ColdWave Week

Title: Blame it on the Mistletoe Fandom: DC TV Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 2355 In Responds to: ColdWave Week 2016: Mistletoe Hung Where You Can See Characters: Mick, Len, season 1 Legends Summary: The mistletoe is especially potent this year. The crew collectively decided- minus Rip who gave in when he realized he was horribly outnumbered -that since their latest jaunt dropped them off in some out of the way, snow-filled mountain in Chile, they may as well have a Christmas party. Or just a holiday party given two members of the crew were Jewish and Rip was non-denominational. Sure it was July but there was a foot of snow outside and they hadn’t had any downtime outside of the timestream for quite a while. It was, they felt, owed to them.

Hey look what I managed to finish!! One 500 word bit for each day, and it’s only semi-belated (technically even semi-early since I posted tomorrow’s drabble along with the rest of them). Pretty pleased with this, it was a fun exercise forcing myself to stay within the 500 word confine. 

TITLE: The Only Place You’ll Wanna Be Is Underneath My Christmas Tree PAIRING: Leonard Snart / Captain Cold + Mick Rory / HeatWave (ColdWave) RATING: Mature WORDS: 1713 Words. WARNINGS: Some mild innuendo, excessive drinking and cursing.

AO3 LINK HERE!

Or it can also be found under the cut!

Title from the song by the Arrogant Worms. Having seen the (sadly) fake news story of Santa beating up a pedophile, it reminded me of the TF2 comic A Smissmas Story, and I figured why not go with a little wish fulfillment. Title: Santa’s Gonna Kick Your Ass Fandom: DC TV Rating: PG-13 for mentions of child molestation Word Count: 1326 In Responds to: ColdWave Week 2016: Since We’ve No Place to Go Characters: Mick, Len Summary: The heartwarming story of Santa beating the shit out of someone’s dad. Len sat at the table, one hand braced against his forehead and unable to look at his partner, knowing he’d get furious if he did. This was supposed to be a simple gig. Through bribery and forged evidence and a very expensive lawyer, Len had gotten the two of them out of a jail sentence and into community service and Mick went and wrecked it on the fourth day. He knew- logically he knew -that Mick wouldn’t have done it without a good reason. He hoped. Community service had been making him fidget since the moment they were told their sentence so chances were even but Len had some kind of faith that Mick hadn’t screwed them over for nothing. The way Mick was sprawled so carelessly on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the mall security’s holding room made it difficult for Len to keeping believing that.

So for today’s prompt fill, which was Polyamory, I decided to go with none other than ColdMaxelWave, for no other reason than because I bloody well could. Yes god. Also, I apologies to anyone who enjoys the remake of ’Black Christmas’. I dragged it through the mud in the ficlet and like… no I’m sorry it was awful. Not even Katie Cassidy could save that movie. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this ficlet. Let me know what you think!

TITLE: A Symphony of Snores. PAIRING: Leonard Snart + Mick Rory + Mark Mardon + Axel Walker  RATING: General WORDS: 1097 Words. WARNINGS: Nothing worth mentioning I don’t think.

AO3 LINK HERE!

Or it can also be found under the cut!

Keep reading

Ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8948221

Fandom: The Flash, Legends of Tomorrow

Characters: Leonard Snart, Mick Rory

Rating PG13 because of the amount of swearing involved

In response to: Coldwave Winter Wonderland, Day 2: outside the snow is falling

A/N: Based on a true story of the shenanigans my dad’s college fraternity brothers got up to in the 1960s. My dad’s fraternity was the basis for Animal House. The irl D-Day got his bike (the one that got driven up the stairs in the movie) in a manner similar to the one I described Mr. D having gotten it (I have no idea what actually happened to that bike afterwards).

Summary: When Snart got one of his what is common sense ideas in his head, based on an ad for a motorcycle in New Hampshire, he drags Mick along to go pick up the thing in the middle of winter.

How Snart had even found that effing bike remained an utter mystery. It was halfway across the goddamn country with an ad saying pick-up and it’ll cost you a hundred bucks. It was the middle of the coldest week of the goddamn year and the weatherman was promising snow with a gleeful tone in his eye and voice that spoke of things to be afraid of: it was too similar to Snart’s tone when he decided to say fuck it to planning and even sense and do something truly fool-headed and fucking awesome because that was how Snart ran. Somehow, Mick doubted the weatherman’s fuck it to common sense was going to be as awesome.

Why he got that delighted glint in his eyes when actually considering going to go get the thing was anybody’s guess. The thing was in New Hampshire at a little school in a town with nothing but the college in college-town New England. But Snart said the owners were looking to sell the bike to someone and he quoted, “who would get as much fun out of it as they had” and they were looking to use the money to buy a nice little farm near Canada to grow something. Mick had looked at Snart kind of weird after that – Snart disapproved of drugs and what did he think they intended to grow there? What kind of farm one could get with a hundred bucks also made Mick stare trying to imagine it and failing.

But sure enough, they packed a few things and some food into a backpack, fished a wallet out of some guy’s back pocket (who the heck even carried their wallet in their back pocket without at least a coat to cover it?) and held out a thumb on the side of the on-ramp onto I-70.

It was cold enough to see their breaths. It was cold enough that Mick’s hands and legs were starting to freeze after a few minutes, so he had to jump to keep his legs alive and rub his hands together. Snart didn’t seem to feel it, only turning to raise an eyebrow at Mick and comment, “Stop being a baby.” Mick blew on his hands. He would have flipped Snart off, but that would have involved separating his fingers and he currently lacked dexterity for that. Snart laughed, shook his head and held his thumb out even higher.

They didn’t have to wait too long. An 18-wheeler going east pulled to a stop beside them. “Where you going?” asked the trucker. Plaid jacket, fleece lined too, Mick would bet money.

“New Hampshire,” was Snart’s answer.

Trucker met Mick’s face with an expression like there was something wrong with his friend. Mick gave a shrug. “Why the hell d’ya wanna go up there?”

“Friend got into college up there. Wanna go see him,” Snart shrugged.

“Can’t take ya the whole way. But I can take you to as far as Cleveland.”

“That’d be great,” Snart said.

“Get in,” trucker nodded them into the cab of his truck.

“Thanks, man,” said Mick.

Twelve hours and seven rest stops later, where Snart agreed to pay for their snacks and coffee, which was to say he was a shameless little flirt when food was on the line and managed to get everything for free, they came to a stop at a rest stop in Cleveland. “Alright,” trucker said, “Last stop before I turn off. Out ya get.”

Snart and Mick filed out with a, “Thank you, sir.”

Next driver took them to Buffalo on I-90. If Mick thought he was cold before, driving along the lakes there was apparently something called Lake Freeze, which should have just been called Freeze Your Balls Off, because that’s what it amounted to. Fortunately, that drive lasted only three hours, and the heat was on full blast, because the driver, while he seemed to be like Snart and not notice things like ice cold balls, at least had the decency to throw on his heater.

Next driver was a camper. RV smelled like cat piss. At least she got them far as Albany. It was still ice cold. He just wanted to let Snart know that.

Next person was a college kid. She didn’t look like a college kid, driving a beat up station wagon, bundled up in a sweater and scarf, and with a more than healthy amount of beer in the back seat of her car. “Get in,” she nodded when they said where they were going. Three hours later, they pulled onto what was clearly the campus of the school. “You know where you’re going?” she asked.

“We’re looking for,” and he recited the address.

Her face brightened. “Old Mr. D-Day’s?” She bit her lip then laughed, “You here to take that bike of his?”

Snart nodded sheepishly.

“Good luck with it. You said the two of you were from where again?”

“Central City. Missouri,” Mick answered.

“Well, according to Mr. D, it was originally from St. Louis, Missouri before he and a fraternity brother drove it here. So, I think it to you.”

“You think?” Mick guffawed. There was no thinking mentioned.

She nodded. “He wants to make sure it goes to somebody just as nuts as he was when he first got it. Have fun taking it back!” She shook her head at them again and parked her car.

They got out and strolled up the street. There was a snowflake. And another one. Mick wished he’d brought his hat. They walked to the address in question and rang the doorbell.

A pleasant man in a green sweater stuck his head out. “Eh? I don’t recognize you. Are you two of my freshmen?”

Snart ducked his head. “We’re actually here about the bike, if now is a good time.”

The man looked from one of them to the other. “Eh, come in. Have some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Snart said as a mug was shoved into his hand. Mick grunted appreciation as a mug was shoved into his.

The man indicated overstuffed chairs and fell back into one himself. “So, you from around here?”

Mick shook his head. “No. This guy brought us here form Central City, Missouri and if we have to pass some test to be able to get this bike, I’m done. I’m going home.”

The man’s face broke into a grin and he laughed.

“Fucking cold out there, right?”

Mick nodded. “Yeah.”

“You know why I asked for someone to come pick it up this week?”

Mick shrugged. “Cause you’re a sadist.”

Snart turned to him. “Mick.”

“Because it was just as cold and miserable when my fraternity brother and I went to go pick it up. We dropped everything, and spur of the moment headed to a town neither of us had ever heard of. And then we had to get it back.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Snart insisted.

“You’re planning on riding the thing home, aren’t you?”

Snart nodded.

“Good. I just wanted to make sure that Poderosa was going to a good home where she would cause a lot of havoc.”

Mick raised an eyebrow. “What is Poderosa?”

“I named the motorcycle that a couple years back when Che Guevara came out. Either of you read it?”

Mick shook his head. “I don’t really read much.”

The man frowned. “Nothing? At all?”

Mick shrugged. “I let loser there read for me.”

Snart said, “We’re more of the doing type than the reading type.”

The man shrugged. “So what do you do?”

Snart grinned at him. “Pick up odd jobs around Central.”

The man held up his palms and nodded. “I can tell when I’m being told to butt out.”

Mick asked, “Why are you selling her anyway?”

The man shrugged. “My wife and an old roommate and I want to go camping together on a farm we’ve had our eyes on for a while up by Canada.”

Mick leaned forward. “You want it to grow pot on.”

The man shrugged. “If a little pot is grown there, it won’t be my doing.”

Snart inclined his head. “So, do we pass?”

The man laughed. “Yes, you do.”

Snart took out the money and handed it to the man, who pocketed it.

“You can stay the night, if you want. I have a porch out back. It’s glassed in.”

“Thanks,” Snart said.

The man showed them to the porch, where there was a bed made up. Mick made a beeline for it. The guy had not mentioned the glassed in porch wasn’t heated, but there was enough heat coming from the house that it wasn’t completely freezing. He kicked off his boots and claimed the pillow for his own.

Snart followed him, bothering to fold back the quilt and climbing under it. “It’ll be warmer under it you know.” Fuck. When he had a point. Mick grumbled something about it being Snart’s fault they were freezing their asses off up here in the first place. When he got under the quilt, Snart was looking concerned. “I didn’t know you’d mind so much, or I wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

Mick turned to look up at Snart’s tired but happy face and at the snow which had started falling in earnest, and thought about the things they had done to get that fucking bike, and about what a great story it would make if either of them ever got around to telling it. “Nah. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Snart nodded and put his head on a pillow he must have grabbed from the window seat on the way by and threw an arm over Mick and was asleep in under a minute. Mick shrugged and followed suit.

The following day, driving the bike called the Poderosa through a blizzard and freezing cold temperatures that Mick knew were what the gleeful expression on the weatherman’s face was about, across New York, down by the Great Lakes and across Ohio and Indiana, Mick shouted at his partner, “Fuck everything I said yesterday! This is the fucking nuts, Snart! You’re hellbent on turning me into an ice-cube, aren’t you?”

TITLE: Making Some New Traditions. PAIRING: Leonard Snart / Captain Cold + Mick Rory / HeatWave (ColdWave) RATING: General WORDS: 921 Words. WARNINGS: Nothing worth mentioning I don’t think.

AO3 LINK HERE!

Or it can also be found under the cut!

I’ll Be Home for Christmas Summary: Mick’s been in prison for three years. He escapes. Len decides to give him a welcome home present: sleeping with another man.

Title: An Absolutely 100% Authentic Hanukkah Fandom: DC TV Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 2321 In Responds to: ColdWave Week 2016: Happy Holidays Characters: Mick, Len, some Lisa Summary: By the sixth day- which Len claims is celebrated by a strip scavenger hunt -Mick finally decides to question the validity of these traditions. He’d known Len was Jewish back in juvie only because, after his close shave with some of the more violent morons, at dinner Len had taken one look at the slop being passed for food and requested a kosher meal. Mick had had all of zero clue as to what that meant until Len- who was damn near persuasive back then as he is now -argued loudly with the warden that not getting him the meal he requested was an infringement on his religion. Beyond food- not that he adhered to it outside of being locked up because Mick is giving up bacon for no one and the smell of that alone is too much temptation for Len to overcome -Len’s Jewishness didn’t affect anything else. Except for getting him the attention of some white-supremacists-in-training but that was going to happen once they found out he’s part black anyway. Mick didn’t mind that too much as it let him blow off some steam beating their asses down. But asides from food, Len’s just a regular guy. Ignoring all the ways he’s extraordinary which Mick is pretty certain isn’t because of his religion. So Mick never really thinks about what being Jewish means, even when they find each other again years after juvie.

Day Three is here already! Goddamn these days are going quick! I went for something a little different for todays prompt, mainly good old fashioned Rogues Shenanigans with a festive twist! Let me know what you think. :)

TITLE: Proud Members Of The Naughty List. PAIRING: Leonard Snart / Captain Cold + Mick Rory / HeatWave (ColdWave) RATING: M WORDS: 2427 Words. WARNINGS: Some pretty crude language and, as per, mild innuendo.

AO3 LINK HERE!

Or it can also be found under the cut!

Title from Kathy’s Song by Apoptygma Berserk. Easter egg: fake names comes from the characters Wentworth Miller and Peyton List played on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit as well as the name of Len and Lisa’s father in the comics. Title: You Know I’m Not a Saint Fandom: DC TV Rating: PG-13 for violence, mentions of child abuse and reliving trauma, implied reference to rape Word Count: 4749 In Responds to: ColdWave Week 2016: Naughty or Nice Characters: Mick, Len, some Lisa Summary: When Len was 11, his father returned from prison a violent, hateful man. At 28 he’s afraid to find out how eight years behind bars has changed his partner. Len went through the checklist again, voice a steady calm and knuckles bone-white on the steering wheel. “You have a week’s worth of clothes?” Lisa rolled her eyes but her arms tightened on the duffel bag in her lap. “Yeah.” “School stuff?” “Yeah.” “Directions on how to get to school and back?” “Yes.” “My contact information, emergency contacts and emergency cash?” “Yeah.” “Remember that money’s for emergencies only and not because you have a hankering of pizza delivery.”

Title: Winter and Santa Claus Summary: Whoever said Mrs. Claus was a Mrs. can shove it up their heteronormative ass.

AKA, Mrs. Claus!Len/Santa!Mick