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#so i wanted to make it clear that my vision of 'queer' absolutely includes them. that when i say 'lgbtq community' i mean them.

petersthree · 3 years

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Okay so I’ve seen a lot of conflicting responses to Buddie this episode, from it being clear to people that they’re getting together, to thinking the writers have unintentionally messed things up to thinking it’s purely queerbait.

And I get the different responses, I do - tbh I’m somehow in two camps, where I simultaneously believe it’s a slowburn but I also think it’s bait. And those are two very different opinions to have and it got me thinking about why we have these different responses as fans to the possibility of a queer ship (namely two men who would presumably be bi/pan) being canon.

While people talk about how it’s just people wanting two characters to kiss or entitled fans - sure, that’s existent in every fandom, but I think there’s also a very real fear from queer fans who don’t want to get their hopes up and I d on’t love how the conversation has shifted to calling queer fans stupid for having hope, so I kind of wanted to break it down into 3 aspects that I’ve noticed:

How writers portray bi characters and why that makes fans hesitant to have hope

What queerbait actually means as a concept

How much “slowburn” has changed in procedurals

1. How writers portray bi characters

Something I’ve thought about a lot are the bi characters I’ve seen on TV - Darryl (CEG), Sara Lance (Arrow), Lucifer (Lucifer), just to name a few. These are great characters imo and I think you’d have a fun time watching but a thing to note is that all these characters were established as bi within the first season of their respective shows and they all fairly quickly fell into a clear romantic ship as well (with the exception of Sara as she spanned multiple shows). It may have taken time for them to say the word bisexual, but it was still clear these characters were queer fairly quickly on. You could maybe argue that Lucifer was a slowburn, but then (while it does not take away from him being bi/pan so do not use this as an excuse to be shitty about him) it’s a m/f ship which is still not the point of my post, to find a m/m or f/f ship that has that same treatment.

Some writers have done it - like for Valencia in CEG, or Petra in JTV - when they saw that fans read them this way, but trying to find those characters were few and far between, and when I looked at popular queerbait ships (whether or not they actually are queerbait) it’s usually ships where the characters are largely viewed as bisexual. A lot of times this also comes with pushback from both straight and to be frank, other queer fans as well. Straight fans don’t always see the signs that queer fans do, so to them a queer character who hasn’t been explicitly clear from the start comes out of nowhere. And what I’ve seen from certain queer fans are concerns that people aren’t appreciating the canon queer characters in a show - and I think there is a conversation to be had about that, but I don’t think the response should also be about then demanding less representation for people either.

If we go back to 911, people talk a lot about how it has canon queer characters, which it definitely does - Michael, Hen, Josh, Karen, and David are all canonically gay/lesbian and that’s awesome, and we absolutely should talk about fans (white fans in particular) ignoring these characters. It also does not change the fact that none of these characters are bisexual and that is the representation people are looking for. Both of these things are true - these characters are often under appreciated in canon AND people deserve bisexual representation. They don’t contradict each other and to act like one negates the other does a huge disservice.

And even if a character was made bisexual in the canon text we don’t get that slowburn. This may be true for things like Leverage, or LOK, but there’s also a real fact of censorship that affected these shows and the fact that general audiences may not understand the queer text tjat the writers intended. It doesn’t make the writing any less wonderful or the ships any less poignant or beautiful or important, and there’s ofc shows like She Ra that made this more obvious (or the.....mess that was Supernatural that made it. Half true?) but these are still real things that should be acknowledged on why people are so hesitant to call it slowburn - because it’s something most queer fans haven’t SEEN DONE, because m/f ships will get that care for slowburn when it’s done but it’s not done for m/m or f/f ships in that same capacity.

2. What queerbait is

This one’s fun because I don’t think many people understand what it is, but queerbait is very dependent on the intentions of the writers/creators/etc. - which tbh can be hard to gauge, because a genuine intention that ended up not happening or someone baiting fans or someone trying to support all ships and not be rude all have very different intentions but to a fan who only sees bits and pieces of this person on social media, it can be hard to gauge.

Honestly with how much the 4th wall gets broken because of social media now I’d personally say we’ve probably moved into a different definition of queerbait - unintentional vs intentional - because we’re at a point where a show knows what ships are popular and at what level of excitement fans are for it - but that being said, there’s still a clear spectrum of intent. And imo? I don’t think 911 has that intent of queerbait - whether it’s a slowburn or they have a different vision for buddie that I (probably) won’t agree with remains to be seen, but this show usually treats its storylines with care. Are they perfect at it? No, definitely not, I definitely think that they’ve dropped the ball a few times (especially with just how many characters they have lmao), but they also clearly do their storylines with earnest and with genuine care for these characters.

Is 911 getting them together? I want to say yes. I don’t think this was always the plan, just something that they decided along the way, but I also don’t think that changes anything about the ship. A lot of people point to Tim Minear being vague about the ship, or the actors and their interpretations, but 1. We have no idea what they’ve been told about Buddie moving forward and 2. No show runner is going to spoil their show that much. 911 may be keeping quiet because they have a different plan for buddie, sure, but also maybe because they’re still figuring out how exactly they want to do this and/or they want to make this slowburn and don’t want to give it away.

3. Slowburn in procedurals

I feel like this is something that procedurals have started shying away from, but slowburns used to be very common - Bones, Castle, their ships didn’t get together for literal years, but that’s just not something that many shows do nowadays, even for m/f ships. Even things like Deckerstar will have the characters get together after ~3 seasons and explore the relationship onwards, whereas a few years ago, y ou’d pr obably be watching a sh ow and it’d take them 7 seasons to get together. My assumption for this is that shows are afraid of getting canceled, but there’s been a pretty big shift in getting a couple together after say, 6 seasons to now getting them together about halfway through the show. I don’t think either one is bad or good - in good writers’ hands, either can be amazing - but that shift has made it so that a lot of younger fans in particular, I think, don’t fully recognize slowburn when they see it.

911 as a show tends to run pretty fast - it kind of has to with its depth of characters they have - but when they do have slower running storylines they really do make use of that as well. Bobby’s addiction is something that’s always going to be present in his character, May’s suicide attempt was brought up again front and center after 3 seasons, even Chim’s dynamic with the Lees was brought up again and it was reinforced again that they’re his family. There are certain storylines that have to be continuous and aren’t a one and done type of thing, and that includes Buck and Eddie, especially if you want to establish them as queer to a general audience who doesn’t think about these things.

And honestly, despite my fears, I think they are laying groundwork there. We have Buck learning to be more confident in his relationships, we have Eddie ready to date and learning to follow his own heart, we have Buck and Eddie both establishing that Buck is family and will always be there for Christopher. These are pretty big steps to do for a ship and we’ll obviously have to see how the show goes forward but they’ve already insinuated Eddie and Ana are breaking up, I’m sure Taylor and Buck may last a season and be over, but we do have to see what this next season brings. Do I think they’d say this? No, definitely not.

tl;dr:

911 is a show with good viewership, but there’s always a possibility they can’t continue with their season and then their promises would feel like a lie. Or they may still be hammering out the details as this season hasn’t been written. Or they may just simply not want to spoil their show, or they don’t want people criticizing a story before it’s finished, all of these could be reasons. The showrunners, writers, actors, ultimately they owe nothing to us as a fandom to potentially spoil their series, or do something, change it or their schedule for it, and get accused of bait.

But it also doesn’t change why fans are wary of this storyline either, and I wish people would have more nuance and compassion for fans who are worried about queerbait (whether they think it’s not queerbait and dislike people worrying about it or if they do and are calling people idiots for believing it). There’s a lot of reasons why fans are wary and don’t want to have hope, and it’s not necessarily about 911 specifically as it is a pattern of writing seen in other pieces that have fans worried. These things can all coexist and I wish we as fandom in general could acknowledge that, because pretending that they don’t and criticizing each other/people’s intentions or knowledge when they have certain expectations also doesn’t do much to help.

#warning this is long so if you read this bless you #but also i wrote this forever so maybe give a read?#it gets into buddie more specifically at the end so bear with me lmao #buddie #911 fox #fandom #queerbait #janie overthinks media #buddie meta #911 on fox

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sophiexteresa · 4 years

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Thomas Sanders Instagram Q&A Transcript

From @thatsthat24’s Instagram story, 25/8/2020. Questions in bold. Text added to the story in (parenthesis/brackets), and descriptive info in *italics*. I tried uploading the video(s) too, but Tumblr is having issues, so here’s the transcript only!

Thomas: I had some time this evening so I figured, hey, why not? Another lil’ Q an’ A, so if you want to ask a question *posh French voice* be my guest!

When approximately will the next sanders sides be out? Very good question! Uh, we are aiming this for a late September release, that’s what we’re all working towards.

Favourite musical you have been in or just favourite musical in general? This is really tough, I can’t decide. I’m between Rent where I was in the ensemble, Peter Pan where I played Slightly Soiled, which was just one of the lost boyos — boyos? Boys — and, uh, Into The Woods where I played Cinderella’s prince and that’s where Roman’s first costume came from.

Are you ever gonna due your hair purple again? I loved it! Yes! I miss the purple hair too.

Do you love me? *laughing* Yes of course! I do love me.

What would each of the sides’ reaction be to seeing the Grand Canyon? *speaking very quickly* Roman would be revelling that we made the journey, Patton would be marvelling at the memories being made, Logan would be telling you to look at these fascinating signs for important information, Virgil would be telling you to ‘get back from those cliffs!’, Janus would be telling you to take pictures to make it look like you’re next to the cliff, ‘for clout’, and Remus would be like *Remus voice* ‘you could push somebody and get away with it’.

Also when will we get more Picani, I miss him? You and me both, Bri, and honestly with the amount of amazing cartoons that have come out recently *sighs while smiling* yeah, I am a-hankering (?) to get back to Emile!

How have you been doing, like really? Mental health is important as you teach us: I feel like everybody’s kinda struggling with mental health right now, especially people in the USA with COVID. Uhm *clears throat* for me I continuously struggle with the balance between work and leisure time, um, social media makes that difficult, blurs the lines, and I’m working on it.

Do you have any tattoos? Umm, I don’t, uh, I struggle with the permanence of tattoos. And like do I, can I, make a decision that I like? But! There are tattoos that I might like. Where I’d put them, I have no idea, umm, but I think like, maybe like, little stars!

What rank of “Gay” are you? Big gay? What rank? *speechless pause* uh... General. You know? I wanna do my duty. Come back a hero. An all-American Queero *gets an idea* *roughly quoting Hamilton* Queer comes the General!

Can you please make Logan day something Patton would say? *Logan’s voice* Something Patton would say? Umm... please, I request more baked goods from the kitchen so that I can fill Thomas’s body with more trans-fats at 3 am. I don’t know, I don’t like this game.

Have you ever dated a girl? *awkward silence* I have. It was pretty uneventful.

Do you miss your friends? *laughs* Oh... *face crumples as if he’s about to cry*

What are you voice acting in or are you now allowed to say? Not until tomorrow.

When did you know you were gay? I think I answered this one on the last Q&A, but it was early. I was like, 9 or 10 at least.

When will we see Gavin? Gavin has started school! He’s back in his hometown, so I don’t know when I’m gonna see him. He’s still getting taller — I can actually include a picture of him that his mom sent me after he got a new little hairdo *insert photo of an awesome Gavin here*

Do you miss vine? For like, sentimental reasons, yes. Uh, I mean, technically it had its issues and I don’t miss being restricted to 6 seconds anymore *laughs*

What has been your favourite part of the day? My favourite part of today was actually... I came up with this last minute short video, and I got it done and I sent it to some friends and they really liked it. I have to save it until Thursday thought, but it’s just nice to come up with stuff that makes your friends laugh.

Janus acting like Remus? *Remus’ voice* Remus here! Looks like the Dukey just dropped in! *Remus’ laugh* *Takes a breath and snaps into Janus’ character* I spend a lot of time with him so I’ve had a lot of practise.

Why do I feel like we’re gonna have another angsty Virgil moment? When is Virgil not being angsty...?

Please can you say trans rights? Uh, heck yah trans rights! I, uh, this one was very simple but I wanted to say it!

Do you think Virgil would be into anime? Actually, if you remember from, uh, Accepting Anxiety, uh, part 2, there’s actually a Death Note poster in his room, so he definitely likes some anime.

Hi! Can you say hola to the Hispanic fanders in el vecindario fander? Please? We love you! Oh my gosh, *a very naturally american pronunciation* hola! that’s very kind of you guys. I appreciate all of the support you guys give, and I love all of you guys.

STORYTIME! I love you: *upbeat voice* Storytime! I love you back.

How gay are you? Like, 15 gay! I rank General!

How did you end up meeting and babysitting Gavin? Gavin is actually Leo’s nephew, so he would come up here, uh, during the holidays or during the summer, and alternate being baby-sat between me and Leo’s mom - his grandma.

What was the inspo for Janus’ outfit? Ooh, that’s a really good question, uh... Joan had a vision in their mind for almost kind of like this early 20th century or late 19th century kinda Jack the Ripper vibe.

Any advice for gaybies to fit in with society? Don’t apologise for being yourself. If people have an issue, that’s their issue that they have to work through. Do not apologise for being yourself.

What type of gay are you? (Math gay, plant gay, caffine gay, etc): Wait, there’s such thing as a math gay? I am absolutely that, and I feel like I’m just gonna be naming traits about myself but I’m a trivia gay, a driving gay, apparently a math gay, a Disney gay *laughs* and a theatre gay.

Not a question but I’m glad to be alive at the same time as someone as great as you: Dude, this stuff is really sweet. *laughs* That’s really sweet, umm, trust me, I feel the same way about all of you. Honestly.

Why don’t you own a doggo yet? I... went to Petsmart today - I didn’t get an animal, but like... I’m thinking about it and this question is like... hmmm...

I’ve run out of cartoons to watch, any recommendations? Owl house! Owl house, owl house. I just tried it, and I immediately got hooked. Infinity train’s also a really good one, duck tales is amazing, and I’m getting ready to start Tangled: the animated series, so *shrugs*.

What is Patton’s opinion on rats? *adorable Patton voice, slowly zooming in on his face* They are tiny little squishy precious babies!!!

How do I ask people for their pronouns? I don’t know, I mean, I don’t think it’s like a big deal? I hope we could get to the point where we could just be like ‘what are your pronouns?’ and then they would tell you, and then you’d just, you know, carry on the rest of your conversation.

A circle has no bounds and it’s the same with your beauty: This is really precious, and it of course came from Nash (?) who is a poet, he published a lot of wonderful, wonderful poems on twitter, they are are amazing, and you are once again far too sweet, Nash.

Dream role? This is a pretty broad question, so maybe dream theatrical role would be Sweeny Todd, dream movie role would be anything in the marvel universe, uh, really just give me anything in any voice acting role, *smiling mischievously* egg rolls are also really good.

Can Remus please say ‘I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand’? *Remus voice* I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand! (love that vine)

Are there still plans for the Roman series? *nods* Oh, yeah, yeah, it was definitely hindered by COVID, uh, as was this Sanders Asides episode that’s coming up, which is why it’s taking longer in the editing stage, it is our, uh... strategy, for circumventing the obstacle, and we hope you like it.

Are we still getting an August playlist? Uh, heck yah you are! But honestly, actually, if you guys have any suggestions I should include in the playlist, lemme know! I’d be happy to get some suggestions - but yes. You will be definitely getting one.

May I please see your feet? *confused, slightly disgusted expression* *begins to move the camera away from his face* *holds up a tape measure, extended to 1 foot long* *grins*

Any shows on Netflix to recommend? Umbrella Academy is really good, Dragon Prince, uh, She-Ra, of course, umm The Hollow (?) is really cool, there’s a documentary about video games called High Score, that was really fun.

Roman, who would you say the gayest side is? *Roman’s voice* Oh, we’re all equally gay, okay? *chuckles* it’s a sexuality, not a personality trait. *takes a breath and speaks quickly* I’m just kidding it’s *sings* meeeeee!

If you were not a YouTuber, what would you see yourself doing and why? Uh, maybe putting my chemical engineering degree to some use. *laughs awkwardly* Uh, I went to school for 5 years for that one.

Like you literally make me so flipping happy: I’m glad! I don’t know what I’m doing to do that, but the feeling is absolutely mutual.

Can we have Virgil saying “Falsehood”? *hair already over one eye, in Virgil’s voice* Uh, c’mon, okay, sure. *very quietly and unenthusiastically* falsehood. Is that good? Is that? I don’t know, I don’t wanna steal his bit.

Which Sanders Side do you feel you embody most? Ah, I would probably say it’s either Patton or Roman because Patton can be definitely me, all the time, just really enthusiastic about things and finding things cute, but Roman... Roman’s sensitivity, oh. That’s me.

What was the first job you had? I actually worked as a page in a library! A- pages basically just kinda like, shelve books, check books out; it’s one of the chillest jobs I’ve ever had, one of my favourites, and my dad always had a lovely dad joke for it: ‘you’re working as a page, when do you get promoted to a book?’

How tall are you? I usually say 5ft 10, but I think I’m trying to be a little more realistic with myself. And I’m probably 5ft 9 and a half. *zooms in on his face, staring into the camera* I’m holding onto that half a foot for all dear life.

DROP THE SKIN ROUTINE PLEASE! This is very sweet, uh, I, *laughs nervously*, uh, I use Curology? They’re very nice. Umm, just... different kinds of lotion, I guess. (I suppose I should write down what I do lol)

Can we get a FALSEHOOD? *is standing* *clears throat* *points upwards from his eyeline* FALSEHOOD!

Do you have a boyfriend if not are you planning on dating soon? I do not, uh, dating is kinda difficult right now midst COVID, you know, kinda tough... love... in the time of Corona... umm, but, you know, option’s open.

When was your first kiss? I’m sure I’ve answered this somewhere, it was in high school, I might have been 15 or 16. It was with a girl. *Shakes head* And all I can remember is hitting teeth. A lot.

Can we get a super super vague hint about the new Asides episode? Alright, I’m getting ready to end the Q&A, so this, you know, if you’ve made it so far you deserve this super vague answer, umm... it includes a side that was not in the last episode. (This isn’t much, I apologise lol)

Thomas: And that is it for this evening! Thank you so much, you guys, for watching. I know some of you are still over in Europe watching and it’s like 4 in the morning, and I need to go to bed so thank you all so much for your questions - I gotta do this more often ‘cause I really enjoy it. Love you guys, gals, and non-binary pals. Peace out!

#edit: if you want to see the video(s) then please feel free to ask and i’ll try to send it to you! thanks so much #WOAH #This took me literaly hours to write up #probably 5 or so hours #i've been at it all day #anyhow tags!#thomas sanders #sanders sides #tss #tssides #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts janus #ts remus #ts virgil #ts #if there's any corrections i need to make please tell me since i'm too tired to re-read

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nosunsetsjustsilence · 4 years

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The Manics and Gender Identity, Part 1

There is a lot to unpack in Nicky and Richey’s early lyrics pertaining to gender, particularly in terms of identifying with women. Richey approaches the subject — as he is wont to do — with regard to the exploitation and degradation of the female image, while Nicky’s attitude is more inquisitive and casual. Both use lyrics to express their own personal “What if?”

Make no mistake: I’m not claiming that either Nicky or Richey is/was non-cis or trans or anything other than curious. But it’s clear from their personal lyric struggles and hard-won lifestyle choices that this was a different time they were living in. In the 1990s, gender identity was not a topic with any kind of mainstream recognition, at least beyond those who wanted a “sex change” or girls who were considered “one of the boys”. I think it’s fascinating, at least from my perspective, to go back and examine the themes of gender dysphoria, identity, and frustration in lyrics written before any of it was part of popular conversation, and in a way that emphasized the then absolute cultural disconnect between desire and society.

Also, it’s important to note that both Nicky and Richey have presented gender in ways that don’t have anything to do with lyrics. Nicky is comfortable in traditionally female clothing and wears dresses on and off stage; both band members wore makeup and feathers on a regular basis. I’ve tried to write about gender in terms of lyrics only, but at times I do take examples from visual media.

Finally, keep in mind that yours truly is non-binary, and the discussion will hopefully not reek of a cis person watching queer men from behind bars in a zoo.

Special thanks to @sinisterrouge for vetting this before I posted <3

Little Baby Nothing

Although Richey seemed to find comfort in claiming that his lyrics were about the larger world — in the case of Little Baby Nothing, feminism and the way women are perceived in media — a closer look usually reveals a personal stake. When I discussed the meaning of this song previously, I emphasized that the “Little baby nothing” in question is clearly Richey himself, writing in the first person and deconstructing his own image to align with a kind of mindless female groupie used for sex.

My mind is dead, everybody loves me Wants a slice of me Hopelessly passive and compatible Need to belong, oh the roads are scary Hold me in your arms I wanna be your only possession

Richey often refers to himself as a “slut” and a “prostitute” and uses self-referential porn star imagery in his lyrics (So Dead: “You need a fix I’m your prostitute”, Yes: “there’s no lust in this coma even for a fifty”), aligning the industries of pornography and music performance in very vivid ways most often pertaining to exploitation. Appropriately, singing pivotal stanzas on this track is none other than Traci Lords, arguably most famous (especially in the early 90s) for an underage porn scandal.

What’s more, in the lyrics booklet for Generation Terrorists, there is a quotation or excerpt included for each song. The following corresponds to Little Baby Nothing:

“The male chromosome is an incomplete female chromosome. In other words the male is a walking abortion; aborted at the gene stage. To be male is to be deficient, emotionally limited; maleness is a deficiency disease and males are emotional cripples.” -Valerie Solanos.

Ninety percent of what the Manics said and did in their early years was intended to be shocking and/or ironic. Of course they were trying to incite anger and riots, the questioning of institutions, and a teardown of normalcy. But the fact that Richey later used part of this radical statement as the title to one of his songs (“Of Walking Abortion”, natch) proves that he took it somewhat seriously, even if only in the most simple sense — that part of him resented his own maleness.

Life Becoming a Landslide

This is another song I’ve previously discussed, mostly in the arena of Nicky and Richey individualizing their distinctive voices into lines that can clearly be attributed to one or the other. In a song about nature vs nurture and the plastic confines of greater humanity cracking down on who or what someone is really supposed to be, we have:

Life becoming a landslide Ice freezing nature dead Life becoming a landslide I don’t wanna be a man

As far as writing style goes, Nicky was always fairly straightforward. Richey loves to convolute his message with proper nouns and alternating verb cases and a lack of a subject just to throw people off, but here’s Nicky, my boy, just saying, “Dude. Being a man sucks. I don’t like this.”

He could mean that being human in general sucks. But, since his attitude towards women leads me to believe he would not abbreviate humanity in this way, and given his and Richey’s track record with gender and Nicky’s well-documented gender presentation, I think it’s clear the lyric means that he doesn’t want to be male. Because he feels it doesn’t suit him, for whatever reason. And that nature failed by making him a man instead of a woman.

Yes

‘Yes’ is an incredible song. Its major-chord melody juxtaposed against Richey’s raw portrait of degradation is truly a thing to behold. The theme? Being used, prostitution both literal and metaphorical (“For sale? dumb cunt’s same dumb questions”), exploitation in the name of capitalism (“In these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything”), and reaching the lowest possible point of existence (“Purgatory’s circle, drowning here, someone will always say yes”). But the chorus — the chorus boasts one of the rawest images of sexual violence the band has ever used:

He’s a boy, you want a girl so tear off his cock Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want

Wow. Okay. Where to begin? The implication here is that gender, along with everything else, is mutable if you have enough money and power to abuse people. However, it appears the change would be made not to entertain others, but to appeal to a specific person, sexually (“fuck him”). The “you” in question is clearly attracted to women, so the narrator offering to mutilate himself to please them can be seen as a last-ditch act of desperation. (“It feels like this massive defeat,” said a friend. “You can make him a woman to pleasure someone, but what’s left to change after that?”)

Richey wrote most of the song; “Rita”, obviously, is the name used for an alternative female identity. But who would Rita be? Richey seems to be wondering. Would she still be me? And would the change even be worth the affections of whomever he’s speaking to? If the means are so drastic (and difficult to picture without experiencing secondhand pain), that answer would usually be “no”. But the song is called “Yes”. I would say yes to anything at this point, Richey is saying, even the most extreme sexual violence imaginable, if that’s what you wanted.

4st 7lb

This is an extreme example of Richey using world issues to examine his own nature. Although anorexic himself, Richey writes “4st 7lb” from the point of view of an obsessive young girl admiring thin models. There could be multiple reasons for this, not the least of which is that when a person fails to fit the “classic” case of an eating disorder, they are often ignored. So, Richey says, you need me to be a teenage girl? I can do that.

(Note that in 1994, when this song was written, any eating disorder demographic outside the “white girl who loves fashion too much” model did not exist by medical standards and was usually subject to ridicule.)

Karen says I’ve reached my target weight Kate and Emma and Kristin know it’s fake Problem is diet’s not a big enough word I wanna be so skinny that I rot from view

Embodying the anorexic female stereotype allows Richey to criticize both the world and himself; by creating a parody of a young girl with an eating disorder, he creates commentary on how ridiculous and counter-intuitive her thought process actually is. The song is brutal and often focuses on nudity and sexual imagery, as it has been suggested in studies that eating disorders occur in those who are trying to annihilate their own puberty. Though Richey was well into his 20s when he wrote this, he often expressed a loathing of aging and the entire concept of adulthood.

Stomach collapsed at five Lift up my skirt my sex is gone Naked and lovely and 5 stone 2 May I bud and never flower My vision’s getting blurred But I can see my ribs and I feel fine My hands are trembling stalks And I can feel my breasts are sinking

Ultimately, “4st 7lb” hits hard as both an experiment in identity and a vicious satire of the rich white girl eating disorder cliché. Although the lyrics do not express a desire to become female, they do indicate that Richey feels everything might be easier and fit more neatly into a box if he were a girl.

[Coming in Part 2: The Girl Who Wanted to be God, Tsunami, Born a Girl, and Pretention/Repulsion.]

#gender identity #gender fuckery #manic street preachers #manics #nicky wire #richey james #richey edwards #lyrics #yes #little baby nothing #generation terroris #the holy bible #life becoming a landslide #4st 7lb #eating disorders #gender

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horde-princess · 4 years

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I honestly can see a very korrasami-esque ending for Catra and Adora. It’s totally obvious by now that Noelle meant for them to be romantic and that she would like to end with them on a romantic route. Unfortunately, I don’t know if DW will be onboard for something very “in your face”. So I can totally see them doing a korrasami ending but making it a bit more obvious that it’s romantic.

i know ive always said “they will definitely absolutely kiss no doubt in mind” but now that we’re at the end i think i should actually take the time to discuss this more… i’m what you might a call a realistic optimist because i choose to have faith but i’m not ignorant to the realities of the situation you know? so buckle up this is going to be a long and probably unpleasant ride lmao

to be real, going into the last season I’m trying to not let myself have too many expectations with catradora. I do 100% fully expect that their relationship will be shown to be explicitly romantic by the end, but unfortunately, yes, its possible that they may not kiss. i’m at peace with that and i hope this post helps you guys see my thinking and come to terms with it too

obviously i dont understand all the underlying mechanisms of producing a tv show. i do know that dreamworks has hardly been a progressive studio in terms of lgbt representation. there are a lot of factors that would go into a decision about whether to allow a lesbian kiss in one of their projects, not least the fact that She-Ra is a reboot. having said all that, i’m still optimistic and there IS evidence in favor of a kiss that i think is worth talking about!

thinking about where to start with this discussion on Dreamworks vs. lgbt representation, Voltron came to mind. i’ve never seen the show but a quick google search brought me to this Geekdad article from an interviewer who did an investigation into Voltron’s lgbt rep failure and Dreamworks’ role in that. he argues that a lot of the blame belongs with the showrunners, because Dreamworks does at least provide resources and diversity consultants to help showrunners make respectful lgbt content, but the Voltron crew didn’t make use of them. the issue was not that Dreamworks actively blocked lgbt rep but rather that the studio did not work to ensure quality representation from the showrunners. which is a huge difference.

i dug a little deeper and found a transcript of an interview with the showrunners where they talk about the red tape they encountered, and what they say seems to implicate Voltron’s intellectual property holder as opposed to the Dreamworks studio itself. it sounds like Dreamworks’ hands were tied because the showrunners did not hold all the legal rights to the story.

of course we know IP is also an issue with She-Ra. however, correct me if i’m wrong, but I believe Mattel (the Masters of the Universe toy line) sold its property rights to NBCUniversal (Dreamworks’ parent company) a couple of years ago. this doesn’t mean all ties are cut with the original IP holder, but i think its safe to assume that She-Ra has some more wiggle room than Voltron did when it comes to the showrunners’ vision/creativity. especially because Mattel has been known to be pro-lgbt.

an interesting quote from Joaquim Dos Santos (voltron producer) was that after season 7, “She-Ra was in development within the studio and I think the studio was just sort of beginning to open its eyes to the possibilities of there being [lgbt] representation in their shows and there not being a huge public backlash for it.”

Also, in a different interview they said “to Dreamworks’ credit, I think the tide started changing internally” regarding the studio’s outlook on lgbt rep around the time that seasons 7/8 were in production.

so in addition to potential IP issues, Dreamworks is obviously concerned about their reputation and losing money. however we can gather from these quotations that (due to recent cultural shifts in the U.S.) Dreamworks has felt comfortable making efforts in the last few years to distribute more/better lgbt rep.

you also have to consider that Dreamworks KNEW what they were getting into with hiring Noelle. it’s hard to know whether lgbt representation was the vision for the show from the beginning or whether Noelle brought it with her (tho it seems like the latter). but either way, the studio must have been actively seeking to improve their lgbt representation because i’m sure she made her vision clear from the very beginning.

There’s a great article where Noelle talks about the fight to include lgbt rep in She-Ra:

“When you’re aiming to tell a story like that, you have to get everyone who’s working on the show, whether on the crew, or at the executive level, to believe in that world as well. It’s all part of trying to create the type of world in real life that you’re creating in the show. While I hope it comes across in a natural way in the show, it’s something you have to constantly fight for. You can’t take it for granted. I never take it for granted. It’s a really important thing to fight for, and a lot of it is just, “Trust me, this is gonna work. Believe in me. I can pull this off.” I am really fortunate to work with executives who do believe in me and who have allowed me to do a lot with this show. I’m very fortunate for that.”

So that is awesome to hear!! It wasn’t a tug-of-war situation with Noelle having to make concessions for execs who didn’t believe in her vision. She says the studio was supportive. But I think only time will tell us what the definition of “a lot” is.

Okay so, whew, that was a lot of information. i’ll be amazed if anyone actually reads this far lmaoo 😂 anyway i wanna move away from logistical stuff and talk about some other things Noelle has said about her show.

geekdad did another great interview with Noelle (and a Dreamworks PR representative!! it’s a good read) where he asked “if you wanted to depict a same gender relationship with foreground characters, do you think we’re at that stage yet in children’s animation where you could? Or do you think we still have a ways to go?”

Noelle replies “I think that remains to be seen, and I think… that’s something that–you should watch the show. You should see the storylines that we pursue in the future.”

When asked about catradora’s romantic undertones, “just keep watching” is something Noelle has said repeatedly in many different interviews. She wouldn’t say that if there wasn’t going to be a payoff at the end. It’s obvious she’s not at liberty to discuss the ending of the show, you can tell she’s always extremely careful with her wording when she’s faced with questions like this. But she consistently expresses, as a lesbian herself, that she has created a show she expects her own community will be excited about. Whatever actually happens, Noelle doesn’t believe that She-Ra will let us down 😌

Shes also mentioned that she’s grateful for shows like Steven Universe and Adventure Time that were trailblazers before She-Ra, because every successive show has the opportunity to be a little bit more progressive than the shows that came before it. We all have to continually strive to push the envelope and demand more inclusivity. If it turns out that that’s all She-Ra is–a small step towards quality representation–then yes of course it will feel like a massive waste (just because this story Noelle created is so incredible), but we’ll have to remember that the show is still playing a very important role in the history of children’s media. Even without a kiss, She-Ra has made incredible strides in lgbt rep. what i would hate to see is people complaining (god forbid calling it “queer baiting”) if there isn’t a kiss. Noelle and the crew have worked on this show tirelessly and passionately and we can’t yell at them for something they had no control over. the only people we should hold accountable are Dreamworks/Mattel. so i agree with you there anon.

Personally, at this point, I’m just here for the ride because i trust Noelle Stevenson with my life and She-Ra is the best show i’ve EVER seen. and i’m gonna keep talking about catradora kissing because

#she ra #asks/replies #this actually turned into a whole ass research article i'm insane for writing this lakjdlfs #no one can EVER doubt how seriously i take catradora

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danilanidingdong · 3 years

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My partner was targeted by a predator - a small NYC director.

Please be aware that the following writing discusses kink, LGBTQ+ issues, assault, misgendering, and other topics that are generally not feel good issues. It is in regards to how my partner was treated. She’s read this and given their stamp of approval on posting this. Not because we want folks to feel bad, but because we legitimately want to warn people about a predator.

I’d like to start this off with some personal information. Typically in a situation like this, individual details aren’t necessary, but in this case, I believe it’s important to form a foundation.

My partner and I live quite happily and openly under the queer umbrella. We also function very vocally in kink circles. We don’t believe in kink shaming. We have no qualms with strange kinks. As long as everyone involved consents, we have zero issues.

It’s the consent thing that was recently violated when my partner was assaulted by a so-called director for a short film.

My partner was using a casting website with a very professional reputation (Netflix and Stars have used this site), and she was contacted by a small production company in response to seeing her resume.

The short of it was that this director was looking for LGBTQ+ folks for his social commentary werewolf short films. My partner was so excited, showing me everything that this director sent her. What I was shown was short, but seemed fine. It appeared to be a small budget production company, and the script was nothing to write home about, but honestly it didn’t seem like a bad start. And it paid! The casting website even gave him a neat little verified check to assure performers that they’d been vetted by the site.

The more she talked to the director, the more excited she got. Finally! Someone that wanted to make awesome werewolf content that focused on queer communities! She was excited to show the director what she already had from her costume closet for werewolf makeup and fangs, and he seemed excited to work with her. He suggested possibly using contact lenses, along with some minimal makeup and light use of prosthetics.

When she arrived at the shoot, though. She was met with only the director. No team. In his parent’s empty apartment. Instead of the fake nails that he had explained to her in the interview, he informed her that they would be going to a salon and getting acrylic nails put on. This isn’t necessarily a problem, but anyone who’s had acrylic nails applied knows how difficult (read: impossible) they are to get off quickly. Fake stick-on nails (which he said would be used) are cheaper, and in an emergency, can pop off rather quickly. Acrylic nails are typically an investment of both time and money. Seriously, if you’ve never had them, ask someone who has. Those suckers don’t budge.

But the director didn’t make a big deal out of it. My partner wasn’t very experienced in the film industry, so she took his word for granted.

My partner then spent two hours at a nail salon near the apartment, and while everyone around her was getting French tips, she couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed by the six inch claws that the nail technician was crafting. When some of the other salon customers asked, she proudly informed them “It’s for a werewolf movie!” - in an attempt to save herself from some embarrassment. But the director cut her off, and said “No, don’t tell them that.”

Once the nails were on, she realized that she couldn’t use her hands for anything. Her dexterity was destroyed with these huge, thick claws, and she relied entirely on the director for any fine motor skills.

Still, nothing seemed off. She would film this short scene and be done. When they returned to the apartment, he told her to put contacts in. She expressed discomfort. It was already very difficult for her to function with the nails, would it be possible to try filming without the contacts?

No. She had to wear contacts.

They had this conversation in his bathroom, where he blocked her with his body from leaving the bathroom until she agreed to wear the contacts.

Because of her nails, the director had to put the lenses in for her, and once they were in, she noticed something else that was a little off.

She could not see with the contacts in.

She now relied entirely on this director for even basic functions, but even then he did not provide her with what she needed. She was not given water at any time during the entire 8 hour filming.

He started asking extremely uncomfortable questions as soon as she was physically unable to leave.

He noted that her resume indicated “nonbinary” as her gender, so he asked plainly, “So that means you have both right? Both sets?”

She was taken aback, and he was rather crestfallen when she explained what nonbinary meant, and she steered the incredibly inappropriate conversation away from her genitalia.

Which he kept bringing up. Repeatedly.

He talked frequently about the character that she was playing, and made her very aware that after her werewolf transformation, her character had “both sets of genitals”. Information that would be important for an actor, sure, but the way he brought it up and discussed it was entirely sexual.

He told her “Let’s just do some improv, no script.”

When he started asking her to touch him with her nails, she realized that she was filming a fetish video.

That was when she shifted into survival mode. He continued trying to make sexual conversation while they filmed, but she would shut down his advances in any attempt to get out of the vision blocking contacts quicker. She felt trapped, unable to leave due to her inability to see or hold anything.

The director mentioned, while filming, that the concept of my partner growing a penis during her werewolf transformation was “getting him hard”, and he kept insinuating that her actions were causing him sexual arousal. She mentioned having a partner as a defense strategy, and he asked if she (in other words: me) would be interested in bringing that partner around in order to shoot a lesbian scene.

In addition to this, he openly spoke of his work with other performers, and it became clear that he was using this casting site to find LGBTQ+ performers in order to find very specific people for his fetish work. It was only then that it became clear that he was looking for trans folks for his performances, in order to act out his fetish. He kept the information quiet during the talent scouting phase, but specifically sought out individuals under the LGBTQ+ umbrella for sexual reasons only, not actual inclusivity. It was only driven home by the near constant misgendering of his previous performers that he frequently spoke about. He told my partner he was trying to create inclusive media. He spoke at length regarding his obsession and sexual fetish for women with penises. The wording he used was dated at best, and offensive at worst.

There was so much, little pieces that my partner remembers from that day as she recovers, things like how he mentioned stopping people on the street to take pictures of their nails, how he worked with a lot of adult entertainers (and misgendered them frequently), and worryingly, minors. Things that on their own wouldn’t raise eyebrows, but when put together becomes a rather disturbing depiction of a predator.

Had she not been on her toes and aware of the situation, my partner doesn’t doubt that this director would have tried to push her boundaries further. He asked her to sensually touch her chest with her nails, and focused on the importance of the ASMR - or the sound the nails made. She skirted the sexuality as best as she could, keeping things professional until she could leave - not that he had earned professionalism after lying to her, but she was simply trying to get him to remove the nails and contacts as quickly as possible.

Afterwards, he requested an exit interview. Desperate to leave, she wondered if she could film it at home and send it to him. He refused, and added that he would only clip the end of her nails so she could leave if she did this exit interview. When he deemed the interview over, he forced her to behave in a bizarre perky way before he would clip each nail, even when he was told that the force of the nail clipping was painful. What was left behind were jagged, thick acrylic stubs that were still difficult to use, but not as difficult as the full nails.

Now, let it be said, neither of us have any issues with fetish videos. So long as everyone involved consents. However, my partner was utterly unable to consent. She was lied to about the project itself, and everything involved with it. This wasn’t a production team, it was a solitary director with a camera who wanted to film sexual gratification videos.

And the pay?

Well, the nail technician who applied the nails got a total of $145, including tip.

My partner received $100, and as she left he put in an additional $20 for her to “get the nails removed at a salon”.

Not only was my partner lied to, but she was then physically kept under this director’s control with the nails and contacts that he made her wear. She was unable to leave, and continuously harassed and asked wildly inappropriate questions by someone who was claiming to be an ally, when in reality, he was a predator. He seeks out LGBTQ+ performers in order to film them for his own sexual exploits under the guise of creating inclusive characters and stories.

The lies are where consent is no longer possible. Because of this, my partner filed a complaint and he was removed from the casting website. That being said, we’re still concerned that he won’t stop at that, and will only move to other spaces. He already admitted to using OnlyFans to find performers, and his open conversation about hiring minors has left it hard to sleep at night. Again, absolutely nothing is wrong with minors in film, but judging by the way that this man refused to be open about the nature of his work, it’s a parallel that I’m uncomfortable just leaving without an attempt to stop it.

Part of the healing process has been going public with this experience. I’m never one to speak on behalf of someone, but writing clearly about your own trauma can be harrowing, which is why I offered to write this on behalf of my partner.

If this production company continues to hire performers, they need to be transparent with their intentions. Not another human being should feel so manipulated and helpless after being assured that they would be doing something positive for the queer community.

Please share this. Please spread this. Please do not let another individual suffer the way that my partner unfortunately has. The production company is called Exiram Productions. They’re easy enough to find on youtube, but I cannot stress enough that what is available there is not at all any indication of what was actually filmed the day my partner experienced this harassment. His secondary company that he works under is called Were-Creature Videos. That particular production company is what my partner filmed for, but she was originally approached by Exiram Productions, and was given absolutely no indication about the sexual nature of filming.

If you’re in the NYC area, please be careful of this person who is seeking out the queer community in order to fetishize them without their consent.

Happy Pride.

Eat a brick, Alexis.

#cw: predator #cw: assault

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28allthelove28 · 7 years

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Pink Dolphin - Fionn Whitehead Fan Fiction (13500 words)

Everything is red. The sun looks bigger than it normally does, and it always sets the sky on fire. Dark shadows swim into unknown corners and the ocean is always pink, but Fionn can’t go home. Not until the plan falls into place. Fionn is not leaving this surreal pink film set until he’s honest with Alana, the mysterious artist girl with pale skin and hair like a flame. And Harry is there to make sure neither of his friends waste any more time pretending they aren’t in love.

13000+ words of pining, pet names, conceptual art and true friendship. Meet Me In The Hallway, a big plot twist, some long smut scenes*, and a love of nature. Harry is married to Louis, he’s acting with Fionn in an art film that his best friend Alana wrote and throughout the nervous giggles, there is a happy ending for everyone.

I put a stupid amount of time and effort into writing this so I no longer have any idea if it’s wonderful or terrible, and I’m pretty embarrassed about it, but please, please do read (It definitely gets sooo much better as it goes, I think Chapter 2 is my favourite) This will hopefully be on Archive of our Own soon!

Also, a WARNING to any of my friends reading this, parts of this are pretty explicit, sorry!!! Xx

PINK DOLPHIN

“She’s ridiculous!”

The words hiss from Fionns mouth before he realises he’s let them out. His eyes squint, following the droplets of water travelling down Alana’s body, as if her white skin is too bright for him. Her arms hang around Polly’s waist, their fingers linked loosely. They look like a renaissance mother and child.

“She doesn’t like LA, you know?” A deep voice speaks and startles Fionn. He blinks himself back into consciousness and looks down to the left of him. Harry peers up at him with a smug smile, he looks more playful than normal. He knows.

“She doesn’t really like LA.” Harry repeats, following Fionn’s line of vision to the girl sitting across from them. The two boys are lying together lazily by the side of the outdoor pool, warm evening air sitting heavily above them, and the orange sun falling into the sea. Harry’s been anticipating this conversation for a while. A long while.

“No?” Fionn leans back. The weird pink cocktails reveal the interest in his face a lot more than he may allow if he were slightly more sober. Harry sits up, wrapping a sheer floral blouse round the butterfly tattooed on his chest. He’s prepared for this, and the time is now.

“Alana’s been here for months, Fionn, even before starting this weird film project with us. Yeah, she got that studio deal here, and she made good friends through work …she’s been preparing for this film a lot, she’s been writing and drawing as usual, but she can do all of that stuff at home just as easily. The weather is much nicer here, for sure. She likes the landscape and the wildlife but nobody, nobody loves Newcastle as much as Alana.”

Fionn accepts that this speech is going somewhere.

“Her mum’s there, up north. Her closest friends are there. And it’s not just that, Fi, if she’s not been here then she’s been in London. And the exact same goes for there too. She likes it of course, she’s always got plenty to do, but it’s just not her home.” Harry says. “And this has been going on for over a year.”

Harry looks at his friend and realises he still needs to be more obvious. “Alana is only in LA or London when you are in LA or London.”

Fionn pushes air from his nose in an almost violent sigh. He knew something was coming. Something was going to happen on this film set. Something beyond his control. Something more real than he could ignore. Not that he was even sure he wanted to ignore it anymore.

He lays further back on the strange pink sun lounger he’s melted himself onto, and he cradles his head theatrically. He absolutely knew it.

There was something about the light in Alana’s eyes which shone brighter when looking into his. There was something about the way sun fell on her red hair which made it glow golden, like leaves in autumn, like a colour Fionn had never seen before, and can now only associate with her. There was something about the way her presence in a room made itself known to Fionn before he even reached the doorway. There was a tenderness in Alana’s voice that sounded more intimate when she spoke to him. As if every word were plucked from a letter she’d written that no one else were allowed to read, and that, honestly, Fionn didn’t want anyone else to read.

Of course he knew it.

He was just terrified to admit it.

Harry’s hand gently holds Fionn’s knee. He can feel Harry’s silver rings cold against his skin. “I know her Fionn. She’s my best friend, and has been for years.” He gives Fionn’s knee a little squeeze. “I know how she loves.”

Harry slides his thumb over Fionn’s skin once more then takes his hand away. “Alana’s more vulnerable and shy than you’d think, but when she’s certain on something, she’s certain.” He continues. “She’s busy, her mind never stops, not for a second. She’s so impatient. But here she is, a year after meeting you… still there. Right fucking, there!” Harry nods his head to the other side of the pool for more affect, his brown hair swishing into his eyes, and Fionn allows himself to see her.

His green eyes lift to gaze through the glasses pushed up on his nose. He sees her bright floral dress hanging loose, hair clipped into a curl behind her ear, and a camera in her hands. Alana films her friends watching the peacock butterflies fly around lilac buddleia flowers with a smile on her face. Always a smile on her face.

“I don’t want her waiting forever Fionn, and I don’t think you do either.”

Fionn meets Harry’s eyes and smiles. Bless him. Bless him for doing this. He doesn’t deserve someone like Harry, or someone like Alana. “She’s so nice to everyone, Harry. I love the way that her eyebrows curve into the top of her nose. I love how she always asks questions, and how she’s always excited by everything… as if it’s all new. I’m just… fuck. I’m just a bit scared.” Fionn confesses. “Quite a lot scared.”

“That’s ok, Fionn. So is she. She’s terrified! And it is scary.” Harry says this calmly with all the wisdom of an old woman, but there is a glint of excitement in his eye. He loves drama. But Harry knows exactly what he��s talking about. “You don’t think I was scared when I told Louis how I felt about him when I was just 16? But look now, almost 8 years later, we’re married and he basically re-proposes to me again every month.”

The two of them laugh and Fionn realises he might be being over dramatic. Fionn is far from unlovable, he isn’t hopeless, and he isn’t even sure why or when he started to think he might have been. He isn’t too busy. Maybe he isn’t even too shy. He’s actually completely fine, and he does deserve this. He does want this. A lot.

Alana isn’t some ethereal princess or the most beautiful person in the world. She’s quite odd. Her face is both angular and soft at the same time. Pale but often with blushing cheeks. Thick eyebrows and thin hair. A bit funny looking if you really think about it, but just lovely. Pretty in the way which art is pretty. But she’s just another human. An incredibly lovely one, yes, but another human nonetheless, and Fionn is going to be honest with her, in whichever way he has to be.

“Thank you, Harry. Thank you so much for everything. You’re an absolute sweetheart and I’m very grateful for you.” Fionn grins and squeezes Harry’s chin, pressing into his dimples.

“Anytime, Finley, you handsome and wonderful man!” He grins back. “Count yourself lucky that I’m letting you both go, but I’ll be keeping watch.” He warns. “You two will be wonderful. Please just go for it, love.”

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

The film set they’re all working on is odd, of course it is though. The whole project is bizarre, but in the most excellent way. The buzz transcends the cast and crew, it seems that everyone is excited about this movie. Alana and her friend Polly had the idea. They shared a studio together in Newcastle and Alana had performed in several of Polly’s videos before. They describe this project as a film which isn’t so much a film, but more so a film about the idea of a film. And this idea for the film is discussed and questioned by the cast as it morphs and grows, but all in a poetic and romantic way. The owner of the idea narrates the film and explains which aspects are clear and which are undecided. The focus is on the atmosphere and the visuals more than the structure. A feeling more than a story.

Everyone involved received a pink envelope with a hand written letter inside, inviting them to collaborate in whichever way they wanted. The film is essentially an art piece and the actors are essentially performers. The package also included postcards of paintings which inspired the set, mainly David Hockney’s brightly coloured swimming pools, as well as notes and sketches from Alana and Polly themselves, referencing the ideas which fuelled their project, and offering some quotes from the narration.

“Maybe sharing your thoughts is more revealing than sharing the work which the thoughts made. ….One loose, unresolved, foetal, dreamlike thought can inspire concrete ideas, or maybe just an idea can be enough in itself.”

“Art allows you to somehow make real the thoughts which would otherwise only exist as imagination.”

Initially Fionn found it a little hard to follow. Very arty. Maybe even a bit ‘Inception’. But there was something new about it, something honest and very compelling. Harry was all over it of course, and Fionn always likes a challenge. He’d started off in the theatre, doing plays about social media and queer rights. He did a TV show about a troubled boy with telekinetic abilities and then a film about a young war soldier trying to get home. That’s how he’d met Harry, through whom he’d then met Alana.

After months of them purposefully and in-purposefully bumping into each other in London and ultimately becoming somewhat close friends, neither Fionn nor Alana fully entered or fully left the other’s lives.

They both intend to fix that now.

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

There is a definite colour scheme to the film set. Very warm and soft, but also quite sinister. All the furniture is clothed in fluffy fabrics of a deep orange, there is hot pink neon tube lighting drawing a continuous line over every corner, it’s always dark inside and most of the walls are painted in a glossy black or rich red. The sun looks bigger than it normally does and it always sets the sky on fire, black and red butterflies dance around the lush shrubs and the yellow flowers which are planted everywhere. The outdoor pool is made of shimmery bright pink tiles and seems to be the epicentre, when filming or not.

Fionn stretches his arms out and floats on his back, the water laps against his sides and briefly puddles in the dip of his chest, then runs down his body and back into the pool. He drops his head back so his dark hair soaks neatly away from his face and flicks out behind his ears.

“Harry said you don’t like LA?” Fionn questions Alana and playfully splashes a tiny bit of water over her lap. She is perched on the edge of the pool steps, her legs reaching into soft ripples as she twists them in the water, toes painted with a warm peach colour.

“I do.” She smiles, tucking her legs back up and rolling the hem of her striped trousers back down. “Just not as much as home.”

Fionn leaves the water to re-dress into a checked shirt and jeans. He sits by her side and looks at her. “Why have you spent so much time here then? Apart from the film, I mean…”

Alana thoughtfully scans over the water, the sunset is sinking into it and making everything a deeper pink. “The people.” She answers, her eyes smiling cheekily into his.

Surely that wasn’t too obvious? She wonders.

Fionn’s face creases into a smirk and Alana giggles. Good. ‘Just enough’ she thinks.

“I feel like wherever you are, if you have good friends around you, then you’ll be at your happiest.” Alana declares, and Fionn has to agree with her.

“Am I your good friend?” He asks, nudging her in the elbow. He’s feeling cheeky too, and confident.

“Of course, Fionn!” She answers.

No hesitation. Excellent.

“Great.” This is going well, he thinks. And he hears her voice again.

“You’re great. …You’re very cute. Very lovely.” Her cheeks sting a little but she’s seeing this through.

They both laugh and Fionn pretends to shh her. “Oh stop!” He dramatizes. “I think you’re…. I think you’re really wonderful, Alana. Honestly.”

Oh my gosh, he sounds sincere. Keep it together Alana, come on.

“Gee, thanks Fionn!!” She jokes and they laugh more than is necessary, for no particular reason, but they feel comfortable. It’s a nice, light, hopeful feeling. Finally! Something is beginning to happen between them that feels more like ‘something’. They move to lie back on a stretch of grass and watch the clouds darken to red. Alana announces coyly “I think you’re as nice as that sunset.” She’s joking. …maybe half joking.

Fionn barks a loud laugh which sort of pulses his body forward to hang over his knees, he almost surprises himself, it really wasn’t that funny. He looks up to see Alana pulling a mock-disgruntled expression. “Excuse me, Finley, I was being deadly serious, man!”

He chuckles, “I know, that’s why I’m laughing.”

They silently thank God that not many people are nearby, because they’re probably being outrageous. But that’s alright. “Oh, charming!” Her soft Geordie accent thickens slightly.

Fionn can’t help but blush at how endearing she is. “That would have sounded stupid coming from anyone else, but because it’s you, it was very sweet and kind.” He tells her. “Thank you, Alana.”

She can’t believe they’re just sitting there talking to each other. It’s the simplest thing in the world but her body tickles all over. “Good.” She teases him, springing up and jokingly running away. “…Because it’s the last compliment you’re getting, mate!”

She leaves him watching her scamper off, a stupid big grin on both their faces.

Maybe it starts here.

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

Their time spent together is fleeting, Fionn and Alana. But still often. They are both essentially at work. And they both work hard, everybody does. But luckily, because of the personal and creative nature of the project, it was encouraged from the outset that the actors spend all their time together and inhabit the film set as their home, making the whole video more collaborative. The cast is essentially friends of friends, so really, it’s just very social and enjoyable.

Alana and Polly and the rest of the team wanted the character interactions to be real and organic, hence their minimal script, and their emphasis on the actors trusting their instinct and taking more ownership. All the actors and crew started off watching films together which influenced Alana and Polly’s ideas, so they could get more of a collective understanding of the reference points, and of the style they were aiming for. There was a good week spent living on set discussing The Neon Demon, Submarine, High Rise, The Tree of Life, Amelie, and basically Wes Anderson and Stan Brakhage’s filmographies.

The camera crew are filming almost constantly, to capture the candid human interactions. Most of the film will be made in post-production, not necessarily with fancy editing, just piecing the right clips together once all the footage is there, instead of story boarding it all beforehand. The narration and spoken word will be the main thing, with only a few specific scenes being pre-planned. The film basically makes itself as it exists as a living organism.

The core of the whole piece is a poem Alana wrote. The entire film was imagined from it.

“I cannot make real the thoughts which I imagine, because an imagined thought is not clear.

The thought came to me like a dream.

It was pink.

I saw us by the pool,

Sunken in a foreign sunset,

Foggy and thick.

Warm colours.

Words seeping from our tongues like water and they all reflected in our eyes.

I think of you and see starlings murmorating over the sea,

And swallows flying home.

It is important to share a thought before it expires.”

This one poem is the only concrete scene in the film, everything else is woozy and unclear - like a thought or a dream. The scene is two people by the pool at sunset, talking. Yet there is no script for it. Polly wanted the actors to be free to feel the experience fully and to say what came to them naturally, and whatever they do, she’ll use. The actors for this scene are Fionn and Alana, playing Toby and Isla, and they film it tomorrow.

Them and the whole cast were prepped as much as they could be, and treated with nothing but kindness and inclusiveness by Polly and the team, and they were mostly guided to just enjoy themselves and go with it. As completely unusual and open ended as the brief is, Fionn and everyone else thought it sounded amazing. He knew it would be a pleasure to work with Harry again, and admittedly, Alana’s allure was as consuming as the atmosphere of the whole film.

*------------------

It’s this allure which Fionn is trying his best to ignore as he makes steps back to his room, intent on rehearsing some more ideas for Toby, but then he sees her.

Fionn sees Alana from across the landing by the lift.

He sees her in a way he doesn’t feel he should see her.

He’s stood on the dark red carpet near the corner of the hotel corridor. A window in front of him. Night begins to fill the sky, but a warm orange glow burns from Alana’s room.

Fionn sees her and he can’t move. He should, but he can’t.

He must walk away now. What is he doing?

He sees her white skin, all of it. It shines against the dark red silk of the bed sheets.

It’s erotic. The lighting. The whole film set. Everything. Why do the lights have to be so warm? Why is the colour of everything so sexy? Why do shadows seep into every corner of wherever Alana is not? Why is Fionn thinking of the colour red when his heart begins to beat like bubbling acid, and his breath bleeds fast out of the cracks in his lips, and his chest rises and falls like waves? And he can’t move. He cannot move.

It’s like she’s a siren and he’s drowning in the Red Sea but her song keeps pulling him back, spluttering.

He shouldn’t look. What the fuck is he doing? It’s wrong. It’s unprofessional. It’s disrespectful. This is his friend. His friend’s friend. This is essentially his boss. It’s wrong. But she’s there, and it’s hot. It’s so hot in here. Fionn can’t think clearly.

Where is everyone else? Why when night falls, does everyone disappear, and why is it always just him and Alana left?

Why is it so hot?

What the hell is happening? How is he seeing this?

This!?

Walk away right now Fionn, stop it. Stop watching her.

But she’s still doing it. And he can’t move.

She’s there. Her bed is right next to the window. Why? It doesn’t matter. Maybe to feel the breeze rush in through the window in the hot mornings. Good. That makes sense. The morning. Her. In the morning. Waking up beside her. Skin. Warm, beneath the covers. Hot. Pale skin beneath pink silk covers.

Her skin.

All of it.

Stop it. Walk away.

It throbs. He feels it. Tight, hot, stiff. There, pressing against him. Hard.

She’s doing it by the window. Of course she is, her bed’s there. Fuck.

Walk away Fionn.

No. God no, oh God. Fuck.

Fucking hell.

He rushes nearer the window that he’s watching her from, he stands behind the curtain. Lays his hand over himself.

He breathes out.

She breathes out. She presses the side of her face into the hot pink cushion.

For God’s sake, what’s wrong with this place? Why is everything dark and pink? What the fuck do they expect to happen?

Don’t touch anymore. Just keep your hand there Fionn, breathe out. Walk away, this is wrong.

Oh, fuck no. God. Look at her! Look at her, fuck.

She’s… She’s actually… Oh my God he can’t believe this.

Her other hand runs up, from her thigh, across her abdomen. He feels it.

Fionn feels her hand across his own abdomen, just below the belly button. He can practically feel his hand on her, sweeping over her skin. Fingertips pressing into her flesh. God. No.

Fionn presses his own hand against his abdomen. He presses his other hand down on himself harder. He sighs out.

Her hand travels up over her stomach, to her breast.

Her face rolls upwards and she presses her head down into the pink pillows, her eyes closed tight.

No. God, no Fionn. Leave now. Fuck.

He sighs out loud and pushes himself away from the window, leaving the dark purple curtain gushing in his wake.

Fionn storms along the corridor. Furious. Strides up to his door and, God. No. Absolutely not.

Not a chance.

“Louis!!”

“Lou! Ahh ah …oh fuckkk”

No.

Please, no.

“Harry! Harry ohhhh, yeah”

“God! Ah ahh fuck, Harryyy”

Fucking hell no.

“Yes, God! Ahh ah yesss”

Do not fuck in the room next to me right now, Harry. For the love of God, no!

“Louis!! Louis! Ahh”

“Fuck, yess!”

No. Please. Not now.

Fionn hurls his own door open, tripping over his own feet, breathing heavily and shutting it firmly behind him.

For God’s sake.

What the hell?

He leans against his door, desperately, then he quickly pulls his shirt up over his head, his glasses come off with them and fly onto the floor. Fionn huffs loudly, flustered and cheeks burning. Furious. He storms towards the bathroom, kicking off his shoes on the way and pulling off his burgundy socks. Fucking burgundy, for God’s sake!

“Ah! Louis, fuck!”

“Fuck fuck fuck Harry, God!! Yes!”

Fionn yanks the bathroom light cord down and switches the shower on. While the water heats up he violently undoes his belt and pushes down his pants and trousers with almost laughable urgency.

This is fucking ridiculous.

He grips himself and leans back into the sink edge, his head falling back.

He’s already wet.

He spreads out pre-cum with a shaking thumb and runs his hand down himself smoothly.

He tugs back up, and sighs.

Fionn steps into the shower, warm water falling on him, he bows his head and pumps himself hard. He puffs out frustrated sighs and moans, almost whimpers.

Veins sting in Fionn’s arm and neck, his eyes screw shut, and the water collecting in his fringe gushes down onto his cock.

Fionn steady’s himself with one hand fanned out against the shower wall and lifts his head back to breathe out, as if exhaling cigarette smoke.

His arm moving fast and steady, he works himself beneath the water.

One leg is bent slightly, and the water keeps washing over Fionn’s skin. Droplets fly over his thighs with the force that his hand flies up and down.

Low groans escape from Harry’s mouth, muffled through the wall, but still loud.

“Harry, God. YES!” Louis’ voice is audible even over the rush of the shower. “So good, baby, ah!”

Fuck. God.

“Ah! Ah!” Fionn pants, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth. “God!”

“Louis!!! Ahh! Fuckkk”

God, no.

“Fuck.” Fuck, Harry, why now?

Why is everyone in this hotel fucking at the same time!??

Why are the walls so thin?

Fionn sees her again, seeping into his vision, Alana with legs stretched out across the bed cover, her hand moving fast. Red light swimming around her.

Fuck, God.

Her fingers pressed together, and rotating fast, between her legs. Her lips apart.

Oh God.

He could see Alana’s breath moving inside her body. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuckkk

Harry moans loudly in the next room.

Alana’s legs drop against the red silk, a breath heaving out of her throat, she trusts up into the air.

“Ah!”

Louis pounds hard into Harry and quivers inside him. One hand clutches Harry’s waist and pulls him further back onto his own dick. Louis’ other hand squeezes hot cum out of Harry’s dick. Louis presses his forehead against Harry’s shoulder and blows a hot breath onto his skin. Harry moans, hanging his head, kneeling over the bed.

Fionn thrusts forward desperately into his fist. Sighing loud. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows down his stunted breath. He pictures Alana, touching herself. He remembers Alana touching herself. She’s in this building right now, stretched out naked on a red satin bed. Fionn squeezes the end of his dick and shoots thick bouts of cum against the shower wall.

Some streams of cum run down over his thumb. He’s open mouthed and panting heavily. Fionn holds his hands into the stream of water and shuts his eyes. “Fuck.”

He leans his back heavily against the wet pink tiles, Fionn slicks all his hair back smoothly against his head, and breathes out an exhausted sigh. His cheeks are burning pink beneath his freckles, water trickles down his heaving chest. Fionn begins to rub shower gel into his hot skin, shaking his head and breathing out what could be deciphered as a small, pitiful laugh. “What the fuck, am I doing here?”

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

CHAPTER 2

Morning sun brushes over Fionn’s face and buries itself into the folds of his dark orange duvet cover. It’s early. Too early. Fionn grumbles something into his pillow about mornings and how wrong they are, before distorted memories from the night before absorb into his conscious.

Oh dear.

Everything about this place is weird. Nothing’s quite normal, there is a familiarity to everything, a softness, a niceness, but it’s all sort of clouded with something quite impure and unsettling. Appealing at first and then uncertain. Darker. That is the point of the film, he supposes, but still. He feels it.

Fionn decides to forget last night. Or at least try to. He’s here. He’s here to work, and then he can leave. Just keep your head down, get the job done, and stay focused. Don’t think of Alana. Don’t think of her waking up this morning, don’t think of her going to sleep last night. Don’t think of her saying your name. Don’t picture what you saw. Don’t think of Harry either. Don’t think of Harry and Louis. Don’t get sucked in by the allure of this weird, pink, watery environment, or Alana’s weird allure either. Just don’t speak to her.

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

Several hours later, or maybe several years, Fionn is watching Alana surface from the pool. Midway through the day he decided it would actually be very rude to stop speaking to her. Unprofessional, even. She steps back into her clothes as Fionn playfully throws a towel over her head and greets her with a cheery hello.

She won’t know a thing, Fionn tells himself, just be normal. Be nice.

“Hi Dolphin!” she smiles, wriggling her painted toes into the plush of the orange towel. She places herself right by his side and says “Sorry to keep making you swim.”

But he just questions “Dolphin?” with a confused smile.

Alana deadpans a very serious yes. “You’re part dolphin now aren’t ya?”

Oh God no. What’s happening?

This wasn’t meant to happen.

“Alana get out of here right now. Did you just call me Dolphin??”

Does Fionn drop his head back in laughter, look down in embarrassment, crease his eyes shut to try and contain any reaction? A mixture of all three? He isn’t too sure. He just knows what this means. She isn’t referencing this film. Not the significance of the water metaphor in this film. No. This means Alana really did watch all of his and Harry’s Dunkirk interviews. This means she knows what a dork he is. Oh no.

“It makes absolute sense Fionn.” She’s still there. She’s still talking to him. Oh Jesus. “You can swim. You’re intelligent, and friendly, and cute, and fun. You sort of had a pod of other swimmers, you used to work on a ferry, and you’re a total doll! Fionn… dolphin… Dolfionn, it fits. It’s brilliant!”

Fionn’s definitely laughing now. He mockingly rests his fist against his hip and adopts a silly old man voice. “I’m part dolphin now. Ohh, dolphin eyy!” He jokes. “Why do I say these things on camera? Honestly!”

Through many giggles and words of encouragement and praise from Alana about how much her and the whole world enjoyed every single interview, Fionn realises if he is going to be named Dolphin, surely Alana must meet the same fate. “You need a name” he informs her.

Fuck it. Fuck everything. This whole film is ridiculous, everything that’s going on here is absurd. Probably some sort of social experiment. Forget what you told yourself this morning, Fionn, you’re here. She’s here. Just do it. Life brought you to this surreal pink world for a reason. For her. Right now feels like a good a time as any to reintroduce The Plan… if he could call it that.

“How about deer?” He suggests, with a smug grin.

The pace with which Alana’s face turns to meet his, suggests that The Plan may actually work.

He’d better keep going then.

“Or sun? Or maybe sunny? …Or yellow?”

‘I can’t bear this. He’s adorable.’ Alana thinks she’s not breathing. ‘He’s ridiculous!’ Her lips feel dry from smiling, like they’re sticking to her teeth. Her stomach feels heavily pregnant with butterflies and nerves and certainty.

“Deer like in Richmond Park?” She whispers, in awe.

“Yes. Deer like in Richmond Park.”

He remembers.

Fionn looks her straight back in the eye and smiles softly. Alana’s breath faults.

He remembers last June after the BBQ at Harry’s. The two of them walking through summer mist, the smell of damp earth, the rain shining silver on the path, as the sun broke from the clouds. Both unintentionally wearing the same yellow raincoat. They’d only just met and their sunlight coloured coats drew them together. The wild deer were reaching up to eat berries from the trees, and the blackbirds sang their final songs of the day. They’d walked Fionn’s dog until dusk guided them home. They may have even agreed to describe it as ‘idyllic.’

“That’s too much of an honour, Fionn. Deer are too good for anyone.”

She’s right though. They are. They’re the best creatures on the planet. Her absolute favourite.

“I knew you’d say that, Alana. …But I’ll think of something.” Fionn lays his hand on her shoulder, traces his fingers over the antlers of the deer tattoo inked onto her skin, then slowly slides his palm round to gently cup her neck. “Just you wait and see.”

This time it’s Fionn who runs off, leaving both him and Alana alone with the same stupid smiles.

*------------------

The moon beams a pool of light into Harry’s hotel room.

Alana’s been with him for a little while since they finished filming in there. They’re lounging on his bed listening to Meet Me In The Hallway crackle on his baby pink vinyl player. Alana basically asked Harry to be involved in the film solely because he wrote that song. He’s been her best friend since they were children, when their families met on holiday in the Lake District. Harry’s a calming influence on her, and he fits the aesthetic of this film effortlessly, but that song, his whole album in fact, and all the photoshoots that came with it, inspired Alana as much as any painting or movie.

Alana is in some way attempting to create her own visual interpretation of Meet Me In The Hallway. The mistiness. The dreaminess; it’s both haunting and comforting. It sounds sort of like a memory. Neither completely sad nor completely happy, but there is emotion there, and it’s real. Even if you don’t know what it means, the honesty is pure. There is a history to it, and a presence. It’s sort of an in-between state, that for whatever reason, you’ve chosen to remain in. There is a neediness to it, but a neediness for something which has only just passed, and will probably come back. And this is basically how Alana wants hers and Polly’s film. …You can listen to that song in the bath, or in bed, she thinks. Or driving to the beach. Indoors by the fire, rain hitting against the window. Day or night. At home or on holiday. It has the right balance between being obvious and being vague, and it’s just nice. It’s lovely.

“I wish it lasted three hours, H” Alana ponders out loud, proudly finishing the last coat of clear glitter on Harry’s dark grey nails.

“What?” He replies. “Sex?”

Alana scowls at him and cuddles a fluffy pink cushion to her chest. “Noooo, you little scamp! I meant your beautiful song!” She exclaims and prods him in the dimple. “You’re too cute, Harry-bo.” She tells him, and it’s true. He could get away with anything. He usually does.

“Heeeeyy! I think you’re cute, Lala!” He grins. “Honestly though, you’re doing very well with this film and I’m proud of you.” He begins plaiting a small section of her hair, where she dip-dyed it yellow. “Whether you believe me or not, I think you’re pretty you know, for a lady.” They giggle together but she scrunches her face at him, dismissing the compliment. “You’re kind of like Perrie if she were ginger and in Warpaint instead of Little Mix.”

A wide grin lights Alana’s face. “Woah, that’s the absolute dream!!” She imagines. “Are you being extra nice, pet, because you want me to plait your hair too?”

Harry swings his legs clumsily off the bed and begins to put on his gold boots. “Nope. I’m being as nice as I always am, but I do need to meet Polly now for some late filming.” He explains this whilst dressing himself in a leather jacket and applying a touch of dark burgundy lipstick. “However…” he flutters his eyelashes flirtatiously “…I’m not the only boy in this corridor who thinks you’re pretty and cute.”

And with that outrageous remark, Harry skips away gleefully into the night, leaving Alana to whimper to herself in a mixture of joy and despair. Having a proper crush on someone is a horrendous ordeal. She decides this is a fact, as she tidies up hers and Harry’s nail polish and straightens the pink bed spread. She wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Her day today was an early one, she and some of the other girls drove along to record the sun rise over a lavender field, and they were mainly shooting offsite there, or during the journey. It was when Rea and Vissy lay together in the meadow that she realised perhaps she was trying to make every fantasy that Tim Walker’s photographs induced in her as a young girl come true. Either that or her genuine desire as an artist was to make an hour long glorified perfume advert.

Alana throws some pink and black cushions to the floor and sits herself down. Leaning her back against the far wall of Harry’s room, she reflects on her romantic predicament. Maybe it’s not even a predicament. Maybe it is actually hell. Or maybe she’s just overdramatic and everything is actually falling into place.

Alana never wants to be defined by another person. She doesn’t want to obsess over someone, the way that she has been. Certainly not this much, or for this long.

She has a lot to be grateful for in life, and a lot of things which bring her happiness. Alana doesn’t need a relationship, she just quite wants one. Someone to say goodnight to, to make a packed lunch for, to push the cuticles down on her nails, to clean her teeth with, to draw circles into their skin after sex, to know the mole on the right hand side of her back, to leave notes for.

She wants Fionn.

A part of her wishes she didn’t, but she really really does.

Alana’s ex broke her heart. It was complex but for years she thought she was safe with him, until he didn’t love her anymore. So she went home, she drew, she wrote, she danced, she let her friends and her mum look after her, and she walked as far into the ocean as she needed to rid herself of him. She turned her pain into art, and she got over it.

Alana made a promise after that, to live for herself until the time she met someone she didn’t need to question. She doesn’t know if that time is now or not, but she does know that when she thinks of that promise, she only thinks of Fionn.

All she ever really does is think of Fionn.

Always.

A noise through the wall wakes Alana to the realisation that Harry’s record has long stopped playing, and that she ought to descent to her own room to sleep. She’s packing the record into its sleeve and hears the muffled noise continue. These walls are so thin. They’re nicely painted, but so thin. Leaning down nearer the wall to clear the cushions, Alana hears a soft sort of grunt or moan.

With her ear pressed against the wall, the thought of sleep is in disregard. She hears it again, a deep, breathy sigh, and any thought of leaving this wall is now in complete disregard.

It’s unmistakeable.

Completely, universally, categorically, unmistakeable.

The sound of sex.

Haha! Wonderful. Alana does know she ought to leave though, these are her co-workers and friends, after all. Throwing the cushions back onto the bed, she lets herself wonder who it might be. If this is Harry’s room, then… no!

Fuck.

No!!

Absolutely no way.

She listens harder and yes, that is a man moaning… and yes, it sounds like he’s alone. But… that doesn’t mean it’s… but… Harry’s room is the end one, so… there isn’t really anyone else it could be… other than Fionn.

Oh my God.

I have to leave.

This is unprofessional, Alana. This is disrespectful. I have to…

Oh, fuck.

God, he’s really… right now. Right there!

He can’t be… but he is. Oh God.

Fuck, he’s swearing. That’s Fionn!

That’s Fionn pressed against the other side of this wall…

Right now!

Fuck, Alana. Don’t make a noise. Stop. Leave now and don’t you dare think about listening for a moment longer.

Do not touch yourself. Don’t do it.

She means to walk away but the sigh already leaves her mouth.

Alana asking herself why she’s making noises doesn’t make her any quieter, and it doesn’t make her leave any faster.

Stop it. Don’t.

Why is it so hot in here?

Why can I hear him? Like this? Right now?

Why is the wet nestling into my thigh?

She feels so much.

It’s too much.

Why does the movement behind the wall sound like its right behind her?

Fionn hits his fist against the wall.

Fuck.

No.

Alana moans. She doesn’t mean too. Fionn doesn’t mean too. It’s just so hot in there, and all the lightbulbs are red, and everything feels wet, and the air is thick, and the walls are pink and they’re so, so thin, and there’s only three more days left there on set, and Fionn groans louder just to be sure that he’s wrong.

Of course he’s wrong.

There is no girl on the other side of the wall.

He just wants there to be.

But there isn’t.

Alana’s hands don’t mean to travel up her thigh and lift her dress.

Alana’s voice doesn’t mean to call out when she holds herself against the wall and grinds into her hand.

She doesn’t mean to at all.

She wants to leave, but, well… no, she wants to stay.

What she wants is to tear down this wall that she’s pressed against, but she can’t do that.

All she can seem to do is reach her hand beneath her underwear, and feel the wet wrap round her skin, and drag her fingers up hard, and breathe out a loud sigh.

Fuck.

It can’t be.

Absolutely not.

Fionn slams his hand against the wall, and grips himself tighter and bites down hard on his lip.

How is she there?

If it even is her?

What the fuck is wrong with this building?

Why are the walls so thin?

Why does everyone fuck at the same time?

How the hell is this happening? Again??

How do two people find themselves fucking against each other in a weird pink and orange hotel with an entire wall of old bricks and missed opportunities and unspoken words between them?

Jesus Christ.

Fionn doesn’t press his mouth against the wall and breathe out Alana’s name deeply through his lips.

He surely did not just do that.

No.

He couldn’t have.

…But if he hadn’t… why would the girl behind the wall gasp like that?

Why would she moan so loudly in response?

What she actually means is to leave right now but instead Alana flings her body around desperately, her forehead meeting the wall, she moves her finger tips in tiny circles, pounding them hard into her clit.

There can be no going back now, it’s already gone this far.

Fionn has nothing to lose. Or maybe he has everything to lose. Or maybe he doesn’t care.

Not right now.

He thrusts so hard into his hand, his dick is inches away from grinding against the wall that his hand holds him against.

“Ah! Alanaa… fuck!”

Fuck.

He said her name.

He just said her fucking name!

God.

“Ah! A...lana …mmm yess!”

Fionn has literally just fucked himself against a wall, loudly moaning Alana’s name.

She grasps her hand against the other side of the same wall, to pull at nothing, her body flinches and jumps, she gasps for air and groans out.

There’s no point in being quiet now.

She means to say ‘fuck’ but it sort of sounds like ‘Fionn’.

“Yes! Alana. Fuck.”

He speaks to her from the other side. This is it.

“Fionn! Fionn! Ah, fucking God!!”

This cannot be happening.

They’re fucking each other and they can’t even see it or feel it.

Alana’s so close. Her fingers are slipping, she’s so wet. She throbs and pants, breathless and so close.

“Alana”

Fionn’s voice speaks to her through the wall. It sounds calm, deep. Firm, and definite.

Almost dominant.

“Cum for me.”

“Please.”

Alana breathes in sharply with a sudden moan. “Fuck!! Fuuuuck!”

Her head slowly stretches back to hang, facing the ceiling, as she feels the breath escaping her lungs, leaving her mouth in a soft sigh of his name. She cums with two fingers pressed hard against her clit, her hips thrusting forward in short, intense jolts. Her moan squeaks and she sighs heavily, breathing out a clear “Fiiiionn”

The two of them stand in the same position, their foreheads resting against the same spot on separate sides of the same wall.

They breathe in and out deeply as their heart rates regulate.

Fionn and Alana shakily tug their underwear back on and briefly let their eyes close.

After a little while of quiet, Alana asks “Should I say sorry?”

She doesn’t know neighbour sex etiquette, but surely that’s the polite thing to say when you masturbate against a wall with someone uninvited.

“No” Fionn laughs. “You really don’t need to say sorry. Not at all”

Phew.

“Do I need to say sorry?” He asks, suddenly sounding concerned. He rests his palm out against his side of the wall.

“No, Fionn. Never.” Alana sits back on the floor, and rests her head back. “Not for anything.”

She hears another mumbled laugh. “Good, because that was fun!”

Oh, man!

Alana chuckles to herself and calls back. “You’re amazing Fionn, really.”

“Wait until there isn’t a wall between us!” He knocks on it twice, leans back against it and laughs.

Oh my God.

“See you tomorrow, darling.” Alana says, standing up and neatening her dress. “I’d better go because this probably isn’t really ok.” She laughs sort of nervously and sweeps her fringe out of her eyes.

“Bye, deer.” Fionn smiles and pulls his t-shirt back on. “Goodnight, Alana”

“Goodnight” She says, and kisses her side of the wall. “Sweet dreams, Dolfionn.”

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

CHAPTER 3

Most of the visual content had been shot, there weren’t too many days left at all now. Harry and everyone else had basically done their bit. Everyone stayed from start to finish though, to boost morale and maintain the team effort, and because they were all still enjoying themselves. A lot of the bodies on set were simply required as extras now, there to be seen dancing and drifting through the background, in some sort of flamboyant garment.

The only major part left was the pool scene with Fionn and Alana, well… with Toby and Isla, technically. The only clear thought in the film. Maybe the only clear thought in Fionn’s mind. …If he forgets about another night of questionable masturbation preferences, that is.

But he’s got to do it now. He has to. Time feels like it’s running out, but it also feels like it’s on his side, running towards him. Towards them. Fionn needs to see this through, somehow. Even if he’s cheating a little and doing it through his character, Toby, Fionn is finally going to do this. …The Plan.

Polly’s voice is calmly reassuring her friends to remember that they know what they’re doing and that she believes in them. “Anything that feels natural, yeah? Whatever you both do or say, it won’t be wrong.”

Would you say that about last night, Pol? Alana tells her brain to shut up. Get your head in the game, girl! This isn’t the time to make up rude jokes in your head.

Polly shuffles back, mostly out of view, and the camera men and women are situated comfortably far back. “We have all evening, guys, so take your time.” Everything feels as organic as a pink swimming pool surrounded by rhododendron bushes and orange beanbags can feel. …and if you ignore the night before.

Fionn lies across his chest with his face held in his hands and peers up at Alana through his clear framed glasses. He’s wearing a striped shirt beneath an old denim jacket and repeatedly telling himself not to blush. He draws a breath and feels a deep sickness in the pit of his stomach. But he’s a professional actor. He can do this. Well… he used to be professional.

Here it goes. The Scene, The Plan, whatever you want to call it.

“I think.”

Oh, he started too sure.

“…I don’t think.”

Alana sighs a soft laugh. “Good start, Toby”

“Stop it, Isla”

Toby sits up right, removes his glasses and crosses his legs. Isla watches him fondly.

Oh my gosh, she thinks to herself. Something’s definitely happening. Don’t think about last night. Because something is about to happen.

She chances a glance, both Isla and Alana.

Fuck. ..His jaw line.

Another glance. Oh God. Regulate your breathing, remember.

Her eyes travel from the low set of Fionn’s eyebrows, to the verdant green of his iris. Across the freckles on his cheeks, down the sharp line of his nose. The bump of his top lip, the mole on his chin. The prominence of his Adam’s apple, the ring pierced in his ear. There’s something about the angles of his face Alana feels she’ll never tire of admiring.

“I don’t think…”

Oh, shit. Listen.

He isn’t speaking through a wall anymore.

Listen to him, Isla. Listen to Toby.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody that I’ve been so intrigued by.”

Isla takes a breath, feels aware of every vein and pore in her body, keeps her mouth closed, and tells herself to listen.

“You’re sweet. And lovely, and really cool, and nice. And friendly. But. There’s more, like… to you, than that.”

Keep it together Fionn, you can do this. You’re only acting.

So why does this feel so important?

It’s not just the cameras, he can’t look at her. This is scarier than he thought, for both him and his character. Look at the pool, that’s a good idea.

“I mean, you’re… kind of like water. But… but, not. But maybe you are. I mean…”

Just go for it, Fi. He hears Harry’s voice in his head, encouraging him.

“You were born by the sea, Isla. You always say you like the ocean…”

He should not have said that. That’s too real. That’s Fionn and not Toby. That’s Alana and not Isla. It’s too far from the script. But there is no script. Oh Jesus, he’s going to be fired. He’ll never act again.

“I do.”

She whispers.

Alana. No… Isla.

“I do like the ocean.”

Toby looks at her, and there are lights reflecting in her eyes.

“I like dolphins.”

She did not just do that.

Fionn allows himself to laugh, surely Toby would laugh at that.

But he has more to say. Both Toby and Fionn. She deserves more …Isla and Alana.

“I think you’re great, Isla. I don’t really know what to say because you make me nervous. But in a nice way. But you make me comfortable, and happy too. And funny, maybe?”

“You’re really really funny.” She says.

Oh boy, there she is.

Keep going Toby.

“…And you’re encouraging, and kind. And your voice is like nothing I’ve heard, and you look…amazing. Just lovely. And you work hard, your mind… the way your mind works, and the ideas that are born inside it, astound me. And your eyes are so big and they’re like, green. But no…brown. Orange? Hazel. Yeah, hazel. A deep, enchanting hazel, and… and I’m saying this because. Erm, because… I should have said it sooner.”

Here we go.

“I should have said it last year when we walked in the park after it stopped raining, or when we made that salad together at Alex’s house.”

She’ll know exactly who he means.

“…Or at that gig, or when I saw you buying all those vegetables that time, or when you bumped into me at that café with my family, or maybe I should have just turned up at your door and declared it, or…”

Maybe Toby’s getting carried away, but its Art. Maybe this is what feels organic to him. Maybe this is what Isla wants to hear, maybe it is professional to use a live film set to confess your actual feelings for your co-star, and maybe, maybe he can’t stop… “Or maybe I should have written you a letter, or even sang you a song, or maybe even pressed orange roses through your letter box, but…

Fionn finally looks at her so that Toby isn’t declaring this to his hands and she’s… she’s not… crying? No. She’s smiling, but… well, kind of crying, and, both. Yes. She’s sort of smile crying into her hand, but it’s quite cute. Everything she does is cute.

“…I was scared.”

“For some weird reason I just felt scared, maybe that I would let you down, Isla, or simply that I liked you too much, or maybe not enough. Or that the timing was wrong, and we’d be too busy, but…I just always wanted more. And you were always there. Even when I didn’t think you would be. But I didn’t want to come to expect you, but you always seemed so happy to see me. You were so friendly and you kept saying nice things to me, and touching my arm. But, I know you do that to everyone...”

Keep going Fionn, it’s for the film. You’re a great actor.

“My dog likes you. And my sisters like you, and… and Alex said that you like me.”

There’s no way back now, just carry on.

“And… well, yeah. That was nice to hear. Everything said about you is nice to hear. Your voice, especially, is nice to hear. I just… I suppose that if there were ever a choice for you to be somewhere or to not be somewhere, and I suppose by ‘somewhere’ I mean with me, by my side, I’d much rather that you were. There. …By my side, I mean. Than not there.”

Fionn takes what feels like his first breath in several hours and what might actually be his first breath in several hours.

“I guess that’s the best I’ve got. For now, anyway.” He says. “But maybe I can work on it.” He’s not speaking to the crew, but still to Alana. Well, no. It’s Toby speaking to Isla.

He realises all the extras have gone inside, and the moon has replaced the sun, and the butterflies are sleeping and Alana, well… Isla, is wearing a loose red cardigan he never saw her put on. And she’s sitting right in front of him though he never noticed her move forward.

Somehow Alana is holding Fionn’s hand in hers, although he never felt her take it. He realises the cameras are still rolling, of course they are. And the set lights are still shining on the tears in Alana’s eyes and he wonders where she learnt to be such a good actress that she could just cry like that.

And then he hears her soft, angelic voice though he never saw her open her mouth, and he realises she’s talking to him.

“Of course I like you, Toby.” Isla breathes out. “I always have.”

She’s such a good actress.

Listen to her.

“You’re intelligent and creative. And you’re respectful about everything. The way you talk, about things, it’s so… earnest, and important. And I could listen to you, for ages. You speaking… you’re voice…I dunno. You’re just compassionate, and so endearing. And you’re so cool! God, you have no idea, but that just makes it better! You’re so humble and wonderful and your singing voice, Jesus Christ!! You’re sort of unbelievable. You’re sort of everything, but mostly, you’re just so nice, and you work hard. And you care about your family, and you’re really funny!”

Alana’s sort of exasperated, as if she’s only realising all of Fionn’s amazing qualities right now but she isn’t, she’s known the whole time she’s known him. She has to keep going though. Isla does.

“You make me care about things more. I learn things through you, you’re just great… I don’t, know… you’re really peaceful. It sounds silly but knowing that you exist, in my life, somehow, is just… really soothing, and reassuring. You’re a bit weird, you’ve got your quirks and everything, but so do I, and… I guess it doesn’t really matter.” She says. “I mean look at you! You’re lovely. So, so lovely. You’re just… real. There’s this grace and composure about you that I’ve never witnessed in anyone else.”

God, she’s good.

Fionn thinks he might see one of the camerawomen moving position and the sound technician move the mic, but all he’s looking at are Alana’s eyes on him, open wide and shining, staring into his.

Maybe the plan is working?

“Toby, I suppose I don’t really know all that much about you, but I don’t know if I need to, because I know enough to know that I feel something.”

Neither Toby nor Fionn know if the feel of lips blowing air against skin is the breeze or the feeling of two sets of knuckles folded together.

“I kept waiting for it to fizzle out, but it never did. I could never just appreciate you in moderation …I wanted more, too.” She speaks. And yes, maybe this is finally happening. And it doesn’t matter with whose voice she speaks, Isla’s or her own. “There were times I was unsure if I wanted you in reality, or if it were safer to enjoy the idea of you, but there was just something...” Alana moves their hands to rest in her lap, her heart crashing in her throat, and she speaks firmly, hopefully in Isla’s voice. “There is just something about you I never felt ready or able to leave behind. And I still don’t want to. I’ve always wanted you, and I still do.”

Fionn thinks he can hear plants rustling beneath a soft wind but he doesn’t know because neither he nor Toby would be listening to that. It’s not important. This is happening. He feels sick, in the most beautiful way.

“For a while, admittedly, I tried to pretend you were only a concept.” Isla pauses, her eyes switch between focusing on Toby’s and studying the stitching on his sleeve.

Just keep going, Alana. It’s for the film.

“I wish I could say I was an actress.” Isla’s free hand climbs Toby’s forearm and rests at his elbow. “…That there was a reason for all this.”

Oh Jesus. It’s for the Film, ok?

Fionn lifts his eyes from looking at Alana’s hand nestled in his, and meets her eyes. “You just had this grip on me.” Isla says, but it is Alana’s eyes that are still glossy. “…And whether either of us intended it to or not, your presence just somehow seeped into everything, and thoughts of you consumed me, but not even in a bad way! Just in a constant and certain way, and I… I made art about you.”

It’s too late now, she thinks. She’s said it.

“Everything I’ve done has sort of stemmed from initially thinking about you. All of this, in a weird and kind of unintentional way, it’s sort of all for you.”

Toby scans from Isla across to the plants which frame her; lavender, foxglove, fuscia. His eyes travel into the still water, decorated with petals and confetti and sequins, through all the other orange and lilac and yellow flowers in the far corner, up into the deep red and golden sunset which seeps into the sea, and then back to her. Gems glisten in her ears, glitter lines her eye lids. A peacock butterfly is tattooed onto her shoulder, and a pale pink flower is woven into her hair. She smiles the sweetest smile and her eyes are full of honesty. “You’re a bee.” He says.

They laugh …finally.

Fionn, Toby, Alana, Isla. It doesn’t matter. Their hands separate and they move to align their bodies side by side, legs stretched in front of them. “You wear yellow, you’re rare, and you like flowers. Everything surrounding you is pretty. You like the outdoors. You sort of fly around everywhere, pollinating everything, I’m not sure what with… but wherever you go, you leave a trace of something hopeful. What you give out is sort of necessary and appreciated. Your words, or art, or smile. I don’t know. But, it’s always nice to see you.” He says. “You’re a bee. …That can be your name. That’s what I’ll call you.”

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

CHAPTER 4

Morning sun rises slowly in a pale sky and shines weakly through the open window.

The eyes watching Alana are interrogative, in a caring way. Unflinching, deep with questions, but safe. Familiar. A silvery grey blue, with lashes painted black fluttering above them.

“Mornin’ Poll! How’re you feeling?” She asks her friend, it’s a genuine question but she anticipates it won’t be answered.

“Yesterday, Al.” Polly’s eyes widen. “Yesterday.”

“Yesterday was Tuesday.” Alana smiles around a spoonful of fruit salad, investigates a kiwi in her bowl with more interest than needed, and she absolutely doesn’t blush. Not at all. It might be sunburn.

“Alana, please!” Polly reaches across the pink breakfast table and holds onto Alana’s arm.

“I thought I was meant to be the actress round here!” But she can’t keep this up, Alana quickly retreats into shy grumbles and unsure whimpers and adolescent giggles and she cradles her knees to her chest. “Yesterday was amazing, if not maybe a little odd, I suppose? Quite intense. Very, very beautiful, but intense.” She admits, half smiling, half nervously puckering her lips.

“It was amazing, Alana! I could barely watch, I felt like I wasn’t allowed to be there …I couldn’t breathe. I think Isaac the lighting guy was crying! We were all sweating afterwards, just looking at each other in silence. No one knew what to say.” Polly’s a little manic, it was obvious that she’d been holding this in all night. “Acting rarely creates that kind of atmosphere, Alana, I know Fionn’s amazing at his job, obviously, but there was tension. That was super intense!” She decides. “What you both said was personal and obviously, undoubtedly, completely real.”

Alana can only respond with a quiet ‘hmm.’ It’s all out there now, she guesses. Everything. Exposed, honest, said. Everything’s finally been said. Everything she thought and dreamt and wrote and hoped for all year has finally been said…Unless by some miracle all of the shots are unusable and they have to burn everything and no one will ever know a thing. Or maybe the sound is somehow so poor that they have to just make up some random subtitles, or add loads of effects, or maybe even play the speech backwards like in Twin Peaks. Maybe that would be better? Maybe she should suggest it?

“Alana, please.” Polly brings her back to earth. “Please don’t you dare get nervous and avoid him now. Things between you and him do not end with that scene, you know that, right?”

She’s right. God, of course she is. Alana reaches out to hold her friend’s hand and listen to her.

“Lana, you haven’t come this far to freak out about it now. You don’t actually have anything to be scared of anymore. It is quite clear that he feels the same. He is absolutely lovely and believe it or not, you are a catch.”

Alana laughs weakly and brings hers and Polly’s hands up to her mouth to press her lips nervously and tenderly into Polly’s fingers.

“Go and see him, petal. You’ve both done more than enough for this film and all of us can start packing stuff up.” Polly tells her. “Everything you have waited for is happening now. Go and see him. Today.”

Alana squeezes her friend’s hand and smiles at her. “Thank you, Pea. Thank you so much, for pulling me together!” She says. “I love you.” Alana stands to clear her dishes with a slightly wobbly hand, but a big smile on her face. “I’ll do it.”

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

There is a backless pink bench situated in a secluded corner of a small garden behind the pool. Bull rushes, flag irises and orange water flowers stand tall in a small turquoise pond dressed with layers of lily pads. A willow tree hangs its branches over the grass, the fine green leaves reflect in shards of mirror mosaicked into the pink wall at the back. White butterflies with orange tipped wings and painted-lady butterflies jitter around pink and yellow flower heads.

Fionn is sitting on the bench, cradling a bright pink mug and blowing lightly over the surface to cool down his morning coffee. A navy blue tee-shirt stretches over his chest, soft strands of brown hair curl messily over his forehead. Sunlight paints patches of white light over his face, and tangles into the hair on his legs. Despite not being a morning person, Fionn feels peaceful as he watches little bubbles travel up to the surface of the pond water, he sees them pop with a content smile on his face.

He feels a hand slowly stroke his back then tenderly smooth down his hair from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck.

Alana slides her hand down Fionn’s arm as she sits herself on the bench to face him. She folds her leg to rest her knee on Fionn’s thigh and she says a happy, shy good morning. Fionn places his hand gently on her leg and laughs out an equally shy greeting.

Fionn and Alana are both slow and quiet. As if they woke too early. They are not sleepy but the day is unfamiliarly new, it feels like the morning has paused so it can stretch out for longer than normal. The sun is awaiting their instruction before it rises higher in the sky.

Alana rests her head against Fionn’s shoulder and laughs out “I don’t know what to say!” She feels his two fingers and thumb slide to cup her chin and trace the edge of her jaw. Fionn sweeps his fingers up Alana’s face to push her hair behind her ear, so slowly and softly that his knuckles tickle her skin. She takes his hand in hers, looks at him and smiles. “Maybe we’ve already said everything.”

Fionn turns so each of his legs are on either side of the bench with Alana sat cross legged between them. Their hands hold each other’s thighs. He smiles softly. “Yeah, maybe we have said it all now.”

“Thank you for everything you said.” Alana speaks, earnestly. They sigh quietly through little smiles and slow blinks as they realise that they’ve finally sorted everything out. “Thank you, too.” Fionn says. Alana reaches her arms around Fionn’s neck to hug him and he holds her with his arms wrapped round her back.

Their faces nestle into each other’s necks, cheeks squished into tight smiles. Close, skin pressed inside folds and corners of skin. The morning, their skin pressed together in the morning. No walls between them. No water between them. No windows between them. No unspoken words between them. No cities between them. They’ve done it. They are here. Together.

Their hug loosens a little and they rest their cheeks together with their eyes closed. They stay like that for a while, or what feels like a while, or what feels like no time at all. Eyelids shut softly and they breathe in and out slowly, they rub their cheeks together ever so slightly, almost like deer. The tips of Fionn and Alana’s noses and lips brush over each other’s skin in the hazy yellow morning light. Fionn gently ghosts faint kisses along Alana’s jaw and onto her chin. They are gentle and slow. No rush. Just waking up. Alana leaves a trail of small kisses along Fionn’s neck and onto his face and up to his forehead.

Fionn kisses the end of Alana’s nose. “So we’re good?” She asks him with a smirk and locks her hands around the back of his neck. “We’re, like… friends…and stuff?” She laughs.

“Alana.” Fionn says her name seriously with a raised eyebrow. “Come on!” He smooths his palms over the back of her head and cups her face in his hands.

“Okay” She smiles. “More than friends, please?”

“That’s better.” Fionn nods. “More than friends.”

They’re still smiling even when they try not to. It’s in their eyes and their whole faces, their whole bodies. It could be embarrassing but they don’t care. It’s only the two of them anyway, and they’ve waited long enough. A year and a bit isn’t that long, really, but it felt like it.

“Are we…” Alana leans closer to Fionn to speak in his ear “…Together?” She asks him in a giggle, with a small knot in her stomach, and she takes his ear lobe into her mouth to suck in a little kiss. Fionn whispers into her ear, his lips touch her skin with every word. “I think… that we are together, Alana.” He kisses her cheek. “Yes.”

“Good!” She sighs. “That’s wonderful to hear.” She turns to smile against the corner of his lips. “Phew!”

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to tell you how I felt.” Fionn admits, linking their fingers together. And Alana replies, smoothing her hand over his. “Don’t be. You’re worth the wait, and I’m really sorry it took me such weird and dramatic methods to tell you how I felt.”

They laugh and Alana wraps her legs around Fionn’s waist, he holds his arms around the bottom of her back. They rest their foreheads together. They are comfortable and happy, but nerves still tickle them and shoot up inside their stomachs, like an itch. It’s comfortable but new at the same time. They are so close now, hugging and resting their heads together, but they itch, they both know it, silently. Slowly, with twitches in their bellies, Fionn and Alana lift their heads up, their chins meet gently, they tilt their heads slightly, slowly. They close their eyes, and they slowly press their lips together in a soft, gentle peck. They smile slightly then open their lips to slide between each other’s in another kiss. Their lips open and meet again, and again. Fionn and Alana share a slow, long kiss. She rubs her hand over Fionn’s hair where she lightly holds the back of his neck. He gently lays his hand on her jaw. Alana can feel the shape of Fionn’s top lip between hers. Their lips are warm together. Soft, and they move slowly. Continuously. Soft, wet and gentle. The very faint flavours of coffee and toothpaste mix and taste much better than they should. Sort of comforting. Sort of sweet, sort of funny. Nice. Their lips are close, always. Never leaving, never stopping. Keeping kissing. Sliding. Long, slow, deep, wet, soft kisses. Sentences of long kisses, punctuated with little kisses. A paragraph for a kiss. Their lips are pink and kissing makes them more pink. They kiss in the garden. They sit on the pink bench, in the little garden with the pink walls, by the turquoise pond with the pink lotus flowers, and they kiss. They finally kiss because they finally can.

They kiss every word they never said into each other’s lips. They kiss every word they did say to each other, by the pool at sunset last night. They kiss for every look they shared across every room they’ve been in. They kiss for every inch of distance they ever had between them. They kiss for every time they could have kissed sooner. They kiss for every person who told them to kiss sooner. They kiss for them kissing now. They kiss for them kissing again. They kiss for them finally getting it right. They kiss for the first time because it’s not the last time. They kiss till the sun rises higher in the sky and tells them the day has begun.

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

CHAPTER 5

(Bonus chapter with plot twist)

September 2019

Fionn is at home, his dog Lewis curling up to his side, and Alana cuddling the other. Their limbs, dressed in comfy jeans and woollen autumn jumpers, tangle lazily on the sofa. Fionn looks up from reading and meets Alana with a wide and fond, if not slightly bemused, and maybe even teary-eyed smile. He places what he’s just read onto the table; a short story self-printed and hand bound in baby pink card, titled ‘Pink Dolphin’.

He chuckles and leans in to give Alana a lingering kiss. “Bless you” he tells her. “This is crazy, this story. It’s amazing! I can’t believe you did that, it’s so funny!” Fionn shakes his head with an amused smile. “Yeah, it’s maybe a tiny tiny bit strange, and it’s pretty hot!” He says. “But honestly… that’s maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Fionn smiles even wider and lays his hand across his heart. “Parts of that really, really got to me. That was so, so nice!”

Alana reaches out to take Fionn’s hand in hers and breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Phewww, thank God!” She looks at him with wide, innocent eyes and a smile, as if she didn’t just share her dirty fanfiction with him. Fionn chuckles and pinches Alana’s nose. He runs his thumb over her cheek to show he’s just teasing. The pair of them nervously giggle. Even after almost 3 years together, they’re still as awkward with each other as they are comfortable.

Alana tucks her legs under Fionn’s and holds Lewis’ paw. “I never even planned for you to read it, you know! I was so embarrassed, I’m so sorry!” She laughs at herself, and at Fionn laughing at her. “I know I’m a bit of an idiot, I just really love you and you’re very inspiring!” Alana snorts a laugh at the facial expressions Fionn is pulling at her. “It’s all completely Harry and Louis’ fault anyway! They made me write it by planting the idea in my head! They’re out of control.”

“I’ll tell you one thing.” Fionn replies, wrapping one of Alana’s legs up in his arms and resting his face against her knee. “Fionn is right.” He points to the pink laminated document on the table and picks it up. “You are ridiculous!” He laughs, swatting at her with her own story. “All of you are absolutely, beautifully, stupidly, impossibly, ridiculously, ridiculous! I have no idea why I spend time with any of you.”

Alana stretches away from him, laughing. “I’m ridiculously in love with you!” She sings. “We all are, does that help!??”

“It only helps a tiny bit, you lunatic!” Fionn laughs, pulling his girlfriend back into his arms. “When Harry said he’d dared you to write fanfiction about us aaaaages ago, I certainly never expected you to have taken it this far, or gone to that much effort! It’s craaazy but it’s honestly brilliant though, and I’m very flattered …but don’t tell Harry that.”

“Ah thank God, though, honestly!” Alana sighs again, kissing Fionn’s knuckles. “I was so worried you’d be absolutely disgusted, and outraged, and confused, and just want to leave me immediately, and then be angry at Harry too!” She gushes, far too dramatically. “You know… Louis even tried to get me to post it online!! Can you believe him!?” She admits, her eyes wild with excitement and confession.

“I just wrote it cos it helped me to, like, deal with you.” She explains, a little more peacefully. “I didn’t wanna get obsessed or anything, or invest too much in our relationship too soon. I just wanted to be calm, and to enjoy fancying you, and happily take things slow, so transferring some emotion into this helped.” She admits. “I wrote it before we were properly together, and I know it sounds odd, and I know I’m really dramatic… but it just made sense to me, and it was fun! I tried to keep all this hidden for all these years, and I pretended that I never actually wrote any, just on the off chance you got mad at me or were, like, really disturbed.”

Fionn laughs loudly at how stressed Alana’s getting. She is so silly. He is actually really enjoying this. Seeing her freak out and feel awkward is pretty funny. It’s adorable, actually. “I’m not angry with you!” He has to save her at some point. “I’m actually really glad that you took Harry’s dare, or advice?, so seriously, and wrote such an amazing story and managed to hang onto it all this time!” Fionn moves to rest his chin on top of Alana’s head. “And it clearly worked, cos we’re all good.”

“You made us into art, Alana, and that is really sweet and a real privilege. You know I’d never judge you for doing something which helps or inspires you.” He says. “You knew that at some point I’d eventually reveal you to the world as the arty mad woman that I was somehow in love with, and I suppose if we do decide to share this beautiful, funny, wonderful, weird, sexy, and ridiculous story that you’ve created, then maybe that would be as good a way as any for us to ‘come out’.” He jokes with her and kisses her on the temple.

Alana giggles and combs her fingers through Fionn’s hair. “Yeah. We’re really private, Dolfionn, and we hope to ‘come out’ in a quiet and simple way…let’s definitely reveal this epic, dramatic, arty, cinematic, fantasy filth about us!” She plays along. “Sure! Maybe we should... Maybe it’s a brilliant idea! Maybe it would be funny?” She lays her head in Fionn’s lap and tickles Lewis under his ears.

Fionn rests his hand over Alana’s tummy. “Yeah, I definitely think so. Louis’ onto something... It would be silly and endearing, like us! But no… seriously, if we just stay calm, don’t make much fuss, and continue living our lives quietly like we always do…” He starts, “And I’ll keep mainly just talking about acting in any interviews, then everything will definitely be fine when people do know.” Alana has to agree with him. She meant it when she said Fionn was inspiring.

“I’m happy for people to know about us now, but we can definitely still be private.” He reassures them both. “We’re not giving Harry and Louis the satisfaction of sharing that story anyway!” Fionn laughs and slides his hand beneath Alana’s jumper, to slowly run his fingers over her warm skin. “What I’m most concerned with now, however…” He leans closer. “…is fucking you through a wall.” He teases but reaches further up under Alana’s top, and licks a stripe up her neck. “You wrote some incredibly sexy things and I was very impressed.”

Alana laughs and tugs at Fionn’s hair. She sits up to straddle him and leave wet, introductory kisses up Fionn’s neck. “So, just to completely clarify first, you’re absolutely sure that you’re definitely not annoyed or embarrassed that I wrote that??” She double checks, stroking the soft hair on Fionn’s arms beneath his jumper sleeves.

“You’re pretty difficult to be angry with, bee.” Fionn smiles and holds Alana’s hips beneath her jumper. “I’m maybe the tiniest bit surprised? If not just at how detailed it is, even though I really shouldn’t be because this is actually typical you… and its typical Harry and Louis! But honestly, love, no.” He answers. “I’m not annoyed with you at all. I absolutely love it, and I actually find the whole thing really cute!” He tells her. “I might be embarrassed if your story were shit, but luckily I’m quite a fan.” Fionn flirts and rests his head against Alana’s chest, kissing it through her clothes.

Alana cradles Fionn’s head in her arms. “I know I’m silly and weird, pet, but for what it’s worth, I meant the things that I wrote. Well… what Harry forced me to write!” She jokes but winds loving kisses into Fionn’s hair and down over his throat. “I meant it a lot, petal, the romantic bits as well as the naughty bits.”

“I know. I can tell that you did, bee, you don’t need to say sorry and I honestly do sincerely appreciate it.” Fionn says. “I appreciate yours and Harry’s unorthodox tactics to deal with your overwhelming love for me!” He jokes between tickles and cuddles and he playfully bites Alana’s shoulder. Lewis wakes up and happily scrambles off into the other room.

“For what it’s worth, Al, I would say everything to you that you wrote in that story, because it’s all completely true, and you deserve to hear it every day, and I’m really proud of you. And I really do love you. And I appreciate everything we have together.” He kisses her firmly and pulls her closer into his lap and against his body. “I love you so fucking much, you adorable weirdo.”

“I love you, Fionn.” Alana sighs out and holds his face tightly up to hers, stroking her thumbs over his cheeks. “I really really love you a lot. Thank you for everything. For putting up with me so well, and for always being so kind.” She kisses his lips. “And wonderful.” She kisses him again. “And pretty.” Another kiss. “And amazing.” Kiss. “And sweet.”

Fionn holds the back of her neck and they kiss quickly through deep breaths. Alana’s hands run down Fionn’s chest and he squeezes the backs of her thighs tightly, moving his hand up her back and into her hair. In the moments Fionn’s lips aren’t held between Alana’s he informs her “We’re reading the rude scenes aloud to each other while we have sex, you know.”

Alana sinks lower onto Fionn’s lap and hurriedly pulls off his jumper. “Yes! God, I know.”

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zheniavasiliev · 6 years

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on cyborg gender

We can only create the AI that would be a tool to solve a certain problem, for example self-driving car or a chess-winning robot - we cannot create “general AI” because we don’t know what we need it for.

The claim often pronounced by creative technologists today that “the larger issues of what it means to be a human” is what technology needs to confront (G.Hertz, Disobedient Electronics: Protest, P.2). But is this issue larger or more important than the traditional social arguments surrounding gender and race?

I’m going to find out that gender and race are not only crucial in understanding where humans stand with relation to technology, but also defining categories for identification of the AI.

Gender studies looks like a promising subject to expand on in relation to technology, because it could constitute a strong biology/body/nature related argument in my discussion of a cyborg. However, I need to see where performativity fits in here - likely through K.Barad conceptualisation of posthumanist performativity. On the other hand, I wrote on cyber-proletariat and real software abstraction before, and would be a shame not to make some use of that in this thesis.

By placing gender next to technology, we shift the idea of gender out of purely biological or cultural domain, and start seeing the human in terms of technological mediation, as a mix of science, art and culture (Wendy Hui Kyong Chun, Race and/as Technology; or, How to Do Things to Race, P.8). What is the political tension between race, gender and machine? Haraway’s claim (Cyborg Manifesto, P. 292) that the cyborg “gives us our politics” should now be understood in xenofeminist terms – that science is inevitably a tool of capitalism? (Xenofeminism. Helen Hester. Polity Press. 2018, in Long Read Review: ‘Repurpose your Desire: Xenofeminism and Millennial Politics’ by Mareile Pfannebecker)

Problems with queering the cyborg: It is remarkable that while techno-queer theory is talking extensively about the cyborg, it still remains largely human-centric (as in, for example, the Open Source Gender Codes project (http://opensourcegendercodes.com/projects/osg/) This theoretical field seems to focus on the body and politics of humans, and not the algorithmical and networked/distributed parameters of the machine (find facts to disprove this?). So it is more about the human-machine alliance, not machine-human, and thus inevitably ends up in activism and human rights discourse wherever it shoots.

Problems with Critical Making: Terranova (Red Stack Attack! Algorithms, Capital and the Automation of the Common, EuroNomade) and Critical Making (CM) protagonists are quite optimistic about the alternative use of technologies. CM movement, however tends to fall, on the one hand, into a localist view (e.g. inability to tackle world’s larger issues via local solutions) and on the other hand, look at those makers who they agree with. When Matt Ratto says “open design can be employed to... reconnect materiality and morality” (http://opendesignnow.org/index.html%3Fp=434.html), is it the maker who decides what is moral, and what kind of wider impact the product of their making is going to be (e.g. if that’s a virus or a deadly weapon which operates on its own and doesn’t have an exit protocol). This leads me to think that most of CM discourse resides in a clear-cut/implied ‘protest’ paradigm – which means makers are viewed as a group that shares a common ideology (examples that disprove this point?). However, this goes contrary to the idea that CM theorists like Garnet Hertz advocate – as an ‘open design’ accessible to all, including ones who do not share Hertz’ views.

Problems with being human (this is the summary of my original PhD proposal): New ‘online media’ class is created through different types of exchange happening through human sense of vision and the interface and is a political process. Art in this context is seen as technology’s aesthetic, existential, social and ethical (AESE) values that lie outside of traditional capitalist exchange-production cycle. The new digital class is an ‘aesthetic’ class, because it produces AESE values and resists traditional capitalism in a novel way due to the non-commercial nature of knowledge sharing on digital networks. Human actors in such communication are ‘distributed beings’ - organisms whose genetic code or behaviour is modified by digital networks. New mode of production on digital networks does not belong within capitalism, where you have production-exchange cycle, because it places value in the process rather than outcome. Examples of non-human agents: Stuxnet virus, search agents, chatbots (don not produce AESE value). Being human in this context would mean to be able to produce AESE values (non-human agents are designed to either analyse or destroy them).

Literature review

Search terms: computational aesthetics, cyborg gender, queer software, posthumanist performativity

Manuel DeLanda suggests that if history was to be written by a robot historian, it would be a different kind of history, focused around the impact of technology on humans. The military application of AI expressed in his book is interesting, however I cannot see yet how it would relate to performativity of gender in media art - the link I see now is either sci-fi or video games, e.g. media trajectories that explore warfare as their subjects. (War in the Age of Intelligent Machines by Manuel De Landa, P.3)

Mediation “gives us insight into the lifeness, or vitality, of media“. We need to shift our attention from media objects such as smartphones, to mediation, understood here as the interlocking of technical, social and biological processes. (Book Review: Life After New Media: Mediation as a Vital Process by Sarah Kember and Joanna Zylinska by Kim Toffoletti, in: LSE Review of Books, P.1 and 6)

Kittler’s notion that “technology and media co-exist with organic life-forms” would serve as a useful link between media and cyborg gender (Niall Flynn, Book Review: Kittler Now: Current Perspectives in Kittler Studies).

Mechanised thought is a form of reason. Algorithms do not replicate human autonomy – they have one of their own, the one that pertains to the final aim of executing rules (completion) (Beatrice Fazi, Luciana Parizi, Do Algorithms Have Fun?, P. 125 in Fun and Software: Exploring Pleasure, Paradox and Pain in Computing by Olga Goriunova)

Computational aesthetics: "Computing and its aesthetics are no longer 'owned' by the disciplines and fields that grew up closely in and around it." (Computational Aesthetics, M. Fuller, B. Fazi, P. 281, 294)

Xenofeminists claim that science is inevitably a tool of capitalism, however there is a way of repurposing it, rather than refusing it outright. Xenofeminism is defined here as “queer- and trans-inclusive communist feminism that begins with our bodies’ inextricable relationship to technology”. In resistance to technoscientific neoliberalism,”‘absolute caution’, as the manifesto puts it, is impossible, but instead of surrendering, we can begin resistance by taking possession” - by directly challenging the ownership and control of technological infrastructures of everyday life. This is thought of along the lines of sharing medical resources among women in the 70s (example from nowadays could be the Open Source Gender Codes project). For Hester, like for Haraway, ”gender, class and race as historical categories of oppression ripe for abolition”. Xenofeminist answer to repurposing neoliberal ideals is then ”to stay on the side of what you want without moralism or obligatory consciousness-raising, but to do so in the spirit of a solidarity that aims for systemic political change” (Xenofeminism. Helen Hester. Polity Press. 2018, in Long Read Review: ‘Repurpose your Desire: Xenofeminism and Millennial Politics’ by Mareile Pfannebecker).

Key trends in Critical Making. Today’s CM thinking mostly revolves around the inquiry into how design responds to complex issues (G. Hertz, Disobedient Electronics 2017, http://www.disobedientelectronics.com/resources/Hertz-Disobedient-Electronics-Protest-201801081332c.pdf) like the wage gap between women and men, homophobia, racism, surveillance and privacy, human rights, economic disparity or climate change. Examples include DiSalvo’s concept of Adversarial Design, Oroza’s Technological Disobedience, Sengers’ Reflective Design, Ratto’s Critical Making, Wodiczko’s Interrogative Design, Lozano-Hemmer’s Perversion of Technological Correctness, Critical Art Ensemble’s approach to Tactical Media, or Flood & Grindon’s Disobedient Objects. [first step here is an overview of these ideas, next is to locate whether some/any of them are actually capable of critically approaching the critical making practice]

#litreview #queer #cyborg #gender

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elizabethrobertajones · 7 years

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Yesterday I finally caught up with probably half of Tumblr and finished watching Sense8 (*hugs my new Netflix account*)...

I really enjoyed it and I guess it lives up to the hype, though waiting forever to watch it kind of took the edge off, since I was curious enough to examine every gifset on my dash for the last... couple of years? since it appeared. I really like how everyone’s so in love with the characters and their dynamics that despite learning a great deal about almost every character and their relationships, I 1: didn’t even know Naveen Andrews was in it and 2: had no idea what the main plot was and assumed it was mostly just a great big action/romance romp with random soulmate dynamics thrown in to spice it up. :P

And it’s brilliant as a soap opera ignoring the main plot, as several characters have pretty much nothing to do with it (yet? I started off trying to analyse the plot and linked up Capheus, Kala and Sun as the most important players in an epic biomedical scandal involving the businesses and such they’re tied up in that must surely link further back to all the sinister stuff with the real bad guys, and then of course nothing’s come of that yet in a season + Christmas special...) and definitely one of its main strengths is the characters and their relationships and interactions, especially as with so many ways to sort them, and some plots with a lot of one on one cross over, characters you’d come to know and love were still meeting each other for the first time fairly late on.

Anyway, Daryl Hannah floating around being the fridged woman with a remarkable resemblance to Mary Winchester aside (I feel so sorry for actresses whose entire role is wearing a dirty/bloodstained nightgown while making spooky appearances for the sake of the main characters :P) the actual plot seems like Orphan Black in many respects, and the more I think about it the more connections I make, aside from the obvious of Weird Science bothering a group of seemingly normal people who then discover they’re actually clones/soulmates with a whole bunch of other people they have uncanny connections to. By the end of the current season of Orphan Black, our protagonist clone is even having sustained visions of the clone who started the series with the suicide of one of their own who, like Daryl Hannah, kicked off the entire plot for the main characters, and her daughter seems to be psychically connecting to the other clones through the same Weird Science as Sense8. There’s a strong focus on life and death and altogether too much childbirth stuff on screen :P

I think Sense8′s advantage is that it’s much less confined by the format not just that it can be absolutely openly as diverse as it wants to be, but because without having to be somewhat procedural or else fitting the regular format of TV shows, you can get the really long, weird sequences which aren’t really doing anything except quiet, meaningful stretches of character stuff. There are story arcs per episode, but the entire thing moves incredibly slowly. I swear Orphan Black made the same progress through the plot in a handful of episodes as Sense8 has done so far in its entire run.

Obviously neither show is finished yet, and in several important respects Sense8 blows Orphan Black out of the water, with OB being included in the great Onscreen Queer Women Massacre of the start of the year it only just bought my interest but not my trust back by backpeddaling that... and even if they always intended to bring said murdered queer woman back, they’ve not allowed the couple in question to just exist happily and unapologetically, and inflicted that trope on us in the first place... they also DID apologise while at the same time doing it, admitted they were aware they should use a trans actor to play a trans character but because of the clone thing, still used Tatiana to play a surprise brother clone they threw in for one episode basically, I guess, to show something about variation etc, and at this point I don’t know if it’s for the best he’s not in a ton of episodes, although weird they never mention him again after that.

Sense8 has a much clearer sense of these issues, though its attempt to portray a broad stroke of human existence world wide has netted it a lot of criticism for stereotyping & racist tropes in those portrayals, which I’m not equipped to comment on, but as someone who wearily watches a lot of media, certainly none of the non-western, white, stories felt particularly unexpected or not like something I could see elsewhere... Orphan Black has mostly stayed clear of those issues by just not going near them; the actual cast when you narrow it down away from the character list is still very white. Throw in the dozens of versions of Tatiana and the other clone guy and they’ve got endless room to add in as many more characters as they like, obviously all versions of the same white actors dressed up differently.

... in any case, Sense8′s plot gave me a fair amount of deja vu to the show I’d already watched, but because OB put me off several times (and yet I kept coming back to it :P) I don’t have a very clear memory of the first season’s plot to make a stronger side by side comparison. I’m mostly intrigued by the sense of the huge terrifying rich biotech and medical corporations, doing Weird Science juuust beyond the range of what we can understand now, or with a slight science-fantasy element to it, relying on real world conspiracies or Fortean Times level suspicions of what might possibly be real if you wanted to believe tales of precognition, telepathy, etc. In Sense8 there’s a few mentions of ~real~ stories of such things, but I can’t remember if OB went over it yet.

Certainly in both there’s a sense of unity and impossible but unbreakable family bonds, and a lot of exploration of who the Self is vs these huge faceless corporations. OB cycles through several villains or weird cults and such as the bad guys, each one in turn unknowable but powerful or embedded in a way with science or military or religious connections that make them dangerous to go up against. It’s hard to tell exactly what message Sense8 has about it because so much less plot involving it has unfurled but it’s obviously not good news with the big corporations, definitions of humanity, and secret conspiracy to police what is human and what is not. It even sets the entire viewing audience against the Sensates as part of a mass of non-sensate people who lack the emotional connection and empathy to feel like they do, implying the whole lot of us are murderous and cold as a result... In this way the evil scientists out to get them are only the very personal version of ALL the struggles they face, represented by that moment in the Xmas special where they all see the writing on the wall at Lito’s house transform into the worst things they have been called.

It takes a much colder view of humanity, making it us or them, and for us, switching which of those groups we identify with by way of sympathy to the main characters. OB is less personal in that way but focuses on the dangers of science trying to create a better human, and while the clones are supposedly all “improved” humans, they have enough flaws, physically and emotionally (although yikes, Krystal makes me sure they have latent super soldier genes none of the others have properly unlocked except maybe the unkillable Helena :P) that they don’t come across as totally othered for more than the unfortunate circumstances of their births they obviously didn’t ask for. Rachel as the only one raised in the know ends up the most dangerous of them all, perhaps for having her sense of humanity denied to her and knowing for most of her life that she was only an experiment and property of the company. What makes the rest of humans human isn’t in question so much as how much the clones might belong with humanity, and that they could grow up oblivious and fit in emotionally, and still have human values even when they discover they’re “only” property and experimental prototypes who’ve been living almost Truman show lives. In that respect, Sarah as the narrator is the most free and human because she was raised outside of the program with no influence from it whatsoever - narratively it’s not coincidental that she and Helena are also the only clones who are fertile and can have children.

... I’ve been making connections all day but this post is really long now so I’m going to stop here. I want to rewatch Orphan Black now, since I noticed it on the Netflix menu and I’m having a bit of a cackling wildly, world at my fingertips moment here. :P

#...#long post for ts #really long post #I really hope that mobile user thing isn't still true #I thought it was only when viewing blogs directly instead of on the dash #okay that's all the tag padding :P #sense8 #orphan black #just some thoughts comparing them at great length #I really want to analyse the ethics they're trying to convey better but I need to A: rewatch orphan black and B: wait for season 2 of Sense8

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