#I know my limits
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Feedist kinktober #1: Gift
If you're the type of nightowl who doesn't mind a bit of danger and intrigue with your drunken carousing you might one night find yourself talking with a dark and charismatic stranger who buys you drinks but never imbibes. And if you manage to say the right things and ask the right questions this shadowy individual will invite you to a place of pleasures otherwise undetectable to the uninitiated.
The Regalo is an exclusive club catering to a highly particular clientelle, where hazy red lighting illuminates leather clad furniture that seats two types of patrons. In order to ensure business runs smoothly they are governed by a strict set of rules; the most important one being that what is sought by the one crowd must be given willingly by the other.
If you're new here you're sure to be greeted warmly by it's black-clad bar lurkers. Like vultures they flock to a new face, encircling you with honeyed words and sequestering you away to a comfortable booth. You begin to melt as they hungrily caress your flushed cheeks with their cold hands, at which point they start casually offering you their dark indulgences...
Normally you could only give them 14 percent of what they want without complications. Go over fifty and you won't live to see the day. But the Regalo has a solution: Chocolate cakes and bonbons, grilled lamb and duck confit, seafood that melts in your mouth and lavishly decorated pastries. Whoever works the kitchen has a special touch for which patrons pay an extraoridinary price. And when you give in and open your mouth to receive the luxuries offered to you from all sides you get to experience their unearthly quality; your face flushes and your heartbeat rises as you instinctively open up for the next bite, carried on a wave of praise and sultry affections. Their cool fingers are a welcome sensation on your hot body. Slowly but surely they guide you through the entire menu, filling you up bite by bite. The more you consume the more greedy they seem to become. And it's not long before a request is whispered into your ear.
You finally begin to realize what you have gotten yourself into, but pleasure has taken it's toll on your judgement and you can only moan and nod in agreement.
The sharp jab you feel is nearly lost in the sea of pleasures. You gasp and there's some laughter as your mouth is quickly stuffed with another bite, and the pain starts to give way to an unusual sensation both relaxing and invigorating. A strange mix of panic and calm, like the feeling of falling while laying in bed.
You sink deeper into pleasure as others begin to join in, their frigid lips pressing intimately against your quivering skin. Their once cold and malnourished bodies flush and bulge as they take their share, glowing with your blissfull heat and swelling against you. Studded belts and ornate corsets that now fail to contain their bloated bodies are hastily undone to make room for more.
The balance has shifted, and you smugly put your arms around the dazed cretins desperately enjoying your enhanced constitution...
You are stirred awake several hours later by a disgruntled barkeep, naked and messy but in a comfortable bed, who hands you a bathrobe and guides you out the door to close up.
The other patrons have long since left.
You protest and demand your clothes back, but the barkeeper simply chuckles and shakes his head before locking the door.
On your shameful walk home in the dim morning light you reflect on your hazy memories, wondering what parts of your experience at this weird goth club where real, but when you arrive home and examine yourself in the mirror you find yourself noticeably plumper, easily two sizes up from the day before, and covered in bite marks.
Perhaps you will visit that place again, you didn't even spend a dime after all...
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im alive! and currently using a lint roller to remove cat fur from all my black socks while suffering from acid reflux
#[ooc]#the cats have gone home#im now cat-less#im so sorry for keeping#my rp partners waiting#my dms are a mess#apparently i cant multitask#ill try to catch up#and work on drafts#not at the same time tho#i know my limits#cant multitask for shit
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Trainwreckshipping Day 2: Formal | Rivalry
in which volo is the flustered one this time 💕
#volo#submas emmet#kudari#trainwreckshipping#trainwreckship2023#trainwreckshipping week#pokemon#pokemon volo#THREE DAYS EXACTLY#i know my limits#:’)
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Let’s stop all the clocks
“Erin? Erin Quinn?”
Erin looked up from the book in her lap. It should have been one for one of her classes, but she’d decided to give herself a break and read the absolute trash Michelle had been going on about in the long phone calls that cut into Erin’s coffee budget. It was a quick read, she’d give it that, but she didn’t actually want anyone who knew her full name to have any idea she’d wasted even a second of her time on it and she tried to tuck it under a fold of the saggy, oversized cardigan she’d put on without thinking twice as she ran out the door. She’d been late, as per usual Mammy would say, and she’d consoled herself with the anonymity of train travel in a major metropolitan center. It wasn’t Derry. She’d not meet anyone who recognized her from Adam, as one of her lecturers had said, an idiom she’d not heard before but suspected Sister Michael would have adored.
She tried to place the man, who spoke with the same faded accent she had herself, though a little more posh. He looked like a generic example of thirty-year-old man, nondescript brown hair with no sign of a receding hairline, a bit of scruff around the jaw, broad shoulders, the usual American uniform of jeans and some themed sweatshirt, a bit ratty around the cuffs, not sharp in the least. She had no idea who he was, but anyone would admit he was entirely forgettable.
She, evidently, was not, as he knew her well enough to identify her with her head down, her hair bundled back with an elastic, wearing the glasses that had rapidly become more than an aesthetic choice for someone scaling the heights of academe. She’d said that once to Mammy, just so her mother would reply Catch yerself on in her most exasperated manner.
“That’s me,” she said, trying to sound impersonally polite and not guarded.
“You don’t remember me. Not at all,” he said. Grinned. His eyes were blue and he was more handsome than she’d thought. It was the smile and the complete lack of being insulted that she hadn’t a clue who he was that made him appealing. And the blue eyes. His hands were nice too.
“M’sorry, no,” she said.
“Dee. From Peace Across the Barricades,” he said. “Dee Foster.”
All Erin could remember was Clare screaming her head off, convinced the deaf boy was going to murder her in front of them all. And James clumping about in those pink waterproof trousers, calling himself a lad when he was the least laddish boy who’d ever lived.
“You gave me an Ulster Bank key-chain and some Rolo as a gift?” he said. “I think there was also a pencil.”
It came back to her in a flash. Maybe like the one people said you had before you died.
“Oh my God, Dee! Dee Foster!” She repeated his surname, as if she’d ever known it, as if she’d remembered him quite well in a fond, old-timey fashion, and not as the boy she’d made the most gauche pass at, trying to stick out her unremarkable boobs and cock her head to one side while he’d gawked at her in astonishment.
“You’re looking well, Erin,” he said, still smiling.
“Did you even like Rolo?” Erin heard herself ask, the most absolutely stupid question she could have come up with. Michelle’s eyes would have rolled right out of her head at it, if she could manage to keep them open. A set of twins ten months after her wedding had nearly done her in, even when the boys started taking a nap outside of the enormous double-pram that had become her latest and worst enemy.
“They’re all right, yeah? I prefer a Mars bar, if I have the choice,” he said.
“Rolo are nice though,” Erin said. “If you like a caramel center, there’s none better.”
She suddenly heard how she was related to Colm. Any minute now, Dee would make an excuse to flee and she would not be able to blame him.
“Yeah. It’s a funny thing, seeing you here,” he remarked. He leaned back more in the plastic seat. It seemed fleeing was not the the top of his list.
“They say it’s a small world,” she replied. “Doesn’t seem that way on the subway, all crammed together, all sorts—”
“No, not like home and that was a small place,” he said.
“Small in some ways, miles apart in others,” she said. There was a long pause, a sort of companionable one where she was able to recall she had indeed put on some blush and a bit of mascara before she’d left the flat. Apartment, they called it here, though her American friends were always terribly charmed when she spoke as she would have at home. They found it quaint, she knew that, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t the most likable person, so she had to play the cards she had been dealt. Being the winsome and quirky Irish lass had gotten her this far…
“I regretted it, after,” he said.
“You regretted Peace Across the Barricades?” Erin said. “It fell far short of what he wanted, Father Peter, but it was well-meant even if he was rather full of himself—”
“I regretted turning you down, when you wanted to make out. When you asked and told me you hadn’t any moves,” he said. “You were wearing plaid pajamas and a choker necklace.”
She blushed as she hadn’t for a solid decade.
“I shouldn’t have, it’s so embarrassing—”
“I said I regretted it, saying no. Even if you didn’t really know me,” he said. “You were so shy and also, what brass, to make such a proposition.”
“Michelle said you were a ride,” Erin offered.
“Christ, it takes me home to hear that,” he laughed. “Flattered, too, mind you.”
“I should’ve tried to get to know you. Not treated you like a, like a piece of meat. I’m sorry for that,” she said.
“I’m not,” he said.
“No?”
This was the oddest conversation she could recall and she spoke to Orla nearly every week.
“If you’d been more polite then, more considerate, there’d been nothing to talk about now. I wouldn’t have blurted out your name in a train station waiting room because I wanted to talk to you again. To see that smile of yours,” he said. “Make you blush.”
“You’re quite the charmer,” Erin replied. She blushed harder, if that was even a thing.
“You’ve been too long among the Americans, Erin,” he replied. “This is just Londonderry—”
“Derry,” she interrupted.
“Just so,” he said. “I wished I’d gone over to you, when our parents were all there, arguing. I wished I’d gone over and said something, anything, you wanted to answer. Given you the last Rolo, maybe. Taken the chalk from your hand and written something else on that board. Something you’d have remembered me by.”
“You wished it, eh? Past tense?” she said. She could never leave well enough alone and not everyone cared for her endless monologues about the niceties of the English language. She’d have taken the words back if she could.
“Present tense as well,” Dee said. “Where are you off to?”
“Back up to Boston,” she said. She felt the urge to explain what she did there, her studies and such, and clamped her mouth shut. He hadn’t asked and there was a runaway train taken over her tongue, God knows what she’d come out with if she allowed herself the leeway.
“Isn’t that lucky? I’m headed up there myself,” he said.
“Luckier they don’t assign seats on this train,” she said. Fuck it, this was a chance she had to take. “If you wanted to maybe make that old wish come true—”
She broke off because he’d suddenly stood up. He was tall, had probably grown more after she’d last seen him, and she had to crane her neck to see his face.
“Or not. You probably have other things to do, work or something,” she said, trying to claw back any shred of self-respect. Her pride was long, long gone.
“I was only going to get some snacks for the trip,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the nearest shop with its racks of sweets and bottles of water, juice, all the brightly colored health drinks full of chemicals she could never stomach, though they were said to be good for a hangover.
“Oh, all right then,” she said.
He came back with a plastic bag filled with terrible American chocolate and more satisfying packets of crisps, Cokes, those weird cheese-filled pretzels she couldn’t ever get enough of even though they were inarguably rather disgusting.
“I got some Rolo for old time’s sake,” Dee said, then fished out a little plastic square and held it out to her. It said I love NY but the love was a red heart. “And a keychain. This is my move, Erin Quinn. I hope it’s good enough.”
After they’d moved back to Belfast, she kept her housekeys on it, the letters obscured by the scratches on the plastic, the red heart clear. They gave Rolo as a wedding favor, to the bafflement of their parents, and the knowing looks of Michelle, Clare and James. Orla had only nodded sagely and Dee knew well enough by then not to inquire what she was thinking.
@asteraceae-blue I decided to post this one first because it's a sunny Saturday morning here and that felt like rom-com energy, not angst
#derry girls#derry girls fanfic#erin/dee#erin quinn#peace across the barricades#michelle#romance#rom-com#humor#post-canon#takes place in the US so I don't screw up too much stuff about Ireland or Northern Ireland#I know my limits#meet-cute?#more like meet-confused
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For someome who cums WAYYYY too much, I really have the most insane breeding kink; it’s toxic😮💨
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the day I'm writing a Nandermo fic the fandom would collapse on how bad it is 😭
#I know my limits#those two fuckers#yeah I can't get into their minds for shit#maybe for fun I should try lol#kztpost
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FUNNY YOU SHOULD SAY THAT I was just thinking the other day how I should link you if not my general zero escape playlist that I'm still messing around with at least the zwg one since that has far fewer songs by comparison
I also only unlocked the ability to blorbo playlist like a year and a half ago or something?? Because I enjoy losing my mind mostly over lyrics when it comes to songs right and somehow there is not A SINGLE lyrical cover of any major ze music or even fansongs there's only two I could find and I did not like them so I had to make do somehow my brain learnt to project lol
okay listen. listen. listen.
firstly yes send me the zwg playlist i’ll put it on my tv and play it through my earpods and open my word document and think to myself “god damn it Diana why are you so hard to write dialogue for” (FOR THOSE OF YOU KEEPING TRACK! WE ARE NO LONGER GOD DAMNING SIGMA! SIGMA ANGST SCENES AND SIGMA + AKANE SCENES FLOW SO SMOOTHLY AND I’M SUPER HAPPY ABOUT IT! but Diana’s current vlr timeline characterization is making dialogue. stilted. if it’s not one thing it’s another.)
secondly. i was just thinking about how much of a god damn shame it is that i’ve never used the midi keyboard i got for christmas like two or three years ago and i came to the conclusion that i’m just Not A Musician. love music, very capable of vividly imagining choreography and music videos and my current daydream hyperfixation has me pretending that in another life i’m a successful cover artist (and also fully transitioned—less relevant).
but like. that love doesn’t translate into being able to create music. i don’t know what happened exactly but between me giving my first keyboard to my younger sister when she left for college (the musical theater major graduate who also Actually Composes Music) and getting the tiny midi keyboard with no compatible software i have completely lost the ability to even like, mimic music.
this has just been me ranting about something that makes me sad that i can’t stop focusing on (because NOW whenever i listen to FUCKING ANYTHING i am forced to imagine That Other Universe Kay covering the music and having friends) um. i lost the plot.
OH YEAB this is the part where i say “let’s make our own zero escape fansongs” except the whole lack of musical talent thing. HOWEVER (and i say this with zero evidence but that just means i have zero evidence to the contrary) I Fully Believe that if someone were to write lyrics to Blue Bird Lamentation and you were to sing those lyrics it would be beautiful.
#kay q&a#kay rambles#kay personal#i would like to request a less violently active imagination please#‘kay how’s foretold going’ we’re 4k words deep and still in the first two weeks on the moon#there was a desire to get the chapter done by halloween and offer it up as a trick or treat treat y’know#but i think this chapter’s gonna end up being somewhere between 15-20k words by the time i’m done with it#i know my limits
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I refuse to watch Dune part 2 purely because of how fucked up part 1 made me (I have never lost my mind as much as sitting through that movie) but I can appreciate the fact that Zendaya seems to take one look at how fucked up that twink becomes, goes “nope”, and rides off on her giant ass worm. Love that for her
#dune part two#dune 2#dune spoilers#dune part 2 spoilers#I watched part 1 with my dad in theatres#and by the time the giant castle was attacked I was actively checking my watch#and considering the act of falling asleep in an imax theatre#i know my limits#and Dune is it
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im sorry but if anyone thinks AEW, the business, fandom and community werent toxic before punk arrived, then I’m asking where the hell youve been and to curate your experience better for your own sake, you dont have to expose yourself to bs if you dont wanna deal with it
we are talking about pro wrestling god damn, we got some of the most annoying and toxic fans there are
#sincerely someone whos been following aew since the literal first hour#not to make this into a punk vs elite thing cause jfc grow up but#I remember when kenny and bucks back in 2018 got as much flack as punk gets rn 😂#my point being#this tug o war is stupid#please take a break if you need too#these silly shows are not worth loosing sleep and health over#thats why im constantly on and off with wrestling#i know my limits#percht.txt#wrestling thoughts tm
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Ok based on your las post you should probably avoid the analog series Kids TV then because it really is manly made out of those claymation figures
Like I said, I know about all of these already and have seen plenty of clips and explanations of their content. I don't watch any of these things except through the filter of YouTubers reviewing them.
ALSO I SPELLED ANALOG IN THAT POST YOU'RE REFERRING TO LIKE ANALOGUE AND THAT'S SO ANNOYING...*kicks wall* I hate spelling things wrong. I was too scared to look up the spelling though because WHAT IF IT SHOWED ME THE MANDELA CATALOGUE????
*punches fist through wall*
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Hey I know people mean well when they reply things like "please remember to take care of yourself!!" when replying to me talking about getting work done, but also: have you considered........I need to do work.......to.......take care of myself........
Like I'm all about self-care and all that, but also, self-care isn't just taking the day off and bubble baths and buying gifts for yourself. It's also managing your time and making sure you get paid and make money. I know I'm constantly working on shit, but this IS how I make money TO take care of myself.
It's a small thing, but a slight adjustment of language, like saying "I hope you can find time to relax" really does go a long way.
#this is a bit of a pet peeve of mine ngl#I am 31#I know how to take care of myself#i know my limits#i know you mean well#but i can't just stop working#people paid me money for my service
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the urge to reblog the opinion meme vs my intense anxiety every time i get an anon
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ever made a oc specifically for a rp
Yeah
#rebloged#ask blog#fox’s rambles#ask#anon#I’m not making a whole new blog tho I’ll get too burnt out#I know my limits#and my mental health comes first
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im taking a nap before work i cant do this on an empty tank, not even with an energy drink
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I just want to see one of those clickbait mobile ads with the sad women where they end up happy. Please give the pregnant lady and her baby a warm house with functioning windows. Please just give the sad girl a bath and nice clothes. No more breaking walls down. No more buzzing off their hair. No more crying, I just want to see them better off
#i know this is the sims#but one of the first times i ever played something for an actual day straight was the sims#and it's a contributing factor to why i don't let myself play video games#i know my limits
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Mr. Pointy and tall bug
#doodle#sketch#scribble#oc tag#Firmis#Dethkuloz#Extant Universe#July 2022#It's real messy but hey it's them#My OC art might look like this for a bit#I've been so focused on AF so this is the best I can do#Not to make it seem like AF is a chore#I know my limits
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