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IsabellaRose

Platinum Dreamer
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Everything posted by IsabellaRose

  1. Can we move on to the comma?
  2. ...and when you're done voting, why not write an entry for the next challenge? Challenge 40 is LIVE!
  3. THE CHALLENGE Write something that involves as an important character or figure from a well-known fairy tale. It can be any character, any version of them (including your own take on them), from or in any culture, in any setting or time period... the only rule is that it must be a recognizable character from a well-known fairy tale. Deadline Midnight (EST) , 21 Jun 2025 Limits 1 entry per person no strict word limit, but please try to keep it around 2,000 words- remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits
  4. Polls are open to vote for your favorite entry in Writing Challenge 39! Poll is open until midnight 14 Jun 2025!
  5. Aurora & Iris At Home The city outside hummed quietly, distant tires against wet pavement, a siren that faded before it found them, the breath of wind through cracked windows. Inside, the apartment was dim and golden. Candles flickered in glass bowls. The stereo hummed with soft music: a female voice looping lyrics neither of them needed to understand. Their shared bed was a nest of colored sheets and strewn silks, pillows scattered like petals. Aurora was already curled at one end, her hair spilling in waves of honey and rose across the blanket. She looked like a half-finished painting, her chest rising slowly, eyes half-lidded but focused on Iris. "You always disappear when you get quiet," Aurora said. "Come back." Iris stood in the doorway, arms crossed, not from discomfort, but from the weight of whatever she was holding inside. She walked over slowly, barefoot, the hem of her nightgown brushing her calves like a soft kiss. "I was thinking," Iris said, her voice a low whisper. "About how it always felt like this. Like… it’s only ever been you and me." Aurora shifted to make space, but not much. She wanted to be touched, she wanted to touch, and Iris knew it. Iris climbed onto the bed and straddled Aurora's waist, leaning down to press their foreheads together, their noses touching. She could feel the heat of Aurora's breath on her lips, the quickening of her pulse as their bodies pressed together, the intense arousal building between them. Iris slid her hands up Aurora's sides, feeling the soft curves of her body, the warmth of her skin beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown. She leaned down and pressed soft kisses to Aurora's neck, her collarbone, her shoulders, her lips. She could feel Aurora's breath hitching, could feel her body arching up into hers, seeking more. She slid off of Aurora then and slipped into bed beside her, not shy, not deliberate, just inevitable. They faced each other, their knees touching beneath the covers, foreheads nearly aligned. The kind of closeness no one else ever reached. The kind of closeness they never questioned. Iris reached up, tucked a strand of red-gold hair behind Aurora’s ear. Her fingers lingered at her sister’s temple, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her lips. "Do you ever think we’re… too close?" she asked, voice low. She didn't sound afraid, just curious. She could feel the intensity of their connection, the electric charge of their arousal, the deep, primal need to be closer, to feel more. Aurora smiled softly, sadly. "Every time I wake up without you in the room. But I’d rather be too close than too far." She reached up and pulled Iris into a deep, passionate kiss, their tongues exploring each other's mouths, their bodies pressing tightly together. She could feel Iris's hands roaming her body, touching, exploring, arousing. She could feel the intense heat building between them, the deep need for release. They pressed their foreheads together, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync. Their hands clasped at the midpoint between them, a knot of fingers and familiarity. Oddly, nothing about this moment was sexual, and yet there was a charged electricity that others would misread, or fear, or try to name. The twins didn’t name it. They simply existed inside it. Not as sisters. Not as lovers. Not as anything the world had language for. Only Aurora and Iris. Only them. The night went on like that, whispered truths, skin against skin, soft touches, deep kisses, laughter and orgasmic cries mixing with the candlelight. And when sleep finally took them, it did so gently, holding them together in a single, slow heartbeat, their bodies entwined, their hearts beating as one.
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  6. Guilty. Oh boy. Very guilty. The next person wants to be used like a toy ;)
  7. intermittent sunshine
  8. I still prefer the Cortex Dramatic rules for "sex fights", but the way I play them, it's more about one character trying to seduce someone and convince them they want it, then that character either deciding to agree, escalate to contest and risk escalating their stress track (in my games, I use aroused and released stress tracks), or give in. If someone wants to play out a sex scene, they roll using standard contest rules to try to pus the other player past their "released" limit, making them orgasm. I used it for a Barbarella style sci-fi sex thing where the players had to out-sex their contacts to get info from them.
  9. Not guilty. I only got cleaned up thanks to a friend pulling me out of my self-destructive spiral and basically forcing me to check into an in-patient rehab, complete with programs and whatnot when I was discharged. The next person has never stayed in a hospital.
  10. IsabellaRose

    Olivia the Runaway Bride

    It's her wedding day, but here she is on the bus, no bridesmaids, no groom, no one but a single, lonely bride obviously running from something. Olivia had bought a wedding dress at a second hand shop thinking to use parts of it for a cosplay outfit, but the questions people asked about her upcoming nuptials, about her fiancé, about everything... just the interest they showed made her wonder. She wore it out one day. She got an Uber to a church in the city, walked in, then right back out a side door and down the street, just as if she'd run away from her wedding. She found a nearby bar and took a seat, ordered a drink. The comments came almost immediately, and in no time men were paying a lot of attention to the quiet girl who never knew how to respond. She played the role. Made up answers as they asked, created a whole fake wedding party. Eventually, after too many drinks all around, she agreed to their suggestions to make up with her fiancé. She made a fake phone call, promised to come home tomorrow, and told the emptiness on the other end of the line that they could talk. She didn't know if it was some kind of conquest fantasy of being the last guy to sleep with her before she got married, or if they just liked her, or maybe it was just that she was there, but it was obvious that she could take any one of these guys home tonight. She picked her favorite and asked him to take her back to his place, she didn't want to be alone, and it might be her last night before she's locked into marriage. That was the first time she pretended to be a runaway bride, but it wasn't the last. It became a thing with her, a weird fetishized version of a one-night stand. She bought several dresses, many different versions of gorgeous, sexy bridal lingerie, wigs in various colors and styles to take on different roles. She slept with men in every town and city nearby, all of them thinking they were getting the last taste of a woman before she was married.
  11. Not guilty. I think they had me do one and work and I'm an INTsomething? I can't remember. It's not like people ever answer those honestly, so I'm kind of meh about them. The next person has never seen a mental health professional.
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