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[scarlettmacbeth]

Wake Your Watsons Up 10/30: Watson-cataloging

doodle by ireallyshouldbedrawing • 221B by ColebaltBlue

also on AO3

—-

He lay there in the mid-morning sun on the sofa, stretched out, newspaper still in his hands, snoring softly.  My Watson had grown lazy and domestic in his middle-age and he was charming, simply charming like this.  I paused in my experiment, pulled my lab book closer to me, and picked up my pencil nub.

1. Falls asleep while reading The Times more often than The Daily Telegraph

2. Snores while sleeping anywhere but his own bed

3. Prefers the house slippers I bought him three years ago to the pair Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas

4. Grey hair has begun to make an appearance, but it merely makes him appear more blonde

5. Has a delightful splash of freckles on his shoulders that I love to kiss, but are currently hidden by a shirt and house coat

6. Has allowed his moustache to grow frightfully bushy, must encourage him to trim it before it leaves a tell-tale rash on my neck

I stood up and made my way over to him, moving as silent as a cat.

“I could feel you staring at me,” he murmured as I approached, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You stopped snoring,” I responded as I pulled the paper out of his hands and arranged myself over him.  He blinked at me sleepily.  

[scarlettmacbeth]

Come to me. I have your favorite tea, and I'll tell you about the white snow and the gray sky over it. And there's your old calendar hanging on the wall, which I don't throw away because I'm afraid to forget how we walked until dawn. There's the same bike I drove you home on, and an old soccer ball in the corner, and your favorite books are lying next to it.

Come. I'll tell you about May, the latest news and intrigues. If you want, we will be silent, looking at the fire burning in the fireplace. Draw me a wave on the cold glass and tell me how you're doing, or say goodbye already. But it's better not to do that.. Please, not today.

Come. I will show you how I paint your portraits, and you will be surprised to find out that I smoke again, but you will not notice the sadness in my eyes. A lot of salt is being poured on my lingering wound, and I have a wagon full of stories, and a spider is sitting on the window frame. Sometimes birds chirp outside the window, and the faint smile on my face widens.

Come to me. I have your favorite tea, and I don't want to drink it with just anyone. He will dispel your sadness too. Come back, I miss you very much.

[scarlettmacbeth]

#artists

[scarlettmacbeth]

Wake Your Watsons Up 10/30: Watson-cataloging

doodle by ireallyshouldbedrawing • 221B by ColebaltBlue

also on AO3

—-

He lay there in the mid-morning sun on the sofa, stretched out, newspaper still in his hands, snoring softly.  My Watson had grown lazy and domestic in his middle-age and he was charming, simply charming like this.  I paused in my experiment, pulled my lab book closer to me, and picked up my pencil nub.

1. Falls asleep while reading The Times more often than The Daily Telegraph

2. Snores while sleeping anywhere but his own bed

3. Prefers the house slippers I bought him three years ago to the pair Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas

4. Grey hair has begun to make an appearance, but it merely makes him appear more blonde

5. Has a delightful splash of freckles on his shoulders that I love to kiss, but are currently hidden by a shirt and house coat

6. Has allowed his moustache to grow frightfully bushy, must encourage him to trim it before it leaves a tell-tale rash on my neck

I stood up and made my way over to him, moving as silent as a cat.

“I could feel you staring at me,” he murmured as I approached, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You stopped snoring,” I responded as I pulled the paper out of his hands and arranged myself over him.  He blinked at me sleepily.  

[scarlettmacbeth]

Me everytime

[scarlettmacbeth]

[scarlettmacbeth]

drawover of a comic I made in 2018 bc we are so back .. love confession hc .. john is blabbing johnchalantly abt his johnsense and this happens

[scarlettmacbeth]

Wanted to draw that scene from The Book of Bill :D

[scarlettmacbeth]

 "Knowing how genuine was her regard for him, I listened earnestly to her story when she came to my rooms in the second year of my married life and told me of the sad condition to which my poor friend was reduced."

THE DYING DETECTIVE part one - the best way of successfully acting a part is to be it.

If you're not familiar with this particular story I REALLY REALLY encourage you to read it (it's short!) because 1. it's really good and BONKERS and 2. this version is very close to the original but deviates in certain and important ways.

(this is in the Watson's Sketchbook series)

[scarlettmacbeth]

[scarlettmacbeth]

Be not afraid 👁️👁️👁️👄👁️👁️👁️

[scarlettmacbeth]

Does anybody else track their life though a series of obsessions? Like “ah yes, i remember that happening, i was obsessing over Star Gate Atlantis at the time,” or, “this was during my Supernatural era.” I can map out my whole life in this way.

[scarlettmacbeth]

*click & zoom for better view / HD versions on my dA*

And then God said thou shall give all demons soft animal crowns.

Crowley - apple tree flowers & red bellied snake

Ligur - chameleon plants & veiled chameleons

Hastur - texas frog fruits & casque headed frogs

Eric - fringed spider flowers & blue and white flycatchers

Dagon - bladder wracks & albino fangtooth moray eels

Beelzebub - zebra stripped huernias & giant blue bottle flies

[scarlettmacbeth]

about angels and their purpose 🪽💫

[scarlettmacbeth]

there must be something 😳 I can do for you 😳 in return?

[scarlettmacbeth]

Good Omens - Fanfic - AO3 - Love

The world was safe.

The world was outside.

Their world was contained by the cozy sofa, the plush carpet, the warm-colored walls, and their companionship. They had not discussed it; it just happened. One thing led to another, until the night brought them together with a glass of red wine in hand. The booming chuckles subsided into a gentle murmur, and the quiet fell over them like a blanket shielding them from cold and despair.

Safe. Aziraphale savored the sensation. Perhaps it was the wine's effect, or Crowley's igniting closeness, or the strange atmosphere they had unknowingly created together, a miracle that required no snapping. Aziraphale chose to articulate what he had been forming in his mind for a considerable amount of time as the night licked its lips with anticipation:

—Dear… 

Crowley turned to look at him intently, feeling a current of electricity course through his veins as he heard the pet name.

—Do you ever think —Aziraphale went on— about... us?

A brick to the head could not have left him any more stunned. His heart was in his throat, his pulse had died.

—Us —Crowley said, startled—. What do you mean?

Aziraphale did not hesitate. With his eyes hidden behind his dark glasses, Crowley's lips quivered. Could it be that the demon was just as afraid of the word that explained everything while leaving them with more questions than answers? Being a longtime friend of words, Aziraphale was well acquainted with this one; all he needed was the bravery to speak up and face the pain of loss, the possibility of rejection, the twist of hope, and the joy of finally confessing the truth.

—Love —merely uttering the word, Aziraphale let it sink in between them.

Crowley froze. His brain malfunctioned.  It seemed like a trap; nothing is ever that easy. Yearning for the fruit he was never supposed to have for six million years; alluring him with its elegance, grace, and fragrance while remaining forever out of reach. He could tolerate the silent pain, the blind fury, and the melancholy that abandoned him to the isolation of banishment and cracked his black soul. Yet this was going too far. He would never been subjected to such brutal torture. Give him suffering and anguish; that is what the universe was made of, but there was no hope in Hell. 

Once a part of them, the silence rose abruptly in its coarseness. Writhing in agony, Aziraphale's soul waited a few more seconds. Then it buckled, bleeding from the inside out, and pulled itself together, prepared to give up and tend to its wounds. 

—I will go... fetch more wine —with a sigh, Aziraphale got up from the couch. It was the saddest sigh Crowley had ever heard.

—Wait —Crowley frantically grasped his hand. He ripped his glasses from his face in an instant and stood next to his angel, trembling like a leaf.

Sky blue and bright yellow met in a vulnerability-laden gaze.

—Yes —Crowley admitted— I do.

—Really? —the angel inquired.

He had not noticed his bated breath until he abruptly expelled the air trapped in his lungs. The smile began timidly and gradually spread across Aziraphale's face. His eyes sparkled with joy, and his laughter echoed throughout the room.

 —Oh dear, you scared me so much, for a second I thought… but no, and I'm so happy for that, I knew, well, at least, I hoped, so much, so much hope contained deeply in my bones, and so many times I considered that I had been misreading it all, thought that maybe those looks, those grand gestures of yours were not beyond a pure and sincere friendship, and… yes we are good friends, but also more, so much more, or that is what I long for, what I have been pining for for six million yea…

His mumbling became a stutter as lips met Crowley's, his fingers tightening on the coat lapels. He froze, his hands flapping briefly in midair before settling on shoulders that eased slightly at his touch. A cry of pure happiness burst from his chest, and he kissed back, finally able to give in and let go of the long-neglected desire. Who would have imagined that Crowley was capable of such a tender kiss, that his initially harsh hands would eventually move down his torso and land on his waist, and that the heat from his forked tongue would tickle his mouth each time it caressed his own. Crowley took a sharp breath through his nose and broke off the kiss, overwhelmed by a liquor sweeter than wine and a thousand times more addictive.

 —I cut you off, angel—Crowley apologized, a pleasure-filled smile spreading throughout his body.

—I forgive you —Aziraphale laughed joyfully, leaving soft caresses on his chest.

The first kiss was worth the long wait; the second kiss came quickly; the third kiss left them unable to count anymore. 

[scarlettmacbeth]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Gentle Kissing, In Vino Veritas, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Aziraphale (Good Omens), Pining Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), True Love, Happy Ending, Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Patient (Good Omens), Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Everyone Is Gay, Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Love (Good Omens), Canon Compliant Summary:

The world is safe. Aziraphale and Crowley must now overcome the tension that has them on edge and say the word that will change everything between them.

Rewriting The Ineffable First Kiss. Rewriting the infamous line "I forgive you."

Very short. Very sweet.