dualcom pet girlthing femme spoonie up for adoption//NOT HERE TO SERVE//please be gentle. Handle with care// fantasy and kinks between consenting adults/ agedreaming dandere kitten/please read pinned post/ icky little sister/ bi (not looking for cismen)/demisexual/ she/her/ Chi, Amo, Sawako, Richeh, Homura, Chihiro, Koyuki Soyama, Tinkerbell, Rani, Bess, Rapunzel kinnie/ lynx point nekomimi little sister to @seekingonceagain, let's make a whole family polycule?🤍 looking to be someone's little tiny daughterwife/cat
I'm Nymph and I'm 7 years old (but my body is 21) and I'm your little neko fae daughter!
(I'm a little wanna be ddlg kitten for the power exchange kink and agere (even sfw) that festered from childhood trauma. Everything is fantasy, I just wanna be a kid but I'm in control of what happens to my body/me this time where everybody loves me and everything I do wrong is treated with patience and compassion)
Take that as you will. If I make you uncomfortable, please just block. No, there's nothing sexual about children and "children" things. It's the power dynamic and nurturing I'm attracted to.
About me:
I am a demisexual/biromantic hedonist. Femme4masc/femme4butch!!! For anyone who doesn't know what those words mean, if you have access to Tumblr, you have access to Google. No bro, I'm not going to tell you or show you what I'm wearing today or anything else.
I have three more blogs! Both a personal one (@fawnbled-555) where i mostly reblog but have some original thoughts. A Fursona/Jojifuku/kawaii pet play little space blog ( @danderekitten ). And a chronic illness blog, because I am chronically ill and my body hates me lol and I hate it back! (DM me for blog name, bc dat shid gets personal)💀
I am cisgender, I use she/her and I'm bi. There's gonna be a lot of femme stuff and trans girl stuff, what can I say we have common interests. Needless to say, I am a trans ally and if you don't fuck with that you can die🍼
I have BDD (body dysmorphic disorder) and some unhealthy and problematic views I have inflicted on myself that I can't pull apart from. I'm sorry. It is never my intention to cause harm.
I'm also a spoonie. I have a lot of chronic illnesses and mental illnesses. They're not my personality, an excuse or your business. Most of my kinks result from trauma, be nice or die.
I would absolutely love to rp in DM's or in my ask box!!! Mascs and butches I'm begging for some interaction please 😫
I'm on pacific standard time and have a very busy day-to-day life. I'm sorry if it takes me a while to respond! Sometimes I like to disappear 🗝️
I'm looking for a possessive shepherd doggy masc to be a farm cat with and to run around the forest and cause mischief and maybe get knotted by 💕
My k1nk$ are: fauxc3st🫂, 3xhib1tionism💒, dd/lg👄, md/lg❤️🔥, big brother cg🧸, big sister cg🍼, teacher/student ✏️, doctor/patient🩺, princess/knight👑, reverse harem🥰, praise🥺, light water sp0rts (me)💦, light b0ndage➰, petpl4y (🐇🐈⬛🧚🏻♀️😈👼🏻), light preyplay🪽, ag3 pl4y (no p3d0s)🦋, succubus/demon🕯️, blasphemy✝️, kidnapping📦, power exchange☁️, mas0ch1sm (🔪), light c.n.c.🪢, hed0nism😇, size difference🐾, light ch0king🫣, age gaps💸, etc.
subtle intimacy is so soft. knowing someone’s routine and slowly becoming a part of it. memorising favourite teas and soups and drink orders. good morning and good night texts and messy paragraphs of love written half asleep. nicknames only you know. just small things that say “look how dear you are to me.”
tw- mention of overdose, sh, chronic illness, emotional abuse, parental abuse, sexual abuse
I am chronically ill, I've always been sick and that's come with a lot of emotional abuse, trauma and cptsd. I really feel like my body was given to me as punishment for something I did in a past life or something. I haven't been able to accept that I can't rationalize it.
Growing up my parents didn't and still don't think anything is wrong with me because there's nothing wrong with them (untrue) and I am a reflection of them. I've never gotten much treatment and the treatment I did get was very minimal and or only caused more damage. It didn't help that doctors didn't know what was wrong with me so they just gave me the diagnosies they give to everyone when they don't know what's wrong.
I have two chronic digestive diseases that have molded my brain and nervous system into constant fight or flight mode for any digestive sensation. I developed emetophobia, the phobia of vomit/vomiting, to the point of not eating for days and eventually slowly overdosing on pepto bismol because I believed it was my only safety net. Getting out of that placebo, realizing the one thing I thought could save me, was the thing hurting me, was one of the top two hardest things I've ever gone through.
I also have a musculoskeletal disorder and a connective tissue disorder and hyper mobility/flexibility. From these I experience chronic pain and nerve pain. My nervous system doesn't know anything other than 100% mode all of the time. I also have restless leg syndrome and am theorizing that I may have a dopamine disorder of some kind because I'm also AuDHD. I also have asthma, severely degenerative vision and lots of anxiety, an eating disorder resulting from trauma, and a couple other mental illnesses.
I really hate my body and I hate my brain. My parents still invalidate and gaslight me and I still love them. My employers don't understand me and see me as unreliable and irresponsible and immature. I hate myself so much, I just want to be understood. So for anyone who cares, maybe this could help you understand me a bit more.
I am in the dualcom agere/agedre/petre communities because I didn't have consent as a child. I was my parents property and they were allowed to do whatever they wanted to me even when I fought back, and whenever I did I was always in seriously punished and threatened. Whenever I told my parents my tooth was wiggly, my dad would straddle me in the narrow hallway of our house and pull the tooth out. I had lost all of my teeth by fourth grade. My parents thought my butt was cute, but I won't get into that. I was my mom's doll, she'd dress me in clothes I hated, took pictures of me posing for her and put it in her scrapbook and shared it with all of the family. I am an only child, I am the oldest grandchild of seven years and I am the last of my mother's bloodline. All eyes were/are always on me, and when I was still cute and didn't argue, I was pampered and loved. Once I started getting more sick and I started fighting back when I was finally school aged, the retaliation and manipulation began. "We've done so much for you why can't you be easy." "My dad beat me and my mom, do you want that instead?" "I gave you a roof over your head and food in your belly and this is how you treat me?" "You can't keep doing this to me", specifically when my mom found out I was taking a blade to my skin.
I'll be honest that I still don't know how to fully recognize emotional abuse. I would even defend my parents with their own excuses when friends in high school told me I was being abused. "It's their first time as parents and going through life", "they didn't mean it that way I'm just too sensitive", "this is normal for our family", "I'm the child and they're the parent", and so on. I think if anything, my parents are crass to the point of being emotionally abusive. Because they don't realize or remember all the things they did that hurt me. They've always believed they were in the right, after all I was just a kid, what did I know?
But I know that them and all the bullies in school, all of the failed friendships, had carved their wounds into me, that I was nothing, that I was helpless, overly sensitive, left out and ostracized and alienated for the undiagnosed neurological disorders and I've never been able to really grow from that. I still don't have friends, I've never been in a friend group that didn't just keep me around as a joke, I've never been a part of a community, I'm just there.
I, through my anxiety and cptsd, developed bfrb, compulsive self harming behaviors. I became what I called an auto-masochist. I eventually found sh in the sense people typically think of and it made me feel in control; most importantly, it made me feel like I could control the pain I felt for once. It's been really hard to get out of the mentality that I can hurt myself for comfort. That I can endure the pain believing that it will cleanse me. Believing that I deserved how much it hurt. Believing that I was a bad person and that I deserved to punish myself. I still have compulsive and intrusive thoughts. But I'm 10 months clean somehow.
I've known about agere for the past five years or so but it hasn't been fun. My partner doesn't understand/support it and honestly I feel even more isolated than ever. I don't really know how to regress anymore, like I did in the beginning of the relationship because now I feel shame. Sometimes I can regress but it's symptomatic and involuntary and rare.
I've repressed myself for so long trying to fit in that I developed dpdr. I don't know existence while being lucid anymore. When I start to think about how I'm feeling and the things I'm going through, I melt down. I can't handle it. My nervous system is that of a war veteran and I am crumbling underneath it all. If there is a god I don't understand what I did to be this way. I don't understand what I did to be so alone. I don't understand why I was given this broken body that only gets worse as time goes on. Things don't get better. All of you who have ever said that fucking lied. I just get worse. The world just gets worse. Existence is only measured in negative stimuli. There's no rest when demons keep nipping your heels. Life is a game and I've already lost at everything. Are you starting to get me now?
Part of me even wants to get worse so then people will realize that I am and always have been sick, so they'll finally care about me, even though logically I know that isn't true. And I've been to therapy, they were all either unprofessional, "you can't have an eating disorder because you don't have a feeding tube", and undereducated, "you're really self aware, I don't know how to help you." Because I don't have a therapist, doctors won't let me get tested so I can't get life changing medications and treatments. One of my diagnoses is from a doctor outside of my insurance and they won't accept it, despite giving them all of the paper work and test results three times.
I can't sleep, I can't think, I can't remember, I can't see, I can't eat, I can't breathe, I can't digest, I can't support myself, and I can't trust "help". I am so utterly broken and alone. Age regression is the only thing I have and every time I try to pick it up, it falls through the cracks of my hands.
And for some fucking reason my broken brain has decided that the only way to heal from my parental trauma, is for me to be a child again in similar scenarios except I'm in control this time, I control when it stops, I will not be in pain this time and the parental figure will love me and love me and love me.
I hate myself. But I refuse to accept responsibility for how people feel about my healing and coping mechanisms anymore. I am sick. I am broken. I am a little. And I am sexual. If who I am makes you uncomfortable, no one is making you stay here. I refuse to minimize myself anymore.
I will get help. I will love myself. I will find safety. I will find treatment. I will be okay. These are things I have so much doubt in but I refuse to give up. I will die trying.
So hi, this is me. Stay awhile? Or have I scared you off. Despite all this rage and sadness and fear, I will remain soft and kind. If this is truly the hand I am dealt, so be it. |-/
I want to be treasured and have all of the little things mean the world to my lover/love interest like in a romance anime.
I want them to notice something is bugging me just by how I'm holding myself that day without having to openly communicate what's wrong directly, reliving the stress by describing it.
I want them to be addicted to the way I smell, fresh out of the shower, after a hard day of work, etc.
I want my tears to be their tears. I want them to get excited and nearly break because we brushed up against each other for a moment.
I want them to daydream and fantasize making happy memories with me. I want them to desperately want me but still hold their composure and not allow themselves to be filled with and controlled by sexual thoughts.
I want them to care for my emotional and physical wellbeing more than for their sexual pleasure of how they could use me/what I could provide for them.
I want to instantly light up their day just by seeing me. I want their heart to skip a beat just because I smiled at them. I want them to feel safe and bliss when we laugh together, solidifying that I am too precious for this world and that they want to protect me from all stress and worse.
I want them to notice when I change perfume or my makeup or when I wear something new. I want them to be excited about the things that excite me, thinking that it's a blessing to actually see me so happy about something.
I want to feel wanted. Not because of the sexual pleasure I can provide. Because I'm still a good person who is trying to have hope in this godforsaken world. Because I'm so cute. And because I already suffer so much.
I want to feel valued.
I want to feel special. I don't want to doubt in my lover. I don't want there to be mistrust that they're fooling off with some other girl, whether that's by seeking out specific porn actresses or by interacting with someone online or not.
I want each time we get in bed to be something holy that is never to be tainted.
I want to be respected. Have my needs and wants acknowledged and sought after. I want to be more than a girl you can fuck.
I want stop to mean stop and red to mean everything becomes paused until further notice. I want my consent to actually mean something. And if I'm in an altered state of mind, if I'm dissociating, that means nothing happens until I'm lucid again.
I want the little things to mean everything. I want my lover to cherish the time we have together. I want them to be clingy.
I just want to feel some sort of semblance to being wanted and respected and cared for.
It's actually healing when people are patient and kind and gentle with you. So much so that it feels false and you can't help but be in denial about it the first 500,000 times.
