Hi, I'm Edith and I like to draw stuff because I become obssesed over other stuff.
#YOconAMLO
my stuff
¿arte?
motivation
deviantart
my reblog tumblr
GRACIAS :D <3 me iré a pasear por su página, suena bien :)
Aaaw ;A; ¡¡¡¡Graciaaas!!!! Significa un montón que te haya gustado *—* <333
I owe this one to Cydalima since… I can’t remember. Too much time.
Men on naked men nsfw ahead.
Another background I had somewhere… forgotten. This is pretty inaccurate in every way possible :/
More junk from my sketchbook :B
“Lestrade, show me the body.”
“Sherlock What the hell.”
John’s little and gets tired easily.
so cute
And I’m just going to sit here and wait for the ficlet…..
(Well, here goes…)
There had been something new amiss at Baskerville, and Sherlock had been called back in to investigate. One of the employees had been stealing an experimental anti-aging drug and selling it to other countries overseas.
Unfortunately, in the process of apprehending the thief and recovering the drug, John was injected with a large dose of it and woke up the next morning having retrograded to the physical age of about five years old.
He’d been rather distraught, naturally—even moreso when Sherlock insisted on taking a case instead of getting right to finding a cure for John’s condition—but in the end Sherlock convinced him to tag along, promising that he’d come up with some sort of excuse for having a child with him.
On the way, John fell asleep, his tiny head resting against the door of the cab. Sherlock shook him awake when they arrived.
“John. We’re here.”
“Go ‘way,” he grumbled, curling closer to the door.
“I need your assistance with this body, John. Get up,” said Sherlock, more sharply this time.
“Piss off.” The cabbie looked back and glared accusingly at Sherlock at that.
Sherlock grit his teeth. “Get up right now or I shall carry you out myself.”
“Fine!” The boy-shaped man crossed his arms stubbornly, eyes still closed. Without another word, Sherlock opened the door and marched around the cab to the other side, pulling John’s door open and wrestling him out of his seat. John struggled for a few moments before glaring and shutting his eyes again, his head falling against Sherlock’s shoulder. Sighing, the consulting detective adjusted his grip and carried the sleeping child into the crime scene. Several members of the Yard’s finest gawked as the he walked past, but he ignored them and approached the Detective Inspector.
“Lestrade,” he said in greeting. “Show me the body.”
Lestrade looked at him, then to the boy, then back to him. “Sherlock. What the hell?”
I hope you don’t mind if I continue this…?
.
Lestrade glanced around awkwardly as the mothers on the team glared at him. “Well he has just brought a—”
“It’s John,” Sherlock muttered as he shifted him from one side to the next. John yawned sleepily, eyes falling shut as his face pressed against Sherlock’s coat and arms went around Sherlock’s neck.
“Sher,” he murmured sleepily, and Sherlock hushed him with a gentle hand rubbing his back. “Sher.”
Lestrade watched, amazed, as John breathed in deeply, fisting his hands in the coat. ”He’s…”
“A child, yes,” Sherlock sounded bored, though a small smile appeared on his face as John’s breathing evened out. “There is no reason to panic.”
“No reason to panic? How long is he going to be like that?” John shifted in Sherlock’s arms, opening one eye grumpily.
“As long as it takes us to find out what’s going on around here, Anderson.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow, starting to walk past them. “And as easy as that would generally be for me, your constant nattering about the most obvious things is hardly helping. Did something happen to you as a child? Did your mother drop you on your head and make common practice of you pointing out things everybody already knew to preserve your brain, because if that was her aim, she did not—”
John sighed on his shoulder, suddenly pressing a small kiss to his cheek and giggling madly. Sherlock paused, eyes wide as John hugged him and continued to rest silently. Lestrade snorted, opening the door and disappearing through it. “Cute, John, but we are talking about Sherlock, here.”
Sherlock stood still, staring at John for a few more seconds before brushing sandy hair out of blue eyes and pressing a small, awkward kiss to his tiny cheek.
Rolling his eyes, he walked quickly to the door, mind already three steps ahead.
I need more, I loved it <3
I can’t even do a decent walking cycle OTL This is pretty old and Sherlock looks so odd.
Watch this and listen to Staying Alive. It’s perfect.
Hahahahaha xD
El príncipe ahogó un grito al sentir lo helado del agua. La anciana lo había arrastrado sin compasión al río y ahí hizo que se quitara las botas y entrara de lleno a la corriente.
— ¡No puedo enseñarte nada sin dos peces! — le gritó. Te dejaré ahí hasta que lo hagas, era lo que realmente le decía.
Se quedó muy quieto, temblando de frío.
— ¡Muévete! ¡Entra más al río! —Él volteó a verla de reojo. Se había echado entre la hojarasca y le sonreía mostrando todos los dientes.Respiró lento y profundo. Le daba miedo entrar más al río. Estaba seguro de que si algo salía mal, no tendría a nadie que lo rescatara.
Algo de una pequeña historia que tengo por ahí. Ahí perdonen la redacción ):
I can’t even do a decent walking cycle OTL This is pretty old and Sherlock looks so odd.
Still practising with scenery. The second one… sucks, really ):
I took references from where my grandma’s house is. I love this place, it looks so much better in real life -obviously-.