#everyone else gets to be stupid on the internet

[mayedays]

At the risk of sounding deranged again...

Because my brain hates me, I occasionally get hit particularly hard by The Paranoia™ that the people saying ~the Darkling is basically Hitler~ are interpreting authorial intent correctly and that Bardugo might literally think it appropriate to base the Grisha on the Jewish Scientists who fled to America in the era around WWII and base their leader on Hitler (or Stalin).

However, I've come to some conclusions surrounding this.

(1) regardless of her opinion, I think that its deeply NOT okay, and don't think I'm insane for holding that viewpoint no matter what The Paranoia™ says (although I'm frustrated that I don't know that I have a logical justification for the viewpoint, but on the other hand, I'm not sure that I should have to),

(2) if Leigh disagrees with me on that front (i.e. he is supposed to be Grishaverse!Hitler), she certainly has a right to do so, but I have an equivalent right to decide that I don't respect the judgment (artistic or otherwise) of anyone who would consider that a reasonable thing to do, and so I don't actually care if she did mean for him to be Grishaverse!Hitler, and

(3) arguing he's Hitler is fucking stupid and insensitive because the thing that sets Hitler apart from other tyrants/dictators/facists/etc is the massive industrialized genocide he committed against two vulnerable ethnic minorities (who had a long history of being horrifically mistreated by the ethnic majority) and not only does Aleksander not do anything like that, he is part of a historically-vulnerable (although not ethnic) minority (Hitler was not--anyone saying otherwise has swallowed some rancid & bizarre Nazi propaganda). It's clearly canon that he's a mass murderer and was long before the start of TGT but there's no evidence of deliberate systemic persecution, let alone systematic genocide, of a vulnerable minority demographic to destroy them as a people (at least not on his end, Fjerda is another story). I'm pretty sure that bombing a city is only genocide if its part of a project to destroy an ethnic or national group. (I'm not going to try to claim that he would never commit genocide--its debatable but not something I'm all that interested in seriously litigating--only that I don't think he actually does.) Its insensitive because, leaving aside for the moment if its possible to compare a fictional person to a real-life war criminal without being insensitive, by comparing a character which does not preside over death camps to a real person who definitely did...it treats the Holocaust (& the specific form it took) as dismissible and unimportant.

But having said all that...I don't feel like I have a very good rational explanation for why its beyond the pale to base the Grisha on the Jewish scientists of WWII while also basing their historic leader on Hitler. I just basically have a disgust-based argument, which leaves me kinda dissatisfied because I feel like if I'm right I should be able to construct a logical one...but its slippery like an eel and squirms away every time I try.

[maeamian]

Actually research skills are hard to learn especially unsupervised so maybe telling people to just "Go figure it out" especially if you already know they've been failed academically in other ways, might actually be a great way to just send them to a PragerU video on the topic.

[aquamaggot]

hate when people say "i miss the old internet..." boy how do you miss something you werent even there to see.

[ersatz-introspective]

bcs i'm aware of how i automatically percieve people, i earnestly try to give the benefit of the doubt a lot. i tend to believe people are Actually Just That Dumb™ when they're joking about something, so i try to get ahead of that & tell myself people are joking when they say something stupid, so that i don't look stupid

all i've learnt in doing that, is most of the time, people aren't joking. they actually did mean what they say, & i made the situation 10× worse by laughing at what they said.

not only does it reinforce the idea in my head that people are Dumb so i need to take the reins on literally Everything, but it also leads people to believe i'm making fun of them for saying something silly & talking to me less, when, if i knew it were a genuine thing they thought, i would have gladly explained it without judgement

but i don't really know how to stop treating them as jokes, because what if they ARE joking so they laugh at me for how Stupid i am for taking the bait? i can't handle being made a fool of, i think i'd rather die

[kotoneshiomiofficial]

i just think its interesting that the exact same blog made two posts one of which saying "no one is perfect, everyone's going to hurt someone on accident at some point and this isnt an excuse to stop trying or stop trusting" but the other saying "i hate disabled people who use their diagnoses as an excuse to be assholes". like yeah everyone should be given grace and forgiveness unless you have a disability and/or mental health condition that makes it difficult for you to socialize with others. then youre actually being intentionally malicious and using your disability as cover. which is the exact same excuse parents use to beat autistic children but apparently that passes as leftist progressive ideals on tumblr.

it just goes to show that a very large amount of people (online and in person) truly only care about looking good and not being good. if you actually believed the former you never would have said the latter. and if youre making up hypothetical disabled strawmen to get mad at then that makes you an ableist straight up

[lunar-wandering]

head hurty

[lathargicrabbitfish]

Jus found out whenever you like or follow someone on here it comes up as ur main profile, and to change your main profile, im goinf to have to read alot…. im going toHANG MYSELFG. IS ALL WE DO IN LIFE TO SUFFER???

[whoviandoodler]

you ever go into a tag for a show or whatever and find several painstakingly created gif sets from interviews with the actors where they're just like. fully mocking fans? talking about them like they're the most despicable thing on this earth kind of bitter mocking. and on the one hand you're like, okay, i get it, fans can really be shit and get overly parasocial and think you owe them something beyond the work you created but on the other it's like. bro this makes me not want to engage with anything you do at all. ever. you don't have to sing your fans praises but you can do them the basic courtesy of professionalism and not ridiculing the entirety of everyone who both engages with your creative work and whose interest ultimately results in your paycheck.

[thrilling-oneway]

Also shout out to the person who said in the tags of that airi post who said that half the debates in this fandom are over gender or sexuality because that’s true and it pisses me off immensely

[asahiminato]

Several things about the **** and **** drama is how many people have hopped out to go omg so is the lady we have decided is the only big bad villain responsible for planting all of the hate against insert group/idol here when I watched in real time for all of those examples their own fans jumping on their favorite idols for things that were clearly just scraps of bad rumors they just completely made overblown THEMSELVES under the guise of trying to look 'critical about their faves'

[fappellmoan]

cocaine bear 2.8 stars on letterboxd??? jesus christ you people hate fun...

[idiomagic]

Things I Have Learned By Somehow Surviving To 55 Years Old -- It is actually ridiculously easy to say 'I'm sorry'. Doubling down in a panic, trying to prove you're 'right', loses you friends and makes everything worse, every time. -- Life goes by in the blink of an eye. Don't waste your time on stupid bullshit. Discourse, internet arguments, fighting over useless details... are just going to roil you up, make you miserable, and that time can be better spent doing anything else. -- There is no One True Way. If you're convinced that your 'praxis' or whatever is the only correct one, that your view is the only correct one, that your belief is the only correct one, only one thing is guaranteed: you are absolutely wrong. If you find yourself being smug and patting yourself on the back that you are the Only Smart and Correct Person on the internet, you are embarrassingly wrong...and everyone else knows it. -- It is never too late. It's never too late to change careers, go back to school, transition, change your beliefs, change yourself. You don't have to live like this, you don't have to think like this, you don't have to be like this. It's not too late to change. -- Life happens offline. The internet is for fucking around while you're in between real life stuff. The world of the internet is not real, it's not real life, and if your only life is online, you really need to log off, leave your phone behind, and go out into the world. Interact with real people, in real situations, without a keyboard.

-- You learn way more by listening than by talking, and people will respect you more when you do have something to say. -- You need to get out of your online bubbles and talk to people who do not share your beliefs. Tumblr gives you the impression that you are the majority, that everyone believes what you do, thinks like you do, has the same outlook on life that you do. And that is far from the truth. For example: 98% of the country is cis and heterosexual. The vast majority of people do not have fandoms. The majority of humanity cares more about what you do than whether or not you use the 'correct' terminology. -- There is always hope. No matter how bleak the world seems right now, we have made staggering amounts of progress just in my lifetime. But we've done it by showing up, by voting, by acting. Progress happens in meat space, not through discourse. Online activism isn't activism. It's the prelude to activism. If you want change, you have to put down your screens, get out in the world, and make it happen. -- The sexiest thing any human being can do is to learn, to grow, and to be able to say 'I was wrong. I've learned more now, and I'm going to do better.' -- Finding love, in any form, is the barest beginning of what a relationship is. If you want to keep that love, you have to work for it, every day. And every party to that love has to do the work. If your partner/partners/friends don't work to make the relationship strong, it's not love and it will never be healthy. -- The only limit to who you can be and what you can be is you. You can't change your physical limits, but you can always decide that you will learn, that you will change, that you will grow. You can always be more than you are right now, bigger than you are right now. No one and nothing can stop you from that, except you. https://ko-fi.com/idiomagic

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Actually, I think this does link in with a wider conversation that I have been thinking for a while Tumblr maybe needs to hear.

There's a common meme on this site now that no one here has any reading comprehension skills. The best one is, of course, the original "No offense but reading comprehension on this site is piss poor/How dare you say we piss on the poor" post, which gave rise to the nickname "pissing-on-the-poor website". There's also the "I like pancakes/How dare you say waffles are terrible" one. Both of these are great, because they're silly jokey ways to show two closely related phenomena that are probably the commonest ways to fail a reading comprehension check.

The first is someone reading certain catchphrases or buzzwords in the post, and based on their own biases or prior experiences or whatever else, their brain simply fills in what it reckons the poster is saying on the topic. Instead of reading the rest of the sentence and digesting it, the reader then just uses their assumption as the interpretation, and reacts to that.

The second is closely related, because it also uses biases and prior experiences to to interpret the post, but rather than ignoring what the OP is actually saying, it instead performs a series of gymnastic leaps to construct a whole new assertion on the OP's behalf that simply isn't there.

There's also a third, of course; that one is people being so eager to feel smug and superior over someone they perceive as Bad that they wilfully assume the OP is stupid or being serious when they're actually joking. And if the reader hadn't been so blinded by their desire to get to look down on someone, they'd have seen the very obvious tells, sometimes even including sentences like "Obviously this is a joke." (I think we have all seen examples of these. Also, in a bid to avoid as many reading comprehension fails here as possible, this does not include misunderstandings borne entirely of neurodiverse struggles to parse intentions; but, neurodiverse people are just as likely as neurotypicals to have ego play a part in their misinterpretation of others, and that is what this point is about.)

And the thing is... actually, we are all capable of any of these. I imagine a sizable chunk of people reading until this point were probably thinking "Lol, yeah, people are so stupid," but na, nage, I'm not having that. Literally everyone does these sometimes. And it becomes a particular risk when the topic under discussion is something that might brush against an issue that is a pressure point for you, like a social justice talking point that you are forever having to argue with internet strangers about, for example. Your brain holds schemas! And sometimes it likes to pattern match things before it deigns to tell you about its findings! And that can hit you right in the emotions, which if they are strong enough, really can shut down all rational thought.

But. This brings me to the real point of the post.

Because the thing is, we have all saddled up and gone to war under these conditions, or at the very least been strongly tempted to. And a vital skill that literally everyone has to learn, sooner or later, is:

Before you hit 'reply', double check the post to make sure you fucking understood it.

And that does not mean "simply re-read, confirm your bias, carry on." It means, "Is it possible to read this post from the point of view of someone who doesn't intend it the way I've taken it? If I put myself in the shoes of an innocent, could they still have written these words? Is there another interpretation for these phrases?"

And you do have to do this step. You simply do have to. Because if your desire is to 'clap back' and call someone a gargling knobskin made of garbage, fuck me sideways but you must see that it is imperative that you check if they actually deserve that kind of treatment first. You cannot spend your time claiming that we must all choose to be kind and then not bother doing your due diligence before screaming a person's various and assorted bigotries at them. If you misread it, and they were innocent - you are the raging aggressive cunt in this situation.

It does not matter that you reacted from an emotional place of normally having to defend yourself either, by the way. Sure, that makes the quality of your human soul better than that of the average Redditor who just enjoys anonymously hurting people, I guess? But it's also irrelevant. If you messaged someone and called them a misogynist because you performed several mental somersaults and landed on your own sore spot when they meant no such thing, you are the attacker. You owe them an apology. And yeah, sure, you can explain your over-reaction as the product of your normal experiences if you like, but that is only an explanation, not an excuse. You are still the asshole here. You still need to apologise and mean it.

And you could have avoided it if you'd done that due diligence, as you should have. If you're going to take a swing, make sure it's the right target. This was once described to me as donkey people - they don't think, they just kick. This is admittedly a little unkind to donkeys, who always do their due diligence, but I feel it's an apt metaphor.

TL;DR: If you feel moved to angrily reply to something, first make sure you've interpreted it right. Don't be a donkey person. And if you ask for clarification, people are innocent until proven guilty. Ask nicely. If they are a bigot, you can then smelt them for parts.

[sunshinesfreckless]

Freaky on Camera

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Idol!Felix x Stay!Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

Summary: Felix just can‘t resist the urge to use the Talker Camera for something else….

Warnings: Oral (M receiving), Sextape filming ….(?)

A/N: I did not proofread this ….. blame it on the european heatwave…. also this was always a guilty pleasure kink of mine lol.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

He was supposed to film a Vlog. Just one goddamn vlog.

Today was his day with the SKZ Talker camera — the vlog camera. His job was to show Stay what a day on tour looked like through his eyes. Sweet. Innocent. Wholesome. That was the brief.

But there was one problem.

Felix’s girlfriend in the morning light.

It had started off normally. Sort of.

He rolled over, groggy, muttering into the mic, “Morning, Stay,” and reached for the camera on the nightstand with one hand, the other gently nudging the warm body next to him.

“Baby, wake up,” he whispered, camera tilted so only his face was in frame.

She groaned and buried her face deeper into the pillow. “I���m not here. I don’t exist.”

Felix laughed softly, still recording. “I have to film, angel. Be good.”

With a dramatic sigh, Y/N sat up slowly — almost teasingly — and knelt on the mattress, her hair a sleepy halo, her thin, see-through nightgown definitely not part of the PG-rated plan. The fabric clung to her body in all the right places. Her nipples pressed against the material, unbothered by modesty or the camera aimed just inches away.

Felix’s eyes dropped instantly. He was a man after all. A stupid, horny, tragically obsessed man.

“Stop staring, you freak,” Y/N giggled and slapped his arm, before jumping out of bed and disappearing into the corner — giving him space to pretend he was waking up alone for the vlog.

He cleared his throat. “Okay Stay, tour day routine! Let’s get ready together,” he chirped into the camera like a liar.

────୨ৎ────

In the bathroom, while brushing his teeth and pretending not to exist in a constant state of sexual frustration, Felix made sure to angle the camera away from her makeup bag and toothbrush. He always did. It was their secret. The world didn’t know about her, and somehow, that made it hotter.

When he came out freshly showered, towel slung around his neck, Y/N was back in bed, scrolling her phone. He knew what she was doing. Running her private fan account. The biggest, most active Felix fanpage on the internet. She’d had it for years — long before they ever got together.

Now she just happened to have exclusive content no one else did.

He’d even started sending her unseen selfies on purpose. Blurry mirror pics, candid shots from his phone, shirtless clips that would “accidentally” leak only on her page. Stay loved it. Thought she had inside connections. And she did — all ten inches of them, to be exact.

Felix adjusted himself discreetly behind the camera.

He should not be turned on right now.

But when he saw her — legs spread, nightgown barely covering anything, one hand scrolling and the other resting between her thighs like she knew what she was doing — he had an idea.

And it was not vlog-appropriate.

He blinked. “Focus, Lix. Tour day. Breakfast. Hotel gym. Fanservice. Not… sex tape.”

His grip tightened on the camera.

────୨ৎ────

Later, backstage, he kept filming. He did his job. Mostly.

Y/N walked past him in a black staff hoodie, head down, lanyard around her neck to make it official. No one would question her. Just another crew member. That fuckass miniskirt…. he should be a stricter Boyfriend…..

His cock twitched in his pants. Behave, he told himself.

He panned the camera to the snack table, then to the guys warming up. Everyone looked normal. Professional. Focused.

Meanwhile, all he could think about was bending her over one of the dressing room counters, camera still rolling — for no one but them.

“Bro,” Chan clapped him on the back. “You good?”

Felix smiled like a lunatic. “Yeah. Just… thinking about shots.”

He meant camera shots. Probably.

────୨ৎ────

It was post-concert chaos, but Felix made it look peaceful on the vlog.

He filmed the quiet hotel room, the messy coffee table, the pizza box open with slices half-eaten, and himself sitting on the Armchair. “Okay, Stay, i ordered food—cheese crust, of course—and I’m finally relaxing after a long day.”

What he didn’t show was his girlfriend sitting just out of frame. Legs folded, perched on the sofa like a pretty little devil. Grease-kissed lips parted around a slice of pizza she clearly didn’t care about. She wasn’t even looking at it anymore.

She was looking at him.

More specifically, at the thick outline pushing against the front of his sweatpants.

Felix didn’t look at her. Not right away. He focused on Stay. On the camera. On doing his job.

But when he leaned back, one hand propped on the Armrest, his legs spread a little wider and the damn sweatpants rode up higher on his thighs… he felt it.

Her stare. Hot. Desperate. Dirty.

From her angle on the couch, she could definitely tell he wasn’t wearing boxers.

Felix shifted, pretending to read comments off the screen. “You guys always ask what we do after shows… Honestly, we just chill. I eat. Hydrate. Rest.” He took a bite of crust, chewed thoughtfully. “Nothing crazy.”

Liar.

Because she was still staring.

Not at the food. Not at his face.

At his cock.

She blinked slowly, then took another bite of her slice. Lazy. Almost mocking. Like she was buying time before making a decision she already knew she’d make.

And Felix?

Felix felt it in his bones. The moment she hit that state. Her cock-hungry switch had flipped. He could read her better than any script. Her posture changed — thighs tightening, mouth slack with anticipation. Like she’d forgotten what pizza even was.

Her hand rested on her lap. Fingers twitching.

He didn’t need confirmation.

But she gave it to him anyway — when they finally locked eyes.

Like a silent standoff. Like a dare.

And then he did it.

He tilted his head, set the crust down slowly, and said in that voice — that low, graveled, voice “If you wanna suck my cock, you’ll have to let me film it.” Her breath hitched audibly. She froze — slice halfway to her mouth — and blinked like she couldn’t believe he said it out loud. But her thighs clenched together like she’d been waiting for permission to fall apart. The pizza hit the plate with a soft plop. Forgotten. Felix leaned back in the armchair, spreading his legs wider, letting the gray cotton stretch over his erection in full view now. He grabbed the vlog camera — not the phone — the fucking SKZ Talker cam — and flipped the screen so he could frame her perfectly. He didn’t even need to direct her. She moved. Crawled off the sofa slowly, deliberately. Like a starved thing. Like she wanted the taste of him more than she wanted to breathe. Her mini skirt rode up as she moved. The SKZ merch hoodie she wore during their performance hung loosely off one shoulder. She looked like a deranged fangirl ready to ruin her idol backstage — and he loved it.

“Please film it,” she whispered, voice already shaky, already gone.

Felix hummed in approval, camera in hand. “That’s my good girl.”

She placed her hands on his thighs, ran them upward, slow like worship. Her nails grazed the edge of his pants and he twitched beneath her touch.

“God, I love your cock,” she mumbled, kissing the fabric above his length. “I love it so much…” The camera whirred softly in his grip. He grinned.

“Show Stay what a good little fan you are,” he whispered. “Let’s give them real content.”

Felix could see himself on the little flip screen.

He pulled his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock — flushed, aching, resting heavy against his stomach. His hand gripped the SKZ Talker camera tight, trained on the image in front of him.

She looked so fucking innocent. Wide-eyed. Flushed. But her eyes were already glazed over with that filthy hunger he knew too well. Her tongue peeked out, wetting her lips, and she stared — not at his face, not at the camera, but at his cock like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

And it was. To her, it was.

“Do you even realize how dangerous this is?” Felix murmured, angling the camera down to frame her pretty little face just right. “What if someone finds the footage? What if this ends up somewhere it shouldn’t?”

Her hands slid up his thighs. “Then maybe they’ll see how much I love you,” she whispered, licking her lips slowly. “Maybe they’ll see how obsessed I am with your cock. Maybe they’ll understand why I’d ruin your career just to taste it.”

Felix hissed. “Fuck.”

The camera caught everything. The glint in her eye. The outline of his cock. Her nails dragging up the meat of his thighs. Her skirt had ridden up completely now, but she didn’t fix it. She wanted to be filmed like this — raw, ruined, owned.

“You like the idea of someone finding this?” he asked, voice low, mocking, almost amused.

“I like the idea of being your dirty little secret,” she said sweetly. “I like the idea that you’re famous. Loved by millions. Worshipped by Stays. And I’m the one who gets this.” She leaned forward, tongue dragging up his shaft slowly, leaving a hot, wet trail. “I’m the one who gets you.”

Felix’s abs tensed. He adjusted the camera with one hand, the other gripping the edge of the armchair so hard his knuckles went white.

“You’re sick, baby,” he breathed. “Fucking sick.”

“You like it,” she whispered. “You like me cock-hungry. On my knees in your merch. You love it.”

His cock twitched violently against her tongue.

“I should be deleting this,” he muttered, eyes flicking to the screen. “If anyone sees this—if this gets leaked—I’m dead.”

“But you won’t delete it,” she said, kissing the head of his cock, tongue teasing his slit. “You’ll keep it. Watch it when you miss me. Maybe jerk off to it in the hotel bathroom when you’re on tour alone. Because you love how I worship you.”

He growled. Actually growled.

“I do. Fuck, I do.”

The camera tilted a little, just enough to catch her licking the underside again, hands squeezing the base now. He was rock hard. Dripping.

“You make me insane,” Felix said. “My sweet little Stay. My biggest fan. My girlfriend who’d destroy me just to get her mouth on my cock.”

“I would,” she whispered. “I’d burn the world for this.”

Felix chuckled, cock twitching. “Yeah, I know, angel. That’s why you run that account, right? Post all my pictures, call me pretty, write all those dirty captions?”

She moaned.

Her hands were gentle, reverent. Her thumb brushed the slit. She looked up through her lashes, eyes already begging for more.

“Fucking hell,” Felix whispered. “You love my cock, huh?”

She nodded, lips brushing the tip. “So much. You don’t even get it, Lix. I think about it all the time. When you’re gone. When I see pictures. When you’re on stage—” she kissed the head, “—I imagine it in my mouth. I swear to God.”

Felix groaned low in his throat. “Say it.”

“I’m obsessed with your cock.” Another kiss. “I want it every day.” She licked him again, slowly, letting the tip of her tongue swirl around the crown. “I’d give up everything just to taste it.”

His hand threaded into her hair, tightening a little — not to control, but to feel her. “God, I love you like this.”

She wrapped her lips around the head. Sucked. Gently. Eyes locked on his.

He let out a guttural moan. The camera caught everything — her wet lips, her slow descent, the stretch of her cheeks, his abs flexing.

“Oh my God,” he exhaled. “You look so fucking pretty like this, baby. My good little Stay. Doing such a good job for me.”

She hummed around him, gagging a little as she took more. Her hands were on his thighs, steadying herself. Her mascara was already starting to smudge.

“Choke on it for me, love,” Felix whispered, angling the camera just a little lower to catch the full image of her flushed cheeks and ruined lips wrapped around his cock. “Show me how much you need it.”

Y/N obeyed like she was born for it.

She picked up the rhythm, bobbing her head faster, letting her trained mouth take over. Her hand slid to the base, squeezing in tandem with her lips, and her other hand reached lower—gently cupping his balls, massaging them like she knew exactly what he liked.

Because she did.

He had taught her. Every technique. Every motion. Every little sound that drove him crazy.

And now? She was a fucking expert.

Spit poured from her lips, dribbling down his shaft, her chin wet and messy. Every time she gagged, she moaned. Like choking on him was a gift she was grateful for.

Her nails dug into his thighs for leverage. He flexed under her grip, watching her in the screen — the way her throat bulged every time she pushed further, the tears collecting at the corners of her eyes, the mascara streaking beautifully down her cheeks.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “Look at you. That’s it. That’s my good fucking girl.”

Her eyes rolled back slightly as she took him deeper, lips stretched to the limit, her jaw aching but not once slowing down. His cock disappeared into her throat like it belonged there — like she’d trained herself for this exact moment.

She had.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “Don’t stop. I want Stay to see what you do for me. You’re so cock-drunk, baby. So fucking obsessed.”

She moaned around him — a trembling, desperate sound that vibrated down his shaft.

“You love this, huh? Love gagging on my cock? Getting messy for the camera?”

Her mouth popped off with a wet gasp, a thick string of saliva connecting her lips to his cock. She stared up at him, face flushed, eyes wild.“I want you to cum in my mouth. Please. Please, Felix. I need it. I fucking need it.” He nearly dropped the camera. His hips twitched. “You want to taste it, baby?” She nodded so fast it looked frantic. “I want all of it. I want you in my throat. I want it warm. I want to swallow everything, Lix, please—” He growled, full chest, deep and brutal. “Then take it,” he snarled. “Take my fucking cum. Be the perfect little fan you are.” She devoured him. Back down she went, deeper than ever before, her nose pressing into his pelvis, throat clenching around him like she’d die if she didn’t have him down to the base. Her hand kept working his balls, massaging, rolling, coaxing the orgasm out of him like a professional. Like a devoted, desperate girl on a mission. Felix’s moans got louder, the muscles in his thighs clenching. The camera trembled in his hand. “Oh my God, you’re gonna make me—fuck, Y/N —yes—” He spilled into her mouth with a broken sound, head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut. His legs tensed, his breath catching, and his fingers gripped her hair like an anchor.

And she took it. Every drop.

Her throat moved as she swallowed, sucking him through it, not stopping, not letting go until he hissed from overstimulation.

“Baby—ah, fuck—wait,” he gasped, head dropping back, legs twitching. “S’too much—please…”

Y/N finally pulled off with a loud, wet pop, her mouth red and swollen, spit and cum shining on her chin.

He looked down at her. She pouted. Like she wanted to keep him in her mouth forever.

He laughed breathlessly, shaky and wrecked. “You’re pouting because I told you to stop?”

She leaned back on her heels, panting. Her SKZ hoodie had slipped off her shoulder completely now. Her tiny miniskirt was bunched around her waist, panties soaked through with a dark wet patch that made Felix’s eyes widen.

“Oh my God,” he muttered, angling the camera back down at her ruined form. “Look at you, baby. Fucking hell.”

Her mascara was streaked. Her lips were parted. Her thighs were trembling. And she was smiling.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, voice soft again. “Like, ever. No one’s ever looked hotter sucking cock.”

She laughed, weakly. “Yours is the only one I’d ever do this for.”

He turned the camera back to her face, giving her a wink.

“Lucky me,” he said.

Then he slowly reached forward… and clicked the record button off.

Silence.

The mood shifted. Softer. More real. He set the camera aside and opened his arms. “C’mere.”

Y/N crawled into his lap, curling up against him, the oversized hoodie covering her again as he tucked her head under his chin. He stroked her back gently, kissing the top of her head, holding her like he’d never let go.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded against him. “More than okay. That was… so hot.”

He smiled. “You’re insane. Like, actually insane. But I’m obsessed with you.”

“Promise me no one will ever see that video,” she whispered.

Felix pressed his lips to her temple. “I promise. I’ll keep it safe. Password protected, double backed up. Hidden folder. You know I’d never let anyone see you like that.”

“…But you will watch it again, won’t you?” she teased.

He smirked. “Every fucking night.”

────୨ৎ────

“Yo, Lix,” Chan said casually, passing by in the hallway with a laptop under one arm. “Grabbing the vlog cam to dump the footage for SKZ Talker, cool?”

Felix, sprawled on the couch, texting Y/N something probably disgusting, didn’t even look up.

“Yeah, sure. All yours.”

That was his mistake.

Fifteen minutes later, the walls shook.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

A scream erupted from down the hall — bloodcurdling, soul-crushing, trauma-inducing.

Felix flinched so hard his phone flew out of his hand and hit the wall.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL—FUCKING—HELL—IS THIS?!”

Chan’s voice boomed through the corridor like God himself had witnessed sin.

Felix went white. Time stopped.

No. No. No. No no no no no—

He bolted.

Sprinted barefoot down the hallway like he was being chased by death itself.

“CHAN, DON’T WATCH THAT!”

“TOO LATE!”

“OH MY GOD PLEASE DELETE IT, I’M BEGGING YOU—”

“WHY WOULD YOU—ON THE SKZ TALKER CAMERA, FELIX??”

“I THOUGHT I DELETED IT!”

“YOU LITERALLY NARRATED THE WHOLE THING—YOU CALLED HER A ‘GOOD LITTLE STAY’?!”

The door slammed open.

Felix lunged into the room, tackled the laptop with a guttural yell, while Chan held it above his head like a schoolyard bully.

“STOP—THIS IS MY CAREER, BRO!” Felix shouted, trying to climb him like a tree.

“I SAW YOUR BALLS, FELIX!”

From the hallway:

“What the hell’s going on?”

“Hyung, did someone die?”

“Did Lix cry again?”

Han popped his head in and paused. “…Is that your dick on the screen?”

Felix shrieked.

“CLOSE THE LAPTOP, HAN, GET OUT, DON’T LOOK AT ME—”

Too late.

Han tilted his head. “Huh. That’s not what I imagined. It’s kinda… elegant?”

Felix looked like he was about to pass out.

And then—

One by one.

The rest of the members flooded the room.

Seungmin peeked over Han’s shoulder and snorted. “Yep. Knew it. I guessed all of your inches once…..”

Hyunjin came in, chewing gum, completely unbothered. “Damn,” he said, crossing his arms. “Okay, real question—what’s your shave routine? Your balls are like… smooth.”

Felix let out a noise.

“WHY IS EVERYONE COMMENTING ON MY DICK?!”

Lee Know poked his head in and immediately walked back out. “Nope. Not doing this.”

Changbin burst out laughing and pointed at Chan. “Bro, are you crying?!”

Chan, face in hands, voice shaking: “I JUST WANTED TO SEE A VLOG, NOT A FULL 4K DEEPTHROAT MONTAGE—”

“IT WAS HORNY DECISION” Felix cried.

“You used the company camera!” Chan wailed.

“You left it in the final cut folder!” Seungmin shouted, nearly dying of laughter.

“Are there more?” Han asked. “Like… full length ones?”

“GET OUT,” Felix snapped.

“Did you film your shaving routine too…? ” Hyunjin asked casually. “Because like, if I could get that same razor—”

“I SWEAR TO GOD.”

Felix dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands.

Chan curled into a ball on the bed. Han was still squinting at the paused frame like he was inspecting art.

And Hyunjin?

Hyunjin walked out, mumbling,

“I just wanna know how he got that lighting. Like the dick glowed.”

[inkskinned]

no, actually, where is the whimsy?

my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?

we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.

earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.

i stared at my ex. he stared at me.

his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!

it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.

and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.

my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.

which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.

but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.

the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.

so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.

and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.

where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.

it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.

this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.

[sunsetdesire]

wow some of y'all are so stupid it's painful