I'm nobody's hero...

End call-out culture. If someone is genuinely a danger to society at large, that’s not a call-out. If someone did you dirty, uses a FC you don’t like, or acted shady to a friend of a friend of yours, that’s a call-out. In 2018, let’s move past the era of airing out our dirty laundry and the mob mentality that comes with it. I have seen some genuinely disturbing people on this site. But I’ve also seen people who, through a misunderstanding or one ignorant ( but not actively hateful ) post have had to leave the RPC, abandon their muse, etc, and no amount of apology is ever seen as enough. 

More radical love. Loving yourself and loving others. If someone gives you anxiety, quietly remove them from your dashboard. If you really love seeing someone on your dash, let them know. If you really really love a certain style of writing, whether it’s seen as purple, basic, or “wrong” in someone else’s eyes, allow yourself to enjoy and be proud of what you’ve written. 

No more conflating graphics with quality, but on the flipside, no more shaming people who love to put effort into their graphics. The presence or lack thereof of some ultra-hyped theme, insane graphics, and the most beautiful icons you’ve ever seen should no longer be the reason why or why not you like a blog. 

Friends ≠ Exclusivitiy. This was something that I saw a lot of at different times this year. Someone being called “cliquey” or “elitist” because they had a well-established group of friends who they really loved writing with. Unless they’re being actively exclusionary and responding to you with stuff like “I’m sorry, you’re not Stacy so I don’t like you,” just let it go. Just as you don’t OWE anyone plots you don’t want, etc –– so too do other people have the right to want or not want to write with whomever they please. Unless they’re being actively rude to you, this should be left in 2017 as something to message people about. 

MORE POSITIVITY!!! Seriously, any kind of positivity. Friendly anons, randomly tagging people in stuff, sharing promos with lovely messages in the tags… just be nice to each other. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

No More Hatred of the Writers. Okay, maybe this one is a personal one, but the trend/phenomenon that’s on tumblr of hating the writers of shows, books, media where your muse comes from. If you don’t agree with something, that’s fine, but it’s become some sort of shorthand and accepted understanding that if you’re in the fandom, you have to wholeheartedly disagree with every point the writers make. Isn’t that tiring? 

A sad smile tugged at her lips as he tried to explain. He needn’t have bothered. She’d heard bits and pieces when they’d both gone back to Arkham. She understood. Well, as much as anyone could. She’d never truly know what it was like, to wake up missing years of your life and find everything you knew completely gone. To know you were the reason someone you love had died. But she understood the toll it would take on a person. On their mind.

It never occurred to her to blame him for that, or to ask about his feelings towards her. Much as she hoped, she hadn’t wanted to put that pressure on him. She would simply let things be as he willed. Whether that meant they were together as lovers, friends… or even not at all. Even if it did  kill her on the inside. “Hey, now, be honest. There was at least a little wrong with me.” She insisted, humor sparking faintly in her eyes. It faded instantly as he reached out to trail his fingers along her face. She closed her eyes at the sensation and sighed. It felt good. It felt right. Pale eyes flicked up to him at his admission in surprise. Sure, he’d just shown he still felt something, but she hadn’t dared to jump so far as him loving her. And now, suddenly, here it was. He loved her. Even after all the crazy shit they’d been through… A grin slowly spread across her face, but he’d caught her in a kiss before she could think to return the sentiment. A moment later, his lips had wandered down to her jaw, once more causing her heart to leap.Slipping a hand around the back of his neck, she drew him back to her lips, capturing his in a slow, gentle kiss. “I love you too, y’big goof,” Harley chuckled, her forehead resting lightly against his as she slowly began to trail the fingers of her free hand fondly over his chest. “I always will.”

He laughed at that, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, okay. But nothing that a crazy killer clown could judge you for.” It was the first time he’d ever called himself that, the first time he’d fully claimed what he’d become. Despite its weight as a confession, his eyes remained somewhat amused. “We’re both fucked up, but that’s not what I meant.”

She seemed surprised by his confession and again he wondered how she could be. Honestly, he was surprised it had taken himself this long to see it. There was a time in his past when Harley would have scared the shit out of him. Now though, he’d lived through a darkness only she fully understood, and she’d been the light to guide him through it.

Whatever came later, they could be fucked up together. And they’d figure it out. People hated them, always would. But maybe they didn’t have to hate themselves so much anymore. Maybe they could just be.

She claimed his lips and Jack’s mind finally shut up. For once he just closed his eyes and went with it. Pale fingers ghosted over her hips and found their way under her shirt, looking for a way to her skin. He grinned at her declaration, their faces close together, before arching up to kiss her nose. 

She felt the briefest flash of relief as he sat down again – had he decided to shake her off, offer his excuses and leave, there wouldn’t have been much for him to do. Something about that would have closed a door indefinitely, she felt but could not voice, and it would have stung far more keenly than outright rejection.

There was indeed a selfishness in those stubborn insistences. Mary understood, on some level, that she and Jack didn’t exist on the same level when it came to their pasts; that much could easily have been called an understatement, considering her brief foray into crime compared to his. But—

“I wasn’t… Good,” she said slowly, trying to puzzle out just what it was she was trying to say at the same time as the words left her mouth. “Before.” Still wasn’t now, truth be told, not with that tightly wound curl of hate still burning away inside, inescapable. “I hurt people, all the time, just because I could.” Her hands had dropped into her lap and she looked down at them now, twisting her fingers together.

Wringing them, like some kind of soap opera heroine.

“And I liked doing it. I liked seeing it.” Once more, she couldn’t deny that a part of her still felt the same now. Not good, and sometimes certain that she was just rotten to the very core. Spoiled, somehow. “…You didn’t choose what happened to you. And they don’t get to choose what you deserve because of it.”

Her admission reminded Jack that he really didn’t know all that much about her. Hooking his elbows over his knees, he tugged at his own fingers and stared at them. “Oh.” For a little while, that was all that would come. “...Do you still like it?” he asked finally.

It probably shouldn’t matter one way or the other, but a part of him needed to know.  There weren’t many people he considered anywhere close to friends and Mary was slowly creeping her way up there. On one hand, he felt it was probably important to know if she was someone he needed to be wary of. On the other, he wondered if she might also be going a little bit too hard on herself.

Either way, her staunch insistence that it wasn’t anybody’s right to decide what he deserved brought a surprising but welcome sense of relief. While deep down he knew that one person who’d never been directly affected by him wasn’t in much of a position to absolve him of anything, it was still nice that somebody thought so. 

Just as she was beginning to process things, just as she began to realize that this was, in fact, a thing, he suddenly pulled back with a mumbled apology. Once more, her brows furrowed, but when she tried to look at him, he refused to meet her gaze.Was he.. embarrassed? Ashamed? She wasn’t quite sure. Before she could even begin to respond, he was stepping back, putting more space between them. She did her best to ignore the pang of loss that had settled into her chest. “The way you– I’ve been thinking and I–” The way she what..? What had he been thinking..? A billion questions began to swirl in her head, and she struggled for a moment to find focus. With a quick shake of her head, she looked back to find him falling back onto the bed, his face in his hands as he insisted they could forget it, another apology falling from his lips. Before she had a chance to over-think, she moved to kneel in front of him and reached up to gently pry his hands from his face. “Hey,..hey.. Lookit me.” She insisted softly, a gentle hand coming to rest against his cheek, “Jack, I’m not sayin’ I don’t like it, I was just… surprised.”A small huff of laughter left her lips, “ I mean, fer one, I wasn’t expectin’ ya t’be half naked, and two, I guess I just–..” She paused, gnawing faintly on her lower lip, “I… didn’t think you felt that way about me… ‘specially not after…y’know.” She rolled her finger in a circle by her temple in an attempt to further explain. Giving a small sigh, she let her hand fall and moved to sit beside him on the bed. “Look, you n’ him are worlds apart. I know that. and this–” She gestured between them, “– Prolly not.. what y’ever thought it’d be, Hell, it’s not what I thought it’d be… But the truth is….” God damn it, what was she doing? Makin’ an ass of yerself is whatchyer doin’ she thought bitterly to herself. Still, too late to turn back now… Might as well commit. “The truth is I never stopped  carin’ about you, J. In fact I–… I care about you even more. I don’t want the Joker back. I don’t miss him. The things that I miss… the parts that I liked…Those were all you. When you poked through… that’s when I was happy. So don’t apologize. I don’t want you to.” Shooting him a small smile she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

She pried his hands away and as her hand came to rest against his cheek, Jack felt himself beginning to relax a little. At her huff of laughter, he grinned as well. “Yeah, well, I didn’t plan to be half naked either.”

Her admission unknotted a little more of the tension in his muscles and Jack sighed. He grabbed for her hand to stop the gesture indicating his craziness, or maybe hers, with a laugh. “I wasn’t crazy to care about you! Stop that.” He chuckled. 

Her admission floored him but it was the certainty he’d needed to press onward. Whatever had happened between them, however fucked up things had been in the past, somehow, against all odds, this was right. And he’d be damned if he was letting it get away from them again.

“Look, I-- It was hard at first. And that wasn’t your fault. For fifteen years, I didn’t know who I was. I never had a chance to mourn my wife. When I woke up, it was like Jeannie had just died. And it was still my fault. And with everything else...it was all so much to process... There was never anything wrong with you, Harley. There was just a lot going on with me.”

Jack reached up to trace the contours of her face with one pale hand. “But I thought about it tonight while you were gone. I was freaking out about this going all wrong, like things did in the past. Like things did with Jeannie. And I realized that I was thinking about you the same way. And that I couldn’t let things go that wrong again. Because I do love you. And I don’t want to ever lose something that important again.”

The way he looked at her was startling and so intense that it sent shivers down her spine. It’d taken all she had to look away, to put some space between them. To her surprise, however, space didn’t appear to be what he’d wanted.

In fact, he closed the distance between them again, causing the blush on her features to grow even darker. As a pale hand reached out to set the bags aside, she glanced up at him with a mixture of wonder and confusion. And then he guided hers back to his chest. Eyes wide, she looked at them as if they’d simply moved of their own volition. While not entirely certain of what was going on, or what had gotten into him, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to stop it. His hands found her waist then, drawing her even closer. Heart racing, she glanced up to find him staring at her again, his expression unchanging. Suddenly, soft lips found their way to her throat and she froze, her breath catching at the sensation. Seconds passed like minutes as she tried to remember how to speak, her nails digging lightly into his chest. “Uh, J-…Jack..” she whispered, her voice soft, and slightly wavering. Was her mouth always this dry..? “wh-what’re–” She swallowed hard and tried again, “..what’re y’doin’..?”

He could feel her pulse racing at her throat but she was frozen against him. She hadn’t moved away, hadn’t stopped him. In fact, her nails were digging into his skin in a way that caused his own breathing to catch. Still, she wasn’t responding and as the realization settled in, he began to lose his nerve.

Her stammered question didn’t help matters. Suddenly he froze and began to pull back, a little bit embarrassed. “I-- sorry. I just--” Had he misread her reaction? In Jack’s own mind, he may not be good for much but he was still better than the Joker in every way. But Harley had loved him, been attracted to him. Maybe she saw him and thought of the clown. Maybe as himself he wasn’t dangerous or exciting enough to fulfill whatever had driven her into the criminal’s arms in the first place. Maybe he was boring. Just a friend.

He stepped away.

It didn’t take long to get the things she needed. The gas station on the corner had most of it. After that, it was only a brief walk across the street for the rest, and then straight back to the hotel. Despite the minimal distance however, she’d begun to shiver a little. Jack was right. It was way too damn cold here. Icey fingers fumbled with the keys for a good minute or two before the lock clicked open, and she stepped into the room with a sigh of relief. “Honey ’m home~” she called teasingly. “Even managed t–” the words cut off with a gasp as she turned and stumbled into a very wet, and very nearly naked Jack. “Uh…h-..hi..” she mumbled, slowly taking in the view, her hands lingering over his arms in her attempt to keep from crashing into him altogether. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him like this; After all, she and Joker had been intimate quite often… When they werent trying to kill each other… But this wasn’t Joker. This was Jack. And Jack didn’t feel that way about her anymore. At least… She didn’t think he did. Not that a part of her didn’t hold out hope. “I uhm… I got.. dinner..” Another moment or two passed before she realized she was staring. Still touching him. Immediately, she shook her head and forced herself to step back, a deep blush covering her cheeks as she dropped her gaze to the floor with a nervous chuckle. “Ehm… sorry..”

Harley all but crashed into him and Jack put up his hands to steady her. She seemed to freeze. Both of them did. His eyes stayed locked on hers, his breathing shallow, just waiting to see what she would do and surprised by the sudden electricity between them.

Finally she broke the silence, calling his attention to the bags in her hands. Or trying to. Jack’s eyes flicked to where she’d indicated but soon locked back on hers. Her hands were still on his arms. She was still almost touching his bare chest. He swallowed thickly but found he couldn’t look away.

Next thing he knew, she was moving quickly away, the blush heavy on her cheeks, and she seemed unable to look at him. All the same, her nervous chuckle told him more than maybe she had wanted it to. All of a sudden he had a pretty good idea that he wasn’t alone in the way he felt.

Stepping forward, he closed the distance between them again and took the bags from her, setting them aside. “Don’t say sorry,” he told her with a curious solemnity. He wasn’t sure what he wanted exactly but something was pushing him to figure it out.