#if nobody else got me i know perth got my back with the asks

[f1bordeaux]

The String That Binds Us. (Chapter 1) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood bestfriend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings : none Pairings : Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader Word Count : 1923 Poetry style | Story style A/n: here, my lovelies, is chapter one. Not proofread srry lolsies. Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

one; y/n. 

There was something about it, something in the early morning rays reflecting off the cherry-red paint that just wiped away all exhaustion previously held in your bones. You were wide awake as you stared at the cars being rolled off the truck and into the garage. It was only five am but the sun had already crept over the horizon well enough to illuminate the sight in front of you. Golds and reds, blacks and yellows all mixed into a work of art nobody else could recreate. This is what you were here for. This is what you were living for.

“Gorgeous, innit’?”

You turned to your left, face to face with two others donning the same uniform as you. The woman who had spoken seemed a bit older than you, but now way had she yet reached her thirties. A man was accompanying her, although his eyes rested not on you, but on the tyres now being rolled out of the truck. He seemed close to her age, his deep-tanned skin a high contrast to hers.

You smiled at her before looking down at your lanyard. It was still so hard to process being here, on a Thursday morning in Bahrain, waiting for the weekend that was about to ensue. You were one of them now. You were an insider, a person that got to see everything on a deeper level. People dreamed of getting here, people worked their whole lives in hopes of getting here and yet here you were, 23 years old and face-to-face with Carlos Sainz’s car. It looked so much better in-person.

“It really is.” You sighed, looking back up. The truck was empty now, they were beginning to close the back door. “I still can't believe I’m here.”

The blonde lady leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your badge. “Y/n y/ln? You're new, huh?”

You turned to meet her eyes, a large smile on your face. “Yes, I just graduated University.”

“What an amazing first job to have then.” She smiled back. The man beside her now looked at you as he adjusted the ballcap on his head. “I'm Bridgette, but everyone in the garage just calls me Bridge.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You extended out a hand which she gratefully accepted.

“This is Lorenzo.” Bridgette nodded to the man who offered a toothless smile and his hand. “Enough standing around, we’ve got work to do. Walk with us.”

So you did. The garage wasn’t too far away, just around the corner, but Bridgette loved to talk; that you quickly found out. “Where are you from?” Was her first question.

“Bristol.”

“I hear it’s nice. They’ve got that beautiful river running through it, no?” She asked, looking straight ahead. You just nodded, unsure if she saw your response, but when she kept going you assumed she had. “I’m from Perth. Nothin’ quite like Australia, I must say.” “Isn’t Lando from Bristol?” Lorenzo added. His accent was thick as he spoke.

You nodded again, this time opting to expand on the question. “He is, yeah. We actually grew up together.”

Bridgette turned her head to look at you. “No way! Why didn’t your mate get you a job over at Mclaren?”

A blush coated your cheeks. You didn’t know where it came from, maybe embarrassment, maybe fear, hell, maybe even sadness. Lando wouldn’t have put in a good word for you, not today. Perhaps seven years ago when the two of you were teenagers and on a completely different page, but not now.

“We don't talk like we used to. He was gone a lot but he moved away for good when he was seventeen. He never really looked back, either.” You sighed. An odd sense of pity hung over the three of you. In an attempt to lighten the mood you clapped your hands together and smiled at the two engineers next to you. “But he got me into cars and engineering! So, I owe him a thanks for that.”

Bridgette nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. “There ya’ go.”

The next few moments were rushed. The three of you entered the garage where people worked on putting everything into place. You were introduced to management and owners, mechanics and bosses. Tyres were being placed on racks, tarps were being placed over backup cars, tool boxes were being passed around. It was thrilling, even if you were just standing on the sidelines watching as it all happened. Soon, however, someone called your name. You were sure it was Bridgette or Lorenzo, but it was someone else. Alessandro, Charles' chief mechanic, was heading straight for you, clipboard in hand.

“Have you been assigned a team yet?”

“No, sir.”

He smiled. “Call me Alessandro. No need for formalities. But anyways,” He looked down at the clipboard then back up at you. “Our front jack guy broke his wrist and I need someone to replace him. Care to run some drills?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. “I would be honored.”

“Awesome.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Let's go get you a suit and helmet, then.”

x

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t get the spot.” Bridgette sipped her coffee. “You absolutely crushed it.”

You blushed, rolling your finger around the rim of your cup. The Ferrari motorhome was gorgeous with its meeting rooms and rooftop balcony, with its relaxation spots and cafe. It really put into perspective where you were and who you were working for.

“Thank you,” You said quietly.

The day had gone by rather quickly. The sun was already setting over the desert and exhaustion clung to your body just as tightly as the uniform you wore. You’d spent hours running drills, practicing the most simple yet vital job-jacking the car up. You did it over and over again, improving with every run. After that you were tasked with doing inventory. Sure, it was a small task, one that didn’t require you to get hands on with the car, but it was still important. You wandered the garage counting tyres, drills, wrenches, going through tool bags and drawers. It helped you get situated in the space, to learn the layout and whereabouts of everything. Once you had finished that, you were offered to help wash Charles’ back up car. You gladly obliged, happy to be finally touching the car at least. You washed the tyres, the halo, the rear wing and a bit of the body before standing back to revel in the beauty of the car. It seemed to shine, even in the dim garage lighting. You felt so fulfilled, so privileged, so at home.

“Alessandro likes to give everyone a shot, he doesn’t discriminate.” Bridgette continued. “Today might have been your lucky break.”

“I’d be happy even being a back-up jack, honestly. Just wearing the fire suit and helmet makes me feel all,” you paused looking for the right word to describe it. “Giddy.”

“Well,” Lorenzo began, setting his phone face down on the table. “He needs to pick tonight so we can have that person participate in tomorrow's practice. You should know if you got it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Guess I’ll be tossing and turning all night, then.” You joked.

A small laugh cluttered the table. It was getting late, the track becoming more and more empty with each passing moment. The motorhome was silent, save for the three of you lingering around. “We should go grab the last shuttle to the hotel,” Bridgette stood, taking one last swig from her cup before tossing it into a bin. “Are the two of you coming?”

Lorenzo stood up, as did you. “I left my bag in the lockers. I can wait for the next one if you both would like to go.”

“It’s ok,” he said. “We can wait for you at the front gate.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be quick.”

You jogged through the paddock, grateful that the heat had subsided. Lights poured out of each garage, illuminating pit lane in a way the sun hadn't. The sun, harsh and bright, brought a form of intimidation onto the pavement. The lights however, soft and orange, seemed to bring peace. It was a gentle reminder that at the end of the day, everything would be alright.

You dodged into the Ferrari garage, running to the back lockers to retrieve your backpack. Although your head was almost completely submerged in the metal box, you could hear faint-chatter? You leaned back, wondering if Bridgette and Lorenzo had come to find you. No, it didn’t sound like them. The voice sounded much more familiar. It was like listening to one of your favorite songs after a long while.

Lando paused at the entrance of the garage. His phone was pressed into his ear. He stared at you, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. Did he know it was you? Could he see you? Did he even remember what you looked like?

You swung your bag over your shoulders and closed the locker. As you approached, Lando lifted his brows, erasing the confused look on his face. He surely could see you now.

“Hey, I gotta call you back.” He sighed. “Yeah, everything is good. See you tomorrow.”

A few feet separated you and him. You debated on starting conversation, on asking how he’s been. But you decide just to nod and walk past him. That is your plan until he stops you.

“Y/n?”

You pressed your lips together in a flat smile. “Hey, Lando.”

He looked you up and down. You were uncertain if he found your Ferrari uniform insulting or fitting. What if you were wearing papaya? What if you were sporting  orange instead of red? Would he be looking at you in the same way?

“So you really did make it, huh?” Lando crossed his arms over his chest, smirking as you avoided eye contact.

“I suppose so.”

“Have they assigned you a driver?”

You looked up for the first time since your conversation began. A bit of pride swelled in your chest as you said, matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Charles Leclerc.”

He blinked hard, shocked that you landed not only a job with the most infamous F1 team, but on their star drivers car. Maybe you were better than you let on. Maybe it was more luck. But deep down Lando knew how good you were. He was able to experience it first hand as a kid.

“Wow. Most people remain without a designated driver for their first year. They kinda’ just float around doing all the dirty work. At least, that's how it is at Mclaren.”

“Right.” You gripped your backpack straps like a kid. “Good thing I'm not over there, then.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you fell quiet, only the sound of nearby passing cars and people walking by filled the air. To any bypasser this surely looked sketchy. Lando Norris, Mclarens golden boy, and a new engineer for an opposing team, just staring at one another. How odd.

You broke the silence first saying, “Well I’ve gotta’ go. I have some friends waiting for me to catch the shuttle.”

Lando just nodded, staring at the ground as you walked by. As you passed Carlos’ garage, he called out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

You could barely hear it with the way he spoke so quietly. But you stopped, turning your head and offering a real, genuine smile. “Yeah,” You breathed out.

He smiled back. “Good luck.”

[callmewrinkles3]

Exclusive: Part Two From The Excerpts of Daniel Ricciardo’s Autobiography.

The Perth News, July 2035.

The former Formula One Champion talks about his wife, his family, and gives insights into his personal life like never before.

I know that everyone who reads this is more interested in my life and racing than in me praising my wife, but here’s the thing. She is my life. Her and our kids are my entire universe.

I’ve done some of the coolest things possible in my life. I’ve spent most of my adult life racing, I’ve driven the fastest cars in the world. I’ve sat into the ones that my heroes drove and driven them around the same racetracks they did. I went to hell and clawed my way back with Emma at my side and won a championship, but I can tell you that I’ve never felt as happy as the day I got to hold my kids for the first time. I’ve never been as proud as the day my wife brought our kids into the world and our family got a little bit bigger. But that’s a story for later. I’m going to tell you all about how much I love my kids in a few chapters, but before I do I need you to understand that they’re as amazing as their mother.

As I’ve been told countless times, everyone knows that we love each other. We’re the parents who are always holding hands at the school events, the ones that Lulu cringes about and tells her friends that “mama and dad keep kissing”. But the world doesn’t know everything that Em has done. They don’t know the things she’s sacrificed for me - her privacy, her solitude, her ability to walk down the street alone. That’s why I need to tell the world how wonderful she is. That’s why there’s some things you should know about my wife.

She is the coolest. Nobody in the world is as cool as her, not even me. She doesn’t believe in God, but she does believe in the power of Taylor Swift to solve world problems. She loves art, history, museums, and castles. And she brings me to a new one no matter where we are in the world. She loves crime shows and knows so much about true crime it’s almost scary. She can tell you which episode of Criminal Minds you’re watching from a single frame, and I can confirm that Penny wasn’t named after Penelope Garcia, but we did think about doing that.

She loves shiny things and Legos, and still says her best Christmas present was a Lego flower set we spent Christmas 2020 making together. She’d rather eat homemade food than dine at a Michelin Star restaurant, and she’s the sole reason we don’t have breakfast for dinner every day. She is the sweetest, strongest, most loving woman in the world. She is the most patient person I know. When we became parents we promised we wouldn’t yell at our kids, and our kids have never heard her raise her voice in anger. I know they never will.

She’s so smart and bright and I call her a genius at least once a day because it’s true. I wasn't going to mention this because it's not my place to say, but Em said I can. She's autistic. We found out after we got married, and a lot of things just slipped into place about her and our relationship. It's not a bad thing. It's not a negative. Her brain just works differently to mine, and she sees things I never would. It's one of the things I love her for, not in spite of it. But it's part of why the rumours and crap said about her hurt so much. Her brain picks up the patterns that everyone else misses and without her I would have been completely blindsided in Hungary in 2022. She was the first one to realise there was a chance for a seat in 2023.

She’s loyal beyond comprehension. She will never spill a secret if you ask her to keep it. She lights up a room as soon as she walks in. She’s so funny it’s unbelievable even though she insists she’s not. She gives the best hugs (as voted by our family) and kisses (as voted by me) in the world. She loves crocheting things and used to travel around the world with yarn and her hooks to make stuffed animals. Each one of our kids has a blanket that she made, and she made one big enough for me.

Every single thing she’s achieved in life is because she worked so fucking hard for it. Em has built herself up from the ashes more times than any person should, and more times than anyone I know could. She rebuilt us and me brick by brick when any other person would have walked away and nobody would have blamed them. And then she’s the reason we built up our family of five and she’s the one who keeps our family going. She’s the heart and soul of this family. She loves being a mum, and she was made to be one. She loves our kids - and somehow me because I’m a lucky, lucky man - more than anything or anyone in the world. She deserves everything in this world and the day we got together I made it my job to make it possible.

She’s the sweetest woman in the world and she couldn’t hurt a fly even if she tried. She’s selfless to a painful degree and trying to explain she can be selfish felt impossible. She still isn’t. She’s the kind of person who remembers everyone’s birthdays and has cards and a cake. She asks how everyone is because she really worries. She’ll stay sitting listening to you ramble for hours, even if it’s about things that she has no interest in or doesn’t understand because she knows it means something to you. She let me talk about wine, I made it my mission to create one that she’d drink and I did it.

Emma Ricciardo is the woman who puts everyone else first. She’s been willing to do things that make her life worse in so many ways because she thinks it’ll be easier for other people. She puts her wants and needs behind everyone else’s, and no matter what she still does. It’s just one of the reasons I always put her first in life because she won’t put herself first. You know the thing on flights, put your own mask on before helping others? Emmy doesn’t do that. She helps everyone else first.

She makes the hard days easier. During the worst time in our lives when I could barely get out of bed to go to work she was the one who made the noise go away. She’d wrap me in her arms because it was the one place I felt I wasn’t tearing myself apart. She drove me to and from the McLaren MTC and waited around Woking for me because she knew I needed her. She’s the only person who could ever quiet that overactive, anxious voice in my head. She still is.

And on top of that she’s fucking gorgeous. I know I’m biased, but have you seen her? She’s beautiful inside and out and Milo is so lucky he looks like his Mama. Don’t get me wrong, our girls are beautiful because they look like me but Milo got to take after Em and I love that we have her mini me too. She’s this tiny little British crazy woman who can verbally kick anyone’s ass but smiles like a child when songs she likes come on the radio. She grins at me and I forget what I was saying. I can’t count how many times I forgot what I was talking about during an interview in the paddock. I know there’s YouTube compilations of me losing my train of thought, and I can confirm any of them after mid 2018 were because I saw her.

I can’t count the amount of times my brain went blank and I stopped listening to whatever anyone was asking me, simply because I saw her passing by. She would walk anywhere in my eyesight with Blake and Michael and I could recognise her no matter how far away she was. And then my brain turned into a mess of rainbows, hearts, and glitter. That’s how terribly in love with her I am. She grins and her nose wrinkles and I remember seeing her in that kitchen and wanting to kiss her. It’s how she got her instagram username, I started calling her Wrinkles that night.

I seriously don’t know how I got so lucky. I’ve tried working out how but in the nearly twenty years since we met I still don’t know. Somehow the strongest and most beautiful woman in the world agreed to marry me and call me her husband and let me call her my wife and my baby mama, and I still don’t understand it. She loves me and more than that she likes me, and how cool is that?

I could go on for this entire book to talk about all the things I love about her but I’ll keep most of that to myself to get to the point. There’s a really small circle of people who are lucky to be liked by her. You should feel lucky if Emmy calls you her friend. But there’s this even tinier circle of people who Em actually loves, and if you’re in that one you can call yourself a blessed cunt. If you’re in that very closed circle you know exactly what I’m talking about, and you also know that there’s absolutely nothing that woman won’t do to protect the people she loves.

When I tell you that, what I really mean is she will become lethal. If you mess with the people who she loves, Em turns into a different person who will rain destruction on you. I always say that she turns into Mama Badger, and she calls me a silly and kisses my nose, but it’s true. It’s very rare and I’ve seen it a few times since I met her, but the worst was the last time she publicly turned into Mama Badger. Why?

Because she gets mad when you mess with anyone in that very small circle of people she loves. But guess what happens when someone messes with and publicly betrays the one she loves the most in the world?

[vyinter]

i would ask specific stuff but we both have shit memory so ill save u the trouble. top 5 vixxeu songs. uve listened to at least 5 right

umm...*quickly checks the spotify list* yes of course!! I've listened to at least 10 in fact!! and picking just 5 is infact harder than I imagined lol

1. Fantasy: NOTHING beats it. point blank. it's probably my most favourite kpop song. The dramaticity? The theatrics?? the multi million dollar worthy musical score?? I didn't even like moonlight sonata until I heard fantasy. in fact multiple drama directors saw the drama mv ver. and said hakyeon looks so sexy contemplating to be evil they would love to see him in a fit of despair. The Storyline? I just want it to be turned into a full length movie and a 1.5 hour symphony.

2. Into the Void: you told me to listen to it! best decision! another song to get sucked into another dimension into. this is what batman listens to when he's standing on top of gotham's skyscrapers. this is what's playing at the crucial point of every hero's journey. I accidentally played this song once blacked out and found my self levitating by the chest making multiple deals with the devil. he told me good taste he's a fan too.

3. Error: RENT FREE writer of are you human too said this actually invented robots having feelings and not one person in history of kpop has ever successfully conveyed this emotion

every time this song plays i'm on my knees...... falling.....crawling... begging.... despairing..... interpretation ballet dancing..... spinning like a roomba having an emotional breakdown... wall-e-ing if it could dance.... and the vocal line moaning in harmony 😌💖

4. Scientist: there are so many things to talk about in this it wouldn't even end. the scent. the plot. ken's eyebrow slit. leo's white hair. hongbin's acting lessons paying off. Hakyeon from minute 0:00 to 3:12. I kinda hated how this mv was edited very seizure inducingly I was rly wondering if their old mv editor quit and for the longest time I had a hard time watching the it but now I can enjoy it. Also I think this is the first vixx song I heard. I remember my starlight friend freaking out when this was released and sent me like 10 links to listen to and this song stood out the most. so it has a special place in my heart.

5. Shangri-La: there's just something about those outfits and the fans and the larger than life breathing beauty into a traditional modern fusion painting aesthetic. it's beautiful to hear it's beautiful to see it's simply beautiful. it's a very watching a historical drama set in a distant kingdom of heaven where the princes rule over an element and fight for the throne or at least how I like to think the undercurrent of it is. like the concept kings are the concept kings no one's beating them when they have 1. vocal line doing musical equivalent of pulling each other's hair 2. dance line of a man with the commanding presence of ten thousand suns 3. creative director with a vision 4.aesthetics which can be used for world building 5.drāmãtīquë. I actually rated it on how much I like the sound of songs I've heard but yknow how u just can't stop at the sound with vixx

bonus: dynamite has been playing in my head today. I don't really like the music production of it but that dingo live video of them singing it? I pay it's rent. in fact I even sing it a bit late like how ken sang instead of the original version that's just how much I like that video

[scullysexual]

You can read this if you want. It’s personal. I’m not expecting pity or sympathy or anything like that. I just want someone to know. 

My friends play dnd online and I can’t play because my internet wouldn’t be strong enough and that I’m okay with. I recently found out that they used that time as a way to talk about me. Since January I haven’t been okay. I got anxious about going to uni which then turned into anxiety to be around my friends. We used to play dnd in person, a game that should never have been as stressful as it was but I was surrounded by people who were good at maths and I came out with a grade G (the lowest grade) at the end of my exams and barely any grasp of basic math. I still count on my fingers when adding and don’t ask me to subtract. My ability to comprehend numbers is very low and I was okay with that, I owned it in a way...until it wasn’t okay anymore and I felt stupid because it took me so long to add up dice. I’ve never liked wasting people’s time, I’ve never liked being an inconvience and that’s all I felt like I was. Even in January when my mental health took a nose dive and believing I could confide in my friends I told them, as you do. I turned up very late for uni (we were in at 9 and I’d go in at 2). Rarely was I asked where I was and if I was asked, nothing else was ever said, no are you okay, nothing. It was like my issues weren’t really there.

So I thought getting diagnosed would help. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

I was okay for a while. I managed to go to the doctors, I managed to work out a system for uni after I had a panic attack from being in and around people for too long. Things were getting better. Until I went to Australia. Everyone said that that would be a time for me to get better, that having three weeks away from uni would cure me. I tried believing that myself but I knew it would just make it worse.

On the 4th day- the day we were set to leave Perth and go to Melbourne- I decided that that would be a great moment to look at the news. After that, it was just a spiral downwards. Suddenly I couldn’t comprehend airport security and had two panic attacks (one in Perth and one in Sydney) My anxiety going through there hit the ceiling. It was difficult to begin with, it became impossible after. So I told my friends. Again, not many people commented on it.

I don’t know at what point did I drive my friends over the edge but my problems became a running gag. They were viewed as “complaining” or just “being negative all the time”. “What’s wrong this week” became a thing they apparently started saying during dnd while I wasn’t there.

After speaking to members of staff in my uni about how I was feeling, nobody really offered any help, nobody has checked up on me. I asked for an extension- explaining that I still wasn’t doing okay- only one person replied back.

I feel forgotten. I feel like an annoyance and a burden and an inconvenience. I became all the things I never wanted to become. I feel like people just want me to sit in a corner and shut up.

I feel like I’m falling off the edge, I want to die but I don’t want to hurt anyone by doing so. I have little motivation, I don’t want to hand in my work. I just want someone to notice me and help me.

How can I know just by the energy in a room that somebody in upset yet nobody even bothers to ask me how I’m doing. 

[codyfernsource]

Full Cody Fern SXSW Talk Transcription

The first 15 minutes or so had originally been posted here but eakintata has done the absolute work and transcribed the whole interview! Make sure you give her some love because she deserves it.  you can find her original copy here TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT

Shattering the Hollywood Mold: Bold and Unapologetic Monday, March 11, 2019 at the Australia House, SXSW

Jenny Cooney: So, there we go, that's the intro. So maybe you can, I mean -- did you really come from a town called Southern Cross? It's like the most perfect Australian, you know, ad. [laughs]

Cody Fern: I did, yeah. I was...

J: Is the mic working?

C: Is this on? I gotta hold it like so close… Yeah, I grew up in Southern Cross. What was the question?

J: You have a very -- you came from -- like, when we say small town, it was like not even a town, was it?

C: It was tiny. My parents still live there, or one of my parents still lives there. When I was growing up, it was just under 300 people. It's like a very farming, mining, high suicide rates, very Australian Outback. So like for those who know Perth, it's six hours inland from Perth.

[to someone in the audience] Hi!

[continuing] It's six hours inland from Perth by train, seven by car. So, it was tough. But I survived.

J: So how does a kid who grows up in a town that small in the middle of nowhere end up getting to L.A. I mean, where do you start? At what point when you were growing up did film or television or acting become something but you knew was a job and you wanted to do it?

C: I think I have to answer that in two parts. I mean, the first one is I knew that I wanted to act when I was five or six. I became very self-aware around five, and I think the realization for me was that everybody around me was always lying. And in a small country town gossiping is a real staple. So what would happen is, you know, my mother's friends, or whoever it happened to be, would be together, then someone would leave, then everybody would start gossiping. And I started to notice this in every circle in Southern Cross. It was its own kind of network, but nobody was telling the truth about how they were feeling.

And Australia is a very macho culture. They have a very kind of standard definition of what masculinity is, and in the country, that's kind of like masculinity on steroids. Which is so stupid. But I always found it to be really troubling and I remember, at five or six, having the awareness of, “Everybody is acting all the time.” I didn't know what it was, I couldn’t put words to it but everybody was playing a game, and that I saw the game really clearly, and nobody else seemed to.

And that was where I first kind of started to realize that this was something that I was interested in. But when I was 13, well leading up to 13, I would always watch really intense emotional films. But like, with the divas in them. I’m talking, like, Cher in Moonstruck, and Meryl Streep in Sophie's Choice, and Betty Davis in All About Eve. And they used to have one movie -- we had three channels -- and they would have one movie which is the Movie of the Week, and every day at 12:00 p.m. the same movie would play. So you could watch All About Eve seven times in one week. And so I did. [laughter]

And that's really where it started to form, was with divas, strangely enough. And then when I was 13, I saw Cate Blanchett in Elizabeth, and that was the first time that I had real clear understanding that she was not the Queen, but it was so real. It was so visceral, and it made so much sense, and the whole world was complete. But I knew she was Australian, so she couldn't be this person, and that was when I started to realize, “Wait, this is something that you can actually do.” Because before then a Hollywood celebrity or an actor or a star was kind of like a -- it’s like a unicorn, you know. And they're born like that. And then all of a sudden they're like, doing movies and that was their destiny. And then your destiny is to work on farm. So that was when I really understood.

The second part of the question -- Jesus Christ that was a long answer. [laughter] The second part of the question, or the second answer, is about, “How does a young boy from Southern Cross get to Hollywood?” And I’ll need years of therapy to understand it. I mean, I'm still trying to figure it out. You know, obviously, there was an action plan… This bag has my face on it. [laughter] You should hold that up [laughs]. So hysterical. This is so strange to me.

[Jenny holds up the bag.] The whole talk, I’m trying to talk, and I’m staring at me. [laughter] So, how did I get on people’s bags?

So there was a chain of events that led up to it but, I... the true and honest answer, and I'm sure we'll talk about it more after this, but is that it's still something that I try to compute, between nature and nurture, and fate and destiny, and work ethic and opportunity, because I really don't believe in luck. And for me, I always understood that I was born into -- and I love my family very much. They’re very dear to me. But I had always understood that I was born into a situation, into a society, into even a country, at that point in time, that was very difficult to expand outwards. And that I was kind of doomed to a life that had been chosen for me, and I understood very early on that if I was going to break free of that, that I was going to have to work really really really really hard. And that meant working harder than anybody else, and being very honest with myself, and really embracing and accepting failure. And I failed a lot. I mean I didn't start acting until I was 24, so I've been acting for six years.

J: You auditioned for all of the drama schools and got rejected, right?

C: Four times. The fourth time I auditioned for WAAPA, so the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, the head of the academy at that time told me [there was a glitch here]. It was only recently that I have made a discovery -- and this is without any sense of ego or modesty -- it was only recently that I made the discovery, “Oh, that's why people…” Because, you know I had a hard childhood and a hard slog at boarding school. I was always very different. I was targeted by teachers. I was targeted by students. I was just targeted. It was just a very difficult world to be in. And because I was --

J: You mean, like, bullied?

C: Heavily, yeah. Verbally, physically, you know. And it was never -- it was hard, but I always knew, if I can just get through this, something is on the other side. And that all of this has to mean something. I’m a person who really searches for meaning in everything, and that that point in time, I knew that this has to mean something. It has to be for something. This can’t just be the end of it, you know? That this is what happens, and this is how I feel, and then I just go on. I knew that it had to really be for something, because the trauma that I was experiencing, particularly the bullying, was so intense that if I didn't have an outlet to use it, I would’ve self-destructed.

But now, in retrospect, where I am in my life, having just turned 30, I'm able to look back and really understand, “Oh, these people were really scared of me. They were really, really scared.” And that's what people do when they're afraid. You can’t be something that they’re not. You can't ask questions that they're not willing or ready to ask themselves. You can't say things that they don't believe in. You can't challenge conventions that they need to hold onto. And so at a certain point in time, you just have to get on with it, you know?

J: And you did.

C: And I did.

J: Did you find when you started acting, on the other side of the whole experience, it was also in some ways a form of escape from, you know, some of the difficult --

C: No. Acting was never an escape for me. Oh, well, maybe it was. I don't think it was ever an escape for me, as it was actually turning towards all of the feelings head-on, and having a place to explore them. Because one of the great things about acting is when you first begin -- and I teach a lot of workshops to specifically teenagers in rural areas who are never going to the ability to… Well, never say never. I’m here. I enjoy working with teenagers because they have such a depth of feeling that is so silenced by adults. It's frightening, I understand, especially at schools, for teachers and for adults to deal with the intense world of the teenager. But when you are spoken to as an equal, when somebody acknowledges your existence, and that you are not just the child of somebody who has to learn something, so that you can go out in the world and work and then retire, it's pretty great what comes out.

It's a way to explore, acting -- it began for me as a way to explore all of my feelings especially in a culture that didn't allow you to have them. That everything needed to be above board all the time. And I have always had an intense depth of feeling. It changes, of course, because if you’re just, you know, feeling things all the time, as an actor, it's not great acting. It's just emoting. So it becomes, you know, it becomes something else. But it began for me really as a way to actually not escape from, but confront myself.

J: So you ended up going from Perth to Sydney? First?

C: I joined a -- I was working for Ernst & Young at the time.

J: You were in accounting?

C: I was in accounting.

J: You got your degree in commerce, right?

C: I got my first degree in commerce. That’s so wanky, “I got my first degree in commerce.” But I did. I got my first degree in commerce, I majored in management and marketing, and I did my honors in strategic consumer behavior, which was all about, like, you know, “How can I sell this thing better if I manipulate people into buying it?” And and then I worked for Coca-Cola for a while, and Ernst & Young. And then I hit a certain point in my life where I realized that I hated myself. And I hated everything about my life, and I was essentially having a nervous breakdown. And that included understanding that I hated the people that I was hanging around with, I hated the music I was listening to, I hated the clothes that I was wearing, I hated the direction I was going, I hated everything. And the common denominator was me. So, I had to do something about it, and I had to do something about it rapidly.

Because there was the slow death which involves making a lot of money and being incredibly unhappy or there was falling headfirst into the abyss, and you know it's like, well, at least if I’m gonna die, I'm gonna die falling from 10,000 feet, you know, hitting pavement at 1,000 miles an hour. And that’s gonna be more pleasant. So as bleak as that sounds, that fall is a lot of fun. And I jumped. And I joined an experimental theater group, and walked out of Ernst & Young. Which was... tricky. It's another story for another time. I was a very troubled kid at that point in time. I had never had real friends, I'd never had anything stable besides my family. I was, you know, doing wild things and sleeping in parks some nights because I wasn’t able to go home, you know, out of my mind. It was just like I was losing myself.

And then I joined an experimental theater group, and an acting class, and that's where it began. And then that grew into professional theater, and that professional theater led me to Sydney where I was cast in War Horse. And, you know, what's interesting is that every single casting director in Australia, almost all directors in Australia, had always said you're not Australian enough to be in this production you can't do this because you're not Australian enough. You're too pretty, you’re too this, you’re too that, you’re too -- and I never felt that. It was always, you know, strange to me because people are always, I realized, throwing labels on to me. And I'm not a label, I’m not a category. I’m more like a verb, you know? [laughter]

J: I’m gonna borrow that one day.

C: I just think that I'm always changing, and that I'm always growing, and nobody knew where to put me, or what to do with me, so they just said that I couldn't do it. And then I worked with Ellen Burstyn in a master class -- take that NIDA -- and she was the first person really to say, “You,” -- she called me out in front of the entire master class, you know, there were 300 people and there were 18 people from around Australia who were working with her, 17 of, like, the most famous Australian actors, and me, who had lied my way into this workshop. And she said, in front of everybody, “You have real talent. You could really do this. But you’re gonna need to work really really really hard. So, who do you want to be?” And that's when I knew, you know. “OK, it’s going to be tough. But I can do this.” And still nobody would cast me in anything. [shrugs]

J: So the first time I met you is when you won the Heath Ledger scholarship, which was Australians in Film in L.A., which I’m part of, that gave you that award. But it didn’t open doors overnight for you. Can you talk a little bit about that time in your life? That was, though a definite step in the direction of people saying, “We see you, we know you have talent, it’s just a matter of time.”

C: It’s so important, it’s so important, you know. To be witnessed, to be acknowledged, is one of the first steps. It's only the first step. It doesn't, you know -- because you yourself need to get over the need for everybody else's validation. But when you have professional bodies or organizations, and something like the Heath Ledger scholarship… Again, you know, when I won the Heath Ledger scholarship, everybody was stunned. There was a sense of, you know, there are all of these, like home-and-away people. These Australian actors, and these -- and everybody was like, “Who the hell is this kid, that just won this?” You know? I mean, I won it off like, self-tapes. It wasn’t like I had some big CV.

J: The judging panel was pretty big, at the time.

C: Colin Farrell was one of them. That was fun. What a cool guy he is. So I was all of a sudden being acknowledged by all of these people, and this body that was saying, “You know what? We actually really believe you can do this.” It was the first step in that there were many to come, because then for the first three and a half years in Los Angeles, I could not get arrested. I was living -- I had the $10,000 that I was given from that, and you know, that included -- you have to move into a house, you have to have to have things to live on. I had a mattress on the floor, I had a couch, and I was very happy. And me and my roommate would buy everything that we owned from Bed Bath & Beyond then every month, it would be like, “What can go back? So that we can make the rent?” So we’d be returning the curtains, and we’d be returning the curtain rods. You know? Things like we’d return the couch covers, and the pillow inserts. You know, we were adding it up, and we were making rent.

And we were working. I was auditioning all the time, and again it was the same thing was coming up: “You’re too this, you’re too that, you’re too,” -- nobody knew where to place me. Everybody wanted me to play the boy next door, and I just didn't want to do it. I just refused to do it.

J: I never lived next door to anyone that looked like you. [laughter]

C: Oh, shucks! So I just -- so I played a game for a while, that everybody wanted me to play, which was, “You're going to be the next great action star.” How boring. “You’re, you know, that's what you're gonna be.” Ugh, so boring. So, but I did it. I wore really -- I'm sure when you met me I was wearing really plain clothes, I was really just like, “How's it going?” You know, I really wanted to just be OK. I just wanted to be liked. I just wanted to work. And it didn't work. It didn't work. And then I went through three and a half years of hell, but that was so much fun, because it really tested my mettle. It made, you know -- when you are living in survival mode in Los Angeles -- and I’d never been to Los Angeles. I got off the plane in Los Angeles and I was like, “No matter what happens. this has to work out, so I just have to bank on myself.” I had no friends, I knew nobody.

I slept on a girl's yoga mat for two weeks, and she would come home, and she would have like schizophrenic outbursts and… it was weird. And I was sleeping on a yoga mat for $900 a month, because I didn't know that that wasn't what you did in Los Angeles. And then at night we would put plays together -- it was really strange. It was very strange. But then it got more stable and it tested my mettle, like, “How badly do I really want this? And how hard am I willing to work for it?” And every single time I had a self-tape, every single time I had an audition, for me it was like the herculean effort of crafting a full performance. And no matter what they said to me I was going to do what I wanted to do and what I knew was right, I mean, obviously with notes and what-not. But what I mean was really working, really working. Because if this is my only opportunity, then I need to love what I'm doing, and that includes auditioning. Because if you're not gonna let me do this, I’m gonna be the one that gets to do this, and you can’t tell me no. Because I love this. So all I need is to audition; I don’t need you to give me the role.

And slowly things started to shift. It was between me and Dane DeHaan, and me and Dane DeHaan, and me and Miles Teller, and me and -- and they still couldn’t figure out, “Is he Miles Teller? Is he Dane DeHaan? Is he Logan Lerman?” And I was like -- they just couldn’t figure it out. And then finally, Ryan Murphy came along, and said, “I know who he is; he’s Cody Fern.” And just like that, the world changed, overnight. Because Ryan Murphy said, “You’re not anybody else other than who you are and I know that you can act. So, let’s get on with it.”

J: You had wanted -- you had thought that Ryan Murphy was the guy that would recognize that.

C: I knew he was the guy. I’d said to my agent --

J: You just had to get in the room with him at some point, right?

C: I’d said to my agents, “You need to introduce me to Ryan Murphy.” And they said, “That’s not how it works.” You know, I was like, “This Ryan guy is really onto something. Trust me.” This was years ago, you know, but I was like, “He’s really -- he’s got something going on.” And everyone was like, “Yeah, OK, Cody.” And you know, he was famous. Ryan was famous, but American Crime Story had not come out yet. So he had done Glee and he had done Nip/Tuck and he’d done -- but it was really when American Crime Story hit, the people went, “Whew, my god. Ryan Murphy is a genius, genius, genius.” And I was like, “Yeah, he's been around for years, guys. You didn't see this?”

But, you know, what's funny is that the process of that three and a half years of testing my mettle also became about workshopping for myself as an actor, and a human being, and growing and learning and bringing something to the table as an actor. Because I don’t see myself as an actor, I see myself as an artist. And that is not just, “I'm an artist and so therefore I finished my work.” It means that the work has just begun, and I need earn it, constantly, every day. You have to earn it. You can't just say it and then, like, that's it. And then somebody else, like, proclaims that you are that, and then it’s over and done with. It doesn't work like that for me. And it was a process of becoming more authentic, and the more authentic I became, leading up to the point where I auditioned for Ryan Murphy, all of the sudden it just -- doors started flying open. And now people ask me who I am. Now that -- now, you know, people are -- now that, like, I am the Genderfuck Rebel, which I... you know, OK.

J: Which was written on the cover of British CQ, which I wish I had a big copy of right now. Just came out. If you go on Cody's Instagram, you’ll see a copy of the cover.

C: Yeah, it’s really sexy. It’s really [goofy?]

J: There is a picture of him and it says Genderfuck Rebel, right?

C: Mm-hmm.

J: There you go.

C: And I don’t mind. Like, I now start to understand that, and I’m OK to accept that, that when you function outside of the realm of what people expect from you, it's rebellious. And I'm OK with that. I'm good with that. Because now I don't have to do what they want me to do. I get to do what I want to do.

J: Right. Well, I mean the name of this Game Changers panel is Shattering the Hollywood Mold: Bold and Unapologetic. Which, pretty much, if you look that up, would be a photo of you. So, talk a bit more about shattering the mold. I mean, Ryan saw you as you, and put you into some really unique roles. Were you still feeling that you didn't fit into a particular model? Did you not want to fit into a mold? Or is the mold, like, not fitting in?

C: No, you know, it’s interesting. It’s hard to talk about, because I've tried to figure it out so many times myself. I think in any one day, I -- you know, I've always struggled with my identity, in every single realm of my life. It's been hard to figure out who I am. And to figure out how I got to where I got to, and it's -- it's a mind game. And my mind is really, you know me, it's really like a struggle sometimes. But a fun struggle, at least. And I studied -- my second degree was in psychology and I really love the psyche, and, you know all of the intricacies of the psyche. The shadow and the ego and what makes up a human being. But for me, what I find fascinating about all of that is that every time I think I’ve figured myself out, it slips out of my fingers. And it can be that you're wearing different clothing, it can be that you’ve been a different person, it could be that your interest has changed, or one day you wake up and you just don't know who you are anymore. And that process of constantly finding myself, knowing who I am, and finding an expression for it, and then losing completely, has meant that I actually -- I can't stay with one thing for too long, and I have to go with my instinct at the time. So breaking the mold, for me, has really become about…

You know, what I did at the Golden Globes -- I knew we were going to talk about this at some point. What I did at the Golden Globes was not about… Because Vogue called. And said, you know, we want to do a piece on you, about your Golden Globes look, and we’ll talk about the Golden Globes look and blah, blah, blah. And I said, “Well, I don’t want to talk about it. Because I don’t want to have to explain it.” You know, I’d said what I had to say when I rocked up, wearing what I was wearing.

J: Which, if people didn’t see you, do you wanna describe?

C: Well, it was beautiful.

J: It was. It was a sheer black shirt, what was it, like a chiffon?

C: Maison Margiela, sheer with pants very similar to these, and Tabi boots. And makeup. And it was glamorous. And I wanted to do that because it’s so boring on the red carpet. you know it's like every guy comes wearing the same thing that his mother dressed him in for his year 12 formal. [laughter] And I just don’t get why we’re continuing to do it. Like, time after -- and then people are like, “Oh, we spent six months making this tuxedo.” Really? You could’ve got it off the rack at Target. [laughter]

So, I just didn’t understand. I also needed people to help me with that, you know, and I had a lot -- I have a lot of people in my life who really helped. And it just became about -- what’s beautiful? And what’s art? And that you yourself can become an art piece. And that you yourself can become -- I wanted to wear what I found stunning. Because it’s, you know -- I wanted to feel… beautiful is what I wanted to feel on that carpet. Because it was my first Golden Globes, and my whole life I’ve been told, you know, I was an ugly, terrifyingly stupid, dumb, untalented -- I mean, you name it, I’ve been called it. And it was a real statement to myself, I didn’t care about anybody else, that, “You’re here, Cody. You made it to this point. Wear what you wanna wear.”

J: And you wore it right up on that stage when Versace won the Golden Globe.

C: We won the Emmy. Or Golden Globe! Jesus Christ.

J: So, yes, there you were.

C: Beg your pardon.

J: It’s all right.

C: We won the Emmy as well.

J: You won the Emmy as well.

C: I wasn’t at the Emmys because I was working on Horror Story that night. That’s why I didn’t make that. But yeah, that was a real -- I remember being on stage the Golden Globes and just being like, “Breathe. Breathe.” It's like, “There’s Lady Gaga, there’s…” You know, it’s just like -- it was wild. And especially for a kid who was just like, “That's what I want to do.” I mean it's, I mean, no one in Southern Cross had ever been to university, to college. How do I figure out how that happened for me? How do I figure out how that, and the courage that it took to do that? And it’s like at some point in time I realize it's just about -- you’ve just gotta put your hands down in the mud, and get on with it. You've just gotta do what you feel is right, and... fuck ‘em. You know?

J: Yeah

C: You’ve got to get on with it.

J: So, I mean, talking about bold and unapologetic was exactly what you decided to do on the Golden Globes red carpet. So, I know you don’t want to get into the why and the whole Vogue thing.

C: No, I don’t mind with you.

J: But I did find the story you told me about the stylist who insisted that you shouldn't dress like that, that you should do the tux thing. That was someone you hired and then you had to…

C: Actually, that was an interesting one because two days before the Golden Globes, you know, I’m going through designers after designers after designers, and nobody knew who I was at that point in time, so nobody cared to dress me. So I really had to figure out what I wanted to wear, and I had given her a list of all the designers that I wanted and really what I wanted to do at the Globes, and that I wanted to make a statement about gender. And the statement that was being made about gender is however you want to take it. I'm not going to explain it to anyone because I think it's -- what I did was for other people to interpret. But I rock up to the thing and she's got like a Hugo Boss suit and, like, you know, another Hugo Boss suit. And then there are dresses and skirts, and I'm like, “OK, I get it, but what is this about?” And she's like, “Well, you wanna, like, mess around with gender.” And I was like, “No no no no no.” That's -- it's not edgy because you're wearing a skirt on the red carpet, that's not what I want to do. I wanna wear something that's objectively beautiful, that's really, because, in and of itself it's a beautiful piece.

And then I got a lot of backlash from people being like, “This is too risque, this is going to be received as offensive, this is going to be -- you should really do what everybody else does.” And I was like losing sleep over it, coming -- you know, we're supposed to be at the event on the Friday, and I didn't have anything to wear, and it's the Golden Globes, you know. It's like one of the year's biggest fashion events, as well as, you know, what it actually is honoring. So I did it all myself.

J: So you went shopping.

C: I went shopping. I bought the pieces with my own money. I paid for people to come and help me with my makeup and with my hair. Every element of it was my own thing.

J: And the afterwards, you were named one of the best dressed on the carpet by everybody.

C: I beat Lady Gaga.

J: So that must have felt, you know, like, pretty great.

C: Great. It felt great. It felt great.

J: You took -- you put yourself out there, again, and that people recognize you were being authentic. You know, that's where -- when your motives come from that place.

C: That's why I can say it felt great. Because it doesn't come from a place of ego or immodesty. It’s not like, “Oh, I’m this and I’m that, and I’m blah, blah, blah.” Ugh, you know, I don't care for that. But I also am like, “Now I am able to absorb some good,” you know. I used to be a very self-loathing, self-hating, self-chastising person. And now, I’m learning to -- when you see good, like, receive it. You know? Allow yourself to breathe it in. Because it's not all about being tortured, and I'm plenty tortured, so I can honestly say it felt good. It felt good, because it felt like -- I didn't need it, by the way. I thought that it was gonna go one of two ways. The next day, it was gonna be an absolutely joke in all of the trades, and I would be able to stand in the middle of all that and say, “I did what I did, and I know it was right.” Or it's going to go the other way. And it was strange. There were people on the carpet, and everybody was like, “Who is this guy? And who cares?” And then I hit that red carpet and there was an audible gasp from the wall of photographers. And Rami Malek had just walked the carpet, who was nominated, and all of a sudden everybody was screaming my name. And that's when I knew this was gonna be big.

J: And then Billy Porter took it one step further on the Oscar red carpet.

C: Billy Porter is the best human being alive today. I love Billy. We worked together on Horror Story, and Billy is a hero.

J: Yeah, he is. Now let's talk about your work, and particularly starting off with your Ryan Murphy work. Versace was the first thing you did. That role was a difficult role because, you know, we're in this very dark world of this guy that we know what he's going to do, and he's in love, or really, obsessed with your character. What was it like, you know, working in that environment? I don't know if Ryan directed any of your episodes, [Cody shakes his head no] and you got to know Darren Criss and everybody else. What was that experience like, to be on the set like that?

C: That was one of the best experiences of my life. Once you've worked on a Ryan Murphy set, particularly something like American Crime Story, everything else is ruined for you. Because it's a family, first and foremost. And if you don't belong in the family, then, you're excommunicated. And I don't mean that in the sense of, like, you did bad work, or you blah, blah, blah. But like, if you don’t fit in, if you’re not a kind person, and if -- the two things that matter the most in the Ryan Murphy world is that you are kind, and that you are hard-working. You've got to show up day after day. I got that script. I knew that this was going to be my door in with Ryan, I knew that I was gonna play this role, and I knew what this guy was going through. I could play this.

I flew back from London for the audition -- I was working on a script at the time in London -- and I flew back. And I decided that I need to empty the tank in this audition room. This is the last audition I'm going to do for a year and a half, because I’m gonna go off and I’m gonna direct a film. Because it was just becoming too heartbreaking, having people be like, “You were the best person for the role but we’re not -- you're not getting it.” I was like, “I can’t do this anymore. My heart is breaking.” And then I got the call from Ryan. And that set was the most loving, supportive environment, especially because I came in with what was possibly the hardest task of the series, which was -- we know that this guy is going to die from the outset, and you need everybody to fall in love with you, and you need to play the most extreme emotions imaginable, from the very first scene that you'll be filming, where your best friend's head is beaten in with a clawhammer, and everybody has been working already for eight weeks, and everybody knows each other and is a family, and... good luck.

So I really had to work my ass off. And the writers, Tom Rob Smith is so amazing and Darrin and I have completely different ways of working, you know. I’m really, like, I have the earphones on and I'm very, like, you know sitting on emotions and things. Because in that role, I needed it. And that’s the difference between something like Versace and Horror Story is in Versace, if you’re not, if that character -- he was a real person. He has real family who are suffering today, still, because of what happened. And that we knew going in I'd been told by the team that David and Jeff's story, the thesis of this story -- there's everything else around it, and people want to watch you know Penelope Cruz they want to watch Gianni, but it was really a Trojan Horse for the truth of what was happening, which was gay shame.

And David embodied all of that, you know, David had to die because of that. And I was only supposed to be in one episode, so they kept writing me in. That's when I knew, something's happening here. But I had one episode to do it in. So it was a lot of fun, but it was it was a big responsibility and I really shouldered that. And it was hard.

J: And then at some point, while you were still filming that, Ryan took you aside and said, “I’ve already got another role for you?”

C: Ryan and I had not met, really, when I started filming. And I kind of barged into Ryan’s office and said, “I wanna meet Ryan Murphy.” You know, I just literally -- and everybody was like, “You should not do this, this is bad, this is bad, this is bad.” And Ryan was sitting there eating lunch. And his assistant was like [shakes his head]. And I kinda left being like, “I’m about to get fired.” And then I got a phone call, and it was, you know, “Ryan Murphy wants to see you in his office.” And… I’m about to get fired. And he said, you know, “I saw your addition, blah, blah, blah. I haven't seen your dailies yet. I don't watch an episode until it's fully cut together because I want to give all the artists involved their opportunity, you know.”

And then I got called in after he saw the first cut of the fourth episode, and it was on. And that's when he was like, “I want you to play everything.” And he asked, he said, “What do you wanna do?” And I said, “I wanna work with Sarah Paulson and Kathy Bates.” And he said, “You need to work with Sarah Paulson. You’re gonna be the lead in the next Horror Story.” OK. You know, I was like, “All right.” And he told me the role that I would be playing, which was not the role that I ended up playing. I was gonna be the good guy. And two days before Horror Story started, I was told, “You’re Michael Langdon, the Antichrist.”

J: A little bit of a switch.

C: Good luck. Yeah. I love it. I love that.

J: So then you got on a set with Kathy Bates and Sarah Paulson. That must have been like -- for a boy who grew up with the divas...

C: And Jessica Lange and Joan Collins. I mean I was just like rolling around in the bed of candy, it felt like. It was -- it was so easy to do that role. It really was easy. It was, because you’re working with Sarah Paulson -- if you're ever lost in a scene, look at Sarah. You're in the room with Jessica Lange. Throw your ideas out the window and have fun. Kathy Bates and I -- it was like a mother and son relationship that became a real-life mother and son relationship, you know. She calls me son. And I had loved them all so much. And it was -- the first scene that I had in American Horror Story is in the second episode, when I have to interrogate Sarah Paulson's character, and it's a nine-and-a-half-page scene. Everybody else has been filming for three weeks, and I come in, and this is my first scene, and I had got the script two days before, and it's nine pages, and its opposite Sarah Paulson. Whew.

J: And you have to be the bossy one.

C: I have to be in charge. But what was great about it was that I really had to breathe, and I made sure that I was breathing, and my feet were on the ground. And I was like, “OK, you know, you're here. This is where you've always wanted to get to, so lock in, and go. Like, this is your chance, go.” And it was funny because we started acting and I'll never forget that Sarah kind of looked at me as if like, “Who the fuck is this guy?” You know? And after, we spoke about it she was like, “Normally people come in, and they’re so intimidated and blah, blah, blah.” And she was like, “And you just came straight out of the gate with choices.” And we were kind of laughing by the end of the scene, because, we were making power moves on each other. Like I’d be like, “Take a seat,” and she wouldn’t sit down. [laughter] And so I was like, “Ugh.” Really just threw me for six. So I knew that she had this hump on her back. You know, and that some point in time, it was kind of like -- there was going to be this big moment so I get to say, well like, “Take off your dress.” And it’s like, she’s like, “I’m not gonna do that.” You know, in the scene. And, we had fun.

J: That’s awesome. House of Cards. That was a weird experience, I would imagine.

C: Next.

J: Because you were actually already working on that -- we won’t go, well, we won’t go there. We’ll just go to the experience of making it. Because --

C: I was the last person to be… dangerously close to the clutches of Kevin Spacey. It's true. It's true. I mean, it's awkward, but... the man was a monster. He's a very talented actor, but he was not a very nice human being. And he was not a very generous professional. And it was messed up. Everything that was happening on that set. It was messed up. I mean what -- you know, they were holding it together. I'm not talking about anybody outside of Kevin Spacey and Kevin Spacey's actions. But at some point in time, you know, the needle’s going to have to move towards talking about complicity. And that's just the fact. And I had a great experience working with Robin. I loved working with Robin Wright. Robin Wright is one of my heroes. I mean, I had been watching House of Cards longer than I had been acting. And that was one of the first things, you know -- I wanted to be Claire Underwood. So, that was --

J: I loved that you wanted to be Claire, not Frank.

C: Yeah, because she’s so good. I mean, she’s so good. And she’s a genius.

J: And you had Diane and Greg Kinnear as your parents.

C: Diane Lane, oh my god. And Greg Kinnear. I had an amazing role. I mean, I -- we'd been shooting for three months. My role was very different. So when we came back to shoot that --

J: Just tell everybody -- you’d already been shooting for that long. Everything happened, he was fired. And then they had to take time to rewrite the script. And then you all had to come back.

C: And then we all had to come back.

J: And pick up the pieces.

C: We didn't have to come back, we chose to come back. And Robin was really a big part of that. And then we had to pick up the pieces. But, you know, it was a difficult process. I really wanted to be there, because it was -- it was this moment. It was supporting Robin, and it was really important. But as an actor, you know, it was one of the most challenging experiences of my life. Because here you are in an environment that feels fundamentally like it’s fallen apart. And your character has gone from being the arch-nemesis of the series to being taffeta. And nobody -- you know, everything is -- as it's going on around -- you know, this is to say, everyone on that show is phenomenal. The writers are some of the most exceptional writers in the world. Frank and Melissa as show-runners are exceptional. Robin Wright, you know, bow down. But that doesn't -- I can hold two things at one time. That it was one of the great honors of my life to be on House of Cards. You know? House of Cards. Ugh!

J: It’s known as the house that built Netflix.

C: The house that built Netflix. And at the same time hold in the other palm of my hand that it wasn't a great experience for me, and that's OK to say. In that it was very hard for me as an actor, and for the character. I mean it's like, you know -- I have a joke that is like, people talk about Duncan and what Duncan is doing more than Duncan is actually doing anything. “You gotta watch out for Duncan Shepherd.” “Yeah, well, where the fuck is he?” So, I’m gonna get in trouble for all of that.

J: We’ll tell everyone to turn off their tape recorders today, whenever they’re doing it.

C: The truth is that it was, you know -- I was happy to be a part of that moment and that movement, because hopefully things have shifted and changed. Because my opinion on it -- everyone is, you know I'm tired of this, I’m really tired of political correctness at the moment. And everyone stepping around on eggshells and nobody having an opinion, and everybody being very careful about what they say, in case the Twitter mob comes after them. And ugh. It just drives me crazy. This group-think at the moment drives me mental. And the truth is, it was it was wonderful to be a part of that experience, in that moment and what was happening, and to support Robin, and to stand behind it. But the needle now needs to move towards talking about complicity and the systems that are put in place to allow people like Kevin to do what Kevin was doing and he was doing it. And I’m OK to say it.

J: OK. I’m gonna open it up for questions --

C: Bold and unapologetic. [laughter]

J: Like I said, look that up in the dictionary, and it’s your face.

C: I’m absolutely going to get in trouble for that. But I don’t give a fuck, So…

J: All right. So who has a question for Cody?

Q1: Can you tell us anything about upcoming projects that you’re working on?

C: I can tell you absolutely nothing. But I can tell you that I am working on upcoming projects.

J: With Ryan Murphy?

C: I can’t say that. I can’t not say that. Maybe. Maybe, we'll see. I mean, the way Ryan works is very much like, you know a week out of what's going on. So we'll see if that works out. But you know, I would throw myself in front of a bullet for Ryan Murphy, so, you know, if he wants me to play a doorknob in a scene, I’ll play a doorknob.

J: But you have been doing writing and directing and stuff. Do you want to talk a little about, you know, some of your own projects?

C: Yeah, I love writing, and I love directing. I mean, directing a feature film had to take a backseat for the moment because, you know, first and foremost, what I love is acting, and to really shoot a feature film, and do what you want to do with it, and do it right is 18 months of your life. From, you know, pre-production to production to post-production to festivals to getting your mental sanity back in order. So I can't really afford at the moment -- well, I can, but I don't want to take 18 months off. I love acting. I love it. I mean, it's really you know --

I think we've reached a place, with artistry and with acting, that frightens me. Because what's begun to happen is that we've forgot that it's an art form, and it's become purely about entertainment, and what's happening in schools at the moment, what's happening around the world is that people don't grow up anymore -- You know, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” “Famous,” is the number one answer. Famous. It's not that much fun. It's tough. I mean, I’ve had things happen to me recently that are unimaginable, you know, my family being targeted. It's horrible. It’s not an end in and of itself; it's a byproduct of something, and I think that we've reached a time where there are so many drama schools and there are so many acting classes and there are so many -- but people don't know what they're going to learn anymore. They're going because they want to be somewhere that they see on the television, and I think it's really going to come from somewhere deep inside of you. And we’re starting to ask more and more, like, “What can I get out of this,” as opposed to, “What can I give?” You know? “What can I really give to this art form and to this craft?” And I love that with writing and directing, but if I’m going to give it, I need to give all of myself to it. I can't do it half-assed. And in the content wars that are going on at the moment, where it’s like, it’s OK to make something that’s absolutely trash, as long as millions of people are watching it. You know, it's a subversive act to make something that's really meaningful and to get really honest about what that is.

The reason I did Horror Story, for example, and was able to play the Antichrist was because I was ready to talk about evil, and what great evil is, and what great evil means, and how we get there, and who's right and who's wrong in that equation. In American [Crime] Story, we were talking about gay shame, and about homophobia and about a man who couldn't come to terms with himself, but had one final heroic act before he died, which was to be authentic. To face his murderer head-on to say, “It's over.” You know, “I know who I am now, and I'm gonna die for it.” People aren’t willing to die for anything anymore. And I don't mean, like, you know, physically, just physically. I mean metaphorically. I mean, like, what is your street value? When you walk into a bar, and all of the shit that you tell people, and all of the things that you say you are, fades away, and you actually have to be who you really are, what’s your street value? What do you have to offer? Because fame ain’t it, you know? There's enough famous people. Rant over. Next. [laughter]

J: All right, we’re gonna let this person here ask a question, who won the award for having driven the furtherest, 500 miles to be here today. Do you wanna take the microphone? OK, go ahead.

C: Everyone can hear.

Q2: Are you satisfied with how Michael's story ended in Horror Story? And if you're not, how would you want it this story arc to end?

C: I think that it's Ryan's story, and I'm there to service Ryan’s story. So, there are things that you may be thrilled with, things that you may not be thrilled with. But the thing about Michael’s ending that I love the most is that Michael Langdon dies as an innocent teenage boy, before we understand that he is the great evil that he has become. So what happens when you do that is you ask that question, “If you got to travel back in time would you kill baby Hitler?” Right? That's the question that's being asked in that scene. Would you do it? Would you leave him in the street? And there’s subtleties to that ending, which people don't necessarily recognize. The beauty of when Constance Langdon looks at the Murder House, when Michael asks her to drag him there to be with his family for all of time, and she looks down to Michael and she says, “Go to hell,” and she walks away. She doesn't say it with animosity; she understands the buck stops here, you know? With great suffering and great pain, because, remember, Constance kills herself, so it's actually a very tragic ending. And the ending that comes from that, with the Antichrist being reborn in another form, it's like, yeah, I'm going to stop the devil. And that's the statement about evil. It's always coming back. It's coming back; you've just got to decide when you pick up the sword and fight it, and whose, you know, which side of the field are you on. So, I don't question Ryan’s judgments. I just play them.

Q3: Cody, Katrina Cooper. Thanks, you’ve shared some really personal stuff with us about your childhood.

C: Did I? I try not to.

Q3: No, it’s terrific. I think it’s really inspiring for young people out there who might be going through tricky stuff themselves. I kinda have two questions relating to that. Number one, what advice do you have for young people who feel that they’re not fitting for whatever reason? I mean, what made you strong enough to get through that? And number two, for people like me -- a parent of kids or teachers or friends or whatever -- what can people do to support kids that feel like you felt?

J: It’s a great question.

C: How much time have we got?

J: Yeah, really. How much time do we have, by the way?

C: Who cares?

J: Is there someone here who can tell me?

C: OK, so I'm gonna answer this question, and I don’t mind. I will keep going until the sun comes up.

J: Someone kinda give me a wrap-up signal?

C: When we need it. So, the first question was, what advice would I give to somebody, you know, a younger person maybe like myself, maybe like you, who doesn't fit in. And my advice would be -- and how to deal with that. My advice would be: don't fit in. It's so boring to fit in. It’s so, it’s so banal. I mean, it is just, like, a boring life, when you fit in. But that's easy to say, because when you're young, especially when you're a very young teenager, and you don't fit in, and people target you for it, and you’re bullied, and you're called names, and you might even be physically hurt for it -- it doesn't feel like not fitting in is a good option.

But let me tell you this: every single person who ever got out of high school alive, and who is looking back on their life, always says, “Man, I wish I could just go back, knowing what I know now, and I do it all again.” Because you would really be like, “Fuck ‘em all.” You know, like, I wish I went to my year 12 prom wearing whatever I wanted to wear, you know, and like, I'm not gonna say the things that I would do. But really, you know, like the thing about fitting in is that the people who are driving that horse, the ones who are most popular, the ones who are the head of those groups, are losers. They're losers, I mean, it's so pathetic. I'm telling you now, you're gonna get to like 10 years outside of school, and if you've been bullied, and if you don't fit in, you have to work harder than everybody else, you have to suck up your feelings, you have to grow a thick skin, you have to get resilient, and you have to get on with it. And about 10 or 15 years from now, you know, you'll go back to your hometown, and you'll see them, and you'll write me a letter, and we'll talk.

It's not to say that I'm, you know, there's any sense of bitterness or what-not about that, it's just about -- listen, pressure makes diamonds. In hard times, really galvanize who you are and who you can be. And if you have the strength to get through them, if you have the conviction of your own moral compass, if you can find beauty within yourself and within the world, if you can survive it, you’re gonna thrive when you get out of school. Don't worry, school is such a short period of time. You're never going to see those people again. And if you do, good for you. But, chances are, you’re not going to see the people you were at school with ever again. And you've got to get on with your life. That's the thing about fitting in, right? You live your life for other people, so that other people feel comfortable. How boring is that? You know, it's really boring to fit in, so don't worry about it. Don't worry about if people like you or not. Lots of people hate me. I love it. [laughter]

J: Just the other part of that question, then we have to wrap up. What would you say to a parent?

C: That's a tough one, because for me, you know, parents do the best they can with the means that they have. I had to understand that about my parents. I had to go back and really be like, you know, they were doing the best they could. But I think that my advice to parents would be to mirror your child back to them, with love. To allow yourself the courage to be a mirror, and to understand that this human being that is in front of you is actually not you, is not and should not be the best parts of what you think life are, but the amalgamation of lessons that they're learning with your guidance. Because they're gonna go through it. They're gonna get hurt, they’re gonna fail. Miserably. It’s about --

[This is where the live video hit 1:00:00 and Instagram cut it off. If someone has the rest recorded, please let me know!] ((final 5 minutes transcripted by duncan-shepherd)) C [cont.]: Stand[ing] as a mirror to your child, if you can stand as a mirror to any person, you know the worst thing is when you’re talking to a person and they’re waiting for their opportunity to jump in and say what they wanna say or that you’re talking to a person because you need advice and you know the only reason they're giving you the advice that they’re giving you is because they’re too afraid to do that thing themselves. Or they wouldn't do it. It’s really about listening to what somebody is saying and being like huh I wouldn’t do that but why do you want to. Talk to me about that and how you feel about that? Because being witnessed and this is the important thing, being witnessed by somebody is one of the most powerful acts that we can experience and you can stand in front of somebody, open and vulnerable and authentic, and have them just say “yeah okay I see you”. And they’ll accept you. “I might not like it but that's you”. To me that's the most powerful act we have, I think. J: Oh Cody Fern, we see you. Sorry, that was the corniest way to end this. C: No, I like it!!! J: But I’m sure I speak for everyone in here with that we’re just so grateful that you opened up and shared so much of yourself with us today and on behalf of G’day USA, we’re just so happy to have you here with all the Aussies. C: Thank you so much! 

-------Again massive thank you and love to eakintata for the hard work and love she put into this. 

[gumnut-logic]

Gentle Rain: Epilogue

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part Twenty: Epilogue

Author: Gumnut

4 - 10 Mar 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 2553

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/OC, Gordon/Penelope, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline. 

Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: For @scribbles97 And here we are, the very end and epilogue :D Those of you who follow me on Tumblr will have already read the first Tale of Gentle Rain – I kinda jumped the gun and didn’t want to officially publish it until I had finished this fic…which is done now, so expect it in a day or two. Again, thank you ever so much to @scribbles97 who has helped me through this entire fic. Also thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom and @the-lazy-razorsharp who have also answered my frantic calls at various points in time – this fic was a nerve-wracker and I can be really insecure at times :D I would also like to give a massive thanks to all of you who have cheered me along the way. Your comments and feedback have kept me going. It makes it so much more purposeful to write if I know what I’m writing is being read and super bonus if it is being enjoyed. Thank you so, so much ::hugs you all madly:: I hope you enjoy this last little bit.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

This time I wonder what it feels like

To find the one in this life

The one we all dream of

But dreams just aren't enough

So I'll be waiting for the real thing

I'll know it by the feeling

The moment when we're meeting

Will play out like a scene straight off the silver screen

So I'll be holdin' my breath

Right up to the end

Until that moment when

I find the one that I'll spend forever with

'Cause nobody wants to be the last one there.

'Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares.

Someone to love with my life in their hands.

There's gotta be somebody for me like that.

'Cause nobody wants to go it on their own

And everyone wants to know they're not alone.

Somebody else that feels the same somewhere.

There's gotta be somebody for me out there.

Nickelback, Gotta Be Somebody

It was a perfect evening. Autumn was truly showing its colours with warm days and cool nights. A touch cool for him, the tropics made him soft for temperature extremes, but Em showed no such concern.

Virgil had ribbed him the entire trip, airlifting Scott’s Lamborghini from one country to another. Some fast talking and a bucket of money at the state government service point and the blue sports car hit the Perth highway network with Western Australian plates. Taking the day to familiarise himself with the city while Em finished up with some patients and he realised why Virgil so liked bringing his Harley onto the continent. So much sun, so much road. Perhaps he and Em could...he smiled to himself. One step at a time.

He picked her up at her apartment, eyes agog at the sight of his girl dressed in flowing deep blue satin. Her dark hair was gently curled, her lips blood red and her pale blue eyes smiling at him. He found it very hard not to smudge her makeup right there and then.

As it was, she grinned up at him and brushed the lipstick off his lips with her thumb. “You dress up very nicely.” And she was eyeing him very obviously. Her hands landed on his shoulders, soft through his jacket and she leant up and kissed him again.

Hmmm.

Very nice. His hands around her waist, soft material...warm skin. Oh god, the dress was backless. He deepened the kiss, his tongue finding hers, his fingers brushing across the curve of her back, slipping over that tantalising softness...drifting lower, slipping beneath fabric, beautiful, oh yes...pulling her closer, losing himself in her.

His hand trailed down her spine. Soft skin became rough and his fingertips stumbled over obvious scars.

He tensed, but hurried to cover.

Not subtle enough.

She broke off the kiss and shot him a questioning look. “Scott?”

“I have something for you.” He put everything into his smile.

It appeared to work.

“What are you up to, fly-boy?”

A grin and he led her to the car.

“A lamborghini? A blue lamborghini?”

He snorted. “I guess, if you really want it, you can have it, but no...” He opened the car door and, reaching in, pulled out a single red rose. “According to Virgil, this is something a prospective boyfriend gives a prospective girlfriend on their first date.”

Em was smiling enough for her eyes to sparkle with it. “Virgil gives great advice.” She took it gently from his hand and smelt the opening bud. “Lovely.” Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she purred, “You know, I should kiss you thank you, but at this rate we are going to spend the entire date on the sidewalk outside of my apartment.”

A grin. “Sounds good to me.” He brushed a stray hair from her forehead and replaced it with his lips.

She leant into him. “Oh, you big distraction.” But she slipped her hands under his jacket and around his ribs, and again, he found himself kissing her. His heart-rate spiked and he became extremely aware that if he didn’t stop enjoying himself so much, they would end up somewhere much less likely to serve food.

He wanted to do this right.

God, he wanted to do this right.

Breaking off the kiss, he smiled down at her. “You are rather distracting yourself.” He curled her hair behind one of her ears. “Truly beautiful, Emaline.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted as if to say something, but closed instead, smiling, somewhat shyly. She fiddled with his jacket collar. “You know how to sweet talk a lady, fly-boy.”

He lowered his voice. “I know how to tell the truth.” 

Another smile and she turned slightly, linking her arm in his. “So, you ready to show a girl a good time?”

A grin. “Oh, most definitely. Your limo awaits.” He gestured towards the Lambo. A step and he opened the door for her.

“Why, thank you, kind sir.” Her hoverjets whirred as she lowered herself to the level of the seat and, disengaging her harness, levered herself into the car. It was awkward and Scott hovered a little to make sure she didn’t slip. “You okay?”

“Never ridden in a sports car before.” She grinned up at him and straightened her skirt. “This thing got a boot?”

“Boot?” He blinked.

She rolled her eyes. “A trunk?”

“Oh. Oh, sure.”

A flick of her palm controls and the hoverscoot rose up in front of him. “Grab it.”

He did as he was told and another flick of her fingers and the jets disengaged, the ‘scoot falling into his grip. It was surprisingly light.

He closed her door gently and walking to the front of the car, stashed the ‘scoot in the trunk, before jumping into the driver’s seat.

“Ready?”

She was fiddling with an extra harness, attaching it to her seatbelt. “Sorry, I need to be a little more secure.” A clip around the lap belt and she straightened. “There. Now, fly-boy, let’s see what this gorgeous machine can do.”

A laugh, and he started the engine. A good throaty roar and he pulled out onto the road. “Would you like to go for a bit of spin before dinner?”

“I hear rumour you like fast things.”

“That is no rumour.”

“Then let her rip.”

So he did. Grabbing the nearest freeway, he opened her up as far as the speed limit would allow. He headed for the distant hills, looking for some nice curves in the road to wrap her around. Em appeared to be enjoying every minute of it. As the sun headed towards the horizon, they disappeared into eucalypt forest, leaving the freeways behind. The long shadows of trees sped over the hood of the car like a strobing light.

“How long have you had this car?” Her question broke the rumbling silence of the last thirty kilometres.

“A few years. Gordon bought his, followed by Virgil.” He shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Unfortunately, I haven’t had much of a chance to take her out.”

A half smile out the corner of his eye. “Well, hopefully you will get more time now.” She reached over and put her hand on his thigh. Her finger began rubbing circles on his pant leg.

His hand drifted to hers, wrapping her fingers in his. “What do you feel like for dinner? Any dining preferences?”

“Anywhere with you will do.”

He grinned. “So McDonalds in a carpark do the job?”

“Hah! Upgrade to fish and chips and a scenic lookout and you’re on.”

A blink. “Actually that doesn’t sound too bad.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d parked a car and just sat to look at a view. “But this is our first date, I want it to be memorable.”

“Then fish and chips it is.”

And she meant it. Before he knew it, she had him pulling to the side of the road in front of a mom and pop shop in some tiny wannabe town and he was ordering a meal that cost less than one of Virgil’s fancy coffees.

Two sodas and a hot dinner wrapped in butcher’s paper. Em pulled up the location of the nearest lookout and they were parked, just in time to see the sun slip below the horizon.

The smell of hot fries permeated the car and set his mouth watering.

“They are not fries. They’re chips.”

“Look like fries to me.”

“Well, they’re not.” And she whacked him on the nose with one.

“Hey!” She giggled as he wiped the salt off his face. “You’re asking for it, young lady.”

“Ooh, asking for what?”

“Keep doing that and you might find out.” He bit into a chip and it had the perfect crunch followed by light and fluffy potato inside. “These are delicious.”

The lookout was deserted and as the sun disappeared, it grew dark and the city in the distance lit up in the yellows, white and oranges of street lighting, with the central business district standing bright as if a centre piece to the whole panorama.

“There is something about looking down at a city at night. All those lights, a home, a house, a building, a street lamp. All defying the darkness, outlining where we’ve spread, our impact on our environment, our determination.”

“I should take you up to Thunderbird Five and let John show you his view.”

She was staring at him. “Into space?”

He smiled. “Yes, into space.” A sigh. “Sometimes I forget that some things we do are not every day things.”

“The Tracys don’t do ‘average’.”

“What?” It came out as a half laugh.

“Kayo told me that the day I first arrived on Tracy Island. I have to say, she’s got it right.”

“I hope you don’t hold that against us.”

“Against you? No. You just have a little magic at your fingertips.”

“Magic.”

“Yes, magic.” She reached out and touched his face. “In more ways than one.” Her smile was gentle.

“Heh.” He couldn’t help it, he blushed.

That smile turned into a grin. “And here I thought only your grandmother could manage that.”

He straightened a little. “What can I say? You have your ways.” He shoved another chip into his mouth and guzzled a little of his drink.

“There is no need to be embarrassed.”

“Not embarrassed.”

An arched eyebrow, but she left it, eating a chip of her own.

The meal passed pleasantly, and soon the butchers paper was scrunched up and Scott climbed out of the car to deposit it in the nearby public trash bin. The air was a touch chilly, but oddly refreshing. Walking around to Em’s side of the car, he opened her door. “Would you like to do a little stargazing?”

She grinned. “I can do that from here.” Her expression turned all starstruck and obviously targeted him.

“Oh, really?” He struck an alluring pose.

Em burst out laughing. “Okay, perhaps you are right. Let us gaze at a galaxy of burning balls of gas.”

“Hey!” But he was grinning as much as she and as Em unfastened her harness and seatbelt, he grabbed her ‘scoot from the ‘boot’. A little shuffling and the occasional mutter and his girl was mobile again.

He took her hand in his.

“I like your hands.”

Scott startled. “What?”

“They’re warm and your fingers are so long and elegant.” Both of hers wrapped around his right hand, rubbing it a little. “And they were the first part of you that reached for me.” She kissed his middle fingertip.

He couldn’t help but smile. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Just...” How could he explain it? She affected him. Churned something inside. Made him...feel good. He reached up his other hand, sliding his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head. Bending down, he kissed her again. She responded immediately, letting him in, moving closer until she was in his arms, her body pressed up hard against him. She was just...

She was smart. Different smart to him, but smart, quick, able to keep him on his toes.

She was strong. She could kick his ass. She took no shit and could give as good as she got, if not better.

She was beautiful. Her smile caught him and set his heart beating harder than it ever had. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair. 

He wanted her.

Oh, god, he wanted her.

And she loved him.

He broke off the kiss, staring into her pale eyes. “I love you.” It was a revelation, but not. The words just simply existed and he knew them to be true. She was different from anyone else. She was...

She was Em.

And she was staring back up at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted.

She was kissing him again, reaching up and pulling him down. A whir of hoverjets and she was suddenly at his height, kissing him urgently, her hands in his hair, her lips on his and he couldn’t help but respond.

He held her. He kissed her. He loved her.

And everything just seemed right.

-o-o-o-

The beep was soft, barely loud enough to hear, but it woke Kayo without a problem. It was designed to do that.

Beside her, Virgil slept on, finally on his stomach. She took just an extra moment to appreciate him, barely visible in the dark, his broad and bare shoulders once again bunched up as he hugged his pillow. He was breathing softly.

She resisted reaching out to touch him and slipped from the bed instead, leaving the room silently.

“Yes, John?”

“I’m not calling Virgil out, I just need some information, I promise.”

Kayo sighed. “John, I owe you an apology.”

“What?”

“You got the raw end of everything during recent events and I know I’m partly to blame. I am sorry, it shouldn’t be that way, and I apologise.”

The line was silent a moment, then a quiet, “Apology accepted” wandered down from orbit.

The silence returned.

“John?”

“Kayo, you used one of Virgil’s trackers for Em’s hoverscoot.”

“Yes, but I changed the flag so you could see it was different.”

“But not everyone would know that. It was still on the same frequency.”

She blinked and it all came together in her head. “You think someone has hacked our tracker system. You think they were after Virgil?!” She raised her voice involuntarily and had to bite her lip to stop saying more.

“Kayo, it is inconclusive. Why bomb the bridge? If someone was after Virgil, why approach it like that? And it is very obvious that Em is not Virgil. Eyes on target would reveal that immediately. No, I think there is more to this.”

“I want the trackers scrubbed. Speak to Brains. I want security upgrades on all our networks. Find the hole and plug it.”

“Kayo-“

“Including the subcutaneous.”

“Kayo-“

“John-“ A pair of large hands slid around her waist and drew her up against an equally large and warm chest. A kiss at the base of her neck.

Warm breath.

His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Kay? What’s wrong?”

“John, do it. I’ll be there momentarily.” She killed her comms and, turning in his arms, looked up into his beautiful brown eyes. They were heavy-lidded and frowning with a little worry for her. She forced a smile. “Not much. John discovered a problem with our trackers. I need to go up and help him with a system overhaul.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Security is security.” She reached up and placed her hand on the side of his face. He leant into her touch. “Go back to bed, love. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He drew her into a hug, gently kissing her. “Will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. Go back to sleep.” She turned his dopey figure back in the direction of the bedroom and he obeyed reluctantly.

Grabbing her uniform, Kayo shoved it on, anger in every movement, mentally cursing whoever was responsible.

Well, they would regret it.

No-one threatened her family and lived.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[overbakedone]

1

this is the first time i've ever started writing my thoughts and feelings anywhere before. this is not easy.

instead of writing things and then deleting it all because its not good enough or it sounds stupid i'm just going to write it now and stop backspacing. i guess i should start with where i am in life right now so there is some perspective.

im 25, im a bakers apprentice, i live with my parents, i have a girlfriend, lets call her ‘C’ who for the first time feels right to me despite everything, i barely have any friends, they don't ever want to see me, i don't have much time in my life right now, i work all night and struggle to fit sleep into my schedule. but things are really the best they have ever been for me. i just started an AFL 9′s competition, weird i usually have no confidence going into these things and will either quit after the first practice or not even show up, i really kinda enjoyed it and am excited for next week.

i've wanted to start writing anything for a few months now, i guess now i have some time. time is so fucked up, i wish there was more of it, i wish i could sleep without wasting my day, i wish i didn't have to compromise sleep for everything but i do, i guess its part of being a baker, its a job i am loving and i think i've found my life passion but it has its ups and downs. my partner C expects a lot of my time i guess, she can be very needy at times, demanding almost, sometimes i feel pressured by her to sacrifice my sleep, personal plans and hobbies and interests for her, but i know what she feels, she wants the same thing i do. she has problems making friends, or keeping friends, she feels isolated and alone, and she wants my companionship, and i want that too and despite anything i feel in the moment i always feel happy about her at the end of the day.

i should be grateful for the relationship i am in right now, i really should be grateful for a lot of stuff, my parents for allowing me to stay here still, being so supportive and also allowing and accepting of me and really tolerant of the shit i do. ok so i do smoke week every day right so that's already something to do at home that's difficult, i'm pretty sure they know and don't care or even agree that my life has been better since i started smoking, fuck i used to be on antidepressants, i took one every day at a certain time, it made me feel a bit better, ok sounds just like smoking right, expect when i didn't take this pill i got nausea, headaches, severe episodes of depression, i couldn't eat my appetite was so fucked up i was eating one meal a day and it was like a piece of bread or takeaway food. since the smoking started i've found some actual passion in life, i don't feel like a useless number anymore i guess.

one of the things on my mind always is my friends, since i was in highschool i havent really had a group of friends, i feel like i am a social person but then when it comes to it i feel like i just get burned. a lot of my old friends turned out to be secretly hating me and not wanting me around, some sort of pity friendship, i was an asshole in my time and honestly was not a good friend myself, do you pay for the dumb shit you do as a teenager, the people you fuck over go from your life completely yet new people you meet do the same things to you like they know. i had/have a long term best friend, J, we had been mates for years, we worked at my old job dominoes together for a bit, and kinda hung out a few times, but not until we got into PC gaming together did we form a bond. after that we would chat every day, play games together, watch the footy together, go places even though he lived across the city from me. one thing that changed massively in my life was i quit drinking alcohol, and then i felt like all my friends both disagree with my choice and resent me for it, like for some reason i have to take the same drugs they are taking at that time to be their friends. so J has just grown more and more distant, i get that we are older now, we both have partners, jobs that take a lot of our time, but then when we hang out or talk he seems disinterested, more interested with his friends that i introduced him to (from our discord server) and has seemingly replaced me, none of these guys i really like at all, in fact the only one of the new group i like is the one girl in it because she actually has interesting things to say.

fuck that was a paragraph, i guess i should talk about alcohol.

alcohol has fucked up my life, i cant repair the mistakes and stupid things i did while drinking alcohol, so they are there, i guess its just talking about it left. to start off, when i drink alcohol i have a hard time finding my limit, i feel like i swing from nothing to completely blacked out, puking, sobbing and basically hating myself very quick, i feel sick for days after drinking, barely able to eat, leave bed, move, i feel so nauseous and tired, its so fucked up what it does to your body, but oh your mind is even worse. i've broken off relationships, cheated, threatened people, gotten into fights, brawls, got my arm broken, hurt myself repeatedly, gotten arrested and a criminal record that may prevent me from going to canada next year, and is currently delaying booking flights, ive missed work, shown up drunk same clothes no shower to work, but the main thing that alcohol does to me is makes me sad. alcohol makes me so fucking sad, it makes me reach into the deepest pits i can think of and brings out all the emotions that are in there, my ex being the main one. every time i used to drink id think of her, call her, text her, go on her facebook, look up her instagram her twitter, fuck it drive my car to her house to see if her cars there like that does anything or means anything just fucking alcohol is so stupid. i never want to feel like that again, i never want to sabotage my life, sabotage and self destruct my relationships, but i guess losing my friends is the thing i have to take in consideration. australia is a fucked up place, where drinking heavily is the social norm and if you don't get fucked up or even have a beer with mates you're a loser.

i just want a deep connection with my friends. when i was in newcastle with my partner, i  met her friends there that she had been living with, despite the fucked up things that happened to her there, she lost a lot of friends herself and a long time friend, had trouble finding new ones, trouble fitting in, the friends she had there were the most honest and truly welcoming, connecting people ive met, and i miss that. i miss having a friend you can just, go over to their place, sit around for 3-4 hours talking shit, laughing, listening to music, relaxing and sharing stories and shit. weird that people can have such an effect on you in a short time. the life i live here is full of making plans, only for them to be cancelled, inviting friends over, for nobody to show up, cancelled plans all the fucking time, i've never been asked to just come over and chill, never its always some group thing that i'm invited to as well. i even try talking to them about this, i told a group of girl friends i have, i miss you all and haven't seen you in so long, we need to have a casual hangout, and the message was almost completely ignored, i asked them all to come to mind to watch the grand final, the house was free, i got a big projector screen, big comfy couch, live central right in the middle of everyone, nobody even replied or brought it up again, yet the second someone else that lives in the far corners of perth brought it up everyone started chatting about their plan to go. so if that's not my friends making it obvious they don't want to see me, they only include me then thats fucked up. i don't know what to say, this happens all the time, my 21st birthday i invited 65 people, and less than 15 people showed up. its hard to keep trying, always trying, i always try to make social events, i always ask friends what they are doing, when they can see me, make plans, they get cancelled, they are busy, they say they're coming then don't show up, most of the time i never hear a word too, they just dont show and don't even apologize, is that a fair thing to do, yeah sometimes i dont go to my friends events, i'm too fucking tired or just don't feel like going, somethings come up, i tell them straight away i cant make it i'm sorry this has come up, yet i don't get the same courtesy.

am i an unlikable person

the guys at work seem to like me, so i started a baking apprenticeship, basically i started watching great british bake off and picked it up as a hobby, making cakes and stuff, actually i should go back. so i used to work in some shitty small software company in the city, 9-5, peak hour traffic, office drama, workplace bullies, understaffed, overworked, red tape and bullshit everywhere, i quit after 2.5 years for mental health reasons, i made a lot of money but had to move on, so i spent a year off , it was only supposed to be a few months, go on a holiday road trip with my then partner, S, she broke up with me via a text message right after eagles lost to melbourne at home, basically the footy game was more disappointing, we had a shit relationship, i think i resented her, i cheated on her, yeah i'm an awful person and deserve everything, she was an emotionally manipulative person, terrified of her own body and sex, tried to dominate my life and change me, im glad we broke up. so i stayed unemployed for a long time, over a year, barely looking, until i found this baking apprenticeship, not only did i apply for the job and write a completely custom cover letter (im so fucking lazy i usually close a job application the second it requires anything more than an apply button) AND i called back a few weeks later when i heard nothing, well turns out that call landed me the job, the apprentice they hired instead of me was useless, had no passion and was a slow worker. so i got the job, and basically have been killing it ever since, i get a lot of praise at work (lots of criticism too) baking is one of those things that takes time, its all about time, so i got a lot to learn but i am actually confident once in my life, holy shit i have a job i like and am good at. is this the dream?> lol 

so today i started writing my feelings down, and its kinda felt good, but i'm exhausted now, and my fingers hurt, so this is the end of my first post, i hope nobody reads it, its really just for me but i don't know. 

thanks for listening   i guess 

[kateahontas]

JET Program Final Mission

Just a warning that this post is horrifically sappy. Please comment the amount of times you cringed or rolled your eyes and I'll eat a mint chocolate flavoured product for each one.

Matt sent the modems back to Softbank today, so the internet in our apartment is long-gone and that is a real occurrence to cement all the happenings right now.

JET Program Final Mission was on Saturday night. It was a great success in that it was a beautiful time, but it really sucked in terms of having to be a farewell party, meaning that we will be leaving the country and the date is approaching too quickly. 

The party was in a fancy hotel in Tachikawa and had a much too expensive price of 7,000 yen per person. We had absolutely no problem with people not being able to justify coming because of the price. A few non-English teachers from my school were present (teachers being present from my school at all that aren’t Kenichi is a huge thing in itself) and that made me tear up, because who knew you could mean anything when you often feel like you don’t?

Matt and I were officially announced and walked into a room of our pals standing and applauding. We were greeted by life-size print-outs of ourselves from our Australian wedding, who we of course got photos with part-way through the celebrations. We were shown to our seats and Party Master gave a few words. He is always self-appointed MC, and it’s definitely the most fitting. Matt and I had to give a speech in Japanese that we were not even secretly terrified about. It’s really difficult to articulate feelings to these people in English, and even more difficult to do it in Japanese. We did a lot of tag-teaming, involving giving messages directed at our schools. I said a chunk about Kenichi, and that was the only part I asked for assistance from a Japanese person for. I found a really fitting sentence in Japanese about having a telepathic relationship with someone, but I was unsure of the nuance. My chosen Japanese pal to lend me assistance was Miki, who was also present at the party. She has been so good to me over the years and speaks English pretty much fluently despite never having studied or lived abroad. Also, her children are adorable and her husband works at Matt’s school, so we’re all meant to be. She helped me in making the sentences a bit more coherent. It got a really great reaction at the party, so I was relieved.

Kenichi had told me the day before of the table Matt and I would be sitting at. Kenichi, in true Kenichi style, seated me next to him. Before we even made our speech, we were sitting at the table taking in the scenes and Kenichi turned to me and said “I can’t imagine my life without you” and that was really the beginning of the end for me personally. Kenichi drank throughout the night to try and deal with his emotions (which he has A LOT of) and it didn’t work at all. He became more emotional and was pretty much bursting into tears any time something happened.

There was a screen located to the right of the stage, and while the food was being brought out, a short presentation of our three years in Japan played. It was edited by a teacher from Matt’s school who has basically given her life to us. It featured all the photos we gave to Party Master a few weeks back, a million photos from our Japanese wedding party and also photos from our Australian wedding. The food started coming out and Kenichi made a quick toast so everyone could drink as much as possible. 

Kenichi had mentioned to me a few weeks earlier that he was preparing for some kind of performance. I assumed that a few teachers would do the same thing, but that was not the case. He presented a speech that contained four separate stories about our lives together while being backed on piano by another English teacher from my school (who I did not know even had such a talent?) The speech was in Japanese, but we are being promised copies of it in both Japanese and English. 

The first story was the story of the purple hair. About two and a half months before we came on JET, I had my hair dyed bright pink and purple. I always obviously had the intention of changing it before Japan (and actually only found out I had been accepted into the program the morning of the day I had my hair dyed). I worked at a Steiner school with the crazy hair, so nobody cared. ANYWAY, I entirely blame Ben for the story of the purple hair. He started messaging me a few months before we came to Japan (when my hair was bright and popping) and he told Kenichi about it EVEN THOUGH I had conveyed to him my full intentions to dye it brown before coming to Japan (because I am not an idiot). Kenichi has revealed to me on a few occasions that he was terrified to meet me, and it was exacerbated by me having purple hair. He thought he would have to tell me that I would not be able to show up to my school like that. He said he even practiced telling me in a stern voice (before he met me) to dye my hair brown. I imagine he practiced in front of a mirror, because that makes me do a weird side-smile.

The second story was the story of Otosan. Otosan is “father” in Japanese, but for the purpose of this story, we are referring to Otosan, the lovable hound who is the face of the Japanese phone company, Softbank. I needed a phone contract with Softbank, because of how deep my love for Otosan ran, even though I knew nothing about him. In our first week of being in Japan, Kenichi took us to the Softbank store in Tachikawa to get us both phone contracts. It took three hours and once I started working at my school, it didn’t take me long to realise that that kind of time is really precious for someone who works as much as Kenichi. Kenichi told the person signing us up at Softbank that I loved the pupper that was the face of their company, so they gave us a stuffed toy of Otosan that speaks in Japanese when you press his tail. We still have it and I will never forget such a gesture by a man who was probably properly flustered with us at the time, but never showed it.

The third story is the ongoing story of how Matthew knows everything. Kenichi was telling us about a Japanese celebrity once when we went out for dinner with him, and Matthew already knew who it was. This particular story isn’t so impressive. I believe the story of Matt having to reprogram the Rakuten Mobile page so that I could sign up with them is more impressive. Last week, Kenichi asked if I knew where a place was that is related to moving out stuff we have to do. I said “Matthew knows. He knows everything” and Kenichi said “ああ！さすがマシュー！" Which is just like “as expected, Matthew genius’d again”. I Kenichi would marry Matt if it were allowed.

The final story was the story about Kenichi’s birthday last year and Christmas. It took me a really long time to get to the point in our friendship where Kenichi invited us to his house. I tried really hard for a long time, thought that I was probably being a pushy jerk and then I backed off a bit, and Kenichi would be the one to initiate hangs, which was a huge break-through for me. We had already been to his house at least once before his birthday. His birthday party first took place at Kenichi’s favourite restaurant close to his house. Matt, myself and a few other teachers from my school (one an ex-teacher) were all there. We later went to Kenichi’s house where he showed off his Google Home and the cake was brought out. Matt helped Kenichi cut his cake and then I fed him his first bite of cake using a huge spoon and getting it everywhere. Then, everyone else also fed Kenichi one bite of cake each. We later found out that this isn’t normal for Japanese peoples’ birthdays. On Christmas eve last year, Kenichi invited Matt, myself and some other pals to a community centre that his parents run to make udon. We made udon noodles from scratch, cooked them, ate them, did some craft and had a really good time. Then on the way home, Kenichi took us to a hill nearby that had an amazing view of the entire area and we all hung out there for a bit. It was perfect at the time, because we really wanted to be in Australia for Christmas and we couldn’t, but we still got to spend it with our family anyway.

Finally, Kenichi broke into song for a bit for the last part of his performance, but I was already crying at that point.

Some time after his speech, Kenichi and I were talking at the table about all the times we’ve had. He said “there is another thing I remember clearly” and he went on to mention the night that Matt had to fly back to Australia to be with his mum. We had just spent Christmas in Perth, and had flown back to Tokyo the day before. Matt got a message from his brother saying that Matt’s mum had taken a turn for the worse, and things didn’t look so good. We were able to get Matt on a plane the following morning, but I had to stay here. We ended up apart for three weeks, then I went back to Perth for our wedding. The day after our wedding, I flew back to Japan alone to spend another three weeks away from Matt. On that first night, when Matt had just left to be with his mum, I was sitting on the couch in my pyjamas watching Gilmore Girls and I had just eaten avocado toast for dinner. I got a phone call from Kenichi who said “what are you doing? Come and meet me at a cafe in Tachikawa.” I got dressed and met him there about half an hour later. We spent three or four hours together talking about stuff and practicing Japanese and English. He said to me “this is going to be the hardest night for you and you shouldn’t be alone”. That whole period of time was unbelievably shit. I look back on it and I have no idea how I managed to function and go to work and be a person. When Kenichi brought that up at the party, I couldn’t even. I said to him “you saved me that night” and I told him how I don’t even know where the strength came from that got me through that. He said “you know that I have trouble just calling people up like that and asking them to hang out. I just don’t do it. I knew that you needed me that night” and the whole exchange is honestly going to be the thing that makes it impossible to get on the plane.

The food was fancy and tasty and difficult to eat consistently because we had to make the rounds. I tried to let all the teachers from my school know that it meant a whole few truckloads of existence that they attended. I hope they do know, because it’s true. 

I saw Miyo, a beautiful human who works in the office at Matt’s school for the last time, and it was so heartbreaking for the two of us that we just had to walk away from each other.

We were presented with a cake that had a beautiful chocolate message on it authored by Party Master. A retired teacher from Matt’s school who is a beautiful soul came up and gave us two pictures that he had painted the night before. One was of Matt’s school building, and the other was of the cafeteria at Matt’s school. They look amazing and they are framed and he said “never forget our school”. 

Kenichi and Kosuke presented us both with bouquets of flowers and some other people showered us in gifts. Cake was eaten, photos were taken and I only got to consume two alcoholic beverages. We gave our final speech and then it was time for the second party at everyone’s favourite sports themed karaoke place: BASEBALL.

Lico rocked up part-way through this party and she said “I want to sing Korn with you” we were like “you want to what?!” and it turned out she actually meant Natalie Imbruglia’s “Torn”. We made dreams come true. We are going to karaoke with Lico and Kenichi on Sunday, so we have decided to show her some Korn then.

Kenichi and I sang Don’t Look Back in Anger because it’s our thing and he said “this is the second last time we’ll sing this” so the finale is definitely happening on Sunday! 

To be frank, it was too much and I would say I don’t deserve what these people do. Other feedback from other JETs confirms things we always thought were true: no other schools have a Party Master or a Kenichi or a Lico and I wonder about the inner workings of the universe and how your outfits might not always match, but I am sure you don’t look as shit as you think you do.

We are allowed a few repeats on Friday as Matt’s school is having their end of term party, and we are very much there and on Sunday too at karaoke.

[audible--silence]

Words from the north - the whole unedited note from my phone

//

Words from the north

Watching the sunset over the Cape range tunes. A light yellow through to dark blue gradient swings through the sky with a string of Aqua running down the centre a single star sits above as a full moon shines lightening up the town of Exmouth after a day spent in the sun in the sand

-

I am convinced the only difference between the average joe and a poet is one pays attention to life, understands the dictionary and writes things down

-

From the one day the conditions called for hoodies and cameras rather than wetsuits and surfboards

-

Smelling like mosquito spray, salt water and sweat is a way of life

-

Surf forecast up here looks like sitting in SoSo looking out the window staring at a palm tree to figure out what the wind is doing and asking ya mates that walk in the door “hows the surf?”

-

You know you’re doing something right when you start feeling guilty for all the fun you’re having

-

And I would’ve gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for you meddling kooks

-

From that one time we thought itd be a good time to be homeless together for a week. By the end of it we were somewhere between brothers, lovers and mortal enemies all at once

#fucktony

#whothefuckistony

-

Sea’s of red dirt and shrubs for hours and hours and hours on end

-

Karijini

The sound of birds chirping, the wind rustling through the tall grass and the camp fire crackling away as the sun hides away behind the towering mountains im front of us. Shades of purple, red and yellow take over from the normal red, green and blue that make up the scene. I relax into a camp chair as twilight starts to take over. Indi is editing photos while Noems takes charge of dinner. Despite many attempts at offering help, we were both benched from kitchen duties. Another day of adventure comes to a close and the contentment sets in alongside the anticipation of what tomorrow may hold

-

Worth the wakeup knock on the car at 4am in the freezing cold

Worth the bitter windchills knocking our balance on the slippery rocky path up in the dark

Worth racing the sun to the top of the mountain

Worth choosing between having my fingers warm or my camera in my hand

Worth struggling to see by the light of a phone torch

Worth not feeling my fingers for two hours

Worth it for the golden yellow and blue light peeling over the horizon

Worth it for the feeling of being awake and alive before the sun is up

Worth it for the view of the cliffs side

Worth it for seeing the wind blasting trees

Worth it for the view from the top

Worth it for the oranges on the way down

Worth it for the tunes and singalongs

Worth it for the smoked salmon croissants

Worth it for the snacks and the beers in the carpark

-

But first, let me check my engine oil 🤙

-

You can tell where all our money went when you look at us, none of it went into shoes

-

At a fucked up level though thats just evolution. The strongest survive (colonialism)

-

“But what are ya gonna do with that information though? Just make your own meaning and chase that” (on the topic of the meaning of life)

-

The ritual of fires every evening after a days adventure and then every morning to boil the water for our coffee before we go again

-

The grit that came off my skin

The knots that became of my hair

The red dust that washed off me as I stepped into the first bit of hot water id felt in what felt like a very long time

The black under my finger nails

The red and yellow stains on my hands that the soap didnt wash off.

The holes in my shorts, tshirts and sweater

The red stains on my towel after drying my face

The rash on my face after shaving

-

Tilting your head back in ya camp chair to escape the heat of the roaring campfire and getting a glimpse at the sky absolutely glowing with stars was a constant reminder of how fucking good we’d got it

-

And you say sheeeeeesh

nice garyyyy

-

“Oi dad, what are ya doin?”

“25 ak47’s and a piece of plywood, thats what im doin”

-

Im in full travel mode now. All i think about is whens my next meal, when do i have work and hows the surf. Also wheres my weed.”

-

This post brought to you by…

-

All my friends do lots of drugs

-

“Ya livin the dream ya lucky shit” - taes dad, post

surf

-

An observation about all the people you see on social media who you idolize in some capacity: when you meet them in real life, no matter how much idolization or importance you think they carry, when you meet them in person, they all still behave like normal people

-

I’ve completely left behind my old way of life.

I’ve forgotten what its like to go to a bar.

To dress cool.

To think about what im wearing.

To think about impressing people.

To think about who to see.

To think about what event to choose from.

I’ve forgotten what its like to look up at tall buildings.

To see lots of concrete.

To walk past unfamiliar faces that dont smile when you walk past them.

To order coffee in a takeaway cup.

To eat nice food.

To see my friends at pica bar for drinks at the last minute plan

-

There came a time about two months in where i began to get over it all.

Doing dishes with a water bottle and a tea towel that smelt like smoke. Sitting in the drivers seat on your phone, tired because you dont want to have to brush your teeth with a water bottle and climb like a contortionist into your car’s bed every night. Sick of having to plan when i want to take a shit. Sick of having to set up and pack down my kitchen every time i want a coffee or some lunch.

Sick of not having anywhere to be but knowing im in one of the most beautiful places in the world and feeling a burning pressure to see it all. Sick of having to buy ice every two days

Sick of emptying water from my esky

Sick of laundromats and planning how long I’ll last on a single outfit

Sick of worrying if im spending too much time sitting in the cafe

Sick of being the tag along in everybody else’s group of mates

Sick of drinking beer every shift

-

As time goes by, you learn the intricacies of a place. Where all the rocks are on the track to the camp. Who in the carpark not to wave at and who to have a chat to. Where and when to be to get a free drink. How to steal a shower. When

-

More and more i find while living out of my car thst routine is important. Something to ground you. For me, its making coffee out of the car, no matter how inconvenient it is. Before inevitably giving up and buying an oat flatty at soso. - talk more about habits

-

Some things that dont grow old:

Seeing the surf going off

Seeing familiar faces out and about

Turtles next to you in the water

Whales breaching in the distance

The moon rising over the ocean or the ranges

The sky full of stars when the moon doesn’t shine

The sun and the warmth no matter the season

Town beach hangs with good crew

The feeling of a shower after a few days of salt water

The people at work

The chats at work

Free beer at work

The life in the oceans

The vibe of fun

Never knowing where you’re gonna end up after you wake up

-

Whatd you see when you nearly died?

A big pair of tittys and a snickers bar

-

The moon rises in front of me for the third night in a row. I watch it from my car, a leftover slice of pizza from work in one hand and my phone in the other. Im one of the very few people lucky enough to witness this insanely beautiful sight and yet it feels in this moment it feels unextraordinary. How spoilt with wonder must you be for this to feel normal. The same goes for this whole place. This is paradise and right now this is home. This is standard. Only when I get back to Perth and am able to look back with the 20/20 vision that is hindsight and realize just how special it all was.

-

I wish I was more conscious at the hour of 6am, snug in my bed, parked in the bush as the sun rises over the bay in front of me. An explosion of pink and gold dominates the sky, shining through the bushes and the trees around me. The sound of the waves crashing behind the birds chirping. An easterly wind rustles lightly through the trees. I’m so sure it’s beautiful. If only I was awake to take it all in.

Instead, i roll over and try and escape the golden light for a minute or two more.

-

Hey siri play lots of nothing by spacey jane

-

Sometimes Id like not to feel like a fugitive when i take a shower, other times, the stars as my landlord is a pretty good deal

-

Its not a mistake its a decision

-

Maker of questionable decisions

-

I dont wanna face this day for fear of what will come. For I know how good it can be, and I know the fuckery that this day holds

-

Holy fuck thats a lot of cars

Yeah its cos nobody fuckin lives anywhere

-

To be fair I’d stalk you

-

A happy change of plans

Like all good road trips, this one started out with unfortunate circumstance, poor planning and a significant lack of caution. We planned for months to leave WA and drive across the nullabor, up through NSW and into QLD and at the 11th hour, three days before we were due to leave, we find out that covid has closed the borders. Again.

So with a house I had already moved out of, a plan in shambles on behalf of a big bad virus, and a car all prepped and ready to leave, we did the only reasonable thing to do. Changed course by a few thousand km’s and headed north with no idea what we would do, where we would sleep, what we would eat, where we would stay, who we would hang with and where we would surf.

Our first day saw lots of last minute preparations, plenty of driving to all manner of songs and podcasts from everything to the worlds dumbest grifters to Australian alcoholics talking about orgasms. I shut the door on 25 Chatham Road for the last time. We drove through familiar and unfamiliar roads. Memories of standing on the side of these very roads ripe in my mind. Except this time, with my whole life in the backseat of the car, in a setup Reubs and I built. Hell of an upgrade from a backpack and a thumb. After hours of rolling green hills, that resembled what I imagine new zealand to look like we parked up on the side of the road. Very true to form. We set up the tent, brushed our teeth and had dinner in the form of a banana and a beer and then got to bed as the sun set. I woke up at 25 Chatham and now I find myself falling asleep somewhere between Northampton and Kalbarri in my car.

-

“Traveling is just tetris on wheels mate”

-

No matter how far away you travel to try and escape modern society, if you look up at night, you will still see a satellite and you will be reminded that no matter where you go, you are a member of a species that can get itself to space

-

Shit i like:

Squeezing kenny

Cooking in car parks

Paying for wifi and toilets with beer or hot chocolates

Surfing. All day

Chatting shit

Brownies

Staring at the stars

Dunes

Eating brownies, chatting shit and staring at the stars under the shade at dunes.

Hunters

Making new friends everywhere

Chatting to literally everyone

Having nowhere to be and never thinking about home

Telling Tony to get fucked

Surfing bombie and paddling back in twilight glassy waters

Dinners and laughs with friends in the whalebone carpark

Breaking into RAC for a shower

Coffee dates at soso

Waking up to ben packing a tent

Laughing till my ribs hurt

Tonic water with lime

No internet for weeks

Chatting to esther and alice at dunes

Staring at groms wiping out

Carpark hangs

Never having an empty passenger seat

Never being able to see out the rear view mirror

Never being alone

Cooking in the carpark opposite the cop shop

Drying shit on the car every time we parked

Listening to lots of nothing a million times

Chaos at froth consisting of surprise drinks, random chats and boats

-

And the curtain closes.

On two months and nine days of nonstop adventure and fun. Unpredictable, unprecedented fun. The people you met were of a caliber I’d not encountered and never considered to be my own but from the get go and proved time and time again over the course of my time up north, they were.

I dont know how I’m going to fare when I get off this plane in two hours and have to see my parents, exist in cold weather, deal with a broken car, find a place to call home, figure out a new job and find my way with my friends who I can never be the same with after this.

The wheels are up. Fleeting views of the ningaloo coast and the cape range out each side of the planes window; a farewell of what I’m going to be missing. The red dirt and wildflowers underneath us where I’ve spent most of my nights sleeping look exactly as they always are. Untouched and still. I know I’ll be back soon. I’ve got so much more to see. So many more people left to meet. So many more memories left to make. So many more waves left to surf. So many more beers left to pour. So many more sunsets left to see.

Exmouth, for two months you sure have changed me.

-

Tiger,

I dont know your history brother but if i had to take a look into your past im guessing id see a lot of pain, chaos, missing love and bad mates who dont know that they’re bad.

You’re a good dude man im so fuckin sure of it but you seem so hell bent on starting a fight and proving a point. To whom i dont know. Your break up has obviously destroyed you and your coping mechanism is alcohol and trying to get with women. You’re incredibly kind and generous to your friends and a fierce antagonist to anyone who isn’t. You need help and you know it but you dont know how to find it or who to ask.

The hardest thing about you is that you need to change your whole view of life. Theres more than you think to it. I know there’s someone in there waiting to be found. I wanna be the guy holding the torch while you search.

You’re a good guy,

I dont wanna see you get killed by some drunk in a fight or waste yourself away in a bottle and a job you hate because you didn’t know there was another option.

[imjustthemechanic]

The Stone Knight

Part 1/? - Two Statues Part 2/? - A Curious Interview Part 3/? - John Doe Part 4/? - Escape Attempt Part 5/? - Making the News Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - More Impossible

The Loch Ness Monster attempts to make love to a Ford Ranger.

Nat had to admit, some part of her had almost wanted to believe that Sir Stephen really was a medieval knight, maybe turned to stone and now restored.  It didn't matter that there was no historical record of him or that he didn't speak the right kind of English, it would just be so romantic, and she wouldn't have to worry about whether anything made sense.  Who needed sense when there was actual magic involved?  Finding out that the statues really were not only modern, but last-few-months modern, was both a vindication and oddly disappointing.

“Well?” Nat asked.  “Don't keep us in suspense.”

DI Carter scrolled down the email she'd recieved.  “They were made by a guy named Aaron Apple.  He makes posh garden ornaments out of a workshop on Perth Road in Dundee.”

Nat let that sink in, and the mix of emotions she'd been feeling faded away into a startled annoyance.  “Are you telling me,” she asked, “that the whole time, those two statues were carved literally across the street from where I work?”

“Evidently,” said Carter.  “So if we want to find out who Sir Steve is,” she nodded to the mystery man, “I guess we'll have to ask Aaron Apple.  He's coming up to Inverness tomorrow to talk to the police about Mr. Pierce's statues.”

“We'd better be there, then,” Nat decided.  “Maybe when he leaves he can give me a ride back to Dundee.”  How would her car insurance company classify a vehicle destroyed by being buried in a collapsed building?  Did her policy cover terrorist acts?  She'd never actually looked.  “And we'll need Sir Steve, obviously.” If the statues were modern, then their best theory for his identity was still as the model for them.

Sir Stephen himself scraped the last crumbs off his plate and at them, then set down his cutlery.  “I will accompany you back to Inverness,” he said, “but I am nearly well again, and I must soon gather my allies and resume following the Red Death, so that he cannot find the Grail.  Therefore, I must ask for the return of my arms and armor.  Where are they?”

“They're being held for safekeeping on Burnett Road,” said DI Carter.  “If you want to press charges against your assailant, we might need to keep them as evidence.”

“What does it mean to press charges?” Sir Stephen asked.

“Take him to court,” Carter clarified.  “Put him in jail, or... what did they do with criminals back then?”  She looked at Natasha for the answer.

“Stick him in the stocks and let people throw fruit at him?” Nat suggested.

“Oh, I like that,” said Wilson.  “Why don't we do that anymore?”

Sir Stephen shook his head.  “If it were truly the Red Death and Zola, I want no such easy fate,” he said.  “I prefer to meet them in single combat.”

“I don't think that's legal,” Natasha observed.

“I wouldn't be so sure,” DI Carter warned.  “You wouldn't believe some of the medieval laws that are still on the books in this country.”

“Like what?” Dr. Wilson asked, interested.

“Like if a dead whale washes ashore in Scotland, the head is considered the property of the king, and the tail of the queen,” Carter replied.  “That was a bit of a problem a couple of years ago, actually, when a guy found one and wanted the bones for his artwork.”

“What happened?” asked Dr. Wilson.

“Once somebody actually contacted the Queen, she just gave it to him,” DI Carter replied.  “I mean, what's she going to do with it?”

A car alarm began going off somewhere outside.  Everybody ignored it, including Sir Stephen, who must have thought it couldn't be very important if nobody else were bothered by it.  “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but my things?”

“Right.”  DI Carter sat up to explain the process to him.  “If you don't want it held as evidence, you can get your stuff back by requesting the voucher.  Since you were unconscious we'll have kept it at the station.  They'll have a list of what we've got that's yours, and all you have to do is ask for it.”

“Then I must insist on doing that first,” said Sir Stephen.  “I will need them for when I meet the Red Death again.”

“What makes you so sure it was the Red Death who hurt you?” asked DI Carter.

“The last thing I remember before waking up in your hospital was battle with him,” Sir Stephen said, as if this were a very stupid question.  When he put it that way, maybe it was.

The alarm outside was suddenly joined by two or three others, one a wailing alarm like the first and the other a repeatedly honking horn. A siren became audible, drawing closer and closer, and people in the hotel common room were starting to sit up and look around.

“Well, if we're all going back to Inverness together,” said Dr. Wilson, “we can...”

The door of the hotel flew open and a woman ran inside.  “Darren!” she shouted.  “The Mum's come for her bairn!”

“What?” an Irish accent demanded.  A group of four men had been playing cards in a corner – now they all jumped to their feet. Natasha recognized one of them, with a set of wrap sunglasses pushed up above his forehead, as the man from the news who claimed to have captured the monster.  He looked at the woman in thedoorway, who nodded, and the man panicked.  He shoved his companions of the way, dashed out the door, and went scurrying off down the hill yelling, “no!  No!”  The woman ran after him.

Nobody else said anything, but nobody in the hotel – tourists, employees, reporters, or men who thought they were eleventh-century knights – wanted to miss whatever was going on.  Everyone got up, en masse, and followed the cryptozoologists to see what had happened.

What greeted them in the car park was almost beyond belief.  Vehicle lights were flashing and alarms were blaring, and the cryptozoologist was standing there with a flashlight, yelling and waving it in an attempt to scare away a much larger version of his captive creature. This animal was the size of a rhinoceros, with a seal-like head on a four-foot neck, broad pectoral flippers and narrow hind ones with no tail.  It was about as close as a marine mammal could get to the dinosaur shape people thought of as the Loch Ness Monster, and it was not at all interested in the chaos around it.  It was halfway up on the truck, rocking the vehicle as if it were trying to mate with it.

Nobody said anything.  There was nothing that could possibly be said.

The creature continued to lunge against the truck until it knocked it on its side, and the cage with the baby creature in it rolled out. The juvenile was now barking excitedly, whether in fear or pain or just calling for its mother was impossible to say.  It continued to make noise as the adult rolled the cage around the car park, pushing vehicles aside and setting off more and more alarms, until it finally broke open and the young creature inside was free.

“Stop!  Stop!” the monster-hunter ordered helplessly, and then was force to dive out of the way as both creatures began flopping their way back down the slope, south towards the River Moriston.  If he hadn't, they would simply have bowled him right over.

The rest of the people who'd come out of the hotel – and a number of other houses and buildings nearby – were just standing around staring.  Natasha took a couple of steps backwards to rejoin her own party.

“Well,” said Dr. Wilson, licking his lips.  “I guess that happened.”

Slowly, the crowd dispersed – leaving Darren the cryptozoologist sobbing in the car park, with his female friend trying tocomfort him – and Nat and the others started back up the hill to the hotel.

“Do you call that evidence of monsters?” Sir Stephen asked DI Carter, smiling.

“I would say that particular lead has definitely brought me to some kind of reality,” she replied, a little dazed, “but I don't know what kind.”

They walked slowly back up to the hotel, and arrived to find a red caravan in the driveway out front.  The horn honked, a window came down, and a silver-haired black woman leaned out to wave to them.

“Sam!” she called.

Dr. Wilson's face brightened.  “Mum!” he said, waving to her. “I told you, you didn't have to run out here.  I can get an Uber!”

“No reason for you to have to pay for an Uber when I can get you,” Mrs. Wilson replied firmly.  She took off her seat belt and opened her arms, and Dr. Wilson went up to give her a hug.  “I'm so glad you're all right,” she said.  “I could see all the dust hanging over the city, and when I realized where it was coming from I nearly had a heart attack!”

“I'm fine, Mum,” he assured her.  “I'm fine.  I'm thinking about renewing my helicopter license.”

“That might be a good idea,” Mrs. Wilson agreed.  “Now, you can't refuse a ride now that I'm here, so grab your stuff and get in.”  She looked past him at the rest of the group.  “Do your friends want to come?  I have room.”

“I would be much obliged,” said Sir Stephen.  “I do not know what has become of my horse.”

“Same,” said Natasha, deadpan.

Dr. Wilson opened the back door of the van for them.  “Everybody, this is my mother, Darlene.  Mum, this is Detective Inspector Sharon Carter from Inverness, Dr. Natalie Rushman from Dundee, and, uh.. Sir Steve, he's one of my patients.”

“Delighted to meet you all,” Mrs. Wilson said.  She was in her sixties, with her hair very short and big chandelier earrings, and a bright smile in a face full of laugh lines.  “I imagine you've had a very exciting evening.”

“You might say that,” said Dr. Wilson.

“We got to watch the Loch Ness Monster shag a lorry,” said DI Carter.

The smile on Mrs. Wilson's face faded as she tried to figure out what that meant.  When nobody offered any evidence that it was a joke, she just shrugged and started the van's engine.  “Well, it's not every day you see that,” she said.

It was a forty-five minute drive from Invermoriston back up to Inverness on the A82, and for almost the entire trip the road ran along the top of an embankment that plunged down into the Loch itself on their right.  Mrs. Wilson kept up a steady stream of chatter about various things, and her son occasionally answered her questions or repeated that no, he was not dating at the moment and was really too busy to think about it.  Everybody else just sat staring out their windows at the dark waters of the lake, hoping to see some sign of life.  If anyone did, they didn't mention it.

At nearly two in the morning they arrived in the city, and the group split in two.  Mrs. Wilson dropped her son off at his own flat, and Sir Stephen got out with him.  Nat wondered if they'd go to bed right away, or if Sir Stephen would keep Dr. Wilson up late telling more of the fantastical story of his life.  DI Carter then gave Mrs. Wilson directions to her own small house, where the woman let her and Natasha out.

“It was lovely meeting you,” Mrs. Wilson said.  “I don't know if you heard, but Sam hasn't had a girlfriend in about six months now, and...”

“He does seem like a nice guy, Mrs. Wilson,” said DI Carter. “Good night.”

Natasha had used to be very good at going without sleep, but a few years of living on a normal person's schedule had undone some of her training.  She was yawning as they went indoors.  She hadn't asked if she could spent the night at Carter's, and Carter hadn't offered. Both of them simply seemed to accept that it would happen.

“You want anything to eat?” Carter asked.

“No, I'd rather go straight to bed,” Natasha replied.

“Me, too,” Carter admitted.  She pulled some cushions off the sofa so she could fold it out for Nat to sleep on.  “I hope we get this all figured out,” she said.  “Who is this nutter and what has he got to do with Mr. Pierce, what happened to Mr. Pierce and statues and goblins and monsters and... ugh.”  She shook her head.  “Usually I want to know what's going on so that those who deserve it can get justice.  With this mess I just want to figure it out because I'll be furious if I never get an answer.”

“Yeah,” said Natasha.  “Hopefully this Apple guy will have some answers.”  If he didn't, she had no idea who would.  Even if he could tell them who Sir Stephen really was, though... why were the statues so important?  Who was Zola?  Where was Mr. Pierce and who or what had destroyed the hospital?  This was not a simple mystery, and there would be no simple answers.

“Hey,” she said, as Carter started to leave the room.  “Uh... has anybody told Sir Steve that it's not 1066 anymore, or does he just think Scotland is a country of brilliant engineers while England's in the middle ages?”

“I sure didn't tell him,” Carter replied.

“Somebody's going to have to,” Natasha said with a frown.

“Well,” Carter stifled a yawn.  “That'll be fun, too.”

[xxxsex75837]

Watch

With regards to my very own (non-existent) love life, I am incredibly customary. I've never been to a swingers club with my accomplices, could never have an open relationship and I can get envious. One sweetheart worked that out when he wrongly gawped at a lady for around 45 seconds excessively long. I swiped his Prada sunnies off his face, woke up them into equal parts and tossed them from the (moving) vehicle window. 

In my previous years as an escort, I've met couples who are NOT the envious sort. Ladies who wouldn't fret their spouses taking a gander at other ladies yet greet a lady wholeheartedly (and legs) into their conjugal bed. 

  I've met ladies who get turned on by watching their spouses have intercourse with other ladies. 

What's more, I've met ladies who have booked escorts for their spouses as a birthday present. 

I know this since I have been that other lady. Furthermore, brace yourself for what I'm about to tell you, couples that play together, remain together. 

A couple I've referenced already are Sway and Belinda, in their 50s, who have been as one 17 years. Their mystery - separated from not living respectively - is to book an escort to invest some energy with at regular intervals. 

  When I met them, they turned up radiating in their Sunday best, with chocolates and a container of non-alcoholic wine for me, with a little thankyou card. 

Belinda did the majority of the talking. She conceded she cherished Weave so much, seeing him turned on turned HER on. 

They found escorts a year back and didn't simply hit the sack with them, they believed they fortified with them. 

  "What was that name of that decent escort we met in Brisbane Sway? The one with the huge phony boobs. Goodness she was a stunning young lady, so all around voyaged … " 

Their eyes would illuminate as they related each understanding. 

"We got to a phase in our relationship where our sexual coexistence was getting stale so we chosen to have a trio." 

In any case, why pay for an escort when you can meet somebody in a bar or ask a sweetheart? 

I read some place stressing an escort is going to take your better half resembles thinking an instructor needs to take your children. 

  It's an occupation, that's it, not all that much. What's more, when the escort leaves, she isn't pining for your significant other, trust me. She is pondering what she will have for supper or at long last farting in the wake of holding it in for a couple of hours. (Escorts fart as well). 

There is no enthusiastic connection and limits are immovably set up. 

  My inquiries would consistently be for the lady. What are your guidelines? What isn't permitted? 

I would measure from the lady whether it was her choice - or his. In the event that it was his, I wouldn't consent to see them. The lady must be the one in control. On the off chance that there was even a little gleam, only an indication, that she was doing this for him, I'd be out. 

No escort could ever need to be in a room with a spouse who would not like to be there. Truth be told, it goes the other way. The man is practically undetectable (a lot to his alleviation, as the spouses are constantly petrified). 

  Another couple that stays in my brain is Thorn and Linx from Perth. They came to me when their marriage was at stalemate. They had no clue how to fix it. The adoration was there however so was the smugness. They had three children, occupied occupations and no sexual coexistence. 

They even conceded separation was a choice. Welcoming an outsider was a hazard. 

In my years as an escort, I met with them multiple times more than three years. Also, the last time I saw them, they resembled a fresh out of the box new couple. The flash had returned. 

  They disclosed to me they had kept on observing escorts together; they would make a night of it. They'd advise the children they were headed toward night out. Supper, drinks - and a lodging. Yet, it wasn't simply female escorts, Linx needed Thorn to encounter male escorts as well. 

Spike resembled another lady. She had shed her mumsy skin and I could tell she felt sure and provocative. Linx was simply glad he had his better half back. 

  I've not met one couple where connecting with an outsider hasn't worked. I would go as far to state it has improved their relationship significantly. 

I additionally comprehend it isn't some tea. I likewise get it's a hazard. So everything comes down to arrangement and arranging. 

For the spouses out there - be exceptionally cautious how to word it to your significant other. "I need to do this for you, I couldn't want anything more than to see you with another lady," is superior to looking through a site slobbering saying, "I need that one … " 

What's more, spouses, you take control. This is your gathering. You pick the woman, you be the contact, and you are the one to issue the principles and limits. In case you're disturbed, nobody is cheerful.

  In my eight years spent as an escort, one of the most well-known misguided judgments about me is that I should be some sort of sex crack with a wide range of unusual deceives at my disposal. 

That I can swing from ceiling fixtures, shuffle, twist around in reverse (actually), perform bizarre and wacky sex deceives you just observe on more than 18 destinations, all with sucking my belly in and blazing a phony grin. 

I prefer not to break your fantasies. (Alright, I realize how to hold my belly in … ) 

Provided that there is one thing I have found out about what men don't need in bed, truth be told, it's energy. 

  In the event that anything, and I would say, they run a mile from anything excessively unusual. Their needs, sexual and enthusiastic, are in reality incredibly, basic. As I said in my first book Snared, the effortlessness of men is here and there unreasonably complex for ladies to get it. 

I recall once a customer named Daz, a delicate and kind man who had headed out 312 kilometers to go through three hours with me, rang me the following day after our date to grumble. 

"Sorry Samantha, yet I discovered you excessively explicitly forceful," he said. 

I wound up saying 'sorry' to Daz for my sexual fierceness (which truly was me attempting to sprightly things up in the room or else I would no uncertainty nod off). 

Try not to misunderstand me, men love sex. In any case, with respect to pornography star moves? Spare that for dream. 

I would say, and I can just discuss my experience, this is what men love the most when the room entryway closes. 

  THE Sweetheart EXPERIENCE 

 Alright, I'm not discussing the sort of sweetheart that has a migraine consistently similarly as the lights go off. In any case, the sort of sweetheart that kisses, nestles and takes things gradually in the room. 

"Hustle just a bit and get it over with", "Is it in yet?" and "I don't need my tea to get cold" are not things that men like to hear in bed. 

They are very mindful that the genuine demonstration of sex keeps going only a couple of minutes, so they like to develop to that minute gradually. The most widely recognized inquiry they pose to me is "Do you kiss?" At that point they state, "I simply need somebody I have association with, who I can converse with." 

One customer rang me to gripe about "a portion of these youthful escorts who simply need to have intercourse!" 

"There's no discussion, no visiting. They simply need to get directly at it!" they said. 

Clever truly, astonishing no. Men like a kiss, a nestle and a visit considerably more than ladies do. 

  THEY Cherish ORAL 

 On YOU. Men appear to be famished of it. The wedded ones says the missus has taken that dish off the menu for good. The single ones can't get enough and like to learn. 

Furthermore, quit agonizing over what you look like and taste down there. They Couldn't care less. 

They couldn't care less about whether you've had a two-piece wax or whether you've quite recently douched yourself or you're not wearing attractive enough underpants - they truly couldn't care less. 

All they care about is would they say they are doing it right and would you say you are getting a charge out of it? 

Actually, the main solicitation I used to get as an escort was not to spruce up in tights and suspenders however to wear my sweat-soaked old exercise center apparatus - the sweatier the better. 

  MAKING YOU Climax 

 Nothing - and I don't mean anything - turns a man on more than giving his accomplice delight. He needs you to get muddled, clingy, grimy, sweat-soaked and to have some good times. Most men get off on their accomplice getting off, instead of making it about them. 

Truth be told, I've had men state they couldn't care less about whether they climax or not as long as their accomplice is having fun. 

You can wear the hottest underwear, the most noteworthy heels, the most costly scent, the ideal blow dry; yet toward the day's end on the off chance that you aren't having a ball in the room, he won't.

The Lebanon local, who presently lives in the US, worked in the porno business for a quarter of a year, yet regardless of her "brief" spell, she's as yet perhaps the greatest name subsequent to picking up shame for partaking in an intimate moment while wearing a hijab. 

A long time in the wake of stopping, Khalifa keeps on being positioned No. 2 on Pornhub for most looked through stars in 2018, as indicated by Bad habit. 

  "Individuals believe I'm racking in millions from pornography," Khalifa, 26, said a tweet. 

"I made an Aggregate of around $12,000 in the business and never observed a penny again after that. "Trouble getting an ordinary line of work in the wake of stopping pornography was … terrifying." 

Her remarks copped significant fire online with some Twitter clients saying the cash she has made since doing pornography was an immediate outcome from her X-evaluated previous vocation. 

"Actually nobody knew who you were before you did pornography, and positively nobody would know who you are today on the off chance that you never did pornography. You're just preposterous on the off chance that you don't understand that," one individual said. 

  "Would you have 2.8 Million supporters without the Business however?" asked another. 

"Despite everything she utilizes her stage name meaning regardless she benefits off of her time in the business regardless of whether she's not doing pornography," a third remarked. 

Khalifa, who in 2018 functioned as a games moderator on YouTube channel Complex News, hit back saying she's "not mourning" on what she earned. "In any case, you obviously have further issues with me past this, so good karma with your harsh life," she included. 

The online life star, who tweets as Mia K. what's more, has 2.7 million Twitter adherents, proceeded to clarify she was "never guaranteed millions" of dollars nor did she "anticipate" it. 

"I'm simply explaining normal misinterpretations about me, and thus, about the business," Khalifa stated, while including she was associated with pornography "so quickly". 

"Be that as it may, my activities spread quickly and I keep on being positioned (genuinely bewilders me) 5 years in the wake of leaving the business. 

"This is the reason individuals think despite everything I perform." 

  FROM PORNSTAR TO SPORTS Moderator 

  The tweets got Khalifa to incline on Twitter on Monday night and were joined by a YouTube video, including a meeting she allowed not long ago where she "reveals to her story just because". 

"In 2014, Mia Khalifa made world news when she got demise dangers from ISIS subsequent to showing up in a porno wearing a hijab," a portrayal peruses. "Unexpectedly, Mia plunks down with Megan Abbott to disclose to her story." 

In the meeting, Khalifa depicted her change out of pornography - calling it "alarming". 

"I didn't have a clue what I would do," she said. 

Her notorious hijab scene - which was all the while earning Islamic State dangers as of August 2018 - is the thing that at last made Khalifa leave the business. 

"The defining moment, obviously, was the point at which I did the hijab scene," she said. "That is the point at which the ISIS demise dangers came in, the majority of the news broke out, all around. Not simply in America. 

  "It was slanting on Twitter, it was everywhere throughout the news. I was restricted from a bunch of nations … Egypt … Afghanistan … " 

Khalifa clarified numerous Muslim nations were profoundly insulted by it - "and I'm Catholic". "What I really said when they proposed the scene to me, and this is verbatim, was: 'You motherf***ers will get me executed.'" 

Depicting her brisk discovered notoriety, Khalifa said the day after the scene dropped is when everything exploded. 

She went from having only 400 devotees on Instagram to 200,000 in only three days. 

"At that point it simply continued snowballing until I was at 2,000,000 like a half year later," she said. 

"This was after I had stopped pornography. It simply continued developing, and developing, and developing - and afterward my Instagram record was hacked by ISIS." 

Khalifa proceeded to turn into a moderator on Outside the field of play, a day by day sports appear on Complex News' YouTube channel, in the wake of leaving the pornography business and she wants to keep working in that field. 

"I unquestionably need to develop my vocation," she said. 

  KHALIFIA TO GET Hitched 

 In May, Khalifa likewise got drew in to her intensely inked Swedish culinary expert beau Robert Sandberg. 

In an Instagram post, he stated: "We went to Chicago this end of the week and had a brilliant supper at Smyth. I proposed to @miakhalifa and she said YES! 

"The ring was covered up in a bowl of dried fixings and turned out as 'another serving'. Mia was excessively inquisitive and to anxious to taste so she began to eat the unpalatable fixings. 

"I advised her not do it and afterward I put the ring on the finger. I adore you so much :heart:" 

The Lebanese-conceived pornstar turned games moderator, appeared to be energized after she took to her very own Instagram saying she didn't see it coming.

[imaginaryculturepress-blog]

Placebo Postpone Perth Performance

In which Placebo cancel their Perth show, and we find out hella late. 

Hi, hello, and welcome!


 My name is Skyler and instead of choosing a simple title for this post, I decided upon the worst tongue-twister I could think of. Thank me later. 
 As you all would've heard by now, Placebo's 20th anniversary show in Perth has been cancelled. I may have had a mental breakdown and screamed at a staff member. ... Yeah, not a nice time. Not family friendly, either.


Let's backtrack a bit, back to this morning. Perth Placebo fans would've awoken with "Pure Morning" ringing in their heads, excited and potentially having a heart attack at the thought of the marvellous day that would ensue. Placebo, England's greatest band (following Pink Floyd and Iron Maiden), were in town and about to kick off their Australian tour. We were all honoured to be in their presence, even if some of us were fifty kilometres away. We were ecstatic, enthusiastic, even tipsy at the thought of it. 
 Now, at the same time, Brian Molko would've been up as well. He would've noticed that he wasn't feeling well, and probably informed his management. Everyone was aware that no matter how many meds he'd take, even if he took the ones he'd previously forgotten to (just let me reference), there was no way he could recover in time for the show. Perhaps he was determined to play their set, to avoid disappointing the fans. It sounds like such a precious thing to do, and is definitely something you'd expect of a band this dedicated to their music and audiences. So they continued on with the day. 
 Perhaps his condition worsened. I hope not. But regardless, by the time it was 5:30pm, there was a queue of eager concert-goers at the box office. There were your die-hard fans, groupies, generally nice people just out for a good time and good music, sly photographers such as myself, and friends who were dragged along for the hell of it. I'd spent the entire day freaking the hell out; this would be the largest concert I'd ever photographed, and I wasn't sure if I was ready. It's not the photography part that made me shake, but the idea that such an inspirational band would be right before my lens, and a crowd of their biggest supporters would stand behind me. It was a privilege I wasn't sure I deserved, and I was determined to make everyone (predominantly myself) proud. I was even planning the blog post, and had documented numerous moments leading up to this moment. Who knew that waiting in line would become a post of its own? 
 5:45pm rolled past. Still nothing. 
 5:53pm. We were getting nervous. The box office was still closed and we didn't know what was happening. It was just... odd. I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to find out why this was taking so long. 

Thus, I walked over to Entry A, where security guards and event staff were walking in and out of the venue. Throwing away the remains of my lunch, I headed in the direction of a dude who seemed to know what he was doing. But, as always, by the time I did this, he'd vanished into the venue. And so, also as always, I subconsciously began talking to myself... aloud. I probably wouldn't have realised if I wasn't being offered weird looks. 
 Returning to the line, I tried to regain my dignity and confessed to having no new information. But maybe the answer lies on the other side of the venue? I ran back out in search of answers, where a couple dozen fans were lined up. There was no staff around, but Sheraton's Four Points was blasting "Every You Every Me", which was greatly appreciated. By this point, others were also seeking information. Soon enough I stumbled upon a guy with "crowd control" credentials. 
 Me: Hi, uh, hello, I'm a photographer and am supposed to pick up my press pass but have no clue as to where I ought to go and the box office is closed and I'm freaking out and hELP ME. 
 Guy: Okay, yeah, please repeat like all of that. 
 Me: *Repeats all of that.* 
 Guy: Oh. Well you should go to the box office. 
 Me: *Distressed* I just came from there! It's closed! *Sighs* Look, this is my first time shooting here. I'm just really confused. 
 Guy: Haha, don't worry, it's my first time working here as well. I suppose go check with admin? They'll know more than I do. Just on the side of the building over there. *Points.* 
 Me: THANK YOU. 
 So I ran back to report to the team. And by team I mean the random people I'd never even met but was becoming indirectly acquainted with. One woman was saying that she was already at admin, and they told her to come to this place. Regardless, I took off to find these mystical admin creatures.  
 After almost getting run over by carefree cyclists, I reached my destination.


Me: Hi, hello, my name is Skyler and I'm supposed to be picking up a photo pass but the box office is closed and I don't know what to do. 
 Security guard: ...I just do bag checks. 
 Me: *Sighs, opening backpack.* 
 Security: What's all this? 
 Me: Camera gear! I told you, I'm a p h o t o g r a p h e r. 
 Security: Okay, okay, go in. 
 And so I did. There were two ladies at the desk and a few company representatives walking around. It felt too fancy for a teenage photographer who had ketchup and rosemary stains on her worn out jeans. Regardless, I proceeded to talk to one of the staff members. 
 The lady was quite friendly and helpful, calling up Ticketek and asking what the hell was going on. The other woman was on the phone to someone about Placebo tickets. 
 Woman on phone: Yes, there are still tickets available. You can purchase them at the box office here. They're open from 5:30, so they're working now. 
 Me: No, they're not... 
 I was soon told that Ticketek has been advised, by the event organisers, to delay the box office opening. Greaaat. Time to update the team. 
 Unsurprisingly, nobody was pleased. We started complaining to each other, and were all bonding over our displeasure. I even met a wonderful lady who was interested in my work, and asked for my website. Unfortunately I didn't catch her name, though if she's reading this: hello! Please comment below so we (I) know who you are, you were very nice and supportive of my photography (: also I hope everything goes well with having to fly in and out for the show and with getting your tix! Hopefully they reschedule and actually stick to their arrangements, haha. 
 6:19pm. We've been here for ages. Sure, all of us have encountered worse scenarios and waited in longer queues. But the sheer disorganisation and miscommunication - sorry, lack of communication - was becoming oddly suspicious. Finally we get an update, in the form of papers stuck to the box office windows. To paraphrase: "Box office hours have been delayed. We apologise for any inconvenience caused." (Side note: I love how they put "any" inconvenience, as if only a couple of us may have potentially been affected by this.) 
As if we needed that now, after all this freaken time! If a few of us hadn't complained in the first place, they probably wouldn't have even bothered putting that up. But regardless of what sign they put up, we still had to wait. And wait. And wait. And wait some more. 6:27pm. Any moment now. I felt the energy and excitement rush back into me as the security guards readied at the doors. Fresh from their debriefings, they were preparing to quarantine concert goers left and right. 6:32. Slight extra delay, but that's alright; it always happens. 6:39. I tried reassuring myself that everything would be fine... but deep down, I knew this wouldn't end well. The were rumours now spreading throughout the entire crowd about the show's cancellation. We were nervous. Of course we didn't want to come back another time! Who would?! 6:42. The promotional image above the venue doors change as the conspiracies become reality: "Tonight's event has been cancelled due to illness. We apologise for any inconvenience." Again with the "any inconvenience", I see. I laughed. Most people didn't. The reality hadn't sunk in. I wasn't believing it. Surely it had to be a bad dream? This was a major event for me and everyone else around me. I'd heard so many precious stories, from people flying in for the show to a man's daughter losing $900 worth of tickets. Most appeared to be truly heartbroken. You could see it in their eyes; the dreaded realisation that they wouldn't be seeing the iconic Placebo perform. After eleven years since their last tour Down Under, we were met by disappointment. We got our tickets - some easier than others - and headed back to train stations, bus ports and car parks. Now, I do want to point something out: in no way am I blaming Bryan. I wish him a speedy recovery and a restful few days. But the fact that their management and specifically the venue were so careless in their handling of the matter, leaving everyone waiting overtime to find out, is completely unacceptable. Surely they found out earlier. The way they handled themselves, failing to have an actual person say anything to the crowds, or to even address the public about their delays in time, was unprofessional and to be frowned upon. For a place that promotes "world-class" experiences, Perth Arena truly underperform. **** **** **** Well that sucked. Hopefully they reschedule the show. If anyone comes across any new information regarding the show, please comment down below. Also, tell us your story of the event. I know that I seemed to overdramatise the occasion, though if you saw the sadness in some people's eyes, you would be making extremely similar comments. Until next time, Live long and headbang, -Skyler Slate


[iviaggidianica]

giorno uno: metropolitan panic & luxury fashion stores

My flights were not pleasant, but not abhorrently intolerable. On the 5 hour stint I watched Vox Lux (weird & unnerving) and then some of The Princess Diaries (familiar and comforting). A chicken curry & pot of ice cream later, I managed to get myself on a skybus to the right terminal, and after asking for help at an info centre (yep I did actually ask), I went to the next gate. I passed Amy Ross on the way, who was going to the USA - an unlikely coincidence!

On the 12 hour flight I was determined to sleep the entire time but drifted in & out due to meals, coldness, discomfort and turbulence. I would wake up every time thinking ‘surely it’s time to get off now’, but alas. There was some passive aggressive gentle elbowing of the large old man sitting beside me encroaching on my personal space, and at one point some orange juice went flying as I knocked it in its holder in my attempt to get comfortable. That’s about as descriptive as a 12 hour flight can get.

Arriving in Milan was the part I was most anxious about. I stood in the passport line for about 30 minutes, awfully dehydrated. Eventually got in, stood at the wrong baggage collection for an embarrassing amount of time, traipsed through the airport to find the Malpensa Express and kissed goodbye to £13 to buy tickets. On the train we passed lots of green shrubbery, crumbling graffitied walls, yellow painted houses, and then all of a sudden we hit the city.

I walked around for almost an hour trying to find the hotel which was purportedly 10 minutes away from the station (it was, just not when you factor in the incompetence of Google Maps). I asked a man at a fresh drinks vendor & a lady in a chemist for some vague Italian-inflected directions, clinging onto every ‘sinistra’ and ‘destra’ I picked out, and eventually pulled my case up the stairs to reception. Proceeded to have a major panic as I couldn’t find my passport hidden in my bag lining - an Australian Consulate building flashed before my eyes in those few moments - and then entered my...room. A sink, bed, table, window, fan - a single toilet and shower located down the hall. Not going to lie - after my disheartening rigmarole throughout the city trying to find the place, running on few hours sleep and little food/water, the room was the yucky little cherry on top. I called Mum, which of course made me feel better, and pulled myself together.

(Already a MESS!)

(The holy fan)

(View from my room)

I contacted a girl, Aaliyah, who I met at UWA at the leaving meeting. I suggested we have dinner together, and so we planned to meet at 3PM at central station to go to Duomo. I was very nervous considering I’d only talked to her for all of 20 minutes in the past.

Whilst waiting for 3 to roll around, (it being around 12 at this point) I decided to walk to the station to have lunch before meeting her. The following sentence will not please Tonya: after wandering around and mainly just being unable to understand the cuisines/prices/formality of the restaurants & cafes, I stumbled into Maccas. And I felt a strange sense of peace, as even the interiors are exactly the same as at home. I ordered a burger, proud of myself for understanding Italian, and then walked to find somewhere else to sit as Maccas was packed with hungry travellers with suitcases. (Quality report: both the chicken and the bread bun in Italian McDonalds, it seems, are actually real).

I had really over-estimated the amount of time I would need to eat one burger. So I walked back to my hotel as a practice run, so that I wouldn’t endure that horrific goose chase from the beginning of the day again. Ended up resting in my hotel for a bit more and then went out to properly meet Aaliyah.

Was still early. And Aaliyah a little late. And my phone charge dying. Went and read some non fiction books about space and time in a shop at the station, called Mum again to express my nervousness, and then went to sit firstly near the steps that go down to the metro, before a cigarette-smoking bogan family drove me to another more isolated bench (more first impressions of Milan as a city in a moment).

Finally went down into the bowels of the metro, pretending to know what I was doing by walking fast and swerving at the appropriate signs. It was surprisingly easy. I bought tickets from a tobacco shop, where the Italian man was more than willing to help and graciously wished me a wonderful day. “Grazie” is beginning to roll off the tongue like second nature now, ah yers.

Aaliyah’s train would stop at my station, and then would go straight on to Duomo. I waited for Aaliyah at the tracks, but due to bad coordination I got ON the train and she got OFF to meet me. It was quite funny. Then when we arranged to just meet at Duomo, meaning she had to follow me a few minutes after on a separate train, she accidentally got off on the stop after. Truly a comedic sequence of events. Once she took a train back in the opposite direction we met beside a massive regal horse statue directly in front of the Duomo which probably has great significance which I’m overlooking. Stepping out to see the cathedral, in fact, wasn’t so much of a “wow, there’s the cathedral!” moment, but just a blind frenzy of trying to find a “girl who looks like a cow”, as Aaliyah self-described her animal-print outfit.

We met and were immediately barraged by street sellers, coming up to us and tying rainbow strings - yes, strings - around our wrists in the name of ‘peace and love’, and then asking for money. As Aaliyah is originally from Sudan, many African sellers sucked up to her, giving her discount offers. But we declined the £20 carriage ride and professional photography in front of the cathedral.

We took some pictures ourselves (better ones of me fully standing there, plus us together, are with Aaliyah and will come through at some point. These don’t do justice and I’m making weird faces, I know).

(You asked for pics with my face in them, this is what you get)

Then we went to the Duomo shopping place, which was art in itself. Looked a lot like the Melbourne arcades, but...far more impressive. We went inside the luxury stores including Prada, Chanel, Georgio Armani, Michael Kors, etc...and I suppressed my shock as Aaliyah seriously contemplated buying her parents £300+ gifts. And she probably will end up going back and doing so.

(Aaliyah + me looking like I’m grimacing, because that’s what happens when your phone is on the lowest possible brightness setting and you can’t see yourself.)

The shop assistants are SO friendly. They obviously want to sell you things, but they take a legitimate interest in you. The man in Georgio Armani talked to us about Australia & growing up in Italy & our respective interests in fashion & his fear of flying - it feels like you can just make friends with anyone and everyone in Italy. Nobody really keeps to themselves. This is great, but also a bad thing when you’re running on maybe 5 hours of sleep over 2 days and being friendly seems like the biggest chore on earth. 

Aaliyah went and got prescriptions for Ray Bans, as you do, whilst I thankfully sat on a couch and pretended to go on my phone - pretended, because it was now on 5% and I was desperately trying to preserve power for my journey home. Here is an unnecessary pictorial documentation of this incident.

We went to a pizza place someone had recommended Aaliyah, got some large slices, then went and sat inside McDonalds (don’t worry, it was just a place to sit). Then Aaliyah accompanied me to the station so I could go home, around 7:30PM; but then the most bizarre thing occurred.

A man with spiked up hair walking hurriedly suddenly stopped as and said something in Italian, to which we responded ‘parlo inglese’ and continued on our way, but then he started asking for directions for somewhere, or asking us if we knew something, and then suddenly said he worked for a modelling company and we were both really great candidates and there was going to be a party at a well known club in Milan (Aaliyah knows of it) and wants us to come, and because Aaliyah had been receiving compliments all day from shopkeepers etc for her appearance I wasn’t so much doubtful of that compliment, but it was dodgy how he stopped us randomly and didn’t even seem to know what he was talking about at first. He continued for about 20 minutes and Aaliyah showed genuine interest whilst I was thinking nononono ALERT, and in the end it ended up sounding actually real but no way my spiky haired friend. He’s going to send Aaliyah an invite for it, so she can go along and have fun - not I sir!

We parted ways and I felt very snazzy remembering how to do the whole ride back, and then walking back to my hotel without any Google prompts at all. 

Now, first impressions of Milan: an ultra-busy Fremantle. Humid and hot, you can’t walk far without putting on a sweat. Metro lines, trams etc are very efficient, if a little ill-labelled. The people are all very extroverted, happy to talk, and happy to translate. Friendships could be made from a 5 minute ride on the metro - something impossible in Perth. There is an eclectic cultural mix, with many Indians, Africans, Muslims. All the business men always look like they’re off the cover of GQ with blue suits and slick cosmopolitan haircuts. There are many gracious, slender looking women, but mainly the girls all have that curly hair black rimmed glasses sportswear look. Everyone always looks like they have somewhere to go, and are going in confidence.

I wrote the following summation of the day about halfway it:

Throughout the entire journey thus far, I’ve found myself constantly asking the question: “why am I doing this?”. I don’t know if this is a normal thing to think. I just hope I can start to feel a bit less overwhelmed.

Yet at the same time, I haven’t really registered that I’m in Italy; anywhere of particular note. In that sense, I’m both numb and also overwhelmed at the same time. I’m looking forwards to Uni, where there’ll be plenty of English-speaking people to feel comfortable with.

A good sleep & food should restore me.

...and whilst today was by no means perfect and there were a lot of bad moments, I feel somewhat more hopeful tonight.

Now, let’s see if these posts will continue at this length, or at all!

[theleaffallsdown]

Love with BPD

Most people experience it at least once in their life; some, maybe two or three times.

Lots of people find out in round about the same kind of ways as each other, but there are those of us who have a slightly different story.

Most importantly (in my opinion) is that not everyone realises at the right time, or the right place or with the right person. It doesn’t always end well, is what I’m saying.

I, for one, should know.

I found out what the truest of true love felt like by having to let the person I felt it for, walk away.

First of all, don’t think I didn’t fight it – because I did. So did he. We really tried but the fact is, I became the right person for him too late in the game. I became that trustworthy, somewhat stable being after the damage had been done.

See, I have this thing in my head called Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD for short) and she is a bitch. BPD is an ode to all things left unsolved. She is an homage to the result of fooling one’s self instead of facing reality. Trauma is like a physical wound that if left untreated, will fester and deteriorate. It becomes not just something to treat with watered down Detol and gauze, but a surgery bill, stitches, and an infection coursing through your blood. All because you got nauseous at the sight of the cut. You let it take over an entire limb that has to be removed now because when someone tried to help before, it hurt when they touched it so you pulled away and said “it’ll be fine.” Now the infected area is gone but you have no right arm. Maybe you will get a prosthetic. Not likely though. You just get to learn to live with what you lost, knowing it was only your fault.

That is what happened here. For years, I left multiple bouts of trauma sitting in a locked box on the top shelf of my wardrobe, pushed waaaaay to the back. Pretty clothes piled up in front of it and some days I forgot it was there entirely. The longer this went on, pushing the memories from the infected chunk of my life to the back of my brain, the more okay I felt.

Upon closer inspection, nothing was really okay. I was sharing parts of myself with other people behind the sights of a boy who loved me. I didn’t really know why either. Even if he ended up vacant and dismissive, prompting me to seek out the affection I desperately craved from others, why stay with him while it happened? Why would anyone do that? Well, for some, they just don’t care. Others, they like the idea of being caught. Some people are malicious and just in it to see how much destruction they can cause. Me? I was scared of that part of life where you are in your own company. Where you don’t have someone saying they love you every fifteen minutes and writing you lovely things just to make you smile. I wanted everyone to want me so I never had to feel alone. After years of people taking me just because they wanted me, it started to feel like the only way I could connect. I shared my body with others while someone in the foreground professed their love for me.

All that makes it sound like I fucked someone else. I didn’t. But in this beautiful age of technology, an image can be in the hands of anyone you choose within a second. They could see me and they could want me but they could not have me. It made me feel a certain type of complete. It served as a kind of punishment and release for me.

(You might be wondering what this has to do with finding out what true love feels like, but I am getting there. I promise.)

So it was during the course of this particular relationship that masses of the trauma occurred. Twice in one year I was made to be someone else’s. Once, for a gruesome five minutes that left me with mud on my face and beer on my back. The other for eight whole hours that nobody can tell me was not a separate lifetime within my own. That one left me with scars you can see as well as the ones you can’t. All this, plus what happened before, is why I coped the way I did.

Of course when all that I had decided to do came to light, the relationship ended. There were other factors, sure, but I had to leave. The guilt I felt each time I looked into his tired eyes, begging me to stay and work it out was far too much. I couldn’t even be his friend when he asked for that.

All of this went into that box.

Fast forward a while through “almost-s” and “maybes” and there I am on a bus.

I was sitting next to someone who was either tweaking or suffered a brain injury. He was erratic and almost frightening. He clutched a bag of groceries to his chest like it was filled with a million land mines. I lost myself in my book to distract me from the uneasiness I now felt around unstable men.

My stop arrived and I got up as swiftly as I could and practically burst off the bus. It was only a few seconds before I felt someone behind me. My heart thundered deep in my chest and before I could take another step, a deep voice made some comment about the odd protectiveness of the man over his shopping. I can’t remember the exact words anymore, but it made me laugh. While he spoke, I spun to see a tall, broad shouldered man standing to my left.  I gave some simple reply and took in all that I could see of this person. Groomed beard, darker-than-olive skin, a little chubby, a thick sweater, an alpaca wool beanie, and the most brilliant brown eyes I had ever seen.

It turns out he was watching me on the bus to make sure that guy didn’t touch me.

In about 20 seconds, we came to a standstill and he asked if I lived in the area. I said I didn’t. He told me he was new around here and it would have been nice to know someone nearby. I said my name was Autumn and stuck out my hand. He took it in his and gave me the worst handshake I have ever received and replied with “Jacob”. We walked separate ways and I thought that was that. However, as I walked and thought and remembered all about the interaction, the more my stomach felt full of those damn butterflies and my cheeks pulled out to make a goofy, dopey smile. I loved him right there and then.

Later that night, he added me on Facebook, we spoke and he asked me to coffee. I said yes.

A few days later, we got coffee at Pilgrim. One of my favourite places. We talked and talked and instead of splitting and continuing our day, we wandered and spoke for eight hours. I ended up at a pub with him and his friends, tucked up under his arm. I couldn’t believe it. But at the same time, I could. I knew it would happen this way. I knew how to make people like me. I cut out little bits of my life story that made me seem like the one at fault. I told the horrifying tales of me being the victim but made myself something better than most other people. Totally innocent. It wasn’t even to manipulate him. It was because I wanted to be with this person I could tell would never hurt me. Who would plan extravagant life experiences with me. I was terrified of him saying he had places to be and walking away. I didn’t lie to be sneaky, I lied because I felt inadequate for what I had done in the past and wanted so badly to be someone else. Someone he would love.

He took me home that night. I thought it was a great night, but really, his attempts at keeping me out of his heart were quite horrible. He sent a naked photo of me to his friends so they could rate me. I consented but only because I was scared. I was drunk and in a strangers house. The second we were done having sex, he left me in bed and played video games. He laughed at my ex when he called in an emotional state. I went along with all of it acting like I didn’t mind because this was normal. This wasn’t what I thought it would be, but it was normal to me. Gentle even.

Going forward a few weeks, I started staying there more, he apologised for treating me how he did that first night and eventually he told me he loved me. I think I would have exploded into gold dust right there and then if I could have. I was so happy. We were perfect. Him as he was and I as the person I presented myself as.

He told me from day one I could do just about anything and we could sort it out, except for breaking his trust. That was the one thing that was irreparable to him. I panicked, knowing I had already done that. I was so panicked that I made the decision to believe those lies too. They had to be real or he would leave.

A few months later and some not-so-careful deliberation and I was living in a remote town in the middle of the Australian desert with him and his old friend. I was ecstatic. This was becoming more and more like the fairy tale, book worthy love story I had always longed for. I was forgetting I had even done anything wrong. I will spare all the details of exactly what transpired in those next months but I was discovered. I had also been speaking to someone I had said I had cut contact with, I had said some things about Jacob that were unfair and cruel. He uncovered all the lies I had told to make myself seem pure and hurt. He even gave me several chances to be honest. He prompted and encouraged me to be truthful so that he could feel there was hope. I never took a single one of those prompts until he outright told me he knew about something.

I moved back to Tasmania. He was bound for Perth. He said in three months we could reconnect and see how it went. I asked if we were single, he said yes. I told him I was going to show him I was serious by acting like I was in a relationship for those three months. I caught a bus to the airport before the sun came up and watched his shadow fade away as we pulled out from the station.

I had never felt more hollow and hopeless.

I spent the night in Melbourne. I called on two friends. One from long ago who knows me better than I know myself and the other who I had met once before while he was busking. We all had a picnic and stayed out late talking to homeless people.

My old friend kept me company through the night and made sure I didn’t harm myself. The next day, we had coffee with one of the homeless men from the night before and then he went home, leaving me with our new acquaintance. I soon found myself under a staircase with a young man who was smoking ice in front of me. I was so intensely scared that I searched for anyone to call. I called the busker. I found him and we wandered around. We explored big buildings with dress codes we could never meet and we even busked together. When it came time for me to leave for my plane, I went to hug him goodbye. He kissed me. It wasn’t totally unexpected and I didn’t stop him. I just left.

Once I arrived back home, things only got worse. My self-harming became more regular, as did my night terrors, panic attacks and emotional outbursts. Eventually, I gathered all the medicine I could find and swallowed it all. I ended up in the back of an ambulance as always, followed by the ER.

My mother called Jacob and he was at my side within the week.

He began living with us. He said he wanted to try to be together again. I was happy but I knew there was more he didn’t know about. At least I thought. It turns out he was still prompting me to tell him things he already knew. But he had just come back and I was even more scared to lose him than the first time.

We fought and I exploded in anger most nights. I continued to self-harm and overdose on pain killers. I thought I was just bat-shit insane until one hospital visit with one particular psychiatric nurse. I told him that many people and GPs had suggested Bipolar as a possibility. He chuckled and told me that wasn’t it. He told me he was almost certain it was BPD. He talked to me about what that meant, how it happens and most importantly that it can be fixed. It wouldn’t be easy and it would take years but it can go away with the right help.

I can’t remember ever getting better news. I had a chance.

I had started seeing a psychologist just a bit before that hospital visit and I felt hopeful going to him with Jacob in one hand and this insight in the other.  I actually had things to target and focus on. Exercises to try and strategies to test. Thing is, there was yet even more that I would be confronted about. I didn’t even realise how much I had hidden until it was laid out in front of me. Jacob kept swallowing his issues and staying with me. He kept trying because I was too. We both fought, remember?

Well here is the kicker. He had gone away a few weeks earlier and I had a breakdown over an aspect of my life. My sexuality. So how did I choose to handle it? By exploring it on an online video chat. Nothing too lude transpired, at least on my end. But it was vulgar and degrading at best. Jacob discovered that too.

Despite being told over and over again that this will be easier to fix if I am just honest, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was like two voices in control of my body. The first would insist on being logical and honest. That voice was almost always overpowered by the fear in me. The BPD. It would take control of my words and my body and suddenly I was a bystander. She really is a bitch.

Now here we are, months and months later. My therapy has improved my state of mind in such drastic ways, I know that I won’t make those same errors and I feel so much more in control of myself. The only thing is, Jacob is at the end of his ropes. He tried to overcome this for so long that it became something he shouldn’t have to overcome anymore.

He ended it the other night and I had a dramatic anxiety attack and the living room floor.

When I came back to bed and stopped sobbing, I took a few deep breaths and told him that we should end it because it was harming him too much. That I agreed he needed to go.

That was the hardest thing I had ever had to say.

I do not want him to go. Not even a little bit. Just the thought of it brings me undone each time.

But I promised I would not hurt myself and I would not end my life or fall into old habits. I know he was worried about it.

I know I am right for him now but now he needs to be alone.

I love this man so much that the thought of another person being as close to me as he has been in any capacity makes me shudder. I love him so much that he is the only one that I have ever been able to picture in my future. I trust him with all the fragile parts of myself and know he would never try to hurt me. I know he has tried every step of the way. I know he loves me too. Nobody has the same warmth, the same skin, the same intensely beautiful smile or the same mind as him. Nobody could even come close. But all that deserves a chance to flourish and grow. He deserves to be happy and pursue the amazing future I know he has in front of him – and it is because I love him that I know I need to let him go for it to happen.

BPD SYMPTOMS:

·         Affective (emotional) instability including intense, episodic emotional anguish, irritability, and anxiety/ panic attacks

·         Anger that is inappropriate, intense and difficult to control

·         Chronic feelings of emptiness

·         Emotional over reactivity (“emotional storms”), emotional responses that are occasionally under reactive, and chronic boredom

·         Impulsive behaviours that are harmful to you or to others.

·         Self-damaging acts such as excessive spending, unsafe and inappropriate sexual conduct, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating, and recurrent suicidal behaviour, gestures, threats, or self-injurious behaviour

·         You may engage in other impulsive behaviours such as actions that are harmful and destructive to yourself, others or to property.

·         You may have an inaccurate view of yourself and others, and experience a high level of suspiciousness and other misperceptions.

·         A markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of yourself (your identity), and Paranoid ideation or severe dissociative episodes (transient and stress related)

·         You may consistently experience expectations of negative and harmful attitudes and behaviours from most people

·         Impaired social reasoning under stress

·         Impaired memory under stress

·         You may experience tumultuous and very unstable relationships. 

·         You may engage in frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment

·         Your relationships may be very intense, unstable, and alternate between the extremes of over idealizing and undervaluing people who are important to you

·         You may recognise that you have overly dependent and clinging behaviour in important relationships.

[ladystylestores]

Sephora’s Third Black-Owned Hair-Care Brand, by Maeva Heim – WWD

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Sephora’s latest cool-girl brand is pro “frizz.” 

The line, called Bread Beauty Supply, was founded by Maeva Heim, a Black-Australian woman and beauty industry veteran who struggled to find brands that resonated with her when she transitioned from relaxed to natural hair. She wanted to create something that provided a simple and fast regimen with clean ingredients as an alternative to product- and manipulation-heavy hair routines that are common in the natural hair community, she said. 

“Black women have never really been part of conversations around that ‘lazy girl hair,’” Heim said in an interview over Zoom. “It’s always been very much about a lot of product, a lot of manipulation, and I don’t have time for that. We’ve got so many more important things to do…in order for hair to be quick, we have to embrace this idea of frizz and what that means to us, and what our hair does naturally.”

So, she founded Bread, which launches today on sephora.com and on its own web site, BreadBeautySupply.com, with three stockkeeping units. It will later roll into about 100 Sephora doors, and has secured more than $2 million in funding led by Imaginary Ventures, the VC firm of Net-a-porter founder Natalie Massenet that also backs Everlane, Glossier, Mejuri and Kosas.

“It’ll be a long-term challenge for us to really flip that narrative and say that there’s nothing wrong with frizz. Embrace the frizz,” said Maeva Heim, founder of Bread. The products from Bread include Hair Wash, Hair Mask and Hair Oil.  courtesy

Heim designed Bread specifically for Black women with textured hair who have curl types between 3a and 4c. The product lineup includes Hair Wash with argan oil and aloe vera for $20; Hair Mask, a deep conditioner with starflower oil and Australian kakadu plum — which Heim notes moisturizes without being heavy — for $28, and Hair Oil, marketed as “like a lipgloss but for your hair,” with kakadu plum and safflower oil, $24. The products will also be sold in a kit that includes a bread-shaped bag and oversize vegan satin scrunchie called the Bread Puff for $58. Bread is part of the Clean at Sephora offering.

The brand name is meant as a nod toward simplification, Heim said. “This is kind of one of our slogans, which is that ‘we’re here for the essentials, the must-haves — like Bread’ — [that’s] where the name comes from,” Heim said.  

The products smell like Fruit Loop cereal milk for an element of nostalgia, and the wash and mask are housed in pouches featuring Black models. 

“When I was thinking about the brand and knowing that I wanted it to exist in a Sephora — and Sephora’s not alone in this — but I don’t think that there is any kind of major retailer where this woman is going to walk into a store and know that there are hair-care products for her there,” Heim said. “I wanted to make sure that if she was going to Sephora for skin care or for makeup, that this would catch her eye and she would see herself represented on the product straight away. That if there was no other brand collateral or messaging around, she would see that and be like, ‘Oh great, that’s for me.’” 

Bread hits Sephora shelves following the retailer’s commitment to the 15 Percent Pledge, the effort launched by Brother Vellies founder Aurora James asking retailers to dedicate 15 percent of shelf space to Black-owned brands. Bread becomes the eighth Black-owned brand at Sephora, and the third Black-owned brand in hair.

Heim first met the retailer at a Teen Vogue event, and approached a buyer to say that she had an idea for a brand and would be in San Francisco the following week — which at the time, was not yet true, she said. “I read years ago that Jen Atkin had pitched her hair-care brand to Sephora and didn’t have any products yet. And I thought, ‘Well, maybe that’s something I can do,’” Heim said.

She secured the meetings, and connected with hair-care merchant and Sephora Accelerate program, which Heim completed.

Bread Beauty Supply becomes the eighth Black-owned brand at Sephora, and the third Black-owned brand in hair.  courtesy

“[Bread] is not trying to be everything to everyone,” said Kelly Dill, principal at Imaginary, which invested in the line early this year.

“Maeva is very specific about who she wants to serve and how she wants to serve them — that comes through on the packaging, in the name, in the product itself. She’s here for women with textured hair. I have straight hair, I’m Asian, and I can use the product…but she’s not trying to pretend it’s for everyone. It’s really speaking to the consumer who hasn’t been spoken to, that’s what really resonated with me. In a pre-launch business you’re investing in the founder, and I was really investing in Maeva,” Dill said.

“I’m not investing in a white man trying to sell to Black women. I want to invest in a founder who has the passion and the story and the product,” Dill said.

Dill noted that women with textured hair have long been underserved. “There are numerous cool, edgy brands for women with straight hair, and that didn’t exist targeting Black women or women with curly hair,” Dill said.

Heim, who grew up helping her mom in her African hair braiding salon in Perth, Australia, said she had been chemically relaxing her hair since she was about six years old until a few years ago, when relaxer exploded in her suitcase on a trip from New York to Colorado. 

“At the time, maybe because I was in nature, but also because I had been transitioning a lot of my skin-care products over to things that were a little more clean, I realized that I was putting this product on my head every three to six months for a good 20 years and that my scalp was also my skin and it was probably something I should consider not doing anymore,” Heim said.

She went into a store looking to buy products specifically for textured hair and found the selection to be “dated.” 

“I felt like I had gone in a time machine back to 1995 and nothing had really changed,” Heim said. 

“I just wanted to know how to wash my hair and nobody was really providing that in a very simple way,” she added.

Online forums centered around natural hair could sometimes seem judgmental and glorify “really done curl” types, Heim said, but would often exclude other hair textures. “But there is this whole community out there that is like, ‘No, I want to stop using relaxer, but I also just want to do whatever I want with my hair,’” she said.  

For Heim and the shoppers Bread is targeting, that means embracing texture, including frizz. 

“There’s this idea of what is aspirational in not just beauty, but specifically hair…it tends to be very glossy and photoshopped. You have to have these perfect styled curls that don’t have a single bit of frizz and actually, the woman that we’re speaking to doesn’t really care about that anymore,” Heim said. “It’ll be a long-term challenge for us to really flip that narrative and say that there’s nothing wrong with frizz. Embrace the frizz.”

With Bread, she wanted to make wash day quick, she said, but had found that co-washes didn’t always leave hair feeling clean, and shampoos left her with dry and knotted hair. “That would add like, an hour, to my routine trying to brush out the tangles,” Heim said. Hair Wash is designed as a hybrid product — moisturizing, but with a slight foam. Heim describes the texture as “liquid marshmallow.” 

The Hair Mask is a deep conditioner that is meant to be left on for between five and 10 minutes. The Hair Oil is multipurpose — it can be used post wash and in-between washes, but also left on for a few hours as a pre-wash treatment to soften hair, Heim said.

Heim declined to comment on sales projections, but industry sources estimated the line could do between $3 million and $5 million in its first 12 months.

Going forward, Heim intends to keep the sku count low, but plans to branch into other categories and other curl types, she said.

“We have always wanted to be a brand that would eventually be all-encompassing…beyond hair, there’s so much opportunity in other categories to provide these better products and talk to this customer in the way that everybody else gets spoken to,” Heim said.

For more from WWD.com, see: 

Sephora Takes 15 Percent Pledge, Will Dedicate More Shelf Space to Black-Owned Beauty Businesses

During Coronavirus, Investment Money Floods Into Wellness

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With regards to my very own (non-existent) love life, I am incredibly customary. I've never been to a swingers club with my accomplices, could never have an open relationship and I can get envious. One sweetheart worked that out when he wrongly gawped at a lady for around 45 seconds excessively long. I swiped his Prada sunnies off his face, woke up them into equal parts and tossed them from the (moving) vehicle window. 

In my previous years as an escort, I've met couples who are NOT the envious sort. Ladies who wouldn't fret their spouses taking a gander at other ladies yet greet a lady wholeheartedly (and legs) into their conjugal bed. 

  I've met ladies who get turned on by watching their spouses have intercourse with other ladies. 

What's more, I've met ladies who have booked escorts for their spouses as a birthday present. 

I know this since I have been that other lady. Furthermore, brace yourself for what I'm about to tell you, couples that play together, remain together. 

A couple I've referenced already are Sway and Belinda, in their 50s, who have been as one 17 years. Their mystery - separated from not living respectively - is to book an escort to invest some energy with at regular intervals. 

  When I met them, they turned up radiating in their Sunday best, with chocolates and a container of non-alcoholic wine for me, with a little thankyou card. 

Belinda did the majority of the talking. She conceded she cherished Weave so much, seeing him turned on turned HER on. 

They found escorts a year back and didn't simply hit the sack with them, they believed they fortified with them. 

  "What was that name of that decent escort we met in Brisbane Sway? The one with the huge phony boobs. Goodness she was a stunning young lady, so all around voyaged … " 

Their eyes would illuminate as they related each understanding. 

"We got to a phase in our relationship where our sexual coexistence was getting stale so we chosen to have a trio." 

In any case, why pay for an escort when you can meet somebody in a bar or ask a sweetheart? 

I read some place stressing an escort is going to take your better half resembles thinking an instructor needs to take your children. 

  It's an occupation, that's it, not all that much. What's more, when the escort leaves, she isn't pining for your significant other, trust me. She is pondering what she will have for supper or at long last farting in the wake of holding it in for a couple of hours. (Escorts fart as well). 

There is no enthusiastic connection and limits are immovably set up. 

  My inquiries would consistently be for the lady. What are your guidelines? What isn't permitted? 

I would measure from the lady whether it was her choice - or his. In the event that it was his, I wouldn't consent to see them. The lady must be the one in control. On the off chance that there was even a little gleam, only an indication, that she was doing this for him, I'd be out. 

No escort could ever need to be in a room with a spouse who would not like to be there. Truth be told, it goes the other way. The man is practically undetectable (a lot to his alleviation, as the spouses are constantly petrified). 

  Another couple that stays in my brain is Thorn and Linx from Perth. They came to me when their marriage was at stalemate. They had no clue how to fix it. The adoration was there however so was the smugness. They had three children, occupied occupations and no sexual coexistence. 

They even conceded separation was a choice. Welcoming an outsider was a hazard. 

In my years as an escort, I met with them multiple times more than three years. Also, the last time I saw them, they resembled a fresh out of the box new couple. The flash had returned. 

  They disclosed to me they had kept on observing escorts together; they would make a night of it. They'd advise the children they were headed toward night out. Supper, drinks - and a lodging. Yet, it wasn't simply female escorts, Linx needed Thorn to encounter male escorts as well. 

Spike resembled another lady. She had shed her mumsy skin and I could tell she felt sure and provocative. Linx was simply glad he had his better half back. 

  I've not met one couple where connecting with an outsider hasn't worked. I would go as far to state it has improved their relationship significantly. 

I additionally comprehend it isn't some tea. I likewise get it's a hazard. So everything comes down to arrangement and arranging. 

For the spouses out there - be exceptionally cautious how to word it to your significant other. "I need to do this for you, I couldn't want anything more than to see you with another lady," is superior to looking through a site slobbering saying, "I need that one … " 

What's more, spouses, you take control. This is your gathering. You pick the woman, you be the contact, and you are the one to issue the principles and limits. In case you're disturbed, nobody is cheerful.

  In my eight years spent as an escort, one of the most well-known misguided judgments about me is that I should be some sort of sex crack with a wide range of unusual deceives at my disposal. 

That I can swing from ceiling fixtures, shuffle, twist around in reverse (actually), perform bizarre and wacky sex deceives you just observe on more than 18 destinations, all with sucking my belly in and blazing a phony grin. 

I prefer not to break your fantasies. (Alright, I realize how to hold my belly in … ) 

Provided that there is one thing I have found out about what men don't need in bed, truth be told, it's energy. 

  In the event that anything, and I would say, they run a mile from anything excessively unusual. Their needs, sexual and enthusiastic, are in reality incredibly, basic. As I said in my first book Snared, the effortlessness of men is here and there unreasonably complex for ladies to get it. 

I recall once a customer named Daz, a delicate and kind man who had headed out 312 kilometers to go through three hours with me, rang me the following day after our date to grumble. 

"Sorry Samantha, yet I discovered you excessively explicitly forceful," he said. 

I wound up saying 'sorry' to Daz for my sexual fierceness (which truly was me attempting to sprightly things up in the room or else I would no uncertainty nod off). 

Try not to misunderstand me, men love sex. In any case, with respect to pornography star moves? Spare that for dream. 

I would say, and I can just discuss my experience, this is what men love the most when the room entryway closes. 

  THE Sweetheart EXPERIENCE 

 Alright, I'm not discussing the sort of sweetheart that has a migraine consistently similarly as the lights go off. In any case, the sort of sweetheart that kisses, nestles and takes things gradually in the room. 

"Hustle just a bit and get it over with", "Is it in yet?" and "I don't need my tea to get cold" are not things that men like to hear in bed. 

They are very mindful that the genuine demonstration of sex keeps going only a couple of minutes, so they like to develop to that minute gradually. The most widely recognized inquiry they pose to me is "Do you kiss?" At that point they state, "I simply need somebody I have association with, who I can converse with." 

One customer rang me to gripe about "a portion of these youthful escorts who simply need to have intercourse!" 

"There's no discussion, no visiting. They simply need to get directly at it!" they said. 

Clever truly, astonishing no. Men like a kiss, a nestle and a visit considerably more than ladies do. 

  THEY Cherish ORAL 

 On YOU. Men appear to be famished of it. The wedded ones says the missus has taken that dish off the menu for good. The single ones can't get enough and like to learn. 

Furthermore, quit agonizing over what you look like and taste down there. They Couldn't care less. 

They couldn't care less about whether you've had a two-piece wax or whether you've quite recently douched yourself or you're not wearing attractive enough underpants - they truly couldn't care less. 

All they care about is would they say they are doing it right and would you say you are getting a charge out of it? 

Actually, the main solicitation I used to get as an escort was not to spruce up in tights and suspenders however to wear my sweat-soaked old exercise center apparatus - the sweatier the better. 

  MAKING YOU Climax 

 Nothing - and I don't mean anything - turns a man on more than giving his accomplice delight. He needs you to get muddled, clingy, grimy, sweat-soaked and to have some good times. Most men get off on their accomplice getting off, instead of making it about them. 

Truth be told, I've had men state they couldn't care less about whether they climax or not as long as their accomplice is having fun. 

You can wear the hottest underwear, the most noteworthy heels, the most costly scent, the ideal blow dry; yet toward the day's end on the off chance that you aren't having a ball in the room, he won't.

The Lebanon local, who presently lives in the US, worked in the porno business for a quarter of a year, yet regardless of her "brief" spell, she's as yet perhaps the greatest name subsequent to picking up shame for partaking in an intimate moment while wearing a hijab. 

A long time in the wake of stopping, Khalifa keeps on being positioned No. 2 on Pornhub for most looked through stars in 2018, as indicated by Bad habit. 

  "Individuals believe I'm racking in millions from pornography," Khalifa, 26, said a tweet. 

"I made an Aggregate of around $12,000 in the business and never observed a penny again after that. "Trouble getting an ordinary line of work in the wake of stopping pornography was … terrifying." 

Her remarks copped significant fire online with some Twitter clients saying the cash she has made since doing pornography was an immediate outcome from her X-evaluated previous vocation. 

"Actually nobody knew who you were before you did pornography, and positively nobody would know who you are today on the off chance that you never did pornography. You're just preposterous on the off chance that you don't understand that," one individual said. 

  "Would you have 2.8 Million supporters without the Business however?" asked another. 

"Despite everything she utilizes her stage name meaning regardless she benefits off of her time in the business regardless of whether she's not doing pornography," a third remarked. 

Khalifa, who in 2018 functioned as a games moderator on YouTube channel Complex News, hit back saying she's "not mourning" on what she earned. "In any case, you obviously have further issues with me past this, so good karma with your harsh life," she included. 

The online life star, who tweets as Mia K. what's more, has 2.7 million Twitter adherents, proceeded to clarify she was "never guaranteed millions" of dollars nor did she "anticipate" it. 

"I'm simply explaining normal misinterpretations about me, and thus, about the business," Khalifa stated, while including she was associated with pornography "so quickly". 

"Be that as it may, my activities spread quickly and I keep on being positioned (genuinely bewilders me) 5 years in the wake of leaving the business. 

"This is the reason individuals think despite everything I perform." 

  FROM PORNSTAR TO SPORTS Moderator 

  The tweets got Khalifa to incline on Twitter on Monday night and were joined by a YouTube video, including a meeting she allowed not long ago where she "reveals to her story just because". 

"In 2014, Mia Khalifa made world news when she got demise dangers from ISIS subsequent to showing up in a porno wearing a hijab," a portrayal peruses. "Unexpectedly, Mia plunks down with Megan Abbott to disclose to her story." 

In the meeting, Khalifa depicted her change out of pornography - calling it "alarming". 

"I didn't have a clue what I would do," she said. 

Her notorious hijab scene - which was all the while earning Islamic State dangers as of August 2018 - is the thing that at last made Khalifa leave the business. 

"The defining moment, obviously, was the point at which I did the hijab scene," she said. "That is the point at which the ISIS demise dangers came in, the majority of the news broke out, all around. Not simply in America. 

  "It was slanting on Twitter, it was everywhere throughout the news. I was restricted from a bunch of nations … Egypt … Afghanistan … " 

Khalifa clarified numerous Muslim nations were profoundly insulted by it - "and I'm Catholic". "What I really said when they proposed the scene to me, and this is verbatim, was: 'You motherf***ers will get me executed.'" 

Depicting her brisk discovered notoriety, Khalifa said the day after the scene dropped is when everything exploded. 

She went from having only 400 devotees on Instagram to 200,000 in only three days. 

"At that point it simply continued snowballing until I was at 2,000,000 like a half year later," she said. 

"This was after I had stopped pornography. It simply continued developing, and developing, and developing - and afterward my Instagram record was hacked by ISIS." 

Khalifa proceeded to turn into a moderator on Outside the field of play, a day by day sports appear on Complex News' YouTube channel, in the wake of leaving the pornography business and she wants to keep working in that field. 

"I unquestionably need to develop my vocation," she said. 

  KHALIFIA TO GET Hitched 

 In May, Khalifa likewise got drew in to her intensely inked Swedish culinary expert beau Robert Sandberg. 

In an Instagram post, he stated: "We went to Chicago this end of the week and had a brilliant supper at Smyth. I proposed to @miakhalifa and she said YES! 

"The ring was covered up in a bowl of dried fixings and turned out as 'another serving'. Mia was excessively inquisitive and to anxious to taste so she began to eat the unpalatable fixings. 

"I advised her not do it and afterward I put the ring on the finger. I adore you so much :heart:" 

The Lebanese-conceived pornstar turned games moderator, appeared to be energized after she took to her very own Instagram saying she didn't see it coming.