how to post art in the middle of the night when nobody's looking

Places where reality is a bit altered:

• any target
• churches in texas
• abandoned 7/11’s
• your bedroom at 5 am
• hospitals at midnight
• warehouses that smell like dust
• lighthouses with lights that don’t work anymore
• empty parking lots
• ponds and lakes in suburban neighborhoods
• rooftops in the early morning
• inside a dark cabinet

• playgrounds at night
• rest stops on highways
• deep in the mountains

• early in the morning wherever it’s just snowed
• trails by the highway just out of earshot of traffic
• schools during breaks
• those little beaches right next to ferry docks
• bowling alleys

• unfamiliar McDonalds’s on long road trips
• your friends living room once everybody but you is asleep
• laundromats at midnight

• galeries in art museums that are empty except for you
• the lighting section of home depot
• stairwells
• hospital waiting rooms
• airports from midnight to 7am
• bathrooms in small concert venues

• cemeteries
• abandoned penitentiaries
• hilltops at night in full moonlight
• most of Japan
• empty barns
• marshes
• really anywhere quiet at midnight, the air vibrates
• old stones and henge
• the ocean when it’s still quiet with fog over it
• train tracks that go through the middle of the woods
• bridges
• ancient places
• stands of old growth forest
• the Eastern Sierras/high desert

• rabbit paths off hiking tails
• trails between the main ski hills
• winter twilight
• back allies between houses
• logging roads
• dirt roads on fall evenings with leaves falling off the trees
• libraries before closing
• anyplace where it’s snowing before sunrise
• the woods during a rainstorm

• roads covered with snow with trees on the sideways while snowflakes are falling out of the sky
• train stations after 10 PM
• outside, right before a massive storm
• the woods just after twilight
• the beach in winter
• the bottom of swimming pools
• empty beaches when its snowing

• back part of a library
• late night empty streets
• highways late at night
• windy roads
• windy roads at night when you can only see the immediate road
• abandoned parking lots (office buildings, homes)
• anywhere immediately after a really bad fight
• little towns late at night when no ones awake and the only lights on are the street posts

• empty buses before sunrise/after sunset
• being the only one outside in the early morning when its almost dark and you feel alone on earth
• mountains with a big forest close to it
• being alone in a spot in ikea
• the lakeside anytime between 2 and 6 am
• firework shows when you’re sitting on the grass
• staring up at very tall buildings
• the tram at a big airport
• abandoned house by a lake

• being the only one downstairs on christmas  
• stepping outside in the early morning when it has just snowed
• when its dark and you see snowflakes falling down in the light of a lamppost on the lonely road
• that one clear spot in the forest with trees surrounding it
• a parked car in a snow/thunderstorm
• corn fields with the wind blowing over them
• malls when they’re about to close for the night
• woods at twilight/dawn
• being on a train after midnight
• theme parks at night

• winding back roads with rolling fog
• seeing “open” signs when its really foggy and cloudy
• being in a train that was crowded when you got in and now its quiet, looking at the seats knowing that there were people sitting there moments ago and now they’re gone
• hiking trails that have nobody on them
• being alone in an elevator for a few minutes
• looking down at the forest when you’re standing somewhere high and seeing the top of the trees with fog lingering over them
• the ferry about to take off in the middle of the night
• tree houses
• empty seats on the late night train
• 4-6 am on a winter morning

• the clouds/damp coming out of your mouth when its really cold in the morning
• stepping out on an unfamiliar metro/train stop
• greenhouses that have been left to grow alone
• cemeteries in the middle of fields
• biking/walking on the main road when its dark without cars
• swamps with fog
• hotel corridors in the middle of the night
• anywhere where you can hear a train whistle in the distance but you can’t see it or know just how far away it is
• foggy mornings in a meadow
• that flickering streetlight
• working offices at midnight

• abandoned amusement parks
• mirrors in an airplane bathroom
• being alone in a church
• empty hotel lobbies
• hearing trains off in the distance especially at night
• snow falling down in general
• being in a place thats supposed to have a lot of people but it doesn’t
• long, dark hallways
• the middle of a park when its snowing
• playgrounds at night
• work/school when you’re snowed in
• caves
• a field of power lines
• being in a forest where there are train tracks not knowing if the train may even ever approach
• bonfires

• being in a different room than everyone else at a party
• the woods on a night with a full moon
• empty stables
• empty metro stations that are usually crowded
• gas stations on long mountain roads
• the old part of a city when you’re the only one in the street
• stadiums when a game or concert is over
• entering a building with a really high ceiling
• moonlight, anywhere

• empty tennis or baseball courts with limited lightning
• times when you are transitioning from one phase to another
• lodges in the snow
• frozen water in the winter
• a little lake in the middle of the forest
• campus during summer
• family gatherings
• construction site after works have gone home
• leaving a tent at midnight
• lonely swings
• overgrown fields
• from twilight to dusk
• farmland thats covered in the morning fog
• suburban neighborhoods filled with tension and wind before a large summer thunderstorm
• being at an abandoned place knowing that years ago at that exact same moment there were people
• the feeling of being chased by someone/something
• knowing you’re not alone in a certain place like a forest

this feeling is scary as FUCK it dawns upon you that something is so quiet or abandoned or empty and vacant that its like the universe forgot to make something happen in the one spotlike you found a glitch in real life like everything seems fake and unreal and real and not fake all at one and youre so confused

An open invitation to Artists from Artists Everyday

Hey everyone! It’s Sean, and I have SO much stuff in the works, for both myself as an artist, and for Artists Everyday as a whole!

For those of you that don’t know, I started Artists Everyday around the time I came back to school from my internship at Cartoon Network in 2015. I went to SIU (which I just graduated from), a state school in the middle of nowhere Southern Illinois. (Carbondale to be exact; I’m pretty sure its the center of the Universe, but I digress). I studied animation, but I knew from personal experience how hard it was to be an artist who wanted to work in animation, especially being that I didn’t go to a fancy art school, and didn’t have any connections in the industry. I’ve always been a big fan of blogs that serve as galleries for artists and share artist’s work, so I made the blog initially as a way to reblog other people’s art.

My internship allowed me to meet a host of amazing and talented artists, some I definitely still consider friends, but one of the things that it opened my eyes to the most was the sheer lack of information and transparency that there was in animation. Prior to being hired, I couldn’t find more than scraps of information detailing the internship experience, or how to even go about really getting one. The lack of information, or the lack of the right KIND of information, is what drove me to make this post about my experience and my time as an intern at CN: http://seanwillustration.tumblr.com/post/137138709510/my-life-as-a-cartoon-network-intern-and-how-i

I was expecting people to appreciate what I’d written, but I never could have imagined the response to my post being as massive as it was. 

When thousands of people started sharing what I’d written, and messages from artists either looking to find out how/where to apply for internships, or asking me to review their portfolios (a laughable thought considering I still have yet to create a proper animation portfolio) started flooding in; I KNEW we (artists as a collective whole) were fucked. Every new message in my inbox drew my mind back to one idea: nobody knows what to do. NOBODY seems to know how to get into the industry. I was receiving messages from artists on here that I’d followed YEARS prior, and thought were working professionals… (based on their talent levels/audiences etc.) and they were asking ME: a junior (at the time) at a school in Southern Illinois for help on getting into the animation industry.

And I don’t know SHIT about getting into the animation industry. Not a thing. Even though I interned there, I don’t have any of the magical keys that lead to Cartoon Network. Or any of its employers (for those who’ve asked)

I created Artists Everyday so I can share art, because I know how hopeless it can feel to be a small creative swimming in a vast, endless internet; trying to reach this mythical magical idea of working in animation. I know how it can feel to work on something for hours and put your work, passion and life into a piece- only to share it online and get 3 notes, or a reblog, or a like.

It’s frustrating to feel like this intangible thing that you’ve loved since you were a kid could be yours… if you only had more followers, or a wider reach, or more information, or the RIGHT information, or if you drew a certain way, or used the right hashtags. It’s all too much, and it all takes away from what’s important: your art.

Artists Everyday is my own personal answer to a lot of questions I’ve had in my short career, and some you all may have had yourselves; so here’s the point:

(Finally)

I’ve shared my story as an artist, and as I do more and experience more and work more, I’m going to continue sharing my story. Not because I have all of the answers, but because the answers that I DO have, have allowed me to graduate from a school in the middle of Illinois, and still work full time as a freelance animator, supporting myself fully by making art. 

I can share the negative experiences and pitfalls that I’ve experienced freelancing, and dealing with clients, and how to avoid all of the crazy bullshit that goes along with making art your job, and I plan to..

But this is an invitation to you all; to anyone who read this far and anyone who can relate to some of the things that I’ve talked about in the past or even in this post; I want to hear your stories. I want to hear about your triumphs and pitfalls as an artist. I want to share not only your art, but your stories as well; because it’s that information that I feel is the most important, and the most helpful.

My inbox is OPEN; tell me about the terrible clients you’ve had. Tell me about the bad employers (In animation or art) that you’ve had to deal with; tell me about ALL OF IT. 

I want to hear about the troubles and the fears that you all have about your own art, so that I can better learn how to share and make artists feel like they can share what they make with an audience that will receive them; even if they’re not drawing Steven Universe fanart or even if they’re not a professional in the industry. Your stories; professional, amateur, and otherwise are all just as important as the art that you make, and it could help another artist somewhere down the line.

So please, reblog this; send me a message; tell your artist friends, send me some artists to look up, send me your work,  tell me your stories, tell me how you made it, how you didn’t make it, all of it.

You’re not alone. Even you, sitting there on your computer late at night, ready to post that artwork you made and hope people see even though you didn’t go to CalArts. Even though you go to a state school. Or you, the person who’s never even seen a mountain in person, let alone LA, or anywhere else animation is made… Or you, the CalArts student who didn’t make the best film, or had professors that don’t like you… or ANYONE in between. Share this. Share something. Send me a message, draw something for yourself. I’m cool with all of it.

I want to continue building Artists Everyday as a resource and tool for artists, not just a submission blog. And your stories are going to be the beginning

If you read this far. You’re dope.

-Sean

❧ x.mh | quiet

foreign exchange! minghao/ the8 + reader

Originally posted by saebum

word count : 1639 words.
genre : angst but like ,, depressing kind
synopsis : he was quiet, always quiet, and the one who could make him smile, was too busy smiling because of someone else.

✐ jsahfskdhfds im sorry minghao stans brb. djshf i know i keep promising to write fluff here but damn ur girl ain’t deliverin im sorry !! i will try to post a fluff one soon aksdhfsdfg (maybe with a specific tall nerd n mornings tsk tsk no spoilers). grab some cleenex but not too much bcuz u will feel bad for the boy ?? but guilty for (most probs) lovin that jun action.

Everything was quiet.

It was the way he liked it, after all there were no chattering students speaking in much too rapid English for his poor ears and much too stressed swearing for his soft heart. He had always been a home-schooled child, who went to college, free-spirited and happy, and was asked to take part in a foreign exchange.

Keep reading

all of my freaking headcanons

Hold on guys this is gonna be a long ride-



Jesse will eat certain meats like chicken or rabbit, but he won’t eat steak or mutton unless he absolutely has to, and will NEVER eat pork. Ever.

Lukas sometimes builds giant statues of himself.

Olivia sometimes rambles on about redstone to her friends, who have absolutely no clue what she`s talking about.

Petra and Jesse are evenly matched in terms of combat, but Petra has the slightly better reflexes.

Axel tries to stand next to Jesse a lot to make himself look tall.

Ivor acts like Jesse’s dad, and will freak out if he thinks Jesse is hurt or in trouble.

Jesse also gets annoyed by Ivor`s dad behavior sometimes.

Petra often sneaks out at night to go mob-slaying without anyone`s knowing.

Olivia sometimes write down simple tutorials on how to build redstone contraptions and attempts to sell them on the streets. (It`s semi-successful.)

The Order often wear disguises when going out in public to do some stuff to avoid attention.

The only person shorter than Jesse is Dan.

Lukas is shy about asking his friends with training or help with something.

Petra doesn`t really like non-meat foods that aren’t sweets.

Lukas is the fangirl magnet of the group. He gets the most dirty fan-art and slightly creepy compliments.

Jesse gets a lot of short person jokes in fan mail. Which Jesse immediately throws at Axel`s face. It is all Axel`s fault.

Axel doesn’t like sharing food.

Axel`s not fat. Well not completely fat.

Lukas often asks Jesse to spar with him instead of Petra, because Jesse is more chill about stuff, while Petra`s like Undyne making pasta when it comes to fighting.

The fans want Jesse to dye his hair purple. None of the New Order really knows why, but the fans do.

Lukas has a fear of lava.

Petra secretly wishes Jesse wasn`t so cHILL ABOUT EVERYTHING.

Axel will willingly participate in redstone engineering with Olivia… as long as it involves TNT.

Olivia REALLY likes to drink milk.

Ivor likes to steal Olivia`s redstone for potions.

If one of Ivor`s friends are down, he won’t usually provide very helpful advice or support unless it`s Jesse. (*COUGH* FATHERANDSON *COUGH*)

Lukas likes fishing.

Jesse is decent with a bow and arrow, but still prefers swords.

Jesse is also a slight huge fucking weeaboo.

Ivor calls Axel tubby. Axel doesn’t like this.

Ivor had a secret stash of cookies that he steals from Axel.

Ivor plays pranks on the local kids on Halloween while they`re tick-or-treating.

Jesse likes to take walks in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep, even in winter.

Thanks to me drowning Jesse two times, I have decided Jesse isn`t that good of a swimmer.

Petra slaps anyone who makes her mad. She`d do it even to the dead Wither Storm.

Axel sometimes plays pranks on the other NOOTS members with Ivor.

Olivia one time accidentally flung Redstone into Lukas` eyes. Boy that was a fun experience.

Em is evenly matched with Petra in terms of arm wrestling.

Nobody can beat them in an arm wrestling contest.

Ivor has a room in the NOOTS temple where the floor is lava covered by two layers of black stained glass.

Lukas screams when people look at his journal without asking.

Lukas is secretly a very good artEEST.

Em gives Jesse Noogies because he’s freaking tiny.

Everyone in the NOOTS call Jesse ‘Jess’ a lot which annoys the crap out of him.

Em and Axel are perfect for each other (Not romantically). They’re always talking about explosions and things they think are cool.

Lukas can actually lift up Axel if he’s REALLY angry.

Lukas is bisexual.

Ivor steals food.

Petra makes cookies Undyne-style.

Jesse is calm until you insult him. He then proceeds to beat the crap out of you.

Petra treats Jesse like a little brother. I swear they`re all family.

Everyone goes on adventures in the portal hallway once in a while. It`s a lot more fun when you can find your way home.

All the guy fans have a massive crush on Petra. Whoever flirts with her gets a sword up the anus.

Axel is the guy who plays pranks on the rest of the NOOTS and records it and then proceeds to post it on social media.

Everyone is careful not to eat ham in front of Jesse.

Lukas has a diary, and freaks out if anyone knows about it.

Everyone in the NOOTS is afraid of bats for some reason. The NOOTS fan club finds that hilarious.

The NOOTS is squad goals af.

Ivor has trouble opening up to people, even if they`re close to him.

Lukas had to save Jesse from drowning once. It wasn`t fun.

Olivia likes Winter best. “Screw Summer”, as she has said.

Jesse is terrified of thunderstorms and he is reminded of the Wither Storm when he hears them.

Jesse hates it when his friends know he`s down or in a bad situation. He`s afraid they`ll look at him as weak.

Lukas is great at swimming.

Axel is actually a really good baker.

Lukas` nickname is “Luke”. He doesn`t get annoyed when he’s called it, unlike Jesse with his nickname.

Jesse owns a Saitama body pillow.

Lukas is a great cook.

The NOOTS are actually more like a band of siblings when not in public.

Olivia hates nicknames for whatever reason.

Jesse likes to crack puns. Only Axel likes them.

Em does not know what an “inside voice” is.

There`s crazy conspiracy theories that the NOOTS created the Wither Storm and killed the OOOTS. Ivor doesn`t like the theory.

Jesse and Petra both have a lot of scars on their arms. Probably because they like to go in head-first.

Jesse is an all-nighter. Lukas doesn`t like this and drags him to bed by 4:00 am.

Petra tells their fans that she`s actually the leader of the NOOTS. Nobody believes her.

Ivor is a hermit x1000. He`s also lazy a lot. 

WIP Wednesday

Here we go, it’s been a looong time since I posted something from the San Junipero AU. It’s still coming. Slow but sure. Or maybe just slow.

“Yuuko told me that you’re here almost every night,” Viktor says, hands in his coat pockets as he approaches the boards. Yuuri looks down to straighten his glove; Makkachin scales the bleachers again. “Nobody else is ever here?”

“I’m not sure many other people know it’s here,” Yuuri says softly, still looking at his gloves. “I, um, think I might have made this place? Accidentally? And there’s a bigger rink further into town, where I think people play hockey. You’re the first person I’ve ever—ever seen here, aside from me.” He turns and drifts away, skates gliding almost soundlessly along the ice. “It looks just like the rink I skated at in my childhood, you see. Before I moved to America to pursue my career.”

“Is that where you are now?” Viktor asks, skates forming on his feet as he steps onto the ice. “America?”

“No,” Yuuri says, but doesn’t elaborate.

“They must be more lax about their regulations on the system, wherever you are,” Viktor says, desperately trying to get Yuuri to tell him something, anything about himself. “Most visitors are only allowed on once a week, were I’m from. Any more than that and they start worrying about your ability to tell what’s real and what isn’t. Dissociating. That sort of thing.”

“That’s not…really a problem for me,” Yuuri says softly. “I don’t really have anything to confuse it with. When I’m not here, I'm…not anywhere.”

That close to death? Viktor wants to ask, but knows that some people are sensitive about that topic. Viktor is one of them.

Yuuri turns around and skates backwards as Viktor continues forwards. He tilts his head to the side and asks Viktor, “Do you remember any of your old routines?”

Viktor grins. “Darling, I remember every routine I’ve ever choreographed.” He taps his head. “I may not be much to look at nowadays, but my brain—that’s a steel trap.” For figure skating, anyway. He thinks he may have broken every promise he’d ever made to another human, but he’s never forgotten a single step sequence.

“You seem like plenty to look at to me,” Yuuri says softly. There is a blushing tenderness to his expression as he narrows his stride for Viktor to close in, the two of them now moving carefully within each other’s space. Viktor never skated with a partner, and his only experience with tandem skating was teaching students their routines, but he imagines that this is similar to what ice dancers feel. Tuning your body in to the fine frequencies of another person, reading the subtle movements of their muscles to decode how you, yourself, should move. Yuuri settles into a glide, pushes his hair behind his ear and asks, “Would you show me?”

“One of my old routines?” Viktor asks.

“Yes.”

Viktor considers this. There are hundreds to choose from; after retiring he’d made his living coaching and choreographing several consecutive generations of figure skaters. He took over Yakov’s roster after his heart attack and then, after the man died and Viktor discovered he had been left everything, moved into Yakov’s house and built on a dormitory-style addition that could house ten students. Young skaters came from the world over to attend his ‘school.’ In the mornings, they got up before dawn and went straight to the rink. In the evenings, Viktor sat at the large dining room table with books, pens, pencils, laptops, tablets and ten students and made sure they were training their minds as surely as their bodies. It was a winning strategy; at one point, he had a National Champion from every continent on his roster.

Of course, he got old. He reached a point where teaching choreography was an impossibility, and like Yakov before him was forced to hand over the reins. But his love for the sport and for his art, the things he could express with his body and a pair of skates, never left him.

“Alright,” Viktor says. “I think I have one.”

Yuuri skates eagerly to the boards, which he lifts himself onto easily, skates thumping and leaving no mark. Viktor used to yell at his students for such a thing; but then, it’s not as if Yuuri can hurt himself if he falls backwards.

Viktor skates out to the middle of the rink. Around him, the lights dim as he breathes deep. The opening strains of a song barely remembered start quiet on the speaker system; Viktor wasn’t sure that there would be enough of it left in his mind for it to play, but it does. When he hears it, it’s like a reflex; his body still remembers this routine after so many years. It was a crowd favorite; his free skate for one of his last seasons and his gala skate from then until the day he retired. He thinks it had something to do with the sweeping, grand sound of the tenor’s voice, singing a song that anyone could understand even with no Italian in their vocabulary.

What he never told anyone was that for some reason, one day, he sat down and choreographed a pairs routine to the duetto reprisal from later in the opera. It was an idle thing, probably something he did just to see if he could. It’s one of those routines that has rattled around in his head, unused, for decades. He’d never coached a pairs team. He’d never had a reason to use it.

For some reason, as he performs this routine in front of a beautiful man in a world that doesn’t exist, it’s the only thing on his mind.

Stammi vicino, non te ne andare…

When he finally comes to a stop, arms folded over his chest and panting at the ceiling, lungs aching from the exertion—and isn’t that odd? That lungs can hurt in a place like this—he realizes that he only has five minutes left.

Yuuri is skating over to him, blades quick on the ice. Viktor looks to him, and sees a still-wet tear stain on both cheeks.

“That was beautiful,” Yuuri says softly, once he’s within earshot. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Now I know why you were so famous.”

Viktor hums out a laugh and reaches out a hand to Yuuri’s cheek, thumbs away the wetness there. Yuuri’s breath stutters and Viktor murmurs, “I’m sorry it made you so sad.”

“Not sad,” Yuuri whispers. “Just…emotional. I cry when I’m emotional, it’s something I’ve always done. I’m not sure why.” He reaches up his own gloved thumb to swipe away the other tear. Viktor feels somehow cheated; he wanted to wipe away that one, too. “What does it say? The song? It’s about love, right?”

“All the best songs are,” Viktor chuckles. Three minutes left. He drops his hand from Yuuri’s face and slides a little closer, until he has to consciously tip his head down to meet Yuuri’s eyes. “Stay close to me, never let me go.”

Yuuri’s eyes go wide, his breath hitching. A delicate and beautiful blush rises onto his cheeks.

“That’s what the song says.”

“Speed Force has a crush on Barry pass it on.”

“PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER.  …itty bitty living space.”
“I’m six two.

The incomparably lovely @je-ne-ai-pas-peur​ and I were talking Speed Force last night, found a fantastic tangent, and I’ve decided to make a masterpost of that shenaniganry.

Enjoy.

Keep reading

Red - Chapter 11 “Green Monster” - Outlaw Queen Fanfic


Art by the amazing starscythe <3

What if Robin Hood hadn’t been able to save his wife when she caught a deadly disease while carrying his child? What if the Evil Queen had summoned him instead of the Huntsman to hunt down Snow White?

Outlaw Queen / AU Enchanted Forest / Angst, Drama, Romance / Rated M

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

It hadtaken her three whole days. 

Forthree days, Robin had not been graced even with a single glimpse of her shadow. 

The day after the mermaid incident he had woken up in the middle of the afternoon – still with his limbs aching from the straining and most senseless adventure he had ever had. He had gone to her chambers as soon as he had put something in his stomach. But she had not been there; she was nowhere to be found in the entire castle. He had asked around, every guard, every single soldier in sight but nobody seemed to know where she was, had been last seen with him the day before and then nothing. 

Robin was confused, painfully so, the numb feeling on his chest for once did not assist him in clearing his head off the events of that day. 

He did not know how to feel about it. He did not even know how he could feel anything at all. That day - the day she had almost killed half fish Snow White and they had been trapped on that damned tree - had been one of the most insane days of his life. 

He did not know what had possessed him to follow her - especially after she had dumped him inside that cold river. He had felt uneasy about her going out all by herself, even though he knew that she was more than capable to fare for herself. He did not even pretend that he was honoring his post as captain of her personal guard, that title and a pile of horse manure had the very same importance to him. 

Riding the whole night, he was able to reach the seaside kingdom just before sunrise and as soon as he found civilization, started inquiring about the whereabouts of the castle. It had not been that difficult to spot it, nor to find the Queen, for she was hoisting up a mermaid on the deck situated directly in front of the castle. A mermaid that had looked a lot like the brat she had commissioned him to kill, he felt a surge of strange joy in knowing the Queen would be fulfilling her revenge on the princess she searched for so manically. He chose to hide away near the deck, amongst several wooden barrels and boxes that were to be loaded inside a ship anchored a few paces away. She never needed to know he had been there, he just wanted to make sure nothing- 

When he had spotted the red haired girl making her way back towards the Queen Robin froze. She held unskillfully a silvery pointy object in one hand but her aim was quite clear, the Queen’s neck. He did not think twice. He shot her right in the gut, he did not even go for the mercy shot in the neck choosing to make her suffer for trying to harm her, possibly even kill his- 

But of course the Queen had acted like an ungrateful bitch from the moment she had spotted him. Their banter had been most of the times entertaining but she clearly had not been thinking straight at that particular moment. He had had just about enough of her retorts, screams and insults so he had simply walked away, had left her alone to scream at the wind. He knew she was more than capable of fairing for herself, puffing herself back home with a single flick of her wrist. 

Apparently, he had been mistaken, she had chased after him. Robin had been thoroughly confused when she called out for him the first time, 

Why hadn’t she simply used magic? 

She had looked different then, uneasy, as if she did not have all the answers in the book and also quite resolute in trying her best not to show that very same fact. However, her feelings were always bared to him for some inexplicable reason; he was able to read her moods almost second naturally by now. 

He had seen so many sides of her it made him dizzy and excessively uneasy. He had not known what to make of all the stormy spirits he had seen in her eyes, he had caught a small glimpse of her being vulnerable. It was obvious that she had been stripped of her magic and that that terrified the living shit out of her. 

He could have run, left her there, retrieved his heart from the castle and simply left forever. He would never have to listen to her insult him, or belittle him or through him in bloody rivers. He could have also bargained for his heart in exchange for assisting and protecting her. He could have even killed her himself - it would have been ridiculously easy, she was a petite woman behind all that power she had lacked at that moment - it would have only taken a snap or one single arrow. 

But the mere idea of killing her brought a chilling feeling up his spine, he could never do it, could never harm her. That realization hit him hard and deep whilst she stood in front of him waiting for his response. He did not understand why, but he simply did not have the strength to do it. Nor did he feel he was capable of leaving her to fend for herself, he would never forgive himself if something were to happen to her. Leaving her forever was completely out of the question. 

She had changed him, somehow she had. He had been then certain he would never be the same after he had met this maddening but stunning woman. He could not imagine himself being parted from her, even if she drove him up a wall with her attitude. 

He had been left with the option of simply helping her. But of course, she was not making it any easier for him, it seemed she grew more and more irritable by the second in their tracking. Their banter seemed to go on forever, her mood shifting so much Robin felt ready to simply knock her over the head and carry her unconscious self back to the castle. 

He did not, however, oppose to her shedding half her clothes off. By the time they had managed to get on top of that tree he was resolute that she had never looked more wild and exquisite. She had let down her hair, it was damp and clung to her skin in a way Robin did not know could be attractive, her brassiere was sin itself and barely left anything to the imagination, plus - after he had taken care of her skirt - quite a nice quantity of leg was at his eyes’ disposal. 

He could hardly even believe he had confessed to her about the electric feeling he experienced when they touched. He had been thankful she had not laughed at his face or taunted him but he had to salvage himself somehow so he made that ridiculous comment about her cunt being tailor made for him. He never thought it would have the effect it did upon her; she was on him a second later, all fiery, forgetting about her injured foot and her ruined clothes. 

It was a laughable affair that - for once - she had been wearing undergarments but they did not keep him from pumping his eager fingers inside her, hard and fast, and seeing her come apart with his touch. Her release over his curved fingers did something to Robin; it flared him up with an indescribable amount of pride and smugness. Of course, it had been his fatal mistake to actually voice his feelings the way he did. When her eyes acquired a new shimmer, they had been wide and almost unblinking. She was more looking through him, his words snapped her out of her haze but it only took a second for her to get her claws around his neck. Something that brought him back to their first time together, when she had almost killed him for having failed is mission. 

The situation then had been quite similar, for he felt her clutch was mighty even for a woman of her physical stature. Last time she had been assisted by magic but now even though he knew she was not using any of it she was managing to strangle him alright. However, Robin found himself unable to harm her, he did not have the strength to pull her hands away, and instead he just regarded her with questioning eyes. 

Why? 

Why was she doing this? 

Why would she try to kill him? 

When their eyes met it was as if a spell on her own had been broken, her clutch became nonexistent and her body feel on his. This was the most unusual part of this whole exchange, the fact that after trying to openly kill him, she would quite simply through her weight on him and sigh. 

Weak 

I am not weak

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Switchblade (2/?)

Something based off of Yetiokay’s Michael from the streets!AU. This is kind of a work in progress, and I don’t know yet how often I’ll post, or how long this story will turn out.

Pairings: AH OT6

Summary: “AU where Jersey is a super dangerous place (because it really is) full of gangs and criminals. Michael’s lived on the streets his whole life and has learned to fend for himself and lots of people fear him.” When he meets the AH crew, he learns that there might actually be more to life than just surviving. 

Warnings: Language, violence

Word count: 3,964

Other Parts

AO3

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