#but that is also not uncommon as you might think
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Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.
Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.
Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.
I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.
One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)
While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.
Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).
Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)
I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.
I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)
I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?
Hello,
before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.
You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange.
If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.
Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?
Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.
Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.
So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.
If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.
To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.
If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.
Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.
If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...
Actual Answers! Hooray
what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?
Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.
Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.
I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.
The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.
Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.
I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.
This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.
In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.
The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.
If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!
mod Sasza
[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]
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Hey, so, I think I might be a lesbian, are there any deities associated with this kind of thing in any sort of way? I’ve heard some say Artemis but others say that thats interpretation and not necessarily true, and some say Aphrodite because she’d related to sexuality, some say Dionysus or Apollo because they’re related to queerness, etc.
Hey, Nonny!
All of the deities you mentioned make sense to me, actually. I've met many people who associate Artemis with lesbianism; I believe this may be a modern association, but I know there's evidence that it was heavily implied in ancient times. Aphrodite is a goddess of love and sexuality, so it makes sense that she would be able to help with discovering yourself. I've seen Dionysus be regarded as a god of queerness in modern times, actually, but even without that modern association, he is absolutely a wonderful god to help with embracing sexuality. Apollo is also often associated with queerness, and he could help as well; he's great with self-discovery. You may also consider Eros, who is a god of love and sexuality.
Truthfully, the Greek pantheon is pretty queer leaning in general. Many deities have been depicted in queer relationships within ancient myths, so it's not uncommon at all. I personally just suggest reaching out to whichever deity you feel the strongest pull towards. Who is the most appealing to? Who does your heart lean towards? Even if they don't have a specific domain in love, I think it's ultimately a better choice to go with the deity you feel the greatest connection to.
I hope this helped, and I wish you luck on your journey! Remember that being queer is a beautiful thing to be. Your sexuality and experience are valid. The feelings you have are entirely normal, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with them. Have a good day/night. 🧡
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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag
A set of 20 questions to get to know your oc! I was tagged by @matchalovertrait and @simmenycricket. thank you so much! since we're days away from starting his generation, i'm going to be doing this with Reuben in mind.
What uncommon/common fear do they have? Contrary to popular belief, Reuben is not scared of death and is actually quite fascinated by it. He is fearful though of his own mind and how it's wired to undervalue his own life and reality. He's so hyper-aware of how life is so fleeting and arbitrary that it's pushed him toward understanding the concept of mortality (and exploring the possibility that immortality might be out there in some other supernatural realm). So, to answer the question without getting too deep into it, Reuben's big fear is his own brain.
Do they have any pet peeves? People who say "no offense" because they almost always mean full offense.
What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? His phone, a record player, a dusty old book.
What do they notice first in a person? Reuben notices body language and eye contact first. He is very intuitive and can glean how comfortable people are in a situation, and he usually finds the least comfortable looking person and tries to keep them company.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Emotional pain? 8/10. Physical pain? he may be a rancher's son, but he's a baby -- 4/10.
Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Under pressure, Reuben goes into flight and retreat and hide out in his room mode. But recent events involving an ex-boyfriend who shall not be named have made him more resilient. He's got a little more fight in him now than he did as a teenager.
Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? He grew up mostly raised by his mom, but his dad has always been present in his life. He'd say he's close to both of them. While he was in high school, his parents had a surprise pregnancy so he has a much, much younger brother.
What animal represents them best? A cat for the introspection and for being deeply perceptive. Or a humpback whale -- for the introversion and the appreciation for music.
What is a smell that they dislike? Reuben doesn't really like floral scents like lilies or carnations because they remind him too much of childhood memories of accompanying his mom to the funeral home.
Have they broken any bones? One time, he climbed the windmill at their ranch and he fell and broke his arm. And no broken bones, but he did get a nasty bruise on his behind after he fell off Maple.
How would a stranger likely describe them? Some would say softboi; others would say babygirl.
Are they a night owl or a morning bird? Night owl, which is exactly why he needs to get out of the ranch and its squealing-goat wake up calls.
What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Growing up with a professional chef as his mom opened Reuben's palate to a lot of good food. He's always been an easy eater, but a flavor he hates is liver. He can't stand the texture! As for a flavor he loves, it's garlic!
Do they have any hobbies? Playing the piano and reading vampire tomes and fantasy novels. He also swam in high school although he was no star athlete like his mom was.
Boom, surprise birthday party!How do they react to surprises? He would be so appreciative to the person who threw the party (either his mom or his best friend, Winona). He would probably hate being the centre of attention though. But he'll put on a brave face and try his best to make sure everyone is having a good time.
Do they like to wear jewelry? Yes, and I think more now that he's gotten older. He likes to layer silver necklaces. He's also thinking of getting some piercings... and perhaps some ink? Who knows.
Do they have neat or messy handwriting? Legible but messy. A little bit like his handwriting stopped improving in the 3rd grade.
What are two emotions they feel the most? Existential sadness and teenage angst.
Do they have a favorite fabric? Comfy, breathable cotton. Brushed plaid shirts. A vintage leather jacket.
What kind of accent do they have? Chestnut Ridge is in the southwest and people from that area typically don't have a strong southern accent like those from Willow Creek. That being said, compared to almost everywhere else, people from C.R. have a slight twang and a touch of that southern drawl. Reuben will probably say he doesn't have an accent, but someone from the city will definitely say he does.
I tag @wrixie, @dustbon, @natolesims, @druidberries, and @stefsimz. Please feel free to ignore 😊
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personal pet peeve is when animated movies where some characters are american and some are british get a dutch dub but they dont take advantage of the existence of flemish dutch & netherlands dutch and make all of the characters speak netherlands dutch. like we literally have the same "two main accents, at least according to tv land" thing in dutch why not translate that too.....
#im talking ab puss in boots. goldilocks & the bears are Super British in the og dub why not make them flemish it's RIGHT THERE!!!!#also you would only need to create one dub for both countries which i know is suuuper uncommon for movies esp big name ones#but very common in newer childrens tv (for money reasons) so i feel like most kids at least are used to it anyway#but then again i can understand that having a dub with mixed flemish and dutch VAs does have the connotation of cheapness here#in the way that mixed british/american VAs do not so big companies might want to avoid it for that reason. hm#but also i dont care and when a character has a wildly different accent in a movie its usually for a reason so i think dubs should try#and keep that for artistic integrity's sake. peace nd love im right ab this 🫶#personal
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2023 reads // twitter thread
Like A Love Story
historical YA following three teens in 1989 New York amidst the AIDS crisis
a closeted Iranian boy who’s just moved to the city, a young punk activist rebelling against his conservative parents, and his best friend, an aspiring fashion designer
complicated friendships & romance, and revolution
#Like A Love Story#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#ok this i have kind of complicated feelings on?#some aspects i really like some ehh#like just dealing with being queer at that time and the anger and grief of AIDS was. a lot. and done well#though it was quite a white side of it? like obviously an iranian mc but he’s not the one involved in activism stuff#I do appreciate an unapologetically angry character#but the romance was a bit iffy#it kind of instantly has them be into each other for no reason other than being the only other gay person#WHICH TO BE FAIR might be an accurate experience. but they’re very. not in the same place and I don’t think they work together#there is something to be said about being in uncertain times; just clinging to whoever you can to get through things.#and also. in the epilogue they clearly only were together for that brief time#also the girl character is. written a bit like the way men write teen girls#and. so much exploring mouths with tongues. pls. why that phrase#i think just a bunch of things that aren't uncommon in gay boy YA from a few years ago that I don't love#and it was just me grabbing an audiobook i hadn't read before when i ran out#but it was quite moving
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nothin like the chronically ill feeling of being like “huh im havin a lot of unexplained symptoms lately..” so you search it up and the first result is a disorder extremly comorbid with one you already have and one of the literal first thing the article says is “often presents itself and is misdiagnosed as [other chronic illness im diagnosed with] but then after [a length of time very similar to how long ive been diagnosed] it worsens and also gets [exact symptoms i’ve been experiencing] “
#help lol#i hate to sound like a hypochondirac or whatver but if ur also chronically ill you know that doing the reasearch yourself#is imperitive. anyway im looking into it.#i was debating listing the actual diagnoses but i have so many chronically ill followers it might help.#i have eds and have had a diagnosis of ibs for a while ive always seen as questionable.#and lately i think it might be developing into cfs/me.#ive been doing research and its not uncommon for people with cfs/me to be diagnosed with migraines and ibs like i was before their symptoms#develop into what ive been experiencing lately (constant fatigue and sleep disturbances as well as extreme dizziness and vision blurring#when i sit and stand up.)#if anyone has experience with that pls let me know! im figuring it out and its making me very nervous!#finding out the relation to my own diagnoses was really important.#ive known ive had eds for like fiveish years but i didnt rlly tell anyone. bc i was scared that i was making it up#and now its been affirmed by a proffessional its helpful#but i still have so many unexplained symptoms and its scaring me
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I'm very fun in games, this is how I tell GMs to run amok with my PCs' interaction with the world
#this character is also lowkey warlock saul gooman so like. if he doesn't have many many skeletons in his closet I'm not doing it right#this reminded me that i hate the complaint that dnd is too adversarial between the players and DM#like i don't think a GM should apologize for giving my PCs Problems#that's....... that's the point#what are you DOING otherwise#it's a GAME#the most fun part of being the GM is BUILDING the problems! if i don't get to go hard into one character i wanna cause problems!#and if you're a player who's an asshole about that idk what you're doing! that's the point of games!#like if you can't recognize that the GM is creating obstacles for your enrichment then like.... idk go read through the ao3 fluff tag.#anyway i don't think this is that uncommon of a player vibe#but also i have seen GMs online lamenting that they have a genuinely adversarial relationship with their players cuz of how 5e is#and I'm just like...... if your players are mad cuz you built a hard monster for their high level PCs to fight they might just be assholes#or you failed to discuss and set reasonable expectations as a group??? like one or the other#this was not the point of this but anyway. this is the correct way to play dnd. give that sad little man a problem.#many problems in fact.
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the thing is i do get genuinely kinda rly curious abt if this specfic thing my parents did when i was younger is. well regardless i think its fucked up but if its like a somewhat regular occurrence in childhood tht other ppl have experienced or its a like. wtf what do u mean they said tht to you type thing but the thing is iv never bought it up in any convo bc ive always been scared of immediately bringing the mood down if its the second
#well im already bringing it up here anyway so ig i might aswell ask#um mutuals and followers :#is it weird if ur parents threatened to stop the car nd drop you of on the side of the road when they got upset with you or it normal ?#ALSO LIKE. REGARDLESS IF ITS A COMMON THING IK ITS AFUCKED THING TO SAY BUT LIKE.#idk yk is it a common fucked up thing ppl say to their kids or uncommon and concerning fucked up thing for parents to say to their kids#also again if it the second sorryy for bringing the mood down um#the thing is i have literally spent yearss thinking this was a common experince like i only wondered if it isnt recently#like yk the vine thts like 'i shoulda left u on tht street corner were u were standing' 'BUTCHA DIDNT!!'#for ages i misheard the first bit so i thought i was a weird saying this nd didnt think anything of it#bc like i tohught this was such a common experince !!!#so like. idk im also like. yk all the emotions i have abe my parents nd stuff w them abt this#but im alos just want to know if this is a common exprince nd stuff yk#also um. yea i shld prob tag this post as stuff. i just geuinly dont know what#um#ask 2 tag#flappy rambles
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Girl back home
Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader
Warnings: cursing (I think)
Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this
Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)
Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)
“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.
If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.
“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.
Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”
Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”
“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”
Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.
In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.
You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.
You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.
When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.
Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.
But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.
Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.
“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.
“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.
Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”
Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”
Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”
Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”
Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.
Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.
“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.
“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.
“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.
Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”
Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”
“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.
“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”
Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”
“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.
“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”
The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.
“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.
You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.
“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.
Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”
You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”
“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.
Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”
You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.
“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.
“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”
“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah?” Logan grins.
You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”
Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”
You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”
The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.
His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.
“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.
“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.
You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”
Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”
“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.
“This late?”
You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”
Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”
You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.
“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.
“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.
By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.
You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.
“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.
You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”
Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”
You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.
You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.
Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.
You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.
“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.
He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”
You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.
He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”
“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.
He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”
You just laugh joyously.
A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.
You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.
You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.
You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.
He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.
Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.
Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.
You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.
“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.
“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.
You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”
He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”
He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”
You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.
You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”
Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.
You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.
"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.
"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.
"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.
You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.
Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.
“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.
You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”
Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”
You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”
Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”
“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.
Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”
“Tell him that.”
You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.
Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”
“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.
Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”
“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”
Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”
Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.
Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.
As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.
You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.
The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.
He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.
“Thank you for being here. I love you.”
You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”
He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.
Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.
He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.
He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.
“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.
“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.
“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.
Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”
Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.
“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”
“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”
Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.
Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.
“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.
“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”
Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.
When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.
Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.
Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.
——————————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
#scheduled#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau#logan sargeant x fem!reader#logan sargeant x you#logan sargent x reader#logan sargeant x reader
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People keep telling me my life is interesting and how I’m doing this as if I live every day thrilled and in awe of my achievements no bitch my days are literally just as boring as yours
#I do circus you go swimming we both get up and go to our locations and do sports#I grew up with this this isn’t new or exciting for me this is my normal#it sounds like a novelty but it’s really not#it’s just uncommon#(don’t get me wrong tho I love doing this it’s my entire life)#also playing the cello#like oooo niche instrument#I picked this thing up like other people do a guitar#I know a lot of people who play the cello#it’s really not as exciting as you might think#I do realize I’m privileged to be doing these things#but I think if I was on like a swimming team and played the guitar I’d be privileged too#bc ppl pay for both of those things
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My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Starry Eyes
Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: None (yet ;))
“Starry eyes
What can I do for your attention.”
Summary: Theodore’s late to class but Snape blessed him with the opportunity of sitting next to a cute Ravenclaw who’s no help at all.
1 >
--------------------
Clockwise or counterclockwise?
You honestly didn’t even know anymore. No matter how many hours you spent on reading the thick potions textbook or wasting bottles after bottles of ink on notes you still barely passed the class.
You were starting to get a headache from trying to picture the text in your head. Everything was starting to become foggy. You sat down, defeated, and began doodling on the parchment instead of writing detailed instructions on how to make the stupid potion. So much for a Ravenclaw.
Hmm off shoulder or puffed sleeves?
You bit your lip trying to decide which option would look better on the dress you sketched out. The classroom was calming with little chattering among your classmates in the back allowing you to work easier. You could never work or do anything in silence, it drove you crazy.
Suddenly the door slammed open causing you to jump a bit in your seat.
“Nice of you to join us Mr. Nott, although your presence was expected half an hour ago,” Snape drawled out in his infamous monotone voice.
“Sorry I overslept,” he shrugged while adjusting his tie. Some students who were listening in laughed. With his messed up tie and ‘burn marks’ on his neck, it was clear that he was definitely doing more than just sleeping.
Snape nodded and pointed at the empty seat next to you, not surprising anyone that he didn’t take away any house points from his house.
Theodore eyed you as he walked towards your table. He would’ve preferred sitting with his house, but he could never pass up the chance to sit next to a pretty girl. White blouse with a lace neckline and sleeves, black plaid skirt, Ravenclaw tie, black sleek hair, and a white headband. You didn’t fit into the usual type of girls he went for, but you were cute.
Theodore took the seat next to you before tapping on your shoulder.
You turned to him and almost jumped when you found his eyes on you. Gorgeous blueish grayish eyes.
So pretty, this might be my new favorite color.
“So uh,” Theo cleared his throat ignoring the fact that he swore he just saw your eyes sparkle, “what are we doing?”
You blinked. Under the pressure of a somewhat attractive boy it made your memory much worse.
“Umm, we’re brewing a potion and writing?”
You had hoped that didn’t come out as a question and hoped that he’d just nod and ask someone else.
Theodore raised an eyebrow and glanced at your blue tie again.
“Which potion exactly?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were lying to him.
“Antidote to potions. Wait, no poisons. The common one. Wait, maybe the uncommon ones. Well I don’t think there’s a big difference. I mean, shouldn’t the uncommon ones be stronger and still fix the common ones?” You rambled on, looking off to the side lost in your own thoughts.
Theodore blinked. The sorting hat rarely makes errors, maybe you were high but then again Lovegood’s also a Ravenclaw. The looney population in Ravenclaw must be high.
“Why can’t they just make a super strong potion that fixes every poison? That’d make our jobs easier and we wouldn’t have to memorize so many potions,” you giggled as you turned back to your sketches.
Theodore looked over your shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of your paper but instead your sketches caught his eye. You may be no help in potions, but you sure can draw.
“Are you going to make that?” He asked while you squirmed at the close proximity of his face to yours.
“Yes,” you mumbled shyly, scared of the criticism that might follow. You loved designing and fashion. It was one of the only things that came naturally to you, but coming from a family of doctors you were vulnerable to criticism for not following in their path.
“Cute,” he said before his eyes found your potions paper.
Common poisons. Theodore noticed that you only had half the page completed and chuckled.
He got up towards the ingredients cabinet and grabbed his ingredients and the ones you were missing.
Potions came easy to him. Not only did the teacher bias his house, but his mother was a skilled potions maker as well. Matter of fact her entire side of the family were. He had spent most of his summers in his manor reading journals of potion experiments and advanced information that weren’t even in his school textbooks.
He quickly prepared his ingredients and started on his potion while continuing yours on the side. Luckily you were both in the back and Snape couldn’t catch him. He wrote down his notes and instructions making a mental note to tell you to copy them down later. You’d need it.
Maybe he was also placed in the wrong house. Today, Hufflepuff seemed more fitting. You were lucky that you’re cute.
#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#draco malfoy x reader#hogwarts oc#hogwarts au#harry potter#slytherin#ravenclaw#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#theodore nott#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#hp fandom#hp fanfic
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There's this idea, fairly common in society, that mental illness is for teens and up. Children are happy little creatures, generally, right? Sometimes they're abused and the trauma can make them mentally ill, but that's not common.
There are two fundamental problems with this attitude. One, it's incorrect to assume that trauma is the only reason a young kid can be mentally ill. Two, trauma is more common than people think. I'll be covering the first problem in this post through the lens of my particular experience.
Where I live, you can be diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old. You cannot be diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a minor. This poses a problem because my age of onset was in first grade, roughly six years old. Because of the fact that I was very young and new to the world, this was also the age of my first suicide attempt. Thinking I wouldn't be able to pass a spelling test genuinely felt like something worth trying to die over. So, I ate some hemlock, since I'd read about Socrates being killed with it. Luckily, I ate western hemlock, an unrelated species, and just felt kind of sick.
I'm not recounting that for fun or pity. I'm recounting it because children with mental illness are in genuine danger because they have little to no experience with managing their emotions, have little to no concept of the idea that their life can change and improve, and are dismissed by adults. I told a teacher that the test made me want to die, though not that I'd attempted to, and it was brushed off as little kid hyperbole. If I had used a method that was effective rather than one I thought would be, I would have been dead at six years old.
I would not receive medication that worked even a bit for another two years. I would not receive treatment for bipolar disorder specifically for ten years, and that required my PCP fudging the reason for the medication because she was afraid I would die if she didn't, and diagnosis was still two years off at minimum. I received a formal diagnosis at age 19, thirteen years after onset.
But surely that's uncommon, right? This story is a huge edge case, right? I actually have no idea, because age of onset and age of diagnosis are massively conflated for most disabilities. Policies like the one in my area that restricted bipolar diagnoses by age can artificially raise the age of "onset", in my case by thirteen years. The general idea that children are somehow immune to mental illness can also delay diagnosis by several years, perpetuating the idea that young children can't be mentally ill. The data on when people start experiencing mental illness is inherently skewed upwards, and I frankly don't have a good estimate on how bad that skew is. If anyone does have that data, please chime in.
Listen to children. If they're saying they're sad all the time, that they don't care about anything, that they don't see a future for themselves, those are signs of depressive symptoms. If they say that tests make them feel sick, that they can't do anything because they're scared, that they can't breathe and freeze up, those are signs of anxious symptoms. Many children talk about imaginary things, and that's just fine, but slip in a question or two about them to make sure that the kid is just playing, and not experiencing psychosis.
Children are new to the world and vulnerable, and they don't know what's normal and what isn't. They need people who are more experienced watching out for problems they might be having, and listening when they talk about having problems. If you can, try to be the person who perceives them, and tells them that things can be better.
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It Just Hits Different When It’s Batman
5 times a League member heard Batman use slang + 1 time they knew where the fuck he got it from.
This fic is based off this post by @wednesday-if-it-was-tuesday bc it was just too good! Hope you don't mind :D
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: none
~~~~~
1. Flash
Barry is pretty sure he has to get his hearing checked as he speeds through a city, trying to find a series of bombs, courtesy of a new alliance of villains. He and Batman are on bomb duty, thus sharing a private com line as to not distract the others or be distracted as they coordinate.
However, Barry is very much distracted by his own partner in this whole mess, because unless he’s gotten a few too many hits to the head in recent years, he’s pretty sure Batman just reported: “The bombs look like yassified thermos flasks.”
“What?” Barry chokes, nearly tripping over his own feet as he does.
Batman doesn’t seem to notice, instead explaining the bomb, not his wording: “The casing looks to be made from plastic, likely to escape Superman’s notice. Start checking water pipes, I found this one near a toilet. I’ll report again once I figure out how to disarm it.”
Okay, questing his sanity later, finding bombs, now.
So he zooms off again, having to agree with the fact that the bomb does look like a yassified thermos flask. He wonders if he can use that in his report or if Batman will scold him for language. He has worked with the man for long enough that he knows Batman isn’t above hypocrisy.
Then he wonders again if he even heard it right. In the heat of battle, the brain sometimes does weird things, especially when someone thinks at the speed of light. Or faster.
He’ll put it out of his mind for now, maybe tell Hal about it just so he’ll have someone to share the bizarre experience with.
Clark probably has a thesaurus, he should probably also find a synonym for yassified. Does a thesaurus have slang too?
2. Green Lantern
It’s true that Barry had told him about Spooky saying yassified in that one battle, but Hal hadn’t truly believed that Bats was capable of something like that. I mean, look at him. The guy might be a weirdo who dresses up as a Bat, but he’s not a weirdo who says shit like yassified.
However, at the moment it is starting to look more and more likely. Fuck, Barry is gonna give him so much crap for not believing him.
The moment in question is Batman working with him on the stealth mission. It’s one for the Green Lantern Corps, so Batman is doing him a favor. Though Hal is starting to wish that he hadn’t done him that favor, because Batman has just said: “It looks like Luthor is being thristy for Superman again. For someone who hates the guy, he sure wants his attention a lot. That’s Kryptonian honing device.”
Hal doesn’t react, still thinking about the fact that he’s just heard Luthor, thirsty and Superman in one sentence. In Batman’s voice no less.
“What?” he says.
“A Kryptonian honing device,” Batman repeats, sounding as if he thinks Hal is stupid, not uncommon. “So he can hone in on Superman, find him. Something we need to do something about.”
Hal decides to take the smart way out and lets the whole thing drop in favor of focusing on the mission. He’s not just telling Barry, but Ollie about this as well.
3. Cyborg
Being in the Justice League isn’t much different than being on the Teen Titans. Like right now, being in a building that could explode at any moment unless he hacks into the system and stops that from happening.
Ah, good old life-threatening pressure.
Batman is fighting some of the goons in the background. They’re on their own here, with the others fighting through an army outside to get to them. But it’s mostly up to them. Batman yells: “Cyborg, status.”
“I’m getting through, but something is bugging me about this whole thing,” Victor calls back. “I think there is someone I’m missing that will allow me to crack this.”
There are a few grunts in the background as Batman fights on, while Victor starts to scan through everyone who worked for the organization, trying to find the missing link.
He is interrupted by Batman, who says: “I took a tour here once. There was an intern, Kyle Paulson, he was kind of sus. Look him up.”
For a second, Victor is thrown by the sus in that sentence, but he quickly focuses back on what’s important. Indeed finding Kyle to be the missing link that gets him to disarm the bomb. While Batman is taking out the last of the bad guys.
In fact, the whole thing slips his mind until he’s writing his mission report, going through the footage to get accurate information in there. Then he pauses again, before dismissing it. Those who trained under Batman are always prepared, maybe it’s not slang but shorthand to be useful in the moment. Or he’s trying to include him, sweet, though unnecessary.
Victor puts it out of his mind.
4. Green Arrow
Ollie doesn’t believe Barry or Hal for a second. Like, really? Batman using slang that the sidekicks are using?
Sure, Nightwing sometimes uses some here and there, but Red Robin is always very professional and Robin is closer to a Shakespearean actor than a TikTok teen. There isn’t anyone else he could have gotten it from and it doesn’t make sense with his whole ‘I am the Night’-persona.
Victor suggested it was to make the newbies more comfortable when he overheard them talking, but that’s even more ridiculous in Ollie’s opinion.
So, he’s not at all in the slightest prepared for Batman’s reaction when he shows him the new arrows he developed. Because Batman’s reaction is: “Hm, serves cunt.”
“Excuse me, what?” Ollie says, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.
Batman just stares at him, then in a confused sort of voice goes: “You know, it slays? It’s, you know, good? Positive.”
“Huh, what? No, I- I know what that means. How the fuck do you know?” Ollie splutters.
“I’m Batman,” is all he says. Then he walks away and leaves Ollie to stand there, still frozen in time, because what the hell was that? Batman can’t just do that, can he? That’s illegal. How does he even know that?
What Ollie doesn’t know, is that this was a calculated move. Bruce had overheard the three talking as well and decided to have a little fun. All the times before, it just slipped out in the heat of battle, but this one was purposeful.
Bruce knows Ollie would know what it meant, because billionaires Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen have done TikTok trends in the past and try to keep up to date, despite their age. Not that Ollie knows it’s him under there.
And last gala, he left Bruce for the wolves – Vicky Vale – so now Bruce is dealing psychological damage to him as petty revenge.
5. Superman (and Practically the Entire League)
They’re in a meeting with most of the Justice League members that are present on earth at the moment. It’s not often they hold such meetings, since they are a little overwhelming and tend to drag on more than be productive.
However, Clark thinks it’s important to ensure there are avenues through which ever member can state their piece and be heard. So, here they are again.
Booster Gold is complaining about always being on the sidelines and never in the heat of the action, even though he’s a great hero. He’s claiming that there is a bias against younger heroes, despite the fact that the ‘old guard’ will have to give it up eventually.
Apparently, Batman has had enough, because he gets up and snaps: “We don’t have bias based on age, we have one based off skill. Maybe if you stopped abandoning your post and being someone reliable, you might get put out in the field more often. Now stop being salty about it.”
It’s silent.
Clark is scrambling his brain, to figure out the meaning. As a journalist he tries to stay up to date on current language use, however, the only person he’s heard use that word is Jon. The boy never explained, but Clark guessed what it means. Doesn’t explain why Batman knows it.
Then the silence gets broken by a snort, everyone’s head whipping towards the source. It’s Nightwing, a newer addition and one affiliated with Batman himself. The only one there brave enough to laugh at Batman, mirthfully asking: “Did you actually say salty?”
There is no change on Batman’s face, but as a longtime friend, Clark knows he isn’t emotionless. Indeed, when he listens close, he can hear the blood rush to his face, blush hidden by the cowl.
“That was not the point of the sentence, Nightwing,” Batman counters, the name a little bit pointed on is tongue.
“Okay, okay,” Nightwing grins easily, showing his hands in surrender, an act which is made null by him adding: “Just pointing out that this is an official meeting. You’re on the record and you know I’m reporting this to the others.”
Red Robin and Robin, Clark fills in mentally, the other two known associates. Everyone already guessed that Nightwing must be close to them as well, since the younger two are closer to being Batman’s children. Now that is confirmed.
“Thank you for reminding me,” Batman says tersely, before quickly pivoting to the next point on the agenda. No one calls him out for it.
However, just because no one calls him out on it, doesn’t mean they drop it. In the weeks after the incident, whispers make their way through the halls of the Watchtower as people speculate why or how Batman came to use the word salty and how out of character it is.
Clark can hear the gossip all over the Watchtower and he’s sure Batman is aware of it too, because some brave souls have asked about. Especially when some of the others talked about the incident not being the first one.
Batman hasn’t replied yet to any of the questions or rumors. Clark thinks he likes the mystery and chaos, likes that they don’t know why the hell he sometimes lets slang slip. Even Nightwing has been seemingly silenced, never commenting with a sort of professional ease at evasion.
Nightwing is the only clue they have, along with Robin and Red Robin, but none of them seem like the culprit.
It just doesn’t make sense and Clark can’t help but have his reporter brain itch.
+1. The Batfamily
There is going to be an attack somewhere in a major city in America tonight. They cannot figure out where, so there is a nation wide stake out at all the important places. Nearly the entire Justice League has been pulled out for it and even then they don’t have enough.
Batman insists on having a skeleton crew remain on the Watchtower in case the threat turns out to be a distraction. And when it is protested, he pulls out an army of associates none of them have ever heard about to fill out the last gaps in their observational net.
The sudden introduction of about six new Gotham vigilantes, which have apparently been operating inside the city as well as outside of it, would have been the main shock if it weren’t for how they are on coms.
Red Robin and Nightwing are known as professionals like Batman, while Robin isn’t a known entity in missions, though those who have met him, know him to be serious. However, with the introduction of the others all of that professionalism melts away.
It starts about 45 minuted into their mission when Spoiler’s voice suddenly crackles over the coms: “I fucking hate stake outs, they’re so boring.”
“I know right, my ass is starting to hurt,” Red Robin – to everyone’s surprise – replies.
“No chatter on the coms,” Batman dutifully reproaches like he always does, but he sounds less stern this time. It’s as if he knows they won’t listen, but says it because it’s his role to do so.
Red Hood ignores Batman completely, idly commenting: “I don’t know, stake outs always hit different for me.”
“That’s just because you’re boring AF,” Spoiler says, an eyeroll practically audible.
“Oi, take that back,” Red Hood says, offended. “I didn’t die to have you slander my name like that!”
This is horrifying news for most of the other people stuck on the coms, however, there is a cacophony of annoyed groans as well. Why anyone would be so blasé about someone mentioning their death, they don’t know.
Until, Robin says: “Cease mentioning your death as excuse. It’s unbecoming to be so reliant on one measly event. You’re not the only one who has died, don’t be – what was it? – ah, yes, don’t be basic, Hood.”
“Yeah, Hood, don’t be salty just because you’re becoming a boring old man,” Red Robin pipes up, sounding smug. That solves the salty mystery.
“Shut up, Replacement,” Red Hood huffs. “I can talk about my death as much as I want to and you can’t stop me.”
“Hood, please, stop talking about your death, you’re going to make B sad,” Nightwing suddenly interjects, stopping the conversation before it can get out of hand.
Those with super hearing will hear Barry mutter in a shocked manner: “Is he talking about Batman?” But he is overshadowed by most of the newly introduced (and already) known Bat-associates booing loudly.
“Don’t be a fucking suck up, Dick” Spoiler hollers, only those in the know picking up on the fact it’s his name. It’s the only time Batman won’t correct them, because not everyone will know it’s a name unless it’s pointed out.
“Periodt,” the quiet voice of Black Bat supports Spoiler.
“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, BB,” Spoiler cheers when she hears the other girl.
“That was the correct usage?” Black Bat asks.
“It was, well done,” Oracle’s kind voice comes over the coms, from where she is in her lair helping with coordination.
After that it all quiets down again for about half an hour, then Bluebird breaks the quiet again, complaining: “I can’t believe I had to stay behind in Gotham of all places.”
“You live there. Willingly,” Signal answers. “And I had to stay behind too, you know.”
“They’re sleeping on us, Signal, be upset with me,” Bluebird exclaims, indignantly.
“Okay, but tea though,” Spoiler says, most of the Justice League listening in are starting to learn she likes stirring the pot a little.
“Don’t be a simp, Spoils,” Red Robin says.
“Oh, look who’s talking about being a simp,” Red Hood snorts loudly. “I observed you, loser boy, you’re the simp.”
“It’s not as much of the serve you think it is to admit to stalking me,” Red Robin deadpans.
“RR, not to be that bitch, but you’re the OG stalker, maybe- maybe don’t do that,” Nightwing says cautiously, which is apparently funny enough that multiple people start laughing.
Meanwhile Red Robin complains: “Stop laughing at me, when I did it was totally different, I didn’t plan on killing any of you.” Which is mildly disturbing
“Oi, I never planned to actually kill you-kill you either,” Red Hood protests, even more disturbing. The Justice League is starting to wonder why Batman works with the man.
“Stop with the chatter,” Batman interjects again, before it can go further. “It’s not just us on the com lines now. At least try to be professional.”
And much to the horror of the League, who could never imagine doing such a thing, Batman gets booed. Again. This time directly.
Then to add to the horror, Batman doesn’t explode in anger, like everyone would have imagined, instead he just sighs. Defeated. Batman is like a cockroach, he doesn’t get defeated. However, these kids are managing.
Batman remains defeated too, because the Gotham vigilantes continue to idly chat all throughout the next hour. They are definitely bat associated, because they never reveal any information that could be tied to their civilian identity. Instead discussing other missions, general news, funny things they saw on patrol and personal grievances with the others on the line.
If this is what Batman deals with on the day to day, some are starting to see why he would prefer the heroes of the Justice League to keep their mouths shut on missions unless it’s important.
Most try to tune it out and focus on their own stake out, though the voices keep them awake. But they notice when Spoiler’s voice suddenly becomes serious as she reports: “Sus individuals moving towards the Mayor’s office.”
“Received, getting visual on your location,” Oracle’s voice replies, also snapped back into professionalism.
Spoiler reports their appearances and currently location, until Oracle has them, running a check on them, before confirming they have a criminal record and might be thugs for hire. Spoiler says: “I am going to move in.”
Batman says: “Do not engage, Spoiler, they could be a decoy. Try and get more information first.”
“Alright, alright,” Spoiler huffs. Then adds petulantly: “I’m not gonna do it, I was just thinking about it.”
Which sounds pretty reasonable for most listening in, who aren’t of the right age group to know the meme. Batman, however, does know, because he’s been subjected to it multiple times. So, he yells: “Spoiler, no!” startling some members.
A second later, there are sounds of a fight and Spoiler gleefully saying: “I did it.”
Batman lets out a frustrated growl, but Spoiler pays it no mind and she can’t truly get chewed out, because more and more start to report suspicious individuals moving in on the targets they’re watching.
Within minutes of it starting, Nightwing reports: “They’re decoys with targets. Not the main attack, but will do damage if they succeed.”
“Everyone make sure to take out the decoys,” Batman says. “Those without decoys, keep your eyes peeled, you might be at the real target.”
“Done with my targets, moving to help the others now,” Nightwing reports seriously, before he adds: “And can I just say that I’m the GOAT. Dibs on cookies for finishing first.”
“Okay, shade much,” Bluebird says.
“Don’t be arrogant, it’s unbecoming,” Robin retorts as well.
“Yeah, stop flexing,” Spoiler adds. “I’ve wrapped up too, by the way. You’re not special.”
“Let me have this,” Nightwing complains. “You already took all my shit, let me be cool. You all used to think I was cool.”
“Yeah, used to,” Red Hood scoffs. “Then we all realized you’re a looser.”
“Ha, get wrecked,” Red Robin snorts.
“Baby bird, wasn’t I your favorite?” Nightwing asks hurt, though over the top enough to show he is faking it.
“No, sadly, that was Hood,” Red Robin replies, sounding a little like he’s grimacing.
“No cap?” Red Hood asks, surprised.
“No cap,” Red Robin confirms.
“Now I feel kind of bad for you,” Red Hood says, before some bullets are fired. “Wrapped up here, moving to help.”
Red Robin seems glad to not have to reply and none of the other Gothamites do either. With what the League has heard so far, they’re also kind of happy the topic is being dropped, unsure what to think.
Batman’s associates are among the first ones cleaning up, however, soon others are joining them and the true battles grounds – yes, there are multiple targets, these people are organized (Batman will likely obsess until he has tracked down their organization afterwards) – are discovered and heroes move in to fight them.
Throughout the battle, everyone catches snippets of this strange, newly introduced group. A group, who works well together, like an oiled machine, yet obviously made up of highly competent parts that can act on their own as well.
Like Black Bat calling out: “Red Hood, yeet,” before those fighting alongside them see Red Hood boost her into the air, so she can come flying at the terrorists.
But they also make comments about the people they’re fighting and the others that are fighting alongside them.
Signal calling out: “Bluebird is pulling some sick ass moves. Another one for her on the slay-board, Oracle.”
Or Spoiler commenting: “Okay, not to be like that or whatever, but these terrorists are kind of looking snatched.”
To which Batman sighs: “Spoiler, please, no chatter,” in a vain attempt to get them under control.
“What?” Spoiler says. “I can appreciate when they’ve at least tried to pull a fit instead of that usual para-military, ninja type BS.”
“Go off,” Black Bat pipes up again and Spoiler cheers while Batman drops it. Defeated again.
They also check in on each other, with Red Robin hissing in pain, which is immediately followed by Nightwing going: “RR, you good, fam?”
“Gucci,” Red Robin replies. “Just low-key got stabbed.”
“There’s nothing low-key about getting stabbed!” Nightwing exclaims, getting called a hypocrite by many people, while Batman is already calling for Oracle to get a visual and for a medic to head Red Robin’s way.
By the time the battle is over, the Justice League understands how different the team is that Batman usually works with. If they were surrounded by heroes who talked like that continuously, they would have probably picked up some things here and there too.
Still, it fucking weird when Batman checks over his horde, before declaring: “You were all lit out there,” causing multiple of the kids around him to groan loudly, with Bluebird calling Batman a boomer.
Clark, however, sees a small uptick in Batman’s mouth. And in that moment, he knows Batman is doing it on purpose, that he’s enjoying it. That he’s fucking with them. He doesn’t know what to do with that, nor does he think that anyone will believe it. So, he decides to share the amusement and drop it.
They’re never going to figure out Batman.
~~
A/N:
This work is going to get dated so so so fast lmao, but it’s fun rn (if ur commenting in the future, welcome to outdated slang vibes from someone who wasn’t that up to date with current slang when writing it, bc im secretly a grandpa).
Hopefully I didn’t overdo it to an unrealistic degree, but if I did, such is the story that was being told oops
Also this whole fic is just an excuse for me to write batfam banter bc I love it lmao
I didn’t include Batwing, Batwoman and Flamebird here, sorry, but writing the batfam is always so hard bc there are so many characters T-T
#rr writing#batman#justice league#jl#jla#dc#dc comics#batfamily#batfam#bruce wayne#dick grayson#nightwing#barbara gordon#oracle#jason todd#red hood#cassandra cain#black bat#stephanie brown#spoiler#tim drake#red robin#harper row#bluebird#duke thomas#signal#signal dc#damian wayne#robin#robin dc
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Was it hard to start posting about Lackadaisy and did you ever find it really challenging to find an audience? I want to post about my own project but I’m intimidated to say the least.
It's always been a conflict, somewhere between desperately wanting to share it in my buzzing excitement, and also desperately wanting to hide under the sofa with all of my cringey ideas.
Having spoken to other artists about their feelings about their own projects, it seems that's not an uncommon sentiment. It's just a matter of which side will eventually win out. (I don't regret releasing my cringey ideas into the wild, for the record.)
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Finding an audience is a whole other challenge, especially now as everything is so compartmentalized, platform to platform. But, honestly, maybe it helps alleviate some debut anxiety if not that many people will immediately have their eyes on your work.
Generally, I think it's probably best to just work with whichever social media spaces you're most comfortable in. Don't worry too much about being everywhere all at once - it's maddening. You can branch out gradually if need be. You might also consider setting up your own basic website to act as a hub, because you never know which social media company will suddenly pull the rug out from under you.
Be patient. Don't dump a bunch of energy into trying to go viral or something. Slow and steady growth is generally more meaningful and sustainable anyway. Keep putting your work out there, even if it feels sometimes like no one is looking. If you're having a ton of fun making it regardless of who's watching, chances are pretty good some people are going to start having fun reading it/looking at it too.
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