Ten  minutes  into  the  break,  silence  had  settled,  broken  only  by  their  slowing  breaths.  Hwan  had  pushed  off  the  floor,  walking  to  the  wall  of  mirrors  to  check  the  angle  of  his  shoulder  in  a  particular  move.  Junha  had  followed,  standing  behind  him,  their  reflections  ghostly  in  the  dimmed  lights.  It  was  just  the  brush  of  his  loose  training  pants  against  her  leggings,  but  it  felt  like  a  live  current  connecting  them.  Hwan’s  breath  hitched.  Then  she  began  to  move.  It  was  slow,  a  subtle  rock  of  her  hips  that  pressed  her  pelvis  against  his.  The  pressure  was  immediate,  incendiary.  Hwan  groaned,  his  hands  flying  to  her  shoulders,  gripping  the  damp  fabric  there.  He  mirrored  her  movement,  pushing  back  against  that  gentle,  insistent  pressure. 

They  were  grinding  through  their  clothes,  a  desperate,  clumsy  simulation  that  felt  more  real  than  any  fully  naked  encounter  he  could  remember.  The  layers  of  fabric  became  a  torment,  a  barrier  that  inflamed  the  need  rather  than  dampened  it.  Each  rub  sent  vibrations  through  his  core,  straight  to  his  cock,  which  was  already  hard  and  straining  against  his  pants.  Her  neck  was  being  exposed  again.  Hwan’s  vampire  instinct  surged,  a  dual  craving,  to  bite,  and  to  kiss. 

He   lay   sprawled   across   his   couch,   eyes   half-closed   against   the   glow   of   his   phone   screen,   the   mundane   scrolling   of   social   media   a   weak   distraction   from   the   restless   energy   coiled   inside   him.   It   was   a   typical   Friday   night,   if   only   he   could   ignore   the   enticing   view   by   his   side.   One   leg   was   bent,   the   other   stretched   out,   the   lace   of   her   panties   stark   against   the   pale   skin   of   her   inner   thigh   in   the   low   light.   Her   camisole   had   shifted,   pulling   taut   across   one   breast,   revealing   more   of   its   shape.   Jinu   knows   they   been   playing   the   part   and   the   push   and   pull   for   the   camaras   and   the   fans;   but   he   had   not   been   blind   about   the   lingering   touches   and   stares.   He   indulges   in   them   at   times,   letting   his   hands   reach   for   her   back   when   they   hadn't.   Logic   tells   him   to   tell   her   to   leave   but,   he   was   never   one   too   fond   of   logic.

sunhee breathes it against junha's lips, the movement of her fingers remaining achingly slow as they work against the other's clit. she's 𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 with the vampire - trying to see just how long junha can handle the slow patterns of her hand as she drags her fingers lower.

❝you are so beautiful.❞

the tip of a single finger teases around junha's entrance, applying just enough pressure to be 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓. sunhee watches the other's features for just a second longer before she brings herself closer, taking junha's bottom lip between her teeth.

they aren't 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏, but she presses them into junha's lip all the same - she tugs gently before soothing with her tongue, catching them both in a slow kiss that leaves sunhee unable to hold back the whine that echoes in her throat.

teasing is becoming increasingly difficult.

Instead I have started seeing an influx of absolute clownery. I said I find incest content weird and gross a few weeks ago as -- hysterical given the rest of this story -- an explanation of how I can express that without making a judgment call on people who write or engage with it. That my personal boundary does not give me a right to judge other people for being comfortable with the content while at the same time I shouldn't have to air out personal trauma to have my boundary respected.

People got so mad about that I started wondering if the content was somehow strung into their identity that my discomfort was such a personal affront. And then it dawned on me: in current RPC climate they probably thought I had. I'm talking 'Oh so I'm weird and gross?' levels of pushback, and all I could think of as (unsent) reply was I Mean Do You Identify As Content I Think is Weird and Gross?

Like I get it, it sucks when you're excited about a genre or enthusiastic about a trope or narrative and someone comes along and says 'Yuck!' But that's not a personal attack on you unless they make it one. Someone saying 'I don't like hot dogs' as part of a conversation about lunch meat is not them coming to your Fourth of July barbecue and flipping over your grill as an act of protest. I don't come unglued when people don't like milves because one Kadi's wife is another person's mom and I need to stop trying to make them call me Dad, because it makes them uncomfortable.

I am tired. I don't condone censorship and think as long as there is no intent to harm through content that people have a right to express themselves, so clearly I have no morals and think everything should be legal in a real world context. I think people have a right to control their own online experience and block or blacklist content, so therefore I love censorship and think Fahrenheit 451 was ideal. Open your mouth about anything and someone is big mad.