#its better when you know your partner and trust them! sometimes theres equipment but sometimes you just go for it!!

[bittsandpieces]

Is it bad if a guy is still a virgin at 29

THERE IS NO MORAL IMPLICATION TO THE STATUS OF YOUR VIRGINITY

[legends-live-in-memories]

Talk So Pretty, But Your Heart Got Teeth

AYO another day another oneshot as a part of the MGI Trope Tussle! BUT WAIT THERES MORE thanks to @nightlychaotic for letting me continue her oneshot that can be found HERE! 

Fics Masterlist

Dickinette Oneshot 2.8K words 

Summary:

“Nightwing was desperate to figure out Kit Noire. For reasons beyond professional.” 

without further ado:

Some days, you're the only thing I know

Only thing that's burning when the nights grow cold

Can't look away, can't look away

Beg you to stay, beg you to stay, yeah

It had been two weeks since Nightwing had last seen Kit Noire. While the lack of thefts and reported break-ins was doing wonders for his day job, he found his nightlife severely lacking its usual luster. He had done some research into her powers, cross-referencing with some of his more magically inclined coworkers. Aquaman had an interesting story about some god of destruction but it was Atlantean lore that led nowhere. He was drawing blanks on what his next move was going to be. Conflicted on whether to bring her to justice or to help her get justice. 

His team was of no help either. Batman was adamant on chasing her out of Gotham, her destructive powers too dangerous in the city, while his siblings were more engrossed in teasing him about his affections for the cat thief. Jabs about ‘learned behaviour’ and ‘truly being the next Batman’ went ignored for his own piece of mind. He loathed to admit it but his intrigue in her, his adamance to be involved with her case, stemmed from less professional intentions. He was compromised in this investigation but he was unwilling to relent to anyone else.

Kit Noire was his to solve. 

Sometimes, you're a stranger in my bed

Don't know if you love me or you want me dead

Push me away, push me away

Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay, yeah

He finally found her one night by the Gotham Harbour. She was in the middle of an altercation with the same guy who had stolen some grimoire from her. ‘Guardian’ he had called her. 

Rather than intervene immediately, Nightwing hung back in the shadows, observing the two of them. The man was obviously much older than her and was particularly equipped to combat her style of fighting. He used what appeared to be a wooden staff and was dressed in Buddhist-inspired robes. Another piece to add into his investigation. 

Their fight was approaching a stalemate, neither willing to yield to the other. Nightwing decided to make his presence known. A couple smoke bombs were tossed into the fray, halting the fight. Taking the opening, he jumped in between and threw two bolas at the old man. He was wrapped securely in the wires and collapsed gracelessly on the planks. Not giving him anymore attention, he moved to intercept Kit Noire; choosing the evil he knew over the one he didn’t.

“Sorry, songbird.” She spoke with more bite than usual, her frustration with the older man still clinging to her. “But I already have plans tonight. None that involves you sadly.”

“What?” His casual drawl, partnered with his carefully crafted smirk did nothing to placate the hissing cat in his arms. “I can’t let the kitty have all the fun.”

“Please,” she scoffs; she slackens in his hold only fractionally. “As if I need a little birdy like you to give me permission to do anything.”

She slipped under his grasp and shot a leg up directly into his chin. He was taken completely by surprise and before he could react, one of his own smoke bombs was thrown at his feet. He was disoriented and by the time he switched his mask to infrared, she was already gone with the older man. His discarded bolas were the only thing that remained between the clearing haze of smoke.

Call me in the morning to apologize

Every little lie gives me butterflies

Something in the way you're looking through my eyes

Don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive

He was pulling into the precinct parking lot for his morning shift with a poorly concealed bruise on his jaw and excuses already on his tongue for how it got there. His ego wasn’t fairing much better but that was concerns for his punching bag back at his home gym. Now, he was Dick Grayson, rookie cop at the GCPD. Now, his nighttime problems can’t reach him.

Or so he thought.  

He didn’t make it ten feet into the building before detective Montoya was slamming a file into his chest. He quickly glanced into the file, partially listening to her debriefing of the case, then immediately wished he hadn’t. In the file there were pictures taken from the most recent crime scene and sitting on top of the pile was a picture of a wall from the local aviary. The words ‘Sorry about last night, Songbird -KN’ were spray painted in steel blue. 

He felt his irritation flare as heat crept up his neck while a weight settled in the base of his spine. His warring feelings drowned out everything around him as he fixated on her very obvious declaration. Kitty Noire had been gaining infamy for never being caught by both the cops and the bats. Some in the precinct hadn’t believed she was actually real, just some urban legend the streets were stirring up to cause trouble. To let herself be caught like this, and to admit to contact with one of the bats— it didn’t take a genius to guess which side of the law she was calling out with ‘songbird’— was damning to say the least. 

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

It was another week before he was crashing into her midleap, throwing both of them down onto the nearest roof. They rolled a couple of times before he stopped them by pinning her down. Both of her arms were held above her head; his grips were tight around her wrists, avoiding her palms in fear of what her destructive powers could do. They were on top of the platform that had the doorway to the building’s stairs. Her distracting smirk curled up further as she was about to speak. Probably a suggestive comment but he wasn’t in the mood for their usual back and forth.

“Enough games, Noire.” He shifted his knees to brace on her shins, in case she had any ideas. “You need to tell me what’s going on. You’re bringing suspicious people into the city, dangerous people, and it’s my job to drive them out.”

“I’m not bringing anyone into the city,” she all but spat at him, the fury in her eyes burned bright at the accusation. “He tracked me here.”

“And he is…?” He was getting tired of being out of the loop, meta-abilities and magic are safety hazards if left unchecked in Gotham. He needs to put a lid on this before it spirals any further.

“He is my business and soon to be not a problem for the both of us.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You have no other choice, songbird. Above your paygrade, remember?” She mumbles something he doesn’t hear but from the shape of her lips it looked like Cataclysm. He didn’t have time to react before the roof was caving in under them. 

The freefall was disorienting but he could see from his periphery that Kit Noire was prepared. She had extended her staff out to fit between two walls and was hanging on, dangling over what was probably twenty flights of steps. Nightwing wasn’t so lucky and he had to angle his fall to crash into steps a couple flights below her.  

“It was nice crashing into you, songbird, but I have things to steal and people to rob.” Retracting her staff, she let herself freefall to the bottom floor of the building. Nightwing dove after her, shooting out his grappling line to one of the higher railings. She had reextended her staff, this time aiming for the height of the building, and was sliding down it like a pole. Banishing the improper thoughts of ‘Noire’ and ‘pole,’ he questioned how the staff was even able to extend that far. 

Right, magic.

Once they were more comfortable feet above the bottom floor, she paused in her descent and let him over take her. He wasn’t given a chance to question her actions as she immediately swiped at his grappling line, snapping it with her rather sharp claws. This time he was prepared enough to brace himself for the fall. He landed on his feet and crouched to roll out of the harsh impact.

“I thought it was cats that landed on their feet, not birds,” her jeer echoed against the walls. He looked back up to see her rapidly climbing her staff. She was gaining distance fast and he was running out of options just as quickly. He didn’t trust climbing her staff so he took to climbing the steps from the railings, jumping and swinging himself around to gain altitude.

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.” She had made it to the door that led back to the roof and her staff retracted in an instant. He was still a couple flights away but he knew he wasn’t going to catch her. He resigned himself to knowing that tonight was another failed night. He had let her go again.

Some days, you're the best thing in my life

Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife

Then you turn into somebody I don't know

And you push me away, push me away, yeah

Something Kit Noire had said was bothering him. She said she was a hero once. That she had given it up because of accusations that ruined her reputation. He had half a mind to not believe her. Write it off as one of her tricks to try and get under his skin. But the other half, the louder, more desperate half, implored him to keep searching. To uncover the cat themed enigma he had grown frustratingly fond of. 

He expanded his search, looking for anything or anyone cat themed with destructive powers. A deep web search had him discovering an old video. It was labeled ‘Reflectdoll’ and nothing else. It was a part of some long forgotten blog that had an entire catalogue of videos labeled in similarly vague ways. Desperate for answers, he rationalised that if anything else, he would cross this source and narrow the search further.

The video was quite the fanfare, looking something out of a movie with impressive CGI. He was about to label this video as another bust but something paused him in his tracks. Her. Kit Noire, or at least a younger version of her, lept into the action. Her and some ladybug patterned partner dealt with the fiasco and Nightwing watched, enthralled and hopeful, as the two worked to take down the foe. He was both impressed and even more confused because he recognised that infamous tower but had no memories of there ever being attacks of that caliber in the city of love. He had done several missions there over the years, and there was never any call for help or an attack to get his or the League’s attention.   

Just what was going on? 

Call me in the morning to apologize

Every little lie gives me butterflies

Something in the way you're looking through my eyes

Don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

He had her pinned again, one of his hands holding both of hers above her head, the other was fisting her braid in a tight pin. They were staring at each other, neither wanting to tip the scales in their own favor. The air was charged and each breath felt like one step closer to a dangerous precipice. Nightwing was struggling with what to do. He had a responsibility to this city. This was his home. And he was letting some magical ex-hero trample all over it because he let his infatuation get to his head. He was too involved but he didn’t care. She was his case to solve. 

“Something you would like to share, songbird?” Her smirk was enticing and infuriating. He couldn’t look away. 

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“What? Is keeping me here not entertaining enough for you?”

“I’m not keeping you here for entertainment.”

“That could be rearranged.” She had surged up to kiss him, her lips soft and inviting. He would be a fool to pass up the opportunity.

Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

You're looking at me like you don't know who I am

Blood on my shirt, heart in my hand

Still beating

She was hurt. The old man found her again and left her with a painful reminder of who she was up against. Nightwing wished he could track him down and beat him to bloody pulp but right now he was more concerned with patching her up. She was lucky he found her when he did. The gash on her side would be easy to stitch but he first needed to get her to somewhere safe. His options were limited. No clinic would take them in, she was still a notorious criminal after all. Batman would have his head if he brought her to any of their safe houses. The cave was completely out of the question. 

But she was still losing blood. 

“Why the long face, songbird?” Her voice which was usually jovial was tinted with strain. 

“Oh, you know, just getting blood on my suit while a cat bleeds out in my lap.” He tried to lighten the mood and her chuckles were relieving. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just need to find somewhere to put you.”

“Oh, is the birdy worried about his kitty cat?” She was teasing him, he knew, so he decided playing along would do more for his own peace of mind than trying to refute.

“And if he is?” He mirrored her own joking tone but he couldn’t help the taxes of sincerity that slipped in. She caught on if the slight widening of her eyes were an indicator.

“Oh.” The stunned look she had on her face would be adorable if it weren’t for their situation. “I have a place, not far from here you can drop me off there.”

“Lead the way,” he said, picking her up bridal style. If he pulled her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck then no one had to know.  

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

Nightwing never noticed this before but Kit Noire was small. Her waist fit in the palms of his hands so well and her legs were slender and lean as they tied themselves around his hips. He looked like he could overwhelm her but he knew better. He knew how strong and dangerous she was but the mental image of just holding her down as she submits beneath him spurred him on further. Her lips were cherry sweet and intoxicating. And her weight on his thighs left him reeling, silently begging for more.

“Someone’s eager,” she had pulled away from his mouth to speak but rather than entertain any conversation he just moved to suck bruises into her jaw. The hand she had in his hair tightened and pulled at the short strands. Her breathing became laboured as she pants into the night sky. He wanted to coax out more reactions from her, wanted to see if she can really mewl like a cat. 

A wayward hand had her grinding down harder in his lap. They were in their own bubble on this abandoned rooftop; it sat between two skyscrapers, both casting the roof in an almost impenetrable shadow, one would really have to be looking to see them. The sound of traffic below was nothing more than white noise, a background soundtrack for their current encounter. Using her grip in his hair, Noire dragged him up from her jaw and crashed their lips together again. Her kittenish licks asked for entrance and he eagerly granted it, savouring the taste of her as she mapped out his mouth with her tongue. 

He gripped her tighter, not wanting to let go, blind in the pleasure of her lips and tongue and teeth.

Teeth

Teeth

Teeth

Never, never, never ever let go

[somedaypast-thesunset]

yesterday we did shrooms.

our friend was the ring leader and mixed 9 grams of it in chocolate and we all split it. im usually okay with shrooms and actually sadly took them enough last summer so i felt calm - usually i just have a very mellow empty headed high.

but this was not good and i guess it was ‘better’ that we all experienced not good. like i knew early on it was going the wrong way and suddenly we just wanted it to be over. it was a very intense trip with audio and visual hallucinations but not like full on break from reality - just warping faces and discoloration and hearing talking when there was none. 

he did not handle this well at all. i feel both me and our friend have a lot of mental issues and have struggled a lot so it was a bit easier for us to handle but i think i handled it the absolute best because i didnt feel traumatized by it when they did. i mean it was very terrible. but ive done worse sober with my own mind in terms of anxiety and shit and the hallucinations i knew were drug induced. no matter what i questioned i reminded myself it was the drugs. i had no grasp on reality, it was the drugs and it would eventually be over. i really just kind of sat it out.

he took it a lot dfferently and it sat on him in relation to the world around him. like he had become upset but unable to express why he was upset that essentilly what he was feeling was something i had felt sober. like his anxiety and neediness and wanting someone to help and feeling overwhelmed - that’s kind of me on the regular. but being able to feel it himself and see it from this perspective i feel like he could see how hard it actually is. it wasnt like anyone was physically ill. everyone was fine and operating and breathing but mentally it was a complete breakdown. like they were thankful -to come back-. as if we would have lost our minds forever. but i know it’s hard to lose your mind forever, it takes a lot of damage and if i was able to rationalize despite it all, i knew eventually they’d come back. 

he was also very very anxious about being upset in front of me because thats not really him. and at one point he was crying, upset about i dont even know and mumbling about james randi. i think he had like pre conceived notions that i might react differently to seeing him upset because he tries really hard to create the illusion of manly man, but on like a subconcious level. i think he thought it would be weakness or something but i just kissed him and everything settled a bit for awhile. 

but the mental breakdown was so bad that it took me a really long time to make food. like i was the first one to be able to moderately operate and i guess thats because im used to that sort of mental breakdown state. like it wasnt as if my drugs were weaker - i was definitely totally fucked up and not well. if i was anywhere but a couch with a blanket - dead in the water. but as soon as the worst of the hallucination subsided and i was able to grasp reality for longer than a couple of seconds, i really tried to take control of my mind and body. i wanted it to be over and i could really not operate well and if you would have put a camera on me in this kitchen it would have been frantic pacing and spinning in circles trying to make chicken nuggets and pizza. 

as i was making the food i went downstairs to check on them and he was laying on the floor with our friend but he suddenly started freaking out at me very seriously and telling me he needs mental help. to me, it’s semi-normal for him to do this. sometimes he changes moods very quickly and you cant question the shift or it escalates it. if you can get him to see hes exaggerating his own thoughts with something more light hearted, he lets it go. but to our friend, he had never seen this side of him. he kept whining about needing a movie on tv but he was doing nothing to help himself with a laptop in the room etc. it was a brief but intense 2 minutes of very serious freking out about needing “mental help” and i casually mentioned how hes “disturbing” our friend which helped switch him to the realization that he wasnt actually alone. 

i finished the food and he asked to tae a nap upstairs which was really just restless anxiety but i felt like .. a much different vibe or shift from him. it wasnt embarassment but like maybe a realization that im not “crazy” and being in mental chaos is hard. both of them were extremely thankful about the food and understood on a deep level how hard it was to mke it - but again, no one was physically sick. everyone could operate but mentally they were gone. so its just really hard to imagine how hard it could be to make food unless you experience if yourself and they did and they appreciated it. 

he was very affectionate towards me after, wanting to sit together and hug me and touching me. he asked me a few times if iwas okay and honestly, i was and i am. it was a really easy mental break for me because i knew it was drug induced. i explained it was little sober me curled in a ball inside and just terrified and waiting it out. cuz its not fun to experience that. im surprised i didnt cry but again i knew it was the drugs. maybe im the best person for a bad trip. i took care of myself and two other people. 

my friend made a comment about us being “boyfriend and girlfriend” i repeated what he usually says - he’s not my boyfriend. so he directly asked him - “youre not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore?” and he replied “look we already established i live in my own reality and thats all that matters” 

whch really he was referring to a comment i made the day before about how he kind of just lived in his own reality where he wont “define” us having a relationship but literally everyone else who knows him and i does because we do in fact by definition have a romantic relationship. so he can think we dont but we definitely do. 

hes very very anxious and passive aggressive about my eviction. which is funny to me because i think its a projection of like.. knowing he probably really wants me but this is a bad situation. like its not a healthy relationship standard to now live together because i was evicted. theres no want or desire there; just necessity. so i get it; but he cant say these things. that makes him committed and obligated to the idea of a full scale long term relationship. he cant be alone and be himself with a connection.

i told him i had an opportunity to live in a nearby bussable city. he commented that itd be a long way to walk but it wouldnt matter - hes going away in the summer (by going away he means the idea of living in his truck). it was a double shot - not only would i have less access to him; it wouldnt matter to him because he’s/he’d just leave anyways. 

its a bit upsetting that he would focus on our “non existant” relationship - he drives enough it doesnt seem that big of a deal to live a bit further and i dont have a lot of options at the moment. like this is upsetting for me too but im trying to stay the course. ike its a bump in the road of my recovery; it’s not a step backwards, its a consquence of my actions before and it doesnt define what im doing right now. right now i feel 50 - 70% equipped to handle this. its not going to be fun or easy but itll really be for the best all around. like being in this apartment is not healthy for me.

and i have to live my own life. like i feel at ease with the idea that were not creating a real life together so im kindof moving on and he might have to make effort to keep it going. if he doesnt, well -- sucks, but what more can i do? sorry for not living up to your expectations?

i want to live with him but at the same time, right now, i dont. maybe in a few more months when he figures things out a bit more. not that i have anything figured out but as my mind has cleared, ive begun to have time to think on what i know and believe and want. ive built some confidence in myself that i might know whats best for me. not that i know everything, but i should trust that i know when it best to listen to someone else too. and i should trust when i know that someone elses opinion might not matter. 

so i know i want a life partner. i know i want to create things - maybe grow or cook, something stress free. i know i want to help a community thrive and grow things within local areas. i’m tired of doing what everyone else wantsme to do; it’s exhausting and suffocating and leads to constant mental breaks. i just want to be me and being me involves a partner. 

i dont want to live with his mother. its very suffocating to be around his mother who places her own misguided expectations on you as well. she told me to get a job at mcdonalds - whch is fair, but what happens when i give up? because i know its what i dont want? why stay in terrible situations? why stay n something you dont want? what i want a majority of the time is to lay down and give up. i’d like the incentive not to and mcdonalds is not it. 

but she doesnt understand that. she doesnt get that like this shroom trip, a lot of my daily coping is within life or death. i have to choose life. i have to choose and grasp reality regularly when i’d rather give in to it all. so when you lay that blanket on ‘get a job at mcdonalds’, it’s just not the rght choice. it seems stupid, but its not the right choice. 

this week i will amazingly work four days. im nervous but looking forward to it and looking forward to it solving some of my problems.