Sam’s Shenanigans Studio

artist | she/her | Art Prints 🚫 please do not repost/use/edit/train AI with my work, thank you!

[sam-art21321]

Realizing that my blog is now becoming chaotic as I start to post more art/reblog other content. I’ve gone back and added a few tags to help filter!

Please do not repost/edit/use any of my work or post it on another platform—thank you🫶

Main Fandoms:

Dead Boy Detectives

Young Sherlock

Blog Tags

🖼️ my original art: doodles to full pieces

✍️ my snips: fic wips

💭 musings: text posts, queries, inbox replies, etc

[sam-art21321]

Happy Sherlock. Pre-horrors and pre-divorce.

[ahyperactivehero]

Make Me Write?

doing another make me write thing because sometimes it's the only way to brute force the adhd bounce arounds lol featuring some new fics!

DBDA 1. 🏒 - Greatest In the League- Hockey player Charles and figure skater Edwin meet in college. Love ensues.

2. 🕸️- Spider-Man!Charles AU- Because @sam-art21321 has given me brain worms and now I want to continue to write more connected to my Spider-Man AU oneshot (both a longer fic and possibly more oneshots) 3. ✨ - Under the Whispering Door AU- Edwin dies and is collected by a reaper and taken to ferryman Charles, who is supposed to help him move on. Spoiler alert: they fall in love.

Young Sherlock

⚡- A(n Electro)Shock to the System- Sherlock and electroshock therapy. When Sherlock goes missing, James is forced to team up with Mycroft to find him. Canon divergence for episode 4.

😈- Crossroad Style Demon!James- Silas makes a deal with the devil and has to sacrifice one of his kids. He originally planned for it to be Bea, but now it looks like it will be Sherlock.

[dbdaoraclecards]

Reminder! Oracle Decks coming soon!

The store to purchase your own DBDA Oracle Deck will be open soon. Keep your eyes open for your chance to own your own deck full of gorgeous DBDA art!

[sam-art21321]

You won’t wanna miss out on this👀

[sam-art21321]

After years of just looking…the boys are finally kissing👀

I held off drawing them kissing for so long—it felt daunting after apparently only drawing them looking at each other like the cover of a paperback romance novel/movie😂Anywhoodle, now the curse is broken and they can now kiss as many times as they want.

[on-till-morning]

Inaccurate quotes?

Bonus:

[swordfish-606]

Oh, the feelings I have about this one, single moment in Young Sherlock. (Yap incoming)

In my opinion this is THE most important line in the show.

There is less than a minute left in the episode, and this is what everything has been leading up to -- and it is portrayed just beautifully by the actors.

From James, the long pause. The complete stillness in said pause. The unwavering eye contact. The little squint. As if he is deciding very carefully how he's going to proceed, even as he talks.

And Sherlock's reaction; he turns to look at James. Is he seeing him for the first time? This show has given us a Sherlock Holmes who has not once been afraid of sharing his true thoughts, of letting himself feel and act on his emotions, of getting close with the people that he chooses to and being fiercely protective of those he loves, of practically wearing his heart on his sleeve. And yet here, in this moment, after all the events of the season... his expression shows NOTHING. This is the most guarded and controlled we've seen him, after he has learned that sometimes the people closest to him cannot be trusted.

'Surely, by now, you know me.'

And Sherlock realises (along with we the viewers) that he doesn't. He doesn't! We don't know James at all!

We can count on one hand everything we can reasonably assume about James, and the list of things we know for certain is even shorter. We know that he is Irish. We know that he was at Oxford on a scholarship, and could not afford to pay for lodgings anywhere after losing said scholarship -- so, he is fairly poor, or at the very least doesn't have access to money. These are the things that we know for sure. He says that his father had a copy of The Art of War, and that it 'didn't do him much good' (whatever that means. It is, of course, intentionally vague on James' part). And he says that his mother died from consumption when he was very young. But that's it. And there isn't even any evidence to support what he says about his parents.

The thing about his mum in particular, he says this when he is trying to get something (to piss Sherlock off by warming up to Cordelia) (Which is another scene I have many thoughts about, but that's a whole other can of worms). He has an ulterior motive, and he uses a sob story to get there -- is he telling the truth? Or just what his goal calls for? Because we know so little about James, there is no way of knowing when he is being truthful.

And Sherlock knows this. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he knows that James has a penchant for lying to get what he wants, that he is okay with using unconventional or downright cruel methods if it means he will get what he is after. And sure, sometimes this quality is noble and brave and caring, but sometimes it is selfish and cold. And Sherlock, unfortunately, as much as he wishes he didn't, knows this. And maybe he is realising that this is something about his new friend that he can no longer continue to ignore.

And in the aftermath of this whole... situation with Silas, Sherlock is not only realising how little he knows about James and the implications of that, but he is being confronted for the first time by just how much James knows about him.

James, who he has known for at most a couple of months, and at least a few weeks (the show timeline is vague). James, Sherlock's first friend, presumably the first person outside of his family to even say they could know him at all. James who has seen Sherlock bloodied and beaten and shot, who stood by him when he was arrested for murder (after having only known him for two days!), who learned about and took in his stride all of Sherlock's extensive family issues, who saw Sherlock's own mind deteriorate. His mind, that brilliant thing that Sherlock values above all else, James saw into it like no one else ever had. And Sherlock had been so caught up in how wonderful it was to have a friendship like his and James', that maybe he had neglected to see how dangerous it could be.

He has learned that people who know everything about him have the ability to use that against him. His own father -- someone he should be able to trust above anyone else -- used his knowledge of Sherlock against him, to lie and manipulate in just the right ways. He believed Silas, and let him get away with destroying his family and keeping them apart for all these years, because Silas knew him, and knew exactly how to get to him. And Sherlock feels guilty, but he is also ashamed, and I imagine he doesn't want to let this happen ever again.

He is realising, maybe, just how similar James is to his father. Just how similar their relationship is -- one who knows everything about the other, has seen him at his very worst... and the other who knows nothing about him. And he knows exactly where that led the last time.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[sam-art21321]

Spiderman: Brand New Day has ignited so many art ideas and unforch they are all devastating.

The ideas are percolating…

[errorbasket]

Molting Spider

[sam-art21321]

Spiderman Charles is on the brain…Edwin’s too

This is the product of @ahyperactivehero and @makemeimmortalwithahug ‘s influence. Also V wrote a oneshot in this AU for Payneland week and you should read that👀

[sam-art21321]

a wip bc it’s been ages since I’ve had the motivation to draw🙃

[regretsofaghost]

i say goodbye to my demons, and carry me home in good health

Charles Rowland was a helpful boy, and when he wakes up to an unfamiliar room with mysterious sniffling, he knows he has to investigate.

Otherwise known as- The Aftermath of the Case of the Kindergarten Fairies. Otherwise known as- The Great Office Escape of 2026

AO3 link- here

Word count- 2417 words

This was made in collaboration with @sam-art21321 who did this lovely art for Pins & Patches: A Charles Rowland Zine! There is a merch shop here, and all remaining proceeds are going to Galop- a charity in the UK that works with and for LGBT+ victims and survivors of abuse and violence, and run the National Helpline for LGBT+ Victims and Survivors of Abuse and Violence in the UK.

The physical merch is only available until August 6th, 2026 at 11:59pm PST, but don't worry if you still want a digital copy of the zine, that will be available indefinitely!

Make sure to check out the AO3 collection for everyone else's wonderful fics

If you don't wanna go to ao3- never fear, under the read more is the complete fic :D

Charles Rowland liked to be liked.

It felt really nice, didn’t it. To be the one the teacher turned to when she needed an extra pair of hands, or when mama asked him to help bring the groceries in. Or his dad, when he got his team a score in their football match and won the game for them.

It filled his chest with warmth and he couldn’t stop smiling.

So, when he woke up in an unfamiliar place, and heard some soft sniffling, Charles knew he couldn’t let that go on.

No one should be allowed to be sad without someone to comfort them.

Curling in on himself, scared, so scared, so cold-

Charles sat up, and looked around the unfamiliar room that he was in.

Playing footie on the big carpet in the middle-

Grinning up at someone while he’s painting-

Warm, warm, warm-

It was a rather large room, if Charles had to describe it. Filled to the brim with knickknacks and things he wanted to check out, if he didn’t have a more important task at hand. There was a football beside a big desk, and a closet filled with games, the lone light bulb shining down on at least five different versions of Cluedo.

Charles loved Cluedo, but no one ever wanted to play with him. It was too much work, wasn’t it, when Charles was only just learning how to read.

“It’s Miss Canary with an ascot in the cellar.”

“Ha! You’re wrong-”

The sniffles continued, and Charles pushed himself off the couch, his feet silent against the floor beneath him as he stood and began to walk.

“Hello?” Charles called out, his voice loud in the quiet room, and the sniffles grew muffled, but they didn’t stop. That made Charles’ stomach feel odd, like the time a football was kicked right into him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. “Are, are you okay?”

His own voice-

Quiet, quiet, quiet sobs-

He tried to keep his steps quiet, looking under the desk first, seeing a shadow move.

Not ready.

Charles swallowed, and stood up, pretending like he hadn’t seen. “Hello?” he called again, voice softer now.

He walked towards the closet, keeping the same gentle steps, resting his hand against the doorframe as he looked inside.

There were more games, and books, and a kinda scary looking wolf… stick? in the corner, that rested far above Charles’ head.

“Meet Gerald-”

“We are not calling it that, Charles.”

Charles poked around, trying not to topple the stacks of boxes and piles of paper, taking what felt like forever in the closet, before stepping out, and walking towards the little gate at the front of the room.

This room was strange, and unlike anything Charles had seen before. It was big, and full, and felt lovely in a way that was so unfamiliar, but also felt like his room back at home.

“This is yours as much as mine, Charles, so lets make the most of it, yes?”

The sniffles were starting to get louder, and Charles shook himself before he started walking towards the big desk again.

It was a bit scary, approaching whoever, or whatever, was crying, but Charles didn’t want the other to be alone and scared and sad. Charles’ tummy felt strange as he carefully stepped behind the desk, poking his head around the back.

Pressed against the desk drawers, was a little boy.

Charles could only see the top of his head, with how curled up on himself he was, but he had a smart hair style, and blue clothes, and his shoulders shook with every muffled noise.

Green, green, green.

“Lets get you out of here.”

“Hello,” Charles said quietly, almost too quietly to be heard surely.

The other little boy made a quiet noise, and shifted, only he did not raise his head. Instead, he seemed to be pressing his hand more against his mouth, and Charles didn’t like that.

Charles nibbled his lip, for a second, then opened his mouth again, “I’m Charles, what’s your name?”

The boy made another quiet noise. He shook his head, and curled up even more into himself.

“My mama says it’s rude not to answer people,” Charles declared suddenly, though both his parents said it enough that he did remember.

Didn’t matter how little he wanted to hug Aunt Susie, if she wanted a hug she was getting a hug.

“But I don’t think so,” Charles said after a moment, hands itching to reach out and touch the other boy. “Must be a reason, isn’t there, for not answering. I found a football, do you wanna play?”

The boy shook his head, a slightly louder noise leaving him, but Charles still did not understand him.

“If you don’t know how to play, that’s okay. It’s real simple, we just have to kick it back and forth, right?” Charles wanted to go grab the football, to show this other boy, but he also really didn’t want to leave him alone.

“I’m in trouble,” the boy finally managed to get out, all while Charles struggled with keeping his hands to himself, before another sniffle left him. “Nanny always locks me in my room when I’m naughty.”

“This is your room?” Charles asked, latching onto this new, very important, information.

“No,” the other boy said, finally lifting his head. His eyes were filled with tears, and spilling down over his chubby cheeks. His hand came up to rub his cheeks, and somehow he looked more distraught when he realized what he had done. “I-I do not know where I am- But Nanny said good boys do not cry, and that if I am crying no one needs to see that.”

Charles felt that funny feeling in his tummy again, and he absolutely hated it. This boy did not deserve that- not one bit.

“I was- I was-” His breath kept hitching, and Charles wanted to wrap his arms around the boy. “I don’t remember! And I woke up- and I was here! And I must have napped, which I am not supposed to do anymore- and I must be in so so much trouble,” the boy cried, burying his face back into his knees. His shoulders shook fiercely as he cried and cried.

Charles didn't even know his name yet. He hated how distraught his new friend was, how quiet he made himself cry.

Charles’ dad always hated how loud Charles cried, always said he was trying to wake up the entire neighborhood. Didn’t matter if he got hit in the head with a football, or Charles just didn't want to go to sleep, he always had to be quieter.

“I’ll be better-”

“It’s okay-” Charles reached out, patting his friend gently on the shoulder. “I don’t know where I am either.”

That admission had the other boy lifting his head again, confusion filling his pond coloured eyes.

“What do you mean? Is this not your home?” The boy asked, voice thick with tears.

“No,” Charles shook his head, “so I think it’s okay, to be a bit confused right now. Don’t know how we got here either, do I?”

The boys blinked at Charles, clearly thinking this over, now that he knew they were on the same page.

“What’s your name?” Charles asked again, sticking his hand out like his dad did, “I’m Charles!”

“Charlie!”

“Charlie!”

“Oh Charlie, you scrapped your knee again-”

“That’s my Charlie boy!”

No, Charles.

Because the way the word was pronounced, how it felt coming out of his mouth.

He never wanted to be Charlie again.

The other boy looked at his hand before reaching his own out, shaking Charles’. His hand was cold, and soft. Charles decided he quite liked it.

“I’m Edwin- Edwin Payne,” Edwin said carefully, as if he were also well practiced in introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you Edwin Payne,” Charles smiled. “Can I give you a hug?”

Edwin tilted his head to the side, clearly confused, but Charles waited for a second before continuing, “Mama always makes me feel better with hugs. And she’s not here to give you one right now, so I can give you one instead!”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, because after another contemplative second, Edwin opened up his arms and let Charles hug him.

It was absolutely amazing.

Warm and solid and lovely, Edwin’s sweater was soft and smelt of cookies, and he hoped Edwin would let him keep hugging him, even when he wasn’t sad.

Charles only pulled away when Edwin started making little humming noises, and his hands kept opening and closing like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Feel better?” Charles asked, though Edwin looked a million times better, with no more tears falling and little hitching breathes calmed down.

“Yes,” Edwin wiped his eyes a final time, “that was nice. Thank you Charles.”

Charles smiled at Edwin, before rising to his feet.

“C’mon! Let’s play-”

“Oh, no, I can’t Charles.” Edwin said, though he sounded very sorry.

“Why not?” Charles asked, frowning now at his new friend.

“Because I’m in trouble,” Edwin’s eyes started to fill with the tears Charles just hugged away. They didn’t fall though. “Papa will be very cross if he finds me playing when I’m being punished.”

Charles stood there for a moment, thinking deeply before he reached a little hand out, towards his new friend. Edwin watched him, and that flutter in his tummy felt nice.

Charles wanted to give him another hug.

“C’mon! We can get out of here- then your papa won’t know you were playing.”

Edwin’s lips turned downward, though he did look a little bit interested. “But he’ll know if we’re gone.”

Charles grinned now, “we’ll just come back before he checks! It will be absolutely fine, Edwin.”

“We’ll get in so much trouble. For sneaking out.”

“That’s only if we get caught, right?”

Edwin looked up at Charles, and his hand, before reaching up and taking it.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Edwin’s hand was still so cold, and Charles resisted the urge to do what his mama often did.

Her soft hand holding his, bringing his hand up to her lips to breathe warm air onto his cold cold cold fingers.

Her soft lips and how she kissed each finger tip, then his nose, because he always leaned forward when she did this.

Charles pulled Edwin up to his feet, a pleased feeling zipping through his heart when he saw he was taller than the other boy. Edwin made a funny face before straightening his back, taking his hand back from Charles to fix his clothes.

He was dressed real proper, with a blue bow tie and vest, like the lads down the street who threw things at Charles when he went to ask to play with them

“Do you always wear your uniform?” Charles asked, rocking on his feet as Edwin began to fuss.

“I have play clothes- I just- I must have gotten in trouble at school.” Edwin looked to the side, momentarily forgetting his current need to try to fix his crooked bow tie. “Nanny sometimes thinks I haven’t learned yet, so she continues the punishment.”

Charles frowned, and found he didn’t want to know what kinda of things Edwin had to deal with as punishment.

His dad sometimes threw things, and got really really loud. It wasn’t nice, and it scared Charles so much.

“Hmm,” Charles hummed. “We’ll go to a park! There has to be one close by, mama likes to go for walks all over London, and she said there’s a park for every person.”

“So you would have a park and I would have a park?”

“Yes! And they’ll be right beside each other so we can play together.”

“That sounds really nice."

Charles took Edwin's hand again, “so let's go!”

Charles tugged Edwin along to the front door, trying the handle first. It didn't want to budge, but Charles wouldn't let a door make him a liar.

After pulling Edwin all over the room, and talking endlessly about his football team, and mama’s cooking, they found a big ring of keys tucked away in a desk drawer.

Stepping over all the papers and pencils and pins that now scattered the floor, Charles lead them back to the front door, and began the awful task of finding the right key.

At least, it would’ve been awful, if his new best friend hadn’t decided to quietly ask Charles for a turn.

Three keys later, the two were walking down the hallway, down some scary steps, and outside, into a wet alley.

“Maybe we were kidnapped!”

“So we wouldn't be in trouble for leaving?”

“No! Haven't you seen in the news, maybe once our parents find us at our park we’ll be all over the news.” Charles bounced, grin splitting his face, “the headline will read- ‘two brave young boys save themselves from scary kidnapper!’”

Edwin hummed, “they would have to make a more catchy title. Maybe we could find a name for ourselves?”

“Oh that’s a brilliant idea Edwin!”

And the rest of the walk was spent trying to come up with amazing names- though none sounded right.

And they eventually found a park, though they were saddened to find that another one was not right beside it, but that was okay. The two little boys had a grand time climbing up the play structure, and running around after each other. They checked to see who could run faster- Edwin won that by a landslide, please join the football team Edwin! We can play together and win loads!- competing to see who could swing higher, and even who could make it further on the monkey bars.

Charles felt his chest fill to bursting with happiness, with his new best friend and a wonderful day. Even if he missed his mama.

And when the curse faded, and two teenage ghosts were panting as they slowed to a stop on their swings, they couldn’t help but laugh at their grand escape.

“God- I thought the backpack ate those keys ages ago!”

“The Night Nurse will be quite displeased, that two children managed to escape her impenetrable door-”

They burst into hysterics again.

“Thank you Charles,” Edwin said, after a quiet moment.

“What for?”

“For being a good friend. Especially when you hadn’t a clue who I was.”

“Course mate, will always be there for you, won’t I?”

[sam-art21321]

So happy to share my piece from the @dbdauplifts Pins and Patches: A Charles Rowland Fanzine! This art is for @regretsofaghost ‘s fic Say Goodbye to My Demons, and Carry Me Home in Good Health.

It’s so sweet and I’m honored to have created this piece inspired by it! If you haven’t yet ordered a copy and want to, their shop is open till August 6th.

[ouchmyghostskin]

This has been in my wips for a while, and I’m probably not going to finish it, but since I don’t hate it I figured I’d post it. More modern au. I was thinking 90’s university thoughts.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Ashe Vernon, Post-Panic Attack || Charles Rowland, Dead Boy Detectives (2024)

[evil-masdane]

*takes puff of cigarette* so do we think that james ends up breaking Sherlock’s nose during their (inevitable) breakup but because is was james, sherlock leaves it to heal badly as a reminder and that’s how Sherlock ends up with a crooked nose in later stories