Ну как знаешь⁠⁠

пчхи

Комменты просто чудо!

Рождество с Ланнистерами

Ты мой подарок в этом году, они-чан

(И любимое, ток переводить лень)

His eyes moved to the red ribbon she had planted on his right pectoral muscle. He saw something in her eyes when she touched him. A recognition of firmness. After all, he was toned to perfection from weeks of rebuilding a church in Rokoray, along the northern banks of the Great Scarcies River. He had met a woman there who reminded him of his sister. He cared for her, taught her a fledgling example of English, had even found himself feeling love for her. That was not a sisterly love however. Then again… was this?

He began to open his mouth. Any moment his parents would walk downstairs. The look on her face said they were on the same channel. Everything he had just thought, she heard it. He spoke.

“Listen, when mom and dad go out to say hi to the Gelsons next door tonight, let’s hang back, go upstairs and fuck the shit out of each other.”

“What?” She answered, bewildered.

“C’mon let's do it. Let’s fuck. Haven’t we always wanted this?” He reached out to reassure her, but she pulled away, fear in her eyes. “Whoa whoa. Uh no I’m just happy you’re home from Africa. What the hell are you talking about wanting to fuck me? Are you seriou--” And like a blade being hammered on the anvil, his father’s voice rang out from behind him: “WHAT IN SAM HILL IS GOING ON HERE?”

“I can explain…” he stammered, but was cut off by the visceral scream from his mother as she began sobbing into her bathrobe. His father erupted, white morning spittle shooting from the corners of his mouth.

“NO SON OF MINE IS GONNA DRINK FUCKING FOLGERS COFFEE!” He belted his son in the face, knocking the boy unconscious. “THIS IS A PEETS COFFEE HOUSE!”

Drink Peets Coffee.