Rising from the ashes. Again...

Sharing what i like or crave for. I won't be stopped. BBW 40s from Russia looking for Daddy, someone close or able to visit often. I'm demisexual, sapiosexual, noetisexual. I am Ambiamorous. NSFW blog! No minors! Be over 18 (or 21) to be in my blog! Adult content! None of the images here belong to me unless it has tags #me or #mine. If you own something and want it to be removed DM me for it to be deleted. Blank blogs or any suspicious to me blogs will be blocked! Please, indicate your age in the description!

[naughty-lady-v6]

Back again as this blog is mainly for myself and for all like-minded people. Sharing what i like, think and crave for. Back again to my roots. The blog that got deleted was newnameoldways. I'll be glad to find my old friends and get new ones no matter how long until they delete or mute me again. Please, share.

Check my tags:

#me- some glimpse of me.

#mine - pictures taken by me

#special - posts I like the most

#angel wings - mainly things I posted

#my thoughts - posts where I added something from myself

#n.b. - important things

#bdsm safety - safety things to consider while being involved into bdsm

Update. The blog was terminated, but i got it back. My new one, that I'll use as a backup is @midnightladyblog Follow me there too, please.

[the-dominant-script]

What do you do when someone has spent so long surviving that every act of kindness feels suspicious? How do you care for a person who doesn’t know how to believe they’re worth caring for?

Slowly. You don’t care for them by arguing with their fears or trying to convince them they’re worthy. Most people who have spent years surviving have heard the right words before. What they struggle to believe is consistency. So you show up. Calmly. Repeatedly. Without making them earn basic kindness. And even then, understand something important: you cannot heal someone by loving them harder than they are willing to receive. At some point, they have to participate in their own healing. If every act of kindness feels suspicious to them, don’t take it personally. Suspicion is often what trust looks like before it has had enough evidence.

But they also have a responsibility. A wounded person deserves compassion. They do not get a lifetime pass to reject every good thing that reaches for them. Sometimes the most caring thing you can do is stay steady. Not louder. Not more convincing. Just steady.

Because eventually, words fade into the background. And what remains is a simple question is “Has this person been safe to trust over time?”

That’s where real healing usually begins.

[naughty-lady-v6]

[daddyskittnn]

[angel-b-torture]

[jimshortz]

[poisonintheink]

ᵉˣᶜᵉʳᵖᵗˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃⁿ ᵘⁿʷʳⁱᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ 𐙚

— ʀ.ᴛ.

[76seven]

[icaseybaybee]

[jimshortz]

[moondrifter-60-deactivated20260]

[thepersonalquotes]

[heartsnmagic]

[im-perfectly-unique-deactivated]

Good night! Sweet dreams! ✨

[chandrian-returns]

[sunnycat33blog]

[viviennevividly]

She had not come here for some fantasy life… not in her heart of hearts. She didn’t come for simulation… for play. No. She was here for herself… to be real, whole, pure. No fakery, no filters, no masks, no lies… no deceptions whatsoever.

She came here for him… because he asked her to come… because she saw and felt something in him she just couldn’t leave alone.

Their exchanges had cracked her open. He loosened and lifted windows long stuck closed… his essence pouring in like ancient moonlight… illuminating shadows she had long abandoned… awakening facets lost in deep slumber. And once she retrieved those pieces… she would not abandon them again. They demanded their reckoning… their day in the sun. She wanted another chance to honor her truth… her desires… her needs….

She was never anything but herself here… flawed, broken, bare… fully vulnerable and exposed. And while some may call her naive for leaving herself open that way… that is what she gave him.

She let him in… showing him everything he asked to see and more, because she never wanted another forced life…. She wouldn’t cut herself up into palatable pieces anymore, she wanted to be seen, desired, and devoured whole—holy mother and depraved whore; angel and demon; maiden and crone; lady and beast. And she never wanted him to be some two-dimensional portrait of a fantasy either. She wanted him broken… damaged… unhealed… raw… vulnerable and beautiful… just as he was.

If she wasn’t for him, he would know. If he wasn’t for her, she would know. Perhaps that was naive… perhaps that was rare. She was aiming for rare.

- Viv

📷 by Zika Laura Szasz

Zita Laura Szasz - Photographer

[memoirofadarkqueen-2]

☝🏻This! ♥️♥️ 👑♠️

[naughty-lady-v6]