bakerstreet | → morning after

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[warning] sex

→ morning after

the morning after

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→ COMMENT WITH YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME, FANDOM, AND PREFERENCE.
→ PICK A CHARACTER YOU WANT TO TAG AND HIT UP RNG (01-10), OR CHOOSE A SCENE OF YOUR OWN.
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┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ the scenarios

① BREAKFAST IN BED: YOUR PARTNER'S UP AND ABOUT -- MAYBE DRESSED, MAYBE NOT -- AND IN THE KITCHEN. WHAT ARE THEY MAKING YOU? COULD IT BE... GRILLED CHEESE?
② HIT ME BABY: THEY'RE SUCH A PEACEFUL SLEEPER. A PEACEFUL, SEXY SLEEPER. ACTUALLY THERE'S TOO MUCH OF THAT SLEEPING HAPPENING. WHY DON'T YOU WAKE THEM UP, WORLD'S KINDEST ALARM?
③ ESCAPE FROM AZKABED: YOU WAKE UP TO FIND THEY'RE RUMMAGING ABOUT FOR THEIR CLOTHES, ABOUT TO LEAVE. WHY THE RUSH, AND CAN YOU CONVINCE THEM TO STAY?
④ THE AFTERNOON AFTER: AND THE EVENING, MAYBE EVEN THE MORNING AFTER AFTER... HOURS HAVE PASSED BUT YOU JUST CAN'T LEAVE EACH OTHER! OR MAYBE ONE OF YOU JUST WON'T...
⑤ HANGOVER FROM HELL: THERE'S A TIGER IN THE CLOSET, A BABY IN THE BATHROOM, AND A TOTAL STRANGER CURLED UP BESIDE YOU. WHO IS THIS PERSON BESIDE YOU SMELLING OF TEQUILA AND REGRET? DO THEY KNOW ANY MORE ABOUT WHAT, OR WHO, WENT DOWN THAN YOU DO?
⑥ WET AND WILD: DON'T FEEL TOO LONELY WAKING UP BY YOURSELF -- THE SHOWER'S ON AND THE SOUND OF WATER FALLING IS MIGHTY INVITING. WHY DON'T YOU GET CLEANED UP -- OR DOWN AND DIRTY ALL OVER AGAIN?
⑦ I'LL SLEEP WHEN I DIE: SLEEP? WHAT IS THIS SLEEP THING YOU SPEAK OF? DAWN'S BREAKING AND NEITHER OF YOU HAVE GOTTEN A WINK, OR WANT ONE. WHO'S READY FOR ROUND asjldkjl?
⑧ A BITTER PILL: TURNS OUT THE REASON YOU SCORED WASN'T YOUR SPARKLING WIT AND MAGNETIC CONFIDENCE. YOUR PARTNER HAD AN ULTERIOR MOTIVE -- THEY ALREADY KNEW IT, AND YOU'RE ABOUT TO. RECON? REVENGE? REBOUND? TAG AND FIND OUT, IF YOU CAN HANDLE THE TRUTH!
⑨ THIS ISN'T MINE: THAT SLEEPY PERSON IN YOUR LIVING ROOM HAD A GREAT NIGHT -- WITH YOUR ROOMMATE. WELL, MIGHT AS WELL GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER WHILE YOU'RE BOTH THERE, RIGHT? ... RIGHT?
⑩ WILD CARD: ROLL MORE THAN ONCE AND COMBINE SCENARIOS, CHOOSE YOUR FAVOURITE, OR MAKE UP YOUR OWN!

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[David was sound asleep, having that dream where he's trying to eat ice cream but managing to get it anywhere but his mouth, covered in sticky white cream and becoming more than a little bit frustrated. It's disrupted by that obnoxious mariachi cell phone ringtone. The one he's still questioning why it's even programmed into his phone, but is just too damn lazy to change.

Groaning, he lifts his head, hand slamming down on the phone to silence it. No one should be allowed to call him before noon. No one. His head is killing him and the details of the previous night are still very fuzzy. One thing he knows immediately was he got very sweaty and gassy at some point, and don't ask why... he has no idea.]

Five more minutes...

[ Admittedly it's quite a common occurrence for Vod to wake up somewhere with no idea where the hell she is. Or to end up in bed with someone she hardly knows. Hell sometimes that happens multiple times in one night. So when she first wakes up, her more pressing concern is that obnoxious ringtone noise and a head sensation that feels akin to a gnome doing some pneumatic drilling inside her skull. ]

Fuck.

[ That's when she chooses to roll over, open her eyes a fraction and get a look at the total hottie she must have bagged last night...

And there's Dave.

That's about when she starts making slightly strangled sounding noises of shock and gaping like a startled and most likely disgusted fish. ]

Edited 2013-04-27 10:28 (UTC)

[It goes to show you how well Dave pays attention when he doesn't even notice the person beside him until they move. He's too asleep to jump, which is probably what he would normally do, so instead he too rolls his SMOKIN' HOT BODY over to look at who's beside him.

Oh. It's just Vod. Nothing to see here.

He squints, hand coming up to rub at his eyes before he notices that fucking sound she's making.]

...Are you dying, or?

[ Urgh no Dave, don't roll over... Too late. Now it's so much harder to imagine she has just woken up somewhere else entirely. Especially with that meat-breath smell hot in her nostrils. ]

I fucking well hope so.

[ Seriously, someone kill her now.

She flops onto her back, lifting one arm to cover her eyes with it because dear god does the slightest bit of light hurt right now. ]

Please tell me you've got some fucking pants on.

[The pants thing didn't cross his mind, but now that she mentions it, yeah, he's not wearing any.

Trust me when I say that did it not feel like his 350 pound neighbor named Larry who waters his lawn shirtless in the middle of the night was standing on top of his head, he wouldn't be acting so casual about this. But the lethargic, sloppy movements and monotone, deadpan voice is there for a reason.]

What do you think?

[ Vod just continues to lie there, very, very still, arm still covering her eyes, as she contemplates the very close proximity of uncovered Dave penis...

She groans. And not in a good way. ]

...I think I'm gonna be sick.

[ Well that sounds familiar. Something from last night is definitely coming back to her now. ]

Again.

[Dave would be more offended, but he feels pretty damn sick himself. So he's not sure what she's referring to, alcohol-sickness or Dave's Penis-sickness. Regardless.

Speaking of Dave's penis, let us take a moment to discuss it. Dave's penis is like a small child. Not due to it's size, it's perfectly average in size, thank you, but rather that it spends an awful lot of time in the back seat of the car saying "Are we there yet?" You see, it doesn't get a whole lot of action. It gets antsy, and when it finally does it becomes so overwhelmed that it doesn't know what to do with itself.

Now that we're on the same page...]

Bathroom's right down the hall... on the left.

Right. Cheers.

[ Running to the bathroom and maybe not emerging for quite a long while is a tempting thought, very tempting. In fact, just leaving altogether is very tempting.

But really, she needs to say something... Well, that and she can't seem to locate her jeans right now to do any of said running. She runs a hand through her hair, which at the moment probably makes her look like she's been dragged through a hedge backwards. ]

Listen, d'you remember anythin'? Like, oh I dunno, your dong poking around inside my vag for a bit? [ Looking like she's about to puke again. ]

Or was I just on the tequila for too long and randomly took all my clothes off after I was done smashing shit? [ If only. ]

Uhhhhh... [It's long, dragged out, and not at all annoying. He's thinking about it. Give him a moment. Let's see. Let's see...what happened last night. Okay tequila, tequila was definitely involved. Dave remembers specifically refusing to eat the worm at the bottom and then somehow being talked into it. Maybe it was a deal of some kind? Okay, wait, how did they get naked...]

I thiiink...

[Okay, he's hoping he's dreaming the part about him turning on Wu Tang Clan and sloppily rapping along with it. That and the flash-memory he has of himself stark naked on the lawn, lighting his pants on fire to pay tribute to some kind of made-up god.]

Maybe...

[Police sirens. He remembers police sirens. And hiding in a bush until they disappeared, then going back inside and making himself a sandwich comprised of peanut butter and ham. He thinks the remains of that sandwich are laying in a trash can somewhere, half-digested.]

What do you remember last?

I asked you first, you lob on. [ Way to give a straight answer, Dave. Although she can't blame him entirely, trying to think is painful right now. Clearly the solution to this is to locate her leather jacket and rummage around in the contents of her pocket, until she thankfully finds what she's looking for in them and promptly starts rolling herself a cigarette. ]

Not a lot. A mixed bag of confusion, disgust and regret before I passed out maybe.

[ Pause. ]

Did I puke on you? [ No trace of shame at this question. ]

Uh, I don't know... [He attempts to sit up, himself, hoping that it will ease the whole nauseous feeling in his gut... but thankfully makes sure to tug the bedsheet up with him. He doesn't want to trigger any kind of ptsd by letting her see his junk.]

You might have... Do you remember trying to order a stripper or did I dream that?

[He winces, bringing a hand up to rub at his head again... and then for some reason on it's way back down he pauses to sniff at it. Let's just say he's no longer squinting when he reaches over to Vod.]

Oh my God... smell my fingers...

[ Yes, good. Must never ever again witness the Dave penis. Vod shrugs. ] Might have. Nothin' quite like troubling visuals of a skaghead thrusting her cooch in your face for money.

[ And then he has his fingers worryingly close to her face and she's hastily scooting a little further away to the other far side of the bed, making sure her tits are quite firmly covered in the process. ]

No thanks, I'm okay for finger sniffing, cheers... What is it? Dare I fucking ask.

Don't know what I'd do with a stripped once she got here. My friend John once ordered a stripper and when she got there he made her play video games with him.

[He brings his hand back over to himself as he speaks, taking another whiff curiously. His face looks even more disgusted.]

Don't know, how's your ass feel?

[ She rolls her eyes a bit. ] Bet that was your wet dream come true.

[ Watching him sniff his fingers with almost as much disgust as he has reacting to whatever the smell on them is.

Also why... ]

It's...Fine... Why? How's yours? Did I ram it too hard with my big, hairy strap-on?

He called me over to fix his computer and she was already there. But sure.

[He shifts slightly at her last question. Unsure of an answer. When he was honest with himself, everything hurt, which meant his asshole was not excluded.]

You might have. If I have trouble walking later, I'll let you know.

[He turns his head to face her, expression and voice completely deadpan.]

You know, I've never felt closer to you.

[ The same could probably be said for her in all honesty. ]

Right, cool.

[ Cigarette rolled and she's moving to lie on her front instead, as she lights the thing and returns Dave's deadpan look with a raised eyebrow. ]

Yeah. Nothing says fucking romance like a hangover and a sore arse hole.

[He scoffs at that, head falling back against the headboard. Ow.]

What did you expect, flowers are overrated. They just die, anyway.

[He'd be laughing at what he just said if he didn't feel dead inside at the current moment. He slumps back down so that his head is resting on the pillows again, contemplating rolling over and smothering himself on them.]

Now you have a story to tell the grandkids.

[ Smooth, Dave, smooth. Of course she barely reacts because it's him and this kind of thing is to be expected. She shrugs. ]

Never had flowers. A bloke in Dagenham that I was shagging gave me a push dagger once. I quite liked that.

[ She snorts, pausing to tap her cigarette ash into an empty glass by the bed. ]

Haha, yeah. Me and my own brood of teeny tiny smack heads. Don't think so, mate.

[Dave goes with the whole flopping over and smothering himself thing. He speaks into the pillow, his voice muffled.]

I have a whole shed of weird weapons... you're welcome to peruse them if that's what you're into. You just can't have the weird possessed ones.

[He groans only for a moment before lifting his head up for air. So much for that. Pussy.]

Probably for the best.

[ Another snort at that. ]

Oh you do fucking spoil me. I'll check it out later maybe, when my head doesn't feel like a fucking coconut being split in half.

[ A pause, while she eyes his half-arsed attempt at smothering himself with his pillow. ]

...No need to look quite so like you're about to top yourself any minute now y'know.

[ Offers him the cigarette, because obviously that will help. ]

[Spoil her? Yeah right, the thing's just getting too cluttered. John brings home every rusted machete he finds on the side of the road. He thinks there's some C4 in there that was stolen out of a military transport vehicle, too.]

Really? Because passing out and dreaming I'm floating away into black nothingness seems a lot better than dealing with a hangover right now.

[He turns, accepting the cigarette graciously and taking a long drag.]

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