#Mexico's Next Top Model

[topmodelcentral]

Veronica Sanchez for Artist Community Magazine

~ Mexico (1) ~

[daltony]

"Mexico's Next Top Model" - Press Conference MEXICO CITY - SEPTEMBER 01: Actor Tony Dalton attends the launch of "Mexico's Next Top Model" at Bolle Antara Polanco on September 1, 2009 in Mexico City, Mexico. (Photo by Victor Chavez/WireImage)

[jeffreybower]

Ron Watches Drag Race Mexico Episode 8

I know, I know this is several days late but in my defense, I am not getting paid to this and I had a busy past few days doing things that actually get me money. So now that I have a little free time before I go do another paying gig, I am squeezing this in. Continue reading Untitled

[toxicanonymity]

🔥 tinder

3.5k / stepdad!joel x f!reader / stepdad master

A/N: Picks up after Fandango. Nothing has happened with the Mom before this, so ignore that hypothetical drabble.

Warnings: I8+ smut, mdni. stepcest, big girthy age gap, angst. jacking off, groping, oral F receiving. P in V but not with each other. cheating on each other, kind of. graphically overhearing your mom and him have sex :(. Joel's state of mind when he did it.

"Firm handshake," Joel says, then takes a seat on the other side of you.  Joel’s extra aftershave wafts into your nostrils and makes you tingle.  He asks about your date.  Jacques leans forward with his elbows on his knees to tell Joel about where you went for dinner and what you guys had. You glance over at Joel and a subtle snarl is forming. 

Joel is weird after his introspective drive home from your apartment. When you get back to their house, he silently brings the TV in for you, biceps bulging through his thin undershirt.  He sets it up in your room and won’t make eye contact the whole time he’s in your room.  Seems like everything went to hell as soon as you asked about their marriage.  

“Joel.”  He doesn't look. He bends over and his shirt rides up as he plugs the last thing into the TV.  

“Joel, what the hell” 

“What?” he snaps,  “What do you want?”  

You’re not sure what to say, so your default sarcasm spills out.  “What, you can’t tell?”

He rolls his eyes.  “Somethin’ you need right now, or am I done here?” He tosses the remote control onto your bed. He won’t even get within three feet of you. 

“You don’t want me to answer that,” you say. 

He scoffs and leaves, closing the door behind him.  

-

Thanksgiving night, your mom gets home and the three of you eat dinner together.  She asks how the movie was.  Joel blushes and plays with his food, but you smoothly start telling her all about the Exorcist until she changes the subject since she doesn’t like horror.    

“I was thinking, honey, why don’t you come with us to Mexico?”

“I thought you were going for a conference,” you say.

“Yeah, well.  You know how that is.  They wouldn’t have it at the beach if they didn’t expect us to have a little fun.”  She looks at Joel.  Joel is staring at his plate.  She continues, “We were gonna add a couple of days, make a vacation of it.  You could bring a friend if you want.” 

You nod.  “Or just the three of us?”

“Sure,” she says.  Joel puts his fork down and sits back in his chair.  “Ate too much earlier,” he says and excuses himself from the table.  You don’t see him again that night. 

-

The next morning, you go black Friday shopping with both of them.  At most stores, Joel waits in the car sulking, pondering his life.  You buy a new TV for your apartment, a few new bikinis for the trip, and your Mom buys Joel a bunch of new clothes.  You’re going to miss the shrunken ones.   After you get home, your Mom leaves to do more shopping and Joel watches football in the ] living room. You put on a new bikini and go downstairs to model it for him. 

“Well what do you think?” you ask. 

He quickly scans your body, his eyes not lingering anywhere.  “Looks great,” he says flatly, then looks back at the TV.   

You sit down next to him, elbow on the back of the sofa with your head propped up in your hand.  He tries not to look. 

“Give me a break,” he says. 

“I just wanna know if you like it,” you say.  

“Said it looks great.” 

You adjust the cups of the top. “It’s not too much?” 

“Come on, sweetheart.” He refuses to look.   “Just get outta here, okay?”

“Okay, I have three more to try on.” 

“Please don’t,” he says and adjusts the crotch of his sweatpants.

“I dunno why you’re punishing me for your own feelings,” you retort. 

He sighs as though too tired to even try.  

“Maybe I’ll go on that tinder date after all.”  You’re still not planning on it at this point, you just want Joel to loosen up again and hope the threat might help. 

Joel scowls at you.  He knows he can’t tell you not to.  He knows it’s not fair.  “Would you grow up,” he says. 

Your laugh is short and silent.  “I’ll send the other suits on snapchat.” 

You go back to your room and try them on, taking videos and pictures and sending them to Joel. “I dunno if the ass is too small on this one,” you say in a low, sultry voice, then turn the camera to the mirror to show  your ass hanging out of a cheeky pair of boy shorts.  You take some even hotter footage and send it all in real time. 

Joel doesn’t open the snapchats right away.  But soon, you hear the TV turn off downstairs, then he goes up to the master bedroom and closes the door. 

-

You smile to yourself and put on a robe.  He’s totally about to jack off.  Sure enough, a minute or two later, Snapchat tells you when he starts watching your snaps.  You tiptoe into the hall to listen. You sneak as close to his door as you can get without giving yourself away.  You want to hear him do it unrestrained by your presence. 

“God damn,” he sighs and your nipples harden at the sound.  

“I dunno if the ass is too small on this one,” you say through his phone, and he replays it.  “I dunno if the ass is too small on this one.”  And again.  “I dunno if the ass is too small on this one.” 

He breathes loudly and you hear the wet squish of his fist around his cock.  

“Uggghh,” he groans and you know he must be watching the one where you untie the top entirely and let it hang between your breasts.  Outside his door, you slip your hand into your swimsuit and touch yourself as you listen to him breathe heavily.  He audibly pleasures himself  while you put on a show and strip for him on his phone.  He’s so fucking hot.  

“Jesus,” he says to himself.  In snapchat, you must be pulling the swimsuit aside to show him your juicy cunt and how wet you are.  You brought your phone with you in your robe so you can see how many snaps he has left to watch. That’s one of the last. 

“It’s yours, Joel,” you say from his phone.  “Come and get it.” 

“Fuck me,” he sighs and the sound of his voice makes you lose control of your hand.  You put your hand on the door knob and open it. 

His phone repeats, “It’s yours, Joel.  Come and get it. . . It’s yours, Joel.  Come and get it.”  You see the reflection of the explicit video in his glasses.  He fumbles with his phone to stop it from playing again. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here,” he whispers gruffly with his cheeks pink. 

“If you’re not gonna come get it. . .” you say, putting your hands in the pockets of your robe and splaying them out to show your whole body. 

“Your mom’s on her way home right now.” 

“That’s what you wanna talk about?”  You take a hand out of your robe pocket and slip it into your swimsuit, dipping a finger into your pussy, letting your head fall back, exposing your neck as you bite your lip and touch yourself.  Then you snake your hand up your torso, between your breasts, to your neck.  You walk all the way up to him, stepping over a trail of shopping bags from the walk-in closet to the bed.  When you get to Joel, you put your fingers in his mouth and he licks them clean with his eyes closed.  Then you take his free hand and put it on your breast, slipping it under the swimsuit.  He does nothing to stop you. You start touching yourself again. 

He strokes his cock faster.  He wets his lips and breathes deeply as he palms your breast and watches you touch yourself.  

Then you hear footsteps on the stairs, and your Mom’s voice.  “Honey?” She must have left the garage door open while she was out.  No warning. 

“Shit,” he whispers, yanking his hand away from you.  He looks around.  You close your robe.  “Closet,” he says, pulling his pants up over his wet, hard cock.  

“No!” you whisper.  But when you see your Mom’s shadow arriving at the top of the stairs and Joel all disheveled with his lube right on the nightstand, you don’t see another option.  You’d have to cross the bedroom door to get to the bathroom.  

-

Just as you hide in the closet, your Mom enters the bedroom, and her paper shopping bags clatter against the door on the way in.  “It’s just you? Thought I heard someone.”  She’s headed your way with the bags.  This was so stupid.  So, so stupid.  You could have just tied up your robe and acted like you were getting something from their bathroom.  

Joel intercepts her.  “C’mere,” he says.  “Why don’t ya let me put those up later?” His voice has a seductive air about it and a pit opens in your stomach.  

“Joel,” she says accusatorily and laughs. “Were you watching porn?”

“What if I was,” he says.  Of course he’s still hard and pink in the face.  Terrible at hiding his humiliation.

“Hope you saved some for me,” she says saucily and your heart drops. She closes the bedroom door.  

This is a worst case scenario.  

You hear kissing.  So fucked up.  You plug your ears and dissociate.  What follows is a torturous symphony of breathing and moaning from both of them for the longest five minutes of your life.  You seethe, then you cry as silently as possible.  Of course he’s thinking about you - of course.  You gave him that hard-on. Is he doing it out of spite? Out of panic? Surely he could manage not to moan if he was only doing it because he felt like he had to.  He knows you’re RIGHT THERE.  Can he really  not control himself? 

While you’re still in the closet, you post one of your sexiest swimsuit photos on instagram.  Then you text Joel, “This is so fucked up. I don’t want to ever hear a word from you about my dates or instagram or anything else.”  You send him a screencap from Tinder where you’re confirming your availability for a date with Jacques.  “Hope you’re happy,” you add. “Fuck you.” 

When it’s over, your mom goes to the bathroom and you make your escape, wiping your eyes with one hand, holding your robe closed tight with another,  not even looking in Joel’s direction. You can feel him looking at you, though.  

-

You slam the door to your bedroom.  

Joel responds to your text, “You’re right, it’s none of my business. I’m sorry.”

That makes you even more upset.  You want it to be his business.  You get in your bed and sob.  

“I dunno what to say,” he adds. “I didn’t know what to do.  If you can’t forgive, me I understand.” 

You respond, “You didn’t have to act so into it.”

He says, “I was trying to make it quick. I’m really sorry.” 

You don’t reply. 

“I wish I could undo it. I’m sorry.” 

You don’t respond. 

He asks, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Fuck no, you don’t want to talk about it. Why would you want to talk about it?  You stay in your room for a long time but eventually go to the kitchen to get something to drink.  He must hear you going downstairs because it’s only a minute before he comes down, too.  

“Hey,” he says.  “You okay?” 

How would you be okay? You don’t have anything to say to him.

He says, “I was gonna, uh, go to the gas station.  You want a drink or somethin’?” You don’t answer.  

You go back to your room.  When he gets back, he knocks on your door. You don’t answer.  He goes back downstairs and texts you that he got you a drink and put it in the fridge.  

The next morning, you come down for breakfast and he’s there.  

“How’d you sleep?” he asks.  You don’t answer.  He watches you pour a glass of orange juice in silence.  You drink it and put it in the sink.  He leans against the doorframe from the kitchen to the hall, blocking your way.  As you go by, he gently puts his hand on your chest and whispers, “Hey.”  You look down at his big, veiny hand.  How dare he platonically put it on your chest? You take a deep breath, your breast swelling into the heel of his palm. 

“What?” you ask. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.  “Please forgive me.” 

You laugh condescendingly. 

“Or at least talk to me,” he begs with puppy dog eyes. 

You return to your room without another word. 

Over the next few days, you go back to your apartment and Joel tries texting you casually.  He snapchats you too, but you don’t answer it.  

-

A few days later, you go out with Jacques to get your mind off Joel.  Joel remembers your plans.  He’s still thinking about it. 

“Have fun on your date,” Joel texts you.  The nerve.  If Jacques is hot enough in person, you might give Joel a taste of his own medicine in terms of what Joel has to overhear.  You’re glad you hadn’t decided the location when you sent Joel the screencap, lest he show up.  

Jacques is hot.  You go out to dinner, then bring him home to your mom and Joel's house instead of your apartment. The two of you sit in the kitchen first and you make him a drink.  You continue your conversation from the date.  His voice is deep and smooth, but not as sexy as Joel's. You can’t help but compare everything about them.  You and Jacques take your drinks to the living room to watch a movie.  You sit in the middle of the sofa and Jacques sits by your side. 

-

Before you've even picked a movie, Joel walks in. He spreads his feet and crosses his arms, pushing out his biceps with his hands underneath them. Then he just stares at you.  He looks like he’s trying to restrain himself.  

"Joel," you light up insincerely. "This is Jacques." 

Jacques gets up and shakes Joel's hand.

"Firm handshake," Joel says flatly, then takes a seat on the other side of you.  Joel’s extra aftershave wafts into your nostrils and makes you tingle.  He asks about your date.  Jacques leans forward with his elbows on his knees to tell Joel about where you went for dinner and what you guys had. You glance over at Joel and a subtle snarl is forming at the edge of his nose.  You lean back against the couch since they’re trying to talk to each other. 

Joel asks, "So what'd ya talk about? Any common interests?" 

"Oh yeah, we both love horror movies," Jacques says. 

"Nice," Joel nods. "She tell ya we went to see the new Exorcist?" 

"Um, yeah. She mentioned it was good." 

Joel chuckles, then looks at you. "It was good, huh? You'll have to catch me up before the next one, sweetheart." He gives your thigh a squeeze and winks at Jacques. Then he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. "Where ya from, Jacques?"

"El Paso," he says.  Joel doesn't hide his surprise. Then Jacques adds, "My parents are French." 

Joel nods thoughtfully. "Am I sayin' it right? Jock? Or is it Jack?"

"Jack is fine."

"Nice." 

-

You interrupt them. "I don't think Hulu's working in here. C'mon Jacques, we can watch in my room."

"Now hold on, I'll fix it for ya," Joel offers and puts his hand on yours, reaching for the remote control. 

"Nah," you say. "Wanna try out my TV in there anyway."

“Alright,” Joel mumbles.  He runs a hand over his beard.  If he didn’t feel so guilty, he’d be losing his shit right now.  You’re sure of it.  He’s trying really hard to be fair.  You and Jacques get up off the sofa, then Joel stands up. 

"It was nice to meet you," Jacques says and shakes Joel's hand again. 

"You're the stepdad right?" Jacques removes his hand from Joel's death grip. 

"Guess I am tonight," Joel mutters.  

“Sorry, what?” Jacques asks. 

"Yeah, he is," you say, then look at Joel. "Where's Mom?" You ask. "Figured y'all were going to have some quality time."

"Your guess is as good as mine, sweetheart," Joel says, then briefly massages your shoulder before walking away to the fridge.  

-

You and Jacques watch Equalizer 2.  

Joel texts you, “Don’t do this.” 

After about fifteen minutes you respond, “?” 

“Please,” Joel texts.  “You’ve made your point.” 

You don’t reply. 

“I know I deserve it, but I wish you wouldn’t.” 

In another twenty minutes, you see the shadow of feet under your door.  A few seconds later, there’s a soft knock. “Gonna make some popcorn, y’all want some?” Joel asks.  You tell him no thanks. 

Toward the end of Equalizer 2, Jacques gets handsy with you and you welcome the advance. He’s not bad with his hands, but you also don’t hesitate to exaggerate your sounds of pleasure.  But that exaggeration turns into real enjoyment.  You relish the opportunity to release all your tension into someone else’s body.  Someone who wants you unapologetically and would hopefully never make you hide in a closet.  

Jacques has a big one, too.  You close your eyes and pretend he’s Joel as you’re making out and his hard cock is grinding into your crotch.  You moan into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel Joel's beard against your cheek.  Jacques whispers your name and says, “I want you.”  He takes his cock out and wraps your hand around it.  You grab it hungrily without opening your eyes.  You hear the tear of a condom wrapper and your breath hitches.  Your body wants it.  

-

Then the fire alarm goes off.  You cover your ears and Jack puts his dick away. You don’t bother fixing your hair or skirt. 

“Sorry!” Joel yells from downstairs.  The smell of burned popcorn fills the hall.  It takes him a minute to turn off the alarm, of course.  Jacques opens the bedroom door to see what’s going on.  Then Joel comes upstairs out of breath and apologizes for the commotion.  

“Sorry ‘bout that, guys.” Joel hovers there in the door with one of his hands on the frame.  

You cross your arms on your bed, and Joel’s eyes fall to where the bedding is messed up.   

“Well, It was nice to meet ya, Jacques,” he says.  “Lemme walk ya out.” 

Jacques is confused.  “I, uh.” 

“Um, I guess I’ll call you,” you tell Jacques.  

Relief washes over Joel’s face and he asks you, “Your Mom, uh, needs a ride, you wanna come with me in a minute?” 

Jacques looks back and forth between the two of you.  “Yeah, guess I better go,” he says to himself.  

Joel walks him out.  

-

When Joel comes back from walking Jacques out, he tries to be casual, but his body is clearly tense.  

"Really think he bought that performance?" Joel asks as he pushes into your room. He closes the door behind him and leans against it with his butt.  He looks at Find my Friends on his iphone.  “She’s ten minutes away,” he says and pushes off your door to approach your bed.  

"What performance?” you ask. 

"C'mon, sweetheart.  You were fakin' it."  He lifts the comforter and sheets and inspects them. "Dry." 

Your cheeks burn. 

He sits down on the bed and picks up the unused condom still in its wrapper.  "Least you woulda been smart." 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you ask.  “Leave me alone.” 

“Can’t, sweetheart,” he murmurs and puts his hand on your thigh. “I can’t.” 

“Then do something about it or get the fuck out,” you whisper.  

He slides his hand up your skirt and slips his fingers right into your panties.  “That for me or him?” 

You roll your eyes.  “Shut up.” 

You lean back on your pillows and he gets between your legs.  He hikes your skirt up and pulls your panties down, then plants his face between your thighs, lightly caressing them from the outside with his big, masculine hands.  “Gotta be quick,” he murmurs into your pussy, then digs in.  He sucks and laps at you and inhales deeply through his nose.  Your hips lift into his mouth.  You whine his name. He pauses and looks up but doesn’t reprimand you.  He penetrates you with his tongue and moans into your cunt. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you breathe.  He devours you ravenously, moaning and sighing, until your thighs tense and your hips lift and you moan his name as you come in his mouth and he laps up every drop.  

He tears his head away and looks at you affectionately.  He’s panting and his face is dripping wet from the nose down.  He kisses your inner thigh, then gives you a hickey there on each side.  

The garage door opens downstairs.  Joel stands up and adjusts his joggers to accommodate his massive erection.  He’s still breathing heavily.  He wipes off his face.  He walks to your door and opens it without a word.  He turns around and looks at you, then closes the door behind him.  

-

THANK YOU for reading and thank you so much for your reblogs and comments! Now more than ever. PSA: definitely follow if you're into this, because i'm shadowbanned and not showing up in tags. this also means i can't make comments or send or receive DMs. follow @toxicfics for notifications and @toxicrecs for reblogs.

-

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

a list of some summer movies/series 🌞

hi hi hi!! it's just me, your friendly neighbourhood little organisation freak of a goblin here to give you yet again a list of some seasonal movies and series. this time, say it with me folks, summer! as always, just close your eyes and point somewhere on this little list, or even put the numbers in a generator and go with whatever the result is ♡

autumn | winter | spring

🐚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ movies ⋅˚₊‧

roman holiday (1953)

jaws (1975)

friday the 13th (1980)

Indiana jones (1981-)

dirty dancing (1987)

the princess bride (1987)

paris is burning (1990)

point break (1991)

jurassic park (1993-)

before sunrise (1995)

a goofy movie (1995)

clueless (1995)

birdcage (1996)

boogie nights (1997)

i know what you did last summer (1997)

my best friend's wedding (1997)

parent trap (1998)

bilboard dad (1998)

tarzan (1999)

the talented mr. ripley (1999)

10 things I hate about you (1999)

the mummy (1999)

cast away (2000)

almost famous (2000)

our lips are sealed (2000)

charlie’s angels (2000 + 2003)

holiday in the sun (2001)

the wedding planner (2001)

the fast and furious franchise (2001-)

princess diaries (2001-2004)

lilo and stitch (2002)

blue crush (2002)

crossroads (2002)

how to lose a guy in 10 days (2003)

under the tuscan sun (2003)

the lizzie mcguire movie (2003)

pirates of the caribbean franchise (2003-2017)

sisterhood of the traveling pants (2005-2008)

monster in law (2005)

aquamarine (2006)

she’s the man (2006)

the cheetah girls 2 (2006)

high school musical 2 (2007)

camp rock (2008)

vicky cristina barcelona (2008)

fool's gold (2008)

mamma mia (2008 + 2018)

adventureland (2009)

bride wars (2009)

hannah montana the movie (2009)

the last song (2010)

letters to juliet (2010)

eat pray love (2010)

one day (2011+2024)

a little bit of heaven (2011)

soul surfer (2011)

the impossible (2012)

magic mike (2012+2025+2023)

the big wedding (2013)

lovelace (2013)

endless love (2014)

chef (2014)

the longest ride (2015)

mad max: fury road (2015)

the shallows (2016)

it (2017)

girls trip (2017)

baywatch (2017)

jumanji: welcome to the jungle (2017)

gifted (2017)

call me by your name (2017)

crazy rich asians (2018)

adrift (2018)

ibiza (2018)

every day (2018)

bad times at the el royale (2018)

tomb raider (2018)

the red sea diving resort (2019)

midsommar (2019)

we summon the darkness (2019)

spider-man: far from home (2019)

the devil all the time (2020)

palm springs (2020)

the last letter from your lover (2021)

raya and the last dragon (2021)

luca (2021)

uncharted (2022)

glass onion (2022)

do revenge (2022)

the lost city (2022)

the gray man (2022)

death on the nile (2022)

barbie (2023)

bottoms (2023)

anyone but you (2023)

la passion de dodin bouffant (2023)

road house (2024)

the challengers (2024)

players (2024)

twisters (2024)

🍦 ‧₊˚ ⋅ series ⋅˚₊‧

the o.c. (2003-2007)

america's next top model (2003-2018)

project runway (2004-)

h2o: just add water (2006-2010)

gossip girl (2007-2012)

private practice (2007-2013)

rupaul’s drag race (2009-)

the walking dead (2010-2022)

new girl (2011-2018)

the fosters (2013-2018)

black-ish (2014-2022)

jane the virgin (2014-2019)

grace and frankie (2015-2022)

critical role (2015-)

stranger things (2016-)

the durrells (2016-2019)

big little lies (2017-2019)

she's gotta have it (2017-2019)

the bold type (2017-2021)

queer eye (2018-)

station 19 (2018-2024)

euphoria (2019-)

roswell, new mexico (2019-2022)

valeria (2020-2023)

911: lone star (2020-)

outer banks (2020-)

bridgerton (2020-)

sex/life (2021-2023)

the white lotus (2021-2025)

daisy jones and the six (2023)

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Yale Climate Connections:

fter a spectacular burst of rapid intensification, Hurricane Helene made landfall just east of the mouth of the Aucilla River, about 10 miles west-southwest of Perry, Florida, at about 11:10 p.m. EDT Thursday. Top sustained winds were estimated at 140 mph, making Helene a Category 4 hurricane at landfall. We’ll have much more on Helene’s many impacts—some still unfolding on Friday—in our next Eye in the Storm post.

Helene’s landfall gives the U.S. a record eight Cat 4 or Cat 5 Atlantic hurricane landfalls in the past eight years (2017-2024), seven of them being continental U.S. landfalls. That’s as many Cat 4 and 5 landfalls as occurred in the prior 57 years. The only comparable beating the U.S. has taken from Category 4 and 5 landfalling hurricanes occurred in the six years from 1945 to 1950, when five Category 4 hurricanes hit South Florida.

With the U.S. taking such a beating from extreme hurricanes in recent years, it’s worth reviewing how climate change is contributing to making hurricanes worse.

Climate change makes the strongest hurricanes stronger

As far back as 1987, MIT hurricane scientist Kerry Emanuel theorized that the wind speeds in hurricanes can be expected to increase about 5% for every increase of one degree Celsius (1.8°F) in tropical ocean temperature, assuming that the average wind speed near the surface of the tropical oceans does not change. Computer modeling has found a slightly smaller magnitude (4%) for the increase.

According to NOAA’s Coral Reef Watch, sea surface temperatures along Helene’s path through the western Caribbean and eastern Gulf of Mexico were about 1-2 degrees Celsius (1.8-3.6°F) above the long-term average. Using the theoretical results above, this increase in sea surface temperatures equated to a 50-100% increase in Helene’s destructive power.

Global warming increases hurricane rainfall

One of the more confident predictions we can make for hurricanes in the future is that they will dump more rain. Global warming increases the rate at which ocean water evaporates into the air, and increases the amount of water vapor the atmosphere contains when fully saturated. This result is about 7% more water vapor in saturated air for every 1°C of ocean warming. This increase in atmospheric water vapor can cause a much larger increase in hurricane rainfall than one might surmise, since water vapor retains the heat energy that was required to evaporate the water, and when the water vapor condenses into rain, this latent heat is released. The extra heat helps power the hurricane, making it larger and more intense, allowing it to pull in water vapor from an even larger area and thus dump more rain.

Climate change causes more rapidly intensifying hurricanes

As discussed in detail in our 2020 post, rapidly intensifying hurricanes like Helene, Ida, Michael, Laura, and Harvey that strengthen just before landfall are among the most dangerous storms as they can catch forecasters and populations off guard, risking inadequate evacuation efforts and large casualties. Unfortunately, not only is human-caused climate change making the strongest hurricanes stronger, but it is also making dangerous rapidly intensifying hurricanes like Helene more common.

According to research published in 2019 in Nature Communications, “Recent increases in tropical cyclone intensification rates,” Atlantic hurricanes showed “highly unusual” upward trends in rapid intensification during the period 1982–2009, trends that can be explained only by including human-caused climate change as a contributing cause. The largest change occurred in the strongest 5% of storms: For those, 24-hour intensification rates increased by about 3-4 mph per decade between 1982 and 2009.

Sea level rise increases storm surge damage

Of the six tide gauges with long-term periods of record along the west coast of Florida, Helene set an all-time high water record at three of them (Cedar Key, Clearwater Beach, and St. Petersburg) – in all three cases just before or just after midnight Thursday night – and came in second or third place behind Hurricane Ian of 2022 and Hurricane Irma of 2017 at the other two (Ft. Myers and Naples). Sea level rise made these records easier to set. Sea level rise since 1947 at the St. Petersburg, Fla., tide gauge has been about 3.09 mm per year, or about 0.3 meters (1.0 feet) if extrapolated to a 100-year period (Figure 1). A substantial portion of this sea level rise is the result of human-caused global warming; the global sea level rise since 1900 is estimated to be about 7.5 inches (0.19 meters). Most of this rise has occurred because of melting of glaciers and because water expands when heated. Over the past 10 years, sea level rise has accelerated along the Florida coast, and the rate has been about 7 mm per year (2.3 feet per century) at St. Petersburg. Changes in ocean circulation and wind patterns, with climate change a potential contributing factor, are thought to be the reason for the acceleration.

[fernandomagicalonsomanydances]

In preparation for the Spanish Grand Prix I feel I must give my ranking of my top 10 on the Grid as some way to soothe the frustration that I have no way to watch the race.

Carlos Sainz Vazquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Birto Moreno de Aranda de Anteriuga Tiapera Deltun absolute king of my heart and the reason I got into this sport. The prince charming of Spain who's so classy and gracious and just such a good teammate no matter where he is at. With his powerful tractor beam big brown eyes. Long live the smooth operator! Vamos Carlos!

Esteban Ocon. Am I aware that this is like loving the problematic lead in a film or book just cause he has babygirl energy? Yes. Is that gonna stop me? Hell naw! I like his backstory, disarmed by his squishy little face, and I vowed to defend him from all harm like the minute after I watched him analyze Cars as being an accurate depiction of various racing aspects. Plus he's from the same region of France as where my family originates. So while Carlos is my F1 husband Estie is like my F1 baby bro. I will call him "teapot" it's a long story feel free to send me an ask about it. I will also call him Esteban "Can Do No Wrong" Ocon. Yes I'm fully self aware of how delulu I am about this man having no flaws (he does I've just elected to ignore them in favor of being charmed by the innocent face)

Daniel Ricciardo - I'm from Texas, I'm an extrovert, I'm legally obligated to stan this man to the moon and back. The Honey Badger is my spirit animal. Not the actual creature, just chaos gremlin Daniel. His energy is infectious and he brings the party and he loves my state. How could I do anything but support him?

George Russell - he was probably the second crush I got in F1 and I kinda love how in spite of his posh model energy he actually isn't from some moneyed or legacy background and he's so delightfully clueless at times "goat, sorry?" And the videos of him with kiddos he's so sweet and attentive to them

Checo - the Mexican minister of Defense. The down to earth friendly dad energy. He's just so solid and sweet and I love what he does to help mellow Max just by ya know being the chill dad Max never had. Also he an authentic Mexican, endorsed Tex-Mex so obvs I'm gonna love this man and wanna get tacos and drinks. He has that approachable energy and given the US's one driver might not even have a seat next year I gotta support our neighbor Mexico's driver cause I sure ain't supporting the Canadian nepo baby

Fernando Alonso - this mainly has to do with sex appeal let's be real. He's got that edgy bad boy kinda external vibe in some ways but then he's backstage arranging flowers and it's like "I could fix him and make him settle down" he's got charm style and is basically an immortal and foxy as hell. Let me try to domesticate this man please!

Charles Leclerc - sweet, I would vote him most likely to be true even while he's traveling abroad being swooned over and having fans handing him marriage licenses. He's just a little too type A for me to love him like I do my golden retriever energy chaos creatures and chill guys of the previous 6. But he's great and it's because of him and Carlos in the C² videos that I got roped into this sport so he's gotta make it. Plus after all the loss he's experienced he's a real inspiration in staying kind in spite of the pain of life

Max Verstappen - speaking of inspirations my traumatized ass can't help but support one of my own. He's an icon of breaking cycles. Yes he's definitely had his issues but he's matured in some ways and while I don't care if he wins or not on the track I'm very invested in him winning at life which him being a doting stepdad to Penelope is the kind of healing that helps me heal too. Children of hard ass dads who didn't realize their childhood was fucked up, unite! Plus he's an absolute goofball and that's endearing

Logan Sargent - I'm american, independence day is literally my favorite holiday, I have to have this man in my top 10 and I genuinely do think he's a classy guy (especially considering he's from Florida) and I can't help but love how the one American driver is just so painfully American looking. He looks like Captain America fucked an apple pie. He looks like scientists designed an American in a lab. He looks like the Beach Boys had a grandson with the descendants of Betsy Ross. He looks like a team scoured frat parties for a year to find the most American looking guy in the country. He is Logan Sargent and he is Kenough.

Valterri Bottas - his absolute self confidence and zero fucks given. He does not take himself too seriously and he is wholesome AF. He also has practical guy energy. Like if I hand to rank drivers on Most Likely to Pull Over and Help You Change a Tire he's definitely in the top 3. He seems like getting his hands dirty is something he's not too good to do and he seems like a good dude. Plus he's hilarious. He's as chaotic as Daniel in some ways he's just a little less boisterous about it. Calm chaos vs 5 year old given 16 energy drinks in an hour Ricciardo energy

[sunlightmurdock]

The Dawn Patrol | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw

Masterlist | Next Chapter | PLS VOTE

Arriving a day late, with a broken taillight, in the middle of the night, Bradley shows up to his new posting in the Florida Keys and finds himself mixed up with something sinister.

Warnings: themes of kidnapping, murder and death as well as predatory male characters, age gap: reader is 24, Bradley is 32. All chapters detailing sensitive topics will have more detailed warnings. Kind of unhinged reader, she’s a little feral but we love her. Will be smutty from literally the get go but as always specific warnings will apply — minors dni.

May 2nd 1986

Lottie is last seen on the Sugarloaf Marina at twelve-oh-six. Just after midnight, already a while past her curfew. It’s well lit, visible from the Sugarloaf Channel Bridge which leads down through the keys.

She is wearing a yellow halter top, white shorts, denim jacket. Some reports say that she‘s barefoot on the marina, others say that she was wearing some white sneakers. Took them off, lost them, wasn’t wearing them in the first place; she was right by the beach, the detail doesn’t matter in the beginning. Those kind of crossed wires aren’t the kind that are easily tripped over. She was wearing the shoes, but that won’t ever matter.

That bridge is almost always busy, especially so at this time of year, tourists moving from one key to another or heading down from Miami or central Florida.

By this point in the journey, people tend to start checking their surroundings again. The Overseas Highway has been refurbished into a main coastal highway between the cities of Miami and Key West — its been like that since the fifties. Offering travellers a roadway through a tropical savanna environment and access to the largest area of coral reefs on the U.S. mainland.

If Bradley Bradshaw had looked to his left at exactly midnight on that night in May, as he crossed the mile marker on the Overseas Highway, he would have been the second to last person to have seen Lottie Rivera. Alive, standing at the payphone at the edge of the beach, tears streaming down her face and blood on her knees.

He hadn’t looked. It’s something heavy to consider, all of the things in your peripherals that you’ll never know where there. What would have happened if he had seen her. He isn’t sure that he would have stopped. He isn’t sure that she wouldn’t have gone missing if he did.

The radio is playing Tears for Fears’ hit from last summer, Bradley’s still wide awake; he has been driving for six hours straight and he doesn’t feel ready to stop. His destination is coming up. There’s something so melancholy in the synth pop, he hasn’t really ever listened to the words as much as he does that night.

Going fifty-five, the ocean passes him by on either side. Steady streams of traffic, tourists pouring into town for the summer. Nothing ever lasts forever. He almost scoffs, wanting to spit back at the radio, wondering if some sick DJ is out there sending him this message just to spite him. Instead, he tousles his hand through his curls, resting his head against his hand.

The reminder that he has crossed the threshold and now resides on the wrong side of thirty sits in his knees, more so in the dull ache that has come to rest in them at some point over the last six hours.

He’d trade in his soul before he’d ever consider trading in this truck, but he has to admit that the bronco has its downsides. ‘75 model, fresh blue paint job, wagon style with a removable hard top and a freshly detailed white leather interior. Bradley paid sticker price for it back in ‘81; it remains his pride and joy today.

The leather looks pretty but his ass has been numb since he passed Fort Pierce. On the highway like this, the gears are steady as they are, he can stretch out his left leg a little but the right has a job to do.

Even with all of these aches and pains, his gut would let him keep on driving until the front wheels hit the Gulf of Mexico. Running sway’s funny like that — it all feels so definite when you’re getting in the car. Knowing when to stop’s the harder part. This time around, he has a destination.

Seems a little too close for his liking. He hasn’t ever been here before, never this far south in the US. But Navy? — That’s someone fucking with him. His dog tags rest around his neck now, tangling with the chain that holds his badge.

Six years of service, nothing to show for it but the chain around his neck and a couple of bad dreams now and again. This work suits him better than the Navy ever did. He’s got Admiral Simpson to thank for where he is now. Yet, the thought of looking that man in the eye and shaking his hand makes Bradley’s stomach churn.

Rooster passes by the Sugarloaf Marina at twelve-oh-six. The moon’s sitting high in the sky, it’s full and it’s a dazzling white. Too bright to not notice that tonight’s a full moon. Rooster’s eyes are on it as he passes right by the marina. He never once notices Carlota Rivera in her abundantly clean, white reebok club c’s or her little yellow halter neck that her mom had told her that she would be too cold in.

No, the first time that Bradley will see her, she’ll be missing one of those sneakers and her left ankle will be bloated and twisted abnormally. Her tanned, Italian skin will be a sullen grey and her naturally slim body will be bloated from the days in the water.

But for tonight, she’s alive, at twelve-oh-six, standing beside a payphone with a smile on her face.

His posting isn’t anything to do with Lottie. It’s a simple strangulation in a Navy barracks. Someone taking hazing a little too far. It’s shut and closed but it gets Bradley out of the city, and that’s all that had mattered. It’s none of his business tomorrow morning, when her Mom calls the Monroe County police department, bawling her way through a missing person’s report. It’s none of his business until six days later.

For tonight, his only business is getting to his new apartment and the remaining thirty minutes that'll take. He rubs his calloused hands over his eye, feeling it pulse in complaint under his fingertips. Sitting up straighter, he exhales slowly and blinks until he feels a little more awake.

Grabbing his suitcase and duffel from the back of his truck, and the keys that he had mailed to him two days ago, he sees his apartment for the first time as he’s setting foot inside of it. He knows that his landlord thinks he’s insane, putting a deposit down and four months upfront for a place that he had apparently no interest in seeing. That doesn’t matter. It’s better than he was expecting.

Two bedrooms and open-plan living space, pre-furnished, first floor with a balcony that faces the Garrison Bight Marina. He pulls open the sliding door and steps out onto the beige tile, leaning his palms on the wooden slatted railing that brackets the front of his balcony.

A perfect view of all of the yachts he’ll never be able to afford. Sea air, salty and thick. He heard that there was a small storm here the last night that carried through into this morning. Even if he hadn’t heard that, he would know. He can feel it surrounding him, like it’s holding him in place. Maybe fate.

A police siren whoops once and he looks up to the end of the road. He can just about see the police cruiser marked Key West Police, its lights are on but it isn’t after anybody. Not at first glance anyway. The aging, sunburnt driver leans out of the window and holds the radio to his mouth, “Make the right decision, Finch.”

And then the perpetrator comes into view. Police description would mark her as early-twenties, curly perm in a large denim jacket and a denim skirt with the same kind of faded wash to it, advancing on foot — well, heel, westward towards… Rooster glances to his left, having to squint to read the road sign under the dim-neon of the street light. Not alone, there’s another girl with her. Female. Early-twenties too. Laughing her ass off.

“Come catch us, Marshall!” She calls back towards the cop in the car. He looks exhasperated and already out of breath, but not surprised. This isn’t the first time he has chased the two of you. You’re intoxictated. Rooster can tell from the perpetual squinting grin on your face, the bubbly laughter — and most prevalently, the brown paper bag and glass wine bottle peaking out of it in your hand. He doesn’t have to be a detective to figure that one out.

Briefly, you glance upwards. You follow the feeling of eyes on you and land on him, the handsome brunette on the first floor balcony. Tired looking but pretty, bathed in a pink flush and wearing a barely buttoned cream over shirt. Your grin widens as you give a nod of acknowledgement to your solitary audience member.

“Yeah, if you can run that fast!” You call back to the cop in the car. Hayward Marshall, the shiniest turd of the Key West police department. Not a bad guy, but a narc nonetheless. “Fuckin’ pig!”

At that, the cop at the end of the road growls loudly in annoyance and finally pops open the driver’s side door. Rooster’s lips quirk softly as he watches the two of you turn and run. The cop waits for a beat, then quickly catches on. There’s no point in chasing you.

Rooster hears the door to the police cruiser slam as he steps back into his apartment. Without turning the lights on, he closes the patio door and drops down onto the couch. Exhausted to the point that even closing his eyes hurts, sleep comes for him much more quickly than the usual tossing and turning, ebb and flow of consciousness. Carlota Rivera takes her last breath at 1:49am. Rooster’s laying on his back on an uncomfortable could that might’ve been new in ‘73, just about asleep. The blinding sun streaming through the window wakes him again at dawn.

His first shift with the Monroe County PD is tomorrow morning, an 8am start. Lottie’s whereabouts remain unknown from that morning. She was already dead, but she wasn’t in the water yet.

Rooster has today for himself. First, is a shower. He doesn’t bother to shave, that can wait until tomorrow. Second, he unpacks the essentials. Not that he packed much more than that.

Finally, he walks outside into the morning sun with a pair of gold ray-ban caravans and a faded baseball cap. It’s already warming up, in the high seventies before Rooster’s watch even ticks past seven. He walks over to the railing and looks out over the docks. It hosts a fleet of about eighty yachts, big ones that could easily make the trip across the ocean to Europe. He’s surprised to see as many of them as there are.

Taking off his sunglasses, he’s even more surprised to see the feral minx that was outside of his window last night, howling laughter like a damn coyote, now standing on the deck of a thirty-five thousand dollar boat. You’re showered and dressed, and flushed with a remarkably healthy glow considering how drunk you were a couple of hours ago.

Hair tied back into a loose ponytail, curls decorating the sides of your face, wearing a white tank top and classic blue denim cut offs. Resting his elbows against the railing, he thinks back to your treatment of the police officer from last night and finds himself glad to have left his badge in his bedroom. He’s technically still a cop, even if he tries to distance himself from all of that.

If he wasn’t alone and unobserved, he would pretend that he knows what you’re doing. Fiddling with different canisters and wires. All that crap has never made too much sense to him. He likes fancy cars and cool boats, he just doesn’t really get them. Now, planes? — They were much easier to understand than cars ever were.

Salty, warm morning air and half a packet of mints in, your sinuses are more than clear and your eyes have only just stopped streaming from under your sunglasses. As much as you know you shouldn’t have been out last night, drinking as much as you were, it helps to know that you’re got access to the best freshly squeezed orange juice known to man on this boat.

Usually, you’re pretty aware of your surroundings. A young lady has to be in this day and age — that’s what your grandmother would say, right before you’d teasingly remind her that there’s little that’s ladylike about you. But, you don’t notice the handsome brunette that’s watching you until you turn with a heavy canister in your hand, grunting softly.

It’s clear that he’s been there for a while, he’s settled in against that old railing like a statue, just studying you. It’s almost refreshing that it’s not some sun-spotted, viagra fuelled retiree standing there and slobbering all over the path as he watches you work. But, it’s still a random guy that makes no effort to look away, even as you narrow your eyes at him through your sunglasses.

“You got a staring problem, or something?”

Rooster’s lips quirk upwards as you confirm every suspicion in his mind that you’re the girl from last night. He gives you a slow shake of his head and nothing else. He’s handsome. Tanned with pink cheeks, sunglasses that fit his face well and a shirt that’s pleasantly tight around his biceps. You’re seeing him for the first time now, last night is too much of a drunken haze for you to remember the brief encounter that you had.

If he came up to you in a bar, you’d let him buy you a drink and maybe fuck you in the backseat of his car. Truck, he probably drives a truck. He’s probably Navy. It’s growing increasingly easy to identify the men that turn up around here for a summer or two.

“Y’know, to most people, that means stop staring.” You tell him, setting the empty gas canister down onto the dock for you to carry back later. His lips quirk up further. Almost really smiling at you now.

“‘M looking at the boat.” Rooster shrugs calmly, still smiling softly. You push your sunglasses up onto the top of your head, swiping several tight curls with them. He’s not looking at the damn boat. You’re pretty when you’re glaring at him like that. All riled up like a pissed off kitten.

“You wanna see it up close? — Can wipe the deck with your face if you’re feeling brave.” You bite back at him. This time he grins at you, truly amused and still leaning on that rickety old railing. That’s the thing about working at Garrison Bight — you spend just as much time fending off slimy old men as you do actually working.

This guy doesn’t look that old. Or that slimy. He’s older than you, certainly. You can see that from the nice watch he’s wearing, the sunglasses, the dated baseball cap. Definitely Navy. Poor fella picked the wrong place to approach you, anywhere other than work and you’d happily play along.

He gives you a small shake of his head, settling back into that comfortable, amused smirk. “Not that brave,” He teases, turning his head finally to actually take a look over the yacht. Three floors, not including below deck. Huge. Beyond impressive. “I’ll keep on looking from right here, if that’s alright with you. Got a pretty nice vantage point from over here.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your palm to shield your eyes from the glaring morning sun. “Have you got a wife or something that I need to know about?”

“Not that you need to know about,” He shrugs, “She keeps herself occupied most days.”

Finally, he gets you to break. You smile across the gap between the yacht and the railing, amused by his joke. You set your sunglasses back on the bridge of your nose and tilt your head at him, giving him a quick look up and down.

“You ever had your dick sucked on a yacht?”

…

tags:

@thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @perpetuelledaydreaming @raisehailpraisedale @khaylin27 @sharpsapphic666 @fudge13 @slutfordw @averyhotchner @hangmanscoming @bradshawseresinbabe @diorrfairy @phoenix1388 @alm334 @princess76179 @cherrycola27 @wkndwlff @xoxabs88xox @galaxy-moon @itsmytimetoodream @sugarcoated-lame

[inbabylontheywept]

The Defanging of FAANG

So taking this from the top.

Facebook's own prognosis is that their userbase has already peaked. Worse, their entire business model - harvesting user data in order to deliver targeted advertisements - has proven to be less effective than actual random ads. It's fucking magic beans.

Apple's problem is that their industrial base is in China. The US saw how bad Europe bled over its relationship with Russia and decided to pre-empt the problem. Bad news is that caused an inflation spike. Good news is that it did pre empt the problem. The next generation industrial country for the US is going to be Mexico, but the competition for their workers has already been won by Samsung. Apple is in for a rough twenty years.

Amazon makes most of its money from its server service, and it is looking down the barrel of an anti-trust lawsuit. It has no political allies and is very likely to lose.

Netflix is part of a supersatured hypercompetitive market over an increasingly small market share. Their entire model is not sustainable, and never has been.

Google makes their money in exactly the same way that Facebook does, and is looking at death by the same mechanism. It's a one-trillion dollar company whose main product is about to become worthless.

My suspicion is that this is why AI is getting so much money thrown at it. There are a lot of big players with shitloads of cash, but no long term future. If they were human beings, they'd take the money and bow out, but corporations don't actually care about cash - they care about living. And they only get to live as long as they can grow.

[mileapo]

Mile & Apo: It takes two to triumph

IN THE GLITZY REALM OF entertainment, where talent often shines like a beacon, there occasionally emerges a pair of stars whose chemistry transcends the screen. Such is the case with Mile and Apo, two charismatic Thai actors whose TV show KinnPorsche has become a global sensation, watched by millions of viewers from Russia and India, to Poland and Peru.

The two have risen from relative obscurity to become the new ambassadors of Dior, mobbed by teenage girls when they arrived in Mumbai earlier this year to attend a Dior fashion show.

On the surface, the Thai series KinnPorsche seems to have thrown the rulebook of “How to make a hit TV show” out the window. It is a mafia story filled with surly men, bloody gang fights and epic shoot-outs – which, yes, is a mainstay of TV programming. But the radical twist is this: the two main characters are a mafia boss’ son (played by Mile) and his male bodyguard (played by Apo) who – surprise, surprise – fall in love with each other.

In the history of TV, there has never been a hit crime series centred on a gay plot. But when KinnPorsche debuted in April 2022 on Thai TV and global streaming service iQiyi, it almost instantly became the top trending title in neighbouring countries such as Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Vietnam and the Philippines.

Soon after, it claimed Europe, finding particular popularity in Poland, Turkey, Italy and France. Then it stormed its way into North and South America, where it was a top trending topic in the US, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Ecuador and Colombia.

No one – not even the cast and producers – thought the show would be this successful. It seems to have fed into some untapped market for female audiences who love action shows, but don’t care to see yet another threateningly perfect actress couple up with their fantasy man.

If you ask any fan what it is about the show that makes them sweat, swoon or quiver with delight, they’ll answer quite simply: Mile and Apo.

Double or nothing

At their photo shoot in Bangkok’s top restaurant Nusara, which overlooks the splendid temple complex Wat Pho, the models-turned-actors are in their element. They tailor their bodies and facial expressions instinctively for the camera, conveying a range of emotions, from sultry and mysterious to bright and playful. The slinky Dior suits, with their clean lines and minimal embellishments, don’t hurt either.

Mile (or Phakphum Romsaithong) and Apo (or Nattawin Wattanagitiphat) recently released their new film Man Suang in cinemas. It is a big-budget political thriller set during the 19th century reign of Rama III, replete with historically authentic sets and costumes.

Apo plays a traditional dancer who is recruited to spy in an elite club and uncover a plot to overthrow the order of the king. Finding a kindred spirit in the club’s taphon drummer (played by Mile), the two team up to stop the underground rebellion.

Speaking with the help of a translator, Mile, 31, explains: “We hope the movie reaches out to a wide audience. We wanted it to have both commercial and critical success, something that could show Thai history and culture to the world, but also be fun and entertaining enough to be a popcorn movie for the masses.”

Both actors note how T-pop (the shorthand for Thai popular entertainment) has been hyped as the next global sensation after K-pop and J-pop, following the massive success of Thai stars such as Lisa Manobal, Bright Vachirawit and Win Opas-iamkajorn.

“And it can happen,” says Apo, 29, also through a translator. “Thai people are very humble, gentle, hardworking and friendly. We can blend into any culture. If anything, Thailand has served as a melting pot for different cultures – just as Singapore has. Our culture can be easily embraced by the world.”

The duo believes that the global audience has transformed in recent times. “They’re now more welcoming of stories from different parts of the world, especially if those stories involve characters going on a journey to discover themselves and make themselves better, stronger, wiser and happier,” says Apo. “That’s why when I look for new projects these days, I look for the ones that carry the messages of self-actualisation.”

Mile concurs, adding: “I’ve always believed in ‘high risk, high return’. KinnPorsche was a risky proposition, because it took a mafia crime genre and placed it in the Boy Love category (a niche genre involving gay romance). But I believed in the project’s potential from the start – even if I never thought it’d become the cultural phenomenon that it is today. Its success has only strengthened my belief in ‘high risk, high return’.”

One-two punch

The road to success has been winding for both actors. Though born with the magnetic allure of leading men, they’ve had to work hard to secure roles over countless rivals, as strikingly handsome as they are. Having appeared in smaller parts before, it was the smash success of KinnPorsche – a show that almost didn’t get made because of funding issues – that catapulted them into not just the Thai limelight, but the global stratosphere.

Asked what Dior’s artistic director Kim Jones thinks of KinnPorsche, the duo laughs. Apo says: “We don’t know if he’s seen the show – we didn’t ask him. But we do know that our fans had been bombarding his Instagram account for a while, telling him about us, asking him to check us out, before he signed us up – well, at least that’s what he told us when we met him for the first time.”

“But for all you know, he could be binge-watching the series right now,” quips Mile, prompting another round of chuckles.

As the two men trade jokes in Thai, it’s clear that they share a genuine friendship. Their camaraderie is palpable, adding an extra layer of authenticity to their on-screen chemistry. Their behind-the-scenes antics and playful banter in candid posts have become fan fodder, launching thousands of TikTok videos and memes.

Mile says: “We’ve only become better friends in these past two-and-a-half years. We’ve become more synchronised, and our mindsets and energies are moving at the same pace. I can look at Apo and more or less understand what’s going on in his mind. We have small conflicts, of course – it’s normal among friends – but it’s usually something so minor, we can resolve it quickly.”

The best part of their friendship? Their shared love of dad jokes – that genre of silly, cheesy jokes with predictable punchlines that fathers supposedly love to tell their kids.

But Mile confesses: “I don’t tell dad jokes because I like them, to be honest. What I really, really want to tell are smart jokes, witty jokes… But I’m so bad at making jokes that they always come across as dad jokes, no matter how hard I try.”

Apo interjects: “Do you wanna hear a good dad joke?” Then, switching from Thai to halting English, he says slowly: “Hey you… watch where you walk… or you will… fall… into… my heart.”

[axkirak]

Renegada♱

Pairings:  Amado Carrillo Fuentes x f!reader(Latina Reader) x Walt Breslin  [From Narcos: Mexico TV Series]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Synopsis:You find that what is even more challenging than your missions or dealing with the big drug dealer is having to cope with your feelings for Walt, which seem to grow stronger every day.

AN : This episode for those who love Walt, Lol. I believe many people are charmed by Walt, just like me. So, I would like to dedicate this episode to all the Walt fan club (of course, I haven't revealed who the Male Lead is yet, so let's all guess together whether it's Walt or Amado that will win the reader's heart).

Taglist: @juxt4p0siti0n​ (If you want to be added in this fic, just tell me in reply )

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𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙙𝙖♱ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

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[2]ᅳ 𝐄𝐥 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐛𝐨 ✟

Mexico City, Mexico

1300 (Military Time)

"So, tell me, how did you manage to survive Amado?" That was the question that everyone in the DEA office had been dying to know, but only You and Julio knew all the details.

You weren't surprised at all when you saw many faces peeking at you through their office desks with curiosity. As soon as you stepped out of your boss's office after reporting the progress of your undercover mission in Cuba, You felt all eyes on you. And the first person brave enough to ask you directly was Bill Carter, a DEA Agent who had a mischievous glint in his eye and was waiting for you in the office kitchen with a cup of hot coffee for you. He wasn't doing it out of kindness, but because he was nosy.

You took the coffee and two donuts from a large box left on the white table and started eating them hungrily. You almost forgot that you hadn't eaten anything substantial since coming back to Mexico.

These people wouldn't let you catch a break, but you found Bill's curiosity amusing, and you glanced at him while munching on a donut. He seemed eager to hear the story you were about to tell, and you felt like teasing him a little. "You want to know so badly, huh?"

"Sure, nobody else got as close as you did," Bill said, and although he had a bright smile on his face, You could sense the worry hidden behind it. "He didn't do anything to you, right?"

At least Bill's questions were more cautious than Julio's. You recalled the straightforward question from their honcho earlier: "You didn't sleep with him, did you?"

"At least almost" was what you replied to both Bill and Julio.

You wondered if there should be more to it. You had been thinking about it since you saw the fiery look in Amado's eyes. Of course, this man was like a supernova, surrounded by beautiful models waiting in bed for him with a snap of his fingers. So It surprised you that he didn't take you back with him that night, even though you knew he wanted to.

But no, he didn't. He didn't take you with him; he just asked to walk you back to your fake apartment, and it turned out to be quite an odd experience for you as a CIA agent. You had to hold hands and walk side by side with a drug dealer on a street late at night in Cuba, engaging in meaningless conversations completely unrelated to drugs and the missions you carried on your shoulders.

Amado was an excellent and fascinating conversationalist. He shared various stories about himself, none of which were mentioned in his official file. From his personal life (growing up in a large, impoverished family with more than ten siblings, getting married once and divorced), to his hobbies (passionate about flying planes to the extent of considering joining the Navy due to his love for Top Gun movies), and sometimes he would play quirky jokes that made you burst into laughter. Everything Amado did seemed natural, sincere, and charming, without any pretenses, which was different from how you were acting towards him.

It was only for a moment that you inadvertently thought of yourself as an ordinary woman, and the person beside you was just an ordinary man as well. But you would never be just an ordinary person, And Amado would too.

That was all that happened that night—almost. The strange and intense feelings lingered when you and he stood in front of the old wooden door, both sides stealing glances at each other in the midst of an awkward silence. While considering some thoughts in your head, you finally decided to lightly kiss his cheek before bidding a gentle farewell.

And he didn't touch you any more than that when you showed you didn't want it.

"I want to see you again next time," Amado said. But you secretly hoped you wouldn't meet him again, no matter where or when.

You sipped the hot black coffee, almost choking, when a fit of coughing sent the coffee splattering all over. Bill, flustered, quickly grabbed a tissue to hand over to you. "Hey, take it easy. Where do you need to hurry off to?"

"Sorry," you smiled sheepishly, wiping the coffee stains off your shirt and your mouth. "But that's it. Now we know for sure that Amado and the Cali Cartel are teaming up, which means there might be another major cocaine shipment coming into the U.S. The border will probably have some heavy work to do."

"A new Pablo is born," he sighed.

"Not really. Amado is different from Pablo. Pablo was reckless, but Amado is smart. He does things that neither Pablo nor Miguel would do."

Bill raised an eyebrow, considering your words and expression. He could tell that something was on your mind, but he didn't push any further. "I won't judge you for whether what you're doing is right or wrong, but I want you to know that you're playing with fire, literally. and make some people worry so much."

"What do you mean?" you asked casually, already knowing the answer.

"Walt is almost ready to fight Julio because that idiot thinks you might be in danger. And I don't blame him because I probably would have done the same if my partner did something foolish like getting involved with danger like that," he said, emphasizing the words ‘my partner’ His eyes glinted mischievously. You felt a surge of annoyance and wanted to push his face away.

"He's not my partner. The CIA doesn't have partners."

"But not for the DEA. Here, we work as a team. We all have each other's backs, whether you like it or not," Bill said, tossing the coffee cup accurately into the nearby trash bin before turning back to look at you. This time, his expression was more serious than before as he placed his hand gently on your shoulder.

"Remember that you're not alone," he said.

Bill's remark still lingered in your mind as you returned to your apartment. You opened the bathroom door and turned on the shower forcefully before letting the cold water flow through your dark brown hair and down your face. It felt like washing away the heavy burden that couldn't be seen, but you knew it was there, attached to you like a ghost.

"You're leading yourself into danger." That's what the CIA boss warned you about when you returned from Saudi Arabia, three years after his death. And suddenly, you felt a pang of remorse. toward Bill, Walt, and him.

Every mission you've ever done has always been a solo operation, and you've become accustomed to relying on yourself. You always built walls to keep everyone out For one reason only: you didn't want anyone else risking their lives for you, like something that happened to you in the past.

Raymond was right: "You're leading yourself into danger." At least you wanted to be sure that you were the only one who had to face the consequences.

You still closed your eyes, and in the darkness of your mind, you heard screams, explosions, and gunfire echoing from the depths of your soul. You didn't want the tragedy that happened in Saudi Arabia to repeat itself in Mexico.

A knocking sound grew louder as you had just finished taking a shower and dressing up. You tossed the hair towel on the hanger before walking to the white front door. Through the peephole, you saw Walt standing outside. You hesitated for a moment, thinking about what Bill had told you earlier about Walt almost fighting Julio because he was worried about you.

You weren't sure if Walt was still upset about it, and you weren't certain if you could handle arguments from him. But the truth was, you liked that Walt cared about you, and you couldn't deny the deep desire to see his face without any special reason.

Finally, you reached out and opened the door. There he was, dressed in a red plaid shirt and dark jeans, almost like his usual uniform. The only missing element was the black glasses that he had tucked away in his left chest pocket. Walt had one hand carrying multiple beers. bottles, and the other held a bag with the name of a popular restaurant in Mexico City. His face showed a hint of fatigue, but he managed a half-hearted smile as he greeted you.

"I guess you probably haven't had dinner yet; so I brought some taquitos for you," Walt said, breaking the ice. 

In the end, there was no arguing like you had anticipated. You both sat together on the blue leather sofa, enjoying tacos and beer as the television played a popular telenovela, creating background noise to keep things from getting too quiet. And certainly, no one was interested in watching silly soap operas at all. You absentmindedly fiddled with a beer bottle, trying to steal glances at Walt without him noticing.

But Walt always knew. He smiled slightly as your eyes met for a moment.

"You seem tired lately," Walt started to bring up the topic, "Maybe you should take a break, like two or three days off."

It was his intention for today to check on you and make sure you are alright after the risky mission you just went through.

You smiled back, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "I'll rest when you rest."

Walt's pros were his concern for others, but his cons were that he never included himself in that. If you worked hard, Walt worked just as hard. He was always the first one to arrive at the office every day and the last one to leave. Of course, he never took a break or leaving early

You and Walt are alike in this aspect. There was no way both of you would willingly stop and take a break.

Walt looked at you, chuckling softly at your answer that he had anticipated. "I could never defeat you, could I?"

"It's quite an honor for me to be able to outmatch a brave man like you, who even challenges every single person, including your boss."

His face under the mustache changes almost instantly, looking embarrassed like a child caught doing something wrong. Walt opened his mouth as if he was about to defend himself, but you raised your hand to stop him.

"I don't mean anything against you. Sometimes I just want to punch my coworkers too." You leaned back on the sofa and crossed your legs, making sure through your gaze that he wasn't feeling upset about the matter. You then reached out and lightly tapped his arm.

"But I don't want you to have problems at work," you added.

"It won't be a problem if you stick to the original plan," Walt argued, his voice more serious than before. "What you're doing outside of the orders is too dangerous. You could get killed."

"This is our work. We know well about the risk," you replied. 

The truth is hitting harder than ever. Even Walt couldn't argue against that. Mexico was a city of sin, where death was almost ordinary and could be found around every corner, whether it was for officers, criminals, or innocent bystanders. Every day as a DEA agent, he witnessed numerous losses, and sometimes he had to be the one to break the devastating news to the families or loved ones of his coworkers who were suddenly gone. and he couldn't help but wonder when it would be his turn.

"I know," Walt said softly, surprisingly vulnerable. "But I don't want you to die."

For a fleeting moment, it was you who couldn't argue anymore.

Silence filled the air as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, seeing the confusion, concern, and turmoil hidden within them. And sometimes, you felt like he could see the same in you.

At that moment, for a brief second, you thought you could just kiss him right then and there.

In the end, you chose to look away, deciding not to cross the line that could lead to regrettable consequences later on. You handled the remaining beer, letting its warmth flow down your throat, before exhaling a long breath while staring at the yellow wall in your room.

"Do you think we can do it?" You mumbled, unsure. "Can we catch him?"

Walt didn't answer immediately. He pondered in the silence for a while before finally sliding his hand to firmly grasp your hand.

"We can do it. Trust me," he said, his determination clear.

Even though you warned yourself not to look into his eyes again, the desire from the depths of your heart still won. In the end, you turned back to meet Walt's gaze once more.

Amidst the seemingly long silence that lasted only a few minutes, neither of you uttered a word. It was as if even a slight disturbance could destroy something that was quietly and delicately taking shape. You could feel the thumb from the large hand gently caressing the inside of your palm, warm and tender. Once again, you found yourself sinking into thoughts of wanting to pull him in for a kiss, but you weren't sure if he felt the same way.

Ironically, being a CIA agent taught you to read the thoughts of others as a profession, and you could do it with everyone. But now, you couldn't read the thoughts of the man right in front of you, not even the slightest bit.

"I think I should go now." 

Walt was the one who disrupted the quietness, clearing his throat before removing his hand from yours and standing up to his full height. Yet the warmth still lingered in your hand, and you felt disappointed with how it all ended. Nonetheless, you composed yourself gracefully, pausing briefly before walking him to the front door and bidding him a polite goodnight, as you should.

Whatever happened in Cuba has rewound in your mind again. It was just a change of characters, from Amado to Walt, but everything seemed almost the same. The strange sensation of standing by the door and looking into each other, lost in deep thoughts, hiding something within, until one person started saying farewell and the other walked away into the darkness

Although a part of you wanted to beg him to stay, in the end, you could only watch the back of Walt walking away until it vanished from your sight.

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

[ilhoonftw]

answers here ⬇️

btob members appeared on law of the jungle in: mongolia (changsub), sumatra (sungjae, peniel), mexico (hyunsik, eunkwang), indian ocean (minhyuk). law of the jungle in thailand had different idol guests

they had a cameo in heirs

took them years to appear on sketchbook (for some reason) but it happened

idol chef king was a variety special and eunkwang & sungjae chef duo did super well

antm had a season where they went to korea, btob had a whole segment in which models danced to beep on the streets of seoul

we became a family was a wreck, celebs pretended to be in relationship or related. painful

they appeared on snl two times, 2013 they small roles in g.na's episode, 2014 eunkwang was a lead in short skit

wgm ofc .....

lipstick price was...... a show. eunkwang was a fixed cast member

living among the rich was a sitcom and predebut btob were in bunch of episodes

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

Treasure Hunt Movie Review: Mr. Car and the Knights Templar

Greetings! I thought we’d try something a little different as I cook up the next set of articles.

Mr. Car and the Knights Templar is a new Polish treasure hunt movie from Netflix. Based on the book of the same name,it follows a swashbuckling art historian on a quest to uncover the legendary treasure of the Templar Knights.

While I wouldn’t call the film “good,” I would absolutely call it fascinating. Sometimes there’s nothing like another culture taking a beloved genre or concept and reflecting it back at you. The familiar has a way of becoming new.

This movie is every flavor of the treasure hunt genre all rolled into one. Our hero is Tomasz, or as he becomes nicknamed part way through the film, Mr. Car, is equal parts Indiana Jones, Robert Langdon, James Bond, and Ben Gates.

He works on behalf of a powerful museum, a la Indy, he’s given serious covert assignments by his own M, and there’s a similar spiritual/religious twist to the treasure, as in The DaVinci Code. And off course he’s assisted (despite his protests) by his own personal band of Goonies.

However, it’s unfair to say this film rips of those other notable entries. The book, Pan Samochodzik i Templariusze by Nienacki Zbigniew, was first published in 1966, predating all the aforementioned stories except James Bond. However, I can’t say how closely this movie follows the books (which have something of a cult status in Poland, as I understand it) or how those more recent franchises might have influence this adaptation.

This film is just…it’s everything. Whatever element of the treasure hunt genre you’re looking for, you’ll find it here. Ridiculously over-the-top villains? Check. Tournament arc? Got it. Quirky clues and weirder solvers? Yes ma’am. Tomasz even has an amphibious car, for all your gadget wizard/tricked out car genre needs. (Hence the nickname.)

The inclusion that took me most by surprise is the subplot right out of Moonrise Kingdom that gets the Goonies involved in the hunt. Yes, Moonrise Kingdom, the Wes Anderson coming-of-age dramedy about a runaway boy scout. Like I said, this movies has everything.

Without spoilers, I found the villain—as Zorro-alike named Adios—to be both the weakest part of the film narratively and just…yikes. Like, I would not be okay with this character in an American movie, but Poland has a much different history with Mexico so…that is what it is I guess.

And poor Karen. She gets the short end of the stick every time.

The kids I found charming, especially main Goony Eagle Eyes and his relationship with Tomasz as a reluctant role model. (I'm a sucker for that trope.) Honestly, I would have been fine if the story was just about the kids and their accidental chaperone, a journalist who seems to be the only person in the world not woo’d by Tomasz (yet).

Overall, I can’t say I enjoyed the movie, but I did enjoy looking at the treasure hunt genre through a new lens, considering what tropes make up a treasure quest, and how the different “flavors” of the genre vary from one another (and how they maybe should not all be smushed into one movie).

Probably the most startling part of the experience was realizing that this haphazard mishmash of a narrative is probably how my friends see National Treasure 😅. Oh dear.

My rating:

1.5/5 Declarations of Independence 📜📜

[patchedd]

Daily Forza Car #36: A Quick Pick-me-Up

Hoo boy, another off-road race truck. And an older one, at that. Not to mention, one I actually can do a good amount of research on! Driven as part of the early 2000's Dakar races, this pickup was actually a fairly big milestone when it leaped onto the scene. Nissan hadn't really been doing much with offroad at the time, and this Navara-based truck was their first entry back into it in 2001. This one specifically was based on the '04 model, but it was run until 2008, so whatever works.

The Navara truck this was based upon is, well, its a pretty basic pickup truck. In a fitting bit of trivia for the game this is in, it is fairly popular in Mexico, although it took until 08 for it to actually start showing up in that market, with the previous model lasting much longer than it did in other countries. Honestly, it's a pretty alright looking truck, but I personally prefer this Rally Raid model.

Back onto the topic of that, it was... actually it wasn't great in Dakar. It was fairly successful in South Africa, from where the truck originates, but in terms of Dakar... well, this specific facelift this one spurned on was not too good. It barely made the top ten in '04, and fifth in '05. It still averaged the top ten for the next three years, but after that, it got pulled from Dakar, with Nissan not really returning since, to my knowledge. But, this is a pretty notable vehicle still, especially since Colin McRae was behind the wheel of one. Yeah, the guy who made the DiRT series. Quite the name to have tied to it. And one we'll be seeing again soon enough.

[nx08h63bitchyobservationnerd]

livvy dunne erome

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[starseedfxofficial]

USD's Rollercoaster Ride & Market Undercurrents Revealed The Greenback Takes the Spotlight Ah, the US Dollar Index (DXY) started the week with swagger, thanks to Trump's tariff tantrum on Canada, China, and Mexico. For a moment there, the USD was looking like a Broadway star taking a bow before a packed house. But just as quickly, its spotlight started to dim, as broader macroeconomic updates gave it nothing new to play with. What happened next? Well, let’s say the market flows decided it was time to put on their slippers and exert their influence – pulling DXY back under the magic 107.00 mark, right down to a 106.73 low. It’s like trying to keep your balance while doing the cha-cha—sometimes you're leading, sometimes you're not. EUR Finds Its Groove Meanwhile, the Euro came in hot against the dollar after a less-than-steady start, sort of like when you hit the dance floor, a little unsure, but soon you’re the one showing off the moves. There’s been plenty of chatter from the European Central Bank, but nothing that changes the playlist. EUR/USD managed to swing back above 1.05, from its earlier dip at 1.0426, yet it’s still struggling to hit Monday’s peak at 1.0530. It’s a bit like reaching for that top-shelf bottle of wine but still having to settle for the one within arm’s reach—good, but not great. The Yen Holds Strong And let’s give a round of applause to the Yen, which has been doing better than the other major currencies in the room today. A firmer-than-expected Services PPI had traders whispering that maybe, just maybe, the Bank of Japan might finally dip its toe into policy normalization. USD/JPY has been doing a little dance around 154.00, staying inside the range of 153.55 to 154.72 from yesterday—not quite a breakout, but hey, at least it’s got rhythm. Looney Tunes in the North The Canadian dollar (CAD) wasn’t having its best day. In fact, it was the laggard of the G10, as Trump's tariffs put the spotlight on its weak side. USD/CAD jumped to 1.4177 overnight, while Mexico’s Peso (MXN) wasn’t far behind, with USD/MXN touching 20.75. It’s like they’ve both been handed a script for a tragicomedy—a little drama, a lot of confusion, but still managing to make it to the next scene. The Pound’s Puzzling Performance The British Pound (GBP) made some gains against the dollar, but barely. It fared a bit softer against the Euro, and overall, the action was so modest it’s like it showed up to the party but only danced near the edge of the floor. Specifics? Well, there's not much—the Bank of England’s Pill is still on deck, but we’re all just waiting to see if he brings anything worth listening to. Deutsche Bank Calls It Like It Sees It Month-end rebalancing models from Deutsche Bank are signaling some USD selling, with demand seen for EUR/USD. Meanwhile, they’re predicting USD/SEK and USD/CHF will see selling pressure. It’s all about playing musical chairs with currencies—sometimes you get the comfy seat, sometimes you’re left standing. China’s Steady Hand Finally, we had the People’s Bank of China (PBoC) setting the USD/CNY midpoint at 7.1910, which was surprisingly below expectations (7.2357). It’s almost like the PBoC said, “Hey, let’s keep things chill,” even if everyone else was ready for some fireworks. Not groundbreaking, but a small win for a stable scene in China. Hidden Insights for the Savvy Trader Let’s take a step back and uncover some golden nuggets in this market shuffle: 1. Mind the Macro Mambo: The Dollar’s strength and subsequent drop highlight the fickle nature of relying solely on headlines. Pro tip: use month-end flows to predict this kind of price action. A lot of traders overlook how much these flows can swing things, but if you’re in the know, you can use them to time your entries better. 2. ECB Noise vs. Real Moves: All the ECB talk might seem important, but unless there’s a game-changing announcement, it’s more like white noise. Focus on the actual market movement, like EUR/USD’s push past 1.05—that's where the opportunity lies. 3. BoJ Watching: Don’t sleep on Japan. The better-than-expected PPI gives some real hints that the BoJ could be heading towards policy normalization. If that happens, expect the Yen to start making some serious waves. Positioning for an eventual BoJ pivot could be a killer contrarian play. 4. Trade Tariff Whispers: The market impact of tariffs isn’t just in the headlines. Look at how CAD and MXN were pressured. These are opportunities to trade short-term volatility while the broader market catches up. 5. Deutsche Bank’s Model Mayhem: Month-end rebalancing can move markets significantly, but most retail traders miss it entirely. If you know there’s a model showing a bias towards selling USD and buying EUR, you can use this to position yourself ahead of the crowd. There’s a lot to keep track of in the currency markets—it’s not just about the big headlines, but also the undercurrents. This week, keep an eye on month-end flows and central bank chatter, but more importantly, understand the context behind each move. That’s how you’ll find the hidden gems that most traders miss. Remember, trading isn’t about predicting the future, it’s about understanding what’s happening right now and positioning accordingly. Need some backup in your trading journey? Check out our resources at StarseedFX for exclusive insights, advanced strategies, and a community that’s here to help you every step of the way. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article