#cobalt's art shit

[koneko013]

They are so adorable together!!

Love is in the air / In the whisper of the trees Love is in the air / In the thunder of the sea

@bewalkedi​ 💚❤️

[bearforceone3]

cobalt blue and dark flash designs because i finished waid’s flash run the other day

[the-interuniversal-geometer]

SKULL PLATE ITS DONE LOOK AT IT

[theazurebug]

being an artist is taking your antidepressants with paint water

[cobaltbluwu]

.... please dont re-post nokuhashi's art.... they litterally have it in their twitter bio that they do not want it re-posted... they even have a tumblr if you want to see it so badly....

[cobalt-punk]

.....

So i'm working on a thing and my boyfriend's nephew said the hair looked like a hairy, floating critter. So I added eyes...then a shitty bg.....

It's name is Fred.

[armoralor]

ART THEFT & AI IMAGES

Please use caution when reblogging Star Wars art, as many grifters have taken to stealing work and even generating AI images out of stolen commissions. Many of the most popular Star Wars tags are filled with computer generated images trained off the backs of hard working artists- please make sure you are supporting real content creators directly. A recent example is the account @mandalorianmochi, who continues to post stolen work with AI filters overtop:

On the left is the art I commissioned @cobaltbeam to draw (original here), and on the right is the stolen work with an AI filter overtop. You can even see Cobalt’s original signature blurred on the stolen image; not all theft is this obvious, so please try to check accounts before reblogging when possible. I will personally be blocking all accounts I see posting AI shit and hope most of the fandom will do the same, especially for the sake of our talented creators that deserve so much better.

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

EVERYONE LOOK AT SKI AND COBALT RIGHT NOW ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️

Alright I'll bite, here's the artfight attacks I did 🦀

@jils-things | averveevie | AkitaAyame_02 | @yawnbarn | @dwdoesarts | OrangeArtist

[propheticclown]

I need you all to understand. I've seen so many people talk about how Eridan would be slaying the fashion scene. How his fashion sense is awesome and epic, or whatever. NO! Firstly, I wanna preface this by saying that Pesterquest falls under the category of "Dubiously Canon." so his massive closet isn't actually canon. But secondly, LOOK AT HIS FUCKING FIT, MY GUY!

THE DEEP BLUE WITH THE PURPLE??? THE CAPE??? THE HAIR??? BROOOOOTHER!!! THEY EVEN CHANGED THE COLORS OF HIS SCARF AND PANTS TO LOOK BETTER IN PESTERQUEST!

It's subtle but the color shifts towards indigo/cobalt rather than royal blue. "B-But what about March Eridan? March Eridan looks good and is canon!" I don't know how brainrotted you are from buying all your clothes from shien (derogatory) and temu (derogatory) to think that March Eridan looks good, but let me just show you what it looks like again to refresh your memory.

Ignoring the insanity that's even happening with this image in the first place, this IS the Original March Eridan image. Now let me tell you why this fit is more atrocious than Kankri Vantas' takes on feminism. 1. THE COLORS DO NOT WORK!!! His VIOLET symbol combined with MAGENTA arm warmers and thigh highs and a RED SKIRT???? AUUHHG NONE OF THESE COLORS LOOK AESTHETICALLY PLEASING TOGETHER IN A FASHION SENSE!!! NAME ONE TIME RED AND PURPLE HAVE EVER LOOKED GOOD TOGETHER IN TERMS OF FASHION??? 2. STRIPES AND FUCKING PLAID??? WHAT??? IN CARTOONS, MUSIC, BOOKS, AND EVEN FUCKING GAMES, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH "Ew stripes and plaid." IS SAID??? THAT IS LIKE THE NUMBER 1 NONO IN ANY FASHION WORLD!!! 3. AND WHILE THIS ONE IS A BIT OF A STRETCH, THERE IS NO CONVINCING ME THAT ERIDAN AMPORA WOULD WILLINGLY WEAR THIS SHIT! IT JUST DOES NOT MAKE SENSE FOR HIS CHARACTER TO WEAR THIS OUTFIT! FASHION IS A WAY OF EXPRESSING ONESELVES! FASHION, AS A MEDIUM OF ART, IS A WAY A PERSON CAN EXPRESS HOW THEY FEEL ON THE INSIDE! March Eridan as an outfit, artistically expresses confidence, empowerment and a general "I'm a bad bitch you can't kill me" energy. Here's the problem. Eridan at his base components is envious, closed off, emotionally volatile, and a massive fucking nerd, which the old outfit actually does express.

His clothes are long-sleeved, showing the least possible amount of skin he can, which usually can represent being closed off. His cape is large and grandiose, showing that he likes to be exaggerated and theatrical. His scarf indicates his nerdiness, with it being a reference to Harry Potter and how it could be a tie-back to his nerdy love of wizards. The only other outfit he's shown wearing is with a flashback to when he and Vriska were a kismesis.

Here the outfit, even with as little as we see of it, is big and intense. Unlike Vriska, who essentially doesn't change outfits, Eridan puts time and effort into each theatrical performance he considers himself to be a part of. He adores intricate and exaggerated outfits. Things that are fancy, complex, and over-the-top. So that even though he doesn't feel great on the inside, even though he feels as though he's "wworse than evverybody. all the bodies." He can still look well put together. And that's WHY I don't think March Eridan as an outfit works. It's too casual for him. It's not big or flashy in a way he likes. There's not enough for him. It doesn't cover him up and because of that, he'd feel exposed. He's not closed off anymore. It doesn't exude "Eridan Ampora". Who's "most casual" piece of apparel is probably a sweater vest.

Even in the original image, he looks uncomfortable, like he doesn't actually LIKE wearing it. The only way I can find this artistically working from a writing standpoint is if Kanaya made it for him because, in the story, it is shown time and time again that Kanaya doesn't understand Eridan, so by making him this outfit, she'd take it a step further by not even understanding what he likes. Kanaya doesn't understand that Eridan is terrified of being culled, because Kanaya doesn't have to worry about that. Kanaya doesn't understand the pressures Alternian society is forcing upon him, as an Orphaner. Because Kanaya's only societal expectation is raising the new mother grub. Kanaya doesn't think about how he's most likely going to live the longest out of all his friends. Eridan has the second highest lifespan out of every troll blood color, but even then with Feferi, she's most likely going to get culled by the Condense when she's the proper age to inherit the throne. So in Eridan's mind, he's going to be alone, expected to be an Orphaner until the day he dies, utterly alone to feed Feferi's lusus until he eventually succumbs to old age or dies in war. That's why he's so closed off, yet so emotionally grand. That's why March Eridan doesn't suit him from a fashion-artistic standpoint. It's not what Eridan Ampora embodies as a character. Envy.

[qvrcll]

spider boy, king of thieves.

ART CREDITS > @/J7VUA on twitter

re2r ! spider-man ! leon kennedy x gn reader

summary: in danger, you’re left with clouded eyes and brandished limbs littered with bruises. that is, until, a certain person coloured in red comes to the rescue, cuing your awe and possibly an inkling of a certain feeling.

warning: mentions of kidnapping, bruises, heights

a/n: i’ve been having the thought of rookie ! re2r leon x spider-man in my mind for soo long and this fanart basically catalysed this blurb. i’m thinking of writing a part 2 or perhaps another post, but idk! lmk lovelies :)

When you’d first opened your eyes, a stinging sort of pain had clouded your judgement of the situation. Your arms were caked with gruelling blood and dirt, your eyelids heavy with a pending urge to lay down and exhaust yourself into a deep sleep.

But the sky had gone gray, glittering with a crackling noise that shook the ground; only then did you realise you were outdoors. Cold, clothes possibly ripped to some degree. And the feeling of aversion had done its business pressing into you.

“S-Shit…” you cursed, jumbled in the mess that was, for once, not of your making. Much energy had been spent trying to free yourself of your tight reigns, ropes that bound your wrists till they bled nothing but hurt. Your eyes burned with weak tears, distorting the plain of captivity.

You’d been kidnapped — and worse, there was no end point in sight.

Fuck, you think.

This is it, you think.

This is how I die, you think.

And when you feel the cold press of rain hit your head, pounding to no impending relief at all, warm arms scoop you into a strong, selfishly mellow grasp so thin you might break.

“I got you,” A masculine voice speaks. It’s so seemingly far away, but when you reopen your eyes, you’re met with two large whites for eyes and a tepid, red suit.

And then it computes… spider-man?

“I—“ You start, unresolved with your conflict, but remaining confused with your thoughts.

Is this reality? Were you being saved by the spider-man?

“You okay?” he whispers through the mask, webbing through nervous buildings, arms clinching around you like gold.

He glances down once more, and the mystery makes him alluring, kind to the mind but grievous to your curiosity. You want to peel the mask, when he places you down on your balcony, safe from harm’s way. You want to know who is hiding within that mellow suit, donned with bravery and boyish charm so new it hurts.

“Wait—“ you stop him by the wrist. He glances back, surprised. His face twitches when you come close - “I won’t force you to reveal yourself,” you whisper, reassuring, before sweetly placing a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s for saving me,” his hand feels the area you’d just kiss like it had changed his life and you giggle. He stifles a chuckle and takes your hand softly, fleshing it with a kiss so soft it burnt.

As he retreats, with words of stay safe and take care’s, you’re left clutching the railing for dear life as he departs with a final swing.

What you don’t catch is that he’s landed on the balcony three floors underneath you, wrenching the mask from his head to free his head of blonde hairs — and he, with his flushed cheeks and eyes of cobalt, seems to comparable to the newest recruit in the Raccoon City Police Department, Leon Kennedy.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[thatonesimp-e]

ABT ME!!!!

hi! I'm Dragon! I use any pronouns (they/them Spy/Spyself or Archimedes/birdself preferred!)

I am a minor so please don't be weird,,

I kin fictional characters like Scout, Spy and Engineer! they're so silly and I relate to them both on a whole other level (hence the Spyself xenopronoun :3 )

I present myself with two personas! Cobalt, a silly werewolf who has some serious shit going on, and Dragon, the charismatic creature I often use on my youtube!

BE PATIENT WITH ME I HAVE ANXIETY/AUTISM AND IT MAKES IT HARD TO COMMUNICATE SOMETIMES!!

I adore anything tf2 or object show related! I also love old windows graphics very much!

I rlly like werewolves,,, they're so silly!!

I post stuff that could be overstimulating/overwhelming to some people. (ex. gore, possibly suggestive art, scopophobia, etc..)

I live off of blinkies and this is my first time making a serious about me so please don't hate

[koneko013]

OMG, look out! The flying Dutchman's werewolf fangs are made for chewing off catgirl flesh and bones!

Dutchie.

[cobaltbeam]

For a while I'd just see ur art in passing but never follow bc I was like 'what if I have to interact I don't wanna just lurk in ur posts and reblog then run away'

But I was literally scrolling thru the Clone Wars tag and kept seeing ur art and going 'Oh shit this is fire who made this- COBALT??? (/pos)'

Legitimately I was like 'Cobalt, you are a blessing' cuz ur art is so good :')

But yeah sorry if this is weird have this as compensation

lmaoooo dude don't worry nobody has to interact, I am the first one to never interact with anyone outside of like.. two people, so no judgement there!

I'm very happy you like my silly lil drawings tho :) Thank you for the sweet ask and the dancing clone gif! <3

[simplegenius042]

"What Kind Of Love Are You?" OC Quiz & "Every OC List Got The ___"

Tagged by @adelaidedrubman @imogenkol @voidika @shellibisshe and @aceghosts

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @noodlecupcakes @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @raresvtm @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries and @nightwingshero + anyone else who'd like to join.

Four results for my OCs for this quiz and four OC Lists for four of my series.

JOAQUIN COBALT (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

This feels accurate for Joaquin considering he begins The UnTitledverse as an adolescent, and the series follows his growth and youth to adulthood. Joaquin has the weight of the world (or rather multiverse) on him, but, he still has time to be a child, to be a teen, to be his own identity, with Maisie, Mario, Calvin and all his found family and friends to share the weight.

SILVA OMAR (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FAR CRY 5 & FAR CRY NEW DAWN])

Religious themes (including the trauma) for Silva go brrr! Like what else is there to say?

HAOYU ANABUKI (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

Yeah this makes sense for them. Haoyu is someone who's not used to love and when it comes it is gonna be the most life-changing thing for them. For once something they will have to make a commitment towards keeping if they want it. Haoyu is also the type to go in a panic as well as overthink; including full-on denial.

MARISSA "RESS" BISHOP (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FALLOUT])

While this definitely suits Ress at her best, I don't think it encapsulates everything about her. Because while Ress' love is bountiful and ageless and endless... there's also the fear of losing it all, because Ress will outlive everyone she knows because her own natural mortality outlasts everyone else's. The only person that would be around the longest with her (and meet her at what would be considered old age for a hybrid species like them) would have been her older half-brother, Ore... but even that is cruelly taken away from her by their father Urias and his Occult. Yeah, so while this definitely does shine a light on the happiness and thrill Ress would feel with her lover (prime example being Piper), it doesn't acknowledge the grief she'd eventually have to face.

Now for the OC List, I decided to go with OCs from all four/five of my series; The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and a shared list with my Fallout series A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and my original series An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Trilogy (which includes my Wings And Horns WIP that this trilogy spins off from). So yeah... enjoy! [NOTE: This will include art/doodles, reference pictures (for the art/doodles that I still haven't been skilled enough to draw) and faceclaims]:

THE UNTITLEDVERSE

Lisa Cobalt | Malcolm Darling | Mario Emmet Jester | Madame Callaghan | Lillian "Lena" Elliot Greenpeace | Allyson "Alice" Darling | Edward Carmine Calvin Dearing | Joaquin Cobalt | Rick Thompson

[My (Incomplete) Art: Malcolm Darling, Mario Emmet and Jester]

THE SILVER CHRONICLES

Oscar Lapis | Father Adam Omar | Silva's Third Eye Elsa Omar | Paul Yellowjack | Silva Omar Azriel Omar | Nadi Sinclair | Kamski Neon Alexander Khaos | Gavin Turquoise | Mercy Omar-Seed | Ezekiel

[My (Incomplete) Art: Silva's Third Eye (or at least what its spiritual physically looks like if you're potent in the Third Eye... or a certain New God shitting bricks at the sight of this hungry symbiotic cretin)]

LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS

Yan | Frederick Rosemary | The Unity Hatter | Icarus Galatos | Hatsukami Hinode | Xavier Tulip | Haoyu Anabuki Rico | Eden "Evie" Bloodleech | Sonya | Sir Enigma Malvolio | The Court King Denise Redwood | Lora | Cecil Royce | Corvus Targaryen

[Image Reference Credits: Vecna from Stranger Things, The Stupendium in "The Toybox", The Core from Amphibia, an edited Mad Hatter from Alice In Wonderland, Kraang One's Exosuit from Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Movie and artwork of that Jester King done by CristianAC on Steam]

A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE + WINGS AND HORNS

Elrand Brandt the Vault Dweller | Aggravor the Accursed | Arcane Urias Xiang Ba'al | Vega the Resident | Marissa "Ress" Bishop Alph Dolen the Lone Wanderer | Ryder the Courier Six | Discord the Mad Kin of Carnage Ortega "Ore" Brantley | Archangel Metatron | Finidy Mona the Chosen One | Nate Gust Sarid the Sole Survivor

[Image Reference Credits: Vecna from Stranger Things, Annihilus from Marvel Comics, Kagetane Hiruko from Black Bullet, LorenzoArt's Caedis from Instagram, NCR Veteran Ranger from Fallout: New Vegas and art of Archangel Metatron that I found posted on Quora]

[Faceclaims (which might or might not change): The UnTitledverse: Beanie Feldstein for Lisa Cobalt, Scarlett Johanson for Madame Callaghan, Elizabeth Gilles for Lillian "Lena" Elliot, Sean McLoughlin for Greenpeace, Anya Taylor-Joy for Allyson "Alice" Darling, Benedict Cumberbatch for Edward Carmine, Laurence Fishburne for Calvin Dearing, Isiaiah Stannard for Joaquin Cobalt and Aaron Moten for Rick Thompson. The Silver Chronicles: Mario Casas for Oscar Lapis, Brad Garrett for Father Adam Omar, Juliana Alves for Elsa Omar, Gabriel Garko for Paul Yellowjack, Mina El Hammani for Deputy Silva Omar, Aria Goodson for Azriel Omar, Aïssa Maïga for Nadi Sinclair, Andre Royo for Kamski "the Good Doctor" Neon, Taron Egerton for Alexander Khaos, Matthew McConaughey for Gavin Turquoise, Emily Tosta for Mercy Omar-Seed and Álex González for Captain Ezekiel of Security. Life, Despair & Monsters: Daniel Padilla for Icarus Galatos, Hatsukami Hinode & Xavier Tulip, Hikaru Utada for Haoyu Anabuki, Wilmer Calderon for Rico, Nathalie Emmanuel for Eden "Evie" Bloodleech, Rami Malek for Sir Enigma Malvolio, Odette Annable for Denise Redwood, Karen Fukuhara for Lora, Mia Goth for Cecil Royce and Daniel Radcliffe for Corvus Targaryen. A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore: Jason Statham for Elrand Brandt the Vault Dweller, Yvonne Strahovski for Vega the Resident, Beyonce for Marissa "Ress" Bishop, Sam Blanckensee for Alph Dolen the Lone Wanderer, Halle Berry for Ryder the Courier Six, Jessica Alba for Finidy Mona the Chosen One and Steven He for Nate Gust Sarid the Sole Survivor.

[beatriceeagle]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series)

Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Characters: Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett, Bren Aldric Ermendrud, Original Male Character(s), Yasha (Critical Role), Essek Thelyss, Astrid Beck

Additional Tags: canon compliant through Mighty Nein Reunited, canon inspired through Echoes of the Solstice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, technically this is kidfic in both senses of the term

Chapter: 23/25

Summary: Six months ago, Beau adopted a teenager who loves the Cobalt Soul, but can't stand her. Ten minutes ago, Caleb accidentally summoned his own teenage self into his living room. So you know, they're both going though some shit.

At least Caleb's got experience befriending novice monks with attitude problems. And Beau's got experience befriending Caleb.

Chapter Summary:

Beau and Caleb take a walk; Jasper eats a bear claw.

_____

Caleb caught Beau by the arm as they exited the art gallery. She let him pull her to the back of their absurdly large entourage.

"Let's take a walk," he said.

Beau had been looking forward to collapsing in bed, and Caleb looked like he should've been in bed six hours ago. But he had the Serious Talk look on his face, so Beau said, "Yeah, all right," and darted forward to let Yasha know she'd be home later.

The art gallery was in an up-and-coming neighborhood, where trendy cafes and boutiques struggled for space with old hole-in-the-wall restaurants and neighborhood haunts. Going north would take them more firmly into the luxury of the Opal Archways; going south would take them into the slums. Caleb headed south.

Read more

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 5. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: SMUT!!!!!!!!! Kissing, Dry humping, Sucking on my titties like you wanted me calling me all the time like Blondie check out my Chrissy behind it's fine all of the time.

Summary: It's the night of Slughorn's party and you're ready to make McLaggen jealous.

A/N: I said I wasn't gonna post til Sunday but I am too impulsive!!! Here is some recommended listening: Escapism by RAYE and Daylight by David Kushner (thank you anon for the latter recommendation). P.S. You can tell I'm not actually a Ravenclaw because my door riddle was SHIT lmao.

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula

Chapter 5: Firewhisky

Two weeks later, you sit on the same spot on the edge of Marietta’s bed, this time lacing up your strappy stilettos. You point your wand at your feet. ‘Molliare’ you think, silently casting a cushioning charm so you can walk with ease in your heels.

Cho and Marietta join you as you walk over to the mirror, they stand behind you like proud parents.

“Stunning,” says Cho looking at you in the mirror.

“Yes, well, enough about the dress,” says Marietta, admiring her alterations. “Zacharias is going to feel like he’s won the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Draw when he sees you.”

Ugh, you almost forgot about Smith. 

You admire yourself in the mirror and you have to admit- this is probably the best you’ve ever looked. Thanks to Marietta, your form-fitting cobalt blue dress seems to glow ethereally in the candlelight. She’s given you a high leg split and its generously low-cut bodice accentuates every curve of your body.

“Okay, toss your head forward and mess up your hair a wee bit,” says Cho. You flip your head down and back up and push your tousled hair behind your ear. “Perfect - it looks like you’ve just finished a very steamy snogging session.”

“Fuck, I’m nervous.” You reach out and hold both of their hands. “I wish you were coming.”

“Okay, Captain,” says Cho, imitating your most authoritative dressing-room voice. “What’s the game plan? Let’s go over positions.” Strangely, it helps your nerves.

“Meet Smith downstairs and arrive late. Don’t even look at McLaggen. Impress Gwenog. Still don’t look at McLaggen. Have a few drinks and hit the buffet-”

“Have one drink. No bread or you’ll burst out of that dress,” warns Marietta.

“One drink to stay reasonably sober,” you repeat, ignoring the last part. “Wait for McLaggen to approach me. Brush him off casually. Leave conspicuously and in an extra giggly fashion with Zacharias Smith then report back to you two in the common room.”

“Well remembered.”

“Shouldn’t I just snog Smith in front of him?”

“No!” says Marietta. 

“It’ll be way worse in his head if he doesn’t see you. Leave it to his imagination,” nods Cho knowledgeably.

God, dealing with boys was such hard work. You look at your two friends sincerely- they’re extremely skilled in this particular art of war. 

“Thank you- both of you. This was insanely hard work, I mean, this dress, Marietta…” You check yourself out in the mirror again. “It’s beautiful, really. I’m sorry if I’ve ever been sort of disparaging towards this stuff before. As if it’s any less worthwhile than Quidditch or school. It’s just… I’m not used to being bad at things.”

They understand. You don’t need to say any more as the three of you embrace in the middle of the dorm room.

“Right,” says Cho, wiping her eyes. “You’d better go before Zacharias thinks you’ve stood him up.”

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

Slughorn’s office looks like a beautifully decadent circus tent. The walls are draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings, contrasting with the striking blue of your dress.

You walk in, arm-in-arm with Smith who looks incredibly pleased with himself. When you met him earlier on the marble staircase he actually did a double take before saying your name questioningly, as if he didn’t believe it was you.

“Fuck off, Smith, I don’t look that different.”

“Ladylike as ever, I suppose,” he scoffed and you rolled your eyes.

But now as you walk in, you keep your head high and smile at other students you recognise, as if you’re delighted to be here with Smith. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, as the two of you pass through- you hope it’s your dress that’s causing a commotion but you resign yourself to the fact that your classmates are probably just surprised to see you here with a boy.

Tactics, remember tactics. 

“Let’s get a drink,” you whisper, marching him towards a tower of champagne flutes. You grab one and drain it quickly, using the opportunity to discreetly scan the room for McLaggen. 

He’s across the room, determinedly talking to Hermione. You have a satisfied feeling that he’s trying not to look at you.

You dump your empty glass, grab another for courage, and link Smith’s arm again, steering him to try and find Slughorn but you don’t need to go far before you hear a booming voice calling your name.

“Professor Slughorn! Thank you for inviting me,” you respond graciously, pretending you aren’t starstruck by his companion, Gwenog Jones. “This is Zacharias, he’s captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team.”

“Oh! I thought- ” says Slughorn looking from you to Smith and then off into the room behind you. “Ah, never mind. I’m an old man, who knows less and less about young love these days.” Slughorn chuckles and Smith gives you a questioning look which you ignore. “Anyway, allow me to introduce Miss Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Gwenog, this is the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, I mentioned earlier.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, shoving your drink into Smith’s hand and clasping hers when she reaches out to give you a handshake. “I’m a huge fan.”

“Old Sluggy’s been telling me all about you,” she says. 

“All good things, I hope?” You ask playfully of Slughorn who guffaws.

“Of course, of course!”

“I don’t suppose he mentioned our recent landslide victory against Slytherin?” You give her a winning smile, desperate to make a positive impression.

“He did… But I’m more interested in what he told me about your training.”

“My- my training?” you stumble - slightly surprised that Professor Slughorn knows anything about your training.

“I’ve told Miss Jones here all about you spending every evening on the pitch. I can see it from that window, you know.” He gestures to the window in the corner, obscured by the curtains. “You and McLaggen, practising for hours and hours and right in the middle of your N.E.W.Ts too… Oh, look, there he is!” Slughorn looks over your shoulder again and calls his name. “Not that you’d be interested in McLaggen for your all-female team, Gwen,” he chuckles. Slughorn spills a little champagne when he spots Harry Potter and practically runs over to join him, abandoning your group.

You bristle as McLaggen replaces Slughorn’s vacant space beside you. He shakes hands with Gwenog who, you remind yourself, he’s acquainted with already.

“As I was saying, Slughorn told me all about your win against Slytherin and while it piqued my interest, it was your work ethic that really got my attention. And he says you’re a keeper too?”

“A world-class one,” says McLaggen. “I’m surprised she hasn’t been snapped up by a professional team already.”

You blink at him in surprise. It’s very considerate of him to compliment you like that in front of Gwenog, even though you’re not speaking.

“And it’s you two who’ve been practising together every night?” she asks, noticing the look you give to McLaggen. “I mean, you’ve actually been training? Slughorn hasn’t been seeing you head off to the Quidditch pitch so you can snog privately or anything, has he?” She lets out a laugh like a bark.

“No! God, no,” you say quickly, and go to squeeze Smith’s arm but he’s already disappeared without you even noticing. 

“Absolutely not,” confirms McLaggen.

“Good,” she smiles. “Well, you’re not the usual build for a keeper, I must say. They usually look more like him - ha!” She nods at McLaggen. “But if you’re as good as he and Slughorn say you are, it sounds like I’d be stupid not to let you try out during the transfer window this summer.”

“That… that would be incredible. Thank you.” 

She bids you and McLaggen farewell and goes to mingle with the other guests. If you hadn’t fallen out with McLaggen, you’d grab him and jump up and down screaming for joy. Instead, you stand awkwardly, trying not to look at him.

Game plan, a small voice in your head reminds you but the champagne has loosened your sharp tongue.

“Well, you better not keep your girlfriend waiting,” you say, looking for Smith.

“Who told you that Hermione’s my girlfriend?”

“Hermione told Lavender who told Parvati who told Padma who told Cho who told me,” you rhyme off, trying to sound casual. 

“I thought you didn’t like gossip.” 

You shrug. “I just hear things.”

“Look, I know you don’t like her after what she did to Marietta-”

“Oh, is that what she said?”

“No, it’s what I know. I was in the D.A. with them too. You’re not the only one who hears things.”

Finally bringing yourself to look at him properly, you’re extremely annoyed to see that he looks incredibly handsome in his black shirt and dress robes. 

“So, have you snogged her?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

“What?!”

“Have you snogged her?” you repeat slowly and clearly, knowing full well he heard you the first time.

“I’ll go and snog her right now if you’re so concerned.”

“Go ahead. It should be easy, right? If she’s your girlfriend and not just here to make Ron Weasley jealous. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my date.”

He watches dumbfounded as you walk across the room to grab Smith aggressively and lead him by the hand out of the room. When you reach the corridor, you turn around and see that Smith looks like he can’t believe his luck.

“Oh,” you say, trying to think of a lie when you realise you really, definitely don’t want to snog him. “Sorry- I just wanted a bit of air. It’s so hot in there and my armpits are like, really sweaty.” You make up wildly.

Smith pulls a disgusted face and turns to go back in. “Wait!” you grab his arm and spin him back around. “Let me fix your hair.” You run your hand through it, messing it up slightly. “There, much better.”

He stares at you, stunned. “You are so weird.” He returns to the party and you groan, leaning against the indented archway in the wall and knocking your head back against it a few times in frustration. When you hear the click of high-heeled footsteps coming towards you, you flatten yourself inside the little cove so you’re not spotted alone. 

Hermione Granger whips past you without so much as a backwards look. You watch her as she walks as fast as she can in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. She’s ditched McLaggen, you realise. You thought you’d feel ready to gloat but instead you just feel… empty. Until recently he was your friend after all.

Returning to the party, you’re not sure what to do with yourself. The game plan has gone out the window.

You want to do everything you can to avoid Zacharias Smith, and you really don’t want to be paraded in front of a vampire by Slughorn like Potter is right now. The only person you actually want to talk to is Cormac McLaggen but lately, all you’ve been able to do is argue, that is when you’re not sitting in sullen silence during Potions. 

You decide you’d better mix with some other students. You spend some time chatting with Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley who you recognise from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They congratulate you on your win against Slytherin, and you return the compliment but only out of obligation as both victories make your teams the closest rivals on the table, competing for the top spot. You excuse yourself and cross the room to get another drink but Professor Snape halts you in your tracks. 

“Detention,” he says simply. 

“Sir, I-”

“The first Saturday after the holidays. And I expect you to be more suitably dressed for the occasion.”

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. Any argument with Snape is likely to extend your detention to a week or even a month. More murmuring cascades around the room as he gestures to the door. It’s probably for the best, you think, that you leave before you drink any more. You got what you came for - an invite to the Holyhead Harpies tryouts. But you wish you’d just…

What do you wish?

That you’d made McLaggen jealous in the process? Or even just made up with him? Gone back to being friends. But could you ever swallow your pride and settle for being just friends? Surely that had to be better than whatever this feeling was right now.

Out of the hot room, the cool air hits you dizzyingly as you walk quickly along the corridor to the entrance hall. You see McLaggen ahead of you, near the front doors, in almost the exact same spot where you had your argument two weeks ago. 

Maybe being friends would be enough.

When he hears your footsteps he turns and groans “Oh, no. Not you.”

You catch up with him. “Always so disappointed to see me, McLaggen.”

“I’ve been chucked out. Snape gave me detention.”

“Me too,” you shrug. It’s not much of an olive branch but your instinct is to try and make him feel better. Misery loves company after all.

“You have?” He brightens up considerably. 

“He thought I wasn’t ‘suitably dressed’,” you say and his eyes follow your hands as you smooth the front of your satin dress. “What did you get chucked out for?”

“He caught me hiding behind the bar trying to drown my sorrows.” He pulls an entire bottle of Firewhisky from his cloak.

“Your sorrows?” 

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“And he didn’t confiscate the bottle?”

“I pretended that I was about to vomit on his shoes and he just threw me out without noticing I still had it.” 

Without warning you both burst out laughing. Your stomach hurts from laughing at the idea of Snape dragging McLaggen out at arm’s length, trying to avoid being vomited on.

“Well, no wonder he was in such a foul mood when he saw me. I mean detention, for wearing a dress?”

“Personally, I agree with Snape,” His gaze lingers on you again. “It’s very distracting.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

“Just don’t ask me what colour it is. I haven’t noticed.”

You hit his arm. This is nice - the playful banter, both of you not sulking for the first time in weeks. It feels almost… normal. Until, with a small jolt, you remember it’s not.

“Don’t be a pig, McLaggen. You have a girlfriend.”

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” he says, leaning his head back against the wall. “We can’t stand each other.”

And there it is. The news you’d been secretly hoping for all night. The pit in your stomach feels much lighter.

“Where’s Smith anyway? He was looking pretty dishevelled when he came back from the corridor.”

You feel a pang of guilt. He’d noticed. And it doesn’t make you feel victorious in the way you’d thought it would. “I honestly couldn’t give a shit where he is.” He says nothing. You wonder if he’s been hoping for similar news too.

“Do you want some?” He asks eventually, shaking the bottle of Firewhisky and breaking the prolonged silence. You go to accept it but he says. “Not here - Snape and Filch will be prowling the corridors in a minute.”

“Quidditch stands?”

He nods and you exit the castle, walking side-by-side in the dark, down the path towards the pitch. It’s a frosty night and you feel your teeth chatter.

“Wait a sec.” He removes his heavy cloak and wraps it around your shoulders. It smells good. Like him. “Better?” You nod and take the bottle from him, so you can have a nip of Firewhisky. It burns your chest, spreading heat through your body.

The path ends when you get to the pitch and you feel your high heels sink into the grass. “Shit,” you hiss, freeing one of your stilettos.

“Right, up you get.” He stands in front of you and stoops slightly, so he can give you a piggyback. 

“You must be drunk if you think I’m letting you carry me.”

“Don’t argue for once in your life. Hurry up.”

You give him the bottle back before jumping up so he can carry you across the grass and underneath the stands. The familiar smell of amber and jasmine, this time mixed with Firewhisky and mud from the Quidditch pitch, reaches your nostrils. You resist the strong urge you have to lean into the crook of his neck and inhale.

He lets you off when you get to the wooden stairs. “Ladies first.”

“Remembered I’m not a bloke, have you?” you ask, walking up the stairs. Cho was right- he does always let you walk in front of him.

“If I thought you were a bloke, I wouldn’t constantly be staring at your arse.” He gives you a cocky grin. 

“Oh, well, by all means, carry on objectifying me then,” you say sarcastically and snatch the bottle from his hands before turning around quickly so he can’t see you smile. 

He follows you to the top of the stand where the pair of you sit, looking out onto the pitch and the snowy hills in the distance. 

“I’ve never noticed how beautiful it is up here,” you sigh. 

“Always been too busy watching the game?” 

You nod. 

“Same.” 

There’s still an awkward dark cloud hanging over your heads. You take another drink of Firewhisky and pass it back to him. 

“Right, out with it then.”

“What?” he asks.

“We can’t just act like the past couple of weeks haven’t happened.” Being brave, being vulnerable like this is something you’ve always found difficult and the bottle of liquid courage you and McLaggen are sharing doesn’t seem to be helping. 

You try to think of how to get the words out - if there’s one thing you’ve learned from spending more time with Cho and Marietta this year, it’s that it’s better to get this sort of thing out in the open. You take a deep breath, preparing for rejection but he beats you to the punch. 

“I’m an idiot.” He groans. “I just - I got it into my head that we’d go to the party together and you’d end up getting off with Gwenog Jones. So when Hermione asked me to go I jumped at the chance.”

“I don’t fancy Gwenog Jones-”

“-Then you turned up with Smith and that was even worse than what I imagined with Gwen.”

You draw his cloak around you and look at your shoes. “Well, I didn’t realise you had asked me to go to Slughorn’s party as friends.”

“I- I didn’t want to ask you as friends. Believe me. I thought I was kidding myself that you might be into me… everyone said I was stupid to even ask you.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Belby-“

“Belby?!” You scowl. That moron. “Who else?” You demand.

“Well I’m not gonna say now, am I?” McLaggen laughs. “I can tell Belby’s about to regret it.”

Your face cracks into a smile. The aggression bubbling up in your chest evaporates into the frosty night air. His laugh gives you a new perspective - it’s as if you can step back from the scene and can see how daft it is to get so bothered by someone like Marcus Belby.

You look up at his face in the cold moonlight. Butterflies squirm in your stomach. He’s so distractingly good-looking - you can’t think properly when it’s just you and him like this. No quaffle or cauldron to divert your attention or give you a reason not to look at him for too long. 

“To be honest, I sort of thought Belby was right after all because you didn’t seem that keen when I asked you.”

“I hesitated because you make me nervous, Cormac,” you say softly, determined not to look away. It’s like looking into the sun.

“Yeah?” He’s still looking into your eyes but he feels closer now. 

“Don’t pretend you haven’t figured out by now that I like boys too.” You look from his eyes to his lips. “Well, not boys. Just… just one.”

His mouth is inches from yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. “If you say Smith, I’ll kill him.”

And there it is. You’re not sure whether it’s his possessiveness or the fact you’d really like to watch him hit Smith but something about that sentence makes you feral for him. You press your mouth against his, the burning taste of Firewhisky on both your lips. 

He kisses you back fiercely. It’s harder and rougher than the soft kisses you’ve experienced before but you like it. It means you can kiss him back the way you want to - you know he can handle it. You bite hard on his bottom lip in silent admonishment for what he’s put you through. And Cormac returns the favour, his hand roughly gripping the part of your thigh exposed by your dress. You wonder if he knows it’s for him. The absence of fabric - created for the sole purpose of seeking his attention.

You bring your arms behind his neck, pressing your body as close to him as you can and the Firewhisky falls from the bench and rolls on the floor, forgotten. He moves his hand under your thigh and drags you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. Your lips meet again, crashing into each other and his tongue intrudes into your mouth, rolling over yours. You want to feel his mouth everywhere.

As if reading your mind, his lips leave yours to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. You lean back so he can draw his tongue along your collarbone and bury his face in your chest. Cormac’s strong hands grip your hips tightly, his thumbs pressing bruises into your hipbones without any indication of slowing down or showing restraint. 

From this position, you can feel his erection pressing into you. It’s the first time you’ve kissed a man like this but your body responds almost automatically, sending your hips grinding into him. The night air is below freezing but your skin feels burning hot between the weight of his cloak and the warmth of his body.

The difference in size and strength between you sends wild thoughts flashing through your mind of him pinning you down against the bench and savagely taking you there.

You run your fingers through his dark blonde hair, pushing his face into your cleavage in encouragement, feeling his hot tongue and rough chin against your chest as you grind yourself against him harder. The now hot and damp fabric of your underwear rubs against the hard bulge between your bodies, creating friction more electric than the one that’s been between you the past few weeks.

“Fuck…” he moans into your chest softly.

All evidence so far has pointed to Cormac being an ass man but you’re not so sure any more as he continues his vocal appreciation, licking and sucking your tits right here on the deserted stands.

Cormac’s hands move up from your hips to push your breasts together and he whines when one of your nipples peeks out over the top of your dress. He latches onto the small nub of skin and sucks, swirling his tongue around your nipple. 

“Cormac, fuck, that’s-”

But just what it is, is interrupted by the anguished moan of pleasure that leaves your lips when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. It echoes across the deserted pitch into the night. A noise that would be indiscernible in the usually busy stadium. Unable to take it anymore you push his chest back and stare into his eyes, breathing heavily. 

“We shouldn’t… we should go back to the castle,” you pant.

“Shouldn’t what?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk, his slightly wet chin glistening in the dim moonlight. “I haven’t suggested anything.”

“I was talking to myself.”

He grins and helps you off of him so you can fix your dress. “Well, that was easily the best thing that’s happened to me in this stadium,” he says, adjusting himself too.

“Ah, maybe you’ll get a game one day,” you tease and cup his face, just so you can feel his stubbly chin against your palm again.  

He kisses your palm before taking your hand in his so you can walk back down the steps to the pitch together. When you get to the grass he insists on carrying you again but this time refuses to put you back down until you reach the castle steps. 

From a tower high above, Horace Slughorn looks out of the window of his now-empty office. The party has long finished. He chuckles to himself when he sees the silhouette of McLaggen emerging from the darkness, carrying you on his back towards the entrance hall, illuminated by the castle torches.

When you climb off him and make it to the top of the marble staircase, you kiss him goodbye one final time. This is the last time you’ll see him before you go home for the Christmas holidays tomorrow. You turn and leave for Ravenclaw Tower, while he goes off in the opposite direction to Gryffindor. 

“I can skip, I can be broken, I can burst, I can sing. What am I?” asks the bronze eagle knocker on the door. “A heart,” you say, ripping off your heels impatiently, waiting for the door to swing open. You need to wake up Cho and Marietta - you promised you’d tell them everything.

Chapter 6: First Name Basis