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General Permissions

OOC:
Backtagging: Yes. Always.
Fourthwall: Let's discuss
Format: Doesn't matter - I'll match prose with prose or action spam.

IC
physical contact: Big no unless there is previous CR or you are Barry Allen, Mick Rory or Sara Lance
romance: Prefer slow burns. M/F or M/M
smut: Sure
injuries/death: Let's talk
canon: The Flash/Legends of Tomorrow
timeline: varies
rule!63, original characters: case-by-case.

SHIPS

• FAVES: Barry Allen, Mick Rory, Sara Lance, my kingdom for a Diana Prince
• YES WITH BUILDUP: All of them, I prefer a slow build
• NO: Underage, Vandal Savage
• OTHERS: open to others not on the no list. Personally I would love to see him against more prickly sorts like Bruce Wayne or Oliver Queen.

Hurting - for @sleight_of_fate

The job shouldn't have gone sideways, shouldn't have gone so everfucking wrong. But it had. New security upgrade that they hadn't been told about, hadn't gotten the plans for. Cold is all for improvising but he is going to ice their contact for an oversight like that.

Provided he doesn't bleed to death first.

The bullet caught him high in the chest which was an honest relief. Any lower and he'd drown in his own blood. Cold had barely made it to Rhys's conscious, passing out shortly after he broke in.

A distressed voice and hands on him had Snart fighting for consciousness. No. No. Don't touch. Rhys had moved him, was using a small pair of silver scissors to cut up the front of his shirt. He can hear the indrawn breath as his scars are exposed. His flaws. Every time when he wasn't strong enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't something. Len forces his eyes open and for a moment all of his walls are down as he closes a bloody hand over a tattooed wrist.

"Don't." A broken plea. Don't talk about the scars. Don't ask where they came from. "Please."

Before Rhys can acknowledge or even protest, he slips back into the darkness.

Homecoming - for @cutepoison

I'll call you tomorrow.

Len should switch off his phone, should stop looking at the damn screen. It was a promise he shouldn't have made but there weren't exactly a laundry list of people he could talk to about what happened to him.

"And I want you to be able to feel like you can ask for it, that you'll be safe or have a place to go when you need it. I'll be here."

Not exactly an offer he'd planned on taking Michael up on, but after the Vanishing Point, Len needed to talk this through with someone. While he could reach out to Mick, Hunter, or anyone else on the Waverider they had bigger issues to deal with. Snart had never anticipated trusting the kid, much less considering him family but here he is, ready to lay everything out on the table.

Falling into time. Dying.

Fuck it. He might have died but he still needs to sleep. Len sets the phone down with far more force than necessary and rolls over with a huff. He can call Michael in the morning.

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The decision doesn't seem any smarter in the morning, but as soon as Len is setting foot back in Central City, he's pulling out his phone to call Michael.

"Think Barry can spare you for an evening?"