#it’s really annoying and I’m tired of the same misunderstandings and miscommunication when i’m trying my best to be clear and open

[champagne--father]

u g h

[hollyhomburg]

I'm fairly confused about this entire situation, honestly. I saw the original girl comment about whether or not she was entirely sure to feel comfortable on a page meant to do that exact thing. In my opinion (which is fairly confused atm), you were both in the wrong. Of course, you don't have to answer anything about your gender or whether or not you have certain body parts, I can definitely understand that! But the extra meanness was a bit uncalled for. They just didn't want to feel unsafe :/

Also, everyone deals with pain differently. Whether or not if it's something that seems a bit pushy or not. I feel for both sides of this weird miscommunication, I really do. I guess that's just my inner-understanding lol. So yeah, I feel for you! I know what it feels like to go through things that annoy you and cause disruption amongst your inner self, but my heart also goes out to the girl that was painted as a transphobe when all she wanted to do was feel was safe.

P.S, this was absolutely not coming from a place of anger! It is your choice whether to insult me or realize that people have different opinions; I will understand if either one is chosen! I wish you well, and if the girl is also reading this, I wish you well too and I really do hope that you get closure and understanding because I've also gone through something similar to what you have. It's so painful, but stay strong and you'll be able to say that you came out of it alive :)

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First off, I want you to know that the anger in the response is not directed at you the asker of this question. but at the person from last night. second, I’m probably not going to respond to any more asks on this topic, because I'm tired. 

okay so let me put it this way for you. you would not under any circumstances pull down Anyone's pants to check their genitals in public. right? or demand that they pull down their pants for you and expose themselves in a public way just so that you can make sure they don’t have a penis. 

The fact of the matter is that someone else's genitals are none of yours nor anyone else's business. And asking about this is not only violating and transphobic but also inappropriate. (I shouldn’t have to clarify that this is transphobic at this point. before you want to argue that- do your research, google is free).

what you seem to misunderstand is that transphobia is an act of aggression. to be transphobic is to cause trauma, to trigger, to be violent. this person asking me about my genitals was an act of violence. and I responded like it was one- with meanness that was called for because I felt hurt. because what they said was hurtful. 

as someone who has never felt safe in my entire life, both because of abuse, rape, and my identity- that doesn't give me a right to threaten someone elces safety because my safety demands it. each and all traumas are valid, and just because they wanted to feel safe on my page doesn't give them a right to take away my safety. especially because this is my page and my safe space that I have created with hours of uncompensated work. So no- they don't have a right to take away my safety and security for their own.  

asking on anon is also a little sus, they didn’t reach out through dm- which is how all things of a personal nature should be. they knew there was a possibility I would take it wrong and didn’t want to be blocked from my page. they feel entitled to my work and entitled to my body in the same way. i wont apologize for trying to preserve this page, and I won’t apologize for acting for matching their level of meanness. 

when you have trauma there are so many things that are triggering for other people that aren’t triggering for you. The real world doesn't come with specific trigger warnings and you have to eventually come to that conclusion with trauma, you will be triggered for no reason at one point, and its a sad fact but it will happen. 

for example- one of my triggers is piano music. to this day I can’t watch my favorite idol play piano because it is too much of a trigger to me. 

But I would NEVER insinuate that min yoongi needed to stop playing piano music just because at one point in my life my stalker would blast piano music outside my bedroom window at 3 am to keep me from sleeping for weeks at a time. or because I was constantly sleep deprived growing up because he wouldn’t let me sleep- my triggers and my reality are irrelevant to min yoongi enjoying the thing he enjoys, just like that person’s trauma is irrelevant to my own. It would be mean and uncalled for me to demand he stops doing something he loves just because it's a trigger for me. People will exist outside of your trauma and that's okay.  

(tw; rape) I’ve been rapped by three men in my life. One was a frat boy in college who I woke up to telling me my hole was bleeding and wanted me to leave because I was getting it all over his sheets. another was a old man, it happened when I was so little that I barely remember it and honestly, all I remember is how much it hurt and how dirty his hands were, he had a lot of dirt under his nails and I remember thinking ‘i don't think that should go inside me’ as a fucking 5-year-old

And the third, was three years ago when an American gi rapped me in hongdae, South Korea, I met him at a bar called mikes cabin. I wasn’t a perfect victim, i’d just had a fight with my soulmate and I went out looking for trouble and I found it. but after I changed my mind he didn’t care, he shoved his dick in my ass without my consent. I bled all over his sheets too. choked on the blood coming out my nose after he slapped me. i remember he shoved his phone in my face to take pictures. somewhere out there there are pictures of me getting raped and I don’t even know where they are or how many people have seen them. 

I don't even know his name only that he had a rose tattoo over his heart. my deadnames middle name is rose. My mom calls me ‘rosebud’ or ‘rosie’ more than my dead name. is it a trigger for me? yes. it is. of course, it is. how could it not be?  

I’ve been raped. i know what they’ve gone through, I know where their pain comes from but my pain is valid too. my genitals could be a trigger to that anon, but defining them in a binary of woman and man is a trigger for me. I am a person and they are a person and both of our triggers are equally valid. but this is my place. this is my expression. 

so why did I act meanly? first off. they violated me by asking me invasive questions and demanded a response. and then secondly; when I asked them not to and told them no- they invalidated my consent and my trauma. then thirdly- they misgendered me- fully committing to being a transphobe. that's why I was mean- because they were mean first.  

this is the only time I’ll explain why I was justified. I hope they get closure too- but their closure isn’t going to come from violence against me or any other trans person. one day that person is probably going to meet a trans woman, and I hope they know better than to call them a boy just because they have a penis. trans people aren’t your punching bags for your trauma. 

trauma doesn't give you the excuse to be a transphobe, no matter what happened to you. you have to learn to treat others with dignity and respect no matter their gender identity or how they trigger you. Because people can’t control what parts of themselves are triggering to you. 

This is the last I’ll talk about this. I'm gonna delete all the other asks asking me about this. I’m not going to talk about it anymore. if you can’t understand why what they did was bad, get off my page. I don’t want you here. 

[corie-the-writer]

Tell Me You Love Me

“Don't walk away from me."  Bucky pleaded with you as you pushed yourself out of his hold and made a break for the bedroom door. 

"I can't do this anymore Buck." You admitted lowly, unshed tears building in your eyes at you looked back at the possessive man you loved, "I can't keep fighting with you about my feelings for you. I'm exhausted, I can't..." You shook your head and felt a few tears fall when you felt his cool metal hand wrap around your wrist. 

"Please..." His voice was softer than it was nearly ten minutes ago when he had been shouting about the man from the club talking to you, and you supposedly flirting back with him, "Don't walk away." 

"Bucky...I need time." You couldn't dare look over your shoulder to see his face, knowing that if you looked for just a second you would back out from your words. You just couldn't continue to deal with the fighting, it was draining you, mentally and emotionally. You just needed some time to yourself, but that didn't mean you didn't love him any less. Taking a deep breath you opened the bedroom door and pulled your wrist out of his hold and walked out the door. Knowing that things needed to change before you two could go back to how things were. 

The first night you had left your boyfriend, you had cried yourself to sleep. Knowing that this wouldn't have happened if HYDRA wouldn't have screwed with Bucky's head.  It had happened nearly eight months ago when a mission ended up having Bucky held hostage for a week by the agents, which in return brought out the Winter Soldier. Once he had came back as Bucky, the man you loved, he became more jealous and more possessive. He would question your friendship with Sam and Clint. If you guys were out in public, eating dinner and would just look at another man, he would instantly let his insecurities show. By the time the month ended, you were angry that Bucky hadn't bothered trying to talk to you, because he wanted to so badly that first night.  By the time the second month had come rolling around, you had heard Bucky talk to Steve about a woman he had met and was helping him. Your heart instantly broke, realizing that he had given up and moved on. 

You had been in the tower, hiding out in Natasha's room to avoid the man who held your heart, knowing you didn't hold his anymore. You were a mess. You missed Bucky, and his insecurities. 

"You really need to talk to him." Natasha stated simply and you couldn't help but to frown at your friend. 

"I can't Nat." You admitted, "I just..." You shook your head, knowing that if you spoke about how much you missed him that you would turn into a blubbering mess. 

Natasha couldn't help but to roll her eyes as she gave you a small sympathetic look for a moment before disappearing out of her room. Nat was getting tired of the huge misunderstanding that was going on around her. You wouldn't speak to Bucky because he had thought he moved on when he in fact was just as a big of mess as you. The red-head decided to take matters into her own hands, knowing that she needed to light a fire under one of you to make the first move, so she went in search of the man who could annoy Bucky with just one look. Sam. 

"I need to speak with you, privately." Natasha spoke quietly to Sam causing him to furrow his eyes but gave a nod and followed the assassian into an empty room.

"What's going on?" Sam questioned.  

"I'm tired of seeing Y/N and Bucky mope around here. Y/N thinks Bucky is seeing someone else, and neither of them will talk to each other." Natasha explained, "That's why I decided to take matters into my own hands because if Bucky breaks something else around here, I'm going to personally break his arm." 

"What's your plan?" Sam questioned, knowing that his friend Y/N was hurting and he felt bad for her.

"I want you to ask Y/N out to dinner or something to get her out of my room." Natasha stated, "I'll just happen to let it slip around Bucky that you had taken her on a date." Natasha added as Sam's eyes bugged out of his head. 

"You know that he'll kill me, right?" Sam questioned.  

"It's the only thing I can think of that will get Bucky to talk to her because I know damn well she's not going to speak to him first. Let's face it, you're the only one who gets under his skin so easily, and if he thinks you're out on a date with Y/N then he's going to make things right." Natasha said matter of factly. 

Sam huffed knowing that Natasha had a point, "Things I do for that girl." Sam scoffed and then gave a nod to her idea, "If I die though..." 

"Y/N won't let him kill you, you have that going for you." Natasha chuckled as she pushed Sam out of the empty room, "Now go get her out of this place."

. . . . .

Bucky had felt like he was slowly dying inside, and he officially hated the word time. It was if time had stopped the moment you walked out the door to a bedroom you both shared together. He knew that he was in a dark place once he had came back from being held captive by HYDRA, but he didn't want to admit it out loud. The agents had used you against him, telling him how you deserved better than someone who would kill without a second thought, because he was a monster. Bucky had let their words get into his head more than he had liked to admit and started seeing things that weren't there. He would watch as you gave a polite smile to a man on the street, but didn't see you giving a female the same gesture. He would watch as you had hushed conversations with Sam in the tower, both of you laughing at something either of you had said. He had assumed the agents were right, you deserved better. That sent his relationship with you in a black hole of miscommunication and accusations thrown from him. Bucky knew that you had tried telling him a thousand times how much you loved him, how he was the only man you wanted, but he just couldn't let the words sink into his thick skull. 

The moment you had walked out of the bedroom, he knew that he needed to talk to someone, an outsider, before he could talk to you about what HYDRA had put into his head. He needed for it to make sense in his own mind before he could get you to understand it, so he found a therapist with the help of Bruce Banner. Her name was Gloria and she was the sweetest old woman he had ever met. She reminded him a lot of his mother, which made it easy for him to open up to about what had happened, and how he was feeling about his relationship spiraling out of control. 

"Has anyone seen Sam?" Steve questioned causing Bucky to look up from the book he was reading in the large den, "We were suppose to train together, but I can't find him." Steve added.  

"Oh, uh..." Natasha spoke up as Bucky's eyes went back to the book he was reading, "He took Y/N out on a date." 

Bucky's head snapped up with a glare instantly forming on his face. His stomach instantly felt like it was on a roller coaster and his heart began to tighten in his chest. 

"He what?!" Bucky snapped, slamming his book shut, launching it across the room as he jumped from his seat, "Where did he take her?" Bucky growled, missing the smirk on Natasha's face. 

"That Italian place Y/N loves." Natasha spoke cooly as she moved to sit on the couch. 

Bucky didn't stop to listen to Steve try to stop him, instead he stormed out of the tower, having every intention of beating Sam to a bloody pulp, and then shouting at Y/N for moving on so easily. 

It didn't take him long to enter the restaurant, not bothering to stop to speak to the hostess who was trying to stop him. His blue eyes scanned the tables and found Sam and Y/N in the corner at a booth. Without thinking twice, Bucky stormed over to the table, his hands slamming on the table to pull them out of their conversation. Y/N and Sam both jumped at the sound, and a few other customers glanced their direction. 

"How could you?!" Bucky growled lowly causing Y/N to furrow her eyebrows, "How could you move on so easily, huh? After everything we have been through!" Bucky hissed and Y/N mouth dropped. 

"Wh-what?" Y/N stuttered, "What are you talking about? I'm not the one who has moved on so easily." Y/N mumbled and then glanced to Sam, "Can we please leave, I'm not hungry anymore." You spoke lowly, her eyes casted downward. Sam gave a nod, knowing that he was suppose to let them talk, but he could tell that Y/N was about to bust in tears and felt bad for his friend. Sam threw money down on the table for their untouched meals, and moved to get out of the booth with Y/N doing the same, avoiding Bucky's intense glare. 

Y/N moved passed him and he instantly reached out to grab ahold of her arm, not wanting her to walk away from the conversation he needed to have with her. She shot him a look and Bucky didn't bother saying anything as he pulled her out of the restaurant with Sam following. Bucky gently dragged her to the alley next to the building and then turned to Sam. 

"Stay away from what is mine." Bucky growled and Sam held his hands up in defense and glanced to Y/N, "She will be fine." Bucky snapped, "Now leave." Bucky added turning his attention back to Y/N.

As soon as Sam walked out of the alley, Y/N slapped Bucky across the face, "What the hell is your problem!?" Y/N shouted, "You can't just come storming into a restaurant I'm having dinner at with a friend when you have a girlfriend!" Y/N shouted. 

"With a friend!?" Bucky scoffed, "Nat told me you to were on a date!" Bucky rubbed his jaw from where Y/N slapped him and realized that she had said he had a girlfriend, "Wait, a girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend." Bucky's voice lowered slightly, "What in the hell made you think I have a girlfriend?" Bucky questioned and his eyes were glued to Y/N's and noticed the unshed tears building in her eyes.  

"I uh...it doesn't matter. You've clearly moved on, so this is pointless." 

"I haven't moved on from shit doll, I'm miserable without you, so I'd like to know why you think I have a girlfriend." Bucky moved closer to Y/N, "Stop shutting me out and just talk to me..." Bucky requested and Y/N let out a sigh. 

"I heard you talking to Steve about a woman you met. How she's been helping you..." Y/N mumbled, blinking her unshed tears away, and Bucky frowned trying to figure out what she was talking about and then it dawned on him. His therapist. "Gloria?" Bucky questioned out loud mostly to himself and watched as Y/N sucked in her bottom lip, "Oh God, no." Bucky let out a small laugh, "Baby, Gloria is my therapist." Bucky couldn't help but to laugh at the misunderstanding.  

"Well I'm glad you have a girlfriend that's a therapist." Y/N mumbled and went to move past him but he shot his arm out and wrapped it around her waist and then pushed her against the wall. Bucky pressed his body against her, his human hand cupping her cheek. 

"No, you don't understand. Gloria is a friend of Bruce's, she's old enough to be my mother..." Bucky explained, "I'm not dating my therapist, the only person I'm interested in is you." Bucky added and noticed Y/N locked eyes with him, "I was in a dark place when I came back, they got into my head about how you deserve better." Bucky began to explain, "I just...I started seeing stuff that wasn't there, and I took my insecurities out on you instead of being honest and open with you." Bucky explained, "I've been trying to figure out how to talk to you about all of this but I didn't think you were over your time away from me." Bucky explained quietly as he rested his forehead against yours. 

"I've been over it since the day I walked out." You admitted lowly, "I just..." 

"Baby, it's okay, I know why you left." Bucky stated, "I want to fix things between us. I've been miserable without you doll." 

You gave a nod in agreement, "I've been miserable too. I just...we have a lot to talk about and you need to be honest with me about what your feeling and thinking. We can't move forward if we can't be honest." You explained and Bucky gave a nod. 

"Were you here on a date with Sam?" Bucky questioned, his fingers curling slightly at the thought of you on a date with another man. 

"No. He wanted me to get out of the tower because I've been moping around. I think Natasha was behind it all." You explained and felt Bucky crash his lips to yours in a heated kiss. Your head began to swim as his tongue collided with yours for a moment before he pulled away leaving you breathless. 

"Tell me you love me." Bucky whispered quietly as your fingers brushed some of his back. 

"I love you..." 

"I love you so damn much doll." Bucky kissed your forehead, "Remind me to thank Nat for getting my head out of my ass." Bucky added causing you to chuckle, "Let's get you home, we got a lot of making up to do." 

"Lead the way soldier."

[onehaleofanadventure]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics) Relationship: Tim Drake/Jason Todd

Summary: 

Oh, what problems is causes when your boyfriend find someone else's lace in your bed.

Tim had no reason to be so nervous. It was just Jason. Every Tuesday night he stops by Tim’s apartment for a while. Tim is certain it’s not a date-date, it’s just free food and conversation with someone intelligent. The only problem is that Tim has had this embarrassing crush on Jason pretty much forever, he refuses to let himself project his stupid unrequited feelings onto Jason. If Jason was interested, he would have done something years ago.  

All the being said, something feels weird about tonight though. Jason isn’t coming straight from work, he had the night off. If feels different, more special, like he really wants something with Tim, but that is most definitely Tim projecting.  

That doesn’t change the fact that he had spent all morning obsessively cleaning the mess he and Steph had made this weekend. Well, mostly Steph, the girl was a hot mess on a good day, and so much worse when drunk. Also, she had the very uncomfortable habit of climbing into bed with Tim to cuddle in the middle of the night.  

Speak of the devil, “Hey, boyfriend.” Steph greeted, both too loud and cheerful for Tim‘s current inner turmoil.  

Tim just sighed, long since having given up on trying to get her to stop calling him that, despite how awkward it was since they’d broken up so long ago. “I love you. You know this. But I have plans that I will not be canceling for any reason other than life-threatening emergency.”

Steph giggled, “I know. Netflix and chill with the boyfriend!”

“Steph,” Tim groaned.  

“I know, I know. He’s not your boyfriend, and, Netflix and chill is sex and we do not have sex, which is a huge mistake on your part. A man that strong, that big,” she hummed suggestively, “I bet the sex would be fantastic.”

Tim spluttered, blushing fiercely as Steph cackled in his ear. “Anyway, I’m not calling for plans. I’m calling because I left my favorite, lucky eggplant bra and panties there. So I’ll be by tomorrow to grab, or more likely find—knowing your cleaning habits—them.”

“Hey!” Tim squawked indignantly. “I’ve cleaned, and I—“

“In that case, I’m sure you’ve found them, so no wearing them! I know how you like the feeling of the lace against you skin.”

Tim spluttered again, flushing even brighter and hiding his face despite Stephanie not being here to see him. He tried to say something, but decided it would be better to just hang up on his still cackling best friend.  

Jason was due to arrive in less than an hour—it’s not that they have a specific meeting time, they just tend to meet at almost the same time every week—and he still has so much to do.  

Jason, timely as always, arrives at exactly a quarter past eleven wearing a dopey grin and exclaiming, “Timmy, I brought sustenance!” while gently shaking a brown paper bag, with the logo of a Japanese restaurant down the street, in his face—it’s one of Tim’s favorite restaurants, which he told Jason once a long time ago.  

Tim blushes at the insinuation that Jason remembers such insignificant details about him, taking the bag and heading towards the kitchen. He hears Jason chuckle as the front door closes and locks, Jason’s surprisingly quiet, now bootless, footsteps padding after him, the lack of noise also implying the removal of his signature leather jacket.  

“So,” Jason starts, causing irrational anxiety to bubble in Tim’s stomach, “don’t know if you’ve been outside recently, but it’s fucking cold. I think my hands are going to fall off.”

Tim mindlessly “tsks” at the curse, immediately yelping—and nearly dropping the plates he was pulling out for the food—as said cold hands find their way under his sweater and blushing as the rest of Jason presses right up against his back. He sets the plates down, intent on pushing Jason’s now wandering hands away, but find himself too distracted to anything more than shiver as Jason whispers, warm and rough, into his ear. “Don’t worry about plates, Babybird. Just grab silverware and come cuddle me warm.”

Tim starts to stutter out a response, but as Jason’s big hands slide off his tight—and now cold—stomach he decides he’d rather just listen: cuddling seems like the perfect idea.

Tim grabs the food, a fork for him, and an extra for Jason, though he knows Jason will use the chopsticks from the restaurant. He turns, heading back to his living room and stops short, gaping at Jason, who was bent over at the waist, digging through the closet that usually held all his spare blankets.  

Usually being the key word. He’d thrown all the ones from his bed in the wash this morning, and taken the extras out of the closet to sleep with tonight.  

“Hey Timbers,” Jason calls, turning and forcing Tim to snaps his eyes to Jason’s face rather than continuing his trek down the hard lines of his thick-muscled thighs. Jason smiles indulgently, though Tim misses the look, trying to appear as if he’s meeting Jason’s eyes without actually doing so. “So, where are all the blankets?”

“O-Oh,” Tim stuttered, silently cursing his nerves and finally putting the food down to hide the bright red splotches no doubt obvious on his pale skin. “I, um, I’m washing them. Steph kind of made a huge mess of the ones that were on my bed.”

Tim, still fiddling with the food now on his coffee table, misses the slight flinch and the way Jason’s smile turns forced at the mention of Steph in his bed. However, he looks up at the slight edge now in Jason’s voice. “So,” Jason hums, clearing his throat, though the usual warmth doesn’t fully return, “proper cuddles need blankets, and I’m still freezing.”

“Right, ummm…. We could go to my room?”  

Jason narrows his eyes, tone suspicious when he asks “You sure that’s okay?”

Tim doesn’t really understand his caution, but confidently blurts out, “Yeah! I mean, yes. As long as we don’t spill anything it’ll be fine. And I have Netflix in there, too, so it’s all good.” The idea of Jason in his bed, no matter how innocent, is too exciting and tempting an option to refuse, despite the weird look Jason has.  

“Whatever you say, Timbers.” Jason’s tone is still off, but he’s picking up the food and gesturing, “lead the way.”

Tim shrugs, leading them down the hallway that opens to the master bedroom. This isn’t the first time Jason has acted weird around him—in fact, the entire first year of their friendship was them awkwardly getting over misunderstanding that caused them to dislike each other—so, maybe he just had a weird day.  

They even been watching all the occult and sci-fi movies that they could find. They finished the Underworld series in them for the new movie and Tim dragged Jason out to see it. They only have two more Resident Evil movies to go, and then Tim will have to convince Jason to go see that in theaters, too.  

He let’s Jason settle the food on the nightstands and rearrange the blankets while he sets up Netflix and finds the appropriate movie. The settle in the bed, their food in their laps as Tim leans slightly against Jason; by the time they finish their food, the tension is gone, replaced with Jason’s sarcastic comments about weapons and Tim’s snide comments about movie science.

Nearing the end of the their first movie of the night, Tim is practically in Jason’s lap, with one hand braced on those spectacular thighs and the other rest against his overstuffed stomach. Jason sits with one leg bent at the knee and the other outstretched, one arm behind his head in the headboard and the other rubbing hypnotic circles into the sweater over Tim’s hip.  

Tim wiggles a little, turning his head to look at Jason. He wasn’t expecting Jason’s piercing teal eyes to already be looking at him, the intensity and proximity leave him breathless. Tim ducks his eyes, feeling fidgety under Jason’s gaze, but he gets caught on Jason’s plump, soft looking lips. He really can’t help himself, and licks his lips and can’t help but imagine how warm those lips would feel on his.  

Tim can’t really think past his desire and the desire he can see clearly coming off Jason. He spins around, so he’s kneeling between Jason’s legs, and reaches out slide his hand along the rough stumbled sprouting from Jason’s jaw.  

Suddenly, Jason lurches forward, pressing surprisingly soft lips against Tim’s. They shift and tug at shirts and bedding, only breaking when Tim needs to breathe. Jason flips them, so Tim arched underneath Jason and the mouth locked onto his throat. Just as suddenly, Jason is pulling away with a careful blank looks that is at odds with the attractive flush on his lightly tanned cheeks.  

Tim makes a protesting noise and pushes back towards Jason’s mouth, only to freeze as Jason lifts up a suspicious purple lingerie set, bra clinging to the lacy panties in a way that is sure to annoy Steph.  

Tim pulled them off Jason’s hand and tossed them off to the side, smiling sweetly as he once again tried to return to kissing. This time, however, Jason pushed himself up into a sitting position. Tim made a question noise and tried to meet the gaze hovering studiously to the left if his face. “It’s, uhh, it’s getting late, Tim. I think I should get going.”

“But, Jay… It’s not that… We haven’t even finished the last movie.” The confusion was evident in his tone, he just didn’t know how to voice the question he really wanted to ask. It’s not that late, why are you leaving? and what did I do wrong? or maybe just everything was good, what just happened?

“I know. And I’m sorry, Tim. It’s just, uhh, I’m really tired. It’s just been kind of a long, and disappointing day, is all.” Jason sighed, “ we can totally finish this up another time.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Tim scrambled off the bed, following Jason as he all but marched to the front door. He yanked his boots on and didn’t even finish putting his jacket on before he opened the front door. The blast of cold air jolted Tim out of his temporary stupor, “So, umm, I’ll see you next week? Hope you feel better?” Tim was still so confused about what was happening here, and Jason leaving kind of felt like rejection—like maybe Tim shouldn’t have kissed him—which makes no sense because Jason kissed him.  

It’s been almost three weeks since Jason left, and he hasn’t been back. He sends exactly one text every Tuesday morning with a less believable excuse for why he can’t show up this week. Tim would be worried, anxious to check on him, except Dick frequents the coffee shop Jay writes at when he has time or is feeling inspired; and apparently he’s been there often. Maybe his excuses are true, but Tim can’t help but feel as if Jason is purposely avoiding him.  

Which explains how he let Steph talk him into getting sloppy drunk and telling her all about it—“and then we made out. For a—hic—while. I mean it was like ten min—hic—utes, thats a while, right?”

Steph, curse her, wasn’t drinking, well not drinking to get drunk, citing an important interview tomorrow. “Yeah, Timmy, that’s a while. So he just left?”

“Y-yeah.” Tim sniffled.  

Steph hummed, “I mean, I know I’ve barely ever met the guy, but he doesn’t really seem like the type to ditch. Especially since he is clearly interested.”  

“He’s not—“

“I mean, he kissed you, he’s totally interested. You don’t just kiss people you aren’t at least a little interested in. So it just seems weird that he’d just leave and not come back.”

“But-hic-but that’s exactly what happ—ppened!” Tim whined, pretending he doesn’t sound as pathetic as he feels.  

“Exactly?” Steph hummed. “So you were making out and then he just got up and left. No arguing or anything. I know you’re not the best as social cues—you make up for it with how cute you are when you’re flustered—but are you sure you didn’t miss anything?”

“No. Kissing. He found your purple thong. Said he was tired. Left.” Tim garbled out, most of the words unintelligible from the shots he was downing.  

“And you didn’t think to explain to your boyfriend why there was a thong in your bed?” Steph shrieks.  

“No?” Tim pouts, completely lost. Jason knows Steph, well, he knows about her. He was around for their entire relationship and knows that Tim still loves her even though he’s no longer in love with her.  

“You idiot.” Steph sighs, slumping onto the table and muttering to herself. “Okay, here’s what is going to happen. You are going to go sleep off the alcohol, then you’re going to call your brother and get his help to find Jason. Then, you’re going to talk to Jason, and explain to him that we are not now or ever going to date again.”

The hangover is mostly gone by the time Dick calls back and says that Jason is at the coffee shop. He still feels like retching after running down the street to get there. For some reason, he’s nervous—which makes no sense, it’s Jason. And probably going to be a good moment for their relationship.  

Tim pauses outside the door, quietly following an elderly couple through the glass door, and silently cursing the jingly bell overhead that announces someone’s entrance. He sees Dick in the corner and makes his way over when he starts waving.

“Hey, Dick. Where’s Jay?” He feels a little bad about the lack of interest in his brother, but they all know that Tim is in this hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, on the other side of Gotham, because he wants to see Jason.  

Dick points off to the corner, where Tim can see a head of dark, slightly curly, hair with a strange white streak. Now that he’s looking, he can also see the minute twitching in his shoulders that signifies rapid typing.  

He takes a deep, steadying breath, says “Thanks, Dick” and marches off towards Jason.  

“Jay? Umm, are you busy? Can I…umm…talk to you for a few minutes.” He resolutely ignores Jason’s tiny twitch and keeps looking at him.  

Jason turns towards him, “Tim…” his tone is almost warning, “look, I don’t think is a good—“

Tim made a promise to Steph. He’s going to stick it out. And maybe Steph is right. Maybe it’ll all work out for him.  

“Steph said—I mean, it had come to my attention that I need to explain some things.”

“You don’t need to explain. I’m pretty sure I figured everything out.” The rapid flash of hurt across his face made Tim’s heart ache and a hot ball of guilt form in his chest. “I get it, you know. Blondie, she’s—she’s pretty amazing. Gorgeous. Smart. Been your best friend for a long time. I’m fine with being someone’s experimentation—I happily support experimentation—but I’m not okay with being someone’s dirty little secret.”

“You’re not—“

“You should’ve told me. And you definitely shouldn’t have let me kiss you. I think it’s best if we stay away from each other for a while. I don’t want—“

“We aren’t dating!” Tim can feel his cheeks flaring. But he had to get Jason to stop talking. “I mean… Steph and I. We aren’t dating. We broke up, like a year ago, remember? Right. Ummm, so it was actually dating Steph that made me realize I was more into men. Not that Steph isn’t amazing! And beautiful. But… umm. I was—am more interested in you, actually.” Tim was simultaneously hoping Jason did and didn’t understand the mumbles of his last sentence.  

“Oh, umm.” Watching Jason stutter and flush softly was well worth the embarrassment of this conversation in such a public place. “I guess I shouldn’t have—I’m pretty interested in you, too.” The usual, smugly smirk was more than comforting after so long. “I’d even—“

Tim still doesn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he flung himself forward, clumsily pressing lips and tongue and teeth against Jason, silencing whatever he was about to say.

Tim pulled back, only somewhat embarrassed about being in Jason’s lap, and not at all willing to move. He smiled up shyly, peppering kisses across Jason’s face and lips. “I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”  

Jason’s warm laugh and soft, crooked smile was, hands-down, the best part of Tim’s month.