bakerstreet | Jingle bells, Batman smells--!

Jingle bells, Batman smells--!

Happy Holidays Meme

It's the most wonderful time of the year! Wherever your character is, whatever their feelings on the plethora of holidays found in December, they're bound to be caught up in the festivities. It's up to you what kind of holiday they'll experience! (Feel free to exchange Christmas for whatever holiday your character celebrates.)

Directions
1. Comment with your character, series, preferences, etc.
2. Roll a number between 1-16 (gen) or 1-5 (smut) for a prompt.
3. Reply to others and play out the scenario!

Gen Prompts
1. Tree Shopping - There's nothing like a freshly cut tree at Christmas. Do you go out into the woods to find one yourself, or do you stroll through a lot while it's snowing, looking for the perfect tree?

2. Ice Skating - Do you skate at rink or out on a frozen pond? Have you ever skated before? ~~How many times do you fall?~~

3. Pinterest Fails - You're set on making your own gifts this year, so you try out some adorable Pinterest ideas... And fail miserably. How do you salvage Christmas?

4. Secret Santa - The names have been drawn and now you're tasked with finding the right gift for someone who you may hardly know. Is it easy, or do you have to do some reconnaissance before making your decision?

5. Christmas Market - There are stalls of handcrafts and delicious goodies lining the streets, with crowds of people out walking in the snow and drinking mulled wine.

6. Decorating the Tree - How will the two of you decorate the tree? Do you spend a half hour untangling the twinkle lights, make popcorn strings while listening to carols, argue over who gets to put the star on top?

7. Road Trip – The snacks are packed and you’re ready to go to grandma’s house. But what happens when you lose GPS signal and get lost in the middle of nowhere or the car breaks down?

8. Stuck in the Airport – You’re snowed in and the hotels are full of fellow delayed passengers. Why don’t they make these chairs more comfortable for sleeping in?

9. Avoiding the Family – You’re obligated to go home for the holiday, but there’s only so much you can take of your family. Go for a walk, stop by the bar, whatever it takes for a little peace and quiet - and meet someone along the way.

10. Christmas Party – Are you hosting the event, or just bringing an extra bottle of wine? Is it a work function? How many glasses of spiked eggnog have you had?

11. Baking Shenanigans - How long does it take for the two of you to destroy the kitchen, either with forgetting to put the lid on the blender or simply starting a food fight?

12. Burned the Turkey – Well, the main course is a little blackened. Time for Chinese food, or is it pizza this year?

13. Mistletoe - The little sprig of green strikes again! Are you the one stuck under it, or the lucky finder ready to claim your prize?

14. Last Minute Shopping - Are you out fighting the crowds for the best deals? Or are you behind one of the counters, stuck in the annual retail holiday hell?

16. Turbo Man - You have one last thing on your shopping list, but it's the hottest of the season and everywhere is sold out. There's only one left - but they've spotted it too! Who will walk away victorious?

17. Write-in Option – Is there something we missed? Is there another scenario you want to play out, or would you like to roll the dice again? Go for it!

Smut Prompts
1. Sitting on Santa's Lap – What will you ask for this Christmas?

2. Present Under the Tree - You've wrapped yourself up and are waiting for that special someone.

3. Sneaking Away at a Party - No, you can't wait until you get home or the guests leave, you need them now.

4. Keeping Warm During a Snowstorm - The power's gone out and you have to stay warm somehow...

5. Baking Surprise - How on earth did you get chocolate there? Oh well, can't let it go to waste!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(( a modern au where nearly everything's the same, except everyone lives?? idk. i can edit if necessary! ))

[ Once upon a time, there was a small town that happened to be in the wrong place. Some asshole took it upon himself to correct this issue, hoping to run the poor folks out of their homes; he never expected them to retaliate.

But retaliate they did, and how.

It's how the seven mismatched men met, found a strange sort of comradery with one another. If it hadn't been for that common goal, Faraday highly doubts any of them would've bothered giving one another the time of day. But as it stands now, they stay in touch. Once the injured men (Faraday among them) heal up enough, the seven of them find themselves working together occasionally on odd little jobs. (Faraday likens it a little to the Justice League or the A-Team, if its members were all rogues and misfits on varying sides of the law.

But helping people in need? Swooping in where law enforcement can't or won't? It's vigilantism, surely, but Faraday is surprised that doing good like this might actually suit him.)

And the reason for their reunion today: Rose Creek's Christmas party.

It was only natural, really, to invite the seven of them back, considering the town wouldn't be standing if it hadn't been for them. Faraday had planned on forgoing the whole shindig, but the promise of free food and alcohol proved too strong, in the end. (That, and one or two of the other seven practically twisted his arm to get him to attend.) As it turns out, the party isn't so terrible. It's something of a festival, sprawled out across the center of town, winding its way through the diner, the bar, and the community center. The town is decorated with modest ornaments, the trees adorned with garlands and lights. Rose Creek is a far sight cheerier than Faraday ever recalls seeing it. Even more surprising is how warmly they were welcomed; a few of the women hugged them so tightly Faraday thought his ribs might break, and some of the men clapped him so hard on the shoulder he thought he might bruise.

As the party goes on, most of the seven take up station in the bar, naturally, where the drinks flow freely and the laughs come easily. The bar is similarly decorated, with lights strung up high on the walls and a small plastic tree in the corner. Faraday doesn't even get a chance to sit down at the card table before he's summarily banned, and he argues half-heartedly for a chance to play. He's turned away all the same, and now he sulks, leaning against the frame of an entryway, nursing a glass of whiskey. A sprig of mistletoe dangles above him, though it goes largely unnoticed, considering he focuses all his efforts into moping. ]

[ Vasquez can't say the events were life changing. For all accounts and purposes, he's still wanted by a lot of people, and he still keeps doing things that put him on those wanted lists, but it had been a good time. And a person in his circumstances - in all their circumstances - never knew when they could use a friend or call in a favour.

Beyond a good memory and a good story to tell over drinks, he never paid much thought to the others. They flitted through sometimes, in a blink of nostalgia, here and then gone. When he'd gotten the invitation (how they'd found out how to get it to him, he still doesn't know), Vasquez had begun to think more about the other six of their motley crew. Especially that asshole, Faraday.

Though it seemed that of all the people at the bar, Vasquez barely sees Faraday, let alone talks to him, beyond the initial greeting. It's something he doesn't realize right away. Everyone gets lost in the food and the alcohol and the general festive mood. Time flies when you're not playing hide and seek with the law. He's on his way to get a new bottle of something to bring to the table when he passes the sulking figure, he steps to move on, and pauses.

Vasquez knows he has several options.

He can keep moving. He can stop and say hello, they can make small talk enough to catch up. He can point out Faraday's precarious placement. Or he can take the piss out of him and catch him off guard. Vasquez is just drunk enough to think the last option is the funniest, so he steps back in line with Faraday and moves in, the kiss hitting it's mark with a firm plant of lips-to-lips. Then he laughs. ]

Feliz Navidad!

[ Faraday is mostly concerned with casting the card table dark looks, trying to guilt its players into offering an invitation, that he hardly notices Vasquez's approach until the last second. When he does, though, Faraday actually perks up a little, roused from his glowering; it's been some time since the two of them had seen one another, and as frustrating as Vasquez could be, much of the time, Faraday found himself appreciating those brief moments where life and work happened to allow them to cross paths. He glances up, lips parting to offer a word of greeting, asking the man how life on the run is treating him, except—

His words are whisked away by the press of Vasquez's lips against his, and Faraday stands frozen to the spot, rigid with shock. It can't last more than a second or two, but he still stands in wide-eyed shock as Vasquez pulls away, laughing and grinning in that particularly infuriating way of his.

In fact, Faraday wastes another second to just stare at Vasquez, before he finally grimaces, spluttering and wiping at his mouth in outrage. ]

The fuck was that?

Tradition. If you don't want it, don't stand around asking for it.

[ Vasquez raises his eyebrows. He's still grinning as he nods up, then points to the delicate sprig hanging very obviously above the door. ]

If you wanted a kiss, you should've just asked. It's the holidays, I might have felt generous.

"Tradition"?

[ Echoed back in disbelief, flavored with the slightest hint of outrage. He nearly snaps something back before he follows Vasquez's gesture to the entryway's lintel, and— sure enough, there's that stupid mistletoe. ]

... Aw, hell.

[ He scrubs at his mouth again, more for show than actual distaste. ]

Who needs to ask? 'Parently you're just givin' 'em out for free.

Giving myself is the best gift I can give.

[ He moves, leaning against the door in a way that blocks Faraday from going anywhere but backwards into the other room. It's not done on purpose - mostly, it's necessity, because the drink and the revelry can make the room seem unstable. ]

I think you didn't dislike it.

[ If anyone else had moved into his space the way Vasquez does, Faraday would've assumed it was a threat, would've pursed his lips into a thin line as fire kicked up in his chest. With Vasquez, though, it just feels like a challenge, and Faraday narrows his eyes, holding his ground. Stubborn, maybe, and just a bit silly, but with whiskey already meandering through his veins, his priorities are a bit warped.

That same stubbornness makes his reply come out flatly, ]

You think wrong, then, amigo. [ That same, imprecise pronunciation whenever he borrows from Vasquez's first language. ] That was about the worst kiss I've had in my life. I'm embarrassed for the both of us, frankly.

[There's a brief moment where Vasquez purses his lips, and his weight shifts from one foot to another. It will never not be annoying when Faraday does that, and Vasquez knows the bastard is fully aware of it.]

No, see, I know you are lying. My kisses are legendary. You just can't bring yourself to admit it, and, because we are friends, I won't judge you too harshly on it. I know that, in your heart, you know it's true.

[ Faraday barks out an incredulous laugh – the loud, obnoxious kind that escapes him when he's had a little too much to drink. ]

Legendary? Bless your heart, Vas. Who the hell's been feeding you that bull?

Your jealousy is understandable. I'm sure you are a fine kisser, don't be too hard on yourself, mm?

[Vasquez reaches over, giving Faraday a consoling - and admittedly condescending - rough pat on the shoulder.]

We cannot all be so lucky as I am.

[ Faraday snorts derisively, batting away Vasquez’s hand – not nearly as fiercely as he might have done when they first met, though. It’s more a token gesture, like waving away a persistent gnat. ]

Who needs luck when you’ve got skill? Seems to me you’re forgettin’ you’re speakin’ to the world’s greatest lover.

[ He punctuates the boast by draining the last of his whiskey from his glass. ]

Hah!

[The laugh is explosive, more than Vasquez is usually willing to give of himself. No one in the bar really notices. The chatter is too loud, and they may as well be outside having a private conversation.]

My friend, I am from a nation of lovers. You are nothing.

[ Faraday's eyes narrow, though the curl of his mouth betrays that he takes it as a challenge, rather than an insult. He turns away long enough to deposit his glass on the nearest flat surface before leaning against the door's frame. ]

Dunno that I believe you, considerin' all you did was jam your face against mine, just then.

[Two can play at this game. Vasquez sets his own glass aside, since it clearly isn't going to be filled any time soon. He makes a show of readying himself, rolling up his sleeves, standing directly in front if Faraday. It's really a matter of pride now, and, well. There are worse fights to get into.]

Allow to me say in advance that you are welcome.

[His hands go to Faraday's face, moving to settle under the man's jaw while Vasquez's thumbs rest against Faraday's cheeks. It's the easiest way to draw him in and avoid escape, and the press of lips this time is still insistent, but moderately gentler than before.]

[ His smile turns crooked, amused, as Vasquez prepares himself. The other man looks for all the world like he's gearing up for a fight, and helped along by the haze of the alcohol, Faraday finds himself wildly entertained by the display. It sort of figures they'd come to blows over this, when even in the short time they'd known each other, they hadn't tried to punch out one another's teeth. Not for lack of wanting to, of course, with as often as they ribbed at each other, testing one another's limits, but because eventually they would come to the same conclusion: not worth the effort.

The words catch him off-guard, and his laugh turns incredulous, barked again, and Faraday rocks back on his heel, intent on arguing. Any reply he might've dredged up is interrupted when Vasquez's hands catch hold of him, palms rough and calloused, pulling him in.

Kissing him. Again.

All things considered, Faraday shouldn't be surprised by how their argument has developed, but he is, as evidenced by the small, startled noise he makes. Vasquez's hands on his neck keep him from pulling back too far, means the only way out is forward, and this is a goddamn challenge if there ever was one. Faraday's never backed down when a gauntlet is thrown. Why the hell would he start now?

So after a second of deliberation, he takes a half-step forward, one hand grabbing hold of Vasquez's shirt, the other similarly resting along the line of Vasquez's jaw. He returns the kiss – tentative and unsure, but only because this is Vasquez, of all people, and this is a strange line to cross. ]

[Is it crossing a line? Vasquez wouldn't say that. A challenge was set and he's defending his pride, and come morning, any fuzzy memory of it will be put down to the alcohol and boys being boys.

He huffs out an amused sort of sound. Faraday's uncertainty is clear, and that means Vasquez is winning, so he doesn't back down. One hand slips around to the back of Faraday's neck, trapping him in more.]

[ The little laugh kicks up Faraday's ire, and he answers the sound with a quiet noise of annoyance. Another step closer, with only of breath of space between them, and Faraday deepens the kiss, tongue flicking out to lick along Vasquez's lower lip.

Faraday is a competitive son of a bitch, and he's one hell of a sore loser. ]

[Huh. All right, then. For the first time since this started, Vasquez isn't sure what to do. Maybe this is where the line gets crossed, but it's happening, and he knows if he backs down then he'll never hear the end of it. Because Faraday will lord it over him until the end of days, and that is a fate worse than death.

So Vasquez moves, shifts enough that he's got the other man pressed into the doorframe. When his lips part, he thinks, hell, this isn't really so bad. Not that he'll admit it.]

[ His back hits the wooden frame of the door, and it comes as a slight surprise, judging by his quick little intake of breath. It's steadying, at least, considering the drink still in his system is doing its level best to unbalance him.

(To say nothing of the fact that the slow deepening of the kiss is starting to make him feel dizzy.

Not that he'll ever say as much aloud.)

Vasquez's palm is rough against Faraday's skin, and when his lips part, Faraday takes the invitation, licks hesitantly into the wet heat of Vasquez's mouth. Unconsciously, his hand twists into Vasquez's shirt, urges Vasquez closer with a quick tug. His other hand finds its way to the nape of Vasquez's neck, fingers trailing upwards into his hair. ]

[The rest of the party sort of melts away into the back of Vasquez's mind. All right, so Faraday is pretty good at this - and Vasquez honestly isn't that surprised, he has a feeling that Faraday gets a lot of practice. He's seen how people look at Faraday, and, yeah, he's a nice looking guy.

And here he is, pressed into a door with his fingers up in Vasquez's hair and Vasquez definitely can't think of anywhere else he'd momentarily like to be.

The thought seems to shock his brain into something (or maybe it's his lungs telling him that he didn't take in enough air before this started). Vasquez makes a vague sound in the back of his throat and backs off, hardly enough to make any difference.]

[ If he had mind enough to think it over, he'd admit that maybe Vasquez hadn't been so full of shit, after all. Maybe Vasquez's claim that his kisses were legendary could actually hold water. Maybe he'd be willing to say that Vasquez does seem to know what he's doing.

As it stands, though, he's far too focused on this to think too hard on the inevitable blow to his pride, admitting he might have actually been wrong. He's focused on the press of Vasquez' body against his, the warmth of his lips, the heat of his tongue. It's goddamn good, is all he has mind enough to think.

That small noise Vasquez makes puzzles him though, as does the shift of movement. Faraday takes it as a good sign that Vasquez doesn't immediately pull away, but it's still enough to kick some power back into his higher brain function, bringing back conscious thought.

So it's Faraday who pulls away first, though the space left between Vasquez at his front and the door frame at his back leaves little room to maneuver. He licks his lips, scrambling for words, before he forces a small smirk. ]

Too much for you, hombre?

[Well, shit, there it is. Classic Faraday. For a moment Vasquez thought they could maybe live in this sort of strange moment between them, but of course not. He snorts but doesn't move, because, hey - if they can go for a round two then he sure as hell isn't complaining.]

Didn't want to overwhelm you, compadre. [He mimics Faraday's own mocking pronunciation.] Too much of a good thing, you know?

[ He huffs out a laugh, his smile brightening a little – strange, hearing Vasquez butcher his own native tongue in an echo of Faraday's voice. ]

Bullshit, Vas.

[ He leans forward – just a hair, almost as though he hardly realizes he's doing it. ]

When have either of us given a shit about overindulging?

I don't want you thinking I'm going to spoil you or something. Some things should be earned.

[Vasquez pats Faraday on the hip, and gives it a slight squeeze. They are pretty indulgent people, aren't they?]

But I suppose if you asked nice I could make an exception.

[ He makes a dismissive noise, tipping his head back to arch an eyebrow at him. ]

What, you expectin' me to say please?

[ He asks it in a sort of incredulous way, as if Vasquez were asking him to pull down the moon. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jingle bells, Batman smells--!

10/13, if this is okay!

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