Haven't Login For A While 😅

Elizabeth 🤍🤺

I have nothing against Farcille, genuinely. But it's been very interesting seeing that a fandom mostly defined by a femslash ship for once can get just as brainwormed about their OTP to the point of ultimately and fundamentally misunderstanding/mischaracterizing the entire thing as any other fandom dominated by mslash.

got another HP commish of some young/newlywed malfoys aw yeh

no lucius you could not pull off a beard you would look like some kind of azkaban escapee could you even imagine 

(Xユーザーの100年さん: 「https://t.co/9aRts2YCH4」 / Xから)

❤️ for Jean/Kaeya please!

Thank you for the ask! <3 This got unintentionally long and unintentionally angsty--I went "why not cute teenage shenanigans?" and then thought about. uh. where Kaeya was at backstory-wise as an older teen--but I did have fun writing it!

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Kaeya's favorite part of Father's parties is probably the chance to see Jean and Diluc dance. It's not the only part he enjoys, but it's the best.

Whenever he gets tired of watching Father manipulate the politics of the Wine Guild, which in many ways are the politics of Mondstadt itself, Kaeya turns his gaze to the dance floor. Diluc and Jean are most often there, sweeping around and around, until they gather up food from the buffet and come to join him by the wall. Kaeya thinks that he *likes* dancing more than they do--but he, the adopted younger son, holds little interest to the sorts who come to these affairs, while both of them, heirs to the city's most powerful families, are much in demand. So they dance, with all the trained-in skill of nobility and all the athleticism of the Knights' best junior officers, and Kaeya watches.

They don't always dance with each other; that way lies rumors that they both find uncomfortable to have bandied about. They meet every three or four songs, though, both visibly relieved to be dancing with someone who won't invade their space or flash too much skin or stomp all over of their feet. Kaeya watches them spin each other around and basks in their relaxed smiles, admiring the confidence with which they move while partnered with someone they trust.

Confidence comes naturally to Diluc, with his early Vision and his subsequent strength and Father's praise and encouragement. It's more difficult for Jean. Kaeya has watched her hide her struggles, well enough that he doubts many people realize she's struggling at all. He's too familiar with keeping secrets, though, for someone with so honest a heart as Jean to conceal them from his gaze. So the confidence he sees in her now, back straight, standing tall, smiling at Diluc as fellow-captain and equal and no longer the junior struggling to be his match, makes him all the gladder. Fond warmth fills him as he studies her smile.

He watches them dance until the song ends, and then turns and starts making his way to the buffet table. He isn't hungry at the moment, but he will be later, and they'll be even more so. Another hour and people will be drunk enough that all three of them can sneak away to a back room and dissect the canapes together.

Before he can start to assemble a plate, though, there's a hand on his shoulder. Turning, Kaeya sees Jean behind him, bright-eyed and flushed with exertion, a light sweat making her skin seem to glow. She smiles at him, that same proud confidence, but even more eager.

"Kaeya! I haven't seen you all evening. Can I talk you into a dance?"

"A dance?" Kaeya stares at her, taken aback. "I was going to get us a plate."

"Diluc can do that for us this time. Please, Kaeya. Honor me with a dance."

Jean holds her hand out to him, but Kaeya still hesitates. Diluc has tried before to get him more dance partners, one way or another. If this is another such attempt--showing the would-be gold-diggers that he's worth Jean's attention, maybe--then he's not sure.... But he does like to dance. And Jean's eager smile is slipping away.

"Of course," he says, bowing over her hand in a deliberately silly exaggeration of Father's smooth gesture and smiling in satisfaction at her giggle. Then, her smile restored, he lets her lead him onto the dance floor.

The song just starting up is exactly his favorite sort: quick and energetic, accompanied by a dance that requires exactly the sort of precision and speed at which he excels. He knows it better than Jean, he quickly realizes, and shifts his grip on her hand and the lean of his body to guide her slightly without dragging her around, which he knows she hates, or stepping on her feet, which anyone would. Jean follows his lead with the same dedicated focus with which she's always followed Diluc's as a knight, determined to learn the same expertise. By the third chorus she no longer needs a guide, matching him exactly, step-by-step.

"You should dance more often," Jean tells him as they move into the last verse of the song. "You're truly very good at it."

"Only when I have such an inspiring partner," Kaeya ventures to tease her, and is rewarded when she giggles, promptly missing a step.

Catching herself, Jean falls back into the rhythm. She draws herself a little closer as the music fades, the two of them swirling to a stop. On the last step, though, she somehow trips on empty air, catching herself on Kaeya before she can fall.

They're in a shadowed corner, fortunately, out of sight of all but the closest couples, none of which are paying her misstep any heed. Kaeya puts his arms around her and takes her weight for a moment while she sorts herself out, trying to ignore the warmth of her pressed against him and the softness of her breasts against his chest. She's his friend; she deserves better than to feature in his inappropriate thoughts.

Instead of pushing away from him as she regains her balance, though, Jean leans closer, their face only inches apart. "I'd be happy to be your partner. Whenever you'd like," she whispers, and leans in. Her lips brush his, soft and warm and faintly sweet-scented from the perfume she's wearing, underlaid with familiar knightly sweat. Kaeya's heart seizes in his chest.

He's an idiot. She hadn't *tripped*.

For a moment he stands there, her lips against his and his arms around her waist, breathing in the scent of her, sweet cecilia and natural sweat. It isn't an inappropriate thought if she meant him to have it, right? She's so warm against him, all soft skin and well-honed muscle, and he thinks of her smile--confident, eager, relaxed--her little giggles, how easy both of them are to bring forth. He likes doing that. He *wants* to do that, as often as he's able. He's never realized that before.

Then, over her shoulder, he catches two familiar faces halfway across the ballroom. Diluc, paused in the act of filling a plate with canapes, smiling with far too much self-satisfaction for something he's not in the least involved in as he looks directly at them; beside him Father, at once calculating and indulgently pleased, following his gaze. Kaeya's stomach drops.

Both of them will feel betrayed enough, someday, when they find out what kind of traitor he is. He can't add Jean to their number. Straightening up, Kaeya lets go of her and pushes her gently back, hands on her shoulders as if to steady her, and makes himself smile politely down at her wounded expression.

"This was more than enough dancing for me. Diluc makes by far the better partner for you, anyway."

Jean swallows hard, her lip trembling, eyes damp with what Kaeya is terribly afraid are tears. Then she blinks, once, and draws herself up, covering it not with a false smile of her own but with a Gunnhildr's knightly composure.

"I understand. I will not trouble you to dance with me again."

She turns towards the table, starting that way, though from the side Kaeya can see her deliberately evading Diluc's now-confused gaze. He watches her go a moment longer, his resolve shaky. He's hurt her, and he didn't want to do that. He doesn't want to hurt anyone he loves.

But he doesn't have any choice in that. He never has. The only options were to break her heart now or later, and now is kinder, right? For them both. Kaeya turns away, heading blindly for the back rooms of the mansion, not to meet her and Diluc for canapes and casual conversation this time but to hide away until Jean leaves. And to try and forget the feeling of her mouth on his, the warmth of her lips still lingering upon his own.

Sometimes I think this fandom forgets that the Marauders and Snape are boomers. I just saw an "rip Lily Evans you would have loved Dolly Parton" post and like... Dolly Parton began her career in the 60s. Lily most definitely would have listened to "Jolene" as a 13 year old kid. And as a fanfic writer myself, I don't want to unnecessarily dunk on anyone's hard work, but it is a pet peeve of mine when I search for fics set in the Marauders era during the 1970s and the characters all sound like they are heavily involved in 2024 tumblr discourse. These kids would have never heard the term "genderfluid." They would call themselves transsexual or a butch dyke and there would be 212% more cigarette smoke, just everywhere. Fuck there was a designated smoking area at my boomer parents' high school for students and so long as the parents signed the permission slip the kids could go there and smoke. This was incredibly common (at least in American high schools) pre-1980s. Like, I can see the Evans family playing a game of lawn darts, Mr Evans with a beer in one hand, a cigarette in his mouth, throwing highly dangerous lawn darts that would eventually be recalled because of all the deaths it caused. Severus Snape had most certainly absorbed lead from the leaded paint in his house. Nobody was going to call the cops on any abuse they might see going on in the Snape's house because its the 1960/1970s and "how Mr. Snape disciplines his son is his business." War rationing had just ended 6 years before Snape, Lily, and the Marauders were born. Mental illness was extremely taboo, dyslexia wasn't really recognized in schools or talked about until the 1980s, after the Marauders had graduated, a lot of people were still calling PTSD "shell shock." For Muggles, there was no real DNA testing (it was in its infancy), no cellphones you had to pray there was a payphone nearby, and you wpuld talk to a telephone operator. It wasn't until 1966 that the UK switched to an all-digit telephone numbers. Before then instead of an area code it was a central office in every city/region that used letters. So if Lily, as a six year old girl, wanted to talk to her grandma in Manchester, her mother would have dialed something like MAN-9126 (I actually have no idea what Manchester's central office code was lol, this is just an example). Cokeworth is likely a Victorian mill town, and the major push to replace outdoor plumbing with indoor plumbing didn't start until the 1960s. Severus would have most likely spent his early years without indoor plumbing while living in a rowhouse built in the 1860s. Tubs would have had to be filled by hand, laundry scrubbed by hand and hung out to dry, he would have used an outdoor toilet and considering he is in a poor urban area he most likely would have shared this toilet with his neighbors in the other rowhouses.

These characters' story are shaped by the time they lived in, and sometimes I think the fandom doesn't realize how different the 1960s and 1970s really was.

rose of versailles (1972) illustrated by riyoko ikeda

second chances can only get you so far