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mightyflamethrower · 1 year ago

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“Name me a single objective we’ve ever set out to accomplish that we’ve failed on. Name me one, in all of our history. Not one!”

-President Joe Biden, August 16, 2023

Joe Biden in one of his now accustomed angry “get off my grass” moods dared the press to find just one of his policies/objectives that has not worked. Silence followed.

Perhaps it was polite to say nothing, given even the media knows almost every enacted Biden policy has failed.

Here is a summation of what he should instead apologize for.

Biden in late summer 2021 sought a 20th anniversary celebration of 9/11 and the 2001 subsequent invasion of Afghanistan. He wished to be the landmark president that yanked everyone out of Afghanistan after 20 years in country. But the result was the greatest military humiliation of the United States since the flight from Vietnam in 1975.

Consider the ripples of Biden’s disaster. U.S. deterrence was crippled worldwide. China, Russia, Iran, and North Korea almost immediately began to bluster or return to their chronic harassment of U.S. and allied ships and planes. We left thousands of allied Afghans to face Taliban retribution, along with some Western contractors.

Biden abandoned a $1 billion embassy, and a $300 million remodeled Bagram airbase strategically located not far from China and Russia, and easily defensible. Perhaps $50 billion in U.S. weaponry and supplies were abandoned and now find their way into the international terrorist mart.

All our pride flags, our multimillion gender studies programs at Kabul University, and our George Floyd murals did not just come to naught, but were replaced by the Taliban’s anti-homosexual campaigns, burkas, and detestation of any trace of American popular culture.

Vladimir Putin sized up the skedaddle. He collated it with Biden’s unhinged quip that he would not get too excited if Putin just staged a “minor” invasion of Ukraine. He remembered Biden’s earlier request to Putin to modulate Russian hacking to exempt a few humanitarian American institutions. Then Russia concluded of our shaky Commander-in-Chief that he either did not care or could do nothing about another Russian invasion.

The result so far is more than 500,000 dead and wounded in the war, a Verdun-stand-off along with fortified lines, the steady depletion of our munitions and weapon stocks, and a new China/Russia/Iran/North Korean axis, with wink and nod assistance from NATO Turkey.

Biden blew up the Abraham accords, nudged Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States over to the dark side of Iran, China, and Russia. He humiliated the U.S. on the eve of the midterms by callously begging the likes of Iran, Venezuela, Russia, and Saudi Arabia to pump more oil that he had damned as unclean at home and cut back its production. In Bidenomics, instead of producing oil, the president begs autocracies to export it to us at high prices while he drains the nation’s strategic petroleum reserve for short-term political advantage.

Biden deliberately alienated Israel by openly interfering in its domestic politics. He pursued the crackpot Iran Deal while his special Iranian envoy was removed for disclosing classified information.

No one can explain why Biden ignored the Chinese balloon espionage caper, kept mum about the engineered Covid virus that escaped the Wuhan lab, said not a word about a Chinese biolab discovered in rural California, and had his envoys either bow before Chinese leaders or take their insults in silence—other than he is either cognitively challenged or leveraged by his decade-long grifting partnership with his son Hunter.

Yet another Biden’s legacy will be erasing the southern border and with it, U.S. immigration law. Over seven million aliens simply crossed into the U.S. illegally with Biden’s tacit sanction—without audits, background checks, vaccinations, and COVID testing, much less English fluency, skills, or high-school diplomas.

Biden’s only immigration accomplishment was to render the entire illegal sanctuary city movement a cruel joke. Given the flood, mostly rich urban and vacation home dwellers made it very clear that while they fully support millions swarming into poor Latino communities of southern Texas and Arizona, they do not want any illegal aliens fouling their carefully cultivated nests.

Biden is mum about the 100,000 fentanyl deaths from cartel-imported and Chinese-supplied drugs across his open border. He seems to like the idea that Mexican President Obrador periodically mouths off, ordering his vast expatriate community to vote Democratic and against Trump.

Despite all the pseudo-blue collar dissimulation about Old Joe Biden from Scranton, he has little empathy for the working classes. Indeed, he derides them as chumps and dregs, urges miners to learn coding as the world covets their coal, and studiously avoids getting anywhere near the toxic mess in East Palestine, Ohio, or so far the moonscape on Maui.

Bidenomics is a synonym for printing up to $6 billion dollars at precisely the time post-Covid consumer demand was soaring, while previously dormant supply chains were months behind rebooting production and transportation. Biden is on track to increase the national debt more than any one-term president.

In Biden’s weird logic, if he raised the price of energy, gasoline, and key food staples 20-30 percent since his inauguration without a commensurate rise in wages, and then saw the worst inflation in 40 years occasionally decline from record highs one month to the next, then he “beat inflation.”

But the reason why more than 60 percent of the nation has no confidence in Bidenomics is because it destroyed their household budgets. Gas is nearly twice what it was in January 2021. Interest rates have about tripled. Key staple foods are often twice as costly—meat, vegetables, and fruits especially.

Biden has ended through his weaponized Attorney General Merrick Garland the age-old American commitment to equal justice under the law. The FBI, DOJ, CIA, and IRS are hopelessly politically compromised. Many of their bureaucrats serve as retrieval agents for lost Biden family incriminating laptops, diaries, and guns. In sum, Biden criminalized opposing political views.

Biden has unleashed the administrative state for the first time in history to destroy the Republican primary front runner and his likely opponent. His legacy will be the corruption of U.S. jurisprudence and the obliteration of the American reputation for transparent permanent government that should be always above politics, bribery, and corruption.

If in the future, an on-the-make conservative prosecutor in West Virginia, Utah, or Mississippi wishes to make a national name, then he has ample precedent to indict a Democrat President for receiving bad legal advice, questioning the integrity of an election, or using social media to express doubt that the new non-Election-Day balloting was on the up-and-up, or supposedly overvaluing his real estate.

The Biden family’s decade-long family grifting will likely expose Joe Biden as the first president in U.S. history who fitted precisely the Constitution’s definition of impeachment and removal—given his “high crimes and misdemeanors” appear “bribery”-related. If further evidence shows he altered U.S. foreign policy in accordance with the wishes from his benefactors in Ukraine, China, or Romania, then he committed constitutionally-defined “treason” as well.

Defunding the police, and pandemics of exempted looting, shoplifting, smashing, and grabbing, and carjacking merit no administrative attention. Nor does the ongoing systematic destruction of our blue bicoastal cities, Los Angeles, New York, Portland, San Francisco, Seattle, and Washington, D.C. All that, along with the disasters in East Palestine or Maui are out of sight, out of mind from a day at the beach at Biden’s mysteriously purchased nearly 6,000 square-foot beachfront mansion.

Biden ran on Barack Obama-like 2004 rhetoric (“Well, I say to them tonight, there is not a liberal America and a conservative America — there is the United States of America).”

And like Obama, he used that ecumenical sophistry to gain office only to divide further the U.S. No sooner than he was elected, we began hearing from the great unifier eerie screaming harangues about “semi-fascists” and “ultra-MAGA” dangerous zealots, replete with red-and black Phantom of the Opera backdrops.

What followed the unifying rhetoric was often amnesties and exemptions for violent offenders during the 120 days of rioting, looting, killing, and attacks on police officers in summer 2020. In contrast, his administration lied when it alleged that numerous officers had died at the hands of the January 6 rioters. In addition, the Biden administration mandated long-term incarceration of many who committed no illegal act other than acting like buffoons and “illegally parading.”

The message was exemptions for torching a federal courthouse, a police precinct, or historic church or attempting to break into the White House grounds to get a president and his family—but long prison terms for wearing cow horns, a fur vest, and trespassing peacefully like a lost fool in the Capitol.

Finally, Biden’s most glaring failure was simply being unpresidential. He snaps at reporters, and shouts at importune times. He can no longer read off a big-print teleprompter. Even before a global audience, he cannot kick his lifelong creepy habit of turkey-gobbling on children necks, blowing into their ears and hair of young girls, and squeezing women far too long and far too hard.

His frailty redefined American presidential campaigning as basement seclusion and outsourcing propaganda to the media. And his disabilities only intensified during his presidency. Biden begins his day late and quits early. He has recalibrated the presidency as a 5-hour, 3-day a week job.

If Trump was the great exaggerator, Biden is our foremost liar. Little in his biography can be fully believed. He lies about everything from his train rides to the death of his son to his relationship with Biden-family foreign collaborators, to vaccinations to the economy. Anytime Biden mentions places visited, miles flown, or rails ridden, he is likely lying.

Biden continues with impunity because the media feels that a mentally challenged fabulist is preferable to Donald Trump and so contextualizes or ignores his falsehoods. Never has a U.S. president fallen and stumbled or gotten lost on stage so frequently—or been a single small trip away from incapacity.

So, yes, Biden’s initiatives have succeeded only in the sense of becoming successfully enacted—and therefore nearly destroying the country.

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hms-no-fun · 1 day ago

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What are your feelings on car centrists? I don’t want to need a car but I still want to have one.

when my friends and i need to organize a big trip to a box grocery store to really stock up, we rent a gig car and split the cost. ideally, there's a public fleet of vehicles accessible to people to use when they need it.

but also, there's no reality where we get to, like, zero percent car ownership. i feel pretty confident in saying that you are not under any risk of being unable to have a car if you feel you'd like to have a car. the idea is not to abolish car ownership altogether (at least not in the short term) but to reduce the number of situations in which the average person NEEDS a car. obviously if you live in the midwest where everything's a million miles apart, until you've got speedy frequent reliable rail and a solid bus network folks are still gonna want cars. this is a big fucking country.

which is why cars need to get smaller again! a big reason why there's a pedestrian death epidemic is that tax exceptions, tariffs, and small business grindset have combined to create a car market where you're most incentivized to buy an SUV or truck. unnecessarily big motherfuckers with awful sight lines and broad flat fronts perfectly designed for killing pedestrians. often spotless and rarely used for the kind of work they're designed for. at least china is out here actually making small EV cars oh wait 100% tariff on chinese EVs thanks biden the most progressive president in modern history!

anyway, i don't think there's such a thing as a "car centrist." there's no middle ground here. we already live in a utopia of cars. if you're a car, it's never been better for you than right now. investing massively in public transit does nothing to affect the existing quantity of car stock, but merely decreases our reliance on it. the kind of project i'm imagining here is something that will take decades of concerted effort to accomplish, along the lines of the New Deal works projects i grew up hearing about from my parents as these astonishing acts of human organization and ingenuity. no one is coming to take your car away, and no one is going to make it impossible for you to get a car any time soon. but wouldn't it be nice if you had a lot more options to get around besides a car?

#sarahposts #urbanism #car culture #public transit

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liesmyth · 6 months ago

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Asking because I don’t know how to tag properly/don’t have enough tlt brainrot followers on my own blog: I had this revelation that New Rho Could be short for “New Rhodesia” which would say a LOT about the original colonists of the planet (the trillionaires(?))

ooh this is juicy! For context: "Rhodesia" was the name given to Zimbabwe and Zambia by the British, after Cecil Rhodes (you may know him from the Rhodes scholarship. also the imperialism)

I started replying to this and it went horribly long so I'm gonna put it under a cut. My tldr is that I don't think it's a direct reference, both because of naming patterns in TLT and because I don't think the trillionaires who escaped earth would be referencing Cecil Rhodes on purpose, but I also don't think it's a wild leap to make.

I'm throwing this in the tags and I'm 👀 to know what people think.

On the name

I always assumed that New Rho was a reference to the greek word / letter Rho (ρ). This would fit both the naming patterns of the Houses (which are partly inspired by classical mythology) AND what little we see of the naming patterns of BoE, who apparently like to name places after ancient or mythological locations on Earth — see also: Lemuria, Ctesiphon wing, Troia cell.

Note that we actually don't know for sure whether "New Rho" is the name given to the planet by the locals or by the Houses — the only person who actually uses that name is Ianthe during her speech, so it may very well be the case that the Empire renamed New Rho unilaterally, and the name doesn't reflect what its actual inhabitants call it. I don't believe that's the case (because, again, it fits with other naming patterns BoE seem to have + to a lesser extent, I think there would have been hints in the text if that had been the case, extra jeerings from the crowd or whatever if they felt strongly that their planet had another name) I'm just bringing this up here for completion's sake.

About the trillionaires:

I've given a lot of thought to the demographic of the TLT fleet. Although IDK how widespread of an opinion this is in the fandom but, personally, I feel pretty strongly that the bunch of ultra-rich people who would have fleed Earth leaving everyone to die would NOT have been the kind of demographic keen to reference British colonialism.

Like, I think it's important to note that the "first wave" of ships that launched from Earth didn't seem to include ANY major politician from a Western country that we know of — they managed until the last moment to keep up the pretence that it was "just" the first of many trips, and to me the lack of panic points to the fact that many public figures weren't on board. The world leader John puppeteers is heavily implied to be the US president, and even he wouldn't have been on board. John's flashback arc pits him very strongly against the global north, but more than that — imo, it's telling that the only sympathetic governments he could get to listen to him were the NZ government and parts of Oceania. It wasn't just John vs. the West, or John vs. OECD countries. It was John vs. the uber-wealthy, and those exist all over the world.

What I'm getting at is: that the trillionaires weren't overwhelmingly white. Many of them would have been USamerican or British or European, but so many people on board those ships would have been Chinese, Indian, Middle Eastern, Russian, Thai etc. I'm thinking about 2024 data on List of countries by share of income of the richest one percent and List of cities by # of billionaires (keeping in mind also that in the NtN flashback arc, the stock market has crashed and the economy is in shambles. I would also assume that many Silicon Valley / tech fortunes have dramatically shrunk, and most "trillionaires" would be people who materially control access to resources.)

Basically what I'm getting at is that, TO ME, the TFL fleet was an escape pod put together by a group of people who had the means to decide they should save themselves and fuck everyone else, rather than a colonising project, and that most of them wouldn't be in a rush to identify themselves with the British empire. Many of them, maybe even a majority, wouldn't be white. They're the scifi equivalent of French noblemen fleeing the revolution. Uber-privileged people who became refugees.

Anyway. This is a book.

Everything I've written above explains why, TO ME, whoever on those ships made it out alive + successfully colonised a plane wouldn't be thinking about the British Empire in an especially positive light. However! TLT as a story doesn't exist in a vacuum, and Taz Muir (who exists in the world, and lives in Oxford) would 100% know who Cecil Rhodes is. I can absolutely believe that she settled on a Greek-mythology-inspired naming pattern and then, out of all the available options, decided to reference the colonialist whose statue got removed while she was writing the book.

#fuckyeahpostingshiton #SORRY THIS IS SOOOO LONG #tlt thoughts #elle tlt posting #ntn #new rho #tlt worldbuilding #tlt meta #ask

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years ago

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new year's eve // zhou guanyu

summary: a sponsor event in the big apple, white wine on linen, a chinese stain removal method and a red silk qipao bring zhou and y/n together for a new year's adventure that teaches them important lessons about self-love, intimacy and the joy of living.

pairing: zhou guanyu x female reader

it's new years eve, theres too much noise, i could barely hear my own voice. i always said you were too shy, but then I went off to cry. wish i'd never worn that white dress. you found me outside, looking like somebody died

warnings: descriptive panic attack, drinking in a social setting, mentions of premature labour, a little bit of a she’s all that-esque makeover, an iconic chinese grandmother, badly translated mandarin, mentions of body insecurity. the smut scene includes the following: oral (fem receiving), an absurd amount of touching (good god have you seen this man’s hands?!?!), cowgirl, post-coital dysphoria and insecurities, aftercare & sugar sweet zhou <3

author's note: i think that this could very well be one of my favourite things that i have ever written. . . .it feels very 'nick and norah' crossed with 'she's all that'. so without further ado, here is the final full-lenght fic of 2022, and i can't wait to go into 2023 with you guys : )

new york city, new year's eve.

he didn't want to be there.

in the big party thrown by one of valtteri's new york sponsors, lost in a sea of people speaking english that was too fast for him to grasp.

val had promised him it would be different, that zhou's presence was just as important as the finn's.

so why didn't it feel that way? why had the entire trip, meant to be a team bonding experience, feel like zhou was playing third wheel to valtteri and tiffany's winter couple's holiday?

and now he was standing in the lobby of some plush hotel, brushing shoulders with the self-centered american elites. he stood in the back corner, with an almost full glass of expensive champagne in hand.

he’s lost valterri an hour ago, with the driver swept up in a crowd of people who wanted his attention.

there was a commotion in the crowd, and zhou couldn’t tear his eyes away as a young woman in a puffy tan jacket and a long white dress came running, purse dangling from her hand and white wine running down her front, an apologetic waiter shouting after her.

zhou placed his champagne on the counter, hoping to catch the girl before she rushed out of the hotel doors, before he noticed that her phone had fallen out of her hand and clattered to the floor.

“miss?” he shouted, picking up the iPhone in its dropproof case, the screen lighting up with a stock photo from pinterest featuring a bouquet of tulips.

but she didn’t hear him, pushing her way out of the hotel.

so the alfa romeo driver saw no other option but to run after her.

“sorry to bother you,” he started, pulling his prada trench coat tighter around his body as a shield from the cold. “you dropped your pho-oh my god, are you okay?”

the woman was sitting on a bench outside the hotel, red in the face with tears in her eyes as she gasped for breath, clutching at her chest as she tried to fill her lungs with the winter air. she shook her head, panic in her eyes as zhou knelt down to meet her eyes.

“hey, look at me. I’m going to hold your hands, okay? I want you to breathe with me. gently in and out.” he guided her, trying to match their breathing together. slowly, he could see the color returning to her face. “you dropped your phone.” he said gently, pulling the iphone out of his pocket.

“thank christ.” she exhaled, taking the device from the driver. “I probably would’ve died once I found out I left it in there. I’m y/n.”

“zhou. or, guanyu, guanyu zhou, as you americans would say.”

“zhou guanyu.” she said softly, saying it the chinese way, with his last name first. now that she was talking more freely, he noticed her accent. australian. she was a long way from home. “I like it. it sounds regal, almost like you’re royalty. what brings you to the big apple? sounds like both of us are a long way from home.”

zhou sighed, taking a seat on the bench next to her. “it’s a promotional event for my teammate. I think valtteri invited me out of pity.”

“wait, valtteri bottas?” y/ns ears perked up. “I might be reaching a bit, but do you know his girlfriend, tiffany cromwell?”

“of course I know tiff. how do you?”

“my cousin is her nutritionist, she was supposed to be tiffany’s plus one, but her baby had other ideas and she went into premature labour, so tiff invited me along instead.”

the two young adults sat in silence for a minute as all the pieces slotted together in their brains, before zhou shouted in cantonese and y/n cursed under her breath.

“those cunts.” she snickered “I bet val and tiff planned this. they were setting us up, weren’t they?”

zhou laughed, a gleeful sound, his head tilted back and a few silky strands of his dark hair falling in front of his eyes. “it looks like we’re a few steps ahead of them.”

“I guess we are.” she laughed, brushing some hair behind her ear. “fuck, it’s cold as balls out here. and the wine down the front of my dress isn’t helping much.”

zhou looked over, watching the warmly coloured liquid soak into the thin white fabric. he reached for his own phone, fingers scrabbling across the keyboard.

“I have an idea. there’s this old chinese remedy my mom used to use to get dirt and grass stains out of my race suits as a kid. and if it can get grass out of a race suit, it can get white wine out of a linen dress.”

“I’m impressed that you even know that my dress is made of linen.”

“it’s a skill set. it’s not useful, it it’s a skill set.” the driver shrugged. “the closest chinese market is twenty minutes away by taxi. what do you think, y/n? do you fancy a new york adventure with me?”

y/n snorted “good luck getting a taxi in new york city on bloody new years.”

zhou got to his feet, running towards the street corner, waving his arm in the air. “taxi!” he shouted. “fuck, I’ve always wanted to do that!”

y/n laughed as she stood up, hobbling across the icy sidewalk in her high heels, trying not to step on the hem of her dress. zhou had successfully hailed a cab in under an hour, a feat that few accomplished on new years in the big apple.

he held the door open for her with a grin and a proper curtesy, a grin on his face as he said ‘after you, m’lady."

the taxi wove in an out of the new york traffic, turning down a side street lit with paper lanterns in glowing red and yellow. y/n watched on, entranced by the city that never stopped moving around her, fingers absently drawing simple shapes in the condensation that had formed on the inside of the window. zhou watched her with a tender smile on his face, completely at a loss on how to explain his sudden infatuation with the girl sitting next to him. he was drawn to everything about her: her loud mouth, her soft eyes, her gentle accent.

she was magnetic, and zhou was a refrigerator magnet.

the cab came to a stop in front of a small bodega, windows plastered with advertisements for chinese soft drinks, paper signs in calligraphy dictating the opening hours. the only thing written in english was the blinking open sign hanging in the door.

zhou paid the cab driver before taking y/n's hand in his and opening the glass door. the market had a cozy, homely feel to it: shelves packed with brightly colored boxes, a rack of brightly colored qipao lining one far wall, the spinning rack of postcards by the front door, the neon drink cooler that seemed to glow brighter than anything else in the calmly lit room.

it reminded her almost of the tourist trap market areas in sydney.

behind the counter, a young woman of about twenty-five leaned over the counter, a juul hanging from the corner of her mouth as she flipped through an issue of cosmopolitan. zhou went straight to the counter, striking up a conversation in mandarin as a shorter elderly woman with a bright smile emerged from the curtain hanging over the back room.

"what can i do for you today, young man?" the shopkeeper had a knowing look in her eyes as they roamed back and forth between zhou and y/n, who was looking at the delicately made qipao in wonder, her fingers dancing across the delicate silk. "condoms are in the third aisle."

zhou's face blushed pink, and he coughed to disguise the laugh that threatened to bubble over. "what, no, my friend spilled some white wine on her dress." he went on to list all of the ingredients he would need to clean the linen. "could you help us out?"

the shopkeeper nodded. "i'll need her dress. unfortunately, i only have qipao for her to wear in the meantime." she turned to the young woman at the other end of the counter who had just exhaled a cloud of watermelon scented water vapour. "mei-lin, can you help the young woman get soem fresh clothes so i can wash her dress?"

"a makeover?" mei-lin's eyes lit up as zhou called y/n over. "i'm finally going to get to 'she's all that' someone?"

y/n's eyes widened as she looked at zhou. "what's happening?"

"mei-lin is going to help you." the shopkeeper switched to english as she looked at y/n with a smile. "i trust her to get you settled, and then your friend and i will get that pesky wine stain out of your lovely dress."

neither party missed the change in the old woman's tone when she said the word 'friend'.

"and on that note," mei-lin said, breaking up the awkward silence. "i'm going to go pick out some qipao, and you can go straight to the back room so we can get this party started."

with one last panicked look at zhou, y/n retreated to the back room as the shopkeeper took zhou by the hand and helped him find the things he needed for his mother's herbal stain remover.

"first things first, call me melanie, that's the name that i prefer for myself. nainai is very traditional, but it's something that i love most about her." mei-lin smiled. "now, get that pesky dress off and we'll find something to impress loverboy out there."

y/n laughed nervously as she watched melanie hang up the qipao on an exposed pipe in the break room. "okay, so he and i just met half an hour ago, and is this not cultural appropriation, or fetishization or something?"

"semantics. i'm sure nainai would have given you other clothes if we had something other than qipao, but i think she's secretly excited about having the chance to show these off. she makes them herself, you know. she was an atelier in beijing before they decided to come to new york." melanie paused, looking at the four dresses she'd hung up. "mr. prada over there looked like a boobs man, is he a boobs man? and it's cold outside so that takes out the short one."

the australian tuned it out as she slipped out of her heels, puffer jacket and the soaked linen dress. a part of her was surprised that the wine hadn't frozen solid on her dress yet as she passed it over the paper screen to melanie, who was standing on the other side, seemingly having made up her mind about the qipao.

"what were you wearing underneath that dress? nainai makes lingerie too, i'm sure there's a box back here somewhere. she sells it on amazon, small business and whatever. my grandmother is quite the entrepreneur. let me find something that matches the qipao. we're going to knock mr. prada's socks off!"

by this point, y/n had discovered that it was useless to try and reason with melanie, and felt all the fight leave her body. besides, she couldn't remember the last time she had been pampered, and there was a part of her that felt a rush of adrenaline thinking about the alfa romeo driver's hands all over her body.

she was doing this for herself, and nobody else. something out of her comfort zone. consider it an early new year's resolution.

she was presently surprised in her appearance when she emerged from the paper screen, looking at the mirror hanging limply on the concrete wall. the red fabric hugged her curves perfectly, enunciating all the things she had once been insecure about in a flattering, pleasing way.

she felt sexy, and it was a foreign feeling. but it also gave her confidence, and that's when she thought she might break. for the first time, she wasn't wearing that big label that said 'fragile, handle with caution'.

melanie clapped her hands in glee. "you look stunning, absolutely wonderful!! huálì de! mr. prada isn't going to know what hit him!"

but also in that same mirror, y/n could see her messy, disarrayed hair, her smudged mascara. puffy eyes from crying.

"makeup wouldn't happen to be a part of this makeover deal, would it?"

twenty minutes later, she emerged from the back room as a changed woman, fighting the urge to draw into herself timidly, instead walking with her head held high, hair pulled back in a prim bun and held together with two red and gold hair pins.

"hi." she said awkwardly, waving her arm limply as zhou looked up from his phone, jaw dropping in wonder.

he had been in the middle of texting valtteri when y/n emerged from the back room, effectively taking his breath away. she looked regal and confident, something in her appearance that hadn't been there before. the qipao had a tighter fit than the linen she was wearing earlier, drawing zhou's attention to parts of her body that he hadn't even noticed before.

"hi. uh, wow, you look incredible."

"keep the qipao." nainai smiled from behind the counter. "it suits you. i designed it for a girl like you, you know. someone who needed an extra boost of confidence in herself. you wear it well, xiao niao. and if anybody asks where it's from, please send them over here."

y/n lowered her voice, looking at zhou. "what did she just call me?"

the driver laughed. "xiao niao. it means 'little bird'."

a simple term of endearment shouldn't have made her heart flutter the way that it did. it was the way the syllables rolled of zhou's tongue that made the butterflies in her stomach run rampant.

and she'd be damned if she didn't end the night in his bed, or at least with her lips on his.

and she didn't even know where this sudden rush of lust and self-confidence had come from. but she planned on riding that wave as long as she could.

“I’m sorry for cutting your gala short.” she apologized softly, pulling her jacket back on. “although i don’t think that you were having a lot of fun.”

zhou chuckled. “it’s fine. I didn’t want to be there all that much anyways. I only went for valtteri.”

“and I only went for tiffany.”

melanie gave them a knowing look from where she stood next to her grandmother behind the counter. “there’s a really good hot coco place around the corner, you guys could walk there if you wanted to.”

“what do you think, zhou?” she asked softly, looking at the alfa driver. “should we keep the night going?”

“the night is still young.”

nainai smiled. “here’s your dress, honey.” she said, passing a plastic walmart bag over the counter. “rinse it out in the morning and it will be perfectly fine. keep him, he’s a smart one.” the older woman laughed, pointing at zhou.

the two young adults left the bodega together, still dancing around hand holding, although zhou was ever the gentleman, holding doors open and guiding y/n away from the puddles and ice, still balanced on her stiletto heels.

nainai and melanie watched thoughtfully from inside the market. “I give them an hour tops before she ends up in his bed.”

“nainai!” melanie gasped. “I’d only give them half that.”

her grandmother shook her head with a grin and a small laugh. “she’s got him wrapped around her little finger.”

melanie grinned, taking another drag from her juul. “hell yeah she does. and I don’t even think she knows it.”

out on the street corner, once they were out of sight from the bodegas windows, y/n quickly zipped up her jacket, reaching behind her head to pull out the hair pins, shaking her waves out.

"there. this feels a little less cultural appropriate-y. melanie pulled the bun too tightly anyways."

"i think that your hair looks better like that." zhou remarked offhandedly. "and the qipao looks brilliant."

y/n looked at the hairpin in her hands, the cold night air rapidly cooling the metal in her hands. the pin was wrapped in a sleeve of red string, a silver dragon piece spiraling down the shaft.

"i love dragons." she remarked, twirling the hairpin around as she followed zhou in the direction that the shopkeeper had pointed them, desperate for a warm drink. "i have a collection of them, little ceramic dragons. i pick up one wherever i can, usually when i travel. this will look pretty neat in the display cabinet."

the hot chocolate bar seemed to light up the entire street. the interior was all white marble and subway tile, bouquets of pale pink roses on each table. ever the gentleman, zhou held the door open for her, his breath turning to vapour in the cold air. she thanked him, going straight to the counter, trying to warm up her hands as she held on to zhou's.

chalkboards behind the counter detailed the extravagant and overpriced, sugar-filled beverages, and y/n couldn't decide what she wanted to try first. the cafe was fairly empty, the driver and his plus one being the only two people in the line, and two of five in the whole resteraunt.

y/n supposed that it was because there were better places to be on new year's eve in new york city. they ordered, and zhou found himself tapping the credit card app on his phone against the debit machine before y/n even had a chance to get her wallet out of her purse.

"you didn't have to do that." she said softly as the alfa driver collected the receipt from the barista.

"i know. but i wanted to." he took a soft breath before the duo sat down nest to each other in a corner booth. "you're worth every penny."

"you don't even know me."

"but i want to. i want to know everything, y/n."

and for the next hour, that's what they did. talking about anything and everything, laughing at each other's jokes. it was awkward and comfortable and giggly in that way that you could only ever read about in books. zhou told her everything about racing, travelling, growing up in shanghai. they bonded together over hot chocolates piled high with caramel sauce, whipped cream and ground up oreo cookies and caramel chips.

"y/n, you've got a little something . . ." zhou's voice trailed off as he placed his delicate, slender fingers underneath her chin, using them to tilt her head back so he could use the pad of his pointer finger to swipe the whipped cream and caramel off the top of her cupid's bow.

their eyes met, a flash of recognition sparking between them as y/n's eyes fluttered closed, lips parting in anticipation as zhou carefully placed his lips against hers, cradling her bottom lip between his.

he held her as if she was made out of glass, like he was scared of making too many sudden movements lest she shatter. they parted gently, foreheads resting against each other before y/n broke, pulling him back in for an even fiercer kiss, her lips burning every time their lips made contact, arousal pooling in her stomach as zhou gently placed his hand against her neck.

"my hotel room or yours?"

_____

how alive she felt with his lips on hers.

they stumbled in through the hotel door, hands on each other's bodies with reckless abandon, jackets and purses falling to the hardwood floor as she hobbled out of her high heels, zhou's lips on her neck as she fell against the wall, pulling him closer by the waistband as she redirected his lips to hers.

he couldn't help but briefly wonder what his mother would think. deflowering a girl in a qipao? a girl who wasn't even chinese?

zhou slipped his palm up the small slit in the side of the qipao, running his soft hands along y/n's tender skin, goosebumps following in his wake.

"i'd strip for you," y/n started with a small laugh. "but i have no idea how to take this damn thing off."

"don't worry about it." he said with a soft kiss to her forehead. "i've got you."

she was shocked at how quick she had spread her legs for him, how safe she felt in his presence.

how alive she felt with his lips on hers.

he took his time with her once she was undressed, wearing nothing but the bright red lingerie, lace fabric dotted with hearts, his soft fingertips caressing her thighs, his lips following after. he wasn't even kissing her, just softly feeling every inch of her underneath his soft, plump lips.

"zhou, please." she breathed out. "i need you to do something, i can't take this."

"patience, bao bei. i want to enjoy you." the tip of his index finger traced the crease of her thigh, so despairingly close to where she ached to feel him.

"zhou." she whined, taking his hand in hers and guiding it over the lace. "i need to feel your mouth on me."

she wasn't sure when she had become this bold, when she didn't feel the urge to shy away during the most intimate of moments. didn't feel the urge to hide when zhou pulled her panties aside, pressing a feather light kiss to her clit.

and then the real fun began as he licked up her dripping center, probably making a mess of the hotel bedsheets in the process. y/n's hand flew to the back of his head as he slipped his tongue inside her, gently moving it in and out as he listened to her breathy moans, her head tilted back as she bit her lip to stop herself from cursing.

"zhou, please, just like that, right there baby . . . " she whined, before the driver withdrew his tongue and kissed her inner thigh, sloppy, sticky and messy.

"god, you're beautiful." he breathed before he mumbled something in mandarin. "i can't get enough of you, bao bei."

it was going to be a long, long night.

they welcomed the new year still wrapped in the sheets. zhou leaned back against a pile of pillows, his hands gripping y/n's hips as she rode him, her hands braced on his chest as he stared up at her in wonder.

this was round three, their bodies covered in sweat, hickies beginning to form on their skin as they huffed and groaned, y/n shaking above him as she felt her third orgasm rapidly approach.

"oh god, you fill me so well, baby. i think i'm gonna come!"

zhou's face was blushed and rosy as he tightened his grip, thrusting his hips up to wrangle another harsh moan from the back of y/n's throat.

she came just as the fireworks started to go off outside the window, bright colors from the flashes illuminating the room in shades of red and gold as her strength evaporated, her body slumping against his as his hips stilled, filling the latex condom with his seed.

"happy new year, y/n." he smiled, kissing the side of her head as she turned to look at him.

"happy new year, zhou." she grinned before she kissed him.

____

she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, sweaty hair hanging around her face, the red sheen dissipating from her face as she criticized every part of her appearance.

the adrenaline had worn off, and now she felt like shit. even wearing the prada t-shirt zhou had lent her when she got out of the bed to run to the washroom was another thing for her to judge about herself.

how had she been so careless to fall into bed with him so quickly? she avoided one night stands like the plague, and sometimes even in proper relationships, the act left her feeling like this.

feeling like she was just another thing to be used.

"y/n?" zhou shouted, his disembodied voice followed by a knock on the bathroom door. "i'm coming inside, okay? i'm worried about you."

the door slid open, and she wiped at the tears threatening to collect under her eyes.

"bao bei?" zhou said softly. he was dressed in nothing but grey sweatpants, loosely tied and hanging off his waist. "what's wrong? did i do something?"

"no, no." she shook her head quickly, wiping at her eyes. "you did everything just fine. you treated me like a queen this entire night."

zhou took her hands in his, running his thumbs over her knuckles. "it's just the adrenaline drop, sweetheart. you're beautiful, and smart, and funny, and this has been the best night of my life. and i want to keep this going. i want to know you better. how about you come back to bed, we'll cuddle. and then in the morning, you and i go out for breakfast?"

"yeah, i like that." she smiled, squeezing his hands in hers. "i really like you, zhou. and i've had a really good time with you, tonight."

he kissed her softly, brushing a section of her hair away from her face.

"come on, get some rest, beautiful. i'll see you in the morning. or, later this morning."

y/n laughed. "what time even is it?"

"12:45, january first."

"yeah, let's go back to bed."

____

Tags: @magnummagnussen @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @daydreamingleclerc

#zhou guanyu #zhou guanyu x reader #zhou guanyu x y/n #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #the christmas collection 2022 #f1 x reader #Spotify

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pacifymebby · 11 months ago

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Sam Fender / Christmas Morning

🐇 first things first I reckon Sam's taste in Christmas decorations is like classic kitchy British Christmas, you know we're talking tinsel, multi coloured lights, those stupid Santa teddies where if you squeeze their hand they start playing a Christmas song? Santa with an electric guitar or a saxophone and when you squeeze him it plays Santa Clause Is Coming to Town the way Springsteen does or something... Stuff that's fundamentally fucking awful but definitely okay and good at Christmas!

🐇 He'd spend a lot of December busy with work but he'd be looking forward to the relief of coming home and spending some down time with his family and friends, and of course you... You'd be all he was thinking about on his way up the motorway to Shields.. well you and the brew he's dying for anyway

🐇Gettin a take away on the night he comes home, eating it on the sofa watching home alone together, you know like this song vibes, low-key back to normality vibes.

🐇Drinking mulled wine whilst you finish last minute Christmas prep and he writes a couple of Christmas cards for people. Him low-key marvelling at how you've managed to organise everything and get the best gifts for people.

🐇 Christmas Eve down the pub with all your mates, you're definitely both working your way towards a Christmas day hangover! You know you should slow down but neither of you want to because it's the first time you've been out together in months and you're making the most of it...

🐇walking home drunk together nosying at peoples Christmas lights and rating each one out of ten. Laughing at some of the horrific blow up Santa's and snowmen in people's gardens, or the broken ho ho ho lights which now look like they're simply calling passers by an explicit name...

🐇your walk home takes ten times longer than it should because you're drunk and cosy feeling and you keep stopping for a snog and an "missed you so fuckin much"

🐇him being a fucking idiot and insisting that you leave a carrot out for Rudolph, realising that there are no carrots in the house so leaving Rudolph a thimble of whiskey instead...

🐇drunkenly scooping you up and carrying you up to bed, dropping you down kind of clumsily on the mattress, crawling above you with a proper cheeky grin on his face before letting him fall onto you and squishing you so that your squealing and giggling threatens to wake the neighbours.

🐇 he's knackered but he's still like an excitable wee boy on Christmas, keeps waking you up just as you're drifting off, teasing you with stupid questions, asking you if you think you've been a good girl this year or whether you think you're on the naughty list. When you ask him what he thinks he pauses for a minute, gives you that mischievous smirk again and tells you he reckons you're both on the naughty list...

🐇waking up the next morning with slight hangovers, you're definitely feeling a little bit rough and the last thing you want to do is move... Luckily for you you don't have to, Sam's got his arms tight around you and he isn't letting go for the world...

🐇spending the first hour of Christmas morning tucked up cuddling in your bed, he perhaps gets out of bed to make you both a brew and bring your stockings up to bed... Opening presents in bed, in your jammies, behaving like kids seeing who can throw their wrapping paper furthest.

🐇I feel like Sam thinks he's shite at buying Christmas presents and always really stresses about what he's going to buy you... Always worries it won't be good enough or that you won't really like it...

🐇in the run up to Christmas he probably frets about it and phones his mam asking for help, probably gets a halfhearted affectionate earful about how he should know what to buy his own girlfriend.

🐇but the gifts he's bought you are all perfect, cosy pjs, lush bath bombs and other little luxuries, your favourite chocolates, a bottle of wine, some vinyls and a book.

🐇and if he's feeling particularly like spoiling you a necklace from Swarovski for you to wear and never take off.

🐇you're accidentally late to his mum's house for Christmas lunch and you definitely get absolutely roasted by his family for being dirty stopouts who turn up to Christmas lunch hungover...

🐇Sam reverts to bring so teenage and laidback around his family, messing around with his younger cousins, him and his brother winding one another up... And when you see him holding the newest addition to the family, falling asleep on the sofa with a wee baby in his arms after dinner, you can't help how broody it makes you feel...

🐇spending boxing day in your jammies, barely shifting from the sofa living off left over deserts and Quality Street for days.

🐇so many opportunities for cosy kisses and snuggles under a blanket on the settee.

#sam fender imagines #sam fender headcannons #sam fender x reader #Spotify

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doyoueverwonderwhy · 11 months ago

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Suggestions re: Christmas dinner for 2?

We somehow got everything to work out such that my family is gathering December 23 (for a "everybody bring your favorite appetizers" party) and Greg's family is doing Christmas eve (for Chinese take-out at grandma's house), so we'll be back home and just the two of us for Christmas day. 😯

Special day breakfast is always Biscuits and Gravy, and I'll probably just do some snacky stuff for the day, but I'm struggling with what to make for dinner. Front runner is a Cranberry Pot Roast with mashed potatoes, green beans gremolata, and some kind of panna cotta for dessert.

I have a well stocked and equipped kitchen, above-average home cook skills, and not much else planned for the day so I'm open to any suggestions.

What would you make?

#food #Christmas dinner #first Christmas in the house ❤️#imo most complicated recipes arent that bad if you have patience and the right equipment

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kemetic-dreams · 2 years ago

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What 'Caucasian' means

Why do people in the US and UK (unlike in most of Europe) refer to European people as Caucasian?

The term "Caucasian" was introduced by the German anthropologist Johann Friedrich Blumenbach, who was busy measuring skulls in Georgia in the 19th century, and for no good reason decided that the Caucasus was the birthplace of mankind. He made division of Aryan, Semitic (Jews) and Hamitic (north Africans), just as it was written in Genesis.

We Europeans did not, of course, wish to be seen as having racial connections with Jews or Africans, and German Nazi extermination policies gave the term "Aryan" a bad name.

Blumenbach's theories have long been discounted in modern anthropology, yet his term lives on. This classification of white non-Jewish European was adopted by US immigration control, who needed to keep a check on the races coming in that were not black, brown or Jewish. "Caucasian" is just an illogical yet convenient category, and so it lives on, whenever we have to fill in an identity form: even if it is just an online dating site.

David Bye, Göd, Hungary

Whites tan to get brown, but naturally brown people stay out of the sun if they can in order to get whiter. Now "white" is a term of abuse, and "Caucasian" is a more innocuous way to describe us.

The paradigm of the “typically Jewish” nose originates in the craniological studies of Johann Friedrich Blumenbach (1752–1840). Blumenbach claimed to have evidence that Jews had an especially prominent nasal bone. Der Giftpilz (The Poisonous Mushroom), a Nazi schoolbook published by the Stürmer Verlag in 1938, provides an example of how such anti-Semitic clichés about body shapes were spread. It was printed in a first edition of 60,000 copies.

Blumenbach assumed that all morphological differences between the varieties were induced by the climate and the way of living and he emphasized that the differences in morphology were so small, gradual and transiently connected that it was not possible to separate these varieties clearly.

Although Blumenbach did not propose any hierarchy among the five varieties, he placed the Caucasian form in the center of his description as being the most "primitive" or "primeval" one from which the other forms "degenerated".

In the 18th century, however, these terms did not have the negative connotations they possess today.

At the time, "primitive" or "primeval" described the ancestral form, while "degeneration" was understood to be the process of change leading to a variety adapted to a new environment by being exposed to a different climate and diet.

Hence, he argued that physical characteristics like skin color, cranial profile, etc., depended on geography, diet, and mannerism. Further anatomical study led him to the conclusion that 'individual Africans differ as much, or even more, from other Africans as from Europeans'.

Like other monogenists such as Georges-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon, Blumenbach held to the "degenerative hypothesis" of racial origins.

Blumenbach claimed that Adam and Eve were Caucasian inhabitants of Asia, and that other races came about by degeneration from environmental factors such as the sun and poor diet.

Thus, he claimed, Negroid pigmentation arose because of the result of the heat of the tropical sun, while the cold wind caused the tawny colour of the Eskimos, and the Chinese were fair-skinned compared to the other Asian stocks because they kept mostly in towns protected from environmental factors.

He believed that the degeneration could be reversed in a proper environmental control and that all contemporary forms of man could revert to the original Caucasian race.

Blumenbach was regarded as a leading light of German science by his contemporaries. Kant and Friedrich Schelling both called him "one of the most profound biological theorists of the modern era.

In the words of science historian Peter Watson, "roughly half the German biologists during the early nineteenth century studied under him or were inspired by him:

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asiafundmanagers27 · 1 year ago

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China's Electric Vehicle Market: Powering the Future with Cleaner Energy

China's EV stocks are revolutionising the automotive industry. With a booming market and strong government support, companies are driving innovation and sustainable mobility. From advanced technologies to expanding charging infrastructure, China is leading the global transition towards electric vehicles.

#china ev stocks #ev battery stock #electric vehicle batteries stock #ev stock #chinese ev stocks

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mightyflamethrower · 10 months ago

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Iranian-backed militias have attacked American installations and forces in Syria, Iraq, and Jordan some 170 times.

Ostensibly, these terrorist groups claim they are hitting US forces to coerce America into dropping its support of Israel and demanding a cease-fire in the Gaza war.

In reality, these satellite terrorists are being directed in a larger effort by Iran to pry the US. out of the Middle East, in the manner of the 1983 Marine barracks bombing.

That way, Iran will be free to fulfill its old dream of becoming a nuclear shield for a new Shiite/Persian terrorist axis from Tehran to Damascus to Beirut to the West Bank and Gaza—surrounding Israel and intimidating the Gulf regimes and more moderate states like Jordan and Egypt into concessions.

These Iranian appendages have made a number of unfortunately correct assumptions about America in general and the Biden administration in particular.

One, after the recent serial humiliations of the flight from Afghanistan, the passivity of watching a Chinese spy balloon traverse with impunity the continental United States, the mixed American signals on the eve of the Ukraine war, the troubled Pentagon’s recruitment and leadership lapses, and the destruction of the US southern border, both Iran and its surrogates feel that the United States either cannot or will do much of anything in response to their aggression.

They see the U.S. military short thousands of recruits, its leadership politicized, its munition stocks depleted by arms shipments to Ukraine and Israel, and the massive abandonment of weapons in Kabul.

Two, they view Joe Biden’s serial appeasement as a force multiplier of these perceptions of American weakness. After entering office, the Biden administration begged for a renewed Iran deal from a preening theocracy. It sought to ensure calm by delisting the Houthis from global terrorist designations and sending hundreds of millions of dollars to Hamas and radical Palestinians to buy good behavior.

Biden may have agreed that Iran was the spider in the center of the Middle East Islamic terrorist web, but only thereby to win over it with bribes such as lifting embargoes and sanctions to ensure an Iranian windfall of $90 or more billion in oil sales revenue.

Biden greenlighted a bribery payment of $6 billion to Iran to return American hostages, thereby ensuring more will be taken. It loudly distanced itself from the Netanyahu government. The gulf encouraged radicals to believe they could coerce Israel into accepting radical Islamic states on the West Bank and Gaza.

Three, after hitting American stations and bases 170 times and seeing little sustained, much less disproportionate, responses, Iran and its satellites now feel they are winning proxy wars with the US.

They have all but shut down the Red Sea as an international shipping route—damaging Europe, Egypt, and Israel, which all depend on Red Sea commerce for vital imports and exports.

Iran has forced Biden to publicly alienate the Netanyahu government and push a ceasefire down Israel’s throat. And it has helped to spark international pro-Hamas protests throughout Europe and the US that timid and compliant left-wing governments fear could lose them close elections.

But most damaging are administration spokesmen who mouth the same empty script after each serial attack: 1) The US will respond at the time and place of its own choosing. 2) The US finds no direct evidence of Iranian involvement, although it clearly has supplied the attackers; 3) The US does not wish a wider war and has no plans to attack Iran itself.

Translated to our enemies, it means an 80-year-old non-compos-mentis president is in no position to prevent, much less win, a theater-wide Middle East war that his own serial appeasement has now nearly birthed.

Biden and the Democratic Party know, as National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan pointed out just prior to the October 7 attacks on Israel, that the administration inherited a deterred and quiet Middle East. And then it blew up on their appeasing watch.

Now they are terrified of a theater-wide conflict breaking out during an election year—a fact known to all of America’s Middle East enemies.

Biden and company have forgotten the ancient wisdom that preparing loudly only for peace guarantees war. To prevent war, it should return to oil sanctions on Iran, embargo its banking transactions, slap a travel ban on Iran and its allies, cut off all aid to Hamas and the West Bank, and restore a true terrorist designation for the Houthis.

US officials must stop aimlessly babbling. If the administration must speak, Washington should do so by conveying disproportionality and unpredictability. And if, and when, America were to strike, it should do so in silent and devastating fashion.

When serially attacked, loudly responding that we will only proportionally strike back and wish no wider war will only ensure a big, ugly one.

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tismeandmylife · 11 months ago

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so my friend has never celebrated Christmas before cause he's Chinese with parents direct from a small town in China so he's usually pretty free during the holidays excepting when he works at their restaurant

And this year we invited him to celebrate Christmas with us cause he doesn't work and why not? He just had his first Christmas Eve gift exchange/fondue night/board game blitz and he's grinning like a kid on Christmas not to be too on the nose lol

It's great, he's coming back tomorrow for Christmas brunch/movies/games/church/hangout time and to unwrap more gifts and his brand new stocking (!!)

He had tons of fun picking out gifts for everyone and receiving his own, he got a new hoodie and homemade blanket among other things and he's just grinning like mad lol

I'm so happy

#Christmas #bestie #love

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cornerofhell · 2 years ago

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A merry Christmas from the Rays

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

It was a cold Christmas Eve as the Ray family sat upon their family couch.

The tree shined bright in the corner, covered in an assortment of bought and homemade ornaments (some looking like the shape of organs if you looked close enough), everyone’s stockings hung right by the fireplace, awaiting for the big man in red to fill them with goodies (though only two members of the family believed in him at the time) and they all had just finished a good ol’ meal of Chinese takeout.

A six year old Glenda sat upon their father’s lap as Glen sat in their mother’s, Chucky’s arm hung around Tiffany’s shoulders as her arm wrapped around fifteenth year olds Bonny, Kandy, and CJ as they all sat tucked beneath a big ol’ blanket to keep warm.

Upon the TV was Home Alone, a classic. It was the last one for the night, since they’d already watched Rudolph, Polar Express, and such and it was late enough already.

They were at the point where Kevin’s family had come home and Chucky rolled his eyes in reply to it.

“And they have no idea that the house had been broken into? Bull-fuckin’-shit. That house would have been covered in blood. Or at least cops to check.”

“Well half the things in here would have killed them Chucky, I really don’t think they’re running on logic.” Tiffany replied, smiling a little at her husband’s pick

The family watched the movie end with its’ happily ever after and credits and soon they all began to stretch and rise to go to bed, well, except for Chucky and Tiffany. _________

An hour later, the two had finally placed the final wrapped gift beneath the tree, Tiffany fixing the nametag with a grin.

As she did so, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and slowly pulled her up to where her back was pressing against her husband’s chest.

“Now... how about Chucky Claus unwraps his own Christmas present upstairs?” The man gave a sly smirk, his head resting upon her shoulder.

“Not until Christmas. Don’t you know the rules Santa?” Tiffany teased, leaning in to the touch of her husband.

Chucky opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps caused him to shut it and flick his eyes towards the stairs.

The two quickly pulled away and looked to see Glen and Glenda coming down, both equally tired and rubbing their eyes.

Before either parent could tell them to turn around, they’d already set their eyes upon Chucky, Tiffany, and the presents.

“B-babies! You just missed Santa Claus! Right honey?” Tiffany’s eyes shot towards her husband, almost begging him to go with it.

“Uh yeah! Big guy just uh... flew off!” Chucky nodded, gesturing over his shoulder.

But the twins seemed... fine. They weren’t crying, or sad, or even buying what their parents were saying. And with a few words from Glen, Chucky and Tiffany knew why.

“It’s okay daddy. We know Santa’s not real. We were just thirsty.”

Chucky and Tiffany both froze. Tiffany’s face grew into one of sadness and hurt, while Chucky’s had one of shock and confusion.

“How the hell do you--” “CHUCKY!” Tiffany smacked his arm a little.

Glenda shrugged. “He never came when we were with Psyches. And Psyches told us too. ”

The two murderers both shared a look over the name ‘Psyches’, but Tiffany still held out hope.

“What about your brother and sisters? They believed, right?” She put on a smile.

Glen nodded a little. “Yeah... But they kinda gave up when they figured out that the only time they’d gotten presents were when they were living with you.”

Tiffany’s smile melted off her face and was replaced with tears.

Chucky stared at his children downstaris, then his eyes looked towards upstairs where his older children slept. He thought for a second before he took in a breath, before leaning down to his children’s height.

“Maybe uh.... Santa got fucked up. How was he supposed to know about you when Psyches, one of the most naughty guys ever was with ya? Maybe he wondered why a whole lotta presents for some awesome kids was going to a huge dickhead.”

Glen and Glenda stared at their father in confusion. “But he’s supposed to know who’s naughty and nice.”

“Well maybe there’s a mixup. He’s an old guy. Cut the fucker a break.” Chucky shrugged casually.

Tiffany stared at her husband in shock and slight awe, a smile on her lips as she watched.

The twins looked to each other, then back at their father. “Are you sure, daddy?” Glenda’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Chucky rolled his eyes. “Sure i’m sure! In fact, I’ll call the bastard and tell him turn his ass around and to get your presents right now!”

Glen and Glenda both gasped. “Really daddy? And Bonny, Kandy, and CJ’s too?” Glen questioned.

“Yep. Now go get your water and get back to bed or he won’t-” Before Chucky could finish, the two hugged him and quickly ran to the kitchen to get some water.

In a flash they were back out, chugging their water and heading up. “Thanks daddy!!!” Glenda called as they disappeared to their room.

Chucky smiled a little before he was suddenly turned around and kissed by his wife.

Tiffany pulled away, leaning her forehead against his, causing the usual sour man to crack a smile. “Do you want me to go get some more presents or..”

Chucky shrugged. “i got it.” And he went to go get his coat before his wife grabbed him. “Wait! Idea!”

----- The next morning.....

“WOW! MORE PRESENTS AND A PUPPY!!!!! THANK YOU SANTA!”

#childs play #child's play #chiffany oc #Chiffany #merry christmas #horrormovies #charles lee ray #Tiffany Ray #tiffany valentine #glenda ray #glen ray #glenandglenda #Bonny Elizabeth Ray #cj ray #kandy angelica ray #seed of chucky #brideofchucky

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