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About Varied / Hobbyist AbiFemale/United Kingdom Group :iconbbcrobinhoodclub: BBCRobinHoodClub
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Happy 16th Anniversary DeviantArt by Abboz
Happy 16th Anniversary DeviantArt
For my version of the DeviantArt 16th Anniversary Template I decided I wanted to do make an actual picture.

BBC Robin Hood fans may notice that it's Will & Djaq by a fire, by the river in Sherwood Forest.

I actually really enjoyed this; I have been wanting to make some more visual art but keep delaying it for lack of skill or perceived time.

Happy 16th Birthday DeviantArt! Apparently I have been here for half of it!
Set after the main events of Audrey Pauley.

“How are you feeling?”

Monica smiled as John settled back into the chair at her bedside. “Are you going to ask me that every time you sit back back down?”

“I expect so. Not going to answer?”

“I feel okay, same as five minutes ago. How about I let you know if I don't?”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

“John.” Shaking her head, Reyes reached across to place her hand on his arm, willing him to relax and look at her. It took more than a moment, but it worked and let her lean back again. “I am proud of you for today.”

A familiar crease formed in his brow and made her want to ignore her weakened state and comfort her partner. “I didn't do anything, Monica; it was you that pulled through.”

Despite his doubting, she smiled. “Not true. When we met you would have just believed the science; I know that as the good man you are you would always have been upset, but you would have believed the doctors that said I was gone, accepted it. Today, you refused to believe that; despite everything and everyone telling you I was gone, you believed in something greater than science or medicine, that I am more than just a set of medical readings. You believed Audrey–”

“I believed in you.”

Reaching out to him, Monica pulled him to her to kiss his cheek, holding him to her for just a few seconds after. “John, you showed your open mind, you believed in something no less than supernatural that made you fight them, fight to keep the machines going, to keep me here. Agent Scully told me that if you hadn't fought them the way you did, hadn't believed, they would have switched off the machine and I wouldn't be here.”

Though he wanted to look away, her eyes held him steadfast. “I'd believe in anything I had to to save you.”

John.” Her hand fell from his jaw back into her lap, fingers curling in the blanket and drawing his gaze down just long enough that he could take her hand. “I know Audrey helped, but thank you for saving my life.”

“I don't know what I would have done if I couldn't.”

She squeezed his fingers; they'd both been in that position. “Before, when you said you were a cat person because they had no expectations so you couldn't disappoint them.”

“After this, I believe you when you say I'm a dog person.”

“No, who do you think you disappoint?” Evidently the neutral expression he maintained meant she wasn't getting a response. That in itself gave her enough of an answer. “If it's me, I did mean it that I couldn't see how you could ever disappoint anyone. You've never let me down, I have never been disappointed in you, just impressed. And proud, grateful...”

He smiled. “Like I said, you proved me wrong; dog person. Now come on, you need to rest, and before your parents get here.”

“Are you going to rest too?”

He nodded. “And I'll stay.” Keen to keep the contact with her, he reached for the light switch with his free hand, and leant in to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight, Monica.”


“And, Monica? Next time, you have to let me drive you home.”

She smiled, nodding despite the darkness and turned her hand over to slide her fingers between his as a replacement gesture. “Sure. Thank you.”
This is the first (and so far only) thing I've ever written for The X-Files. When I started watching it, I didn't expect that it wouldn't be a Mulder & Scully focussed piece, but Audrey Pauley just so happened to be the episode that sparked an idea.
Taking advantage of the unusually hot weather one Sunday in April, Will and Djaq stole away from their friends to a small glade in Sherwood Forest. Sheltered from wind by thick greenery, they lounged in the dappled sunshine that filtered through the canopy above, dozing in the warmth as she lay back against him with her head on his chest, enjoying the much needed time to relax.

The clearing was so peaceful that over the months since they'd first spent time there, they'd been visiting more and more frequently for a peaceful escape, the quiet area always enticing them back once more. As the only two who ever went there, the little sanctuary had served them well, the time together going a long way towards keeping them sane through the hardships of their lives as outlaws.

It was a place he had found as a child, a curious boy searching for wonders and actually finding one. Though at the time he hadn't known what it would mean later, he had come to value the discovery the first time she had needed it. Missing home and seeming sad, he had whisked her away to what would become their hideaway. Basking in the sun, they'd exchanged stories and memories of their families, sharing secrets and finding comfort in the trust that took, and in one moment of hope, Will had urged her to seek him out whenever she needed home so they could keep finding it in each other. That first evening, as the sky turned orange and grew dark, she drifted off beside him and he was content in knowing that his words and their green haven had done her good that day.

“Will, can I ask you something?”

He smiled, turning his face away from the sun so he could open his eyes. “Always, you know that.”

“I mean you don't have to answer.”

Peering at her, Will reached over to take a hold of the hand resting on her stomach. “Ask.”

Silently watching him, wanting to give him a second chance to refuse despite knowing he wouldn't, she let a few seconds of silence pass between them and then squeezed his hand. “When your father asked you to go to Scarborough with him and Luke, if you'd had the chance to talk to him, tell him about me, and he had said I could go too, would you have said yes?”

Grateful for the grounding contact, he swept his thumb across her wrist. “I'd have been tempted.”

Djaq smiled, leaning further back and holding his gaze. “Me too.”

“Tempted enough to ask you.”

“Do you ever wish you had said yes when he did ask?”

“Of course. If I could talk to him after. Not just because he'd probably still be alive. Luke wouldn't have had to witness that, my father wouldn't have thought he'd needed to prove himself, he'd have had the chance to meet you, properly meet you. I really wish he could have got to know you.”

Nodding, she blinked away the tears welling in her eyes. “Me too.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I said the wrong thing, but I couldn't just leave you behind, I'll never do that.”

“I know; I never imagined you would. I've thought about those things too. That night, when I comforted you; once you finally fell asleep I wondered if there'd been something I could have said or done and stopped it. If I could have saved you from that pain, spoken to him about how proud he made you, learnt about your childhood and your mother. Pointless wonderings but I am sorry there was nothing I could do.”

“It's not fair that you were both deprived of that, but I know he would have loved you, would have marvelled at your intelligence, and strength, so would my mother. He would be grateful that I have you, that you take care of me. When I miss him I take comfort in that, in you. What I have with you is what they both wanted for me.”

“I know mine would think the same about you too. You are a wonderful, honourable man. I am so glad I met you.”

“And I don't know what I'd do without you.” He smiled at the grin his words induced in her.

“Thank you for answering my question.”

He shook his head at her. “Thank you for caring so much about my father, about me. And for the never ending affection, laughter, time you spend with me.”

“It's my pleasure, Will. You're my best friend and you know I adore you.” Pulling herself upright, Djaq shuffled across and twisted round to lie beside him. “I hope I'll always be stuck with you.”

Will wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into his chest and softly kissing the bridge of her nose. “Didn't I promise you forever?”
Clint held his partner tightly to him, cradling her head in his palm to provide at least some semblance of protection. It wasn't easy to control a jet with one hand whilst keeping her safe in his lap, but it was necessary and luckily the direct route meant that most of the time he could rely on the autopilot and keep all his attention on her as she needed. “It's alright.” He fought to concentrate on her beautiful face instead of the blood he could feel on his hand, leaving a matted mess in the place of her stunning natural curls.

Though quiet, she was holding consciousness, but every time she closed her eyes he felt a touch of uncontrollable fear that she wouldn't ever wake up. He needed them to get back to headquarters quicker than they were, needed someone to examine her when all he could do was hold her, comfort her, and give her something to hold on for. It certainly didn't help that usually he'd tend to her wound, she preferred it wherever possible and he treasured that trust, and yet suddenly he was useless, helpless. “I'm here Tasha, I've got you. And I won't leave you. I promise I won't leave you.”


“Shh.” He kept his eyes trained on hers, hoping the familiar sight would soothe her. “You're safe. We're almost there, just relax. You're safe. I'm here. I need you. You know I need you.” He carefully brushed his lips against her forehead. “I'll look after you, I promise. Trust me, just focus on me, your Hawkeye, your stupid partner.” He was sure one corner of her lips twitched upwards just slightly. “I'm so proud of you. So so proud. It's alright, I've got you, Tash.” Ten minutes, just ten long and excruciating minutes until he could get her to the medical wing, and she just had to be alright.


Clint held Natasha's left hand tightly in his own, pressing kisses to the back of it as he sat patiently at her bedside, waiting for her to wake up. It had been just over two hours since the doctors had left them and she had been peacefully asleep the whole time, thankfully without the need for drugs.

Coulson had been in after half an hour, bringing them some clean clothes and food, and allowing him a sixty second break in the adjoined bathroom without abandoning her. Once their colleague left, he took the chance to change his now blood-stained t-shirt for a clean one, and then settled back in where he belonged, clasping her hand once more.

He refused to look away from her, gaze fixed on his beautiful partner's face, he had all the patience in the world when it came to her and had no doubt she knew he would wait forever if she needed him to. At the first glimpse of green eyes, lashes flickering, he squeezed her hand to reassure her, beaming. “Tasha.”

He waited for her to focus on him, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand to provide a reassuring constant as her mind began to clear. “Clint? Clint.”

“Yeah it's me. It's alright, you're in a medical bay. You're safe, I'm here, just relax for me.”


“Shh.” He switched the hand which was holding hers, freeing the left one to cup her cheek and help keep her calm, gaze on him. “You're safe. I promise everything's alright. I'm here.”

“I'm alright? My head.” She lifted her right hand, instinctively bringing her fingers vaguely towards the worst of the pain.

“Don't.” Clint gently touched her wrist, protecting her wound, but judging by the frown on her face he hadn't kept her from discovering the other issue. She trapped the tip of her hair between her fingers, holding it where it sat by the top of her cheek instead of below her shoulders. “Tasha.” He took her hand away, kissing her palm.

“My hair.”

“Shh.” He began to stroke her locks to replace the negative feelings with comfort. “I know.” Cupping her cheek, he leant closer and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “You were bleeding, a lot. It was in your hair, and left it matted. When we got here, I needed to get your head looked at, but the doctors couldn't see to examine you. I was so worried about you. There wasn't time to wash your hair or fight our way through, I was only able to clean you up once you'd been checked out and treated. We had to cut your hair to get to your wound, to help you. We had to make sure we could examine you completely, but luckily it looked a lot worse than it is, you're alright, when it heals you will be absolutely fine. I'm sorry about your hair though.”

“It's okay.” She frowned, and he knew it wasn't really alright, just better than being dead or brain-damaged. He resumed brushing his fingers over her red hair, coaxing her to relax with every touch. “It'll grow back. It will grow back, right?”

The archer nodded. “Of course it will.” Lifting her hand in his, he raised it to his mouth to leave a lingering kiss on her skin. The corner of her lips twitched at the contact, so he smiled back.

“So, how bad does it look?”

“Doesn't.” He shook his head. “You look beautiful.”

She scoffed; the damp and roughly severed hair, pale skin from blood loss, exhaustion and intense headache were hardly conventional elements of beauty. “Are you saying that because you mean it, or because you're my partner?”

“I mean it.” He swept his thumb over her temple. “I'm so glad you're alright.”

“Me too.” She squeezed his hand, taking comfort in the feel of his palm on her skin. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Shh.” Smiling, he shook his head, caressing her cheek. “I need you, Tash. Thank you for holding on.”

Her brow furrowed just slightly. “Sorry for scaring you.”

Again he shook his head, leaning closer. “Shh. Thank you for holding on.” Tenderly cupping her face, he pressed a kiss to the crease that had just formed. “Just relax. I think you need some rest.”


“I'll stay right here, look after you while you sleep, make sure you don't hurt yourself. Just a few hours until morning. and then hopefully I can bring you home.”

“Home sounds good.”

“Yeah it does.” He nodded with a smile. “So get some sleep.”

“But my head hurts. I have a massive headache.”

Once again, he swept his thumb across her temple. “That's to be expected. But you're alright. And I'm going to help you relax.” Leaning closer, he brought his face to her level. “How about, since this is a private room and no one will be coming in, a nice cuddle? Warmth, a soothing heartbeat, comfort. Will you let me cuddle you?” She watched him, taking it in, and then nodded, just twice. A grin spread across his face and he took his hand away from her cheek to move the edge of the blanket before climbing up to join her. “Come here.” With deliberate tenderness, he helped her lift herself, protecting her head as he drew her into his arms, and then bringing it to rest against his chest. “You'll feel better soon. A couple of days and you'll feel like yourself again. Until then, I've got you.”

She nodded her acknowledgement, and then clenched her fingers in the material of his t-shirt. “You changed your shirt.”

“Yeah. I got it dirty.”

He noted the pause, and when she flattened her palm against him, laid his on top. “You mean I got it dirty.”

“Shh.” He squeezed her hand, then lifted his to her cheek, kissing her forehead. “Doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all; you're safe.”


“As long as I have you, I'm happy. I can't do this without you. Any of this.”

“Except you were at S.H.I.E.L.D. years before we met.”

“When I was asked to join S.H.I.E.L.D. I didn't do it because I thought I'd be good at it, thought I would do a lot of good in the world, or because I thought I could be a hero. I thought that, just maybe, I could do one thing that would make everything I'd been through worth it, just one thing that mattered. You were that thing, Tash. You are that thing; helping you, saving you, and letting you be you. I've always been doing this for you, all of it.” He leant down to press another kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes at the contact.

“I am so lucky to have you.”

He beamed. “Feeling's mutual. And I am so proud to be yours.” Gently rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back, he held her a little tighter to bring his arms further around her and surround her with his embrace. “That's it. Relax and get some sleep. I'm protecting you.”

She nodded slightly, fingers gripping his side. “Thank you.”


By the next afternoon their wish had been granted, Natasha was discharged and allowed to go home, left in Clint's care under the condition that he promised not to leave her alone. He had welcomed the excuse to fuss, but exhausted and aching, she was all to happy to indulge him anyway. Despite turning the heat up a few degrees, he tucked her under a blanket on their couch, giving her the choice of viewing and pampering her with affection as they lounged in front of the TV together.

Hours after the movie had ended, Natasha curled her fingers in Clint's hair as he stirred from his sleep, smiling as he turned his head in her lap slightly. “Hello, sleepyhead.”



“I fell asleep on you?” He swiftly sat up, twisting round and looking into her eyes. “I'm sorry, I'm meant to be looking after you, you're wounded, you're the one that needs taking care of. I'm supposed to take care of my partner.”

Tenderly taking hold of his chin, she leant closer and silenced him with a kiss, the second of contact enough to make him pause and take a breath. She smiled. “You saved my life yesterday. You deserve some rest, you've earned it. I've been resting too, haven't moved, haven't been in danger. You look after me. Don't worry.”

“I know, I just...”

She nodded slowly. “I know. We had a bit of a scare.”

“Hey.” He shifted slightly closer, taking her hand in his and drawing it into his lap. “I see you feeling guilty; don't do that. It wasn't your fault, Tash.” He squeezed her fingers to reaffirm the promise he'd already made countless times before. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “I have a bit of a headache, but I'm alright.”

“Natasha Romanoff alright, or Clint Barton alright?”

She beamed. “Clint Barton alright. I promise I feel okay.”

“Good.” He brushed his thumb against her temple, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with a simply flick of his hand. “I can't lose you.”

Leaning into his touch, she took his hand in her own, drawing it away from her cheek and focusing on the sensations in the tips of her fingers as they uncurled to lie flat against his. “I'm alright. You saved me.” She turned her palm, making sure not to break the contact as she carefully intertwined their fingers. “I think we both need to rest.”

“Are you suggesting we nap together?”

“Well you're not exactly going to let me out of your sight.”


“And you know it will do us both a lot of good.”

“Yeah, I'm not objecting. You go and curl up, I'm gonna get us some hot drinks, and then I'll join you.” A smile played on the corner of her lips. “What?”

“You make me happy.”

“I do my best. You make me very happy too.”
I'm looking to upload a new piece, but struggling with a title since I always take a quote from the piece. Hopefully I will have it up tomorrow, just sometimes it sucks to have no one to ask to help, even just for these little things.
I do want to be more active, it's just a struggle not to suck. If anyone is there to read this, please bear with me.
  1. How long have you been on DeviantArt?
    Too long, which is apparently 7 years.

  2. What does your username mean?
    It's the username I have for everything, I created it a long long time ago, when I first needed a username. It doesn't mean anything in particular.

  3. Describe yourself in three words.
    Tries and fails ?
    Not good enough ?

    I hate these things. Honestly you don't want me to start describing myself.

  4. Are you left or right handed?

  5. What was your first deviation?
    Apparently this: 
    Rainbow Flower by Abboz
    And not much has changed since.

  6. What is your favourite type of art to create?
    I suppose it's writing fiction. I certainly do more of that because I find the other things I'd like to be able to do so frustrating. Or perhaps photography, I at least find getting a decent shot far far easier than drawing/painting a decent picture. 

  7. If you could instantly master a different art style, what would it be?
    Anything? I would just like to be able to draw what I see in my head (obviously with the certain degree of differentiation) preferably without using 50 references for a pose that then doesn't even look like that it was meant to. I'd like to be able to actually do likenesses, to do something with skill, something worthwhile.

  8. What was your first favourite?
    Namesakes by muggle-struggle

  9. What type of art do you tend to favourite the most?
    I haven't favourited much for a while, but it's almost always fan art, which tends to be digital painting of varying degrees of realism, from realistic to cartoon.

  10. Who is your all-time favourite deviant artist?
    I couldn't choose to be honest, there's no single person whose art I specifically look forward to (actually in trying to answer this question I found that most people I watch on deviantART aren't really active any longer - somehow even less active than me!) But the most active is a wonderful artist who is a fan of at least a couple of things I am, making great art for them:
    Victoria Waterfield by mustamirri Clementine by mustamirri

  11. If you could meet anyone on DeviantArt in person, who would it be?
    Pass? I'm not currently in contact with anyone through deviantART.

  12. How has a fellow deviant impacted your life?
    Honestly being on this site has had a lot less of an impact than I expected or hoped. Nothing particularly good comes to mind and sadly I have found myself kind of lost in the masses and not interacting with people.

  13. What are your preferred tools to create art?
    For writing, the obvious: MS Word and a keyboard.
    For other art I mostly use my Wacom Bamboo tablet and Photoshop (I don't recall doing any traditional art for a long time, though I wish I could, I just require too many undos/redos.)

  14. What is the most inspirational place for you to create art?
    I don't have anywhere in particular, the closest thing to a particular place is somewhere watching a show (or more specifically characters) I love; they are all that inspires me to create things, at least I want to create things for them.

  15. What is your favourite DeviantArt memory?
    Nothing springs to mind unfortunately. Perhaps when people surprised me by making me things, that used to be amazing.


Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United Kingdom

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amazingmle11 Featured By Owner Feb 14, 2016  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Happy birthday! Sorry I'm late. :)
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 15, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks, don't worry about it, I'm not really into birthdays anymore.
therandomgal800 Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday! Hug 
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Aww thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to message me.
therandomgal800 Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Anytime. :)
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
What was it that you added me to your watch list for? I know I've been really bad lately at posting things, but I have reasons and I am sorry. 
(1 Reply)
Laurenthebumblebee Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Student General Artist
Happy Birthday Abi :)
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Aww, thanks! :hug:
TehAngelsCry Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Professional Interface Designer
Happy Birthday Abi! 
Abboz Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you very much!
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