ranty writes

Don’t do that. Don’t stop appreciating her. You thought that it was the thought that counted? You thought that it was enough that deep down you know you love her? Well, it’s not. Words are meaningless without execution. She is not some prize you fight hard to win then leave on the top shelf, always expecting her to be there. Her love is not conditional, her love is not your right, it is not yours to keep with greedy hands and selfish eyes. Wake up and start fighting for her, or she’ll find someone who ultimately will.
—  To The Men Who Take Their Girlfriends For Granted // Excerpt #62
Hey guys

Actually it’s more like

Sorry I’ve been so MIA! I’ve been locked away writing and working frantically to get my dissertation written. And to top things all off, my PI pushed up one of my deadlines because she wants to go through the full complete thesis first and give me edits before sending it out to my committee (which is understandable, I’m not surprised this happened).

So my completed draft is due to her by Tuesday, and my finished dissertation needs to be to my committee a week from tomorrow. I defend 3 weeks from tomorrow. This is the point I’m at

So thank you for putting up with me and my radio silence, it’s just hardcore go time on my end. The best part is I know you all understand, and we all have to go through this at some point. 

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I can do this. 

every time a r*ylo post somehow ends up on my dash, forcing me to look at it, i just think of all the photos i’ve seen of little girls dressed like rey or playing with their rey toys. i think about all the little girls who left my theater bouncing up and down all excited and talking a mile a minute about how awesome rey is. or the girls on school playgrounds that can no longer be told “girls can’t be jedi” like i always was. i think about all the little kids, girls and boys, for whom rey is their first real hero. and then i get even more angry and disgusted and sad.

why do these people who try so hard to convince everyone that r*ylo is canon not care what that would do to these kids?? r*ylo being canon would do nothing but tell yet another generation of girls that not only are they required to forgive the people who have abused them, even when they do horrible unforgivable things (like, y’know, killing unarmed old men, ordering the execution of an entire village full of people, hurting your friends, killing their dad), but they must stay by their side and fulfill their destiny of bringing them back to the light. that is their purpose - not saving the galaxy, not being their own hero. that’s his job once you save him. 

it would also tell yet another generation of boys that they can get away with doing horrible, unforgivable things and still be the hero and get the girl in the end. it’s their story, after all. not some girl’s.

and that’s only one set of problems with this ship becoming canon.

of course i don’t believe for a hot second that kathleen “rey is so important you guys!!!” kennedy would ever allow that to happen so it’s a moot point anyway.

Thrill

Artemis couldn’t move. Her breath had caught in her throat several minutes ago and she was sure she hadn’t exhaled since. Her limbs felt heavy, her boots glued to the asphalt as if the pavement had grown so hot in the fading summer heat that they had fused with it.

Her fingers curled in something like a death grip on her sword.

Time had stopped.

She could see his eyes, as clear as a spring day, radiant and green and alive against the backdrop of ominous slate clouds that no longer rumbled, that no longer shot lightning from the heavens. The strange storm had stopped as abruptly as Wally West had appeared before her gaze.

Artemis felt her lips move, only to part slightly, as no words would work themselves from her dry throat.

Wally’s wide chest rose and fell as if he had just skidded to a halt at the end of a marathon, the kind of rapid breathing she had seen on him all too often when he’d pushed himself to the limit, when he’d forgone food for too long and his gauge was running on empty. His muscles quivered, from his biceps down to his toned calves, and his vibrant ginger hair stood on end, a few pieces notably singed. If Artemis hadn’t lost her ability to think she might have likened his appearance to the aftermath of jamming his finger into an electrical socket.

He was bare to the world, exposed and yet uncaring; he was just as rooted as she was, had not moved an inch since righting himself and locking astonished and confused emerald eyes on her face. She was sure he had mouthed “Artemis…” then on the barest of breaths, but she couldn’t be sure.

This was all too surreal.

There was a veritable chasm between the two of them, a distance they seemed unable to cross, a stretch of pavement that went on forever. The air was still charged, dancing with electricity, making the fine blonde hairs on Artemis’s forearms stand straight up. She swallowed, blinked.

A few people had gathered on the sidewalks, drawn in by the bizarre stand-off taking place in the middle of the empty street. It was the kind of crazy thing they were all so used to, that though normally the sight of a nude man might have caused laughter, indignation, a ruckus… it caused only silence now, as if even they could feel the thick tension that surrounded the two heroes.

They could never know.

Wally moved first, as he was apt to; he plucked one bare foot from the heavy asphalt, his eyes still locked on Artemis, his mouth parted just as hers was. Her heart thudded into her throat, her grip reflexively tightening on her weapon as he approached, slow and deliberate, as if in a dream. She was sure that’s what this must be: a dream. Wally West had never walked with such careful steps in all his life, not that she had seen.

He seemed afraid that one misstep might shatter the illusion, and the archer stiffened, suddenly scared that if she dared to try and unstick her own boots that this…whatever it was, could all go up in a puff of smoke.

Like so many times before.

It was agonizing, and her chest hurt from the anticipation of disappointment, for that moment when he’d reach out and touch her and she’d wake up alone and gasping in her bed.

Except Wally was there now, just in front of her, his form towering over her a few inches higher than she remembered, but he’d been gone less than a year, that wasn’t possible.

His eyes were wide, and she could see hundreds of freckles smeared across his flushed cheeks.

“…Artemis.

His voice was hoarse from disuse, barely legible, but somehow she caught her name anyway, and something inside of her broke, like a damn giving way after far too many months trying to hold back the swell of water building wildly behind it.

Wally?” she croaked out, a ragged breath, and her vision clouded with unshed tears, turning Wally’s form into a shapeless blob that she could no longer focus on. She gasped in the charged air, feeling it crackle in her lungs, burning, and Wally reached out for her, grabbed her by the arms to steady her.

The shock of his touch thrilled through her limbs like a bolt of lightning, and she collapsed into his arms.

It was no dream.

365 days

otpprompts:

Imagine Person A dying and coming back to life after a year, and Person B freaking out seeing A being alive again.


Fandom: [K]

Characters: Reishi Munakata, Mikoto Suoh
Relationship: Shipping!MikoRei, Friendship!Mikorei (depends on your view really)
Additional info: Plot? What Plot? (In which Ranty attempts to write without a plot.)
Tagging: tasyatazzu​ (because she needs a dose of fluffy!mikorei afer horrendous doses of angsty!mikorei.)


It was on the 366th day after the Ashinaka High School incident that Reishi decided to visit the school personally.

Keep reading

Drabbles from random words, take 1:

Absolute (oh my god I’m sorry I thought the first word was absolute but it was “absolve”! Realized too late!)

He froze. Stopped in his angry stride, the red tint to his boiling face draining with the stark drop in temperature that iced over his veins like the clawing hands of the coldest place on earth.

No. Worse than that. It was like absolute zero.

“I… what?” he gaped, turning his head, disbelieving. For once in his life the act of moving was not desirable, but instead a great effort due to the ice he was sure was forming on his skin. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing like a thick obstruction.

She looked at him. Her head lowered to a menacing angle, glaring at him through those long lashes that fluttered across cheeks flushed with anger each time she would blink. 

Those grey eyes were boring into him; the source of his icy demise.

“It’s. Over.” she ground out, her head jerking sharply to the side, her fist clenched like a death vice on the grip of her bow; he grew wary she might string it on him.

He would deserve no less.

Tea

In the Crock household, a good cup of hot tea was the cure-all.

Got a bad paper cut? Tea.

Didn’t do so hot on that last chemistry exam? Tea.

Your mother thinks you have an not-so-obvious crush on a loud-mouthed, freckled red-head that you complain about more often than not and she won’t stop pestering you about it even though you clearly don’t have any feelings besides annoyance toward said redhead? Lots and lots of tea. Maybe consider adding alcohol if you were old enough.

Sore throat? Tea.

Horrible stomach virus? Tea seems to be the only thing you can keep down.

“Drink your tea, Artemis.”

The blonde groans in protest, shifting under her covers to hold her rumbling, churning stomach so she doesn’t puke all over her poor mother.

“Ten cups mom. Ten. In the last two hours. My stomach is going to explode and it’s not going to be out of my mouth, it’ll be out of my skin. Uuuuugh, bad reference,” she bemoans, regretting the gross and vomit-inducing image her mind entreats her with. “Let me die here.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Paula admonishes, forcefully pushing the steaming hot cup into Artemis’s hand. “No one ever died from the stomach flu.”

Artemis just glared at her with tired eyes, and tipped the cup to her parched lips.

Bottle

The animal thrashes, a picture of panic and ruffled feathers that Kaldur'ahm walks toward with every air of calm. The bird tries to squawk, but the sound is muffled and altogether useless with the glass bottle ensnaring it’s vibrant yellow beak. 

“Shh,” Kaldur consoles as he inches closer, lifting one hand slowly and edging it toward the sea gull. “I will not hurt you, friend.”

The bird squirms a bit more, but it does not scatter, much to the Atlantean’s relief. He reaches out, carefully taking hold of the glass and holding onto the bird’s back lightly. He continues to exude a sense of tranquility, knowing that negative emotions must always be quelled when dealing with creatures of the sea (or beach) in distress.

This isn’t the first time he’s dealt with surface world trash disrupting the daily life of an animal.

With little hassle the bottle is removed after a few minutes of gentle wiggling and soft strokes of the gull’s white feathers. Kaldur smiles.

“There you are,” he says, getting one stroke in under it’s chin before it’s gone in a ruffling of it’s wings. An appreciative caw carries back to him on the tide.

He looks at the bottle, his smile turning down at the corners. 

Even the private beach of Mount Justice holds debris left over from perhaps some far off time when it was visited by others, or maybe washed in over the years.

Regardless, Kaldur is ever vigilant on his evening strolls across the shifting sands, and he feels satisfied that at least this small strip of land is under his careful watch.

Fish

“Ugh, is this like, seriously a thing?” Artemis complained, her body soaked with sea water. She was pretty sure she smelled like a barrel of chum left out in the hot sun, but that was probably the least of her worries on this little adventure she’d somehow wound up joining Robin and Batman on by happenstance.

“I’m pretty sure it is,” Robin said gravely, picking up the gross, sickly looking fish by it’s green tail. It was dead, by the looks of it, hanging limply from between the Boy Wonder’s fingers. 

Artemis scrunched her nose up, wringing out her long blonde hair. While Robin examined the animal, the she pulled her quiver off and dumped out all the unwanted seaweed, noting with dismay that only four of her arrows had survived their little tumble into churning Gotham harbor.

“Ugh, I’m only good for four more shots,” she said, clipping the container back on.

“Woah!”

Robin dropped the fish. Startled, Artemis watched it fall to the deck, where it flopped around and gnashed sharp, yellow, needle-like teeth that were set inside of a mouth that seemed to be grinning up at them with a sense of insanity.

If, you know, it were possible for a fish to be insane.

“And I thought anchovies were bad… ” the archer murmured, scooting away from the energetic attempts to bite at her ankles. She frowned. “You know, that thing kind of looks a little like…”

They both looked at each other in horror.

“The Joker!”

Locket

M'gann gaped at the gift that Conner had dropped on her so suddenly. It dangled from his hand on a chain, and it was of little matter that the boy hadn’t even bothered to wrap it proper.

“Conner, where did you get this?” she gasped, reaching out and grabbing the silver chain. She examined it, joy and happiness and shock and delight racing through her spectrum of emotions so fast it made her eyes water a little. 

It was a locket. A beautiful little locket with a simple oval shaped pendant at it’s center, and inside that oval was a tiny picture of herself and Conner from one of the dates she’d managed to drag him into a photo-booth during. She looked happy and he looked disgruntled but amused.

That wasn’t even the best part, though.

“Conner this looks just like-”

“The locket Conner gives Megan in episode 23 of Hello! Megan,” he finished for her, smiling a little. “Yeah, that would be the one.”

“But… but where did you get this! It’s perfect!” M'gann gushed, smiling so wide it hurt her cheeks. Her heart felt swelled, and before Conner could even begin to explain his gift, she martian squealed and threw herself at him in a fierce hug.

It was pretty much the best gift she ever received.

Candle

“Well, fancy meeting you here. Bonjour, madame.”

Artemis smirked, raising an eyebrow at his simpering tone.

“Wally, what are you doing?”

“I’m seducing you,” he grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. He looked like an absolute doofus with the candle-light flickering over his face while he was doing that. Artemis gave a tiny laugh and pushed playfully on his jaw, brushing past him to continue drying her hair off with a towel.

“Well, you’ll have to seduce me another time because I really have to-”

“Already taken care of,” Wally supplied, coming up behind her and taking the towel out of her hands. She heard it hit the wall somewhere out of her line of sight.

“You mean you-”

“Yep.”

“And the-”

“Babe they don’t call me a speedster for nothing.”

“That was a double negative.”

“It was, wasn’t it? How about we turn it into a double positive?” More eyebrow wiggling. The scent of cinnamon candle wax curled into her nose and the room was warm and Wally was a dork and she just laughed at it all.

“You are going to have to do a whole lot of seducing tonight, Kid Romantic,” she laughed, a husky sound of content that escaped her throat as she twisted in his grasp and grabbed his neck, pulling him closer to her face.

“Oh, I’m just getting started future Mrs. West.”

Hanging

There was something about that moment of suspension during a feat of acrobatics that Dick was just addicted to.

He supposed it came from growing up in Haley’s Circus, of spending the earliest days he could remember either watched high wire acts or performing them himself.

When his feet were off the ground, and he was neither attached to the earth nor to the sky… he felt a sense of peace. A weightlessness that lasted for less than a few seconds but lingered in his thoughts and his pumping blood for much longer.

There was an uncertainty of not knowing where he might land, but a security in knowing he always had the power to land right where he wanted to.

When a Grayson was in the air, there was no stopping him. 

He was in his element.

I'm obligated to get my werewolf on during Halloween. I shall not apologize, just give you Spitfire/werewolf thingssssssss:

“So, if I turned into a werewolf, would you still date me?”

Artemis raised her eyebrow at Wally, a small laugh escaping her as he gazed at her very seriously with shampoo running down between his eyes. He spluttered when it reached his lips.

“Well, looks like you’d have the foaming part down, babe,” she teased, wetting her hand and splashing the suds away.

“I’m serious!”

“The Wallman, forever asking the real questions in life,” Artemis mused, leaning her head back into the stream of hot water behind her head to wash away the soap.

“That’s right. Knowing whether my amazing, super hot babe would still date me if I grew fur in unsightly places is very important to me.”

Artemis smacked his chest, and the sound was much loduer than she anticipated, but he didn’t seem hurt by the force. She feigned a face of intense contemplation while she switched places with him so he could rinse his own locks.

“That depends. Are you the kind that wants to rip me to pieces, or the kind that wants to get all kinky in bed?”

“Artemis, do you even have to ask?” he deadpanned.

“Nope, just as classy as you always are,” Artemis said, leaning over to bite his chin while his head was leaned back. He squeaked at the playful pinch, leaning up to rub at his chin with a pouting expression.

“Am I supposed to take that as a yes?”

“Maybe. But this all just begs the question: would you stick with me in the same circumstances?”

Wally grabbed her slick waist and pulled her to him, close enough that her breasts mashed against his chest pleasantly. “Oh, babe, yes. I mean, sign me up for that! I’d be begging you bite me.”

“But I never said whether I was a stable werewolf.”

“It doesn’t even matter, just take me, hot werewolf!” Wally said dramatically, then threw his head back in a loud, off-key imitation of a wolf howling. Artemis scoffed loudly and socked his shoulder, causing him to trail off into a chorus of laughter.

She joined him a second later when they heard Nelson howling and barking in response to the horrible caterwauling.

Title: Shifting Feelings

Characters/pairings: Artemis Crock, Wally West, Spitfire

Genre: Romance/Supernatural

Rating: T

Chapter Length: 6,066

Summary: Wally West was just a scientist trying to get by in the crime ridden Gotham City, and it was all working out until the night he met the mysterious Artemis Crock. Romance blooms as the violence in Gotham rises beyond imaginable possibilities. And the dangers that lie hidden in the slums are nothing Wally’s science can explain. Spitfire AU.

Link to Chapter 1:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10687662/1/Shifting-Feelings

(behold the start of the monstrosity! Please don’t read this with high expectations it’s not really that exciting)

elsakey  asked:

✔, ♥ , and/or ♟ for Spitfire pretty please! :D

✔:

She’s always liked science. Finding out how things tick, what makes compounds and chemicals froth and boil and explode. But she was only ever just interested in it; she did her homework, she got A’s and B’s, and she enjoyed labs with her classmates.

She’s never put so much extra effort into a science class before now. She’s never cared this much.

“Girl, are you still working on that essay?” Zatanna asks Artemis at four o’clock in the morning, shuffling into the kitchen in a fluffy white robe. She rubs at her tired eyes, peering at the bright screen of Artemis’s laptop, which provides the only light. “You do realize we have class in like… four hours?”

Artemis blinks at the time in the corner of her screen; had that much passed already?

"Oh, I’ve been done with it. I was just… asking West a few questions about it.”

Zatanna comes quite awake. She looks more closely at what Artemis has pulled up in front of her, and her eyes widen.

“Oh my god, are you instant messaging your chemistry professor!?”

Artemis scowls, turning the laptop screen away from her roommate.

“No! First of all, he’s a grad-student, not a professor. Second, I’m emailing him.”

"Back and forth? Like, right now?” Zee presses. Artemis shifts uncertainly in her seat, but the hesitation is all the raven haired girl needs. “You are!”

"I just needed some help!”

“I knew you were getting a crush on him!” Zatanna laughs. Artemis’s cheeks turn deep scarlet.

"I do not have a crush on him, Zee. He’s a total dork and he always manages to blow something up, and he always wears button ups and sweater vests and he makes the lamest, most god-awful chemistry puns I’ve ever heard,” Artemis says, groaning at the very thought of some of the science joke atrocities the redhead has invented.

"You like hiiiiim!” Zatanna sing-songs, skipping over to the fridge for milk. “You know, I’ve been suspecting something ever since you started obsessing over your Chem homework.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about; I’ve always liked science. Since we were in highscool.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” Zee grins, pulling her glass away to reveal a slight milk mustache. She wipes it away with her robe sleeve and deposits her empty glass in the sink. “You always want to do your science first. It’s always ‘Zee, I can’t do that right now, I have to finish my Chem work’. You. Like. Him. Just admit it, Artemis!”

“I’m going to bed.”

“The quicker you sleep, the sooner you get to see Wally West tomorrow, right?”

"Good-night, Zee!”

send me one dollar on paypal and i'll send you a character trait that you can keep forever and use however you want

example: can’t stop thinking about the potato harvest; has literally never touched a fork in their entire lives; wants their first born child to look and behave exactly like dwight schrute

i will even give you a small blurb explaining why they have that trait

each one will be hand crafted by a local artisan (me) all proceeds go to a very prestigious art institution (me)

my paypal is enelson554@gmail.com and u gotta tell me where to send it (blog url, etc)

(Merry Christmas, Veggy!)

(VEGGY THOUGHT UP THESE EVIL VERSIONS (minus Tigress of course, although her AU evil backstory was done by Veg) SO I’M JUST BORROWING THEM)

The halls of the facility were dark and abandoned. He had taken care of the guards with quick efficiency, leaving them quite alive but very much incapacitated for a few hours. There was something about passing his hand right through their skulls that tended to have that effect, and usually left them with bloody noses. It had sort of become his mark, and he was pretty proud of it.

It was like his signature: Velocity was here.

Navigating dark hallways was no problem for the speedster. A few quick turns of the lenses of his goggles, followed by a soft click, and he was thrown into night vision mode. Easy peezy.

One, two, three, four more unsuspecting security guards were unconscious within a blink of the eye, and then he was in front of an imposing door made of thick steel.

He just grinned at the gesture of top security, then vibrated right through to his destination. 

The hot smell of something metallic filled his nostrils, and with a pang of mild anger he swiped his gloved hand under his nose to draw away the blood that trickled out in a steady rivulet. It continued to overwhelm his olfactories while he walked into the room, the harsh odor a constant irritation every time he tried full body molecular excitement. 

The room was spacious, with scattered lab equipment and clean tables that had been wiped down for the night. As always he felt comfortable in a lab setting, but he wasn’t there to stop and smell the beakers.

As if he could anyway, he thought angrily as he wiped his nose again, the crimson stark on his ebony uniform.

Velocity was more interested in the safe resting inside the wall at the back of the room. Well, it was more like a cold storage container, but it was set up in much the same way as a safe.

Luckily, Raptor had supplied him with the code he would need to get into it; it was always nice to have a best pal that excelled at gathering sensitive information. Even if he was a little on the insane side.

Velocity punched the code in, laughing in satisfaction at the agreeable beep that meant the digits had been accepted. There was something infinitely more gratifying about getting in fair and square instead of having exert energy vibrating into the containment unit.

Cool vapor rushed out and swirled around him as he pulled the door open, but the nearly arctic temperatures that wafted against his uniform in an icy blast did little to penetrate his naturally warm body.

Inside, there were several shelves full of tubes marked with chicken scratch. Some of the solutions were easily recognizable by Velocity, and if he weren’t so set on the science he had come for in the first place, he would have been gathering up as many as he could in his arms.

Instead, he immediately grabbed for a small, pill-shaped tube made out of metal. It was sealed tight, but there was no doubt in his mind this was it. He snatched it up, staring in awe at the casing that contained the latest in biotechnology; oh, the things he could do with this tiny little vial…

Velocity popped open the compartment he had on his left wrist. A thick, heavy bracelet with a hollow section that would stay cold just long enough for him to get back to base with his prize. Ten minutes, tops, but he wouldn’t even need five of that time.

Taking a moment to close the security storage (he didn’t want to ruin what he was sure to come back for another time), he made his way out. 

Not even the nosebleed he suffered for vibrating back through the steel doors could bring him down, not when he was well on his way to victory; all he had to do was speed down the halls again and he’d be home free.

Except he didn’t make it that far.

Velocity had just reached the end of the hall with the steel door, and was about to put on a monstrous burst of exhilarated speed when he caught movement in his periphery. Faster than even his reflexes could react, though, there was a sharp whipping sound that followed a heavy bola entangling his feet together.

He yelped in shock, going down hard from the force of the heavy metal spheres clacking together around his ankles. In mid fall, another crack sounded out and he felt his flailing arms become constricted by a second bola. With nothing left to catch himself on, he speedster fell onto his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs in a whoosh.

His chin ached and gasped for air, blinking through the red tint of his goggles with confusion.

What the heck…

Footsteps. Something nudged his side hard enough to make him wince and shut his eyes tight. 

Then he was flipped onto his back, and something warm and solid settled just above his crotch, the pressure incredibly uncomfortable.

“I figured you’d beat me here,” a husky voice mused.

Velocity recognized that voice. His mouth formed into a huge, easy smile, and if his hands had been free he would have cushioned his head on top of them with a sense of relaxation.

He opened his eyes, seeing just the woman he had expected.

“Well hey, gorgeous,” Velocity greeted with a suggestive roll of his tongue, not at all bothered by his current situation. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Cut the chatter, moron,” Tigress said seriously. She pulled her signature orange crossbow from her thigh holster and pointed it at his chest threateningly. “I think you have something I need.”

“Tigress!” he faked astonishment. “Right here? In the middle of Star Labs? I never would have thought you were in to that kind of thing.”

“Not even in your dreams, speedy,” she snapped, pushing the crossbow into his chest. He could feel the sharp tip bite right through his spandex and nick the skin there; it’d be healed and gone within two hours, but the cut was enough to remind him of just how dangerous Tigress could be. “Hand over the capsule and this won’t have to get dirty.”

“I have no idea what capsule you are referring to,” Velocity bluffed, shaking his head back and forth. He could feel her legs tighten like a vice on either side of him, and her weight pushed down on him harshly; he knew it was meant to be a threat, to push him against the floor until it hurt. It did, especially with the thigh straps of her uniform digging into his hips. But apparently a certain part of his anatomy was getting a slightly different signal, and he really needed to get his mind elsewhere before he gave Tigress the wrong idea.

Or the right idea, depending.

“Perhaps if you tell me what capsule you’re looking for, me and my friend Raptor can help you retrieve it…” he suggested, trailing off pointedly.

Tigress snorted, shoving the crossbow back into her holster and starting to pat him down with gloved hands.

“My answer is the same as last time, Velocity; I’m not interested in forming a villains club with you and your insane boyfriend,” the blonde said, her gray eyes alighting on his bracelet. 

"Well for starters I can assure you he’s not my boyfriend, and for second, what harm could it possibly cause?” Velocity prodded, trying to draw her attention away from the compartment on his wrist. It seemed to work for a moment, her eyes flicking back down to his. 

His mouth fell open lightly when she moved her face close to his. Her hands came up to his face, pushing the goggles away from his eyes until they rested on his forehead. Her lips were full and unamused, and it occurred to him that this was the closest she’d ever gotten to him. He could feel her breath on his face as she pushed her mask up, revealing a beautiful, angular face that made his heart stutter.

She leaned closer.

“I’m not interested,” Tigress reiterated with deadly calm. He heard a pop as her fingers found the switch on his bracelet. 

“Why?” he asked again, trying to memorize the face while he had the chance. As if she could sense what he was doing, she pushed her mask back over her features, and Velocity felt a tiny sound of disappointment burst past his lips unbidden; he had not been able to capture the way she looked in time.

The blonde smirked, patting his cheek. She sat up on him, holding the metal capsule between two of her fingers triumphantly. 

“It’s a lonely world, Velocity,” Tigress stated matter-of-factly, using his chest as leverage to push herself up onto her feet. She took the time to pop a cold compartment on her belt and deposit the sample safely, before her eyes were peering down at him with something like a barely concealed sadness. “Where I come from, the lonlier you are, the better.”

Velocity watched her with troubled green eyes, until she threw several smoke pellets around him. He went into a fit of coughing, and when the smoke cleared, she was long gone.

Feeling dazed, and surprisingly okay with the fact that his precious science had been stolen from him, he vibrated through the bolas with ill-of-ease. He stared down the hall she had disappeared into, rubbing some feeling back into his limbs.

Shaking his head, he zoomed away.

Raptor wasn’t too happy about the loss, but then, he was never hugely happy about anything. Whenever he was, his loud, maddening cackles were enough of a giveaway.

Still, it wasn’t a total loss. 

On his next heist, Velocity was pretty sure he felt like he was being followed, and after he had grabbed the technology from Wayne Tech. Industries and turned to leave, he found a tiny metal box resting at his feet, seemingly out of no where.

Upon popping the lid, a huge grin spread across his face, and a devious happiness filled his chest.

A cold metal capsule awaited inside of it.