esi

24+ she/they genderqueer, nona high femme, man-aligned bisexual

[lunesiprincesa]

Masterlist ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ to worship and bind the pages of horizon

archive of the high femme of the moon. ink stroked from the darker sphere — of love, desire, and perhaps ... obsession. twenty-four, she/they bisexual, afro-caribbean and pacific islander by blood, residing in the malay archipelago. not a woman, nor a man, but a princess nonetheless.

Brief intro: I'm currently only writing for Babyshark ship, hopefully will be more open to write for more pairings and characters. This is a sideblog, so I apologize for not following back, I'm not too keen of sharing my main on here.

What I write: Dark romances, taboo dynamics and kinks are all up my alley. I like a lot of weird things, so get that block button ready.

What I love: Sevika Arcane, Olivia Dean, pink, cowboy smut, and EPIC The Musical.

Before you interact: This is not a space for minors and those who don't like taboo topics. Utilize that block button. I am Black first before I'm queer, but I'm queer nonetheless. I don't have DNI list, because it's useless, but this is a writing space centering adult Black, SEAsian, Indigenous and Pacific Islander folks first and foremost.

© LUNESIPRINCESA 2026 • works published on this page are credited and belong to esi. it is highly discouraged to copy, translate, rework, copy to AI platforms, without explicit and written permission.

[geminivenusgirl]

something i think about a lot is how in gtn, gideon spends most of the book oblivious/in denial about her feelings towards harrow, but when we finally get her first person narration in htn, she’s a lot more direct about it.

like sure, she’s mostly cracking jokes, but the concept of her spending all those months dormant just thinking about the depth of her love for harrow makes me lose my mind a bit…

especially when you consider the fact gideon assumes harrow could never feel the same way, and that she lobotomized herself for the sake of her independence instead of overwhelming grief </3

[xadvocatusdiabolixx]

If It’s God’s Will~ Part 2

You’re no longer a repressed little virgin but will Sevika really stick by your side like she promised?

tw: g!p priest!sevika, virgin!reader, coercion, religious trauma, breeding kink, fingering, pussy eating, corruption kink

warnings: 18+ only, minors and men please do not interact.

Yes there will be a part 3!

Previous chapter

Throughout the dark winter nights your church cleaning duties continued. Each evening you’d leave your house, wonder through your little village as the sun went down and enter the old church building silently. Focused on your task, you’d find your supplies in the cupboard, complete your daily assignment from the rota you’d long since memorised and return your cleaning tools to their rightful place. Then before you left for the evening you’d knock on the priest’s office door and wait to be called in, burying your giddy emotions deep down so as not to appear overly keen. When inside you’d allow your priest to have her way with you in whatever manner she saw fit, just like the good little pious girl you were.

Some days you’d start off on your knees for her, sucking her cock under her desk whilst she wrote the next week’s sermon on the importance of purity. Other days she’d bully your pussy relentlessly, forcing you to cum again and again until your knees couldn’t hold you up any longer and you collapsed in her arms. And even on one occasion she’d bent you over her desk and forced her rather large dick into your tight virgin arsehole, causing you to cry out in discomfort, telling her that you didn’t think babies could be made using that hole but it didn’t put her off. Because that was her plan, she wanted to have her fun and breed her cute little church mouse. Therefore every night, without fail, she’d finish inside your cunt and plug your hole up, muttering about how she was sure this time it would take as her large hand rubbed your soft tummy.

Sevika was this recently appointed village priest that had completely changed the course of your life. Once an innocent little virgin with repressed sexual fantasies, you were now a sweet little whore who’d listen to her priest’s every command without a second thought. Thanks to her attention you found that you’d try your hardest to complete your chores for the evening in record time whilst still doing a good job, all so you could get to spend as much time with Sevika as possible.

It wasn’t just the way she made you physically feel that excited you so much either. She’d gift you silky ribbons for your hair, and compliment the way you sung during service. Thanks to her rich voice and sharp intellect you loved listening to her takes on religion or God, she always seemed to teach you something new. Not to mention her stories of her past adventures that inspired sheltered innocent little you, but most of all you loved listening to her plan for your future. And what a sweet plan that was…

You were to become her pretty little wife and bear her a healthy brood of children. Sevika had always wanted a large family but had missed out on settling down thanks to her calling to the religious life and the years spent becoming a priest. Luckily within your branch of Christianity it wasn’t frowned upon for priests to marry so when she spotted her sweet little church mouse she knew she had to have you. Or at least that’s what she told you.

One thing you were unsure of was why she couldn’t just ask your parents for your hand in marriage? Why did they have to find out that you were with child first? You really didn’t want your ma and pa to think badly of you… but luckily Sevika had an answer for that like she did for everything, that’s just how smart she was!

She’d made you see that since she was so much older than you, 20 years older in fact, your parents might not approve of the union. Where if you were a ruined woman, pregnant out of wedlock then surely they’d agree to let Sevika make an honest woman out of you?

That was another thing you loved about Sevika, when you were around her you didn’t need to think about anything. You could switch your brain off and let her take charge of you, mind, body and soul.

A whole month and a half passed from the first night you met her and as the days went by you became increasingly aware that your monthly bleed was late. Could it be that Sevika’s seed had taken just like she had hoped?

You couldn’t help but place a gentle hand on your corseted stomach, tonight you’d tell Sevika the good news and hopefully she’d be as overjoyed as you were.

That night you quickened your pace as you made your way to church under the sea of shining stars, desperate to share your update with your priest. Instead of following your usual routine of completing your cleaning tasks before seeing Sevika you practically skipped right up to her door and immediately knocked on the heavy wood. Your excitement was so great you didn’t think twice about diverging from your routine.

Much to your surprise though, a gruff man’s voice called out from behind the door, coaxing you to enter the room. You did so with trepidation, your body stiff with uncertainty and your head swimming with anxious all consuming thoughts.

Sat in Sevika’s plush desk chair was an old man you’d never seen before, he was greying and aged, wearing the same robes you saw your priest in every day. Confusion must have been quite evident on your face as the older man spoke up as soon as he laid eyes on you. “If you are looking for your usual parish priest she’s away on business so I’m here in her stead” he offered you no more information than that.

Slightly dumbfounded you questioned “when with she return?” to which you received a brisk “I am unsure” from the unhelpful gentleman. You apologised for interrupting him and informed him that you were here to clean the church, leaving the office as soon as he acknowledged your words.

This couldn’t be happening you thought. Where was she? Panic rose in your chest, your corset suddenly feeling too tight. What would happen to you if she didn’t return before your pregnancy started showing? Would your parents kick you out? No, you needed to keep a calm mind for your child. Surely she’d only be gone a few weeks, a month at most! There’s no way she’d take your virginity and just leave you ruined and used, right?

So for that night you continued on with your work. And the night after. And the night after that. Until a few months had passed and there was still no sign of Sevika… or your period. It quickly became clear to you that you were definitely carrying Sevika’s child thanks to the varied symptoms you were dealing with in her absence.

You’d been suffering rather badly with morning sickness, you seemed to no longer be able to tolerate some of your favourite foods and the mere thought of them would send you running to the nearest chamber pot. Not to mention the swollen breasts, extreme mood swings, and oh god… the fatigue. You were so tired all the time. It was such a great effort to bring yourself to leave your family’s cottage and head into the village for your cleaning job, but you still somehow managed just on the off chance Sevika had returned.

Instead you found yourself greeting the old man sent to replace her before continuing on with your tasks, often crying to yourself as you worked, your tears mixing with the dirty mop water.

The only thing that kept you going was the thought that Sevika had left part of herself within you, the baby you were now growing in your womb may be the last thing you have left of her so you’d do you best to protect it.

Despite your challenges over the next few months you’d done well to hide your pregnancy. When questioned about your symptoms you’d quickly come up with a reasonable lie, desperately hoping that God would forgive you for your tall tails, you were carrying the child of one of his messengers after all. You prayed to the lord on your knees every night that he’d forgive your sins and bring your priest home to you safely.

Around the late 5 month mark you started showing a small bump and things became harder to hide so you adjusted your dresses to fit better and tried your best to relax your corseting so as not to squish your stomach.

After 6 months had passed your tummy became increasingly more difficult to obscure but again you did what you could to avoid being found out. 6 and a half months in and there was still no sign of your priest returning to you… Being forced to listen to her replacement drone on and on in church every Sunday angered you greatly. He shouldn’t be stood where your lover should be, that place behind the alter was hers not his! Visions of your once nightly union flashed before your eyes, the priest stood in the exact spot Sevika had taken your virginity on that alter months before. No longer were your cries of holy ecstasy filling these hallowed halls, instead the angelic sounds of the church choir echoed around the rafters.

A few nights before your 7 month mark you had returned home from church and were preparing to head to bed, sleep calling you after an exhausting evening spent polishing the gold chalices used during service. Dressed in your long flowing night dress which now betrayed the swollen appearance of your tummy you stood in front of your mirror braiding your hair before bedtime. As you finished tying your braid with a ribbon your hands couldn’t resist the urge to caress your belly as Sevika’s child kicked at you from inside the safety of your womb. You were convinced this child was going to be a dancer thanks to the frequent vigorous movements you felt from them.

Wistfully you thought about all these small moments Sevika was missing out on as her first child was growing inside you. Your delicate hand rubbed against your stretch marked skin as you whispered “calm down little one, it’s time for rest” in a vain attempt to get the baby to relax. Just then as you smiled down at your bump your mother abruptly walked into your room bringing you a fresh candle for your nightstand. “My dear, I thought you might need thi-“.

Shocked at her sudden unannounced arrival you stood frozen with your hands protectively resting on your tummy. There was no time to turn and hide your body, your ma had definitely already seen everything she needed to.

“Y-your with child…” she stuttered out, candle dropped on the floor and horror plastered on her face as she took in the sight of you. “Mother! It’s not what you think!” you reached for her, your mouth dry and heart hammering hard in your chest. She stood back from you in fright and called for your father. “No, no, no, no!! Please don’t call for pa! I promise I can explain” but it was too late, the heavy thuds of your father could be heard stomping up the stairs. He wasn’t a bad man, just strict, however you definitely didn’t want him finding out this way.

“Our daughter is a whore! She’s pregnant! Look!” Your mother pointed to you, drawing his attention to your pregnant tummy as cold sweats broke out upon your body. The energy in the room shifted to one of pure abhorrence as your father grabbed you by the hair, inadvertently pulling the ribbon from your braid and he dragged you unceremoniously down the steep stairs.

Without stopping to grab a coat to cover your modesty you father then threw you out the front doorway and onto the dirty path that winded up to your parents home.

Only at the last moment did you manage to turn your body so as not to land on your bump.

As you lay in the mud dread filled your mind, the nightmare where you were being chucked out of the only home you’d ever known was coming to fruition. However, to your surprise, your father joined you outside, once again grabbing you but this time by the wrist as he pulled you up and hauled you towards the village, your sobbing mother following close behind. Despite your desperate crying your parents argued about what to do with you and who could have been responsible for your pregnancy, listing off names of ‘no good’ young men in the village.

The whole time you grappled at your father’s hand as he pulled you along, ignoring your cries for mercy, your attempts at digging your bare heels into the muddy path no match for his strength. Luckily the village was quiet as most people were turning down for the night so your parade of shame went unnoticed. Only when your father dragged you up the steps of the church did you realise where you were being taken. “No! Please, father, the priest he’ll send me away to a nunnery, I need to stay here!” but your words fell on deaf ears.

With a large fist your father slammed open the heavy church doors and yanked you along the aisle only stopping to throw you down at the feet of the older priest who had come running from his office at the sound of your cries.

“What’s all this commotion?” the holy man bellowed. “My Father, apologies, but you see… my daughter…” he pointed to where you lay sprawled on your hands and knees in your mud caked nightdress, “she’s with child out of wedlock and I’m afraid for her eternal soul, my daughter is a fallen woman, she’s damned!” The shame in your father’s voice would surely stick with you forever. “Please help us! We don’t know what to do, she’s too far gone to remove it” your mother begged.

This couldn’t be happening. The way your parents spoke about you and your baby horrified you, they were your ma and pa, they were meant to protect you!

“Leave her with me” sounded out an all too familiar voice, one that had been playing non stop in your mind for months now. Sevika’s.

Your head snapped up from where you were hiding in shame, your eyes desperate to confirm your lover’s presence. Stood before you in a heavy black travelling coat, her expression composed and unreadable, was Sevika.

“The girl is a part of my congregation so I will deal with her” the certainty in her voice stabilised your racing mind. Here she was, your priest, here to save you and her unborn child from an unknown but certainly awful fate.

“You’ve only just returned Father, I can see to arrangements for the girl myself. Rest, please” the older priest assured Sevika but she wasn’t to be budged. “No I shall see to this now, it’s my duty to protect all of my flock, even those silly girls who get themselves in trouble like this. Sevika approached you and pulled you to your feet, her warm calloused hand wrapped around your arm.

You did everything in your power to avoid jumping into her arms, even though you wanted nothing more than to embrace the older woman. Your parents weren’t to know the truth lest your plan fail.

With her charming charisma, Sevika convinced your parents to return home and the older priest to head back to his own accommodation before leaving the village in the morning.

After they had left, she silently led you back to her own cottage, not far from the church. You’d never even stepped foot inside her house despite all the nights spent together, your union was something more taboo and hidden, something not done in the comfort of a home. It was quaint and well maintained, exactly what you’d expect from a member of the clergy. She led you up the stairs, past modestly decorated rooms and into the bathroom. “Wait here” she spoke for the first time since leaving the church. You obeyed and stood in the tiled room waiting for her return.

Sevika wasn’t gone long, returning with a tub of warm water which she poured into the bath. She repeated this several times over until the water filled the copper tub. Then she fetched a wooden stool and instructed you to sit. “Let me get a look at you my mousey” she pulled your stained nightdress from your exhausted body, leaving you naked.

Her shaking hands went straight to your pregnant belly and you watched as her breath faltered as she caressed the skin. “It- it took…” she muttered. Then, as if your child knew its other mother was nearby they let out small fluttering kicks in excitement. Shocked at the peculiar sensation, Sevika laughed as she spoke to your bump “Hello little thing, mummas here now”. Suddenly she pulled you into her arms and embraced you, her hands grabbed tightly at you as if to stop you from slipping away from her.

Your lover spent the evening bathing you and bandaging up your wounds from where your father hand dragged you through the streets. Each bruise was kissed, each cut cleaned and dressed.

She explained her absence for the last few months, the senior church officials had called for her help in the city and she was forced to leave without being able to send word to you. During the whole affair she’d been thinking of you and the possibility you were with her child, everyday she prayed for your safety. Her calling came first however and she couldn’t return when she’d hoped to around your 5 month mark, assuming that you’d be starting to show and were at risk of being found out.

As she explained all this you cried, uncontrollable tears fell down your cheeks and for what felt like the first time Sevika looked at you with a real understanding and you knew everything was going to be alright.

That night Sevika took you to her bed and with another first she made love to you that night. The older woman laid you down in her plush bed and worshiped every inch of your aching body, she massaged and kissed you, whispered sweet nothings into your bump, and took away every worry or nightmare from the months before.

As her thick cock opened you up for her from behind she held onto your swollen tummy with both hands, momentarily elevating the heavy burden of carrying her child. “That’s it my sweet mousey let me hold them now, you’ve done such a good job carrying my child, I’m so proud of you.” Her words made you melt into her sheets, your hips opening up wider as your knees spread further, your arse perfectly presented for her viewing pleasure.

After months of pent up frustrations it didn’t take either one of you long to cum, Sevika pumping her fertile seed into your already bred womb, your pussy milking her cock, squeezing her as your orgasm overtook you. Sevika’s heavy body collapsed against you yet she was careful not to rest her full weight on you, so cautious not to hurt the baby. As she came down from her high she nosed at your neck, peppering kisses along the skin, her softening cock still warm inside you. “My soft sweet mousey. You’re so full and round with me, I’m going to keep you this way, always. Everyone will know you’re mine” as she spoke her wondering hands caressed your swollen tummy with reverence.

Gently, Sevika rolled you over, supporting your aching back with plush pillows. Then she sat back on her heels and took in the sight of your mussed hair, flushed cheeks and dazed smile. A lustful spark in her eye told you she was nowhere near done with you yet…

Once again her large hands wondered down your body, stroking and massaging your flesh. The sensation of her calloused hands, rough and strong against your delicate skin had your pussy tingling again, God how you’d missed this… maybe you really were a whore after all?

Sevika traced her way down, lying on her stomach, boobs squished on the bedsheets, with her face so so close to your core. Her strong arms looped around your legs and pulled you closer before one finger tickled up your inner thigh and caught a drop of her thick cum that was slowly dripping from your leaking hole. In one swift movement she was hovering over you bringing her cum covered finger to your lips. Naturally your mouth fell open as she muttered “take your holy communion like a good girl… that’s it…” your tongue wrapping around the digit and sucking her salty essence off.

Your priest groaned as you sucked her finger clean, taking her right down your throat till you gagged, her eyes lighting up as she watched you struggle.

Some lustful demon must have taken over the holy woman’s body as without a second thought she returned to her place in between your legs mumbling to herself “need a taste” as she pulled you towards her mouth.

Before you knew it Sevika was licking and sucking at your clit, rubbing your hard nub between her lips as she flicked the sensitive skin.

Overstimulated after your first orgasm in months your hips bucked and you whined pathetically, trying desperately to escape her skilled mouth however she wouldn’t let you get far. “Now now mousey, behave for me” her words spoken into the plush flesh of your thigh.

You tried your best to stay still as Sevika worked lower, her large tongue probing at your entrance and tracing the puffy skin lightly. Then she used her expert muscle to lap and tease into your hole, collecting her own cum from inside you. The vibrations of her moans pulsed through your pussy causing you to grab onto her thick dark hair and ride her large nose closer to a second orgasm. Her hands gripped at your thighs, holding you tightly against her face, there was no way you were going anywhere until she had satiated her hunger for you.

Sevika pulled two more orgasms from you that night, only stopping when you begged her to leave your swollen clit be. You both fell asleep with her wrapped around your body, her hands holding onto your bump, softly stroking your bare skin as she drifted off.

[dopedyk]

going on a date with sevika !

𑣲men and minors dni !!

shy!sevika, mentions of smoking & drinking, age gap (23/40), head, intox, established relationship, mommy k1nk

a/n: happy birthday sev! from your gf (。///。)

"mm this place is so nice, you picked perfect baby!" you chirp from the rim of your wine glass. sevika grunts, a small smirk playing at her lips,

"it's fine. won't let me smoke my cigar in here." she chuckles at the way you roll your eyes at her half-complaint.

"oh hush," you rub her leg with your foot under the table, "you know you like this place!"

sevika becomes flustered at the feeling of your foot grazing along her shin. a small laugh escapes her which is quickly covered up by a long sip from her own drink. you notice how futile her effort to hide her flustered reaction is; she's so cute like this!

maybe it's the rum, but sevika can't stop thinking about how beautiful you are. how even though she's over ten years your senior she's like putty in your hands. completely wrapped around your finger, always at your disposal.

something washes over her. something carnal. sevika wants needs you now. her stomach drops at the idea of you crawling under the table to slowly eat her pussy, forcing her to mask her throaty moans. how she would grind hard against your face, so hopelessly chasing her orgasm. something you'd deny her of until you get home. oh, how'd she'd love to be squirming—

"what?" your clueless voice snaps sevika from her perverted thoughts.

"o-oh, nothing. just thinking."

“i’m going to fuck you silly when we get home." you deadpan. sevika chokes on her drink, her eyes wide as she looks around hoping no one heard you. did you read her mind?

"babe! you-you can't talk like that, uh, here..." sevika bites her lip, pressing her legs together...your sudden utterance sending a wave of need through her body and straight to her pussy.

"hm? but don't you want me to fuck you?" you pout, not really lowering your voice. "tell me, sevvy. what do you want me to do with you tonight?" under the table, you return to slowly rubbing your foot against her now restless leg.

"i, uh..." sevika takes a pensive sip of her dark n stormy.

a wicked grin spreads across your warm face, "yea keep drinking, hun. maybe you'll loosen up. be able to tell me all the ways you want me to wreck you."

sevika gasps, her glass coming down hard. resting her hands on the table she clasps them together, rolling one thumb over the other. "i would.. um, love that baby... for you to, to wreck me." the last few words come out as a whisper, but you heard her perfectly fine.

"oh, my sweet sev!" you coo reaching your hand to rest on hers, "what else do you want?" you slide her drink over. sevika grabs it, gulping down the rest of it, with a sloppy anxious grin.

"i've been needy for you all night. c-can we get out of here please?"

₊ ⊹⚢  ₊ ݁.˚࿔

after dinner, you guide your drunken girlfriend into an uber. her large body like lead, but even in her slurred state she manages to be mobile enough so it's not impossible to get her in the car. the ride back, the driver tries to invoke casual small talk which is pointless; neither you nor sevika can fully pay attention.

sevika guides your hand to her crotch, slightly rolling into your hand. her chest heaves with each soft huff as her body writhes subtly. she shoots you a doe eyed look.

"sir, how much longer?" sevika asks in the midst of one of the driver's pointless questions. looking pissed the driver mumbles,

"like five minutes."

"sorry about her," you give sevika a 'be patient' look, "she's drunk. it's been a long night."

"y-yea! sorry." sevika continues to gnaw at her lip, still humping against you. the next five minutes feel like hours for sevika, but you? you savor every second of it. you've never seen her so horny, you wanted to see how much you can pull out of her before she breaks.

you make sure to tip the driver extra as an apology.

as soon as the two of you make it in the door to sevika's place, you slam her against the front door, grabbing her collar and kissing her roughly. sevika moans at the unexpected force trembling into your kiss, her hands groping any part of your body they could find. she tastes like liquor and smells woody and sweet. her towering frame shudders beneath you.

"mm, look at how i have you," your voice deep and guttural, "like a bitch in heat."

sevika whimpers, dragging you to the stairs, taking off her clothes. "i need you baby, i really fucking need you."

you follow her lead, "so bold tonight, sev. i don't even have to take your clothes off..."

once in her room, sevika is down to nothing but her lace panties. you push her on the bed. "show me." you gesture to her heat. sevika peels her panties to the side, her slick creating strings between the fabric and herself. her throbbing clit buzzes at the center, like a beacon of hope. you craw onto the bed getting close enough to feel the heat of her arousal waving off of her cunt.

you take two fingers, rubbing gentle circles around the nub. sevika mewls deeply her hips moving like liquid against your touch. her slick gathers at the base of your fingertips; the heavenly sound of her wet pussy like music to your ears.

"you're so wet sev, been waiting all night for me?"

"mmh! yes mommy~ all night!" sevika chokes out, "please–ah! i-i wanna feel your tongue o-mmm~on my pussy!" the way you move your fingers so expertly over her is driving her insane, still sevika's always been a greedy girl.

you lay your tongue flat on her, licking slow large circles around her clit periodically using the tip of your tongue to tease her further. you reach out a hand to grope her tits, her nipples hardening at your touch. sevika pushes your head down, unabashedly using your face however she wants.

she's held back enough tonight.

your tongue continues to work magic on her body as you lap at her dripping pussy, licking up every drop of her juices. drawing zigzags against her cunt, you hum against her mound causing her legs to shoot up and her body to freeze.

"oh my god." sevika screams out, clenching your hair almost too hard, her moans stop abruptly an intense silence ensuing. her body shakes against you, a small wanton sound escapes her chest.

suddenly her voice loudly breaks, a rough desperate whine erupting out of her. her hips grind harshly against your face; a mindless action fueled by pure erotic need. after a few moments of riding out her orgasm, sevika's body goes limp against you.

"all done baby?" you perk up from your post, sevika's chest heaves as she lolls her head to the side.

"mmhm. so good mommy."

you grin, proud. "now rest up, sevvy. i love you."

[lunesiprincesa]

When it comes to Emma's view of her growing relationship with Brendon, I often think about how being the only daughter in a Caribbean household might affect her.

Like yes, she is conflicted because she's a Black woman attracted to a white dude with more societal power. If we think about her pride as a Caribbean woman, part of her reluctance will also because she was afraid that Brendon wouldn't blend well with her family, and how people might perceive her, the way they perceive BIWOCs who date white men.

What would her mama think of her? Is it disappointing that she's aligning herself with the people that harmed her family? It is her obligation to preserve her culture, it is her dignity and pride, but would she be able to do it while dating a white man? Would he frown and scoff at her cultural food? Or is he going to be nice to her, then shows his true colors later on? Is being with him going to negate her identity as an afro-caribbean woman?

I think the big part of her issues with dating him, will be her pride as Afro-Caribbean. She didn't want him to take that away from her. And what makes it more daunting, this isn't something Brendon can fix, and it'd drive him insane that Emma is struggling with something he can't kiss better, or pay away.

This is a journey Emma has to take on her own.

[lunesiprincesa]

hey just a heads up, if you are not a lesbian, labels like femme or high femme are not for you!! they're lesbian exclusive. femme/butch are sociopolitical identities exclusive to lesbians. !! (sorry if this isn't super nice, nothing personal, I'm a femme lesbian myself and just SO FED UP with non lesbians watering down lesbian identities)

Hey so, you're wrong. I've discussed this in my main blog @essiebitssie if you're curious on my stance on this. But I will not be debating my femmeness as BIPOC and someone who doesn't follow your eurocolonial-anglocentric gender and sexuality framework. You are free to block me.

Frankly, I don't even need to explain myself to you. You and people like you, are gonna have to pry my femmeness out of my dying hands, peel it off my decaying skin, and yank it out of my rotten heart, before you can get me to let my identity go. Or at least you can try, many had. But it certainly won't be by sending micro-aggressive ask, based on racist and transphobic history.

To quote myself in a comment I sent to another person regarding this using my main blog:

So you're wrong on that regard. The inclusion of non-lesbian butches WAS the norm. Butch and femme was a term mainly used in BIPOC ballroom and immigrant house parties pre-40s bar culture. This was then co-opted by a lot of white lesbians (that at the time also includes bisexual folks). When the lesbian separation happened, that's how the re-writing of this history happened. Any butchfemmes that are bisexuals, BIPOCs, and trans were kicked out of the community. This was talked about in Stone Butch Blues, in Butch Queens Up in Pumps, in the Gold Leather book (that many lesbian butchfemmes swears by but also refuse to contextualize). Ik that you probably won't believe me and continue on with your misinformation, which is fine. This is for everyone else that might read this, that are more open and willing to pick up these books and do their own research

[lunesiprincesa]

I mean, if it's so hard for you to write babyshark, why do it?

Cuz I want to?? Because even if it's hard, the ship still fascinates me? The dynamic is enjoyable for me? Idk where this assumption came from, that if I find something hard or if I dislike something, then I shouldn't do it?

At times like this, I like to defer to R.F. Kuang, where she said that writing is supposed to be hard, even when it's a story you wanna tell. It's supposed to challenge you and your worldview. Obviously I'm not a renowned author like her, but I apply the same logic to any of my writings.

And.. idk, I journal about things (and persons) I dislike, so I already detangled my thoughts and figured out what I dislike about writing babyshark. It's really not as daunting as people make it out to be. To learn is to be challenged, and to be challenged is to evolve. Not rocket science yall.

[miss-oranje]

have u guys noticed the phenomenon that's like

- m/f ship between a nonblack man & a Black woman

- it's either canon (e.g. mel/jayce arcane, arthur/guinevere bbcmerlin) or entirely plausible (e.g. prism or coupé/robert dispatch)

- fanbase overwhelmingly pairs nb man off with another nb man and disengages from the Black woman character, shunting her into a background wise & sassy caretaker role (for which there is a name) or leaving her out of fanworks entirely

- fans who do this ^ claim it is an expression of love and admiration for the Black woman character, actually, bc the nb man (who may be her canonical partner) "can't handle all that" (he may be perfectly competent and engaged; she may be totally low maintenance; it has no bearing), she's just too wonderful (too much) and out of his league (lacking in flaws and interiority and fan appeal)

have we all observed this and can we see the multiple dimensions in which it is racist ☝️ i'm not bringing it up to make any beautiful fujos feel bad abt shipping this or that, just to ask for some consideration of what ppl are saying abt Black women when they make their excuses to each other. like you can just not make the excuses. yk?

[miss-oranje]

[lunesiprincesa]

John Gaius is looking real attractive right now

[lunesiprincesa]

whats your headcanon of Emma's childhood? Her relationship with her parents?

I can't say much about her dad, bcs I rarely make her being close with her dad. In my fics she's always raised by her mom and/or a group of women.

To me, she's definitely the type child that the aunts doted on. Even when she has her brothers, she's definitely the one they baby a lot.

[lunesiprincesa]

And if I suddenly get the epiphany for Sevika arcane x Emma Nolan, now what?

[lostlamblizzie]

:P

[venvslux]

lovin' you til i rust.

rust. by venvslux

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” “You said that already.” It was abrupt and jagged. She let the words sit before she looked away. “I'm sorry. That was- sorry, that was rude.” For once, and possibly to her therapist’s delight, she didn't say it was alright. She didn't give a man a chance to think it was okay to be rude to her. A small triumph for a recovering people pleaser. She stood to her feet then. “Well, I'll leave you to your thoughts. I -” she tried not to repeat herself. “A patient I had grown close with passed away today. He had a string of surgeries - a total knee replacement, a hip reconstruction, and an ankle fusion due to a complex break. Not all in one day. But we'd grown close. I really got to know him.” Slowly, she sat back down. “What was he like?”

read the rest on archive of our own. 💌

[darwinsleastfavourite]

(This may be incoherent because I’m in a flare-up but that means it’s time for comfort re-read)

My god, Harrow and Gideon are messed up.

They hated each other growing up. They were the only people in each other’s age group, and who knew all the things going on. They didn’t know how to express their mutual frustration with the Ninth’s cruelties except through violence, directed at each other because they both represent something the other couldn’t stand.

But if it was only hatred, there were few reasons to prevent Gideon escaping 87 times. They probably could have negotiated her not spilling the Big Ninth Secrets, the way Harrow was intending with her commission.

So consider that, especially in relation to the later “you were my whipping girl, I hurt you because it was a relief”, Harrow found it hard to let go because she has literally never known life without Gideon. She did not have anywhere else to put all the grief and trauma from her childhood. I need you to remember she is a ripe seventeen years old here, and secretly hallucinating the entire time. She was probably, on some level, scared of losing the only constant she’s ever had. It is brutal, and bloody, and neither she nor Gideon have ever had a loving relationship model/experience to compare it to. The “I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it” thing is romantic in one light and actually deeply fucked up in another. Because it’s true. Harrow needed that anchor to survive. Even when she hated Gideon’s guts, that was a tangible thing in the non-stop chaos.

They’re not enemies-to-friends-to-lovers. They’re something so much worse ❤️

[ghostlysleuth]

teddy on the job

[lunesiprincesa]

I think my biggest issue with Emma Nolan's character, is that she is a Black woman who is sweet and earnest and quick-witted, a character that Laëtitia herself said she doubted she'd be able to play as a Black woman. Then you found out they made her canonically raised by her white grandmother.

Yes, because obviously no Black woman would be like her if she was raised by her Black community. Obviously she needs to be raised by a white woman and that's why she's so likable.

Always had my gripe with characters of color that's vaguely written as half-white, bcs you'd have all these fics (not just babyshark, but all her other fics with other pairing), where her culture can just be easily erased bcs she was raised by white parent! How convenient, right?

There's an opportunity to make both of her parents afro-Caribbean and/or mixed in the fics, and navigate her childhood through that lense. But obviously that's not as easy as just writing her getting plowed by white men 🤷🏽‍♀️

[totalnerd27]

It really is so upsetting. The idea of Emma being raised in a Black immigrant family in Michigan made me feel so represented, being a Black American from Michigan whose grandparents are both second gen immigrants.

But no.

A Black girl can’t just be nice. She has to be in a White environment to JUSTIFY her being nice.

Noah Wyle, you WILL feel my wrath.

[nubivagant-storm]

SUMMARY: Brendon Park being a bit oblivious when it comes to the differences between him and Emma

PAIRING: Brendon Park x Emma Nolan

CONTENT: established relationship, privilege gap, misunderstanding

NOTES: Not sure what started the argument or how it concluded but here's a snippet of the middle

“You think all of this is free? I don’t think you realize just how much I had to work for all of this.” Brendon bit out, gesturing at the luxury surrounding them.

Emma’s eyes went wide as she stared at him. “How hard you worked?” She breathed out harshly, fighting off the urge to laugh. Unable to believe those words came out of his mouth she pointer her finger at his chest. “You don’t think everyone wants to be a hot shot doctor like you? You think I just woke up and decided one day to be a nurse? No. I didn’t have a choice, Brendon.”

She watched as his eyes went wide and he took a half step back. Even so, it didn’t deter her from continuing. “It was nursing school or no school at all for me. Did you ever think of that?” She asked him. Genuinely curious for his answer. “I didn’t get the choice of medical school. It wasn’t even an idea for me. Unlike you I didn’t have a family willing to support all of dream. I was told to pick a realistic career.” She really did laugh then. A sharp, nasty thing that she knew would hurt.

“Emma—”

“Don’t.” She told him, shaking her head. “Every day I woke up after deciding what I wanted to do with my life, I was met with doubt. Unlike you, I’m not the face of medicine. People don’t look at me and trust that I know what I’m doing. So yea, you probably did work hard. But at least you had the world supporting you while you did.”