#golden globes ambassadors

[coolthingsguyslike]

[fancyschmancyopinions]

ELIZABETH DEBICKI at the 80th Annual Golden Globes on January 10th 2023 wearing CHRISTIAN DIOR

[mrsfancyferrari]

My Priority

Summary: MV1 + "You're my priority." 🍂🦃

Song: i'm yours by Isabel LaRosa

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 6.8k

The sun dipped low over the Monaco harbor, casting a golden hue over the sleek yachts and classic buildings. It was race weekend, and the atmosphere buzzed with excitement.

Fans adorned in vibrant team colors filled the streets, while the pit lanes prepared for the moment that would thrill millions around the globe.

Among the horde of dedicated supporters and high-profile personalities were three friends, caught in a whirlwind of competition and camaraderie: Max, Charles and Lando.

Today, he stood in the crowd, his eyes fixed on you—a talented influencer and recently appointed ambassador for the racing team.

With your effortless smile and magnetic personality, you effortlessly drew a gathering of admirers around you, signing autographs and taking cheerful selfies, your laughter ringing like music above the cacophony.

Charles and Lando, seated comfortably on a nearby bench, exchanged knowing glances as they watched Max, who seemed lost in a dreamy haze.

“Look at him,” Lando snickered, leaning back on his hands. “I swear he’s drooling.”

“Max, the biggest simp in Monaco,” Charles teased, suppressing a laugh. “He’s got those hearts in his eyes again.”

Max was clearly oblivious, completely entranced by your graceful presence. He didn’t just admire you; it was as though he had built a world around the very idea of you.

The way you spoke with your fans, how you listened to each story and responded with genuine interest—it captivated him.

“Should we go over and rescue him?” Lando suggested, feigning concern while he grinned. “Or do we let him bask in his hopeless dreams for a little longer?”

“He’ll be fine,” Charles replied, shaking his head. “But maybe we should give him a little push. He wouldn’t take any of this as serious if it were us in front of that crowd.”

“I can’t believe he’s got it this bad,” Lando said, his tone playful, “What spice do you think he would add to the word ‘simp’ if it was his turn to describe it? Charismatic? Earned? I can practically hear his monologue right now.”

Charles laughed, then leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he studied Max. “But seriously, look at him. It’s like watching a puppy. You know he wouldn’t even know what to say to her.”

While they teased Max, he remained entranced. Conscious of his friends’ snickering, he reluctantly stole a glance at them and noticed their laughter.

Realizing what they were up to, he straightened, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Guys! Quit it!” he called out, his voice laced with embarrassment. “I’m just watching!”

“Yeah, watching her while looking like you’re in a personal rom-com,” Lando snickered. “How about a quick flirt, huh? We can’t let those hours of sim racing go to waste, Max!”

“Or we could help you,” Charles added, the corners of his mouth curling into a teasing grin. “I could distract her while you swoop in for a heroic rescue.”

Max rolled his eyes, attempting to shake off their banter, yet a smile tugged at his lips, unable to fully resist the comedic timing of his over-the-top friends.

“You two are ridiculous, you know that? I’d rather drown than ask either one of you for ‘help’.”

“Oh please, it wouldn’t even be asking!” Lando exchanged a knowing grin with Charles. “You’d be thanking us with how epic this moment will be.”

Just as their banter continued, you finished with the last group of fans, standing tall under the sun, blissfully unaware of the trio observing you.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and took out your phone, scrolling through your messages.

“Look! She’s free! Go now!” Lando exclaimed, shoving Max lightly.

“What? No! I can't!” Max stuttered, standing rigid, his earlier confidence evaporating.

Charles leaned closer, unfazed by Max’s protests. “You brought this on yourself. You can’t let the opportunity pass you by. Just be yourself.”

“Be myself?” Max echoed incredulously. “What does that even mean? Look at her! She’s amazing. I’m just… me.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Charles replied. “She doesn't want another trophy; she wants someone real. If you don’t go talk to her, you’ll never know.”

With a deep breath, Max took a step back, contemplating the ocean of thoughts that whirled within him. “What if I mess up? Or worse, what if she thinks I’m just a weird guy?”

“Mate! You're the Max Verstappen,” Lando shrugged. “I don't think she'll care.” He winked. “Now go. You could get all the cool points.”

With a silent nod and a rush of adrenaline, Max finally took a step forward. As he approached you, he tried to focus on the words swirling in his mind.

Closer and closer, he felt his heart race—this was it.

You looked up just as he reached you, and your eyes met his. His breath caught, a mix of excitement and nervousness weaving together. “Hey…,” he managed to say, suddenly feeling small in this vast world of possibility.

You smiled brightly, that same warmth radiating from you that had drawn him here. “Hi there! You’re a fan of the team, right?”

Max nodded, wrestling with the best response while standing here, finally face to face with the person he admired yet knew so little about. “Yeah, I mean, um, I—I am.” He swallowed hard. “I saw you with your fans over there, and, um, you were amazing.”

A soft chuckle escaped you. “Thank you! I love connecting with them. It’s the least I can do. They make our sport so vibrant and exciting.”

“I can see that,” Max said, feeling the confidence slowly emerging. “Just like you’re making this whole weekend brighter.”

The two of you shared a laugh that alleviated the tension, and with each word, the distance between you lessened. The shimmer of stars began to paint the sky as the sun set, casting a magical glow over the race circuit, where a new chapter began to unfold.

Meanwhile, Charles and Lando watched from a distance, an approving grin plastered on their faces. “Maybe our Max isn’t such a hopeless case after all,” Lando mused, nudging Charles.

“Looks like our little simp might just prove us all wrong,” Charles replied, folding his arms in satisfaction as they witnessed the unfolding moment between you and Max, already knowing it was destined to be a story worth telling.

You’ve always found comfort in the chaos of racing. The revving engines, the smell of burnt rubber, and the exhilaration hanging in the air—every race was a whirlwind of excitement.

As a social media influencer, you had the chance to immerse yourself in this electrifying world, and attending each Grand Prix was like living in a breathtaking dream.

But it wasn't just the races that thrilled you; it was the company you kept, particularly Max.

He was a whirlwind on the track, deftly maneuvering through the chaos of his competitors. Off the track, however, he was refreshingly down-to-earth.

From the moment you met, a strong bond formed—a friendship that quickly evolved into the kind of connection that made fans and onlookers raise their eyebrows with curiosity.

Your camaraderie was vibrant and infectious, turning the drivers’ lounge into your personal arena of chaos where everyone else was a spectator.

“Hey, Max!” you exclaimed, waving as he walked through the driver’s lounge after a particularly grueling race in Miami. A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“Y/N! Ready for some ‘maxplaining’?” he teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You mean me doing the yapping, Maxplaining is your job.”

“Touché,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But let’s compare notes on what went wrong today. I have a few things to say.”

You led him to a quieter corner, the hum of the lounge fading as the two of you settled into a rhythm. You were comfortable with each other, like family.

“Okay, admit it,” you began, leaning in conspiratorially. “You totally could have cut that last corner better. What were you thinking?”

Max feigned a horrified gasp. “What do you mean? I was just giving the crowds a show! It’s about the drama, Y/N!”

“Drama?” you chuckled. “More like a slow dance with the wall! Lando warned you, didn’t he?”

Max smirked, clearly enjoying the banter. “Lando is always going on about it. It’s like he thinks he can drive better just because he’s got a fancy new helmet.”

At that, you burst out laughing, imagining Lando prancing around, confidently boasting about helmet aerodynamics while utterly ignoring the zen of driving.

Lando had long since accepted his role in your friendship as the comedic relief, always reminding you both to loosen up amidst the pressure.

As the races sped by from more distant tracks like COTA to the legendary Brazil Grand Prix, your friendship deepened wonderfully, forming an unbreakable bond.

Instagram stories filled with laughter and spontaneous videos of Max’s antics, unfiltered and untamed, all while being followed by millions.

It wasn’t merely a friendship; it was an adventure, one you cherished.

“Oh, I’m definitely maxplaining this one for the Gram,” you declared one day, holding up your phone as Max attempted to juggle a football while simultaneously answering questions from fans.

“Y/N, focus! We need to practice our pre-race rituals, not showcase my juggling skills,” Max replied, though he couldn’t resist the allure of the camera, striking a mock-serious pose.

“Fine, focus mode activated! But I’ll always film your epic fails,” you bantered, capturing him dramatically failing to keep the football afloat.

The moments you shared were infused with invaluable lessons and effortless joy. It was on a chill evening following a hot race that things began to shift for you both.

“Do you ever think about what life would be like if you weren’t racing? Like, normal stuff?” you asked, settling comfortably in a lounge chair, your gaze fixed on the sunset outside the paddock.

Max paused, his expression turning thoughtful. “Sometimes. It’s hard, though. Racing is everything I know—you lose track of reality. But I guess if I weren’t here...” he trailed off, his brow furrowing, “I’d probably be lost.”

“I get that,” you affirmed. “But you’re not just a racer, Max. You’re an inspiration to so many. It’s more than just speed; it’s the grit and passion the fans see.”

A shy smile crept across his face. “And you, Y/N, you’re more than just this influencer. You humanize the sport. You put a face to racing that isn’t just helmets and stats.”

Caught off guard by his sincerity, you felt a flutter in your chest. “Thanks, Max. That means a lot,” you replied, warmth spreading through you.

There was a beat of silence before he continued, “Have you ever thought about how this could go beyond racing?”

Your heart raced. “What do you mean?”

"Nothing," he muttered shyly, his ears went bright red and excused himself to finish his debriefing. . . .

The evening sun cast a warm glow over the park as Max leaned against a nearby wall, scrolling through his phone.

He had been enjoying his time with you, your banter and laughter filling the air, a comfortable rhythm you had established over the weeks.

Yet, beneath the surface of your friendship, Max felt a flicker of something deeper, a burgeoning affection he hadn’t quite dared to voice.

Suddenly, he noticed a figure approaching you—a tall, dark-haired guy who carried himself with an ease that annoyed Max for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate.

As the guy drew closer, he greeted you with a wide smile, and you responded with a tension in your shoulders that sent alarm bells ringing in Max’s head.

"Hey, Y/N!" the guy said, his voice overly cheerful as if he were trying to create an upbeat atmosphere. "Long time no see! How have you been?"

“Uh, hi, Ben,” you replied, your voice lacking its usual vibrancy. “I’ve been… good.” You shifted your weight uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact while fiddling with the strap of your bag.

Max couldn’t hear the rest of your conversation, but he could see your discomfort rise like a tide. Ben leaned in closer, gesturing animatedly with his hands, and Max’s heart raced.

It was clear you wanted to retreat, but Ben seemed oblivious to your disinterest.

Max took a step off the wall, deciding he didn't like the way Ben was invading your personal space. He approached them, a casual yet protective demeanor in his stride.

“Hey, babe! There you are!” he had called out, forcing the brightness into his tone, hoping to drown out the awkwardness hanging in the air.

Your relief was evident as you turned to him with that light that made everything feel right.

“Oh! Maxy, hey!” you exclaimed, that simple greeting sending a jolt of happiness through him.

He couldn’t help but grin at the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, a stark contrast to the cloud that overhung your expression when you were with Ben.

“Yeah, I just… um, was catching up with Ben here,” you said, the slight falter in your voice not going unnoticed by Max.

He felt a flicker of protectiveness flare up inside him, and he stepped closer, narrowing the space between you and Ben.

“Ben!” Max called, feigning cheerfulness as he directed his attention to the other guy, whose smile seemed to dim the moment he realized Max had entered the scene. “You’re still talking about high school? What a wild ride that was, right?”

Ben chuckled lightly, clearly irritated with Max's interruption but not wanting to show it. “Yeah, we were just reminiscing about old times,” he replied, shooting you a glance. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you muttered, your gaze darting away, unable to meet either of their eyes.

Max could see you were struggling, trapped in some unspoken tension, but he didn’t want to let you stay there any longer.

“Well, we’ve got our own plans,” Max interjected smoothly, a hint of challenge in his voice as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder gently.

“So, are you ready to grab that smoothie we talked about? The mango one?” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice like a conspirator sharing a secret, “I hear it’s worth it.”

You caught his eyes, and in that moment, your gratitude was palpable.

“Yes! I could really go for a mango smoothie right now,” you said, the tension easing from your face as you shifted your weight towards Max, your unexpected ally in this moment.

“Smoothies are great for tackling the past,” Max added with an exaggerated grin at Ben, who now looked like a puppet with its strings cut.

Max felt a thrill of satisfaction watching the other man’s expression sour, knowing you were finally free to escape this uncomfortable confrontation.

“Good to see you, Y/N,” Ben forced through gritted teeth, his eyes boring into Max as if trying to figure him out.

“Yeah, you too,” you replied, the practiced politeness in your tone striking a sharp contrast to the warmth you’d shown Max.

Together, you turned away from Ben, the café’s atmosphere lightening as you stepped outside into the warm sun.

Once you reached the sidewalk, your sigh of relief was almost comical. “Thank you for that, Max. I didn’t know how to get away.”

“Anytime,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual while his heart raced. “Ben can be a little… intense, can’t he?”

You laughed, the sound genuine and bright. “Intense is one way to put it. He has a way of making things complicated.”

“He’s... well, we have some history that’s not exactly fun,” you admitted, your expression somber as you waited for your smoothies.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Max asked gently, his heart thumping in his chest.

He didn’t want to push you, but he was curious and concerned at the same time.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your phone. “It was just a complicated relationship. One of those where things started out great, but eventually spiraled into something toxic. It was… hard to let go.”

Max’s expression softened. “I understand. You don’t have to share everything if you’re not comfortable, though. I just want you to know I’m here for you, always.”

You smiled, a genuine light coming back to your eyes. “I appreciate that, Max. I think after all this time, I’ve finally learned what I want in my life. You just being here means a lot.”

“That’s what friends are for, right? And I wouldn’t want anyone to make you feel uncomfortable. You deserve better than that,” Max said, handing you the smoothie.

“Thanks, Max. You really are a great friend.” As you two walked away from the stand, you stole a glance at him, your eyes shining. “You know, I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

Max smiled. He just hoped he was something more to you. . . . .

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon when your phone buzzed unexpectedly. The screen lit up, revealing an incoming call from a number you recognized as belonging to Red Bull Racing's media team.

Your heart raced; you just had been following F1 closely, and your recent friendship with Max Verstappen had garnered its fair share of attention on social media.

You answered the call, curiosity piqued.

“Hey! Is this Y/N?” a cheerful voice greeted on the other end.

“Yes, it is!” you replied, trying to sound composed. “Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Sarah from Red Bull's media team. We’ve been monitoring the amazing fan reactions to the content featuring you and Max. We’d love to capitalize on that momentum,” she explained.

"We’d like to invite you to join Max for a fun game, which we plan to share on our social media. Are you up for it?"

You couldn’t believe it. “Absolutely,”

“Great! We’ll set it up for tomorrow afternoon. You'll both be given ten questions. Some will be about F1, and others will be random. Sound good?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you hung up, excitement bubbling inside.

Who wouldn't want to play a game with one of F1's biggest stars?

The next day, you arrived at the Red Bull Racing headquarters, a breathtaking fusion of sleek modern design and rich motorsport culture.

The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted with genuine smiles from the team members bustling around, their energy infectious, the air thick with the anticipation that always brewed before a race.

ou could hear the chatter about tire compounds and race strategies, a symphony of excitement that made your heart race.

After a quick cup of coffee—rich and strong enough to zap you awake—you engaged in light banter with a few of the engineers, teasing them about the latest car performance.

Just as you were beginning to feel at home, Olivia, the content manager, came over and ushered me into a bright studio space designed explicitly for video content.

“Ready for some fun today?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

“I’m always ready for fun, especially with Max,” you replied with a grin.

As you entered the studio, you spotted Max Verstappen lounging against a table, his trademark red and blue cap perched backward on his head.

He was scrolling through his phone, but he looked up as you walked in, his face lighting up with a warm grin.

“Hey! Finally, the famous Y/N has arrived!” he exclaimed, his tone playful and welcoming.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Don’t exaggerate, Max. I’m just the guy who occasionally shows up in your videos.”

“Nah, you’re a big deal now! Everyone loves the banter we have,” he insisted, pushing himself off the table and giving you a light punch on the shoulder. “Ready to get this started?”

“Absolutely. Let’s see who knows the other better!” you replied, feeling playful and competitive.

Sarah stepped in, ready to explain the rules. “Alright, everyone! Here’s how it will work. You’ll each take turns asking questions, alternating between F1 trivia and personal ones. Let’s find out just how well you know each other!”

“Sounds good,” Max said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ladies first.”

“Alright, Max,” you said, preparing to razz him with your first question. “What’s my favorite food?”

He crossed his arms, a teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s easy—pasta! But the way you always go on about it makes it seem like you think you’re Italian.”

You burst out laughing, caught off guard by his accuracy. “Damn! You’ve been paying attention,” you replied with mock disbelief. “But just wait till you get yours.”

“Bring it on!” He replied, leaning in with an eager grin.

You took a deep breath and decided to up the ante. “Okay, here’s an F1 trivia question. What year did Red Bull Racing first win the Constructors’ Championship?”

Without missing a beat, he said, “2010,” You raised an eyebrow. “Impressive!”

Then it was Max’s turn. He leaned closer, an intensity in his gaze. “What’s the last concert you went to?”

You paused for a moment, recalling the memory. “It was a Coldplay concert last year. They were amazing!”

The questions flowed naturally, and laughter filled the room as the banter turned to playful teasing. Each time he got an answer right, there was a spark—a moment of connection that seemed to linger in the air a second too long.

You caught him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his expression both challenging and curious.

“Okay, okay, I have one for you,” he said, leaning forward conspiratorially, as if ready to break some sacred bond. “What do I like to do on my days off?”

You squinted, trying to remember the few times the team had shared off days together. “Uh, you like spending time with your cats, and you also love to do sim racing?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Close! I do love spending time with sim racing, but I also spend too much time playing FIFA. You should’ve known that!”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Alright, your turn! What’s my guilty pleasure?”

Max smirked, a glint of mischief swirling in his gaze. “You’re definitely a sucker for reality TV. Pretty sure I’ve caught you watching Love Island USA a couple of times.”

“Guilty as charged!” you admitted, laughing along with him. “But I can defend my choices if you want—ahem, it’s simple entertainment!”

His lighthearted ribbing felt warm and right, and the camaraderie between the two of you had grown into a familiar rapport almost effortlessly.

As the Q&A continued, you both slowly drifted into laughter punctuated by thoughtful pauses where a silence spoke volumes.

You began to wonder if he felt the same magnetic pull you were experiencing. In those fleeting glances, you saw a flash of something—curiosity, longing—as if both of you were teetering on the edge of discovery.

Finally, as the game progressed toward the final question, Sarah interrupted with an excited sway. “Alright, I think we’re done for now! This video is definitely going to be a hit.”

You glanced at Max, who still wore that boyish grin—his energy infectious as he reveled in the laughter circulating around the room.

But deeper than that, you felt a weight pressing on your heart, urging you to say something more.

“Hey, Max, can I ask you something?” you called out, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” He looked at you with genuine curiosity, and for a brief moment, it felt as though you were in a bubble, shut away from everyone else.

“About our chemistry—does it mean anything to you?” The question hung in the air like a transmitted spark, and you could see his expression turn serious, the lightness shifting into something deeper.

He took a moment, weighing your words. “Ever since we started being friends, it’s been… different. Fun, but something more,” he admitted, the sincerity in his voice resonating through you.

Your heart soared. Max was just as captivated by your chemistry as you were. It was as if some invisible thread had tethered you both, pulling you closer together.

With a casual flip of his cap back to forward, Max held your gaze. The laughter faded, and there you stood, surrounded by the energy of the Red Bull Racing headquarters, but your world had narrowed down to this single moment.

You felt the magnetic connection evolve into something tangible, something real that could break the barriers between colleagues and something much deeper—a thrilling journey ahead sparked by an unexpected electric tension. . . .

You glided down the hallway, adrenaline and excitement coursing through your veins. This was no ordinary night; in an unexpected twist, Max had chosen you to accompany him to an exclusive F1 gala.

You had always seen him as more than just a friend, but the tension between you had never been openly addressed—until now.

The door to the living room gave way, revealing Max perched comfortably on the sofa, his classic black tuxedo accentuating the chiselled lines of his physique. His tousled dark hair was slicked back, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw.

You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked. But when he turned to face you, his expression changed from admiration to sheer shock.

“How do I look?” you asked playfully, knowing full well that the dress you wore clung to your curves in just the right way.

Lifting the last of your earrings into place, you caught his gaze, lingering far too long on your neckline.

Max’s mouth fell slightly open, and he stammered, “I-uh- You look— You look great.”

His eyes seemed glued to your chest, and you smirked at him, shaking your head. “Yeah, okay, let’s keep our thoughts innocent,” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He blinked rapidly, as if waking from a trance, and his cheeks tinged with a light shade of crimson. “Right. Innocent. Of course.” His voice dropped an octave, trying to regain composure.

“You look—really beautiful. I mean, not that you don’t always…”

You laughed softly, enjoying the fluster you’d caused in the usually confident driver. “Thanks, Max. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He stood up, adjusting the lapels of his tux and shooting you a half-welcoming smile. “Ready to go? I think I’m about to break a world record for the longest time spent staring without saying anything coherent.”

“Let’s get out of here before you break any more records,” you replied, grabbing your clutch and heading toward the door.

The gala was being held at a splendid venue in Monaco, the ambiance glowing with extravagance. The soft sounds of classical music floated through the air as you and Max made your way inside, adorned in gold and silver decorations.

It felt surreal, the elegance around you contrasting sharply with the adrenaline-fueled world of racing that was Max’s daily routine.

As you entered, the murmurs of guests turned into a wave of excitement. “Max! Over here!” A handful of fans spotted him, rushing forward with cameras and excited whispers.

You watched as he interacted with them effortlessly, signing autographs and posing for pictures. A wave of pride washed over you; he was not just a friend but a superstar—one of the best drivers in the world.

After several moments of mingling with his fans, he returned to your side, breathless from the attention.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, his voice now lowered to an almost intimate whisper. “It’s... a lot sometimes.”

You offered him a warm smile, knowing how taxing the spotlight could be. “It’s nice to see you outside of the track. You can actually relax for once.”

With that notion in mind, he later led you to the bar, where you both ordered drinks—Max preferring a classic whiskey while you chose a sparkling signature cocktail adorned with fresh fruit.

As you sipped your second drink, you turned to him. “So, any secret dreams for the season?”

Max leaned back against the bar, an amused smile stretching across his face. “Well, aside from winning, I might want to one-up my last season’s record. Or maybe…”

He paused dramatically, “I was hoping for a podium finish on our next outing in Italy. It’s always been a special place for me.”

“Why is that? The food, the scenery?” you queried, genuinely curious.

“It’s got the perfect blend of everything. The passion, the fans... And the tire placements at Monza are—well, they’re quite thrilling,” he explained, his enthusiasm evident.

You listened, fascinated by his love for the sport and the intricacies he shared. “I can see why you love it so much,” you replied, “It’s like an art form...”

“Exactly!” His eyes sparked with enthusiasm. “And speaking of art, I could hardly choose an artwork more stunning than you tonight.”

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you chuckled softly. “Smooth, Max. Just remember, I’m not a trophy to be won.”

“More like a prize, then,” he shot back, his grinning eyes glinting in the light.

After what felt like a whirl of conversations and laughter, you noticed the transition in the evening. As Max caught your gaze, he spoke softly, “Say, would you like to dance?”

You hesitated for a moment, caught off-guard. “Dance? I’m not even sure I know how to—”

“You know how to sway, don’t you?” he teased, offering his hand. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you shifted onto the dance floor, surrounded by elegantly dressed couples twirling and gliding with grace. The music faded into an intoxicating sound that seemed to pull you both closer together.

His hand found the small of your back, guiding you smoothly.

“What do you think?” he whispered in your ear as you found your rhythm. “Not so bad, is it?”

“Not bad at all,” you replied, heart racing as you shared his space. The warmth from his body enveloped you, grounding you.

Eventually, the song slowed, and as you swayed in closer, you could feel the heat radiating between you. It was a different rhythm now, one that echoed the unspoken tension of your friendship.

You felt his breath hitch as he leaned closer, inhaling softly.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice earnest.

“Yeah?” You searched his face, and the way his eyes flickered with vulnerability sent a shiver down your spine.

“I’m glad I chose you to come with me tonight,” he admitted, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re not just a date; you’re... you’re everything.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I care about you. More than just a friend,” he confessed, the courage of his words electrifying.

And there it was, laid bare before you in the most romantic of settings.

“Max, I feel the same.”

His gaze held yours, vulnerability mixing with unfettered joy. The music around you faded, but the world felt suspended in time, just the two of you wrapped in honesty.

He took a breath, then leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours, tentative at first. You melted into the kiss, feeling like the most cherished person in the room.

The night had transformed into something truly unforgettable, and you knew that this moment was the beginning of something beautiful.

You wake up to the insistent buzzing of your phone beside you on the bedside table. Light streams through the curtains, illuminating the chaos of your living room, remnants from the night before—glasses, laughter, and the unmistakable scent of champagne.

You try to ignore the phone, but the buzzing doesn’t stop, and neither does the nauseating flutter of anxiety in your stomach.

“Who is it?” you murmur to yourself, glancing at the screen. Max’s name flashes back at you, and your heart races. Memories come flooding back. The party. The laughter.

His lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made everything else in the room melt away. The kiss—a moment suspended in time, etched forever into your mind.

But then everything changed. The kiss had been captured, and going viral made it feel all too public. You had fallen for him—hard—but now the weight of that kiss felt like a betrayal.

You were terrified it would affect his career, and yet, what happened was beautiful. You cannot reconcile the two.

“God, what have I done?” You bury your face in your hands as shame washes over you. The thought of what the public would say twists like a knife in your heart.

You pick up your phone and stare at it, the guilt tightening its grip on your throat. You tell yourself you should call Max, but what would you even say?

You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve ruined everything. You let it ring through to voicemail, your thumb hovering over the disconnect button.

“Hey, it’s Max Verstappen. I’m probably busy right now, but please leave a message.” His cheerful voice rings out, and you hear the tremor of hope in it.

You feel like you might cry, but you can’t give in. Not now. You drop the phone back onto the table, letting out a shaky breath.

A few hours later, you finally get out of bed and make yourself a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will steady your nerves. On impulse, you switch on your laptop.

The first thing you see is a headline blaring from every angle: Max and Y/N: The Viral Kiss That Broke the Internet. Your heart sinks further. This was surreal and terrifying all at once.

“Incredible,” you mutter under your breath, rolling your eyes. You want to escape from it all. In that moment, the coffee tastes bitter.

Later that afternoon, you’re stirring the milk when your phone lights up again. It’s Max. You feel a rush of warmth mixed with dread.

You hesitate, fingers trembling as you stare at his name. Finally, you press the button, willing yourself to answer.

“Hello?” his voice is light, almost cheerful, and you can hear how easy it is for him to smile despite the chaos surrounding both of you.

“Max,” you manage, voice shaky. “We need to talk.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “Are you okay?” His concern is palpable. “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath. “About last night… the kiss… the cameras… I can't help but feel like I’ve ruined your career somehow. We’re all over the media, Max! What if it affects your races? Your reputation?”

“Whoa, whoa,” he interjects, clearly caught off guard. “You didn’t ruin anything. Trust me. In fact, I’m glad it happened. I wanted people to know how I feel.”

“How can you be so relaxed about this?” you manage, frustration creeping in. “You’re an F1 driver. Your image matters.”

“Yeah, but my heart matters more,” he replies, and there's an unmistakable intensity in his tone. “You matter more.”

“Max, what do you mean?” Your heart skips a beat. Those words run like electricity through you.

“You and me… last night was amazing—life-changing, actually. I’ve been wanting to be with you for a long time, and it finally happened.” He chuckles softly, the sound bringing a small smile to your lips.

“All the media chatter is just noise. I'm happy people see how I feel about you.”

“You don’t understand. They’ll twist it. They’ll make it sound like you’re just some guy who kisses his fans! This isn’t a good look!”

“Listen,” he says firmly. “If they want to spin it that way, let them. But I know the truth, and so do you. I didn’t kiss a fan; I kissed the person I care about the most. That’s you, and nothing anyone says will change that.”

You feel like you could cry. Max’s words are a balm for your frayed nerves. But still, the doubt claws at you. “What if it backfires? What if it affects your team’s performance?”

“It won’t,” he insists, voice lighter now. “I thrive on pressure. Trust me; if I can drive a Formula 1 car at 200 miles an hour, I can manage whatever they throw at me. More importantly, it’s you I want in my life. Can you at least think about that?”

The sincerity in his voice is undeniable. You take a moment, letting it seep in. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason you face backlash.”

“Only if you don’t call back,” he says, teasing you gently. “But seriously, let’s enjoy this. Go out with me, just once, without worrying about the cameras.”

“I don’t even know how the press will react,” you sigh.

“Then surprise them. Pick a restaurant, and I’ll be there.”

You can feel your heart racing as you mull it over, but deep down, something beautiful stirs—a possibility, a spark. You could face the chaos together.

Finally, you admit, “Okay, then. Tomorrow, let’s go to that Italian place we love. But just a warning: I’m not putting on a show for anyone.”

“Perfect. Just you, me, and pasta,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, feeling the tension ease a little.

As you hang up, you stare out the window, meeting your own gaze in the reflection.

The episode before you has unsettled you, but perhaps, just perhaps, you and Max are writing the first chapter of something profound—something that even the world beyond the two of you could never fully understand.

Your heart swells with anticipation for what lies ahead. . . .

The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of your room, casting playful patterns on the floor as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your heart raced with excitement and nerves as you brushed the last strokes of mascara on your lashes.

You wanted to look your best, not just for yourself, but for Max. After the viral moment that had your names splashed across every social media feed, meeting up felt like stepping into a whirlwind you couldn’t escape, nor did you want to.

“You look amazing!” your best friend Mia said, planting herself on your bed, her phone in hand. “That dress is perfect for you!”

You twirled in front of the mirror, the fabric swirling around your legs. “Do you think he’ll even notice?” you laughed nervously, trying to inject levity into the situation.

“Are you kidding? Max will definitely notice. He’s been on cloud nine since that kiss!” Mia replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, who wouldn’t be a little distracted by the thought of a girl like you?”

Just then, the sound of your phone buzzing stole your attention. You rushed over, your heart leaping when you saw Max’s name.

“Hey!” you said, trying to contain your excitement.

“Hey!” he replied, his voice warm and a little nervous. “I’m outside. Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just give me a second!” you hurried to grab your jacket and purse, glancing at Mia over your shoulder. She gave you a thumbs-up and a grin before you dashed down the stairs and out the door.

Max stood leaning against his car, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted navy shirt and jeans that accentuated his athletic figure. His hair was slightly tousled, the sun catching the glint in his blue eyes as he turned to you.

“Wow,” he said, his smile widening. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks! You don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, trying to act cool while your cheeks heated up.

“Ready for our big adventure?” he asked, opening the car door for you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with a laugh, settling into the passenger seat.

Max drove in a comfortable silence for a while, the radio playing softly in the background as you occasionally glanced at one another, the tension palpable yet exciting. Eventually, you broke the silence.

“So, about that kiss…” you began, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

Max chuckled, a little shyly, “You mean the one that broke the internet?”

“Yeah, that one! Do you think… I mean, how do you feel about it?” you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

He glanced at you, his expression serious yet playful. “Honestly? I’m still pinching myself. I didn’t expect to get carried away like that, but when I saw you, it was like everything else faded away.”

“Same here,” you admitted, your gaze locked onto his profile, trying to decipher his thoughts. “But now the whole world knows, and that’s a little overwhelming.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. I wasn’t ready for the headlines either. But I kind of love that we’re doing this together, even if people are watching.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with the attention?” you asked, concern flickering across your features. “I mean, we didn’t even talk about what this means.”

Max reached over and placed his hand on yours, sending a warm jolt through your arm. “I’m okay with it because it’s you. I like you, and I want to see where this can go, with all the chaos around us.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “You really mean that?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a sincerity that made your breath catch. “So, how about we forget about the cameras and just enjoy our time together?”

Nodding eagerly, you felt a surge of relief wash over you. “I’d like that.”

You spent the afternoon at a quaint café downtown, the hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee setting a cozy atmosphere. You shared stories over pastries, laughter ringing between you both as you learned more about one another.

“Okay, your turn,” you said after Max revealed his embarrassing childhood nickname. “What’s your biggest fear?”

Max took a moment to think, a slight furrow spreading across his brow. “Honestly? Losing the people I care about. Being a driver means that you travel a lot which means you lose friends quickly.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling a rush of empathy.

“It’s alright,” he said quickly, lifting his gaze to meet yours. “It taught me to value the people in my life even more. I guess that’s why I feel so lucky to have met you.”

Your heart fluttered as he leaned in slightly, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Also, I’m terrified of clowns.”

You burst into laughter, the tension from earlier melting away. “Oh come on! You can’t be serious.”

“I am! They’re just so unpredictable,” he insisted, his expression mock-stern. “One minute they’re juggling, and the next, they’re doing who knows what.”

You continued to share stories and tease each other, the world beyond the restaurant fading away. It wasn’t until you stepped out into the warm evening that you realized just how much you enjoyed his company.

“Wanna take a walk?” Max suggested, his hand naturally finding yours.

“I’d love to,” you replied, intertwining your fingers with his while you strolled through the twinkling lights of the downtown streets.

As you walked, the conversation flowed easily, your laughter mingling with the warm evening breeze. With every passing moment, the nervousness that had initially gripped you dissipated, replaced by a growing affection.

Then, as you rounded a quieter corner near the park, Max paused, turning to face me. The city lights danced in his eyes, and the warmth between you two was undeniable.

“Can I—” he hesitated, his gaze searching yours, “Can I kiss you again?”

You nodded, your heart fluttering wildly. “Definitely.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours, igniting a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. This kiss was different, deeper, and more meaningful than the last—an unspoken promise of what was to come.

You pulled away, and you laughed breathlessly, trying to catch your breath.

“You know, if this goes viral too, at least it’ll be a better story,” Max teased, a charming smile spreading across his face.

“Let them talk!” you giggled, feeling a wave of confidence wash over you. “As long as it’s with you, I’m in.”

“Good,” he replied, his expression sincere. “Because I think we’re just getting started.”

With that, hand in hand, you continued your stroll, the world around you two fading into a beautiful blur as you embraced the adventure that lay ahead—together.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the paddock. You and Max walked hand in hand, the sensation both electrifying and soothing.

The world had made a spectacle of your private moment, and now, as you stepped into the paddock, everyone watched, their eyes glimmering with curiosity and amusement.

“Why do you have to look at me like that? It’s making me weak, please stop,” you said, your voice a soft murmur as you caught his gaze.

His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something deeper—an unspoken promise that made your heart race.

Max chuckled, a warm laugh that seemed to drown out the chatter of the surrounding crowd. “Look at you, though. How can I not? You’re stunning today,” he said, his fingers gently squeezing yours.

He was always so effortless, a confidence that could light up a room, and now he was casting that glow on you.

You blushed slightly, trying to suppress a smile. “You know that’s not fair. You always know what to say to make me squirm,” you replied playfully, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“I’m just being honest,” he replied, turning serious for a moment. “You have to know how lucky I feel. I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone.

The sincerity in his words made you feel exposed, yet cherished.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at the compliment. “Lucky, huh? You’re the one racing in the fastest cars in the world. I’m just here, taking selfies and trying not to trip over all the cables.”

He squeezed your hand, a reassuring gesture that made you feel as if the two of you were in your own little world, separate from the high-octane chaos surrounding you. “Nah, the real race is in my heart. And you’ve won it.”

“Smooth talker,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully, though your heart fluttered at his words. “Just wait until you end up on the podium again; you’ll be too busy celebrating to remember little ol’ me.”

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice filled with conviction. “You know I’d dedicate every race to you if I could. Last time on the podium—remember? I pointed to you. That was for you.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, your smile wide. “You were practically glowing. It was such an amazing moment.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier,” Max said, a serious tone creeping into his voice. “Every time I look at you, I get reminded of what really matters.”

“Okay, now you’re going to make me cry,” you joked, but there was a hint of sincerity in your tone. “Don’t ruin my makeup, please!”

Max laughed, the sound warm and infectious. “I promise, I won’t deliberately make you cry. But you are basically my good luck charm. You have to come to every race now.”

“Deal. But I get to pick the after-party spots,” you replied, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Who said I was going to take you to an after-party? I might want to just take you home and cook you dinner.”

“Cook? You?” You laughed. “I thought you’d just rely on takeout after the races.”

“I can surprise you,” he said with a smirk. “Besides, there’s something nice about a home-cooked meal. Wouldn’t you want to try my pasta? I’ve perfected it over the years.”

“Fine, but it better not be like the time you tried to make pancakes and turned them into a science experiment,” you shot back, remembering the sticky disaster that had resulted in laughter and flour-coated walls.

“Hey! That was one time. I’m much better now,” he insisted, pretending to be offended. But the twinkle in his eyes told you he was just teasing.

As you walked past the team garages, you noticed the crew setting up for the next race, and the adrenaline of the environment pulsed through you. “Max, look at all of this hustle and bustle. Doesn’t it make your heart race?”

He nodded, his expression serious now as he gazed at the busy scene. “Definitely. It’s the thrill of competition—everyone’s working hard for one goal. But to me, nothing compares to this moment with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?”

“I try my best,” he admitted, a playful grin returning. “But honestly, you inspire me to push harder, to be better. I want to win races, not just for myself, but for you.”

“Max, that’s so sweet. Just promise me you won’t risk it all out there. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

His expression softened, and he brought your hands to his lips, kissing them gently. “I promise. I’ll always be careful. You and I have a lifetime of moments to create together, and I won’t let anything take that away.”

You both stood there for a moment, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as you simply enjoyed each other’s company. The world around you became a blur, and it felt as if time stood still.

“Alright, what’s next on our agenda?” Max asked, breaking the spell of the moment.

You glanced around thoughtfully. “How about we grab a bite to eat? I’m starving.”

“Perfect! I know this great place just down the road. And after that, I’ll show you my secret hiding spot in the paddock where I keep my trophies,” he said, winking at you.

“Trophies and secrets? You really do know how to woo a girl,” you replied, playfully nudging him as you both started walking toward the exit.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty more up my sleeve,” he said confidently, pulling you closer as you stepped into the evening light, hand in hand, ready to face whatever adventures were ahead. "You are my priority after all,"

[bitchiswild]

Us Against The World

Rosé x F! Reader Word Count:887 Warnings:none A/n:i need more music from Blackpink Requested

You and Rosie have been in a relationship for over two years now. Both of you are former members of the immensely popular girl groups Blackpink and Twice. Lately, fans have started to piece things together and are slowly realizing the depth of your connection, wondering if you're more than just close friends but actual lovers.

The suspicions among fans began to arise due to the amount of time you and Rosie spent together. Whether it's days spent in each other's company or those instances when one of you goes live on social media, the other always seems to be present in the background, fueling conspiracies and speculations.

"Here we go again," you remarked to your girlfriend as you scrolled through Twitter, encountering numerous posts speculating about your relationship. Chaeyoung glanced over, leaning in closer to take a look. "Should we just tell them?" she pondered.

You shook your head. "Nah, I think it's kind of amusing. Let's see if they can piece it together. Besides, we're not exactly hiding our relationship; they just can't figure out if we're friends or lovers," you said with a chuckle.

Chaeyoung chuckled along with you. "You're right. Let's post another picture on Instagram, something similar, and use similar captions. That'll definitely stir up some commotion," she said with a mischievous smile, reaching for her phone to find the perfect photo.

After exchanging mischievous grins, you and Chaeyoung decided on the perfect photo and crafted matching captions for your Instagram posts. The images were almost identical, capturing a candid moment of the two of you laughing together, bathed in golden sunlight. The captions were cryptic yet playful, leaving fans guessing about the true nature of your relationship.

Within moments of posting, your notifications exploded with activity. Fans immediately began dissecting every detail of the photos and captions, drawing comparisons and analyzing potential hidden meanings. The comments section quickly filled with a mix of excitement, confusion, and wild speculation.

"OMG, are they hinting at something?!" one fan exclaimed, while another wrote, "They're definitely more than just friends, look at the way they're looking at each other!" The similarities between your posts only fueled the frenzy, with fans sharing screenshots side by side, pointing out every tiny similarity and difference.

As the posts gained traction, your Instagram feeds became flooded with reactions from fans across the globe. Some were convinced that you and Chaeyoung were indeed a couple, while others argued that you were simply close friends and nothing more. The debate raged on, intensifying with each new comment and share.

Through it all, you and Chaeyoung watched the chaos unfold with amusement, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle you had created. It was a testament to the power of social media and the fervent dedication of your fans, whose imaginations ran wild as they tried to unravel the mystery of your relationship.

The day your relationship was inadvertently exposed was one for the books, filled with unexpected twists and turns that left you and Rosie both amused and slightly stunned. It happened in the picturesque city of Paris, where you were attending a prestigious fashion show as ambassadors for YSL.

What started as a quiet, romantic date that Rosie had planned turned into a whirlwind of events when an eagle-eyed fan spotted the two of you together. They followed discreetly, capturing candid moments on camera, but things took a surprising turn when they caught you and Rosie stealing a sweet kiss amidst the Parisian charm.

The fan wasted no time in sharing the incriminating evidence on Twitter, setting off a chain reaction that sent shockwaves through social media and beyond. The photos and videos quickly went viral, sparking a frenzy of speculation and discussion among fans and even grabbing the attention of local news outlets.

In the midst of the swirling emotions and intense scrutiny that followed the exposure of your relationship, you and Rosie found solace in each other's presence. As you retreated to the privacy of your shared space, the weight of the world seemed to lift off your shoulders, replaced by a sense of calm and reassurance.

"I can't believe how crazy things have gotten," Rosie remarked, her voice tinged with disbelief as she scrolled through the endless stream of comments on her phone.

You nodded in agreement, wrapping your arms around her in a comforting embrace. "I know, it's overwhelming. But we'll get through this together," you reassured her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Despite the mixed reactions from fans and the media, you and Rosie remained steadfast in your commitment to each other. As you navigated the tumultuous waters of public scrutiny, you found strength in each other's unwavering support and love.

"It's like a rollercoaster ride," Rosie mused, a hint of amusement in her voice as she leaned into your embrace.

You chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. "Yeah, but at least we're in it together," you replied, smiling warmly at her.

In the face of adversity, your bond with Rosie only grew stronger, a beacon of light guiding you through the darkest of times. And as you weathered the storm of mixed emotions together, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always have each other's backs. It was the two of you against the world.

[denimbex1986]

'When Cillian Murphy took to the podium during Sunday night’s Golden Globes, his nose smudged in his wife’s lipstick, it was as if a door had opened on this Hollywood Neverland and an ambassador for the real world had stepped through.

Accepting the Best Actor in a Drama award for Oppenheimer, Murphy wasn’t so much un-starry as stonkingly everyday. Here was a normal person who had somehow beamed into peak Tinseltown and, if pleased, was also clearly a bit perplexed by it all.

The Oppenheimer win has made Murphy a frontrunner for the Oscars. In all likelihood, he will be up against a creepy Barry Keoghan in Saltburn, an overblown Bradley Cooper in Maestro, and a fervent Leonard DiCaprio in Killers of the Flower Moon. With the arguable exception of the grandstanding Cooper, all would be worthy winners. And yet, underdogs everywhere will be cheering for Murphy. He’s spent the past 20 years negotiating Hollywood on his own terms and has rejected Tinseltown’s showiness in favour of staying grounded and playing the long game.

Murphy always wanted to be an actor rather than a star. Such a choice could easily have condemned him to a lifetime of supporting roles. Or a hiatus in TV, to which he seemed exiled when he settled in for a long run as Tommy Shelby in Birmingham noir Peaky Blinders.

But his decision to turn away from flashy parts has proved inspired. He is that rarest of things: an experienced A-list actor who comes to the Oscars without baggage. Unlike DiCaprio, he hasn’t had to overcome a past life as a teen pin-up. Nor does he have to justify a lucrative stint in comic book films, as Cooper has with his time as Rocket Racoon in Guardians of the Galaxy.

Above all, Murphy goes into Oscar season as an antidote to the “look at me!” culture of the social media era. In an age when fame is regarded as the ultimate commodity – more important than awards or critical acclaim – Murphy would rather let his work speak for itself. He lives humbly in suburban Dublin with his wife and two children – and his great passion outside of acting is music, as demonstrated by his semi-regular presenting slot on BBC 6 Music.

That’s lifetimes removed from Hollywood, with its self-mythologising and turbo-charged fakeness. It is also of a piece with his career since he broke through playing a survivor of the zombie apocalypse in Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later. Ever since, he has chosen his jobs thoughtfully. In so doing, he has assembled a body of work of which he can be proud.

He hasn’t been above popcorn. He was a memorable villain in Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins, where he played the Scarecrow as a trippy nightmare. But even when shooting for the box office, Murphy has been studiedly un-starry. Careful to keep his ego in check, he’s often happy in an ensemble – hugging the background in A Quiet Place II and settling for an extended cameo in Nolan’s Dunkirk, where he was content to let Harry Styles and Tom Hardy hog the spotlight.

Hog it they did – yet it was Murphy who proved to be in it for the long road. Because he could go into Oppenheimer without a Hollywood aura, he disappeared into the role. If hardly obscure, he nonetheless assimilated fully into the part. Throughout that film, you were aware of its stars. Florence Pugh and Emily Blunt doing their best with under-written female characters. Robert Downey Jr trying to pretend he hadn’t spent a decade as Iron Man.

Murphy, by contrast, split the acting atom. He vanished into Oppenheimer with a performance that exuded humility and sincerity. Bookies have now installed him as a favourite for the Best Actor Oscar. If he wins, it would be a victory for knowing who you are and what you stand for and believing good work has value beyond short-term acclaim. Above all, his success shows that it is possible to stay grounded while scaling Hollywood’s giddiest heights.'

[talonabraxas]

The Caduceus

Hermes, personifying the dual powers of the Secret Wisdom, carries in his right hand a powerful symbol which represents the breathing in and breathing out of the cosmos and unites all the dual aspects of manifested existence. The caduceus of Hermes was said to have been given him by Apollo. It is a wand with two serpents twined round it, surmounted by two wings. The ancient Greeks believed it to exercise influence over the living and the dead, bestow wealth and prosperity, and turn everything it touched into gold. They called it Kerykeion, 'herald's wand' – it was the emblem of heralds and ambassadors, giving them power and inviolability. While the rod represents power, the serpents symbolize wisdom.

The wings of the caduceus symbolize the 'winged radiance' of those who have achieved the dynamic equilibrium of the two lobes of the medulla, the petals of the third-eye chakra, as well as the lightning speed of Hermes as Messenger of the Gods. Like the twining serpents, Hermes is known as the equilibrator, balancing the pairs of opposites, inspiring the alchemist's belief that without him neither Isis nor Osiris could accomplish the Great Work. The caduceus also symbolizes the fall of spirit into matter from the archetypal world to the creative and formative worlds and finally to the material world. Thus it essentially represents the astral light, the means through which Hermes wields his great power of transformation. The astral light is variously described as an "ambient and all-penetrating fluid . . . a ray detached from the (Spiritual) Sun's splendour," – the girdle of Isis that twines around two poles, and the winged dragon of Medea as well as the double serpent of the caduceus. It is the vehicle of life, representing time and eternity: the tempter and the redeemer. The wings of the caduceus signify the spiritual transcendence of time and temptation.

The rod of the caduceus is called a 'laya rod,' a central staff surrounded by the positive and negative energy of the serpents. It is the neutral Sushumna, the channel of the Sun's One Ray. All wands and staffs of power derive from this idea, just as the guiding power of Hermes is reflected in the prayer to the Christos which promises, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil; for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." The magician's wand, the 'baton de commandement' of ancient cave-paintings, and the lightning rod, are all aspects symbolic of a principle of controlled power.

On the western pediment of the Temple of Artemis at Corfu is a gorgon figure flanked by two lions. She stands in a 'pinwheel stance' which conveys movement without locomotion. Around her waist are coiled two serpents, entwined at the front, their heads arching back to face one another at her bodice. She is a guardian warding off evil and protecting the goddess within. As such, this stone figure represents protection through balanced duality. For the Great Serpent in the Garden of Eden and the 'Lord God' are one. Or, as the ancients taught, "Demon est Deus Inversus."

Agathodaemon and Kakodaemon are offshoots from the same tree of being, and evil is a force which is antagonistic but essential to good, giving it vitality and existence. These two entwined serpents, symbolizing the astral light which is not only the vehicle of life but the auxiliary of good and evil, reflect that matrix which ever seeks equilibrium. As long as nature remains 'untamed,' the opposition of the two forces (quicksilver and sulphur) manifests in a destructive mode. Hermes (Mercury) introduces the equilibrating element. The Hebrews called the astral light OD-OB-AOUR or 'Great Agent of Life.' The magnetism directed by the active will represented the right-hand serpent of the caduceus or OD. The left-hand serpent symbolized the passive OB. The golden globe at the summit of the rod was AOUR or 'equilibrating light,' the neutral point. The secret of magnetism could be mastered through ruling the fatality of OB with the intelligent power of OD, thereby gaining the perfect equilibrium of AOUR.

The solar and lunar spirals describe forces unfolding outward and simultaneously turning inward. They represent the expanding and contracting forces of nature, the alternating yin and yang, the two halves of the world egg as well as of the brain. A continuous oscillation between the two serpents accompanies the involution and evolution of spirit. The involution of spirit into matter is a progressive downward cycling, the 'sliding down of Aeons' of the Alexandrian Gnostics. The 'Downfall of Pleroma' (Gods and Devas) is allegorized as 'the desire to learn and acquire knowledge.' The seven 'rectors' break through the 'seven circles of fire.' These are the seven Devas who were born to act in space and time, to break through the seven circles of the super-spiritual planes into the phenomenal world. Allegorically, they rebelled against God.

In the nineteenth century 'primitive matter' was thought to have been formed by the act of a 'generative force' throwing off atoms endowed with varying forms of energy. It was believed by some that lowering temperatures and electricity within the 'original protyle' conferred upon newly-born elements their particular atomicity. Sir William Crookes, an intuitive chemist, pointed out that double spirals describe the process by which the elements originate. Such a figure would comprise three simultaneous oscillating motions, each at right angles to the other. Projecting this figure in space, curves describe loci where various chemical elements form within one cycle of oscillation. In the next cycle, conditions of temperature and time would have changed and the atomic groupings would be lineal descendants of the first group; and so the process would continue. Projected in space, the curve shows a central neutral line relating to electrical and chemical properties, with a positive spiral on the north, a negative on the south. This strongly echoes the metaphysics embodied in the caduceus. Though limited to material genesis, scientists have suggested that eventually matter would be reabsorbed into 'the point neutral as to electricity' or the 'zero point' analogous to the neutral globe at the summit of the caduceus rod – what The Secret Doctrine terms the "Inter-etheric point" upon which the universe revolves, a laya point, "which hiding place can be traced in the world of matter." Rotating neutral centers fixed by Fohat carry the full load of accumulated atoms from the start, and remain balanced.

The Divine Pyrnander teaches that "the Gods distinguished the Nature full of Seeds. And when all things were interminated and unmade up, the light things were divided on high and the heavy things were founded upon the moist Sand." When things were formed, they were sustained by Spirit and "Heaven was seen in Seven Circles . . . The Gods were seen in their Ideas of the Stars . . . and the Sphere was lined with air, carried about in a circular motion by the Spirit of God." Similarly, in modern astronomy, scientists speak of whirling gases made up of light hydrogen atoms evolving into heavier elements by 'spontaneous synthesis.' This cosmo-chemical process is described as unfolding in the same oscillating, caduceus-like pattern. Hydrogen atoms, the first of the series, are able to bind and to release a second electron, and in the absorption and emission of the necessary small amount of energy, all the wavelengths of the hydrogen spectrum are evolved. Since all further color distinctions are due to similar atomic and electro-magnetic variants, it would seem to follow that the potential for subsequent evolution exists at the earliest point. The unfolding spectrum can be related to the serpentine oscillation producing the original elements. In the language of the ancients, the Seven Devas break through spiritual planes into the phenomenal realms. Spirit involves into matter, its manifested spectrums circling down in series through the astral matrix.

These dual forces conjoin at the center of the seven-fold nature of man. The full force of the conjunction of the lunar and the solar serpents is uniquely experienced in human nature, and the perfected man who has balanced these universal forces is, like Hermes, a God of the Crossroads and a Mediator between Two Worlds. At the point of intersection between the macrocosm and the microcosm stands man. This is 'the cave of the heart,' the battleground of the dual forces of life. The vertical axis is the road of descending and ascending power. The horizontal axis is the manifestation of this in the world. Strong interaction of the contrasting forces along the two axes produces a spiralling motion that is the basis for identifying the aspiring disciple with the uncoiling serpent, and the perfected men of all ages as Nagas or Dragons of Wisdom.

Through his sacrifice the Serpent-Saviour initiates a new winding on the spiral of the next dimension, marking the beginning of a New Age. He is like The Redeemer on the cross. Through him man pulls himself up at the moment of death into the lunar foundations of the next world. The Adept who touches the earth like the serpent's tail sacrifices his life to lift up the whole in his journey back to his Spiritual Seat. He is the Spiralled Serpent of the Tree of Life.

The trunk of the Asvatta tree grows from heaven and descends at every Beginning from the two dark wings of the Swan of Life. The two Serpents, the ever-living and its illusion (spirit and matter) whose two heads grow from the one head between the wings, descend along the trunk, interlacing in close embrace. The two tails join on earth (the manifested universe) into one, and this is the great illusion.

Ophios and Ophiomorphos, Apollo and Python, Osiris and Typhon, Christos and the Serpent, are all convertible terms, all Logoi. "One is unintelligible without the other." They are spiritual saviours and physical regenerators; the former ensure immortality for the Divine Spirit and the latter give it through regeneration of the seed. The serpent or saviour has to die because he reveals the secret of the Immortal Ego.

Human consciousness is related to the balancing and flow of subtle energy currents. The Sakti of Siva actively revolves around the Siva lingham, the neutral rod of the caduceus. The lotus centers in the body are pierced by the Sakti energy passing into progressively finer vibrations. The Buddha termed this 'the untying of all the knots in the inverse order.' Man approaches the Divine through spiral stages of initiation. Apollonius of Tyana spoke of the Second Hour when "by the duad, the zodiacal fish chant the praises of God; the fiery serpents entwine about the caduceus and the thunder becomes harmonious." This is one of twelve zodiacal steps of successive initiation, another being to study the balanced forces in nature and learn how harmony results from the analogy of contraries, "to know the Great Magical Agent and two-fold polarization of universal light."

The Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus bears the following inscription "The power is vigorous if it be changed into earth . . . Ascend with the greatest sagacity from earth to heaven, and then again descend to earth, and unite together the power of things superior with things inferior." Such is the practice of theurgy which involves communication with, and bringing down to earth, planetary spirits and angels. Total purity of mind, heart and body is needed to perform this sublime magic. In the school of Iamblichus, priests who evoked gods during the Mysteries were Hierophants. Like the Brahman Grihasta, the Theurgist liberated his own astral body, which then took on the form of the God and served as a medium through which the "special current preserving ideas and knowledge of that God could be reached and manifested." Through theurgy, the initiated disciple ascends the spiral to communicate with the Augoeides rendered visible through the medium of his astral body.

The magic of theurgy and the art of healing are alike based upon the principle of establishing an equilibrium of forces. Because human nature denotes the polarity of spirit and matter, a struggle between the two manifests. Since the centripetal and centrifugal forces are interdependent, if the action of one is obstructed, the action of the other will immediately become self-destructive. There must be a restoration of equilibrium so that the currents of life can perform their proper function in the body. The Navajo medicine man carefully delineates a design in colored sand which precisely combines the correct elements of color, symbol, direction and balance. In the center of this mandala the patient will remain seated throughout the lengthy chanting which, together with the sand-painting, will evoke the contrasting forces in nature necessary to re-establish the proper equilibrium in the patient.

The knowledge needed to heal oneself is the same as that needed to ascend the spiral of initiation into the still center of the Higher Self. The great shadow of the astral light ever deludes man and the shadow-serpent entwined around him obscures his vision. Let man mark that serpent well and understand its essential force while turning his mind ever upward toward the Spiritual Sun. The ardent disciple strives to realize Siva through the balanced forces of his whole nature, thus embodying every aspect of the golden caduceus. This is the natural potential of man. The perfect balance achieved, the soul soars upward on radiant wings.

Tree of Life as the Caduceus of Mercury. Each number corresponds to a planet/god e.g. 8 is Mercury, 7 is Venus etc.

The serpents represent the Ida and Pingala nadis, while the shaft/wand is Sushumna.

Image from “The Book of Thoth” by Aleister Crowley (1944).

[corner-stories]

the tenderness that follows

Armin Arlert. Annie Leonhardt. Beds. Bathtubs. Neck Kisses. Post-Canon. 703 words. (ao3.)

In the midst of the night a bed in Historia’s palace creaks. Annie’s hands plant themselves on Armin’s back, her fingernails digging into his skin as his lips find a spot on her neck, pressing fervent kisses just underneath her ear. Their world is mostly quiet, save for the groans that escape them with every thrust. They yearn for one another through touch, through contact, slowly building a rhythm together until they are both able to reach their peak. 

Then when it’s over Armin rests his face in the crook of her neck, letting out a mix of exhausted pants and humored chuckles, all while Annie enjoys the sensation of his weight on top of her. 

After a moment she shifts, guiding him until he’s on his back so she can rest her head on his shoulder. Their breathing comes down, the mutual tension inside them having finally been released, a layer of sweat present on them both. It feels too early in the night to fall asleep, yet Annie allows herself to close her eyes, reveling in the tenderness that follows and the feeling of Armin’s hand gently rubbing circles on her skin. 

She’s not sure how much time passes until she finds the energy to get up. She pecks Armin’s lips, a gesture that is brief and loving, then leaves his embrace. She brings some of the silk bedding with her, cloaking herself in the material she had been complaining about the second the Ambassadors arrived at the palace. At this point she couldn’t care less about the unfamiliar texture on her skin. She can practically feel Armin’s gaze on her, a presence that lingers as she walks barefoot to the bathroom and begins running a bath. 

…

…

…

Annie sits in a rather large tub. The vessel is roomy yet she has her knees pulled up to her chest, as she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to taking up so much space. The water is hot and heavenly, the bubbles on top only adding to the sense of luxury already imbued into the atmosphere. The lighting in the bathroom is golden, an aspect that adds to the warmth of the bath in the most delightful way.

But despite being surrounded by utter extravagance, Annie finds that the most soothing thing in her vicinity has less to do with the endless opulence of the space and more to do with Armin.

His hands are gentle as he massages shampoo into her hair, taking extra care to both trust the process and make sure the job gets done. In a lifestyle filled with peace talks, boardroom meetings, and traveling across the globe for said talks and meetings, both he and Annie rarely have the time to unwind — let alone in a bathtub literally built for a queen. 

“Do you think we could do this more often?” Annie asks. In her palm she holds a handful of foam that weighs nothing, playfully blowing on it like a child. 

She watches the bubbles fall back onto the water before hearing Armin chuckle behind her. She feels his lips pressing against her shoulder.

“That depends,” he begins, then another kiss follows, this time closer to her neck. “Are you thinking of dragging a tub this size across the world?” 

As to be expected Annie doesn’t laugh, but she does hum, and over the last few years Armin seems to be catching on to how that’s as close to a laugh as she’ll ever get. Probably. 

“Fair enough.” 

She shifts a bit to help Armin rinse the shampoo out of her hair, letting him scoop up handfuls of water until the strands are free of suds. Once it’s all clean Annie lets out a sigh of relief. She leans back until she meets Armin’s torso, the water moving as she does so. She gets into a position to rest against him, and judging by the additional kiss — this time on her cheek — she guesses that he’s enjoying it too. 

Their lives have been fairly strange lately, but it’s moments like this — pieces of time where they are bathed in the comfort of each other — that make some of the harder spots feel worth it in the end. 

[world-of-celebs]

Emilia Clarke attends the HFPA And THR Golden Globe ambassador party at Catch LA on November 14, 2019 in West Hollywood, California. 

[httpknjoon]

drama, drama, drama | ksj

plot | Being the two of the biggest celebrities in Hollywood, rumors are always unavoidable. Eyes and cameras were always pointed at you and everything you will do can be used to form some new type of ✨drama✨.

words | 2605

genres | humor/crack, tiny angst, tiny fluff, actors!au

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

note | usernames used in the fic are all fictional. set in the last months of 2022 to 2023. the series is coming to an end! I'm actually surprised y'all voted for drama in the poll haha. this is basically the summary of all the big events that happened between the a-listers from the last months of 2022 to 2023. let me know your thoughts! enjoy reading.

main masterlist | drabble series

@/YNUpdates: Y/N receives her third BAFTA nomination for From The Other Side.

Grand award season began in November. A lot of acting nominations were being released to the public. It includes nominations for prestigious acting awards such as Academy Awards, British Academy Film Awards, and the Golden Globe Awards. Due to your great performance in your co-produced film, From The Other Side, you were nominated for Best Actress in countless award ceremonies, alongside other big actresses of 2022 such as Michelle Yeoh, Cate Blanchett, and Viola Davis. You were the youngest nominee for the Best Actress category.

@/loveyn: y/n getting the recognition she deserves <3

@/francheskatpurrs: can’t wait for her red carpet looks!

replying to @/francheskatpurrs:

- @/girlslikewho: i just know she will serve

You posted an Instagram Story on your account. After the announcement of nominees for the Academy Awards, you updated your fans with a picture of you in a fuzzy purple cardigan, tucked in your jeans. You were happily holding a big bouquet of flowers in what seemed like your spacious backyard. You didn’t caption it with anything, just four white emojis.

@/mintchoco: i’m crying the drought is over we’re getting a whole body pic now

@/sendmylove: y/n looking gorg in the simplest fit

@/l0nelyppl:  omg is she finally coming back?????

@/sunshineyn: babe wake up y/n posted new photos

Your fans were delighted to see you doing well during your hiatus. For months since your break, you were just teasing them with goofy selfies and Francheskat pictures. But now that you posted a new picture, they are filled with excitement and hope that you will be back attending public events again. Including the award ceremonies for 2023.

As usual, talks about your personal life are always present. Particularly, your love life since your always-rumored lover was then spotted out with a model a couple of times  No matter how long you stay private during your break, your face still managed to be on the covers of lousy gossip magazines. You don’t waste your time reading or even touching those. But you still come across them through social media. 

For fans, there are commonly two types of them. One who always believes in every good and bad article they see. And there’s the other who can read between the lines of these articles and fact-check to see if they are reading a piece of true news or just some dumb gossip. Still, they cannot help but to react every report that may concern you or Jin. So, when a certain article with photos dropped on the last week of November.

Lee Sung Kyung and Jeong Joon Hyung Step Out in Italy for Dinner

The glamorous models were seen kissing during dinner in Italy a month after the Chanel ambassador sparked dating rumors with actor JIN.

@/PopCrave: Lee Sung Kyung posted selfies with her boyfriend, Jeong Joon Hyung on her Instagram.

@/jinhourly: I KNEW IT

@/hubbyseokjinnie: y’all threw jin under the bus when lsk is really just his friend

Your shared fandom with Jin took that news as a sign that such a crazy season won’t happen again. It was like a rainbow after months of rain. Their hope heightens even though they don’t really get much content from you two. 

Then, December came. People waited if you were going to post something for Jin’s birthday as you accidentally made it a tradition. Last year, you didn’t post something but later revealed that you two were together in Seoul. And now that more chaotic things happened, everyone is waiting if you’re gonna do something.  Then, just in the last hour of the particular day, you finally shared something.

@/PopCrave: Today, Y/N posted a picture of her cat, Francheskat wearing a little party hat. With the caption, “party cat”. 

It wasn’t much but your fans ate it up. They were happy just by that image. You didn’t tag the birthday boy himself, Jin, or even Since your comments were turned off, your friend didn’t get a chance to express themselves in your post. 

@/rareyn: omg she continued the tradition 

@/JINYN: i’ll take this as a win 😌😌

@/miamorjin: y’all should check donny’s stories on ig rn

Your common friend, Donny, posted what seemed to be a soundless clip in his Instagram story. The camera was zooming in on Jin who was falling asleep as he sat on a sofa. His head slowly turned down as he swayed mindlessly, seemingly falling asleep. The clip ended when an arm reached for him. Happy birthday, bro! Donny captioned on the top center of the video. On the bottom right, he left a little note: get more sleep, sleepyhead 😴🐻

It was a cute video and birthday greeting. But something else caught the attention of everyone.

@/bluemoon04: that floral wallpaper in the background iykyk 😉😉😉😉

@/gingerly3848523: that’s yn, right? that’s her!

Replying to @/gingerly3848523

- @/C0RNELIA: i think so bc that sleeve!!!!

@/ynjinhearts: bro prolly muted the clip to hide any noise then that purple cardigan gave it away 😭😭

Aaron Taylor-Johnson Replaces JIN in the upcoming film, Fade Into You

The actor left due to scheduling conflicts

A24’s Fade Into You movie now has Aaron Taylor-Johnson co-star with Zendaya. Taylor-Johnson replaced Jin two months after the latter was confirmed to be cast in the said movie. His publicist explained that ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ actor left due to scheduling conflicts.

Just in the last year of October, JIN confirmed to star in two movie productions. The first was Fade Into You and the second was Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s directorial debut movie which remained untitled for now. It is still unknown if the actor will still pursue the latter.

This romance-drama film would have been Jin’s first movie project for 2023. It is expected to start production in February. The announcement was a surprise as it was already reported that the actor already flew to San Francisco, California to film. Just a day before announcing his sudden exit.

Nonetheless, director Kathryn Williams cleared out any upcoming rumors by sharing a statement. Which, she states: 

Our lead actor, Jin, was respectful and kind enough to apologize personally to everyone on the crew for the hassle. He had his reasons and we understood it. We don’t tolerate any sort of rumors being made. That so, we wished Jin well in his future endeavors. Also, we are happy and thrilled to welcome Aaron Taylor-Johnson to our project.

The new year of 2023 just came and three days into the said year, articles about Jin leaving a project headlined the showbiz news. Admittedly, his fans were surprised. But on the other side of the coin, your shared supporters with him were all taken back to the happening from the prior year. It was like grey skies were starting to form and tower over their heads again.

@/zendayafp: would have been fun to see z and jin together for a project 🙁

Replying to @/zendayafp

- @/seokjinroyalty:  i wish they would get to work soon!! 

@/cinderellastreet: oh god i think i’m getting flashbacks

@/ynjinly: if you survived this fandom last year, you’ll be fine xx

@/loveynjin: then next thing u know he’ll be posting cat pics for the next months

Replying to @/loveynjin

- @/idkanym0re: HE DON’T EVEN LIKE CATS 💀💀💀

– @/SEOKJINSKIM: he’ll probably post francheskat too 🤡

Awarding season came. Much to your fans’ dismay, you haven’t attended any award shows from January to February. You snatched a few awards from different award shows, including BAFTA around the third week of February. Your movie director accepted it for you and read the short speech you sent her through text message.

Emerald stood in front of the mic, holding your award as her other hand scrolled through her phone screen, “I would like to thank the British Academy for this award. It was an honor to be nominated next to these amazing actresses. These ladies and their works were all amazing and wonderful. And to our lovely director, Emerald Fennel, thank you for trusting me with your art. You are brilliant and a sister to me. I love you with all of my heart. Thank you to everyone who worked hard in making the film oh-so-beautiful…. Em, I don’t know why you’re making me send you an acceptance speech two hours before the ceremony… It makes me feel delusional, honestly. LOL… Anyway… Whatever the result is, tell Brendan Fraser I love him ever since I watched him when I was five.”

The camera panned to the actor, who smiled and placed a hand on his chest before mouthing thank you. Your fans congratulate you through Twitter and silently hoped you will post something on Instagram since you’ve been pretty inactive again. Your last update was during Valentine’s day. Where you posted a picture of a picnic basket on green grass.

@/YNUpdates: Y/N won her first Best Actress from BAFTA, sixteen years after winning best supporting actress from the British Academy.

But Jin did an update on his Instagram before February ends, which was somehow rare since he normally just reposts pictures and stories his friends tagged him in. But just days after BAFTA, he posted a certain photo that might have caused a ruckus online.

@/loveynjin: I KNEW IT

@/ME0WFRNCHSKT: omg is he catsitting her

@/JINUpdates: Jin posted a new Instagram story with Francheskat. [insert photos]

It was a selfie of Jin holding Francheskat, who was happier than the pictures you share online. He captioned: with my best friend 😺

The last prestigious award shows that your fans are wishing you will make an appearance at is the Oscars. And it happened in March. Almost forty-five minutes into the red carpet event, a lot of celebrities had already arrived in their glamorous gowns and suits. Your fans are starting to lose hope when you posted through your social media account…

haha this is fun, you captioned.

It was a thirty-second black and white clip of you playing the piano. Ironically, you were playing Kitty Kallen’s old jazz song, It’s Been A Long Long Time. You were obviously at home, wearing a large sweatshirt with a claw clip on your hair to keep them together.

@/YNUpdates: Y/N confirms absence at the Oscars as she posted a new clip on Instagram.

You didn’t win the award but your fans still poured you with congratulatory messages. Due to Jin’s last post, they were still confused about the relationship between you two. Some just accepted the fact that you and Jin are maybe just friends or you will never confirm anything.

On the other hand, the media managed to create more rumors even though both you and Jin never went out in the public separately or together. You still haven’t done anything that might allude to your comeback and Jin… there are murmurs going around the fandom that he will probably leave his other project with Phoebe Waller-Bridge as the said film is not having any process. His last public appearance was sometime in May. It was an event for the debut of his new series on HBO. He made an appearance on the red carpet but was seen to leave earlier than others. He didn’t go to the after-party with his co-stars.

Rumors about you usually revolve around your possible romantic relationships, pregnancy, or anything that they will notice about your body or face. And now, with the press collecting every information they can get about you and Jin. You have something new to add to your list of gossip.

Hollywood A-Listers: YN and JIN rumored to be back together?

After months of rumored breakup, YN and Jin are allegedly back together. Various sources have shared their reasons to believe so.

“He has been trying to get her back after the whole chaos with Sungkyung.” a source claims. 

Last October 2022, Jin was spotted on a couple of dates with model Lee Sungkyung during New York Fashion Week. The two later denied the romantic relationship going on between them through a shared statement by their publicists. They claim:

“Due to the number of malicious comments and articles the two celebrities have been getting, we would like to publicize that JIN and Sung Kyung are only friends. They have known each other since childhood as JIN spent his early years back in Seoul, South Korea, where he met Sung Kyung as his kindergarten classmate.”

The Chanel ambassador was later revealed to be in a relationship with another model, Jeong Joon Hyung. The attention was all panned back to JIN and YN as fans hoped for an update between the two. 

A source that is close to the actress tipped, “YN has been really away from everyone she knows for a while. It was like she is isolating herself. She is focusing more on her wellbeing than surrounding herself with people she learned that used her for their own advantage.”

YN was on hiatus for any activities since March 2022. Still, the actress welcomed the year with success as she received awards and nominations for her performance in last year’s critical-acclaimed, From The Other Side. 

“Jin wanted to focus on improving his relationship with YN. That’s why he recently left a good project. She made him choose between her and his career.”

Insiders claimed that due to the events last year, YN was allegedly having trust issues with the actor. Although the two had been very lowkey with their rumored relationship, fans have pointed out that the a-listers have set their eyes on each other since the filming of their first movie, Cornelia Street. The rumors build up over the years and it includes YN and Jin moving in together in a house somewhere in Connecticut just before the 2020 pandemic strikes. None of these were ever confirmed. 

E!News has reached out to YN’s and JIN’s reps for comment.

The articles all used the same “pieces of evidence” to prove their claim. The Instagram stories, Jin’s leave in Fade Into You, and more paparazzi photos of him since they cannot really get photos of you since paparazzi assume you are always at home back in California. Surprisingly, the fans didn’t make a big buzz about it as they were already connecting the dots since your hiatus.

@/jamaisvu: atp the press are stealing our theories 🤨

@/ynthecatlady: can we copyright @/bluemoon04’s thread of proofs??? jkjk

The articles all used the same “pieces of evidence” to prove their claim. The Instagram stories, Jin’s leave in Fade Into You, and more paparazzi photos of him since they cannot really get photos of you since paparazzi assume you are always at home back in California. Surprisingly, the fans didn’t make a big buzz about it as they were already connecting the dots since your hiatus.

@/jamaisvu: atp the press are stealing our theories 🤨

@/ynthecatlady: can we copyright @/bluemoon04’s thread of proofs??? jkjk

Just a few days later, after the getting-back-together articles floated over the waters of the internet, one of the past guest appearances you did with Jin during promotions for Maybe Yes, Maybe No earned attention. Someone posted an excerpt of the video where you and Jin play burning question with Ellen.

Ellen’s voice was heard as the camera focused on you and Jin sitting next to each other with buzzers in front of you two, “Finish the phrase “the way to my heart is…..”

“Is… through loving my cat as much as they love me,” you answered first, making the audience react with a soft aww.

Jin then replied, “Is through kindness and generosity… not just to me but to everyone in their surroundings.”

“On a scale of 1-10, how good are you at keeping secrets?” the host asked almost immediately after you two buzzed.

“Nine,” Jin replied.

“Ten. We’re actors. We lie for a living!” you exclaimed, making everyone in the studio laugh.

You two pressed the buzzers again. And now, to the part that made this whole clip viral on the internet again:

“Do you believe in second chances?”

Your leading man nods, “Yeah.”

“I… don’t know,” you replied, seemingly unsure as you pursed your lips. “For now, maybe no.”

a/n: asks are open for questions and bets!!

taglist rules

THE A-LISTERS TAGLIST

@jub-jub @yoontaethings @kissme-ornot @sleepy-daydreams @veronawrites @cuteipat @ratherbefangirling @babystarcandy-gcf @akirawhore @alpacaparkaseok @rjsmochii @lovesickbangtan @rapmonie2047 @btsiguess-kpop @angelarin @walkinganxiety0 @bloopkook @yoooonie @amara-mars @firesighgirl @zwiehe @hiii-priestess @lojocas @juju-227592 @singukieee @eshtravagent @canarystwin @petalsofink

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd​ @cixrosie​ @jksjx​ @embrace-themagic​ @buttvi​ @starbtslove​ @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @pixybear @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes

[livesunique]

Ms Luigia "Gina" Lollobrigida OMRI (4 July 1927 – 16 January 2023)

Destined to be called "The Most Beautiful Woman in the World", Ms Lollobrigida was the daughter of a furniture manufacturer, and grew up in the pictorial mountain village. She studied sculpture at Rome’s Academy of Fine Arts, and started her career with minor Italian film roles before coming third in 1947’s Miss Italia pageant. 

After refusing a contract with Howard Hughes to make three pictures in the United States in 1950, Ms Lollobrigida gained for starring turns in 1952’s “Fanfan la Tulipe” and 1953’s “Bread, Love and Dreams,” the latter of which netted her a BAFTA nomination for Best Foreign Actress.

Ms Lollobrigida’s first American film was “Beat the Devil,” a 1953 adventure comedy directed by John Huston that cast her opposite Humphrey Bogart. Over the course of the ’50s and ’60s, she starred in numerous French, Italian and European-shot American productions, with highlights including “Trapeze” with Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis, “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” as Esmerelda, “Solomon and Sheba” with Yul Brynner, “Never So Flew” with Frank Sinatra and Steve McQueen, “Come September” with Rock Hudson, and “Woman of Straw” with Sean Connery, and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell,” with Shelley Winters.

Her roles made her a major sex symbol of Italian cinema; in 1953, she won Italy’s David di Donatello award for Best Actress for her performance in the opera star Lina Cavalieri’s biopic “Beautiful But Dangerous,” known in Italian as “The World’s Most Beautiful Woman.” 

She later won two more David di Donatello Award for “Imperial Venus” and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell,” a Golden Medal of the City of Rome in 1986, a 40th Anniversary David in 1996 and a 50th Anniversary David in 2006. In 1961, she won the Golden Globes’ Henrietta Award for “World Fan Favorite,” and received nominations for “Falcon Crest” and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell.”

After the ’60s, Lollobrigida’s career began to slow down, but she continued to act intermittently, including in the 1995 Agnes Varda film “Les cent et une nuits de Simon Cinéma,” and in ’80s TV shows such as CBS’ “Falcon Crest” and ABC’s “The Love Boat.” 

Ms Lollobrigida also developed a successful second career in photojournalism during the ’80s. She obtained an exclusive interview with Cuban leader Fidel Castro and also photographed many famous film stars, as well as publishing a number of books of her photographs.

In 2011 she made her final film appearance, playing herself in a cameo for the Italian parody film “Box Office 3D: The Filmest of Films.”

The screen legend sale of some of her 23 jewels from her Bulgari  collection at Sotheby’s in 2013 to help fund an international hospital for stem-cell research. 

On 16 October 1999, Lollobrigida was nominated as a Goodwill Ambassador of the UN Food and Agriculture Organization

Ms  Lollobrigida won the Berlinale Camera at the Berlin Film Festival in 1986, Karlovy Vary Film Festival special prize in 1995, and the Rome Festival’s career prize in 2008. In 2018, she received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Ciao, Gina, Riposa in Pace

(Armando Pietrangeli, “Light and Shadow,” Gina Lollobrigida,1960, Trapeze 1956, Woman Of Rome,1954, Salomon & Sheba,1959, Come September, 1961,Un Bellissimo Novembre,1968, The Hunchback of Notre Dame,1956, In London to publicise her book of photographs titled Italia Mia,1974, Fidel Castro shot by Ms Lollobrigida,1974, Gina Lollobrigida pictured on July 11, 2022 in Rome).

[graceandfamily]

Gregory Peck standing between Grace Kelly and Jean Simmons at the 10th annual Golden Globe Awards held at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles. Grace Kelly won the Henrietta Award and Jean Simmons won for best performance by an actress in a leading role in a comedy or musical. Related to Los Angeles Times article, "Grace Kelly and Brando Win Golden Globe Awards." Los Angeles Times, 24 Feb. 1956

[fancyschmancyopinions]

ANYA TAYLOR JOY at the 80th Annual Golden Globes on January 10th 2023 wearing CHRISTIAN DIOR

Anya always impresses me on the red carpet. She always choses such gorgeous and beautiful looks, and they always look amazing on her.

I loved the simplicity of this look. The silhouette was a bit basic, but the yellow color really elevated the look. It was a great shade for Anya’s fair skin and platinum hair. A simple but beautiful look for Anya.

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

Ewan McGregor Honoured with Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame 🤩

Ewan McGregor, who has played the legendary Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi for 25 years, was celebrated by friends and family on Thursday morning at the unveiling of his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, from the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce - who administer the attraction that draws over 10 million visitors a year. situated just a few feet away from the star honouring the late Carrie Fisher (Princess Leia in Star Wars 1977; later called Star Wars: A New Hope)

Ewan McGregor on 12th September, 2024. /photo FRAZER HARRISON/GETTY

Since being catapulted to fame in the Danny Boyle films Shallow Grave and Trainspotting, McGregor has appeared in a string of box office hits including Moulin Rouge, Black Hawk Down, Big Fish, Doctor Sleep, Salmon Fishing In Yemen and He has also starred in Fargo.

McGregor was 26 years old when he first played Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. A fan of Star Wars since childhood, McGregor recounts fond memories of watching the original trilogy of films with his brother. His enthusiasm for becoming part of the galaxy far, far away has never faded in the years since, and he most recently reprised the role in the 2022 six-part series Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Star Wars co-star Hayden Christensen ( best known for his portrayal of Anakin Skywalker / Darth Vader in the Star Wars media franchise) joined Ewan McGregor on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. | Getty Image

McGregor first played Obi-Wan in the three prequel Star Wars films from George Lucas that also included Hayden Christiansen

The Trainspotting actor gets up close and personal with the star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame | Frazer Harrison/Getty Images

Filmmaker Mike Mills, who directed McGregor in the 2011 film 'Beginners' was also at the ceremony. | Getty Images

Film producer Jerry Bruckheimer joins Ewan McGregor on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. He produced 'Black Hawk Down' in which McGregor starred. | Frazer Harrison/Getty Images

McGregor with the plaque in recognition of the honour of receiving a star on the famous Hollywood street. | Frazer Harrison/Getty Images

McGregor serves as a Goodwill Ambassador for UNICEF UK, a non-profit organization dedicated to providing long-term humanitarian and developmental assistance to children and mothers in developing countries.

He was made an OBE in 2013 for services to drama and charity and has won an Emmy Award, a Golden Globe, and Critics’ Choice Awards, and the Star Wars prequels, in which he took on the iconic role of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

EwanMcGregor #Honoured #Hollywood #actor #StarontheWalkofFame #Obi-WanKenobi # star #HaydenChristensen # AnakinSkywalker #Darth Vader #Trainspotting #StarWars

Posted 13th September 2024

[antics-pedantic]

RALLY CO. #12: THE FALSE THUNDERER LIVES!, PART 2

Last time, on Rally Co.

          The Golden Shadow—Othulok, has unleashed the remnants of an ancient weapon upon the globe: The skull of an artificial giant, created by alchemy to defy even the gods themselves. The False Thunderer.

          Rally Co. has been defeated once by his dread power. This is their last stand…

X

            Once, there was an age known only in the nightmares of the ancients. When the upstart Atlantis expanded, the Earth’s ultimate empire. One that took the secrets of magic and miracle machines advanced before they were ready to be properly wielded. Only powers deemed those of the very deities of the world brought a halt to the conquest—lightning from the celestial heavens to do away with doomsday devices, favor and fortune unto the lands that offered resistance.

          This was the era that The Wrap lived in. At a time when he was not an undead thing, wrapped in his mystical bandages. This was the time when he knew the crime lord called the Golden Shadow, when he was merely the court magician Othulok. And Wrap was an adolescent, with aspirations aplenty, in the realm of politics.

For a while the empire of Atlantis receded, its outposts still littered the world. Some adopting isolation, be it for want of stability, self-serving pity-guilts, or from doubling down upon heinous xenophobia. But others knew that they still held the means to provide repatriation: All that they took, they could return. All that was once theirs, their wealth, their knowledge, shared instead of hoarded. And then their songs could be sung once more, the amusements to follow.

The Warmaker Todan—Wrap’s older sibling, had no more wars to make, no challenge to his brains or sinews that lay in wait under a russet complexion. For that he was lost at first, but would busy himself with crafts. Their eldest, Sister Muigara, sat on the throne after the passing of their parents and mostly operated as an ambassador to former foes of the empire. Wrap had been the middle child and could not recall his own name. And although it was not required of him, he spent the days studying the laws of the Atlanteans and eagerly awaited import of writing from other lands to compare and contrast against his own. By night and chambered lantern-flame, he drafted his works. At times accompanied by his friend Eoddo the climber—Eoddo the merrymaker, who offered the commoner’s eye to all matters. Even Todan would visit when he struggled to sleep, and marveled. And Sister Muigara would not have slept at all yet, looking forward to the day that Wrap’s works were finalized. Then he would prove himself an early successor.

“And how gloriously irritating,” Todan once said. “That you understand how best to crush the conflict within the hearts of we mortals. And my talent will have no place. You would leave your brother destitute?—”

The name was static to his ears. But still, the younger, more human Wrap smiled.

“There will always be some conflict of interests. The warmaker will simply have to bide his time better.”

“Perhaps.” said Eoddo, nursing both wineskin and hollowed gourd. “We might take up wooden swords as the smallest children do, albeit with more technique. And at the tables we’ll put pieces to the map and debate the matter of journeying and challenging one another upon separate climates, rather than traveling blindly on the Over-Emperor’s will, with nary a detail spared!”

“A fantastic possibility.” said Muigara, borrowing the hollowed gourd for its contents, and hastily gulping a quarter of its contents. “But I fear there are those who will always yearn for true warfare. Othulok’s reminder.”

Todan frowned.

“Whisper his name by night, and he may spirit away our little kindred, sister. It was to that warlock’s wisdom to which we can credit father’s bloodied defeat. And perhaps to the grief that slew mother?”

“Where would we be if failure made demons of us all, brother?”

Muigara and Todan scowled at one another. Eoddo and Wrap looked to each other in that way they once did, before the elder siblings joined them some nights, and it seemed the weight of their responsibility had taken them. The process, was still gradual as this argument demonstrated.

In the afternoon of a new day, Wrap would approach the court and offer his reports in an official capacity. Othulok hovered beside Muigara’s seat, scrutinizing every word. Ready to offer his contemplations in hurried whispers and promises of fear. Warnings against trust and generosity, as it would be taken for granted by fledgling nations—which Todan struggled to deny, from the biases life in the army had impressed upon him. With which Wrap argued against most every chance he could.

“Never forget what they took from us in both the Northlands and the scorching South.” Othulok would confidently spout directly next to Muigara’s ear. “Nor the massacre they doled out to us on the isles. They still call it your father’s shame.”

“I will never forget, magician.” hissed Muigara. “Back to your place. Brother—restart your estimations on the new forums.”

But just as Wrap began to speak, he felt a terrible dryness in his throat. When he went to fill a chalice with water, he saw his face beginning to decay. Scraps of his flesh falling and poisoning the ornate pot of clean freshwater. Muigara screamed and began to torment the palace staff, Eoddo appeared to help Wrap stand—but had a violent illness about him—not unlike Wrap’s mother, and Todan was girding himself for battle again, never to return.

“You are the thorn in my side.”

Othulok. He was decaying as well, but into greater power. The sheen of his skeleton was of perfect metal, almost golden. Not a pound of flesh left, for he had given himself utterly to the necromancy. No longer a mere court magician, the vicious warlock began to pursue Wrap through a mausoleum with fewer and fewer windows, until it was a true tomb. He could see holding a torch, his mother and father, ushering him to a sarcophagus alongside their own. And for a moment there was peace. Without muscle, Othulok could not lift the great slab underneath which was the decorated casket.

But the Golden Shadow could.

The return to life was a haze after that. The chambers were smaller, and always attention had to be placed upon the warlock as he directed a new batch of barbarians, and enslaved those who thought themselves too sophisticated or intellectual with challenges of how to inflict greater misery, and dependency on the vicious salt, and other vile concoctions.

And he would join them. His drug was to be the full scope of his mind returned to his undead self. And the magic that enchanted his mummy’s bandages to protect him. Both in their durability, as well as in their ability to destroy any who endangered him. Save for Othulok himself.

“You don’t have to do this.”

He recognized the voice calling to Felix in the waking world. It was the same: A lone detective, known famously on the INTERPOL circuit, sporting a gun she purchased on her own. But it was not leveled at The Wrap. Malika Basra had discovered him after thwarting some prior assassination attempt. And she had assisted the occult detective, the former acolyte of Othulok.

Maybe she could end this nightmare.

He pleaded with her. Swore that she had to attack now, in the same way father or Todan might have insisted while the empire had not yet been completely felled. In her unfamiliarity with the situation, Malika wanted to talk. The thing that Wrap had tried a thousand times with Muigara, only to lose her to Othulok’s influence. To which he might have even considered himself Eoddo’s murderer, seeking him out after Othulok swayed Todan to fight again. Directing the False Thunderer to slay the warlock, only to siege the city and slay any intervening gods Othulok lured there.

And then Wrap remembered extending his bandages to keep Malika in place. To force her to fire on him, and then perhaps she and Solomon might have done away with the curse to eliminate him at last. But the shot missed, and the startling sound, the muzzle flash of the gun startled Wrap so terribly, his hold upon Malika was nearly a deathgrip.

He fled.

The warlock would find him again. But he fled, and hid until Othulok finally reached him. Spitting on his name, howling at him for robbing him of a meager kill, for costing him a resurgence of the Atlantean glory. But also, of Gilligan Diligent. The frivolous lumberjack who also turned out to be an assassin. Unprepared for an ambush that awaited him. Only by the Wrap’s intervention did some of the sharpshooters fall, and with a careful pull of the bandages, did the jolly fellow continue to be as such.

Perhaps even more so. For when he promised to pay Wrap back, The Wrap aided him in some of his work, and refused the majority of the payment on their illicit work.

X

          By the time Felix Basra snapped out of it, she had already fired on him. Gilligan tackled into her as he intended. But neither continued into a brawl. Nearby, Katrina Kafka had not only peered into the mind of The Wrap, but she had evidently projected it outwardly for all to see. And perhaps, to make their own judgements. Although it would not change the fact she still fired, something tore at her very spirit. And the happy-hearted Gilligan had rolled aside to lay on his back. Trying to see the sky past the destruction unfolding there and then, in the art deco metropolis of Arcadia. Georgia raced to help Felix up, while Malika knelt down to Wrap. Slowly, because of old injuries. Watching how she moved made The Wrap feel miserable.

          “She was finishing it. Once and for all.”

          Malika frowned.

          “Blazes to that, boy. She had the same fear and shame you did, when I first met you. You think that the Golden Shadow wouldn’t have sent someone else to do the job? It never ends.”

          “Then… we are doomed?”

          “No. Choose otherwise.”

          She ran a hand across his forehead, before settling on his cheek. Even the memory shared was false, Malika wasn’t certain she’d have had it in herself to harm this lad. Undead or not.

          “Auntie…”

          Felix held the revolver by the middle, the ammo cylinder prevented from moving. Thus, from firing. Malika shook her head, though.

          “There is still a fight to be had. And you must live with the weight of your actions.”

          Georgia held Felix a little closer when Felix tried to fight off a bout of tears. Katrina could feel that too, while she and Solomon held off Othulok, in the skull of the False Thunderer. As long as they were there, barely keeping the dread sorcerer at bay, Solomon could not attempt to assist The Wrap. They could barely lure Othulok into their Lostgate trap.

          Until at last, the sound of a fighter plane propeller could be heard. It was faster than any other, bearing no markings to indicate it as belonging to any nation’s military. A hail of machinegun fire to the front of the skyward cranium. Within, Othulok scoffed and directed his eldritch lightning to crush this new gnat: but it was more of a hornet, actually! The unmarked fighter plane pulled up sharply, a set of bay doors beneath the craft releasing a surprise payload: None other than the clay construct, Blockhouse!

          “Hark, brigand!!”

          It was pure relief as Katrina watched her old friend collide with the top of the False Thunderer’s skull, the force of collision allowing him to land within and clash with Othulok. The False Thunderer’s skull began to swerve out of control.

          “Katrina—the gateway!” exclaimed Solomon. “I’ll tend to The Wrap. Begin the preparations as I instructed.”

          “I’ll do my best!”

          Solomon hovered over to Katrina, to put his hands on her shoulders.

          “You always have. No matter what happens, I’m proud of you. We all are.”

          Katrina wiped at her eyes with a sleeve of her shirt, and flew off first to assemble the extra-large lostgate. It had to be large enough to catch the False Thunderer’s skull. Solomon arrived not long after to tend to The Wrap’s injury.

          “If he weren’t undead, I wouldn’t give him the odds I’ve got now.” said Solomon, running a glowing hand over the point where the bullet entered his body. “I only hope you can show this sort of aptitude for battling revenants in the future.”

          Malika shot Solomon a glare, and gestured for him to get back to work. Felix took her place next to The Wrap. Gilligan approached as well. Keeping his distance, and taking a discarded military rifle, while he watched the skies for Othulok’s return.

          “I saw what happened to your family. I’m sorry.”

          “That… was the work of Othulok.” wheezed Wrap. “Everything which Imperial Atlantis took meant more plunder for him. And I fear the legend of our society has not only spurred him, but others to try for the same.”

          He offered a bandaged hand to hold in her gloved one. Malika nodded, and Felix took it, leaning in to listen.

          “I renounced the spoils of my forefathers, as I did in life... My project was to try and undo some of the harm they had committed. So that Atlantis could become more. Not simply a place bordered… or a people exclusive. But a guiding principle for any society.”

          Felix gave his hand a little squeeze.

          “Then hang on. We could use a fella like you around.”

          The Wrap actually chuckled. Gilligan had his head turned away, but even he couldn’t help smiling. Felix had shot Wrap—but so had others. They all paid in one way or another. But few wanted to set things right. Let alone to offer him true sanctuary. Somewhat more stable than the care of one drifting hitman.

          The unmarked plane managed to get in behind the False Thunderer’s skull, firing its machineguns again. Keeping the aim tight so that the cracked cranium would swerve towards the lostgate. Katrina saw this, and attempted to gather her wits, and her psychic energy. The gate began to crackle and hum to life, as Solomon put the finishing touches on Wrap, and hurried to join Katrina.

          “I’ll go with them.”

          Gilligan whipped his head around. Georgia and Felix were helping him towards the gate.

          “You’ve had enough fun for one day, fellah. Tomorrow is a new day.”

          “We still may not see it yet.” said Wrap. “… Please. You owe me.”

          Gilligan blinked. Of all the times to really and truly cash in this favor, this had to be the worst. But Gilligan had some honor in him. So, he took Wrap onto his back, as he had done many a time with his own family in the past, and ran him to the gate. Tycho was hobbling over, with Esme running after.

          “—And I told you, you wretched little capybara, ostentatious orangutan!” exclaimed Esme, shaking a fist. “You really ought to lay down and take some painkillers!”

          “Nuts to ye, Esme! We’re this close to finally lickin’ that Golden Shadow right-good!” said Tycho, swinging his fists around, before hopping over by Felix. “Oi, Boss Lady. Looks ya seen a ghost! What’s those two killers doin’ with Katrina and Solomon?!”

          “They’re helping us.” said Georgia, extending a hand to shake Tycho’s, as well as Esme’s, taking the two by surprise. “Felix mention me at all, fellas? I’m Georgia! Her #1 gal.”

          “Just whenever she looks at the winder all longingly-like.” joked Tycho. Felix blushed for a moment, and Esme only seemed to agree.

          “Well, if one must be honest…” joked Esme. “She could have told me after our second date.”

          Georgia just nodded, and looked over at Felix, who just about looked like she’d been thrown to the Gevaudanes. But not before Georgia smirked and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

          “Malika, darling.” said Georgia. “Did you hear Tycho and Esme?”

          “Loud and clear. We shall have words later.” said Malika. This was also her way of letting Felix know that for her error, she was not hopeless. The group hurried to the sidelines, while Katrina, Solomon, and The Wrap reinforced the gateway with their psychic and magical power. Gilligan all the while, shouted at the False Thunderer’s skull. A thousand swears for the thousands of times he manipulated Wrap’s family.

          At last, the cracked cranium flew through the portal, the False Thunderer’s already broken skull chipping further against the edges of the emergency lostgate, which strained to carry the flying skull through its unstable portal. The vortex could not hold. On the otherwise, in some region of Subterranea, the False Thunderer’s skull was spinning out of control. Bashing against the armored head of something that might have evolved from the mighty triceratops, as worms camouflaged to resemble the giant stalactites from the high ceiling dropped into the cracked cranium.

          Back in Arcadia, the gateway was slowly closing. Felix and the others who took cover were emerging again. The portal was sheathed with a layer of energy as a kind of shielding. Suddenly, something emerged from the unstable vortex, pushing against the shield as if it were shrinkwrap.

          “I finally had the WORLD!” howled Othulok. “You denied me once, Callahan! And you—the wretch who whined, ‘no more victories to Atlantis!’ All of you worthless maggots! My empire would have known furious glory, and now it will be lost to the chaos of lesser lords! You’ve DAMNED OUR ENTIRE WORLD!”

          Everyone stood ready in the event Othulok could not be contained. That was when another figure emerged from the vortex: Blockhouse! He took ahold of Othulok, even as the force of the vortex threatened to vaporize them both.

          “Blockhouse, NO!” cried Katrina.

          “It’s no skin off my nose!” said Blockhouse, between the struggles of Othulok to escape. “Alas, I have neither nose nor skin to speak of… but I can, and I shall escort this devil to oblivion!”

          Katrina tried to help him, but in doing so she nearly released the shield. For a moment, Othulok’s gnarled, claw-like hands almost reached out and slashed her, until Blockhouse tossed him into the vortex. The arch of the lostgate fragmented, and Blockhouse disappeared into the unknown.

          Katrina fell to her knees. She could not help but sob and wail, telekinetic crackles in the air. It was in that instant that Felix, Esme, and Tycho all raced to hug her. She had not lost everyone, just yet. And all the rubble, all the metal parts strewn around, that she held with her psychic power, fell to the ground.

X

          Several weeks later…

          Other countries were finally starting to relax, save for those hit the hardest by Othulok’s attack, including the U.S.A. and England. France was in somewhat better condition by comparison, but it too would feel the aftershocks. Elsewhere, the dictatorship of Arkavalia had little harm—its rulers attributing this to a nationalist sentiment of superiority that raised their global profile, earning them some allies fresh from the paranormal terror inflicted upon them.

          For Arcadia, the military’s last order was to clean up the place. Construction efforts were finally underway to restore the city. Through all of this, the mayor insisted on hosting a very special event. Materials normally reserved for major holidays and electoral campaigns were repurposed to celebrate, as they spoke into a microphone.

          “Testing… testing… ah! My apologies. I appreciate each and every one of you here. But among all my constituents, today we shall honor our very own hometown heroes, for their efforts in rescuing our fair city, and perhaps the world, from the damnation of the flying death. Now, if Rally Co. would please—”

          The crowd went wild with applause as each member was announced and allowed on-stage. Felix would lead the charge, wearing one of Malika’s old suits and hat. Tycho shuffled along in a freshly ironed raincoat, as his suit jacket was torn on the way here. Esme and Katrina were fixing up a pair of gowns they bought brand new just before leaving the house. Solomon was in another three-piece suit, albeit instead of green he opted for a violet hue today, as he stood by the mayor in congratulating his young wards, before the mayor returned to the microphone stand.

          “Rally Co., we here of Arcadia can’t even begin to count the thanks we feel for you. And on behalf of the President, I have the honor of bestowing these hallowed ribbons to each of you.”

          “Ribbons! Not even medals.” muttered Tycho, as Esme leaned in to hear Tycho, and then again to receive her ribbon.

          “Everyone will need all the precious metal for rebuilding, eh?” said Esme. “Perhaps we’ll get a discount on a new car at least. Though that may require us to endorse them on the radio or on posters…”

          Katrina looked excited, even if it was just a ribbon. Though she’d noticed that when she received it, the mayor seemed uneasy. She chalked it up to his re-election campaign needing to start up. But for a moment, she did wonder if the fact that she was now a known psychic in the public eye had something to do with it. Solomon could see her discomfort, as did Felix. They looked to each other with some muted concern. The future seemed bright enough, but there were some things they had to get ready for.

          Back at Solomon’s homestead, Gilligan Diligent and The Wrap had arrived. The Wrap remained close to Gilligan—he looked even less jolly than during the battle against the Golden Shadow. Solomon welcomed them inside. Malika and Felix weren’t far off. It was per Malika’s wishes that her niece not only be present, but involved.

          “Mr. Diligent. Thank you for stopping by, before you headed out of town.”

          “Get to it, Callahan.” said Diligent. “I told the boy what has to happen next. He won’t hear of it. Not from me, at least.”

          Solomon looked to Wrap, who looked aside at the ground. He had been resistant to the idea. But at the same time, he couldn’t outright say no, now that he was in the presence of Malika who had never resented him, Felix whose vengeance once and still paralyzed him, and Solomon—once Othulok’s acolyte, now having saved him. Even if he remained undead.

          “Please try to understand—you would not only learn more of the magic involved in your continued existence, but we’d like to also help you learn your name and more about the ancients.”

          “Why can’t Mr. Diligent stick around?” asked Wrap. “I don’t want to stay here without him."

          “Fellah, I’ve got to keep up my reputation, send more of the doubloons back home. A life like that is no place for ya.”

          Wrap clenched his fists for a moment. But relaxed his hands. Gilligan put a hand on his shoulder.

          “There is one stipulation, Callahan.”

          “Name it.”

Wrap clenched his fists for a moment. Gilligan put a hand on his shoulder. Only then did The Wrap relax.

          “You’ll bring the boy to visit my kinfolk one of these days. They’re as much his family as mine. Y’hear?”

          Solomon nodded. Wrap perked up: This wouldn’t be goodbye. He looked to Malika, who seemed glad that Wrap could finally have some more support, once he’d gotten away from the Golden Shadow. And an unarmed Felix would show him around.

          “… We didn’t really have anyone specialized in magic before you.” Felix pointed out. The Wrap could tell that she was uncomfortable, trying to focus on objective details to avoid the elephant in the room.

          “I suppose it will be nice. Learning from an expert in it, such as Mr. Callahan. He’s done well enough with you lot.”

          Felix actually let off a snort. Wrap was confused, but Felix waved him off.

          “Stories to share later. Around the living room. Perhaps a campfire, if Tycho gets his way.”

          Communicating was going to be difficult. But not impossible.

X

          There was a corkboard on the wall of a room bathed in a low, red light. Freshly developed photos from a chemical dip were pinned to it. Sightings of new crime bosses in the wake of Don Malvoli’s latest defeat, suspected saboteur-spies from places like Arkavalia, and sightings of monsters. There were also some shots of the extra-large lostgate before its destruction, as well as of Blockhouse before he disappeared.

          Ongoing cases, as far as The Junker was concerned.

          For now, he’d have to start from the bottom, and work his way up whenever opportunities presented themselves. Like getting the drop on some gangsters while they were extorting people into paying for protection from looters, loans to get businesses back up and running again.

X

          Esme and Tycho’s choice of celebration was to find a worthy pub, alongside Rally Co.’s allies, the former mobster-mystic, Ribeye Renzo, and the informant Honest Li. Plus his sister (and secretary), Nuo. The latter duo had flown out to Arcadia after things had calmed down somewhat. Katrina also joined them for a time.

          “Three cheers for us! You fellers, and the neo-dinosaurs beneath the Earth’s surface!” said Tycho. “Hip hip, hooray!”

          “The WHAT—” said Honest Li. But before he knew it, he was already clinking glasses with the others.

          “Just keep an ear out, they’ll tell the tale in full.” said Renzo. “Hey, Esme, you hear from those Haddock Street Hooligans? I worry about those kids, y’know.”

          “They’re having their own celebration at our favorite pharmacy soda fountain, my treat.” said Esme. “A few drinks, some snacks, a dozen rounds on the pinball machine, and a stack of some of our old magazines.”

          “Ye didn’t give ‘em the dime novels I was still readin’ did ye?!” said Tycho, before sipping.

          “Nonsense. Only finished novels, comic books and popular mechanix monthly.”

          Tycho was almost going to rest easy, but spit his drink, irritating the others as they cleaned up.

          “Those little ghouls are gonna come up with better ways prank me if they got popular mechanix! May as well enroll ‘em under the tutelage of the Junker.”

          It wasn’t long before everyone else was in hearty spirits. Getting the bartender to run their record player, and a couple of tables were set aside for dancing space. Katrina participated too for a while, but she hadn’t had much to drink beyond a sip of Esme’s champagne. So, she excused herself, wanting to check on the Haddock Street Hooligans. Just before she went, Tycho wrapped an arm around her. He was a great deal steadier than the others, when it came to liquor, but his heart and mind were a little less stoic just then.

          “Yer the sister I never did have. Ma and Da too. If you’re ever on the isle and you’re in a pinch, look ‘em up. Professor and the Druid Madame Gallagher.”

          “Oui.”

          Tycho shut his eyes for a moment, visualizing home. And old friends. And then he ushered Katrina along.

          “You tell those wee monsters I’ll be on the prowl, that’ll get ‘em home at a reasonable hour.”

          “But of course, Tycho.”

          Esme and Nuo were talking in front of Li’s face about some embarrassing detail. Renzo gestured for Katrina to wait, having wanted to divine the future for her with one of his namesake steaks. But Katrina gestured that it was alright.

          “Another time, my friend.”

          “You promise not to precog… precog-ignition without me?”

          “C'est impensable, mon ami!“ exclaimed Katrina, shaking her head playfully. “Let the thought perish. Now have a seat before any slipping or falling.”

          “*HIC!* You got it, boss!”

          With one last wave goodbye, Katrina took to the dark streets. They were so quiet. She looked up to the buildings where steel girders were being put into place, and in the morning the construction crews would resume their critical work. She used the nearest payphone to check in on the soda fountain the Haddock Street Hooligans had taken to, and spoke to each one of them. Ribeye Renzo’s words stuck with her. That sense she needed to be elsewhere, just now.

X

          The Pratt & Marlin automat didn’t see much business at the moment. Most people had sought their dinner at regular restaurant, or with what they had at home. Still, the door was open.

          *Ting-a-ling-a-ling~!*

          One of the servers was stocking a few of the ports. There were walls with many such ports and money slots, mostly for taking coins. The lone server peered through one of the empty ports, but did not see anyone enter.

          *Chk-chrr-chrr-chk!*

          A quarter to the slot for a bologna sandwich. And then again to receive a coffee cup and access to the dispenser faucet, as soon as the server was finished double-checking to make sure everything was at the appropriate temperature before allowing the customer to take it. Once again, the server looked through another empty viewport, and witnessed a man in an aviator’s jacket and white scarf. Glancing back in the server’s direction with flight goggles that bore glowing green lenses, that seemed to ‘blink’ with the shutters of a camera.

          Needless to say, The Junker would be allowed to eat his late dinner in peace. The lone server would not be stepping into the dining area anytime soon. But someone else would: Katrina saw him through the window, and hurried in to join him.

          “Bonsoir, Mademoiselle Kafka.”

          Katrina was astonished that Junker made no move to obscure himself, nor to leave. He was far from tired, but he remained where he was, only moving slightly to offer to pull up her chair. She gestured that it was unnecessary, moving it slightly with her telekinesis, and levitating a quarter of her own for some coffee and creamer.

          “Is this telepathy, or are you really speaking another language?”

          “The latter. If… it should be desired.”

          Katrina shook her head this time. But she would have to remember to test his fluency later.

          “May I ask you something, that I believe only you may know, monsieur?”

          Junker took a bite out of his sandwich, and a sip from his own mug.

          “What would that be?”

          “The shape of things to come.”

          The two focused on their selections from the automat’s offerings for a moment. They had not interacted telepathically, and Junker could detect nothing resembling an attempt at precognitive ESP. No, she was referring to the tabs Junker kept around the city, and elsewhere.

          “New enemies on the horizon. At home, afar, and beyond.”

          Katrina sighed. She could only nod: Arcadia would not always be so safe. And considering they had defeated one previously unknown, occult force just now, that too was to be expected.

          “Tell me about the ones from afar.”

          Junker drank from his coffee. There was silence for a moment.

          “You have encountered some. Spies for the likes of dictatorships, such as Arkavalia. My information tells me that things are worsening there for the populace. The fascists have used the battle against Othulok to propel their propaganda to new extremes.”

          “They will send more agents. They may even feel bold enough to invade their neighbors, once they have the strength enough to do so.” said Katrina, saying the part he did not. The avenging scavenger merely nodded.

          “… I have not found Blockhouse. His fate is uncertain.”

          But Junker did not offer a definitive answer. Although his exterior was stoic, Katrina could tell he held some guilt over that. It was The Junker who flew the unmarked fighter plane before.

          “He is a friend to all of us here. Blockhouse understood what could happen. Do you?”

          There was a small frown on the mystery man’s features.

          “I operate as I do… to prevent that. Rally Co. fights the battles… the world must witness. Rejuvenates their spirits. That which must be done…”

          And then, it was Junker’s turn to point something out.

          “The award ceremony.”

          “You saw us? Where were you? Among the crowd? Alleyway?”

          “Rooftop. Was nice.”

          But there was something there he wasn’t saying. Katrina could feel a certain anxiety as they built up to it.

          “The mayor. He’s up for re-election, isn’t he? Is everyone endorsing him?”

          Katrina shook her head.

          “We are all eager to learn about the new candidates before we are inclined to make a decision.”

          “Wise. Especially after how he looked at you.”

          There was that pallor. That sleeplessness in her eyes. It was always there, but now it just seemed pronounced. While Katrina Kafka had her own doubts and fears about her own self, she loathed to see such fright in another person. And after finding her place among Rally Co., no less.

          “A momentary discomfort, I hope.” said Katrina.

          “…Perhaps.” said Junker, pointing the remainder of his sandwich in her direction, before finishing it off. “But common folk can barely tolerate each other, Katrina. It is something your comrades have faced for their identities, and will for a while yet. You must be cautious.”

          “I have lived my life in ENOUGH caution!”

          Katrina paused. Although she did not use her telekinesis, she had slammed one of her palms onto the table. She checked herself for the pace of her heartbeat, and the way in which she was breathing.

          “Was it not enough to have helped to defeat Othulok?”

          Junker wiped his gloved hands off with a moist towelette. With his eyes hidden, and a certain rigidity to the lower half of his face, he did not let every single expression slip so easily. But in that moment, there was a somber air about him as well.

          “It should be.”

          Katrina reached over to his hand. Junker kept his sight trained on the gesture, unfamiliar with it.

          “If no one else recognizes it, we all do. Solomon as well. I cannot think of a better place to begin.”

          She finished her own coffee, and stood up. Her hand trailing up along the arm of this detritus devil. Junker recoiled when he realized Katrina wanted to put a hand to his face. She pulled back, stopping at his shoulder. And by then Junker seemed to process she only meant to reassure him.

          Katrina had known from all the sorcery, and all the ESP, that violence could occur without touch—she had felt it, and inflicted it in equal measure by now. Although Junker had survived his own infernal trials, his spark of life had given way to a biting flame.

          “If we do not try…” said Katrina. “We would not be worthy of being… exemplars, is that not the correct word? The thing which you see in us.”

          “… The best possible choice.”

          Katrina offered a bittersweet smile. And Junker stood up. Although he had been wary of her touch, he gave her a handshake to try and show his support. At first with one gloved hand, and then both. Though a small gesture, Katrina welcomed it as though it were as grand as a hug.

          “I fear I must still find my own path. But if you all have need of me… I will be there.”

          “Merci.”

          And with a nod, it was Katrina’s turn to disappear into the dark. And Junker thought about it: he wasn’t lying when he said he’d be there for Rally Co., and perhaps now he could try sitting down and talking to every one of them. Even his former mentor.

X

          At last, a statue of bronze had finally been erected.

          There was a figure of a small child in, walking hand-in-hand with a round giant. Although it was made of metal, it still evoked the construct’s malleable clay form, which could become as strong as iron, or as gentle as mud made by a fresh rain. Standing at the center of one of the parks.

          Felix could see that someone had paid respects, with an old paint palette tray that carried the remnant pigment of several shades. The aspiring detective was handed a bouquet by her darling Georgia, and set it beside other offerings, including old children’s storybooks and albums of newspaper funnies-- comic strips.

          For him. For Malika, and even The Wrap. She had to become the leader this team deserved.

          The Wrap was not far off. As were Esme and Tycho, whose lack of bickering was explained by the sunglasses they wore, obscuring red eyes from late nights and flights sponsored by liquid courage. Katrina stood by them to make sure they didn’t stumble, or if they needed to find a trash can post-haste, if their stomachs were not feeling agreeable.

          “He was favorable.” said The Wrap, who walked up beside Felix. “I did not know him long. I haven’t any memories of my past of him either. But he radiated kindness.”

          “That he did.” said Felix, with a nod.

          “I agree.” said Georgia, holding her hands together longingly. “I’ve read so many of those stories about him. He was an absolute delight in the few visits I’ve been able to make.”

          Felix and Georgia shared a kiss, before Georgia had to hurry to work. Having paid their respects, The Rally Co. group headed back for Solomon’s roadster back on the curb, near the entrance to the park. Esme and Felix took to the front as passenger and driver, as the others climbed into the back.

          “Felix, fearless and most fabulous leader—” Esme attempted to speak in a sing-song voice, as she pulled a magazine from the glove compartment. “Any recommendations for the new car? We were thinking something sleek, something fast.”

          “Spacious.” chimed Tycho, raising an index finger. “If Blockhouse comes back. Or we get some other members taggin’ along.”

          “I’ll consider it.”

          Just as Felix started up the ignition, there was an explosion nearby. Everyone in the vehicle looked at each other. Tycho was climbing out to stand on the roadster’s running board so he could jump out into action. Esme was double-checking her array of test tube grenades and on-hand chemicals for split-second mixing in the field, before passing out impellet guns for everyone—including The Wrap, who was preparing to swing from building to building using his mystical bandages. And there were a few words on the tip of Felix’s tongue.

          “Let’s go, Rally Co.!”

          And thus, they took off together. Vigor renewed, a future to meet rather than wait for.

UNTIL NEXT TIME…

X

          AUTHOR’S NOTE:

          To those who have been reading from the start: Thank you for joining me on this ride. It’s taken a lot longer than I’d have liked, life has had its ups-and-downs lately, but it has always been my goal to try and get this story ‘cycle’ of Rally Co. up to 12 entries.

          As you can see, this may not be the definite end to all things adventurous and investigative. I’ve got ideas for one-off episodes and a new arc for Rally Co. I may write someday, but for now I’m going to let the gang have some rest for making it to a dozen stories. Some broken up into multi-part readings, others posted in full. Though I’m not sure when I’ll write Rally Co. again, but it’s my hope that I can bring the same energy I’ve put into this series on my other stories, maybe something in Mutant Media Club or Quick On-It—but definitely more Dynaura.

          Stay tuned, stay classy, and stay alive, Far-fetchers. Your next great adventure awaits.

Donk

[thececeverse]

JASON DAY-FUJIWARA is a Japanese-English actor, visual artist, videographer, businessman, and semi-retired model. Born on January 4th, 1997, Jason began his career as a child actor and model in 2004, and his earliest jobs came in the form of Abercrombie campaigns and print advertisements for Burberry and Chloe. His acting debut didn't come until 2005, in which he had a supporting role in a British soap opera. Prior to his breakthrough, Jason became a prominent young TV actor in England, and his popularity led him to a role in the 2011 Disney film, Lemonade Mouth.

In 2014, Jason was one of two co-stars in the film Sister. The film was an international success, and it won him a Young Hollywood Award, a Saturn Award, and even his first Golden Globe. Sister saw recognition at the Academy Awards, and won the GLAAD Media Award for Best Outstanding Film. The film's success catapulted Jason into semi-stardom in the United States, and he found his way into an Emmy-nominated television film later that year. In 2016, however, he would be transformed into an established actor seemingly overnight.

Jason would secure the role of Jess (later Jax) Takeda in Stranger Things, and his character's subsequent popularity turned him into a beloved actor. As a result, he's since achieved roles in major productions such as Squid Game, The Power of the Dog, Dune, Fast X, the Knives Out trilogy, Scream, Mad Max: Furiosa, Succession, Bridgerton, and Shiai—the latter of which garnered him a Best Actor nomination at the 2024 Academy Awards.

In addition to his booming acting career, Jason also has a booming modeling career. In 2013, he signed a contract with IMG Models, and a year later, he was sent to Paris and London to make his Fashion Week debuts. In between 2014 and 2016, he was seen as a rising star within the modeling world, booking shows and campaigns for the likes of Valentino, Alexander Wang, and Louis Vuitton. Jason's career as a model came to a rather abrupt end in 2016, though, when he announced that he would be taking an indefinite hiatus from modeling. The hiatus would thankfully end six years later, when he returned to the runway for Paris Fashion Week in 2022. Now, he's an ambassador for Celine, Hermès, Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein, and Saint Laurent's "L'Homme" fragrance, and is the first male ambassador for SK-II. Additionally, Jason also happens to be the founder and CEO of Day Media Corp, a gallery and media company, mainly for photography and videography. Founding the company in 2021, it has gone on to be immensely successful.

In 2018, Jason came out as a demiboy, changing his name from Jocelyn Charlene Day to Jason Day-Fujiwara. In his post, he expressed his feelings of gender dysphoria and confusing attraction to women, which he had been feeling for over two years at that point (which was also one of the reasons he decided to step back from modeling). Three years later, he would publicly come out as a transgender man, citing his then-girlfriend for giving him the courage to do so. Since then, Jason has been a staunch activist for the LGBT community and other marginalized groups, regularly speaking at charity events and making frequent appearances at Pride.

In 2019, Jason met his future wife, Aikawa Chouka (also known as Love). Meeting during the table reading before the production of Stranger Things' third season, the two clicked instantly due to their shared Japanese heritage and similar social standing (as Jason's father—Jonathan Day—is the president of the Day Banking Group, while his mother is a wealthy heiress and cast member of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills). Interestingly enough, they also attended the same Swiss private school at the same time, and their mothers were very familiar with each other. They became immensely close over the next two years, to the point where a relationship between their characters on Stranger Things was written in due to their intense chemistry, and by 2021, the internet was beginning to notice just how close they were. Everyone's suspicions were confirmed on Valentine's Day of that year, when both Jason and Chouka confirmed their relationship on Instagram. The world couldn't have been happier, and they've since gone on to become an iconic couple, even tying the knot in 2024. Their lavish Italian wedding has gone down as the "wedding of the decade."

Now, Jason has cemented himself as a beloved celebrity, becoming known as one of the best and most popular actors of the modern age. With his string of iconic roles, activism, booming business, and aesthetically pleasing Instagram feed, it doesn't look like Jason will be going away anytime soon (especially since he's married to Chouka).

[whenweallvote]

When We All Vote Ambassador Sheryl Lee Ralph tonight is us 😂🌟 Who else is watching the Golden Globes?!