- reuniting with old friends! - the MASSIVE rainbow flag
- marched near the front of the parade between the Dykes on Bikes and very enthusiastic GSA students :) the Hype is real
- a genderqueer asexual thanked me profusely for wearing my ace flag ♥ - bringing ace representation to my area! ♥♥♥
- got more swag for my dog than for me! - SRSLY SO MANY DOGS <3
- everyone was jealous of my rainbow lips (and they lasted all day!)
- even the sun came out ;) - SAW QUEER ICON THE BABADOOK AND TOLD HIM I LOVE AND SUPPORT HIM!!!
Do you remember how you first came up with the idea for Rock and Riot? Is there anything you can share about how it has changed since its inception?
It first came about because I was doodling cute 50′s girlfriends! I had originally planned for Connie to be a teen that delivers newspapers and rides around on a bike and had a crush on the cute blonde girl a couple neighborhoods over. They would eventually meet Gene and Clyde who were already boyfriends and the story would end with the 4 of them going on a big gay road trip
I changed it when I was designing 50′s girl gangs for a personal class project and I decided to mesh the two ideas together!
Bike Crush: the @carlfogarty1 Triumph tracker on display at @bikeshedmc. Found via @thebullitt.
#triumph #triumphbonneville #tracker #streettracker #flattrack #flattracker #modernclassic
Serious argument between the two. Perhaps, it even got to the point where one considered ending the relationship but they eventually talked it out and maybe it got emotional and they decided they loved each other too much to ever let the other one go
1. As soon as Tony said the words, he hated himself. How could he say something so cruel to the one person he loved most? They were arguing over something small and pointless - neither of them knowing when the fight got so escalated. Ten fucking words ruined his life, “Why do I even waste my time with you, Clay?!”
2. Clay felt his eyes fill with tears but forced himself not to cry, even as Tony was already apologizing and reaching out weakly. Clay just shook his head and backed away towards his bike. “Don’t worry, I’ll remember to stay out of your fucking way from now on.” Tony slammed his toolbox in anger as Clay rode away.
3. Clay almost crashed several times on his way home, his sight blurry from the tears in his eyes. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and almost threw it in anger, not wanting to deal with Tony or anyone. He went straight to his room, thankful that his parents were on vacation so they couldn’t harass him with questions.
4. For the next week, Clay avoided Tony at all costs. He ignored his calls and texts and made sure he was never alone in the hallways - going to the length of staying around Courtney or Sherri. He even woke up extra early to ride his bike, knowing that Tony would come over to try and give him a ride to school. (which he did)
5. By Friday, Tony couldn’t stand it anymore. He didn’t know if they were still together, that one thought scaring him more than anything. He didn’t like the silence, the cold shoulder, and he was determined to fix his mistake. Tony waited for Clay to leave the school before blocking the path towards the bikes, his heart crushing more since Clay wouldn’t even look at him as he begged for them to talk things out.
6. Clay wanted nothing more than to push him aside and just go home. But once he noticed how sullen and desperate Tony looked, he reluctantly agreed. They sat in the mustang and Tony apologized. He said that he never meant the words and how this past week without him has been hell. Tony explained that seeing Clay look so broken hurt him in ways he couldn’t even describe, and after a long and emotional heart-to-heart, they made up and promised to never let their relationship get that bad again.
Imagine: You’re Barry’s older sister, and after a one-night stand
with a stranger, you don’t expect to run into them again. Especially
when you find out he’s Leonard Snart: wold-class criminal, Captain Cold
& an altogether pain in your ass.
A/N: So, this is my first reader-insert/imagine. It’s one I was going to submit to thefastarrow, but ended up writing myself, because it went from a single imagine to a short series of them. Altogether, there will be 6, and this one is likely going to be the longest of them all. Hope you enjoy it!
“Y/N!” Barry called, moving to follow you as you storm out of the cortex.
But you stop, pivoting to face him. Your frustration at your younger brother is clearly visible upon your face. “Stop Barry. You need to understand that while I may not have speed healing like you, I can still take care of myself. Now, just let me go cool off, before I do something really stupid.” You tell him, relishing for a moment in his scolded-puppy look. Before he can win you over with his adorable-ness, in only the way your baby brother could, you turn back to continue your leave.
“And don’t you dare follow me!” You call back over your shoulder.
You storm your way out of S.T.A.R. Labs and to your favorite motorcycle. It was one you’d gotten as soon as you were 18 and Joe was unable to really deny you of purchasing it. You’d treated it well in the years since, even if it wasn’t in the greatest condition. However, you still loved the thing.
You needed to let off some steam. Or sparks, really, as Cisco would say. So, with the rev of your motorcycle, you swiftly made your way through Central City to one of the few places you ever went to that Barry would not come looking for you.
Saints and Sinners was, in a sense, your guilty pleasure. You made a stop by the dive bar about once a month; more if, like tonight, you needed to relax in an environment where no one except the bartender was likely to recognize you. You were the adoptive father of a cop, someone who would likely get targeted if anyone hear knew who you were exactly, but people tended to mind their own business within the walls of Saints and Sinners, even if it was criminal business. Joe, however, would most likely kill you if he ever knew you went here. Despite the fact that you were an independent, kick-ass woman in her early thirties who knew how to handle herself, thank you very much. It helped, now, that you were basically a human-taser, thanks to your meta-human capabilities to control electricity.
It was a Tuesday evening, but despite that, Saints and Sinners was fairly busy. You made your way through the crowd towards the bar, requesting for a shot of whiskey as soon as you had the bartender’s attention. As soon as the small glass was place in front of you, you lift it to your lips and swallow the dark amber liquid in one pull, enjoying the burn of the liquor as it rushes down your throat.
“Another.” You say, setting the glass down on the wooden bar top. As the bartender goes to grab the whiskey again, you feel a shift in the air next to you, but pay it no mind due to the busy state of the bar. That is, until a stranger’s voice reaches your ears.
“A lone woman going straight for the whiskey. Now, why do I have a feeling there’s a story here?”
You turn towards the voice and it’s owner, raising an eyebrow at the man before you. He was a few years older than you, at least, as well as a few inches taller. His hair is short, his age really only told by the beginnings of greying throughout the fine hairs. He was handsome, no woman in their right mind could deny that, and that smirk that had been settled on his lips was one that would send most women to her knees. You, however, are not so easily swayed.
“Just relieving the stress of a familial dispute.” You tell the stranger with a shrug. “My baby brother thinks he’s invincible, and has to protect me at all times. Even though it tends to lead to him being the one getting hurt. I can take care of myself.”
The man’s smirk grows slowly. “Well, if I had a sister as breath-taking as you, I’d be over-protective as well.”
You chuckle softly, nodding to the bartender in a silent thanks as they finally returned to pour your second shot. The bartender looks at the man standing next to you, who nods and another shot gets poured for him before the bartender is off helping another patron once more. You settle your hand around your shot glass, thumb running along the rim as you look at the man next to you again. “Like I said, I can handle my own.” You tell him before lifting the shot glass up in a silent toast.
The man raises his own and, together, you tip your heads back with the shot glasses to your lips. As you swallow this shot, your eyes watch the man’s neck as he swallows his own.
“I’m sure you can.” The man says as he sets the shot glass back on the bar, turning to you and giving you a quick once over. “The name’s Leonard.”
“Y/N.” You respond.
“Pretty. So, besides shots of cheap whiskey, what are you drinking, Y/N?” He says your name in a way that is downright sinful, causing the slightest shiver to travel along your spine.
“If you’re offering to buy me a drink, Leonard, I’d say gin and tonic, or a rum & coke.” You told him, grinning slowly.
Leonard chuckled, nodding before turning to the bartender, who’d paused in front of the pair of you again. “Two rum and cokes.” He said, glancing at you with his ice-blue eyes. “Put them on my tab.”
Your grin turns into a genuine smile. Looked like tonight was finally looking up.
Three weeks had passed since your last visit to Saints and Sinners. Night was approaching as you swerved through cars on your way to the Central City Train Station. A part of you was pissed at Barry, your brother behaving like a child about the cold gun Cisco had designed as a precaution. You may have woken up before Barry, had a few months with the S.T.A.R. Labs team more than he did, but Cisco had still been cautious, and he had every right to be. So Barry had run off to face Leonard Snart, who now had the cold gun, alone, and you were worried as you rushed after him. You were also hopeful that Leonard Snart wasn’t the same Leonard that you’d met at the dive bar a few weeks back, since you’d yet to see a picture of the thief.
You got to the back of the station in time to see a figure in a dark blue parka hope onto a train just as it started to leave the terminal. Believing it to be Snart, you reached up to press the talk button of your communication device. “Cisco, would I derail a train if I sucked the power from the lines?” You asked.
“Yeah, I would not advise doing that.” He responded quickly.
“Old-West style train chase it is then.” You say, revving your bike before speeding off after the train. As you near the train, the familiar yellow lightning blur you know to be your brother passes you by before getting on the same train car that Snart had gotten on.
There was no way to jump onto the train from the very end, so deciding to jump on between two cars, you start to move farther up the side of the train, going over loose gravel and dirt. A flash of white-blue light comes from a car a few ahead from the end, and suddenly the train is jerking up and off the tracks, ice having consumed the bottom half of one of the train cars ahead.
The next few seconds seemed to slow down as you swore, swerving your bike to avoid being crushed by the metal train car. You spun as the last train car next to you started tilting towards you, the wheel kicking up gravel as it tried to get traction. Finally you were shooting back towards the station, but the end of the train car clipped your back wheel and sent you flying.
You hit the ground with a thud, a groan escaping you as you rolled a short distance from the tracks. But the train car was still crashing towards you. You tried to scramble to your feet, cursing this time in pain as you collapsed back, your right leg not wanting to cooperate with you. Just as the train car was about to roll over and crush you under it, the yellow blur of your brother was suddenly coming at you, then pulling you away in a flash.
You and Barry rolled together until you slid to a stop a short distance from where you’d nearly gotten crushed to death. You were breathing heavily at the pain in your leg, teeth gritting together. Barry was moving to stand so he could help you up when a blast of white-blue light hit him in the back. The cold coming from the blast sent a shiver along you. Ice formed around Barry’s waist as he turned onto his back to look at the one approaching them. You lifted yourself up, resting your weight on your elbows to glare at Snart, seeing his face for the first time, knowing exactly who he was.
“Well, look at this, you have yourself a partner in crime.” The familiar voice drawled. You mentally wince, hoping that Snart doesn’t recognize you under the black mask that covered most of your face. Since Barry was unable to move due to the icy belt pinning him the the ground, Snart had the cold gun that Cisco had built aimed at you, silently daring you to move. You glared up at him, earning a grin from the criminal before he turned his focus onto Barry. “Pretty fast kit, but not fast enough.” He commented. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Barry ground out, slowly lifting himself up onto his elbows, almost a mirror of yourself.
“You force me to up my game,” Snart informed him, “not only with this gun, but with how I think about the job. It’s been educational.” You heard the cold gun begin to whirl, charging up for a shot that made you tense, the gun still aimed at you and knowing that you wouldn’t be able to shock Snart before he pulled the trigger.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in at Cisco’s voice, relief washing over you.
“This is a prototype cold gun: four times the size, four times the power.” Cisco warned the criminal.
Snart had turned his head slightly to look back at Cisco, who stood holding a short of gun-like hose that connected to a brightly lit cylinder container being carried by Caitlin and Felicity Smoak, who was visiting from Starling City. “I was wondering who you were talking to.” He commented.
“Hey,” Cisco snapped, “unless you want a taste of your own medicine, I’d back the hell up.”
Snart looked at him, grinning smugly. “Your hands are shaking.” He commented, and a quick glance at Cisco told you Snart was telling the truth on that. “You’ve never killed anyone.”
“There’s a first time for everything, Captain Cold.”
Snart let out a single, huffing chuckle, head tilting back as he grinned at the nickname.
“I will shoot you.” Cisco said after a moment, when Snart had still not lowered the gold gun.
Snart looked at him again, then turned his attention back to you and Barry. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before focusing on your brother. “You win, kid.” He said, lifting the cold gun up, resting it against his shoulder. “I’ll see you around.” He smirked, then turned to leave.
Cisco turned, following him so the hose-like gun stayed aimed at Snart. “Hey, leave the diamond.”
“Don’t push your luck.” Snart commented over his shoulder.
You made to get up and follow the thief, but a sudden jolting pain in your leg had you collapsing back onto the gravel, your wound forgotten for a moment. When you looked up again, Snart was gone, everyone’s attention on you as Caitlin made her way to you to check on your leg.
“Couldn’t have shot him if I wanted to.” You heard Cisco say as Caitlin felt for a break in your leg. “This is actually the S.T.A.R. Labs vacuum cleaner, with a lot of LED’s.”
You huffed out a laugh, wincing at the pain that followed a sharp press of Caitlin’s fingers along your leg. In the end, though, you really only had two pressing thoughts: You’d slept with a world-class criminal & your bike had better be in one piece.
Chapter summary: In which Keith tries to get on better terms with Pidge and she’s not having it.
Keith sighed again and rubbed his face. Should it be this hard to befriend somebody like Pidge? Why must she be extremely difficult at random times? Wasn’t it her fault they were in this unusual scenario to begin with? Wasn’t she the one who crushed his bike and volunteered to take him to Florida?
He shook his head. Whatever. None of that mattered now. What’s important at the moment is how they’re acting towards each other. They got to be on better terms and get along if they want to make this trip as smooth as possible. If he needed to be the one to take the first step to make that happen, he will.
A very pretty, very blonde girlfriend named Sophie.
Alex knows what it feels like to be punched in the gut and it feels exactly like this.
When she leaves the scene, she finds herself wishing she was home in Midvale. The view of the stars there is like no other. When she’d feel down, or angry, she’d lay in her backyard and look at the stars. She found that only good things came from the stars because the stars gave her Kara and she was far and away the best thing that happened to Alex.
But she was here in the city, where air pollution made it nearly impossible to find even the simplest of constellations.
Alex goes to her apartment instead.
She lays down on the comfortable throw rug that sits in the middle of her living room. It’s just about the only nice thing she bought herself for this apartment. She’s not here enough to appreciate fine decor most of the time anyway. But this rug? Well it was worth splurging on.
She closes her eyes and pictures the stars against her eyelids. It’s not nearly as good as the real thing but it’s going to have to do for now.
Bike Crush: @clockworkmotorcycles’s personal bike. Reminds me of the machine a Spitfire or P-51 ace would ride in his spare time ⚡⚡⚡. More info on @pipeburn! #harleydavidson #sportster #tracker #streettracker #bobber