#yeahbrokenmirror

[coatandscarf]

Sherlock gets drunk & so does John, reluctantly [Omegle RP]

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You and the stranger both like sherlock rp, and johnlock.

Stranger: John? Are you at the flat? SH

You: No, grabbing some milk at Tesco's. Why? JW

Stranger: Well it doesn't matter where you are, I just wanted to ask if you could call me a cab home. SH

You: Ah, sure? Where are you? JW

Stranger: Pub. Where you usually go. SH

You: Why are you at the pub? JW

Stranger: Why are people ever at pubs? SH

You: Yeah, but you're not a drinker, Sherlock. I'll get the milk later, I'm on my way. JW

Stranger: I can be if I want to be. SH

Stranger: On your way? Where? SH

You: To you. JW

Stranger: You don't have to do that. I'm fine. SH

You: I might as well, I need to go home myself. JW

Stranger: Fine. Will you drink with me? SH

You: Depends, how much have to had to drink already? JW

Stranger: As you can see, my spelling is still intact, but my vision is blurry and it's a bit hard to walk properly. Had a few drinks. SH

You: Then I'll have one with you, Sherlock. We can't afford to both be drunk. JW

Stranger: And why not? SH

You: Because I'd really rather not deal with a hungover Sherlock when I'm hungover, too. JW

Stranger: I don't get hungvoers. They don't work on me. SH

You: You're drunk already, Sherlock. JW

Stranger: No. SH

You: Sherlock, look at what you just sent. You're starting to typo and you never typo. JW

Stranger: I did not. Looks fine to me. Shut up. SH

You: I'm putting you in the cab once I arrive. No more drinks. JW

Stranger: But they're good, the barman gives me them for free because I found his wife's murder once. SH

Stranger: murderer* ((non-intentional mistake XD))

You: ((lol, are you drunk, too? :P))

You: ((I kid, I kid. ;D))

You: Sherlock, that's a terrifying thought. I'm almost there, I'll be inside in a minute. JW

Stranger: ((LOL)) Terrifying why? Drinks are hardly terrifying. SH

You: The idea of you drinking free drinks is. Because I have a feeling you're a lightweight. JW

Stranger: Lightweight! I am not a lightweight just because my weight is light. That is very very stupid. SH

You: You /never/ drink, Sherlock. You're going to regret this come morning. JW

Stranger: I drink sometimes. Like now. SH

Stranger: I never regret things. SH

You: John stepped into the pub then, spotting Sherlock easily at his seat at the bar. Walking over to him, he sighed softly. "Sherlock, I've never seen you drink before. Even at the flat, you don't drink."

Stranger: Sherlock glared at him and put his current drink down, so far onto the edge that it almost fell to the floor. "Stop that," he told John and pointed at his face. "Stop judging. /You/ drink, so why can't I?"

You: He reached out and caught it before it fell. "I'm just concerned, Sherlock. People drink like this to forget things. I've never seen you want to forget anything."

Stranger: Sherlock swore quietly and stepped down from the stool, wobbling briefly before he caught his balance. "Some things, John, some things are best forgotten."

You: John caught Sherlock's arm to steady him, releasing the glass. "Okay. Okay, you want to forget. That's fine, I can respect that. Let's just get you home then."

Stranger: Sherlock pulled his arm out of John's grip, a little more harshly than he had intended. "Why can't you just drink with me instead of trying to deduce me?" he accused, reaching blindly for his drink again.

You: John looked at him in concern, but decided it might be best to play along. "If you promise to drink water, I'll drink with you."

Stranger: "Why would I want to drink water?" Sherlock asked, frowning. "I'm trying to get drunk, what will water do?"

You: "Keep you sober. Sherlock, you're already drunk. Any more and you risk damage."

Stranger: Sherlock frowned, he didn't think he was /that/ drunk. Sure, it was a little blurry and John was looking at him strangely, but he didn't feel all that different. "Be that as it may," he sat, sitting back down. "Not drunk enough."

You: John say beside him, putting a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "Please, Sherlock. Stop. Please."

Stranger: Sherlock looked at the hand on his shoulder, his frown deepening. "Why does it matter? Everyone drinks, it's fine."

You: sat*

Stranger: ((I think we're all drunk))

You: "Yes, but they don't binge, and it looks to me like you're bingeing. I'm concerned, Sherlock."

You: ((Apparently! LOL))

Stranger: "I'm not binging," Sherlock said and shrugged the hand off. Maybe he was though, he wasn't quite sure anymore.

You: John gulped softly, looking at what Sherlock had ordered. Motioning to the bartender, he spoke clearly so Sherlock would hear him. "What has he drunk so far?"

Stranger: The bartender chuckled and held up a nearly empty bottle of vodka. "He started with beer," he said. "But then he wanted something stronger. Don't worry, I started to water it down under the table after a few glasses, don't think he noticed."

You: John gave the man a grateful smile. "Good. Give me what he had, then." John was going to regret this in the morning, but Sherlock wanted him to drink, so drink he would. He'd show Sherlock exactly what alcohol did to a man. He always had been better at observing others than in observing himself. He should also remember that while John Watson drank on occasion, he never drank heavily. Tonight, he'd be fighting his worst fear just to prove a point.

Stranger: The bartender looked at them both in turn with a raised eyebrow, but then filled up a new glass and slid it over to John. Next to him, Sherlock grinned. "Good," he said approvingly and shot down the rest of what was in his glass. Once he had swallowed he looked John over, doing what he thought was deduction. "Did you ride a horse on the way here?"

You: John ignored him for a moment, looking down at the glass with something akin to dread. God, this shit had ruined his childhood, and it ruined Harry. What was he thinking? Drawing in a breath, he reached out for the drink and drank it in one shot, setting it down and motioning for another. "Just line them up. Whatever he had. I'll save the beer for last." He looked over at Sherlock, shaking his head. "No, Sherlock, I didn't."

Stranger: Sherlock hummed and narrowed his eyes, convinced that John was lying. "You look scared," he observed as he reached for another shot. "Are you scared of horses? And why the hell are you laughing?" he barked at the bartender, who quickly held his hands up and backed away, still chuckling.

You: "I took a cab, Sherlock. I don't even know how to bloody ride a horse." Reaching out for the next drink, John took the shot in one take as well. Immediately he smacked Sherlock's hand away from the shot. "Mine. You order your own."

Stranger: So that's why he was scared of horses, he didn't know how to ride one and must have fallen off. Satisfied with his conclusion, Sherlock grinned at John. "We get them for free, John," he reminded him and reached for the shot anyway and quickly downed it and oh god, that made him dizzy and he blinked hard, trying to remove the blur.

You: There were four left, and John knew that if he didn't get rid of them quick, Sherlock would just keep drinking. Bloody hell. Reaching out for one, John downed it, then moved on to the next one.

Stranger: Sherlock grinned and slapped John on the back. "Good," he slurred. "Good, John. Isn't it good?"

You: No, no it wasn't. Hating himself for it, he reached out for the third one and brought it to his lips, trying to stop the tremble in his hand before shutting his eyes and downing it.

Stranger: Sherlock shuffled his stool closer to John. "Why are you drinking if you don't want to?" he breathed, too close to John's face but he was too far gone to tell. He could tell though that John wasn't enjoying this. "Just to please me?"

You: John nodded, not trusting his voice just then. Releasing the empty shot glass, he reached out and took the last one in his hand, curling his fingers around it tightly. One more. Just one more.

Stranger: Sherlock reached out and wrapped his hand around John's, clumsily taking the glass from him, the effort making a little spill over the rim and onto the floor. "Don't," he said. "Let's... not drink anymore," he continued, his words slurring together.

You: John's eyes narrowed, and he pointedly grabbed the glass again and downed it. "I'm still short three shots and a beer," John informed him. Sherlock had drank one after he'd placed his order, than taken one of John's. They weren't even by a long shot.

Stranger: Sherlock wasn't in a state to argue so he just shrugged and leaned against the bar. "Do you... do you know what..." He was interrupted by the bartender who had overheard their conversation and put down more shots in front of John, plus a bottle of beer. "Good luck," he said with a small chuckle, going back to cleaning glasses or whatever he had been doing. Sherlock was sure he owned a pet llama and perhaps an elephant.

You: ((lmfao))

Stranger: ((I have no idea LOL))

You: Bloody hell. Bloody, bloody hell. John covered the lower part of his mouth, his fingertips trembling faintly. He could hold his liquor as well as the next guy, but it was a wonder Sherlock was even upright. He was already starting to get fuzzy, that happy feeling that seemed to take the edge off of everything, even his fear of alcoholism. It was scary, just how easy he could fall into this. He reached out for another shot.

Stranger: Sherlock watched with something akin to worry as John shot down another drink but his mind was too clouded to process anything. The bartender tapped him on the shoulder and told him he had called them a cab that would be here within the half hour. "Thank you," Sherlock slurred and tried to sneakily reach for just one more drink.

You: John shoved at his hand angrily, snapping up the drink and taking it down. He wouldn't let Sherlock drink anymore, if only to save himself from having to do it.

Stranger: Sherlock scowled but he didn't say anything. He knew he was drunk now, he knew that he he tried to stand up his knees would give up under him. "Taxi's coming."

You: "Good." Reaching for the last shot (thank God), John downed it, hating himself as he did so. What was that, eight shots in a little under an hour? He was going to be dead, is what he was. Slamming the glass down, he looked at the bottle of beer like it was a death sentence.

Stranger: Sherlock pretended to yawn, flapped his arm out and shoved the bottle of beer to the floor on the other side of the counter, the bottle smashing to pieces. "Whoops," he said and didn't have to fake a giggle. "Sorry, Roger, I will... pay for that. T'morrow."

You: John's head dropped onto the bartop in utter relief, half convinced that Sherlock had done it on purpose. The point was made, John hoped, if Sherlock had gotten to the point twice now of trying to get him to stop drinking.

Stranger: "Taxi's here," the bartender said and clapped both Sherlock and John on the shoulder, looking amused. "Better get moving, lads. Nice seeing you, Sherlock."  Sherlock grunted as a reply and slowly slid from the stool and immediately his world started spinning and he reached out, grasping John's arm. "Oh, shit," he breathed, blinking hard several times. Since when did floors move? That wasn't possible. He would have to check that out tomorrow.

You: Bracing himself against the bartop, John slid off the chair carefully, letting himself stay steady on his feet before moving towards the door. When Sherlock gripped him, John nearly stumbled, not having accounted for the extra weight. "Sherlock, careful."

Stranger: Sherlock was too busy staring at the floor to reply and gripped John's arm harder, leaning almost his entire weight onto him as he tried to get his legs to work and not stumble.

You: Bloody hell. John knew it had been a bad idea to drink. Drawing in a deep breath and soldiering on, the two of them managed to make it out of the bar and into the cab. "221B Baker Street," John informed the cabbie.

Stranger: Sherlock groaned and leaned his head against the window, shutting his eyes as the car started to drive. "Why is everything moving?" he asked John and reached out to grab his arm again. "Are we on the other side of the earth? Are we upside down?"

You: "Welcome to what's known as a hangover. I'll be joining you shortly, I'm sure," John muttered, resting the back of his head against the seat.

Stranger: "No," Sherlock said and opened his eyes. "Not hungover yet, I don't get hangovers." Not that he had ever been this drunk, but he had been high more times than he could count. "Still drunk." He looked at John and nodded. "Definitely still drunk."

You: John let out a slight scoffing sound. "I stand corrected. Still haven't told me why you were drunk, either."

Stranger: Sherlock rested his head back against the seat but he was still looking at John. "Because," he started, "because I'm so... so..." He waved a hand around lazily as if that could explain it. "You know? It's just... It's so..."

You: "No, I don't know. It's so... what?" John prompted, turning his head to look at him.

Stranger: "Unbearable," Sherlock finished, his words feeling strangely thick in his own mouth. "These emotions, these feelings. What do you /do/ with them, where do you store it all?" He looked at John closely, as if trying to look for a secret drawer inside his head where he put these things.

You: John scoffed slightly. "Wherever they fit. I don't store things, Sherlock, not like you do. We just... deal with it."

Stranger: "But John," Sherlock almost whined, though Sherlock never whined. He didn't. "But John, this is... it's... What if I can't deal with it?"

You: "Then you talk to someone about it. Maybe they can help you deal with it," John replied evenly, even as it seemed the world was starting to swim around him.

Stranger: "Hmm, no, not going to happen," Sherlock said, never once taking his eyes off John.

You: "Why not? I can help, Sherlock, if you want to talk to someone," John assured him, reaching out to grab Sherlock's hand, instead finding it landing on his thigh.

Stranger: Sherlock's eyes snapped down to the hand. "That's strange," he observed. "Your hand is so hot, is it burning?" Because now his thigh was burning and his chest was burning, everything was on fire.

You: John gulped, shaking his head very carefully and withdrawing his hand. "Alcohol. Makes you warm."

Stranger: "No," Sherlock said and grasped John's wrist, placing his hand back on his leg. "You make me warm."

You: Bloody hell, that felt nice. Both the words and the fact that Sherlock wanted him to touch him. "I'm drunk, too, Sherlock. 'M warm, too."

Stranger: "But you make me warm /everywhere/," Sherlock continued, his voice growing a tad bit more frustrated, frustrated that John didn't /get it/. "Always. Not just... not just now. You know? It's... it's warm and good but awful."

You: John frowned at him in confusion. "How is it good and awful?" And how could John make Sherlock feel warm all the time?

Stranger: "Good because sometimes it feels good, when you touch me or... or smile at me or... But then it feels awful because it's you and it's me and I'm not supposed to /feel/ these things, John!"

You: Dear God. From anyone else, this would sound like a confession of having an interest in him. "Why is it bad that it's you and me, Sherlock?" He asked softly, shifting his eyes to meet Sherlock's gaze.

Stranger: Christ, he was dizzy. Sherlock closed his eyes for a few seconds and when he reopened them he was staring right into John's eyes. "God, you are such an idiot," he hissed but it didn't come out as harsh as it usually did. "/Because/ I don't /do/ these things and you, John, are as straight as a... as a... something that's very very straight."

You: Did the man have any idea how absolutely stunning his eyes were? "'M not the only idiot. 'M not as straight as you make me out t' be," John informed him, finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the man.

Stranger: Was he having a heart attack? Could be, his heart was pounding like he was on the most interesting case. "And I'm not as cold as people make /me/ out to be."

You: "Good... 'Cause you make me warm, too." John reached over to whisper something into Sherlock's ear, and instead tipped forward to land his forehead on Sherlock's lap, unconscious.

Stranger: The cabbie coughed loudly, looking at them through the mirror. "Keep it PG back there," he said, though there was slight laughter in his tone.  Sherlock paid him no mind, he was too busy focusing on John's head in his lap. A different kind of warmth flooded through him, centering around his middle. "John..."

You: John was out like a light, the eight shots he took consecutively finally catching up to him.

Stranger: Sherlock looked down at John, who seemed to be fast asleep, and rested his forehead against the window. Five minutes later they parked outside the flat and Sherlock shoved John in the shoulder. "John," he hissed. "John, you have to pay him, I don't have any money with me. John!"

You: Sherlock's only response was a grunt at the shove, but otherwise John gave him no response.

Stranger: "John!" Sherlock called louder and shook John hard and then slapped him across the face. "You can sleep later, wake /up/ and pay the man so we can go inside."

You: John jerked awake at the slap, his eyes clearly unfocused. It was also clear that he was growing green around the edges. Reaching for the door, John stumbled out of the cab and towards the iron fence next to the entrance to 221, proving to the world that he wasn't an 8-shots-in-one-hour kinda guy.

Stranger: Sherlock groaned, stumbled out of the cab and took the liberty of reaching down into John's pocket and fishing out his wallet. He threw the cabbie a few notes and he seemed happy with that because he drove off with a huge grin. Sherlock didn't pay him any mind, instead turning back to John. "Are you okay?"

You: It was painfully obvious that he wasn't. His body was starting to tremble slightly, and he looked at Sherlock miserably, still feeling ill. "N-no," he got out.

Stranger: Sherlock sighed and started dragging him up the steps. "Useless," he groaned. Here Sherlock was, so drunk that he could hardly work, but still John was the one who had to be sick and he hadn't drunk nearly as much. "Who is the lightweight now?"

You: John slung his arm around Sherlock, holding himself tightly to his side. "Shaddup," John groaned, burying his face against Sherlock's side. So warm. So very warm.

Stranger: A sharp pang rushed through Sherlock and he wrapped an arm around John's middle, slowly trying to walk both of them up the stairs without falling and breaking their necks. After what seemed like an eternity they finally reached the landing and Sherlock managed to get the door unlocked after four tries where he completely missed the key hole. "There," he said, exhausted. "Home."

You: "Mmm, good." John released Sherlock and using the wall for balance, made his way to the bathroom. It was a few minutes before he exited, his breath minty fresh simply because he forced himself to brush his teeth. Stumbling into the kitchen, he got some bread and took out a few slices to eat, hoping it would settle his stomach.

Stranger: Sherlock had flung himself down onto the sofa when John had went into the bathroom and he followed John with his eyes as he came back out again. Something felt strange, had he said something wrong? He couldn't tell, but he had a feeling he had done something not good.

You: Slice of bread in hand, and a glass of water in the other, John stumbled toward Sherlock and handed him both. "Water. It'll help." With that declaration, he plopped himself down on the couch beside him.

You: ((brb. btw, my tumblr is coatandscarf, if you have one. Just in case we DC down the road. This IS omegle lol))

Stranger: ((Alright! My tumblr is yeahbrokenmirror :D))

Stranger: Sherlock made a face but accepted the water anyway and downed half of it in one go, his mouth felt dry like sandpaper. "John, I... Are you mad at me? I told you things and then you passed out..."

You: John shook his head very carefully, reaching out to squeeze Sherlock's knee gently. "Not mad. Sorry 'bout that. Too much t' drink, too little time," John informed him, giving him a half smile of reassurance.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled back, a little apprehensively. "Okay," he said. "Alright. I'm sorry too, for making you drink. I didn't mean to."

You: "Better be sorry. Hate drinking." John curled up alongside Sherlock unabashedly, finding the man incredibly warm just then. "Violence runs in the Watson family when we're drunk," he admitted after a beat, his face largely buried against Sherlock's chest.

Stranger: Sherlock sighed shakily and put a hand tentatively on John's back. "You don't seem any violent to me," he whispered.

You: "'Cause I'd never want to hurt you," John remarked softly, not able to look Sherlock in the eye as he spoke.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled and pressed a kiss to the crown of John's head, though he wasn't quite sure why he had done that. "I know you wouldn't," he said. "I've never worried about that, ever."

Stranger: ((brb!))

You: John sighed contently against Sherlock as he placed a kiss on John's head, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's stomach and hugging him close. "Good." John let out a massive yawn and curled up onto the couch, practically snuggled against Sherlock's side. "Love you, Sherlock," he informed the man, his tone clearly sleepy.

Stranger: Sherlock's mind screeched to a staggering halt. Love? He desperately tried to analyse that, to think about it and try to understand it, but he couldn't for the life of him wrap his drunken mind around it. "I..." Dizzy. Sleepy. Happy. "I love you, too..."

You: John smiled and as he eased back on the couch, encouraged Sherlock to ease back with him, ducking one arm under Sherlock's head and the other around the man's waist.

Stranger: Sherlock lazily kicked off his shoes and settled back on the sofa, comfortably intertwined with John. His eyes were open and he studied John's face with something akin to fascination.

You: "Good?" John asked him softly, more content at that moment despite the uneasy feeling in his gut than he had been in months.

Stranger: "Very," Sherlock breathed and rested his forehead against John's. He paused before he added, "I can't imagine you being violent."

You: John shrugged slightly, absently stroking Sherlock's back. "Don't want to tempt fate, so I don't drink. I was smacking your hand away earlier though," he reminded him softly, speaking of the couple of instances where Sherlock started to encroach on his drinks.

Stranger: Sherlock chuckled at that and leaned back into John's touch. "I was stealing your drinks, everyone would have done that, you know I would have. You're being too hard on yourself. You're not your family."

You: He sighed softly. "Doesn't mean I'm not worried I'll end up like them."

Stranger: "Do you worry about hurting me?," Sherlock asked, just as softly. "Or just people in general?"

You: "You, mostly. I don't deal with many other people on a daily basis."

Stranger: Sherlock frowned and wrapped a hand loosely around John's neck, stroking his skin lightly with his thumb. "If you did, don't you think I could have fought back? Stopped you? Like I said, I have never worried about that. You don't have to either."

You: John immediately relaxed under Sherlock's touch, sighing once more. "I know. I know. You're not a kid, you can defend yourself. Doesn't mean I still don't worry about it."

You: ((I must get going, sadly. :( Gotta get dinner started.))

Stranger: ((Awww, alright D: This was really great though <3))

You: ((Yes it was! You have a good night, and thanks for a lovely RP!))

Stranger: ((Good night and thanks yourself! :D))

You have disconnected.

[uozlulu]

Yeah, well, faster to me equals as easier XD I have really rubbish patience so most of the things I start on remain unfinished forever. And it will be easier to control with something that's more like a pen than a mouse pad.

Yeah, control is really the benefit from the pen. Another thing to keep in mind, even if you use the fancy settings on the tablet is that you have an eraser tool and that can really get you some good lines. I use a combination of the brush and eraser tool when I do hair.

[uozlulu]

It's easier to send an ask as a reply rather than reblogging that whole thing again xD Yes, I know that you /can/ blend without a tablet, but it will be easier with one, plus you get all those extra fancy-schmancy features along with it. I also hate doing lineart with a mouse pad, it gets all shaky and I don't have enough patience to go slow xD Thank you though :D

It's not easier, it just goes faster. It's really just as hard with the tablet or without it.

[fuckyeahnorwegian]

Submission by yeahbrokenmirror

[combeferret]

yeahbrokenmirror a répondu à votre question : I have a horrible SPN confession to make

I’ve always watched SPN when it’s aired, and I hated Cas’ guts when he first came xD Mostly because he was ~intruding~, heh.

Well since by that point all the fandom were in love with him, I pretty much assumed that this random new dude would be fun to have around. BOY WAS I WRONG BUT BOY DO I NOT REGRET A MINUTE.

inspector-lestrudel a réagi à votre billet : I have a horrible SPN confession to make

I didn’t think he was anything special when I first saw him. I was like, “oh, so that’s Castiel/Misha? Hmm. We’ll see, I guess.” That’s the problem with build-up. And then my life was steadily ruined by him. It’s a great story.

Yup. Exactly the way it happened with me. It took me (just) an episode or two to "get it" but when I did? Yeah. Fangasming everywhere.

[ohsosystematic-blog]

HEY HO

Opening Credits: mcr - bulletproof heart

Waking Up: shinee - ready or not

First Day At School: th - don't jump

Falling In Love: th - zoom into me

Fight Song: electric chapel - gaga

Breaking Up: reden - th

Life’s OK: attention - th

Getting Back Together: forgotten children - th

Wedding:  avril lavigne - keep holding on

Birth of Child: lose my breath - destiny's child

Final Battle: swagger jagger -cherly lloyd

Death Scene: mcr- black parade

Funeral Song: 

End Credits:

[ohsosystematic-blog]

Oh, and thanks for following btw! *ditz*

your blog is perfect no need to thank me :3

[marsinvestigaytions]

Santana/Sawyer... phew, that is STEAMY. Um, Pretty Little Liars and Harry Potter.

UGH I KNOW RIGHT. I would pay money to see Santana/Sawyer happen. Haha.

Spencer/Ron

Hermione/Ezra

Neville/Hanna 

Draco/Aria

And none for Harry, bye.

Mostly I just can't see Harry with any of them.