#Not trying to excuse her actions because it is clear. part of Roy’s behavior is how snobful and neglectful his parents are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eskalations · 4 years

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Could a retired sniper even become a loving mother after all she had seen and done?

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(Day 3 "Old Wounds" - Royai Week 2020)

A/N: Here's my entry for Day 3 of Royai Week for the prompt "Old Wounds". I didn't really know where this was all going until it suddenly became a comprehensive retelling of everything that happened post-canon. I know the fandom likes to headcanon that Roy and Riza have a little boy named Maes, but I really wanted to give them a child who had her own name and identity. Plus, Roy Mustang with a little girl is an absolute weakness of mine.

I also have him calling her Lizzie because I’m a sucker for Pride and Prejudice and can just imagine how sweetly he would say it (much like Darcy says ‘dearest, loveliest Elizabeth) *swoon*

I hope you enjoy!

"Mommy?"

Riza was awoken from her slumber by a small voice and a tugging hand. She blinked her eyes several times, trying to regain her bearings in the near darkness of the room. Glancing at the window over the form of her sleeping husband, she noticed that the moon was still high in the sky.

'It couldn't be more than midnight,' she thought to herself, rubbing a weary hand over her eyes in an attempt to clear her vision.

"Mommy?" It was then that she remembered the reason for her sudden wakefulness. The tiny voice that she knew and loved so well was trembling with an escalating fear, the tugging hand at the back of her nightgown pulling a bit more roughly than before. Sensing the desperation in her plea, Riza turned around to face the small child.

"Elizabeth?" She asked, her voice coarse with sleep. A pair of dark, swollen eyes peered up at her from over the edge of the bed. "What are you doing up?"

"Nightmare."

Riza could tell that her daughter's sleep had been less peaceful than normal, just by the way her wild, dark hair was pulling out of her braid – evidence of the tossing and turning she had done before running to her parent's room. In the dim light of the moon, she could also see the fresh tear marks that marred her daughter's cheeks. The sight broke Riza's heart.

"Come here," Her mother quietly beckoned, reaching her arms out towards the three-year-old. Elizabeth stood on her tip toes as warm hands were placed under her arms. Once the young girl was settled between both her parents, Riza wrapped her up in a warm embrace and nuzzled her face into her shoulder.

Elizabeth was not the type of child to seek out her parents' comfort in the middle of the night, so this type of behavior was incredibly unusual for her. Whatever she had dreamt about must have really frightened her to have her traversing the dark halls of their home in the middle of the night.

"Lizzie?"

Riza cringed at the sound of her husband's sleepy voice, knowing that he needed to be up early in the morning for a meeting with his generals. But a tiny pair of cold feet had made their way to the exposed expanse of his back, waking him from his deep slumber and alerting him to his sweet daughter's presence.

The woman watched as her husband turned over – eyes heavy with sleep but concern evident in their dark depths. At the sound of her father's voice, Elizabeth buried her face even deeper into her mother's neck, fighting back the tears that forced themselves forward at his gentle tone. Riza glanced over their daughter's head, meeting his questioning gaze with a concerned one of her own.

If you had told them ten years ago that they would be sequestered together in a lovely home, married, and snuggled up with their daughter – they would have laughed at the sheer idea of it. Two killers, as horrible as them, could never repent enough to ever deserve the happiness that most human beings sought. It just wouldn't be fair after how many lives they had taken that they would get the chance to be together.

But life was full of surprises.

The first surprise was the pardoning of them for their crimes in relation to Ishval. Though they argued with Grumman over his decision to sign the papers to forever have them excused for their actions on the frontline, they couldn't find it in themselves to argue with the Ishvalan Elders. The Elders had asked that they, and whoever else had taken part in the efforts to rebuild Ishval, be pardoned on the grounds that, they would continue to commit their time and energy to ensuring something like the Ishvalan Extermination campaign never happened again.

While both Riza and Roy did not believe they deserved to walk free after all they had done, they swore that for as long as they were in a place of power, the Ishvalans would not be persecuted again. Roy took it one step further and even began lobbying for laws against hate crimes that would bring an ample amount of punishment to anyone who participated in them. They still had not forgiven themselves for their actions – however, they were adamant in their resolve to provide Ishval with whatever help they needed. If they wanted them alive and working, then that's what they were going to do.

The second surprise was Grumman's dissolvent of the Anti-Fraternization Laws. After having sat in the Fuhrer's chair for nearly three years, the old coot had decided that he had had quite enough of the laws that dictated a soldier's personal life, and chose to abolish those along with a few others. The moment those laws had been dissolved, the entire military seemed to turn their eyes towards Mustang and Hawkeye – but the two of them had far too much to do than worry about dating and marriage. Besides, they quite liked the secret nature of their relationship.

The third surprise was Roy Mustang's decision to not run for Prime Minister after power had been shifted to Parliament. The general public was shocked that the young upstart, who at the time was still a fresh-faced thirty-five, had decided not to move along with the power. Even Riza could hardly believe his decision to pass up the opportunity – that was, until he explained it to her.

'I'd rather become Fuhrer and be able to control the military than become a politician,' Roy had shared with her one night over supper. 'I know I would be decent at it, but I would rather focus on ensuring that the military never fall back into corruption than sit in on meetings where all they talk about are laws. I need to be doing something. I need to be in the Fuhrer's chair to make sure that the military will never be used to cause so much destruction ever again.'

The fourth surprise was Grumman's campaign for Prime Minister and his ultimate winning of the title. It was the first democratic election that Amestris had held in over two hundred years, the voters all agreeing that if they had liked the old General as a Fuhrer, they would most likely like him as a Prime Minister. Roy couldn't have been happier with the turn of events, now knowing that someone he trusted would be in control of Parliament.

That only left one thing to be decided. Who was to be Fuhrer?

Having jumped the ranks easily after his participation in 'The Promised Day', it came as no surprise to anyone that the newly minted General Mustang would not hold on to that title for long. Upon his 'promotion' to Prime Minister, Grumman had announced Mustang as his desired predecessor. There were few naysayers who remarked that the title truly belonged to Olivier Armstrong – however, the majority of the military found no reason to argue with the decision to give Mustang the chair. Besides, Armstrong preferred her title of "Queen of the North" to Fuhrer and wouldn't have it any other way. Briggs was her's; Mustang could have Central.

It was only after Roy Mustang had officially become Fuhrer that the idea of marriage finally became a possibility. With Roy's climb to the top done, he saw no reason for Riza to continue to stand behind him, and voiced his desire to have her stand beside him instead. The First Lady of Amestris would have many responsibilities of her own and he couldn't imagine any other woman filling that role but her. It took a while for Riza to agree to their union – still having lingering doubts after all she had done in Ishval – however, eventually Roy was able to wear her down.

Their wedding had been a spectacle, much to both their displeasure. They would have been happy with just a small ceremony and a few friends – but given Mustang's position as Fuhrer, they had no other choice. The whole of the military was there along with Fullmetal and his rambunctious brood of children. Though Roy was too proud to say anything, Riza knew that he greatly appreciated Ed setting aside his business in Resembool and making the time to attend the ceremony. Even Al, in his Xingese inspired get up, was able to make it as well.

After the wedding was done – the real work begun.

Roy settled in nicely to his new position, taking to his fuhrership like a duck took to water. Riza also had an easy time falling into her new role upon her retirement from the military. She enjoyed the opportunity to participate in projects that would assist the lower income families across Amestris and found that she had a real passion for projects that involved children.

Speaking of children…

At the age of thirty-five, Riza had begun to assume that her and Roy would never be blessed with a child. Naturally, she was disappointed – but she couldn't really say she didn't understand the reasoning behind fate's cruel decision.

That was when – a month after her thirty-sixth birthday – the sickness began.

To say she was terrified was an understatement. She had spent so long assuming that her and Roy would never have a child, that she hadn't even begun to think about what to do if they did have one. Could a retired sniper even become a loving mother after all she had seen and done?

There was one thing she knew for sure though – and that was that Roy Mustang would make an excellent father.

From the moment he knew of their child, he immediately accepted the "dad" role. There was not a single doctor's appointment that Riza went to alone. Not one morning did she spend her time on the cold tile floor of their bathroom alone, Roy always there holding her hair and whispering loving words of comfort. He was so gentle, so concerned, and so excited – fully accepting the good fortune they had been given and thanking whoever may have resided above for the blessing.

As time went on, and Riza grew bigger, her anxiety developed into her own sort of excitement. She was still scared – oh was she scared – but after having felt the baby kick for the first time, she could no longer question whether she would be able love this child enough. With that one little movement, she had realized that she already loved this baby more than anything – and no past of her's was ever going to negatively affect the future of her child.

Mustang's men, still loyal to the man as ever, had placed bets on what the gender of the baby would be, despite Riza's annoyance in regards to the whole affair. Being the total men they were, they all bet that the child would be a boy.

'Powerful men like the Fuhrer have boys,' Breda had told her once, positive in his assumption. 'Your little kicker is going to be a boy – I'm sure of it."

The only person who dared bet against the 'boy theory' was Prime Minister Grumman himself. He said that he had no inclination one way or the other, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to bet against the majority.

'I like to take my chances.' He had commented when asked about the rationale behind his bet.

Little did the man know that he would be walking away from Central Regional Hospital about thirty-thousand cens richer the day that Riza went into labor.

It was a girl.

Though her and Roy had never spoken about what they believed their baby would be, they had been convinced by their men that this child just had to be a boy. But man, were they wrong.

Elizabeth Mustang entered the world as pink as the blanket they used to swaddle her. With a small nose and heart-shaped lips, she was definitely her mother's daughter – however, she took more after her father. Even at birth, she possessed a head full of thick black hair and eyes as dark as the night sky. She was beautiful. She was perfect.

The men had been disappointed at first, but once they saw the newborn's face, their hearts were no longer theirs's. Elizabeth was going to be one spoiled little girl.

It wasn't until everyone had cleared out, and Riza and Roy were left alone with their daughter, that a thought occurred to the very tired, new mother. As she watched her husband cradle Elizabeth in his arms, his body naturally swaying in an attempt to comfort her – she realized why men like Mustang and Hughes were blessed with daughters rather than sons.

It was because they needed them.

Already, Riza could sense a change in Roy. His eyes held a sparkle in them that she had only seen a few times in her life, and she knew exactly what it meant. He had a new purpose. He was going to be the best man he could be for this little girl and protect her from all the evils that lurked in the world. Roy was a man that needed purpose in his life – he was too driven to live without it – and in Elizabeth he found a lifelong purpose that he was only happy to fulfill.

The goofy grin that appeared on his face as Elizabeth gurgled and twitched, had tears forming in Riza's eyes. In that moment, he looked more like Hughes than he ever had before.

The look he gave his daughter on the day of her birth was the same one he was giving her now. It was a promise, a promise to protect her from any harm she could possibly imagine. Riza was brought back from her reverie by her husband's sweet voice, beckoning their daughter again.

"Lizzie, what's wrong?" He asked the girl gently, placing a hand on her small shoulder in a show of support. Riza could feel the child's tears against her neck, the small puffs of air escaping the girl's mouth in her panic causing her mother's heart to ache. She had never seen Elizabeth this worked up.

"Elizabeth?" Riza asked, pulling the girl back from her neck so that she could see her face. The small girl tried her hardest to latch on to her mother, not wanting to be moved from her spot, but she was fighting a losing battle. "Elizabeth, what has gotten into you?"

"Scary," The little girl mumbled, her bottom lip trembling. She gazed up at her mother with puffy, dark eyes. "Too scary. I couldn't – I couldn't – find you. Fire."

The child's words were near incoherent with her breathing as rapid as it was, but both Roy and Riza were able to decipher the last word she had mumbled. Fire?

"Lizzie," Roy stroked the messy black braid that lay haphazardly down his daughter's back. Both his touch and tone were gentle. "It was just a dream. There's no fire."

"Daddy hurt."

Roy's brow furrowed in confusion. His hand went back to its previous place on her shoulder and he turned her over to face him. Reluctantly, the girl disengaged from around her mother's neck and laid flat on her back.

"I'm not hurt." The man insisted, gently pushing a few unruly strands of hair back from her face. He even gave her a soft kiss on the forehead for good measure. Usually these soft ministrations would be enough to calm his daughter down – but tonight, it just set off another round of tears.

"Burn."

"Burn?" Roy asked, taken aback by the fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks. "What burn?"

At this point, Riza turned on her stomach to reach for the bedside lamp. With neither her husband or her sleeping, there was no point in leaving the room shrouded in darkness.

With the light now on, Roy had to squint to see the face of his small daughter. Although he had regained his sight many years ago, his eyes were still sensitive to light. Once he was able to blink away the pain from the unwanted intrusion, he focused back on the girl. Though the light seemed to calm her slightly, she was still pale as a ghost and crying.

"Burn." The young girl finally answered, lip wobbling as she attempted to speak clearly. "You're burn, Daddy. It hurts."

Ah, that explained it.

When Roy had put her to bed that night, he had foregone his shirt in favor of a light robe. It was summer and their home stayed warm in the evenings due to its position in relation to the sun. Though Elizabeth had seen him multiple times without a shirt, it was the first time she had taken notice of the large burn on his side.

Roy had thought nothing of it – just telling Elizabeth that it was a burn he had received in his earlier years with the military. Being the Flame Alchemist's daughter, Elizabeth knew about fire and what happens if you touch it. Knowing this, Roy had simply brushed off the situation, kissing her on the head and tucking her in for the night.

He never even thought to reassure Elizabeth that it no longer hurt (well, it still ached – but not bad).

"Lizzie," He murmured, moving closer to the toddler. "Daddy's burn doesn't hurt anymore. Everything's fine."

At these words, his daughter stopped mid-hiccup. With small fisted fingers, she rubbed at her eyes, before looking up at him in confirmation.

"No hurt?"

"Nope!" Roy told her, smiling widely before turning over on to his back, the sheet sliding down to his waist and exposing the old wound. "See? I can even touch it!"

Elizabeth watched as the man took two fingers and prodded the puckered skin of his side. She watched his face for any sign of pain, but there was none. From her side of the bed, Riza breathed a sigh of relief, believing this was confirmation enough to soothe the child after whatever nightmare her mind had managed to conjure up.

"Mommy's?"

Roy's brows furrowed in confusion at the question, his fingers pausing over his skin. "Mommy's what?"

"Burn. Mommy has burn."

So much for not allowing her past to affect her daughter's future.

Riza was normally so careful with her back, only ever exposing it on hot, summer nights when she opted to wear a nightdress instead of one of Roy's old shirts to bed. Elizabeth had never had reason to see it, her mother's blonde hair reaching just past her shoulders once again and covering up the small sliver of tattoo that resided at the base of her neck.

However, when the young girl had crept into their room that night, she must have seen the burn that lay on her mother's shoulder blade, and recognized it as the same wound she saw earlier on her father. Whatever nightmare she had – doused in fire, surely – must have only been made worse once she chose to seek comfort from her mother, only to be met with a back full of scars.

"My burns don't hurt, Elizabeth." Riza assured her – one hand coming up to gently play with the sweaty locks that lay on her forehead. Oh, how she loved this child. "Daddy and I are all better now."

"Really?" The toddler asked in a sweet voice, her tone hushed. The hopeful look in her eyes was enough to almost make Riza cry. Such a big heart, for such a small girl. How did two killers create this?

"Yes, really." Riza leaned in to kiss her cheek, taking her thumb and wiping away the last remnants of tears that lay on her pale skin. "Mommy and Daddy will never let the same thing happen to you. You're safe with us."

Roy regarded his daughter with a tired smile, nodding at his wife's words. "You have nothing to worry about, Lizzie. Old wounds are old wounds."

Though her toddler brain couldn't comprehend what he was saying in the last part – the young girl nodded, accepting her parents' reassurances. This had Riza breathing a sigh of relief, hopeful that they might be able to go back to sleep.

At that exact moment, Elizabeth's mouth opened in a yawn – the excitement of the night finally catching up to her. The sleepy expression on her face was too adorable for her parents to ignore, both looking at her fondly as she snuggled down into the pillow between them.

Riza had already turned over on to her stomach, arm reaching out to flick the switch of the lamp off – when she felt a tiny pair of warm, chapped lips graze over her back. Tilting her head back, she watched as Elizabeth repeated the gesture by placing a small kiss right over the burn mark on her father's belly.

As if she didn't realize how much of an affect her actions had on her parents, the small girl snuggled down in the blankets once more and was out like a light before her mother could even turn the lamp off.

Roy looked over at her, shock written across his features. She imagined she looked much the same.

Once they had gotten over their initial surprise, both settled back into bed, praying that sleep would come easy with the busy day they had ahead. After she turned the light off, Riza lay facing away from her husband and daughter. She didn't want either of them to see the silent tears that now streamed down her face.

If she had turned around, she would have noticed a slight telltale shake in Roy's shoulders, as well. It wasn't the first time she had thought about it that night, but she found herself asking the same question again.

How did two killers create this?

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violetsystems · 4 years

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#personal

My connection is super trashy this morning much like the cards I’ve been dealt in life these days. It seems like my actual turn in whatever game is in play gets ignored more blatantly. I found an old USB on the shelf cleaning a couple of days ago. On it was a copy of Rise of Skywalker, Ninku, and Blade Runner. I’ve watched Blade Runner a thousand times and never picked up on the chess game. Bishop to King Seven. A famous move I made the link to in a post here only countered by forking in tandem with the opposing knight. The Immortal Game. Sometimes if you really believed you were living in a simulation there’s magic moments such as that. To me it’s really just the poetry of my life I live with nobody else gets but me. I write about it sure. I listen to Steely Dan all day too. Nobody wants to hear from men right now I get it. Especially Jerry Saltz and the neoliberal elite. But that’s where I came from. And judging from the dead responses on LinkedIn when it comes to networking, people would rather forget I even existed. I feel like sometimes I get the hint and most of the last three months has been hobbling away from that. My generation was the first generation after the boomers to be forgotten about. We were in constant rebellion at the sheer audacity of how we were supposed to live. Subsequently we were never really designed to rise up from under that thumb unless we were part of the family. And the one thing I’ve learned from the tax hell I look at every day in my financial planning is that families definitely have more opportunities to avoid paying their fair share of taxes. I’m an only child. Never been married. Never had children. Mentored enough people to know I’d be a good father. But overlooked, ridiculed and shunned enough to feel like I’m worthless. Ironically for the first time in my life, I’m worth something on paper to a bank and a credit union. Possibly to the companies I still hold equity in. But for me it’s a very unique situation to be in. Painted in a fucking corner with nobody to tell you what to do other than your better judgement. I don’t wonder if my plan for the next year is right for the long run. The long run has been just that. Twenty years of my life just vanishing in a blink. People eerily waiting for you get the hint. Appalled at the audacity, like Terrell when Roy Batty confronts his maker. Why can’t I live? Everything out of Terrell’s mouth is an excuse. Replicants were made to serve not made to last. Every last inch of life has been accounted for and speculated against. Terrell and the makers coo that you should feel great joy you have a purpose in their eyes. And yet I’ve seen things you humans wouldn’t believe. I’ve seen everything in my old office disappear into the trash without any real confirmation. I’ve seen friends I helped through thick and thin respond cold, callous and on some sort of script fearing legal action. I’ve seen barely anyone but my neighbors between grocery drop offs. And most likely they’re just nosy.

Everyone makes sure they are in proximity of me when I crack and open up to the world. This is still people’s assumption. That I’m looking for new friends after all of this. That my vulnerability can be further speculated on. That I can still be trapped. After sitting here with no closure listening to people’s problems but having my own go completely unnoticed. Much like the replicants in Blade Runner, I have no prime directive other than to walk around and look cool in military upcycled gear. I check my LinkedIn notifications to look for jobs. There are some bright spots. Mostly in China. Everything else is a team of salesmen and recruiters looking for desperate contractors to overhaul IT departments they bought after laying off entire staff. It’s the equivalent of getting back into the market like a scab. All the salaries are the same for these kinds of jobs. And it would be a lateral move with no pay increase. These are for profit jobs. I spent twenty years in a non profit with barely a cost of living raise. That was the salary I achieved. Nielsen Gallup polls and artistic corporate analysis has stolen everything from me, including my non profit salary and made it the new normal. I was barely able to escape any sort of lifestyle creep including debt. I chewed my way out of it alone. Made to feel undesirable and worthless. Received a few lump sums after the reduction of force. And the markets are beating the war drum out there like the best thing to do is to put it all back in the hands of corporations that won’t look me in the eye to hire me. All the while, people pretend that I’m not real enough to talk to. I’m a ghost that conflicts the lies people hope no one uncovers. An inconvenient truth to even myself. And this is where the politics stop for me. I have to live like everyone else. America is on a collision course with everything these days. Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a shining light of hope for getting out of the clutches of disturbing Christian White men who treat money like a whip. Mitch McConnell is already dancing on her grave at this point. These people have no shame. Trying to push a supreme court candidate before the elections to further their political agenda. An agenda that has nothing to do with respect for freedom unless it benefits their interests and way of life. The American dream in this respect is and has always been a total lie. To be betrayed by it and left for dead is something I have already learned from. And my grand chess move is the same as it was a few weeks ago. In the meantime I sold all my blizzard stock to buy IBM while they partner with London fashion week. Even if the speculative value of my portfolio is trash, that trade confirmation went through loud and clear. We all have different values in America for sure. But the people who bought and lobbied their way into offices have little value to me.

The way things look for me, I will be sitting out until February at the earliest. I’ve budgeted myself out with health insurance. The premiums are fucking outrageous and I had a chance to open enroll two weeks before I was let go. I could have softened the financial burden if somebody would have just let me know. If I would have had any lead time I would have made some different decisions. But after twenty years, I was treated in a way that sent a real message. One that nobody seems to be able to carry the weight of other than me. It’s a unique situation. Capitalists would love to shower praise on it as being the spirit of entrepreneurship. But we all know that’s some Ayn Rand survival of the fittest bullshit. There’s two choices. You either believe the pyramid scheme and give up your money, power, and influence for the greater agenda. Or you get ostracized. Generation X in America was always an alienated group. Maybe we were the first to realize how we were being scammed. Some of us got dropped out of the nest and cracked. The Kurt Kobains that succumbed to heroin and suicide. The ground wasn’t very soft during those times. A stable job seemed like an accomplishment. Truthfully there are jobs out there that require over ten years of experience. It’s a nice option to have. A resume that actually looks like you’ve done something even if nobody wants to acknowledge you even existed. But when I look around for answers in this city I find very little. I have a safe place to stay for awhile without having to do much. I got approved for a license for Ableton Live. It’s the first time I’ve owned it. I spent last night replacing the SSD in my laptop with a terabyte drive with faster read and write speeds. With the ram upgrade I can do video and audio on the fly without blinking. I write in my sleep and I communicate organically throughout all of this. I’ve had to own my struggles and pain time and time again only to be buried. And at this point, my friends down here realize my side of the story more than most. And I’m sure it feels hurtful and hopeless to know what I’ve been through doesn’t mean all that much because I’m a Steely Dan fan. The truth is people will grasp at straws to throw stones in a glass house. Capitalism is a self destructive behavior. There’s not enough to go around to feed the hungry shareholders, the investors, the financiers, the lawyers, the useless aspects of society speculate on paper currency and not human spirit. We end up confronting it sooner or later. And the answer we get is simple. Bishop to King Seven is checkmate. You have no more moves. And I’m done hearing the excuses. I have won the game. I am simply waiting for your concession. If I have to wait all winter, please know that I’ve burnt enough bridges to stay warm. Hate to throw cold water on the plans to keep me obsolete. My incept date passed a long time ago. And while most of my past is lost in the rain, I am at least still human enough to cry. Make no mistake I shed no tears for winning. <3 Tim

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writing-yj · 7 years

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Robin x Reader: The Bird Tattoo~Part Ten (Soulmate AU)

A/n: I’m glad you all like this series! But DAMN get ready to be very disobedient this chapter; you’re lucky you don’t get kicked off the team.

Feel free to ask to be tagged whenever I update this series, by the way.

Tagged: @instantangelstudent

Just hours later, you were putting on your uniform, mask and all, as your team was getting ready for their own mission. You weren’t going on a mission, per se. You had your own plans.

After you donned your black and white suit, you slid into the kitchen and casually sat on a chair, your new tablet in your hands as you continued to search for The Doctor’s whereabouts. You still had unfinished business. But you couldn’t do much with a broken sternum, could you? You intended on fixing that.

“I don’t know what you’re doing out here,” Batman called out. “Why are you wearing that when you know you’re not allowed to go on missions?”

You turned your head slightly and glared at him. “It makes me feel better about me being stuck here, a useless mockingbird with a fractured sternum. You could say I’m grounded.” You snarked. You sounded rather disrespectful, which you didn’t intend, but you were still very salty. “And I know I have to face the consequences for my actions, but it doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

Batman didn’t respond and he continued with the debriefing, but your teammates were a little surprised that you had the guts to talk to Batman like that. You were furiously going over more evidence and details from the most recent encounter with The Doctor in order to find his true hideout, so you didn’t care if you ticked Batman off or not.

One by one, your friends left to go on a mission that lacked an important team member: you. At least it left you some times to get your sternum fixed. A small voice inside you reminded you that you could get in huge trouble for doing it if you were discovered, but you weren’t going to wait for around a month for it to heal.

You checked the cameras in the Watchtower, mapping out your way to get in and out without being caught. Very few Justice League members were there, to your surprise. Only Wonder Woman, Flash, and Green Lantern were there, and none of them were in your way to their med bay.

The Justice League had more advanced medical technology up in the Watchtower than in Mount Justice, which occasionally annoyed you, but it usually wasn’t used unless under extreme circumstances. You knew full well that this wasn’t an extreme injury that needed healed ASAP, but you wanted to be able to do anything you wanted without the risk of being injured any further.

You quickly ran to the zeta tube and kept the cameras up on the screen of your tablet. Can’t be too cautious when it comes to the Justice League, and Barry Allen was the Flash for a reason. One noise from you and he could be in front of you in, well, a flash.

Recognized: Mockingbird B27

“Damn.” You completely overlooked the sound of the zeta tubes. You remembered everything, even to set the camera on replay of the empty hallways to cover your tracks. But you forgot about this. You quickly tucked your tablet away.

Like you predicted, Flash showed up in front of in an instant. “I might not be the one who carries the rule book around for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be up here.” He crossed his arms. “You need to go back to the Cave.”

You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please? I have a painfully fractured sternum, and you guys have the technology that can fix that! I want to be able to be teenager and a hero, not a crippled bird stuck in a mountain, and I need your help to do it.” You begged, hoping that your act was working.

Flash stared to you down, and you stared back with the saddest eyes you could muster. He wasn’t the most serious of heroes and definitely an outgoing man, so you knew he wasn’t going be harsh about anything. “You know what? Fine. But only,” he stepped closer and looked down at you. “If you can make me laugh.”

“You think that’s a challenge?”

“I can change my mind.”

You took what you could get, and cleared your throat. With the deep voice of Batman, you said, “I’m sorry to cut this meeting short, but I have a spa appointment at noon. Wouldn’t want my masseuse to get lonely.”

Let’s just say you got into the med bay and healed your sternum with no trouble at all. By the time you left, a few hours later, Flash was still giggling into his hand. He hoped the cameras caught it, but because of you, they didn’t.

When you stepped out of the zeta tube, you became ten times paler than normal. Batman, Black Canary, Green Arrow, and Superman were waiting for you with stern faces. From their stances and expressions, you were caught red-handed with everything. The team was off to the side, warily watching the scene unfold. Robin’s eyes were trained on you, before he looked back over the adults.

“Shit…” You muttered under your breath. This didn’t look good for you at all. Not one bit.

“’Shit’ is right, Mockingbird!” Black Canary shouted. “What were you thinking?!”

You wrung your hands together for a little bit. “…That depends on what you’re referring to.”

“All of it!”

“I genuinely want you to elaborate on this so I can gather my honest excuses.”

She took a deep breath and counted to ten. Your sure did know how to try someone’s patience. “We still aren’t happy with how that mission went, you know that already. But then I hear that you went out on a mission with Red Arrow!?”

Your gaze snapped over to your team. Did one of them actually snitch on you?!

“We didn’t have to ask anyone to know it was you two,” Green Arrow stepped forward. “I recognized you and Roy’s handiwork in a heartbeat.”

You grinned and chuckled. “Glad you recognized it from the good old days.” It was almost touching that you and Roy had a trademark style on joint missions. It wasn’t the best style, of course.

“This is not funny.” Black Canary grabbed your attention again. “Then we find out that you’ve been tampering with Mount Justice’s security footage!”

“For good reason.”

“As well as the Watchtower’s!”

“…Also for good reason.”

“And you snuck up to the Watchtower! You know damn well you aren’t supposed to be up there!” Dinah yelled. You hadn’t been scolded like this by her for a very long time. You felt like a child again, but you violently shoved that feeling away. No time for sentiment.

When Superman moved towards you, your eye twitched. As you stated before, he was certainly not your favorite hero. “I don’t what’s gotten in to you lately, but you need to get your emotions in check. You’ve been making rash and stupid decisions on your part.”

Something snapped deep inside you. “You’re one to talk! You’re telling me to get my emotions in check!?” Your nails dug into your palm. “Have you forgotten about the time you-”

“I suggest you stop right there, Mockingbird.” Superman growled, stepping/floating over to you. He was much too close your your liking, and you wanted to punch the hell out of him. But you couldn’t for a plethora of reasons.

You gritted your teeth. “I suggest that you back up, Kent.” The team couldn’t make out the last name you uttered, but you were definitely not yourself. This was very unlike you, as if a different emotion was planted in your mind and was starting to grow out of control.

If Superman didn’t have control of his powers, you would have been melted by now. “You really know how to push my buttons, don’t you?” He had to remind himself that you were (seemingly) just an unruly and rebellious teenager.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You raised your voice. “I’ve been looking for the mute button!”

�� Several amused snorts were heard around the room, but were quickly silenced.

Although Batman was impressed by your willingness to stand up to Superman and using your wit against him, you were still being disrespectful and in a lot of trouble.

“And I feel like finding your power button!” Superman threatened. It was usually hard to get him angry, but you sure were a talented creature. You’d prefer if he didn’t find your power button; you’d like to live for at least a few more days.

“Bite me, you idiot!” You snapped back.

Black Canary was getting tired of your antics. “Mockingbird, apologize to him right now! You are out of line! I expected more from you.” Just fifteen minutes before, the last thing you wanted was to disappoint your adoptive mother. But now…

You didn’t care. You were angry. “I’m sorry for calling you and idiot,” you paused and your team knew what was coming next. “I thought you already knew!”

Green Arrow thought it was a good time to walk up behind you and pick you up, moving you away from the furious Kryptonian. “I know you have a sharp wit and all, but please save it for another time.” Oliver exasperatedly mumbled in your ear. He set you down, and stood not too far from you. You were practically his daughter, but this version was unfamiliar.

“Mockingbird, for someone who doesn’t like consequences, you seem to enjoy adding to them.” Batman took his turn to speak. “I have half the mind to remove you from the team.”

That got you to stop talking, but you still trembled as rage slowly built in your chest. Your jaw was tense, and your face was set with a frightening glare. You didn’t recognize your behavior, either. Does the thirst for revenge really change a person this much?

“Care to share your ‘honest excuses’?” Black Canary asked menacingly.

You took a deep breath and threw them out there. “As for going on a mission with Roy, you said I couldn’t go on a mission with the team or alone,” you stood and straighter and crossed your arms. “Roy isn’t apart of this team, and I didn’t go alone. So there’s that loophole.”

“You and your loopholes…” Green Arrow muttered. As a young protege, you lived to find loopholes in the rules you didn’t like. And you hated these new rules.

“Mount Justice security tapes?”

“My sunglasses came off when we were playing hide-and-seek and Robin recognized me and spilled personal information,” you gave him the side eye. You still had to pretend to hate him to keep your cover. “I wanted to keep it confidential.” You didn’t know how you were caught

“Watchtower footage?”

“I didn’t exactly want to get caught, but that kind of backfired.”

Black Canary raised an eyebrow. “And why were you up there in the first place?”

“Despite this new Kevlar,” You gestured to your costume. “I was still held back by a damn fractured sternum. It would have taken over a month for it to completely heal and I refused to sit and be useless for that long. I went up there to get it fixed with the kind of technology we don’t have down here.”

You never sounded so bitter in your life. Being held back? Locked up? Restrained? No. You refused. It never lasted long, being held back. Simply because you believed you were meant to do more. You were made to do more. It could be a side effect from the experiments, the mental brainwashing and DNA. You originally didn’t think any sort of bird-like instincts would come from it, but only one showed. Luckily.

“What I want to know is how you got past three Justice League Members.” Green Arrow placed a hand on your shoulder. Right now, he sympathized with you. He, too, once went against rules dangerously, and he had an idea on where this was coming from.

Right on time, Flash appeared in the cave via zeta tube.

Recognized: Flash 04

You looked at him with a stone-hard face, as did everyone else. It was understood that he was the one who let you pass, but you knew he wasn’t going to get in trouble, unlike you.

“Oh boy,” Flash nervously laughed. “You guys look a bit unhappy, what happened?”

“Mockingbird here,” Superman threw a hand out at you and you growled. “Went into the Watchtower and got past you, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern to heal her sternum. I don’t suppose you know anything about it?”

Flash stuttered for only a few seconds before sighing. “She came up there and I found her trying to come in. I told her to go back but she told me why she was there and,”Green Arrow wasn’t the only one who understood why you did it. “I thought her reason to get her sternum fixed was valid and reasonable. I said I’d let her do it if she made me laugh.”

Wally zipped on over to him and said, “You do realize that’s not very difficult, right?” He stared at him. It wasn’t hard to make Barry laugh and it never has been.

“What else was I supposed to say?!”

“I don’t know, maybe not let her come into the Watchtower?” Superman was still being a jerk, but you weren’t surprised.

Batman turned to you, not caring about what they had to said at the moment. “For the next week, you will be staying in your room. You are only allowed to come out to eat, go to school, and if we deem it necessary. Otherwise, you are to not leave that room whatsoever.” He normally wouldn’t do something that harsh, but it’s better than kicking you off the team. It was last resort option.

“What he’s trying to say is, ‘You’re grounded.’” Dinah glared. She seemed to have forgotten how you almost went insane the last time you were grounded.

“What!?” You roared in a deep voice, and Oliver squeezed your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. “You’re legitimately grounding me!?” You were seeing red. Oliver’s hand prevented you from wanting to go any further, but you were close to breaking.

“Batman, Dinah,” Oliver said cautiously. “Are you sure that’s a good-”

“It’s that or getting kicked off the team. Permanently.”

A couple quiet gasps came from the team, but refrained from snapping at them again. You reluctantly pulled out of Oliver’s comforting grip, and you brushed past Dinah with a hateful aura.

You were halfway across the room when she said, “I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to get over it. Why are you acting like this?” Dinah still sounded angry, but not as angry as she was a little bit ago.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” You turned your head. “But birds don’t like being caged!” You shouted, gritting your teeth.

“Watch your tone and what you say, Mockingbird.” She snapped back.

“You’re not. My. Mother!” You growled and turned around, walking away faster than before. “You never were…” You growled, and you disappeared down the hallway.

Dinah’s face fell and her quiet gasp was only heard by a few select people. Your words went straight to her heart and broke it; if you were in your right mind, you wouldn’t have even dreamed of saying that.

The team silently snuck out of the mission room; the tension was almost unbearable. This seemed like a “discussion” they weren’t apart of and didn’t want to be. Robin gradually separated from the group, and headed to your room.

“We need to get a DNA sample from Mockingbird. Something is wrong with her, and it can’t be just emotions, nor from any sort of soulmate situation.” Batman said, trying to form a plan.

Meanwhile, Oliver was very unhappy about the whole ordeal. “Mockingbird isn’t the only one with a problem,” Green Arrow walked over to Superman. “I think you’re a little out of line, too.”

Superman frowned and his hands gradually curled into fists. “Excuse me?” At the time, he didn’t see any fault in anything he did. “I’m out of line?”

“First of all, you let a teenager set you off,” Oliver started a list. “Secondly, you were obviously ready to beat her, a teenager, into the ground,” Dinah and Batman thought the same, but they weren’t the ones voicing it. “Third of all, it is not okay to threaten to kill a teenager! How is that not out of line!?”

Superman narrowed his eyes. His seldom-seen arrogance was kicking in. “Did you see how she spoke to me?” You may be a talented hero, but one of the more infuriating ones, in Superman’s eyes.

“Did you see how you acted like a child?! That is no excuse to-”

This was getting very ugly, very fast. Flash had to cut in and move them apart. Oliver was also protective over you; he helped Dinah raise you and still cared for your well-being and how you were treated. You were a great kid. Although he definitely didn’t approve of your behavior, he knew that you couldn’t help it; something else was going on and it was controlling you.

You were sitting at your desk with your head down in your arms; the cold wood surface felt good. The moment you got to your room, you got a horrible headache and you were already feeling out of sorts beforehand. All that happened was that you got angry, and then you just exploded. Said things you never would. Did things you didn’t intend to do. You had the best intentions, although they weren’t allowed, but your anger spiked when you were called out. Every action of yours had a reason, but your outraged actions lacked barely any reason. And you didn’t know why.

You barely looked up when there was a knock on your door, and gave out a weak, “Come in.” Whoever it was, you didn’t want to take any sort of anger out on anyone else. Your stunts almost got you pulled off the team; anything further would seal the deal.

The door slid open and then closed, and you recognized his footsteps. “Are you okay, (Y/n)?” You were never more relieved to hear Robin’s voice. Your soulmate of not even twenty-four hours was already a cure for your tense emotions.

Shame still rippled inside you, as did some residual anger, but it felt like a great weight was lifted from your shoulders. “To tell you the truth,” You sat up, taking off your mask and rubbing your eyes. “I’m really not. There’s something wrong with me, Dick, and I don’t know what it is. I was perfectly fine earlier, but now?” You tossed your mask across the room, and it landed on your dresser just as you intended. “I almost got myself kicked off this team because of a bad temper that came out of nowhere. I hurt Black Canary with a mere seven words and I pissed off Batman more than I did when I broke into the Batcave.”

Robin put his hands on your shoulders, but didn’t try to make you look at him. Once soulmates find each other, they are more in-tune than others. “I’d never let you get kicked off the team. I’d leave, too, if you were.”

“That’s ridiculous. You are an extremely vital part of this team; they’d fall apart if you never came back.” You were only flattered a little. He might try to not get you kicked off the team, but you would never let him leave the team willingly, especially if it was going to be for you.

“And so are you.” Robin moved to your side, glancing down to your face. “I really regret telling you that your powers are useless because they aren’t. And I admit, you’re probably stronger than me.” He poked you, and you smiled.

“At least physically. You know that I can knock you on your ass any day.” You looked up and him with a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Robin smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Definitely one that you would lose.” You stated, and he didn’t deny it.

You stared at each other for a little while longer before you looked away. Even though he ended up being your soulmate, you couldn’t understand how he could deal with you at the moment, seeing as how horrible you acted. You felt like a monster living in a fairy-tale. You were the Beast, and Robin was the Beauty.

Robin pulled up a chair to sit next to you after about two minutes. He leaned forward to look at your face, but was startled to see your eyes a little glazed over. He poked you and called your name, but you didn’t respond to anything. Robin almost started panicking, but he remembered your occasional trances just in time.

But he got concerned after almost six minutes. Did they usually last this long? Robin took it upon himself to pick you up and lay you on your bed, and he got on the bed with you. Your head was in his lap and he played with your hair, but it wasn’t too easy to look at your blank (e/c) eyes. He slowly started to nudge you, trying to snap you out of it. Everyone wanted to know why you fell into these trances, but this one was the longest one yet.

“(Y/n)…?!” His concern was growing, and his heart rate was rising rapidly. “Why do you do this!?” Robin shook you a little harder, and he held two fingers to the pulse point on your neck.

He’d never felt a heart beating that fast in his life. “Oh no, holy shi-”

You blinked and snapped out of it with a loud gasp, your chest expanding greatly as you inhaled. Your eyes were now filled with an emotion he couldn’t pinpoint; at least it wasn’t anger anymore.

“(Y/n), what happened?” The worry in his voice and the anxious look on his face made you feel a little bad.

“I… don’t know. I felt my chest get tight but I can’t remember anything else…” You were also a little stressed out my the situation. You never knew why it happened, or why they were so frequent. Originally your trances would happen when you got lost in thought. It was different now.

Robin ran his hand through your hair again, and it was tremendously relaxing. It was soft and silky between his fingers, and he enjoyed it as well. The calm look on your face was worth it. After that episode, and that day’s events, you needed it more than ever.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps coming down the hall. Robin heard them right after you did, and you both started freaking out. “What do we do?!” Robin whispered harshly.

“I’m sorry for this…” You said and you shoved him off the bed on the other side. He landed on the ground with a quiet thump and a grunt, but nothing actually hurt. However, it did hurt when you nailed him in the face with a book. “Pretend you’re reading! Come up with a good excuse!”

Robin was clutching is slightly-bleeding nose and nodded, and you fell limp on your bed and made it look like you were in a trance. Hell, it almost felt like you were.

Your door slid open and Green Arrow stepped in, turning on the light. He looked at you and realized you were in a trance, but then he saw Robin reading a book on the floor and that left him puzzled. “Why are you in Mockingbird’s room?” He asked with a slight glare. Oliver knew you were soulmates, but two teenagers of the opposite sex alone in the same room was seen as suspicious to most adults.

“I came in here earlier and I spoke to her for a minute, but then that happened,” Robin held the book in one hand and gestured to you with the other. “So I carried her to her bed and I’ve been down here waiting for her to ‘wake up’.”

“And why exactly is your nose bleeding?”

Robin hesitated. “I scared her when I came up behind her and she elbowed me in the face.” His reason almost sounded like a question, but it passed.

Green Arrow raised an eyebrow, but thought nothing much of it as he left. “Oh, well, thank you for looking after her. Just,” he popped his head back into the room. “Don’t get too friendly with her, alright?”

Robin blushed and didn’t know if he was joking or not. After the door closed, you sat up with a snicker and looked down at him. “Yeah Dick, don’t get too friendly.” He glared at you fiercely. You just rolled your eyes. “That wouldn’t be happening. Not today, anyway.” You dramatically winked at him, and he responded with another grunt and a deeper blush.

“Do you have any tissues? I’m still bleeding from that stupid book.” Robin grumbled and he chucked it back at you. But this time, you were the one who caught it. “I little forewarning, please.”

“Oh hush, I didn’t have any time.” You turned and grabbed the tissue box from the nightstand. You threw it down to him, but almost shrieked with laughter what that hit him in the face, too. “I thought your reflexes were better than that!”

Robin grabbed a tissue and held it to his nose. He let out a muffled, “I hate you.” He wasn’t serious, of course.

“Why? I’m lovely.” You gave him a beaming smile before rolling over to the other edge of the bed. “When you clean that up, you can go ahead and come up here.” You patted the empty spot next to you.

Robin stood up and walked to the trashcan, throwing away any of the bloody tissues he used. “I thought we weren’t ‘getting friendly’.”

“And I thought I said ‘not today’.” You giggled.

That conversation ended with you two laying in bed with your chest against his back and his arm wrapped around you. You were both still in your costumes, but that didn’t matter to you.

You moved a little to look at him and you kissed him on the cheek with a grin. He smiled back, and you got back into your previous position. People regularly see couples spooning in movies, on TV, or in real life; you now understood why people loved it so much.

On the outside, it looked like it was a teenage relationship that was going too fast and would eventually going to fall apart. But there is no too-fast with soulmates. Soulmates are bound forever, and feel as if they’ve been together since the beginning of time, and will be until the end.

And you liked that.

A/n: I am so sorry that this came out so late. I’ve had a few health problems this weekend (I’m not a healthy individual in general; not a good thing for someone my age), but here it is! I previously lied; this will probably go to 12 parts. Feel free to scold me if it goes longer than 12 parts.

#the bird tattoo #robin #robin imagine #robin x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #young justice #young justice imagine #young justice season 1 #young justice x reader #black canary #batman #superman #superman is a jerk

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maxslogic25 · 7 years

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"There Aren’t Enough Qualified Women Speakers" and Other Garbage Excuses for Why Your Marketing Event Isn’t Gender Diverse

Blog images by Alejandra Porta.

I’ve attended enough tech and marketing events to make a few generalizations:

Women are hugely underrepresented; whether it’s a panel or a conference speaker lineup, chances are it’s overrun with white men.

Sexism is prevalent, and it spans from subtle (think underrepresentation, pinkwashed girls’ lounges) to overt (think harassment, non-consensual advances).

There are exceptions (there always are), but this is the general rule, and it’s a huge stain on the industry you and I are both a part of.

Now I want to make it clear, I’m not here to chastise anyone. As a used-to-be conference organizer, I’m guilty of it too.

When I ran Unbounce’s first-ever Call to Action Conference (CTAConf) four years ago, I invited four women to speak, two of which spoke on a panel. The other seven were — you guessed it — white males.

My reason was an all-too familiar one: “There aren’t enough qualified female speakers.”

This is garbage. It’s unacceptable. And it’s not a reason at all — it’s an excuse. What it really came down to was, I wasn’t trying hard enough.

I wasn’t asking my network for recommendations. I wasn’t doing enough research. I wasn’t making the extra effort required to widen the pool of speakers. I wasn’t committed to gender diversity.

Fast forward to today and my perspective has completely changed. Not only because it’s important to me on a personal level, but also because it makes business sense.

See, when you pull from the same pool of speakers as other folks in your industry, everything starts to look like white bread — bland and borderline junkfood. Your conference looks like that other conference that happened a few months ago. And the content? Yep, it’s the same, too.

When you use the same speakers, your lineup looks like white bread—bland and borderline junkfood. Click To Tweet

By digging a little deeper and expanding your search a little wider, you can discover fresh up-and-coming talent with new perspectives, new things to teach. And you show female attendees that their voice and their professional development matter.

And did I mention you sell tickets and attract more female attendees?

Moz, which hosts its own conference (MozCon), reported that as the percent of female speakers increased so did the percent of female attendees. What else can I say but duh?

I see a lot of progress being made around improving gender diversity in marketing and tech. People are asking questions, they’re holding companies accountable, they’re having those tough conversations, which is a great start.

But what are people actually doing about it?

This post will dig into specific steps you can take to improve gender diversity at your next event. They’re the result of an honest-to-goodness desire to do the right thing and our own cringe-worthy fumbles (more on that later).

It’s my hope that these tips and tactics will help to alleviate any hesitation you or your organization might have about taking the leap.

Commit to gender parity

At Unbounce, we’ve been having conversations around gender diversity for months, so when Unbounce CEO Rick Perrault challenged us to commit to gender parity at CTAConf 2017, the response was a resounding YES, YES, YES.

Making progress one Slack convo at a time.

It’s as simple as this. And yet it’s a bit more nuanced as well.

The truth is, achieving gender parity did take a bit more time and a bit more effort. But the result is a more dynamic lineup of speakers and an opportunity to tap into an audience that otherwise might’ve passed on your event.

Forget ROI — talk about RO why not?!

Commit to gender parity at your #marketing event—the result is a more dynamic lineup of speakers. Click To Tweet

So how did we do it? How did we stack our lineup with talented male and female speakers? (And more importantly, how can you?)

Leverage your social network and ask for recommendations via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter (like Unbounce Co-Founder Oli Gardner did for the Unbounce Road Trip in 2015).

Pull from existing comprehensive lists such as this list of 1,000+ tech speakers who aren’t men and this one featuring 100 influential women marketers.

Trade past speaker lists and ratings with your network of event organizers. I sent personal emails to every event organizer I knew asking them for their past speaker lineups and ratings, and in exchange I shared our list and ratings. This tactic is one is my faves, and it’s how we scored a ton of speaker leads for CTAConf.

Email past presenters and speakers and ask them for recommendations. It’s how we found Claire Suellentrop, who’s speaking about creating high-converting campaigns using Jobs To Be Done at this year’s conference.

Sponsor the women at your own company

I honestly believe that everyone has something to teach. EVERYONE. Regardless of gender, regardless of age, regardless of job title, everyone is an expert in something.

It’s this belief that gave me the courage to raise my own hand and ask to speak at last year’s CTAConf.

But I wasn’t a quote unquote speaker. I guess you could have called me a speaker in residence. I spoke at a few small-time events here and there, but I am not famous like Seth Godin. I don’t travel the world speaking at industry events or conferences.

I was caught in a classic Catch-22: I couldn’t become a speaker without experience, but I couldn’t get experience because I wasn’t a speaker.

But rather than focusing on what I didn’t have, our speaker selection committee focused on what I did have: enthusiasm and a whole lotta event marketing experience to boot.

Once the committee deliberated, I spent two hours whiteboarding my talk with Oli. He and Unbounce Senior Conversion Optimizer Michael Aagaard also reviewed my slide deck multiple times, providing constructive feedback.

Their expertise helped fill the gaps in my resume, so that when I stood up on that stage I felt prepared and supported.

And guess what? It went really well.

So this year we reserved one CTAConf speaker slot for employees, and we sent a callout asking for applicants. The response blew my mind: Four applicants, all women. And though the choice was a tough one, I’m pleased to say Alexa Hubley — Customer Communications Specialist and first-time conference speaker — will be on stage at CTAConf 2017 with her talk “Master Customer Marketing By Watching Romantic Comedies.”

So what can you do to improve gender diversity at your upcoming event? You can start in your very own backyard. Encourage high-performing women at your company to speak at events, and offer them mentorship and support to get them up on stage.

And if you’re a man who’s been asked to speak at an event, consider if there’s a woman you know who is equally qualified to speak on the subject. If there is, offer up your slot. In fact, Oli already did this, when he recommended me to speak at CIMC 2017.

For every man asked to speak at an event, there’s a qualified woman who hasn’t been. Find her. Click To Tweet

Create a code of conduct

A clear code of conduct helps create a safe environment for your staff and your event attendees by setting expectations for what is and what is not acceptable behavior.

From a diversity perspective, a code of conduct is an especially helpful tool for making women feel at ease, because there are strict policies in place to deter discrimination and harassment.

Creating a code of conduct out of thin air might seem intimidating, so I suggest pulling inspiration from existing codes and adding your own personal flavor.

When we created our code of conduct, we looked to other companies we admired, specifically Moz and Atlassian.

Wistia has written an exceptional post about how and why they created their code of conduct for WistiaFest, including how they made it visible. Humble folks that they are, they highlighted where they could have improved (so you can learn from their mistakes!).

You’ll notice three core principles outlined in all these codes:

Be nice/respectful/kind/inclusive

Be professional

Look out for others

Wistia’s “Golden Rules.” Image via Wistia.

Including these three core principles and your company’s core values is a great place to start.

And remember, there are no rules when it comes to creating a code of conduct, except one… you have to be prepared to enforce it.

Enforce your code of conduct

A code of conduct is like insurance; you hope you never have to use it, but in those unfortunate circumstances, you’ll be glad you have something to back you up.

At this year’s conference, we’re making our code of conduct front and center with printed posters hung around the venue.

You’ll also find the code on the CTAConf website as well as in our conference app. And we’ve made it simple to report a violation by including a direct phone number to our event marketing coordinator in our code of conduct.

While I can’t go into the specifics of every reported incident, I can tell you we’ve enforced our code multiple times, with attendees and speakers.

Yes, speakers.

Remember when I mentioned cringe-worthy fumbles? Well read on, readers.

See, live events are a tricky beast. You have this very passionate person up on stage who’s pumped up and maybe a little nervous. You have no idea what’s going to come out of their mouth. You hope it won’t be anything offensive, but you really have no idea.

You do, however, have control over their content, specifically their slide deck. This is something we learned the hard way:

Props to Annette for calling us out. It wasn’t our slide, but as event hosts, the content that gets projected for all our guests to see is our responsibility. Period.

So what did we start doing to make sure this never happened again? We leaned on our code of conduct:

We send all our presenters the code of conduct beforehand via email

We include the code of conduct in our Speaker Field Guide, which contains everything a speaker needs to know, such as contact information, travel and accommodation info and slide deck specs

(This one’s a biggie.) We review and sign off on everyone’s slide decks, slide by slide, to ensure there’s no offensive or discriminating content

We don’t invite back speakers who’ve broken our code of conduct

And next year, we’ll take a page out of Moz’s book by including our code of conduct right in our speaker and sponsor contract.

So does all of this “extra stuff” add to our workload? You bet it does. But it’s something we account for now. And the payoff is invaluable.

We’ve still got growing to do

You may have noticed this post is focused on how to create a gender diverse event and not a diverse event. The truth is, we know we can #dobetter at elevating folks who aren’t typically asked to speak at events — not just white women, but people of color, non-binary folks and members of the LGBTQ community.

We know we have more growing to do and we’re committed to it, just as we were committed to achieving gender parity at this year’s conference.

I think we’ve come a long way as a company, and I think I’ve come a long way as a champion for women. The excuse I gave as a conference host nearly four years ago — that there weren’t enough qualified women speakers — is no longer an excuse.

Click to see full lineup of speakers.

We’re welcoming 10 exceptional men and 10 extraordinary women to the CTAConf stage in June, and I couldn’t be more excited.

Hope to see you there :)

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8217493 http://unbounce.com/call-to-action/host-a-safe-and-gender-diverse-marketing-event/

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zacdhaenkeau · 7 years