs, and ending in your neck. You were totally dazed by his mouth. However, you two made your way in the nearest forrest you could find. You were squirming on your seat as Roger put on the radio of his car. Your hair was totally free, flying in the hot air. Everytime his eyes were put on you, he could not retain himself to be more and more admirative about you. He was totally breath taken by your beautiful boldness.

You turned your head to meet his eyes. Grinning a bit, you moved from your spot to get closer from him. As you straddled his hips, you finished your cigarette, crashing it in the bowl serving as an ashtray.

“You make me feel alive, Roger…” you whispered, leaning to kiss his lips. Shivers went down his spine as his free hand came on your cheek.

The hand kept it way to your unruly hair, as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You moaned softly against his lips, closing your eyes. He parted the space between you slightly.

“You make me feel young again.” he finally said. You hummed against him, as your hand resting on his chest came higher to get stuck in his hair.

He kissed your neck, slowly lowering his kisses. His head fall on your décolleté and your breath hitched in your throat. You were holding his head against your breasts, as he kissed them hungrily. The soft whimpers escaping from your lips broke the loud silence of the pasture you were in. It was making him crazy as he untied the buttons of your shirt, living your in only a white lacy bra. He took a moment to look at you, rolling his eyes in front of that forbidden beauty. You were so pure, dressed in white, your wild hair falling on your shoulders, your pink lips hardly parted.

“Please… Roger… touch me.” you said, as he was deep in his thoughts. Your voice startled him. After a short pause, he smiled, having an idea.

“Take your knickers off and sit on my face.” his deep raspy voice said.

You looked at him, confused, but obliged. You began to undo the zipper of your skirt but he stopped you, pulling it up again. His experienced hands came on the sides of your hips, under the material of your skirt, and lowered your cotton white knickers. You were shuddering under his touch, never leaving him with your eyes. He pulled them aside and laid down again on the tablecloth, waiting for you to come closer. You shily kneeled over his face and his hand did the final motion.

As his lips met your core, you closed your eyes, opening your mouth. You were discovering something totally new, and so pleasant. His face was hidden under the pouf skirt and your hands searched something to grab. You put some material aside, as you groped for his blonde strands. You were moaning quietly, riding his face and moving your hips unconsciously. His tongue came on your rosebud, tickling it gently. One strap of your bra fell on your shoulder, freeing one of your breast. The hot air took you by surprise, rising goosebumps on your skin. One of his hands was laying against your butt as another came higher to brush those unoccupied breast. You clenched your jaw, trying to muffle your moans, as a strand of your hair fell on your face.

“I want to hear you, my little Lolita.” he muttered against your core. You moaned suddenly at the vibrations under you. It was enough for you. The hand on your breast came on your hips to help you stand as he was feeling you fall.

“I’m… I’m going to…” you achieved to state. Your eyes were firmly closed, as a wave of pleasure shot you. You whimpered, legs shaking. Your breath was stuck in your throat as Roger continuously eat you out. “Oh… Oh my lord…” you were riding your orgasm, fingers strongly gripping to his golden locks. A tear fell down on your cheek as your oversensitivity was crushed by another orgasm. “S..Stop.. Please.”

He complied, kissing a last time you thigh. You jumped a bit at the sensation. Exhausted, you laid on the tablecloth, next to him. He brushed your hair in silence, letting you come back around. Eyes closed, a thin veil of sweat was adorning your half naked chest raising up and down. He was staring at you with admiration, so hard in his jeans, but not paying attention to it.

“I love everything about you.” his thick voice broke the heavy breathing sounds you were doing. “I love your beautiful face…” one of his fingers made it way to brush your plump lips, “your neck and your adorable little tits…” and then rested on one your your nipple, making your body jerk a bit “but above all… I love who you are.”

Heat came to your cheeks, as you heard his last words. You turned your head in his direction, wanting to kiss him. He leaned against you, meeting your lips gently. At the same time, he was undoing the zipper of your skirt, leaving you in only your white half untied bra.

“You’re here again.” he happily said.

“Sorry.. That was pretty overwhelming for a first time…” You were a bit embarrassed. A gentle chuckle came out of his lips.

“I promise it will be perfect.” he whispered, a hand in your hair. A big grin made it way on your face. A long silence came between you two.

“You’re wearing too much things… I want you to remove all that.” you said softly, caressing his cheek with your open hand.

In a second, his clothes were put aside with yours. Roger was over you, a hand on your waist. He was kissing your neck hungrily. You could feel him hard against your thighs. It was arousing you so much, you were dripping.

“Mh.. Do  you have something to…? Y’know ?” you asked, letting his lips alone a moment.

“A condom ?” he searched quickly in the pocket of his jeans, in vain “Shit. I don’t have any.”. Seeing your disappointed face, he brushed your cheek. “I.. can pull out?” he asked, his forehead against yours. You paused, thinking about it, but finally nodded.

In a slow movement, he laid you against the tablecloth. His hands roaming against your body finally stopped on his cock to hardly touch your wet core.

“Is that okay…?” He asked against your lips, kissing them every now and then. You nodded, giving him the green light to sink deep in you.

You winced a bit as he stretched you. Shaking a little, you closed strongly your eyelids, biting your lips to shut you. He was quietly moaning, feeling you so tight around him. Tears rolled on your cheeks, and it is when one met your heated kiss that he stopped every motion he had made.

“Shit, do I hurt you?”

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine.” you muttered, needing his lips again.

He kissed you again and again, waiting for you to be used to his length. He was wiping all your tears away, murmuring praisings like  “you’re doing so well my sweet Lolita.” or “I love how brave you are. You’re a good little girl.”. He finally moved. Pain was quickly replaced by pleasure. You found yourself whining in his arms, as he hit the perfect spot inside of you. He was groaning in your ear, his hips coming in and out. He came quickly, nearly forgetting to pull out. His hot stripes laid on your tummy, as you looked at the blonde disheveled man in front of you. His blue eyes were full of desire, but also dazed with tiredness. He was totally breathtaking. It’s when he snuggled against your side that you closed your eyes, resting an hour like that in his arms.

A dark veil had covered the pasture but you were so well, here, smoking against his chest. His hands were brushing your skin, never leaving contact. The puff of smoke coming from your lips was slowly pushed far away as the wind came against your bodies. It was time to move.

*

You woke up against Roger. The sun was illuminating the room. Your two bodies were intertwined in the pale pink sheets of the simple bed of your room. His scent was intoxicating, and you wondered if it would still be there tonight. It was a mix of cigarette, cologne and sex. Your thin hand made its way over him, to grab your pack of cigarettes. He was still asleep. Rising, you looked a last time at him, a large smile on your lips. He was looking so peaceful. His messy blonde head was against the mattress and his eyelashes were resting on his cheeks. His chest was rising up and down as he breathed softly. A thin veil of sweat was making his naked body shine in the morning light. You got up, taking his white shirt and putting it over your shoulders to cover your naked chest and your hips. You walked barefoot to your porch  sitting outside to smoke at the fresh air. You were humming a song as you lighten your cigarette. You smoked quietly a long time. Flashback of the night before were coming in your mind as you were little by little awakening. Your cheeks heat up and became bright red as an abnormal pain grew in your chest. It was painful but at the same time so good.

When you came back from your picnic, you were both exhausted. Half correctly dressed, your belt in one of your bags. Both of your outfits were inadequate and suggested what you had done. Your hair was untied, dress crumpled, shirt a bit wet. His was half opened, and his hair was in an endless mess. A lot of people were out tonight, and a lot of eyes were on you. Arriving in front of “Le petit Louxor”, you were the attraction of the night. In the yellow light of the streetlights, you were heading home together. You both didn’t fit in. He was shooting you enamored looks that weren’t discreet, kissing your neck sometimes. You were afraid of what people could think, however, your confidence in him was more important. And suddenly, a man came closer. Roger freezed, as he recognized him.

“Your daughter, huh? Old pervert.” the receptionist spat at the blonde. Brows furrowed, you looked at the man in front of you. “You’re disgusting. Look at you. She was totally…. pure.” Roger closed his eyes, sighing a little. He put one of his hands on your waist as he went ably, trying to avoid that man. Your breath hitched in your throat as the man behind you was yelling. “FUCKING BRITISH PERVERT! HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL!”

Roger was close to you, clenching his fist over your waist. Your shoulders were touching, as you accelerate your steps.

“He’s kinda drunk, huh?” he tried to joke, even though his face was dull.

As you put the cigarette butt in the ashtray, you heard the sounds of crumpled sheets  and a lazy yawn.

“Lolita? Come here with me,” Roger’s voice was weak and thick with sleep, as you assumed he was still in bed. You stood up and walked to your room. His face made you laugh when he saw you. He was in admiration, as if he had seen Virgin Mary.

“I like the way you say Lolita.” you said softly. He smiled, and repeated it loudly.

“It’s normal, isn’t it?” he tilted his head on the right, waiting for your answer

“No, you’re saying it with your accent and that’s pretty hot.” you came closer, snuggling into his arms. You could feel his laugh deep inside his chest. He put back the blanket over you two and closed his eyes, kissing your forehead. His arms were holding you close to him.

“Why are you in France, Rog’?” you asked, head in is neck, resting.

“Mh… Good question, love.” he paused a little. You thought he had fell asleep because his breathing was so regular. “I think i was fed up of England. People are not the same as here.” he let his fingers slip in your hair, brushing a bit the entangled strands. “And if i was still up there, I would have never met you.” you giggled a bit when one of his fingers bumped your nose.

“Haven’t you had friends, family, or .. someone you loved up there?” you were now looking at him, searching his gaze. The palm of your hand slipped on his cheek. You felt the beginning of a light beard.

“Oh… Yes. I had people like that in England.” His eyes lost yours a second before coming back at their initial place. “Hm… I had also a wife.” he said. “But we were not on the same page anymore, so she broke up and asked divorce.” His brows were furrowed, not looking at you anymore. You stood up slowly, hands on his chest, straddling him.

“I’m… so sorry. Ugh, i’m so stupid sometimes Roger.” you sat on his lap, looking at him. You were feeling bad. He lazily brought a hand to your hair, a light smile on his lips. You were describing his face again and again to be sure you would never forget it. His thin pink chapped lips, his big blue tired eyes with wrinkles at the corner, his little round nose, and his never tidied blonde hair.

“You’re not stupid, and it’s nothing, my Lolita.” he said softly. He grabbed the collar of his own shirt and pulled on it to kiss you. “You’re my present now.” you were kissing his lips, and closed your eyes against him.

“You are my present too, Roger.”

*

It was a long and hot day today. Madeleine had forced you to go to the lake with her after the english class. It was surely on purpose, even though you tried to stay with Roger. You waved to him before she pulled you out of the church, by the arm. There was now two days left before your parents came back, and the idea of Roger near your parents was making you feel sick. They would never accept that. Their little girl being with an older man like that. It was impossible. The lake was near the forest and the pasture where Roger and you picnicked yesterday. It was surrounded by tall trees that were making some shadows on the water.

You were both screaming as you tried to dive each other, laughing loudly. Your wet hair was sticking to your back. You and Madeleine were naked in the refreshing water. Floating on your back in the water, you were looking at the sky. Your smile was gone. Two days. It’s so short. She stopped a second her game when she saw you.

“Are you okay ?” the little blonde girl asked. You looked at her as she snapped her fingers in front of your eyes. “Hey ?? Y/N ?”

“Oh sorry. Yes. I’m okay.” you replied quickly. You let your sink a little to get your head wet, putting your massive hair back. When you rose to the surface, you were met with a fed-up Madeleine, that had her arms crossed for a second.

“You’re thinking about him.” she said bitterly. She shot her angry eyes at you.

“Yes, are you happy?” you answered, annoyed. “Let me think about him. Please.” you lowered your eyes. A sad pout was slowly coming on your face as you swam to get out of the water.

You took one of the terry towel waiting for you on the grass. Putting a strand of wet hair behind your ear, you thought about him. A tear rolled slowly on your cheek. Madeleine was feeling it, and she came out, wrapping herself into the second towel.

“Hey… I … don’t wanted you to feel sad.” she muttered, embarrassed.

“It’s not your fault, no need to apology.” you sniffed, wiping the tear off of your cheek. You offered her a weak smile.

“Do you… Love him?”

“I don’t know Madeleine,” you sat, facing the peaceful lake. “He is the one… who had taken my virginity.” you chuckled nervously, lowering your eyes on your shaking hands.

“You haven’t waited until marriage?” she asked, mouth in “o” shape. She was now sat next to you.

“No. I would surely never marry him.” another tear streamed down your face. “That’s ridiculous.” you said suddenly, wiping in vain the water falling from your eyes. “I am ridiculous.” A loud silence took place between you two. Her hand came on your back, trying to stop your sobs.

“You are not.” she finally whispered, petting your back. “I found that remarkable if you’re feeling well with him.” You lift your head to look at her. “I am just afraid of the after. I don’t want to pick up the pieces of you afterward.”

“Oh.. Madeleine...” you snuggled against her. Your heart was horribly full. You felt like you would sink into the ground if Madeleine was not here to hold you.

Tears were diving on your red cheeks, thinking about the end of this week. What if he ended everything because of your parents? You were not even an adult, legally. They could keep you away from him. Madeleine’s arm helped you to come out of your painful thoughts. She was snuggling against you, tightening her grip.

“You know you’re like my older sister, right?” she said with her little voice as you nodded. “I want you happy.” her blonde hair was gently floating because of the hot breeze. Her eyes were stuck on her own feet. “So let’s dress up. You need to spend time with him.”

She stood up, and you did the same some seconds later, wiping your tears away. After dressing up quite quickly, the two of you walked in the forest to go back in your little french town.

Madeleine abandoned you as you stopped in front of the church, hoping to find Roger here. The water lightly flowing on your baby blue shirt, you stepped in the holy place. Roger was reading a book, sat on a bench facing the altar. As he heard some distinct light steps on the paved ground, his head rose up. The book fell clumsily out of his hands in a loud sound, as a smile came on his lips. You quickly made your way to him and sat on his bench. Both of you let out a heavy sigh, and your mouths found their inevitable and comfortable rest. A whine escaped your pink lips as his shaking hands found it way in your messy hair.  

“I want you.” you whispered “I want you so badly.” panting against his lips, you smiled, as his raspy voice came to your ears.

“You’re in god’s house.” he answered, taking back the words you said to him at the beginning of the week. You giggled softly.

“Sorry, old man.” you quickly stood up and turned your back to Roger, making your way outside. He almost ran, his steps resonating in the holy building, to catch your waist and put a small peck on your head.

He smiled, as your head fall on his naked chest. His cigarette was burning slowly, letting a light cloud of smoke fly unhurriedly. The loud sounds of heavy breathings were filling the blue room. You were in his apartment. It was a small place, where only the necessary was here. In his bedroom, there was mostly books  on shelves, and dead cigarettes in some ashtrays. Though, you could see some “unnatural” stuff. There was a Tino Rossi’s record on the platine, and some french book less covered with dust. Finally the clue that made your heart ache, was the Lolita copy, in french. The same as yours. His blonde hair was tickling your forehead  a bit as your eyes drifted from the book to a lazy smile he was arboring.

“You bought it!” you said suddenly, rising on your elbows, straddling him. His blue eyes described your waist, then your little breast and his tired hand pushed away a strand of hair hiding your cheek.

“Of course i’ve bought it.” he paused a second.The hand that arranged your hair was now on your collarbone, brushing the little golden cross attached at your neck.

“I want to fuck you even more, Roger.” you said suddenly, kissing his neck. His mouth was forming a surprised pout, and his eyebrows rose a little.

“Who taught you that language, Lo ?” he asked, as your kisses were slowly lowering. You suddenly lift your head up at the nickname.

“Lo…” a large grin came on your pink lips. You grabbed the book, suddenly opening it. “Read your favorite bit. Please.” you said. He could see in your eyes the excitement of a child, as your hand rested on his chest.

He took the book in his large palm. You could hear the gear wheel turning in his blonde head. Meanwhile, you get up, searching a record for some music. You squealed when you put your hand on a Johnny Hallyday one. You placed the black donut on the platine watching it turn, naked in his room, not helping him to focus on which bit he would read. His eyes were stuck on your hips as you grabbed a shirt of his to cover your bare body. The guitar crackled as the stylus rested on the disc. A high pitched guitar began to play, as you faced Roger. A shaking masculine voice filled the the room. You were mouthing the lyrics, both of your hands in your hair, closing your eyes with grace.

Tout autour de nous

Les gens sont jaloux

Ils me reprochent surtout

D´avoir pour toi des yeux trop doux

Et de t´aimer follement

Mon amour

De t´aimer follement

Nuit et jour

Roger’s lips were parted in admiration. Your wild hair was tucked between your thin fingers. Your eyelids closed softly, hiding your beautiful eyes from the older man. Your pink lips moving at the same time with Johnny Hallyday. Your waist, that Roger was seeing by transparency, was half covered by his white shirt.  Your long legs. Everything was making him crazy about you. He was truly taken by you.  He stood up, a large grin on his face. He kissed your cheek as you opened your eyes.

Ça n´est pas gentil

Mais ça m´est égal

Je me moque de ce qu´on dit

Car moi je trouve que c´est normal

De t´aimer follement

Mon amour

De t´aimer follement

Nuit et jour

His blue eyes met yours, as his lips came on your nose, then on your forehead. Your hands circled his torso and you let out a small giggled that sounded like honey to his ears.

The record left you in each other arms, silently smiling dumbly, but smiling lovingly. You keep the embrace some minutes, intoxicated by each other perfume. Your hands came on his shoulder, as he guided you to the bed.

“I know which bit i’m going to read.” he stated, as he took back the book, laying on the bed. He opened it at the first page. He coughed a little theatrically and began.

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.”

He could see your eyes shine, and it made his heart burn with love. Just a little paragraph was making you happy. You gave Roger a small peck on his lips, as you took back your seat over him.

"Your turn." He said, his hand squeezing your thigh. You took the book. You looked at it and brought it at your nose. The smell. It was a new book and you loved the smell. You opened it at your turn. Your face enlightened when you would the right page.

"We passed on to a small pantry and entered the dining room, parallel to the parlor we had already admired. I noticed a white sock on the floor. With a deprecatory grunt, Mrs. Haze stooped without stopping and threw it into a closet next to the pantry." You looked at Roger, who was listening quietly. His hand was groping higher on your skin. "We cursorily inspected a mahogany table with a fruit vase in the middle, containing nothing but the still glistening stone of one plum. I groped for the timetable I had in my pocket and surreptitiously fished it out to look as soon as possible for a train." You marked a pause and sighed shakily as you reached your favorite bit. "I was still walking behind Mrs. Haze through the dining room when, beyond it, there came a sudden burst of greenery – “the piazza," sang out my leader, and then, without the least warning, a blue sea-wave swelled under my heart and, from a mat in a pool of sun, half-naked, kneeling, turning about on her knees, there was my Riviera love peering at me over dark glasses."

The last words were almost whispered, as Roger pushed the book aside to look at you. Your hand came on his cheek, brushing the exterior corner of his blue eyes.

"I never want to leave you, Y/N." He said finally. Your eyes shut to avoid the tears you felt coming deep inside. You took his hand, intertwining your fingers together.

“Me neither… But.. we’re not Bonnie and Clyde, Roger.” He tightened your hands and lowered his eyes on your collarbone. “We can’t run away.” Your own words were hurting you.

“You don’t understand. I can’t leave you.” His raspy voice said. A tear rolled on your cheek as you let yourself fall on his chest. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, crying silently. His large palms were petting your back.

*

The day after was pretty hard. You woke up in his arms. You were at your home, as you worked a bit your english with him. You were able to maintain a simple conversation with someone. He was very proud of you. You ended up making out on the couch, and then fell asleep in your bed. A cigarette came quickly on your lips, as you snuggled against his chest. He was asleep, his respiration regular and calm. Your fingers were making circles on his chest, as you left a puff of smoke out. You were dazed by the sleep. The birds were singing outside, and the sun was entering the room shily, spreading hot yellow tones on your walls. Your hair was entangled, witness of your last night. You felt a hand on your arm and turned you head to see him. He groaned as he squinted, not used to the light.

“How are you…?” you asked softly, a little smile on your lips. The smoke was getting higher. He pulled you closer to kiss your lips before answering.

“I’m… good. Nervous but good.” His brushed your cheek with his fingers and sighed. “You ?”

“Fine.” you answered quickly. “ I need music. What do you want to listen?” Rising up and getting off the bed, you made your way to your records. You were searching, mindlessly, waiting for his answer.

“Guétary.” he finally said.

You pulled a green 7 inch out of this and put it on the platine. As you pressed the “start” button, you turned the volume up. You came back on the bed, Bambino playing. You snuggled, naked, against him, closing your eyes. It was so good to be there. You were following the movement of his chest as he breathed. Up and down. Your hand was resting on his shoulder. His was on your lower back. He was falling asleep again. You were petting his hair, your mind flying between conscious and unconscious. It was your last day together. You tried not to think about it.

You jumped when you heard a feminine gasp. You looked up, eyes full with sleep. Your mother was here, shaking hands on her mouth. It was enough to wake you suddenly. Roger opened an eye and tightened his grip on your waist. He froze, seeing the likeness between the two women. One was in his arms, young and fresh. The other was approximately his age, shocked by the view.

“Oh my god…” the mother said, out of breath. Roger sat slowly, as you grabbed your knickers and shirt. “Oh my god! François… You… “

Heavy footstep coming from the living room came closer. You get up, cheeks burning and too ashamed to talk. Roger was still naked in your bed. He was totally paralyzed. A large man, tall with a big tummy came in the doorframe of your room. He immediately did a step back and look at you, then at the blonde in your bed.

“What the fuck are…” he paused a second. You could see his face turn red from rage. “YOU PEDOPHILE, GET OUT OF MY DAUGHTER’S ROOM!”

“He’s not a--” you began, voice weak.

“SHUT UP!” your mother cried. You looked at the floor.

Roger took his stuff, dressing up. The Guétary 7 inch was always playing in the heavy silence. Your mother was crying silently, as if something horrible happened. It should be your job to cry, actually, but you were just unavoidably empty. The blonde almost forty year old boy gazed at you a last time before just heading out. His eyes were full of sadness but not ashamed at all. And you could feel in the nothingness of his blue pearls that he was truly sorry for you. Though his eyes were so soft on you. They were always soft on you. Your father pushed him in your living room.

Eyes heavy with anger, you were avoiding the touch of your mother. She wanted to dress you up. Like a damn child.

“STOP IT NOW!” you burst out of rage, clenching your fists.

“You’re not playing that game with me, young girl!” Her gaze came from your bruised neck by your lover’s lips to the ashtray full of cigarette. “And you’re smoking.” she sighed loudly, to make her disapproval seem obvious. “You know you’re not an adult? You’re just a little girl. And that man is… truly disgusting.”

“Just shut the fuck up.” you mumbled, putting on your skirt. Your hands were shaking so badly that you struggled to zip it up.

“LANGUAGE!” she said as her hand slapped with violence your red cheek. A single tear rolled down your burning face. You tried to get out of your room but she pulled you back in grabbing your hair. You whined in pain, closing your eyes. She managed to get you on the ground, as you yelled. You gave in, finally kneeling in front of her, sobbing without tears.

“You are pathetic.” she said. “You are nobody. He doesn’t love you. You’re just something he could manipulate. You understand? A young little toy.” Her voice was distant and cold. “You are nothing.” she repeated, saying it louder. You breath was hitching in your throat as your heart broke. Were you nothing ?

You didn’t eat that day. You weren’t hungry. Though, your parents wouldn't let you eat. You were just in your room, looking at the cream toned wall. The night had now fallen, rain was pouring outside, and you were still here. Thinking about his face. His angelic face. You heart had been aching all day. You missed him. Missed his touch. Missed his words. Missed his voice. You closed your eyes, letting you slip in Morpheus’ arms. Your respiration was light, hair in front of your eyelids, lips slightly parted. You heard a weak knock on your window. You remained silent and assumed it was the rain. But another came, louder this time. You rose up on your elbows. You couldn’t see nothing, in the dark. The sound of the sheets crumpling under your weight came difficulty to your buzzing ears. He was there. In front of your windows. A bag on his back. He gave you a light smile. You were frozen here but managed after some seconds to open the window.

“You… Here…?” you asked, whispering so weakly that you were afraid he could not hear you.

“Yes.” his hand brushed your cheek, and he closed his eyes, feeling your skin under his palm. “Get your stuff, we’re going far away from them.” He jumped over the window and get into your room.

“For… ever?” you asked again. Your voice was breaking, not realizing he was here. You could not move.

“Forever.” he answered, hugging you. “Oh… how i missed you… i can’t imagine being away from you more.” He said in your neck. His voice was singing in your ears.

“I love you.” your shaking voice stated. A large smile enlightened his face as he pulled back a little. When he was smiling, his wrinkles were more visible. You were loving it.

“I love you more, my dear Lolita.”

You both jumped in his car after packing some of your stuff. You took some clothes, some records,  some pictures of Brigitte and you copy of Lolita. You were holding the frail book in your hands. Sat on the leather seat, you were looking at your feet. His hand was on your thigh, as he was driving away from this town.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“England. We need to get out of this country since you’re talking perfectly english, darling.” he teased. Since you were back together, joy never left his face.

“So…” you paused a second. “Can I say, we are Bonnie and Clyde?” your gaze was stuck on the dark road.

The headlights were drawing two big bright yellow circles on the concrete. You could hear the summer rain violently fall on the windscreen. Your thin fingers were toying -without really thinking- at your golden cross. As his eyes fell on you, he laughed a bit. He described you, silently before answering to your question. Your hair was free, but a black beret was sat on your head. A yellow dress with white scoop neck pie was adorning your body.

“Yes we are.” his raspy voice finally said. “And guess what? I am pretty sure it is so exciting Brigitte Bardot would make a song about it.”

A smiled came on your lips.

“I am sure also Gainsbourg would be in.” you completed.

As you looked at your lover, you were sure of something. You would never let him go. You would never let go that blonde haired man. Even if he was much older and wanted to find something with you.

As long as you were living, you would never let him go.