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lifeofkaze · 16 hours

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Best 👏 ending 👏 ever 👏

The Stork, Obviously

This post inspired me to do something about my tomfoolery. It's not NSFW, but the conversation is about where babies come from and one of them is himbosexual. Make of that what you will. The matures are themes, my lord.

Sometime in April, 1995....

"Hey, Chridhe?"

Wendy leaned into the hallway, hanging off the bathroom doorframe with her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. "Where do muggle babies come from?"

At the exact moment, Ben's body apparently decided to try a different route with the bite of jelly donut he'd just taken. He erupted into coughs, spraying black coffee from his mug across the kitchen table top.

Ned, who had been sitting next to him filching bites of the pastry, scuttled off the table in a flurry of little claws for cover in his nest.

"Ye alrigh'?" Wendy called over the running sink water in the bathroom and reemerged to hurry down the hall.

"Hrrrrrgghhhhh..." The donut was well and truly lodged in his trachea.

He couldn't breathe.

He stood and slapped the table, sending cutlery flying. As if that would help dislodge it.

"Oh shite, no yer not!" Wendy scrambled to the mantle and grabbed her wand. "Accio donut chunk!"

The spell yanked the offending foodstuff out of his throat, across the room, and into her palm.

"Bleeegh..." Wendy held her hand out as far from herself as possible as she marched to the sink to wash. "Can ye breathe?"

Ben nodded, leaning over the table to gasp for air. He wiped his streaming eyes with a kitchen towel that was left on the back of a dining chair. When he could finally speak again, he coughed out, "What did you ask me?"

"Where do muggle babies come from?" She said, shaking her wet hands over the sink.

All he could do was stare at his young wife in shock. Standing there in the glory of domestic bliss, curly blue hair tousled, wearing one of his shirts that barely covered the lacey edge of her pretty black underwear, was Wendy Gordon. The smartest woman he knew. And, she was asking where babies came from.

"Wendy, darling... last night we--"

"Obviously, I know where wizard babies come from." She shot him a cheeky smile over her shoulder as she set about charming the dishware to fix herself a giant mug of tea.

He continued to stare at her in bafflement. Perhaps even more baffling than her question, however, was the sudden desire to throw her over his shoulder and march her back down the hallway to their bedroom.

She must have read his mind because she squinted at him playfully. "What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, sitting on the edge of the table and trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Ye think that's a stupid question, don't ye."

"I didn't say that."

Wendy studied him, using her mug to hide a flirty smile that made warmth bloom somewhere below his lungs.

"Stop it, Benjamin."

"Stop what?"

"Stop getting turned on when ye think I'm being dumb, ye weirdo!" She grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl behind her and chucked it at him.

The banana connected with his arm before he could grab his wand from the table. "It's endearing! I can't help it! Agh!" Another yellow fruit was lobbed at his head. This time, he sent it flying towards the couch with a wordless swish and flick.

Ned poked his glossy red head out from his basket on the windowsill over the sink and blinked beady eyes.

Wendy leaned conspiratorily towards the niffler, "I'm asking yer father a perfectly reasonable question--"

"Don't get him involved! It is NOT a reasonable question, Wendy." Ben threw up his hands, "My parents were muggles... Where do you think I came from?"

He really didn't want the involuntary image of his parents having intercourse on a Saturday morning. Or any morning, for that matter.

"The cabbage patch."

The response was so matter of fact, it made him blink, "The what?"

"Delivered by a stork." She scratched the niffler's head and gave it a kiss. The little creature purred happily.

"Muggles have sex, Wendy!" It would be mortifying if the neighbors heard that. They probably did.

"Aye, but only for fun, everyone knows that."

He spluttered, "N-no!... I mean, yes!... that too, but muggle babies come from the same place!" He wordlessly summoned the banana from the couch and chucked it back at his wife. His aim went wide and high, but she lunged to catch it without spilling so much as a drop of tea and returned it to the bowl in one fluid motion.

That was cool. Did that actually just make him blush?

"Mmmmmm..." she considered, then set the mug down and slunk towards the hallway again. "I don't think so." For emphasis, she poked him in the belly as she passed. Something about the look in her eyes made his brain go fuzzy.

That's it.

He dipped, grabbed her around the waist, and hefted her over his shoulder. To the bedroom with this deliciously insufferable woman.

She shrieked in delight but slapped his back hard, "Hang on, hang on, be careful!"

He set her back down. "What's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant."

#still laughing over here

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lifeofkaze · 1 day

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PSA: Unanswered asks aren't forgotten or ignored at all. Life is just... life rn. Sorry. 😬

#I'll get round to all of them #pinky promise

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lifeofkaze · 2 days

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And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the peak of knowledge + research = magic.

And also why I happily stay away from Charlie Weasley and dragons forever, because this right here is my holy grail and I couldn't do it better if I tried - which I obv don't.

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday! As you've written a fair bit about Charlie, I'm sure you've thought a lot about dragons by proxy. Are there any headcanons/ideas you have about dragons in your world (that Charlie is likely to talk about at length to people)? - @hphmmatthewluther

Well, look who is here asking me about things that I love to talk about. Dragons? Yes please. Charlie Weasley? Even more yes please.

So, I had a good think about dragons when it came to Learning to Fly. I’m a stickler to canon, so I knew I wanted them to be completely wild animals, but I needed to have Norbert(a) able to interact with Charlie. So, I based my “characterisation” of dragons on a few things, some of which made it into the story, some of which remained unpublished.

Until now.

I’m so sorry, you hit my nerdy/hyperfocus spot. This is such an essay of a response. I’m leaning into it with picture examples and everything…

Anatomy/Physiology

Firstly, I used birds as an inspiration. This is an obvious one, sort of. Generally, you have two different dragon appearances in recent western fantasy: either they have four legs plus a pair of wings or their wings are their front limbs. In the Harry Potter films, they use the latter. It’s less cute, but makes more sense in terms of them actually being able to fly.

All the terms I used to describe Norbert(a)’s body parts were anatomical terms for these body parts in birds, e.g. the keel. The keel is the breastbone, and in birds the muscles used for flight all attach here in order to keep the centre of gravity low on the body for flight. There are tendons that then extend up through a loop of bone and act as pulleys for their wings, the bones of which are actually very similar to our own arms, if you look closely.

As well as their flight mechanisms, birds have a bellows system of air sacs that I wanted to borrow for my dragons. Birds use these for respiration (think about oxygen at high altitudes during flight), but for my dragons, they have another purpose. Because, what else needs oxygen? What is it that dragons are most famous for? What is responsible for those burns on Charlie’s arms?

Fire.

I am not much of a reptile expert, so I didn’t take much in the way of inspiration from reptiles when writing about my dragons. I do, however, have the headcanon that, like all reptiles, dragons are cold-blooded. Most physiological adaptations have more than one purpose, and so, my dragons don’t just use fire for hunting and defence purposes — they use it to keep themselves warm. They produce the flames in their thorax, where there is a good oxygen supply and the blood can be warmed easily due the proximity to the heart, and the muscles and thick bone of the keel are able to protect it.

Behaviour

I used more elements of dog behaviour when writing Learning to Fly than anything else, for the simple reason that it is the animal body language I understand best and that I thought most readers would understand best. However, I would argue that dragons are far more like cat species than dogs in regard to their behaviour, so I included some cat-like tendencies as well.

Dogs are social creatures, and most of their behaviours have evolved in order to maintain order within a pack. They hunt in packs, roam in packs, raise offspring in packs. Other than lions, cats are usually solitary creatures, only joining together as adults to mate. There are exceptions, of course, but this is usually the rule. The same goes for dragons, from what we see in canon. Therefore, their behaviour will largely be based on avoiding conflict in order to avoid injury to themselves, and on solitary hunting. I did put this in with Norbert(a) — in one of the final chapters, she engages in play behaviour by mimicking hunting, like a cat.

I also took a lot of inspiration from orcas, mainly in respect to the ethical arguments surrounding their captivity. If you haven’t seen Blackfish, you should definitely do so. I headcanon dragons to be immensely powerful and intelligent beings with wide roaming ranges, who do not cope well in captivity. In canon, it is known that dragons are too dangerous to keep as pets, and judging by the treatment of the Gringotts dragon, the ones that are kept in captivity do not lead happy and fulfilled lives.

I have written several times that dragons kept in captivity suffer from severe impairments to their physical and emotional health, to the point that they have reduced length of life as well as quality of life compared to their wild counterparts. Most of that has been in the form of dialogue from Charlie.

Three guesses what is the thing he really won’t shut up about…

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lifeofkaze · 2 days

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There should be a fanfic writing game called the showrunners challenge where someone writes a story and partway through someone else can play things like "actor leaves after 4000 more words" or "topic now too politically sensitive due to unforeseen world events" or "lost rights to that reference"

#this sounds like the most unhinged thing I've ever heard #which automatically makes it also the most fun thing I've ever heard #so saving this for a rainy day

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lifeofkaze · 4 days

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OH SHIT

Is it World Building Wednesday already??

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lifeofkaze · 4 days

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You should be writing!

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but fantasising about writing won’t get your novel written!

Set aside some time today to sit down and actually write. No matter how short or long it is, just get something on the page. Do this today. Try it again tomorrow. You'll be surprised how quickly you start to make progress.

#actually can’t wait to get to it tonight #now I’m finally freeeeee

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lifeofkaze · 4 days

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Never getting over your Amortentias. Ever 🥺

Shoreside Conversations

A/N: @drinkyoursoupbitch’s idea to restart Worldbuiding Wednesday was one of her best yet (and she has many great ideas). It’s brought a little fun back into writing, and this little short story has been incredibly fun to work on. Based on this prompt from the First Lady of Soup herself:

Warnings: mild innuendo, severely bad lying.

The spring evening was light but cool, with the sky turning a rosy shade of pink and the crescent moon starting to rise before the sun had finished setting. Outside, a gentle breeze was blowing, but it couldn’t reach the interior of the seaside restaurant where, at a table by the window, three witches were chatting over a bottle of fizzy wine.

The wizarding community of Great Britain had been at peace for almost a year, but Artemis’ friend Penny had only recently returned to England, having escaped to France with her young family when the war first broke out. Penny had always been a social butterfly, and so neither Artemis nor Chiara had been surprised when she had invited them both for dinner at the Italian restaurant that had opened near her family’s beach house in Cornwall less than a week after she had come home.

”It’s just wonderful to see you two again,” Penny told the pair of them, almost breathless over the top of her wine glass. “I’ve really missed you both.”

“We’ve missed you, too.”

“So,” continued Penny. She had that all-too-familiar expression on her face, the one she always had whenever she was hunting for gossip. “What’s new with you?”

Artemis had never known Chiara to be the first in a group to speak up, so she volunteered up a piece of information about her life. “I’ve started a new job.”

“Another one?” Penny’s eyebrows shot up, but she quickly regained her composure. “I mean, that’s good. What are you doing now?”

“I’m a case investigator for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“And? Are you enjoying it?”

“Yeah.” Artemis nodded. “I am, actually.”

She was half-expecting Penny to ask her more questions — more personal questions, at that — but Penny had decided it was Chiara’s turn.

“What about you, Chiara? How is work? How are things with Jae?”

“Work is… busy,” said Chiara, her voice as soft and lilting as Artemis had always known it to be. “But, St Mungo’s have welcomed me back without kicking up a fuss about the whole” — she lowered her voice to the point that she almost mouthed the words — “werewolf issue.” Her lips pursed slightly before she spoke normally again. “And things with Jae are good. Never better, really. Actually, he asked me to marry him last weekend.”

Across the table, Artemis could see that Penny was almost vibrating with excitement.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Did you say yes?”

Chiara’s mouth curved into a shy smile. “I did.”

Artemis braced herself for Penny’s squeal just in time. A couple at the neighbouring table looked over, clearly concerned, and Artemis shrugged apologetically at them before congratulating Chiara. Penny, apparently too excited to sit still, rose from her chair and half-leapt around the perimeter of their own table to hug their friend. In her excitement, she knocked the handbag she had hung on the back of her chair, causing a tiny glass bottle to fall out of it.

Before anyone had a chance to catch the bottle, it plummeted to the ground and broke with a tiny, high-pitched smash. Immediately, the air was filled with a smell that was overpowering, intoxicating, and overwhelmingly pleasant. Artemis breathed in the scent, feeling both more relaxed and invigorated as she did so. Across the table, Penny’s blue eyes widened into circles and the colour rose in her cheeks.

“Oh, no. Oh, dear.”

“Don’t worry, Pen,” Artemis said. “If anything, the place smells much better now.”

It really did. Whatever had spilled out onto the floor smelt good, at once sweet and salty, smokey and earthy, and…

“Penny.” Chiara’s voice cut into Artemis’ thoughts. She had one palm placed to her nose, and above her hand her usually pale cheeks were flushed and her pupils fractionally dilated. “Is that what I think it is?”

Artemis had no clue what Chiara thought the little bottle had contained, but her suspicions were clearly correct, because Penny nodded her head sheepishly. Chiara sighed, though whether it was out of satisfaction or exasperation, Artemis couldn’t tell.

“Merlin, I haven’t smelt that since sixth year Potions class,” muttered Chiara.

Not having taken Potions classes past her fifth year, Artemis was still none the wiser. “What? What is it?”

“It’s Amortentia.”

“Amortentia?”

Penny shushed Artemis whilst looking over both shoulders.

“It really isn’t what it looks like,” she whispered. Artemis and Chiara exchanged glances.

“I think it matters more what it smells like, to be honest,” said Artemis. “What are you doing carrying a vial of Amortentia around in your handbag?”

“Well, technically it isn’t actually Amortentia. It’s a perfume made with Amortentia. They’re very popular in Paris, you know. I’m actually writing an article about it for the next edition of the S.O.U.P. Quarterly.”

“For the what quarterly?”

“The Society of Occupational Unctioneers and Potioneers. It’s for anyone who works in the potions industry, or in a line of work where potions are needed for use. Actually, Chiara, you may be interested in joining. We are always looking for new members, and…”

“And what about the Amortentia?”

“Oh, I’ve been asked to write a guest piece for the Society journal. It’s the first time, and I’m rather excited about it, actually,” Penny explained. “I thought the perfume would be really interesting to write about, seeing as it’s not such a common thing to see over here yet, but now that the war is over, I’m certain that it will become rather fashionable.” Her eyes had lit up. Perhaps it was because she was talking about her favourite subject, or it might have been the effect of the Amortentia on the floor. “How it works is, they put the Amortentia into the perfume, and when it’s worn it makes the wearer more… Well, you know, appealing.”

By the time Penny had finished talking, her cheeks were pinker than Artemis had ever seen them, and the couple at the next table were paying so much attention to one another that they hadn’t noticed the waiter who was trying to take their orders.

“I think it works, you know.”

The three witches looked across at the couple before silently giggling into their wine glasses.

“Maybe we should all start wearing it,” suggested Chiara. She was clearly joking, but Penny nodded in earnest.

“I have some samples I’m using for the article, you can have them when I’m finished.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“Don’t be silly, it’s no problem at all. I’ll just owl them to you. You too, Artemis.” Before Artemis could protest, Penny continued, “You’ll be glad of them once you meet someone.”

Artemis almost choked on her wine. She composed herself as best as she could before responding, “Yeah. Maybe. Thanks.”

She had assumed that her answer would be vague enough to not arouse attention, but it appeared that she had underestimated Penny Haywood.

“You’ve already met someone?”

“No,” Artemis said quickly. Too quickly.

“Oh, my goodness. Who?”

”No one.” When Penny pursed her lips in blatant disbelief, Artemis sighed. “No one that you’d know.”

“You never know, I might know them,” said Penny. She had a point, Artemis realised. Penny’s list of acquaintances was never-ending. “So, what’s his name?”

There was no way out of this, Artemis could tell. Still, she couldn’t help but scan the room looking for an exit. As her eyes wandered, they happened to land on the name badge of the waiter serving the neighbouring table.

“Mario.”

“Mario?”

”Yeah, Mario.” Artemis nodded definitely. “His name is Mario.”

Penny frowned. “I don’t think I know anyone called Mario. Is he someone you work with?”

“Yeah. Well, sort of,” Artemis corrected herself. Penny was bound to know one of her colleagues — or, if not, she would at least know someone else who did — and she wouldn’t have put it past her friend to ask others about Mario. “He’s a Magizoologist, but he doesn’t work for the Ministry. He lives abroad usually.”

That wasn’t entirely untruthful, and even Chiara seemed half-convinced. Artemis took a sip of wine in order to hide her face behind the glass.

“So, what does he look like?” asked Penny. “Tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Just your type, then.”

Artemis wrinkled her nose. “Is it?”

“Well, yes.” Penny laughed, but she still wasn’t finished with her interrogation. “So, how long have you been seeing him? Have you talked about the future yet? Are you worried about how it’s going to work out, what with him living abroad and you living here?”

The room suddenly felt very hot. Artemis shuffled in her seat, trying to quench her sudden need for movement. Her chest had tightened uncomfortably, but she hid the sensation by shaking her head and laughing.

“Calm down, Pen,” she said, as breezily as she could muster. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“I dunno. I guess I just don’t think the Mario thing is… It’s not very serious. At all. You don’t need to think too much about Mario. Forget I ever said anything about Mario.”

The look on Penny’s face made it clear that she was disappointed, but Chiara smiled gently.

“As long as you’re happy, Artemis,” she said. “That’s the main thing, isn’t it, Penny?”

”Oh, yes. Yes, as long as you’re happy.”

“Thanks.” Artemis put her glass down. “Anyway, Chiara, you’re going to have a wedding…”

It was the perfect distraction. Penny sat up so straight in her seat that her buttocks almost seemed to hover above it, and turned her attention wholly to Chiara. Artemis sat back in her own chair and let the other two women talk, letting the pitter-patter of conversation wash over her. It was familiar and warming to sit and chat with her friends, as long as she didn’t allow herself to think too much about the moments when Rowan would have said something wry and clever, or Tonks something witty and outrageous, if either of them had been there to say anything at all.

By the time she and her friends left the little seaside restaurant, Artemis’ head was fuzzy with the mixture of wine, Amortentia perfume, and thoughts of those who were and always would be missing. She Apparated back to Bill’s house, nestled in the dunes of another Cornish beach, and found Charlie sitting on the sand, setting fire to a small pile of driftwood without even using his wand.

“What are you doing?”

Charlie did not even look up from the driftwood. “I’m making a fire.”

“Without me?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back.” Charlie shrugged. “Do you want to grab some drinks and snacks, or have you had enough at dinner?”

Artemis probably had had enough, but she couldn’t see any harm in a little more. She snuck into the house and took a half-full bottle of Firewhiskey, two mugs, and a packet of marshmallows from the kitchen before returning to the beach. Charlie had succeeded in lighting his Muggle fire, and she sat beside him, watching the flames flicker against the indigo backdrop of the sky and sea.

“How were Penny and Chiara?” asked Charlie, as Artemis poured him a glass of Firewhiskey.

“Good.”

“And the dinner?”

“Tasty.” Artemis held out the marshmallows to Charlie in way of an offering, but he declined them with a wave of his hand. She pierced a marshmallow with her wand and held it over the fire, where the flames licked at the sides of it. “It felt strange, it just being the three of us.”

“I’ll bet.” Charlie glanced at her. “You want to talk about it?”

There wasn’t much more to say about it than that, so Artemis shook her head. Charlie nodded his own, and in silence, lay down on his back. Artemis kicked off her boots and let her bare toes dig into the sand.

“Oh, guess what? Jae and Chiara are getting married.”

Artemis had expected some sort of surprise or excitement from Charlie, but he gave her neither. Instead, he only said:

“So, he finally got around to asking her then?”

“Wait, you knew he was going to ask her?”

“Yeah, he’s been planning on it for months. He’s told me about it every time I’ve seen him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

Charlie shrugged. “It wasn’t my news to tell.”

“I guess that’s fair enough,” said Artemis. “Just so you know, if Jae mentions anything next time you see him, I have a new boyfriend called Mario.”

Slowly, Charlie lifted his head from the sand. He turned his face towards Artemis, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Penny asked me if I was seeing anyone,” Artemis explained. “And I told her I wasn’t, but she could tell I was lying—”

“Shocking.”

“— so I just told her I was going out with a guy called Mario.”

“Of course, that’s what anyone would do in that situation,” said Charlie, completely straight-faced. He propped himself up onto his elbows. “And what did you tell them about this Mario?”

“Not much, just that he is a Magizoologist and that he’s tall and good-looking.” Artemis glanced across at Charlie, who was looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “But it’s not anything serious.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Charlie blinked and shook his head. “And, they believed all of this…”

“I think so? I mean, I changed the subject pretty quickly. Penny was happy to talk about Chiara’s wedding and this soup club she’s joined.”

“A soup club? As in the food?”

“No, it’s for potion people. She’s writing an article about Amortentia for their journal and spilled some on the floor of the restaurant. You wouldn’t believe how much it smelt.”

“I would,” said Charlie. “I still remember when Jae made a cauldron full of the stuff in our dormitory in fifth year.”

“He made that in your dormitory?”

Charlie nodded. “Oh, yeah. Stunk the place out for weeks.”

“I mean, at least Amortentia smells good,” Artemis reasoned.

“True, but it did make for quite a few awkward mornings, if you know what I mean…”

In a way, Artemis wished she didn’t know what Charlie meant, but she couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face.

“What did you think it smelt like?” she asked him. “The Amortentia?”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a very personal question.”

“Good job that we are very personal friends.”

Artemis raised her eyebrows at Charlie, whose lips twitched and eyes looked out over the sea in the distance.

“A few different things, really,” he said. “Sort of like the garden back at home, and a bit like the air after bonfire night, though that might have been because of him setting the bottom of the cauldron on fire. And it smelt like Christmas.”

“Christmas?”

“Hmm. Like pine trees and… marzipan? It was very sweet and a bit nutty.” Charlie glanced at Artemis. “Yeah, it was nuts, alright.”

There was a look of mischief in his eyes that made Artemis roll her own. Charlie laughed softly to himself.

“And you?” he asked. “What did it smell like to you?”

Artemis frowned as she tried to remember the smell of the Amortentia, and found the scent easier to recall than she had thought it would be. It was as if the smell of the perfume had lingered in the air around her all the way back to Shell Cottage, but then, that might have been because of the salty breeze rolling in from the sea, the Firewhiskey in her glass, the leather of her boots discarded on the sand beside her, the marshmallow toasting on the end of her wand.

“I guess it sort of smelt like this.”

Charlie smiled, and Artemis popped her toasted marshmallow into her mouth before lying down on the sand beside him, face up towards the stars.

#the temptation to post a Super Mario gif was big #very big #but look at me pulling myself together

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lifeofkaze · 4 days

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Thank you for tagging @helenadurazzo and sorryf or keeping you waiting, oops.

I'm over 5'5 / I wear glasses or contacts / I have blonde hair / I often wear sweatshirts / I prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / I have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / I typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting boss face / i play sports/ I play an instrument / i know more than one language / I can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / I have never dated anyone / I have a best friend that I have known for over five years / I am an only child

thx for the tag @illarian-rambling !!

blue 4 yes, black 4 no :3

tagging : @theartsyswissapple @agirlandherquill @butchingdyke @capnmachete and all my other mutuals :3

blank under cut!!

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lifeofkaze · 5 days

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A/N: I don't think I've been this apprehensive to share a story in a long long time, and not (only) because it's a (mild) smut. I've spent months and months with Jaz, Leon and the crew but realised they've never been formally introduced to here so... be gentle with me them.

Infra-Red

Summary: In which Jaz and Leon get a little too distracted during an award show. Warning: This story contains explicit NSFW content. Anyone below the age of 18 or uncomfortable with this topic is advised not to interact.

Everyone's living in black and white We see each other in a different light That’s why I look at you like I do Like nobody else is even in the room

~ Three Days Grace - Infra-Red ~

Award shows were Jaz’s favourites.

There was just something about them - the colourful hustle and bustle, the tension and excitement, the sheer force of the emotions as prizes were handed out and tear-filled speeches were given on stage.

And then, there were the afterparties, of course; a chance for everyone to let down their hair without getting harassed by journalists. There usually was great music involved, free drinks, catching up with old friends and making new ones, the air abuzz with talent, inspiration and good vibes.

The particular award show the members of Equinox were currently headed to promised just that, and Jaz was fidgeting in her evening gown, impatient to finally get going. Jacques, the band’s stylist, tutted and slapped her hand away as she reached for the satin strap that had wandered up her shoulder.

“Stop that.” Giving her a disapproving look as he pulled the strap back into place. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Jaz glanced at herself in the floor-length mirror Jacques had set up. Self-consciously, she ran her hand over the shimmering red satin. “Is it really necessary to –”

“I spent an eternity sourcing this dress,” Jacques said sternly, brushing his hand almost reverently over the smooth fabric. “If you ruin this vision I created out of you, I’ll make you wear Primark for the rest of your miserable, unstylish life. Now stop complaining.”

“What’s wrong with Primark?”

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Jacques muttered, rubbing his temples and handing Jaz a bag that was so tiny she could hardly fit her phone, lipstick and a handful of hairpins in.

He ushered her out the door of the big townhouse in Kensington, belonging to Equinox’s manager and mentor Rich Cameron, to where the rest of the band was already waiting for their car to arrive.

Rich Cameron himself, dressed in a sharply tailored suit, was looking at his watch impatiently, typing something into his phone every now and again.

“About bloody time you got ready. I was about to go in there and get you out myself.”

“You can’t rush art,” Jacques said indignantly in Jaz’s stead, picking up his bag. He silently pointed at his eyes with one hand, then at Jaz but there was a gleam in his eyes as he blew them all a kiss and vanished into the brightly-lit London night.

Everett James, their band’s lead singer, raised his eyes from his phone and whistled audibly.

”Looking hot, Jaz.” He grinned at Leon, who stood next to him with an unreadable expression and elbowed him in the side. “I’m gonna need her standing next to me, that’s for sure.”

Leon mumbled something in return Jaz couldn’t hear and turned away, seemingly indifferent, but the appreciative flash in his eyes as he looked her up and down hadn’t been lost on Jaz. She knew that look. Warmth pooled in her stomach and she tried not to look at him further as they waited. She was going to have enough of it before the night was over.

Half an hour, two traffic jams and diversions and an almost-fit from Rich later, they finally arrived at the venue, the red carpet rolled out there flanked by rows of people clutching bulky, expensive-looking cameras. They began flashing as Mel stepped from their limousine first, sequins on her midnight blue suit rattling, and the screams and lights intensified when the whole ensemble finally posed side by side to have their picture taken.

Jaz embraced the hecticness, smiling at the photographers she soon wasn’t able to see from the blinding lights.

Next to her, Leon had casually shoved one hand into the pocket of his suit so that his stack of colourful bracelets was showing against his tanned skin, the other resting on the small of Jaz’s exposed back.

Her smile never faltered, but Jaz was aware of every point of skin Leon was touching with his fingers, a pleasant twist going through her stomach whenever he moved or adjusted his hand. He began tapping her skin, wandering them along her spine in movements too minuscule for anyone but her to notice. She shivered, her core pulling together. Fighting the urge to look at him, Jaz’s eyes and smile remained trained on the photographers documenting their every move, but she knew which look she’d find there if she did. The thought of his small, slightly crooked smile, which always made him look like he knew something no one else did, did nothing to make her body stop tingling.

They were about to head inside, already out of sight of the cameras, when Leon gently touched her arm.

Jaz obediently let herself fall back - subtly, so the others wouldn’t notice - and between two heartbeats, Leon bent down to her, his hot breath brushing her cheek as he whispered something into her ear. Then he was gone again, catching up to Mara, leaving Jaz to walk behind them with heat spreading from her stomach into the rest of her.

Their table was rather to the back of the room, further from the stage than Rich would have liked. He kept on complaining but Jaz didn’t mind the obscurity created by the spots directed at the front of the room. Mel was chatting to her about the results of last week’s football match - “Celtic should have gotten that penalty, I swear to bloody God!” - but Jaz couldn’t bring herself to do much more than nod every now and again. Beneath the table, Leon, who was sitting on her other side talking to Mara, had his leg pressed against hers, the heat coming off his body palpable despite the cool air streaming from the ventilation shafts. She could smell his aftershave, mixed with a subtle hint of the hairspray Jacques had used to give his hair the perfectly messed-up look that made Jaz want to run her hand through it. She was burning with impatience now, making her leg bounce up and down, causing even more friction between her and Leon.

Hadn’t she known better, she would've thought Leon hadn’t noticed her restlessness. He looked like nothing was amiss, the only indication of being aware of Jaz the shifting of his leg, brushing along the patch of bare skin accessible through the slit in her skirt, and the barely perceptible smirk he gave her when she tensed. Her leg bounced faster and she did her best not to squirm in her seat, biting her lip almost painfully to keep from gasping when he brought his hand to her thigh beneath the table and squeezed it tightly.

‘Go,’ his brief look at her seemed to say before he turned back to Mara again, and Jaz needn’t be told twice.

She raised herself from her seat and hastily left the table with a mumbled excuse. Even as she walked away, she could feel Leon’s eyes on her back. When she had left the increasingly bustling hall behind and entered the now quiet hallway, her phone buzzed in her handbag. She checked the message, looking left and right as she followed the short instructions on her screen.

Rounding a corner, even the last traces of activity ceased and Jaz was alone. A little further ahead, she could spot her destination but when she made her way to it, she found the door of the storage closet she’d been aiming at locked.

Well, shit.

Knowing that she couldn’t linger, Jaz unceremoniously plucked a pin from the elaborate updo Jacques had twisted her hair into and got to work. When Leon arrived a couple of minutes later, he was surprised to already find her waiting inside.

“I thought it’d be locked.”

“You sent me to a room you thought was locked?”

“Didn’t have much time studying the floor plan, did I?”

“I suppose not.” Jaz smiled innocently. “And it was locked.”

“Then how did you…”

She raised her hand with the hairpin still lodged between her index and middle finger. “Perks of living with Mel.”

“Do I really want to know?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

Jaz slipped from the small table she’d been sitting on and placed her hand on his chest. “On whether you came here for talking.”

Not wasting another word, Leon bent to kiss her. Their mouths met greedily, hungrily, his lips tasting of the champagne they’d been served at the table. Jaz sighed as his tongue slipped into her mouth, his hands moving from her waist to the exposed skin of her back. Their kiss deepening, Leon pushed her back against the table and she let him lift her upwards onto the tabletop again.

His tie was discarded as soon as it was loose enough, Leon’s shirt following soon after as Jaz unbuttoned it with flying fingers. Her fingers spanned the countless pictures inked into his skin for a moment, but she was soon distracted when Leon dipped his head to her throat, leaving a burning trail of kisses in his wake. She slung her arm around his neck, arching her back to meet him, both their breaths coming heavily.

When they locked lips again and Leon's fingers trailed from her spine up into her artfully arranged hair, Jaz was reluctant to have to pull away.

“Stop that,” she gasped, the sound turning into a barely subdued moan as Leon ran his finger along her temple and cheekbones, coming to rest on her lower lip.

“Why would I?”

“Because I can’t walk out of here looking like I just had a shag, can I?”

Leon hummed. “I like that look on you.”

Catching Leon’s hands still playing with her hair, she guided them to where the fabric of her dress parted at her thigh to allow more room for motion.

“I know other things your hands could do, though.”

With a mischievous smirk that made her core pull together, Leon slipped his hands beneath the cool satin and onto her burning skin. His hands were rough as they pushed the fabric upwards, spanning Jaz’s thighs with the exact amount of pressure that made her dip her head back in pleasure. She shuddered as Leon brought his mouth to her chest, tracing the outline of her breasts where the red satin of her dress began.

“I love this dress,” he murmured against her skin, making Jaz sigh, “but honestly, I’d prefer you out of it.”

Almost reluctantly, Jaz pulled away from him and hooked her fingers under the loops of his belt. “I thought you’d never get to the point.”

Leon laughed darkly, arms enveloping her as he kissed her again, more roughly than before. Jaz met his pace, blindly pulling his belt away and undoing his flies as he lifted her from the table and turned her around. She steadied herself against the wall with her hand, one foot set onto one of the boxes littering the floor. Leon was pressing against her from behind, the heat of him compensating for the chilly air hitting her skin as he pushed her dress further up and up.

“What’s that, drummer girl?” he murmured into her ear, his breath hot against her neck. “No underwear?”

She shot a teasing look over her shoulder even though her knees were close to buckling as Leon parted her legs with his hands and let them wander continuously higher. “Complaining, are we?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The grip on her shoulder tightened, and Jaz stifled a moan when he pushed inside of her. They had been doing this game for long enough to find their rhythm immediately, and it was all she could do not to cry out as Leon moved against her. The pace he set was quick, as much because of their shortage of time as of their mutual need, and Jaz did her best to match him. With every thrust she pushed herself against him, delighting in the friction she caused that way which made her head spin.

It wasn’t long before she felt the heat beginning to pool in her stomach, the familiar tingle beginning to grow. When she thought she couldn’t contain it any longer, Leon’s fingers dug into her skin, the ends of his hair brushing her collarbone as he buried his face against her neck, shuddering as he came. Jaz allowed herself to let go as well, fireworks exploding in front of her eyes as her high rolled over her. Clasping her hand in front of her mouth, she stifled the cry dropping from her lips.

Tension leaving her body, she let herself collapse onto the tabletop in front of her. After the long moment it took for her to find her bearings again, she propped herself onto her elbows, brushing one of the locks that had fallen from her updo after all from her face with shaky hands.

“You alright?”

Leon ran his hand down her spine but there was no fire behind the gesture anymore, only genuine concern at her prolonged silence. Laughing breathily, Jaz turned to him, brushing her skirt down as she did so.

“Never better.”

From beyond the door and down the hallway, the faint sound of clapping could be heard. Using the dusty mirror propped against the wall, Jaz quickly reapplied her lipstick and smoothed down her hair. When she was done, she studied Leon’s reflection behind her; his hair, which had been messy to begin with, was in even more of a state than before and there was a distinct red mark next to his mouth from her lipstick. Having tapped her face in the corresponding spot, he quickly wiped it off.

“It’s a good thing you always look like you just got out of bed anyway.”

Leon, in the process of buckling up his belt again, paused and raised one eyebrow at her. “I didn’t when I arrived here.”

Chuckling, Jaz stepped towards the door, purposefully brushing against Leon as she did so. She lingered there, laying one hand against his cheek and raising her chin as if to kiss him.

A look of surprise flickering over his face he leaned in, closing his eyes, but before their lips could touch, Jaz pulled away with a smirk.

“Five minutes,” she breathed, her words ghosting over his lips. “See you at the show.”

And with that, she slipped from the room, leaving Leon behind. Making sure that no one had seen her, she quickly smoothed down her dress and made her way back towards the venue.

When she reached their table, the opening show had just begun. Rich gave her a dark look as she took her seat and turned back to the stage. When his attention was elsewhere, Mel leaned in, whispering,

“Where have you fucking been?”

Jaz pursed her lips and shrugged. “Fucking somewhere else.”

“Say a word next time you choose to disappear into the nether,” Mel rolled her eyes. “Leon went to find you.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see him?”

The lie left her lips smoothly. “Not at all.”

“I bet he went to get something that makes this shit a little more fun,” Everett threw in from the other side of Mel. “He could have said something, at least. I would have joined him.”

Jaz bit the insides of her cheek. “No doubt about that.”

“Diversion can be found in the strangest of places, if you only look for them, my friend.”

Leon had appeared behind them, having come from the opposite entrance of the one Jaz had come through. His smile was level as he slipped into his seat but the way his lips twitched as his eyes grazed Jaz wasn’t lost on her.

Everett’s look seemed to say ‘I told you so’ but Jaz only sipped on her champagne, eyes pointedly trained at the stage. Trying not to smirk, she spun the hairpin Leon had pressed into her palm beneath the table between her fingers.

Award shows truly were her favourites.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As promised, I do deliver @drinkyoursoupbitch. Thank you @flareshin for being my favourite helpful artist friend.

#reblog from side #rockstarverse #kaze writes

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