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silvia7272 · 5 years ago

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ML Salt ~ The Cardigan Story

This is based on a true story.

Honestly, I always remembered this story because it constantly made my Sister and Mum laugh when I told them I outed a liar at school by wearing a cardigan, they were so proud of me because what I did wasn’t mean and I wasn’t even doing it out maliciousness so I thought, hey why not put it in the ML universe?

This isn’t canon to my main series so no Rosina since there isn’t any need for her, sorry sweetie.

And since I doubt Mlle Bustier would never out Lila, I’m changing the teacher to someone who actually has a backbone.

Word Count: 2303

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, @more-or-less-human-i-guess, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

I know you may not wish to be tagged for one-shots, but I thought you might enjoy some salt I was able to come up with.

Also, I wrote this in one day so I’m extremely proud of myself.

***

If you told Marinette that Lila’s reign over the school would end over a cardigan, she would tell you you’re as crazy as she was about Adrien.

A lot.

But, she did just that.

She had to thank Adrien really, the ‘advice’ he gave her was what really pushed her.

She wouldn’t outright expose her, no, she had tried that before and look where that got her, near expulsion that’s what. And not one of her friends tried to stick up for her. She always remembered that glare Alix gave her, and since then she had been ignored, turned away by them.

Even after Lila came out with ‘the truth’ she was still seen as an overly jealous girl.

“Lila’s promised she hasn’t lied about anything else she’s said to us, it only acts up around people she doesn’t know as well, maybe next time, instead of being jealous you should give her a chance and stop being a baby. Girl this all could’ve easily been avoided if you weren’t so Adrien crazy”

Really? They actually believed that load of crap?

Whatever, Marinette was done, done with everyone.

If they wanted to show her how wrong she was then she’d let them wait until hell would frost over, because fat chance that would ever happen.

If Marinette was proud of one thing about her then it would have to be her stubbornness to get to the truth.

And she could be extremely patient.

***

It was just an average day at Collège Françoise Dupont. There weren’t any Akuma’s caused by anyone the previous day so Marinette was finally able to have a good night’s rest, something the exhausted teenager really missed.

She felt so re-energised she danced in the kitchen as she made breakfast without a care in the world.

Before she fell over that was.

“…Owww”

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want to be hurt before school hours, now just sit tight and I’ll get you something to eat,” Her Maman said. Marinette felt grateful. After breakfast, she gave her Parents a kiss before leaving.

She had loving parents that supported her every beck and call.

…Well most of the time, but that didn’t matter, she would never let Lila manipulate them ever, her Parents were off-limits.

By the time she arrived at school she was one of the first ones there, Nathaniel in the back drawing his comics, texting Marc as well, it seemed like he was in his own ‘do not disturb’ bubble. Max was talking to Markov about some new type of game, and Rose and Juleka were just cuddling.

She made her way to the back feeling a positive emotion before exhaling.

Because it was about to be ruined.

Lila walked in with Alya, Nino and Adrien by her side.

She was telling a story about her ‘one of a kind cardigan-

Wait-

“My Grandmother made this cardigan especially for me carving her signature on as well, it’s the only one in existence because shortly after she made this, she ended up being in a terrible accident that left her bedridden.” They pandered to her of course. But for once she wasn’t focusing on the lie but the cardigan.

Oh, Lila’s only gone and done it now.

“I’ve always wanted to wear it, but I didn’t want it to end up ruined by someone” Her gaze casually went up to a lone bluenette, but she really wasn’t bothered.

“Don’t worry girl, I’ll keep a watchful eye on your cardigan for you. Ain't nothing gonna come between me and my besties property” They hugged before sitting down in their spaces.

‘Oh my god, I have a plan’ Marinette had that thought circled around her head until break. It was all she thought of.

Mind you, she wasn’t trying to expose everything she’d done, just that one lie. And that would be enough.

As soon as the bell rang, she was ready, she gathered her stuff and rushed home.

And thank god as well, Lila would not shut up about that cardigan, through Literature, Science and PE, it was constantly my Grandmother made it for me this, it’s the only one of its kind that.

Ugh, she wanted to rip her ears out at some point but had to endure it. No one else was bothered since they all believed her, even the teachers!

Yeah, you don’t really need any proof if it was handmade, some of Marinette’s earlier stuff didn’t have her signature on, but still, it was the principle of the matter!

And she could right that wrong.

In her room she was frantically searching for that item as Tikki dodged different articles of clothing, one hit her as she wasn’t looking, and she was down for the count.

“Marinette what are you looking for?” Marinette paused to look back at Tikki before continuing a bit calmer.

“Lila’s been lying about that cardigan and this time I can prove it.” Her eyes lit up as she lifted a cardigan up from her cupboard.

“One of Maman’s friends gave this to me a few years back, it was one of the reasons I got into fashion because of how soft it is and I wanted to replicate that. Don’t you think it looks familiar?” As Tikki looked over it her eyes widened, she knew Lila was lying anyway but she had no idea Marinette had definitive proof of it.

“That’s the same cardigan Lila has!” Marinette nodded before wearing it.

At least it still fit.

“But Marinette I thought we were gonna take the high ground?”

“Tikki it's tiring having to listen to them being lied too. I may not want them to be my friends anymore, but I just want the lying to stop. If I go and tell them that she’s lying with this as evidence they’ll clearly see she’s lying”

“But outing her like that won’t make it better!” Marinette wished she could respond with ‘are you sure’ but didn’t want to piss the mini-god off.

“Fine, what if I just wear it until someone notices, that way I’m not actively looking to publicly shame her? Better?” Tikki gave a reluctant nod, she knew her chosen wouldn’t let up about the situation, besides this whole thing was really just pettiness, nothing too serious. If no one noticed nothing bad would happen.

“Bye Maman, bye Papa” As she began walking back, she grew a bit nervous with her plan.

What if Lila made a whole other lie about her cardigan? What if she lied that Marinette had stolen it out of jealousy and everyone would try to take hers? She’d have to run away and live with a secret identity, all before getting caught and going to prison, and she’d never have her three kids and her hamster named-

“Ahem Marinette, is thou there?” A hand brought her out of her trance

“Ahhh!” She waved her arms before composing herself and seeing D’Argencourt in front of her.

“Ah, yes Monsieur?” How long had he been standing there? How long had she been rambling in her head?

“As I was saying, these new garments of yours, where did they originate from?” It took her a while before realising he was talking about her cardigan, she was so used to wearing her jacket it felt strange she had changed.

“Ohh this, well it was a present from Maman’s friend. They were on sale a few years back, so I thought I’d wear it again” He furrowed his brow before telling her to carry on with whatever she was doing.

“Well, that was weird. Do you think he liked the jacket?” Tikki ponded as her head ever so slightly popped out the small handbag.

“He’s always been weird Tikki. But whatever, let's just get back to the classroom.” All she had to do was wait.

***

‘How the hell hasn’t anyone noticed yet?’ Marinette was secretly fuming in her mind right now. None of her classmates noticed the change in her outfit.

Not one.

Bustier did however, the bluenette was sure because she’d see her teacher quickly glance from Marinette to Lila but never said a word. Probably thinking of that whole, ‘be the bigger person’ crap.

And not even the excuse of maybe Bustier didn’t know, bs. By the time break happened everyone in the school knew about that damn cardigan so don’t get her started.

‘Oh well, looks like that’s it. My petty revenge came flat… At least Lila didn’t pull a Marinette ruined my belongings stunt’ That would’ve been the last thing she needed.

Knock Knock Knock

The door opened before Bustier could reply, a teacher would reprimand a student for this type of rudeness, but it wasn’t a student.

It was a teacher.

And it was Monsieur D’Argencourt.

‘What the-’ Marinette didn’t remember this part of the plan.

“Excuse me Caline, but I need to interrupt the class for an announcement.” Bustier was about to deny but D’Argencourt the stubborn teacher as he was, walked straight on through ignoring whatever Bustier would’ve said.

“Lila Rossi, may you please step in front of the classroom?” Lila looking completely confused let go off Adrien, much to the relief of the boy, and walked in front of her desk.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He didn’t need to repeat the command.

Yes, command not a request.

“Can I ask you where you got your cardigans from?”

“Armand, I don’t think this is appropriate-” He shot a glare back at the teacher.

“I can assure you this won’t take long if I’m not interrupted”

Lila looked over to Marinette and realised with a sinking feeling what was happening. But she would win this time. Just like all the others.

“My Grandmother made this specifically, you see-”

He held a hand up to silence her.

“Yes, that’s quite alright, and Marinette would you like to repeat what you said before?” As Marinette did just that Lila was seething, he cut her off. How dare that simpleton cut off Lila Rossi!

He would pay.

“Well, it appears one of you is lying, and I expect that person to own up to it now” The class gasped as they all looked expectedly at Marinette, they knew she was petty but to do this was so low.

Lila looked at her smugly, she had tried to play with fire but got burned in the process. How could she even think she’d get away with this?

“I was talking about you, Lila Rossi”

“Eh, what?” The class gasped as they tried to say of course Lila was innocent, Marinette was the one lying. Or that Marinette must’ve tricked him.

He shot a glare towards all the class members as they instantly shut up.

“I don’t remember this being a class discussion, if I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Understood?” They nodded before giving sympathetic glances towards the brunette, D’Argencourt almost had the urge to shout at their incompetence but alas they were kids.

“I can tell you why you are lying Lila, with a photo. But as I’m feeling generous, I will give you one more chance to reveal yourself.” The class was silent as they all looked on in anticipation.

But Lila stood her ground defiantly, as if he actually had proof-

Oh…

Oh no she’s doomed…

“Then I don’t suppose this looks familiar? Hmm?” On his phone was a picture. Lila immediately lowered her head, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

3 guesses of what it is?

No.

No one?

Too easy?

Ok, it was the cardigan.

And at a fairly cheap price. No wonder she had it in brand new condition.

“I first knew you were lying once I saw Marinette wear the exact same one, however, hers was clearly worn out, evidently she has worn it for several amount of years. You had already messed up when you said it was the only one made. So please…” Lila looked up to see D’Argencourt giving one of the most frightening glares of the century.

“Don’t ever lie about anything to my face or anyone ever again, you will be court out and I will be keeping an eye on you. Is that final?” She meekly nodded her head, trying to give a frightened appearance to make him have sympathy but he was immune.

“That will be all. I hope your class has learned a valuable lesson of not taking things at face value” And with that, he left. Leaving Marinette with a different impression of her PE teacher, it seemed he didn’t like liars all that much.

Marinette smiled, her plan worked, and she didn’t even out her herself. Tikki surely can’t be mad at her now.

Bustier tried to get the class to go back to normal but she couldn’t. The class erupted into a screaming fit, asking how Lila could lie about that sort of thing?

It wasn’t until someone unexpected said the next few words she wondered if this was a dream.

“Hey if Lila lied about this what else did she lie about? She even said herself she doesn’t lie to her friends but that was a lie” That made the class tick as they soon realised and soon torn into her about it.

Leaving Lila, a ‘sobbing mess’ on the floor. All before she stopped that fake display and arguing back.

But the one who said that…

Was Adrien.

He was able to slip by the crowd and stand next to Marinette.

No words were said, she knew what he would’ve said even without the noise.

‘I’m sorry’

It was a start, and maybe through time, she could start trusting again.

But for now, she just wanted to enjoy this chaos…

Before there was an Akuma alert.

***

I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt. I probably screwed his speech but oh well this is salt, doesn’t have to be accurate.

Phew, hope you enjoyed it, sorry its shorter than the others but this happened when I was in Year 5 and I was 9/10 years old. Woo 10 years ago, god that makes me feel old. Also, not everything was exactly this way, the teacher did out the person in front of the whole class, but she admitted it and went back to her class, we had two classes for maths. Anyway, I actually have to give Lila credit compared to the liar we had at our school, this person actually knew I had that cardigan and actually complimented me on it like months earlier and still had the audacity to say that. I think that’s the reason why I think if I was in their world I wouldn’t believe Lila because I already had a Lila at my school who would always say they’ve done the exact same thing as we had (They even said they had the same Aunt as me living on the same street, crazy right). Mind you they never said anything to me, I think they were too embarrassed plus, I was a goody little two-shoes there.

Anyway I really hope you enjoy it and if you like real-life stories so much I can always try to ask my friends for more ideas, I did have like some slightly toxic friends there that I may be able to tell you about but I’ll try to think how later.

Cya next time.

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talix18 · 6 years ago

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November 2

I just want a word processing program. I'm not trying to be difficult. A word processing program that will estimate for me how many words I've written. Which requires a computer Operating System to run said program, preferably with an Internet connection in case there are updates to said program. The computer on which I'm typing this is an unknown number of years old. I know I got it when my ex lived with me, and he's been dead for several years.

That's a hazard of loving people in recovery, especially from drug addiction as opposed to alcoholism. The drugs out there are not those of your elders and they are nowhere near as forgiving of overdoses. My ex became my ex when he relapsed. A couple of years later he got some fentanyl with his heroin and it killed him. Drugs are bad, mmkay?

Anyway, the computer. I am...working with an OS that's 10 years old and have 6 gigs of RAM. (That's before I stuck my 2 gig thumb drive in to use as extended memory.) I'm clearly fighting hard for something to write about here. I'd rather get this done early in the day so I don't have to dread it, but writing about myself is almost as tedious as being myself.

Today is a good day, so far. I made it out the door to yoga and got my eyebrows done on the way home. Eyebrow waxing is my only consistent beauty practice. I'd like to keep up with my hair and not just put it up wet every day but let's face it – I'm stingy with my time and money and can't commit to something eight weeks from now. My hair is going gray and makes me look my actual age, which I alternately don't care about and am horrified by. Now I have extra guilt doing home color – my adopted niece graduated from Paul Mitchell hair school and would happily accept my money for getting to practice on my head, but she's located just far enough away to be inconvenient.

Plus getting out of bed is hard enough. I'll gladly take 15 extra minutes to check the Internet that will still be there when I get to work over putting on make-up and drying my hair. Is this about depression, laziness, or feminist resistance to society's expectations? I'd like to have fun with my appearance and my wardrobe but dammit – do I have to start so bless-ed early in the morning?

(This whole “early in the morning thing” is BS, by the way. I learned how quickly I can get myself showered, dressed, and out the door at my most depressed and now resist any attempt to plan further in advance.) Yes, I want to look nice in pictures but I don't want to do the work necessary to achieve that.

This is a theme in my life – there's a lot of things I want to do and be without taking any of the steps that might lead me in the correct direction. Sometimes it's a question of not knowing what those steps might be. Recovery has blessed me with the crazy notion of finding someone who has (or knows how to do) something you want (to know how to do) and ask them how they did it. I'm not sure if this is as mind-blowing to everyone as it was to me. It may be one of those things that falls into the category of “it feels like I missed some fundamental How To Be A Person class that everyone else took.”

This is a common feeling among recovering people. None of us feels like we fit in; everyone else knows something we don't; we are missing some fundamental quality that would have made life fall neatly into place. (Which brings me to the topic of the people who just needed to put the drugs down and be pointed in a productive direction vs. people who are still disasters clean. Guess which group I fall into.) Which reminds me! Last night the Internet gave me the link to an article in Oprah's magazine that describes the midlife-crisis currently hitting the women of Generation X. So this here writing project? Completely unnecessary. But I've set this challenge for myself and I love no motivation like shame and guilt. So I'll keep writing and see what I end up with.

Where was I? Oh – the things I want without wanting to do the work to get them. I've always wanted to play guitar but only enough to take a handful of lessons. My last attempt was valiant – I bought myself a beautiful guitar and showed up pretty consistently for group lessons at a friend's house. After a few months, there was pain in my strumming arm almost constantly. Especially painful were things like gripping the scoop I use to clean litter boxes, which is a thing I try to do every day. I went through physical therapy twice before the pain went away, and it's still not completely gone. My intention is to go to the adorable guitar shop where I bought my guitar (where they also give lessons) and ask someone (who knows how to do something I want to know how to do) if there is a way I should be doing it differently. That has been my intention for many months now.

What is it? What is the problem? 1. Think of a thing to do. 2. DO THE THING. That's it, right? There's not some 1.5 secret step I'm missing? There must be. Unless this is that executive function thing they talk about? There are the things I know I want to do (currently: clearing out yet more of my wardrobe so I can get rid of my TWO broken dressers [why do I have two broken dressers?] and acquire a new piece of storage for my clothing; taking my books off the bookshelves so they can be moved and I can get new flooring and also get rid of some books)(besides the regular stuff like exercise and eat foods that make me look and feel good and learn how to program and garden and oh maybe clean my damn house) and there is the crushing lack of motivation and energy.

(I'm thinking this whole NaNoWriMo thing coincided with an increase in the dosage of one of my meds which has given me a temporary “up” sensation? Like I sat through my laptop trying to repair itself so I could write rather than wandering off and doing something [or nothing] else. Honestly, me getting a thing done sooner rather than later is not a thing. I still haven't emptied the litter boxes from yesterday.)

(It occurs to me at this point to wonder if my expectations aren't set unrealistically high. Hi, my name is Teri and I was in Gifted & Talented classes and was told I had Such Potential, and have done no impressive or soul-fulfilling thing with my life. Welcome to my expectations. Not to mention this existential dread that I didn't even have words for until college when I took philosophy and learned that existentialism is a thing. This is my ONE opportunity to be alive and ultimately the only rules are those I choose to follow and This is what I've done with it? This is my life?)

(Which brings me to capitalism, specifically late-stage capitalism. I was born to the grandchildren of farmers and immigrants without the financial means to pick and choose which hobbies would distract me from my inescapable death. I watched my mother survive two divorces and [unbeknownst to myself] decided that I would be able to take care of myself. I wouldn't depend on anyone else for lodging or food or miscellaneous entertainments; I would do it myself. [This has a lot to do with why I am Single. Unmarried. Don't get too close – you may offer to take care of me and I might weaken and let you and then my guard will be down and then life will have me where it wants me.]

Late-stage capitalism. In which I, a consumer, trade my time and energy for money, which I then trade for comfort, convenience, and distraction from the awareness of my inescapable death. Knowing that, sooner or later, NONE OF THIS WILL MATTER bumps up against my desire to look younger and be attractive and matter in some absolute sense. I have a “safe” government job [thanks, Dad] with good insurance which is a Big Deal when you have a chronic condition like mental illness. I have a small home, a car that's paid for and still runs, and two cats for whom I am responsible. That there are no children is partly on purpose; partly because I never wanted to be a single mom, and partly because I didn't meet their other parent while I was young and foolish enough to consider parenting.)

Where was I? Expectations. In recovery, expectations are set-ups for resentments. Hmm. I may have to think about that. If nothing matters, expectations are silly. There are no shoulds. There Is No Way To Derive An Ought From An Is. (My favoritest of all the things I learned in philosophy.) Except that my best idea, recreational drug use, got me in legal trouble, put everyone else at risk, and (now that they know about it) makes my loved ones worry about my health and well-being. So it benefits all of us that I remain clean. And it increases the likelihood that I'll stay clean if I treat my mental illness, which requires (in this ever more dystopian hellscape) money and/or insurance. Which requires a job. Which is easier to maintain if I have a safe place to sleep and food and clothing. All of which requires effort to maintain. We haven't even mentioned recycling and volunteering and staying informed about the current state of the ever more dystopian hellscape. There are a lot of plates to keep spinning, despite the fact that eventually they are all going to shatter and it won't ultimately matter to anyone who will endure. (Existentialism is heavy.)

But haha! Daily word count achieved! Now I can get my active minutes in (exercise boosts both physical and mental health) and figure out how much time I have before I need to be where I'm supposed to be next. Because social activities and meetings make living more meaningful. Lather, rinse, repeat.

#nanowrimo #f**k fifty

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dxmichelle · 6 years ago

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Nerdshipping prompt: Seto trying to convince Hermione he’s no good/damaged goods and Hermione having none of his BS

Whoever you are, Anon, thank you for giving me one beautiful challenge to write! I’m sorry this took so long, but here’s 5,000+ words of prompt for you! <3

I might use this for way later chapters of “Nerdship OLSSM”

First, it was Pegasus, dangling Mokuba by his soul, trappedin a trading card, all for the delight of watching him try and boot Yugi off ofDuelist Kingdom in a duel that wasn’t even meant to be part of that farce of atournament. He fought – but he failed, and the blast from his rotting dragon’sdefeat threw him over the edge of the castle wall.

But before he hit the ground, he was suddenly standing inthe middle of Domino City before a circle of Rare Hunters, duel disks at theready. He had smirked – with Obelisk in his deck, this wouldn’t take long, andhe activated his duel disk……until the helicopter flew around the buildings, toolow to the ground, but high enough to dangle his brother dangerously on a rope.

Obelisk never made it to his hand, nor did any of his BlueEyes, and before his life points could even hit zero, Mokuba was dropped, toofar from the ground, and too far from him to do anything about it.

Before he could even register what was happening, Seto then found himself in Dartz’stemple, as the mad lunatic used his magic seal to knock him off his feet. Therewas just enough time to transfer a boost of power to Yami before his visionwent dark, but he could still hear someone pounding on the seal trapping himinto the duel arena.

Mokuba’s scream pierced through him as he turned over in bed, butwas soon replaced, as the temple melted away to the desert, and a woman withlong silvery hair was thrown back into him as she was hit with a blast ofpurple-hued magic.

The Shadow loomed over him as he cradled the woman in hisarms, the light fading from her eyes, and it taunted him with talk of powersand dragons. But then the scene disappeared almost as soon as it had come, butthe Shadow remained. They were in a different temple now, but it was Hermionein his arms, coughing blood, her hand weakly reaching up for his face.

And the Shadow wasn’t alone. Gozaburo, taller than eventhe Shadow itself, circled him like a vulture, repeating the harsh words he hadheard time and time again as a child, drowning out whatever it was Hermione wastrying to tell him before her eyes closed and her arm dropped limply to herside….

The Millennium Rod flared on the bedside table, and Setphased out, sighing deeply as he watched Seto turn over again. The Shadow – thereal one, wasn’t here, but for allthe suffering Seto was enduring this night, he might as well have. His hosthadn’t had such a rough evening since the attack at Christmastime.

Set activated the Rod again, placed his hand over Seto’sforehead, and started whispering a spell he had picked up years and years ago,from Priest Mahad. He watched Seto’s head list to the side as his breathing eventually evened out, and his body stilled, tangled up in his blankets.

Once he was sure that the terrors were gone, Set turned tothe watch sitting beside the phone on the bedside table to check the time. Thesun would soon be up. There wasn’t enough night left for Seto to recoup enoughrest, and he had planned to spend the day with Hermione. Knowing that, Setowould be up at his usual early time. There would be no resting in bed throughthe morning.

He sighed and disappeared back into the Rod.

Seto was up not two hours later, and for the first time, Setdid not put up a fight about him leaving the Rod behind with Yugi.

~~*~~

The arrival of spring at Hogwarts didn’t mean much more thana turn of a calendar page. The bitter winter left the ground frozen long afterthe last snowfall had stopped and the sun didn’t do nearly enough to warm theground and melt it away.

The Hogwarts grounds then became coated in small trails fromcommonly-used paths. One led right from the castle steps to the Greenhouses,another to Hagrid’s Hut, where Care of Magical Creatures was generally located,weather permitting. Another, less commonly used, went from the traditional pathfrom the gates right up to the castle steps, and was traveled solely by thepatrolling Aurors as they came and left. Everywhere else was still a mess fromthe near record-setting levels of snow and ice that fell in the last monthsthat hadn’t yet vanished with the switch of the season.

With the Hogsmeade visits still cancelled, and with everyonecompletely shut in for the majority of the wintertime, it made finding placesto be alone all that much harder. The unused classrooms were their usual go-towhen doing schoolwork, and the Room of Requirement had been sealed shut thelast few weekends, igniting Harry’s suspicions that Malfoy was up to somethingin there, despite all of his attempts to find out what ending in utter failure.But she didn’t want to go to any of those places – they were always there.

Hermione had been looking forward to this weekend for quitesome time. It was the Saturday immediately following the spring midterm exams,and it would be a nice breather from living in the library nonstop for the lasttwo weeks. She hadn’t even seen Seto, for Kaiba Corp had to send him a virtualheadset prototype to test, which first had to make it past Auror inspection,then had to be magicked to work inside school grounds, and then was able to be tested before he sent it back with what shecould only describe as a novel of notes to go with it.

Sufficed to say, it was clear that he didn’t get any sleepfor the past week, and it was nothing short of a miracle that he didn’t havedark circles around his eyes from balancing exams and his job at the same time.

Her mood had dampened somewhat when she made her way downthe girls’ staircase that morning. Seto was sitting by the fireplace, a bookopen in his hands, but she could tell he wasn’t reading, his mind clearlyelsewhere. Was he having a conversation with Set? She couldn’t see theMillennium Rod anywhere, but Seto had gotten very good at hiding it from view.

Seto had glanced up when she approached, offered somethingresembling a sort-of-smirk, and got up, reaching for his coat that sat drapedover the back of the seat next to him.

Hermione blinked. “Are we going somewhere?”

Seto had shrugged, and also grabbed the two travel mugs fromthe table. “A walk.”

His voice was short, clipped, and Hermione frowned.Something was clearly bothering him.

“Alright…” she said slowly, and turned to go back upstairs.“I’ll get my coat then…”

It wasn’t until they had passed through the front doors anddown the main steps of the castle that she had to wonder where he was takingher – especially when he ditched the manmade paths and started crunching hisway through the snow.

“We’re not going to Hogsmeade?” It wasn’t as much a questionbut a stating of the obvious.

She barely caught his quiet chuckle. “No. There’s no specialpermission to get that far away thistime.”

He led her past Hagrid’s Hut, but away from the edge of theForbidden Forest and the Quidditch Pitch, and more towards the lake.

Hermione snuck a peek behind her. The castle, whileobviously still in sight, was a good ways off. As far as finding someplacesecluded to spend their time, this was probably it.

“This is different,” she said, as he helped her up onto oneof the larger rocks by the water’s edge.

“It’s quiet,” said Seto. He chose a dry, sunny area to sitdown and gazed out at the calm waters of the Black Lake.

Hermione frowned and bit her lip. This was the moststandoffish he has ever been to her. Was it just from the rough week – or two –that fell over the entire school? Was he just tired? …Or – had she done something inadvertently to him?

The thought was slashed from her mind as quick as it hadcome. Seto wasn’t one to hold back if he was angry with someone. If she haddone something stupid, he would have said so.

“It is peacefulout here,” she said, “I’m happy to get out, don’t get me wrong.” She reachedfor her wand and conjured her signature blue flame-in-a-jar and set it betweenthem on the boulder. “It’s still winter though.”

“Spring, technically,” said Seto.

“Whatever,” she said, with a flippant wave of her hand.“It’s still cold, and we just trudged through the snow to get here. Feels likewinter.”

“Better get used to it,” said Seto, “We’re supposed to getanother storm in the next few days.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “And you know that how?”

Seto smirked – the first genuinesmirk of the day – and pulled his phone from his coat pocket. He fiddledwith it a moment, before passing it to her, showing a Muggle storm report.“With all your magic, you would think wizards would have figured out how toreport the weather accurately in your newspapers.”

“No one canaccurately report the weather,” said Hermione, “Even the Muggles, with all theadvancements in technology, don’t always get it right.”

“Are you saying you believe The Daily Prophet?”

Hermione shook her head. “No…but your app isn’t always righton the mark either.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see who’s right andwho’s wrong,” said Seto, pocketing his phone again.

“I suppose so.”

He didn’t say anything after that, just kept his eyes on thewater. His right arm was draped over his leg, and she watched the hand curl inand out of a fist ever other minute or so.

This wasn’t normal. Seto was acting more or less the same towhen she first met him at the Burrow. He was aloof then, choosing to be off byhimself and work or study the mountain of books he had picked up from DiagonAlley. It was a miracle that he agreed to let her study near him when he was outside, giving off the barest minimum ofbeing social with the others.

Did he want her to leave? If he truly wanted to be off byhimself, he wouldn’t have waited for her to come downstairs this morning, andhe certainly would have said as much when she went to get her coat to join him.Today would have been nothing more than a day of playing one-sidedhide-and-seek, and he would have won by a landslide.

Was this out of some sense of obligation because theyplanned to spend time together today? Was he forcing this on himself, andreally wanted nothing more than to spend the day in a quiet corner of thecastle?

She sighed – his silence was killing her.

“What’s wrong?” she said, breaking the awkward silencebetween them.

“Nothing,” he said, a bit too quickly, and she bit back aharsh laugh. There was no plainer lie.

“Right, and my name is Rita Skeeter. You’ve been off sincewe left the tower.”

Seto closed his eyes for a good five seconds before lookingback out again – at the water, not ather. “It’s nothing.”

She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, shereached for his hand, and felt her heart twist into a knot when he tensed up,and tried to flinch out of her light grasp before he seemed to check himselfand stopped. Hermione was used to it – she knew that he did this wheneversomeone touched him. He practically locked up his whole right side whenMcLaggen tried to get under his skin a few weeks ago. It was something shenever asked to why it happened, but just accepted as something that stemmedfrom his youth, and inquiring about it felt like probing where she shouldn’tbe. But…knowing that he still did it to herafter all this time hurt.

“Clearly, it isn’t,” she said, “If there’s something I’vedone to make you this way, I wish you’d –”

“— You haven’t done anything.”

Well, that was arelief.

“I –” Seto sighed and looked down at her hand hovering, barely touching his arm. “It’s complicated.”

Hermione tilted her head, regarding him curiously. “Is thereanything I can do to help?”

Seto turned to look ahead again. “Doubtful.”

Hermione frowned. “You’re doing a Harry.”

Seto snorted.

Hermione huffed. “Youare. Don’t hold whatever it is inside all the time. Talk to me.” Shewatched his shoulders sag as his eyes closed again, and her voice softened.“It’s alright. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to say anything now ifyou don’t want to – but you will feel better once you do.”

There was the barest ofnods, but he didn’t say anything after that, choosing to keep his gaze out overthe water.

Hermione sighed quietly, leaned her head onto his shoulderand took his hand in hers, relieved that this time, he didn’t freeze up orshake her back off. She rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand over thespot where Umbridge’s two nights of detention had sliced ‘I will show respect’ into his skin, though the lines were long gonenow. Two nights hadn’t been long enough to permanently scar him, unlike Harry,who had ‘I will not tell lies’ etchedin for weeks throughout his fifth year.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat in complete silence, andshe was sure she had dozed off for some of the time, but his sudden questionnearly made her jump.

“Why?”

She lifted her head. “Why what?”

Seto’s brow was furrowed. Gears were turning in his head,she was sure of it, and he looked to be struggling to find the right words tosay.

“Why – why me?” hefinally asked, looking down at her. She was staring at him, not entirelycomprehending the simple question, so he rephrased. “What is it you see inme?”

Hermione gave him a funny look. “W-what is that supposed to mean?”

Seto looked up at the sky and sighed. “Not counting onepompous idiot, you could probably have whoever you wanted in this place –”

Hermione snorted. “Right – a plain, know-it-all bookworm issuch pleasant company.”

Seto turned to look at her. She was far more than plain. “You and Ron had something goingback and forth for a while – and don’t deny it to me, astronauts in orbit couldhave seen it for how obvious it was.”

Hermione flushed.

“Yet…you choose me.I…” Seto sounded resigned. “I just don’t get it.”

Hermione patted his hand gently. “I think…” she began, “Thisis the sort of conversation to have beforewe started dating.”

Seto gave a lone silent chuckle and gestured out at thelandscape. “Is that what this is?”

Hermione snorted. “It’s the closest we’ll get to oneoutside of Hogsmeade, so yes.”

She was silent for a minute as she gathered her thoughts. “You’re right, in a way. Harry and Ron – myfriends are everything. I don’t know if I would still be here without them.”

Hermione paused. “Actually, I wouldn’t be here without them. I’d be dead, probably. But onemountain troll aside, I’d probably be more like you. Spending my time all alonewith my nose in a book, ignoring everyone around me, and forgetting to live.”

She rested her head on his shoulder again. “Harry is likethe brother I’ve never had. And Ron too – though I’ll admit I did fancy him fora while. In a way, I still do. But Ron…I know he tries his best at times, buthe’s a bit too oblivious with people’s feelings. And whether he’s meant it ornot, he’s hurt me one too many times. We’ve both done it to each other, I’lladmit it. I’m not perfect.

“…But Ron doesn’t see the world the way you and I do. Thisplace, magic, it’s all he’s everknown, and there’s so much he takes for granted. His heart, oh it’s so muchbigger than mine, but it’s so hard to talk about things that interest me. He just accepts so much as it is becausea world of magic is all he’s ever known.”

She hugged his arm a little tighter. “I’m attracted to youbecause you’re different. You comefrom the same world I do. I know your life is so much more hectic than mine,but it’s just so refreshing to knowthere’s someone I can talk to about things that interest me. We can talk abouttheories of magic, or bounce essay points off each other, or just study in silence without wondering whensomeone is going to throw their book aside, complain about their work, and tryand start up a game of Gobstones instead.

“We don’t share the exactinterests, but you don’t belittle mine.” She sniffed. “Do you have any ideahow shocked, how surprised I was tofind that you were actually giving Dobbythe extra little socks and hats that I was making that he didn’t find? Harryunderstood – sort of – what I was trying with SPEW. He grew up in a Muggleenvironment too. But everyone else here just accepts things as the way they areand have no intention in making the world better.”

“It was payment for the coffee.”

“Exactly!” she cried, pushing herself off of him andgesturing wildly. “You acknowledge that the house elves are performing aservice and choose to give them something back, not treat them like slaves forthe wizards! That’s what I want – to do some good when this is all over, but Ican’t talk about that, or Arithmancy or…Ancient Runes with anyone – well, YugiI can, and Ryou too, but that’s beside the point now. With Harry and Ron, if itisn’t chess, it’s Quidditch. …I just can’t relate to them like I can with you.”

“Hm.” He said after a few beats of silence, but that was it.

Hermione eyed him curiously. “What, did you think me soshallow that I was just here for your fame?”

There was another odd beat. “I had to be sure.” But judgingby the tone of his voice, that wasn’t really the reason why he had asked.

“Sure of what – that I wasn’t just another obsessedMuggleborn like a third of the school?”

He didn’t really answer her.

Seto sighed. Today was not quite going as planned. Though,after running the gauntlet of nightmares last night, he didn’t plan for a wholelot. He had dreamt of various “bad endings” to bits of his life before, most ofthem resulting in either his or Mokuba’s death by someone’s hands. He was usedto them by now, but it didn’t make seeing them again any less unsettling.

But this was the first that Hermione had wormed her way intothem, alongside the round of villains he had faced in the past. And when hewoke, not long after watching her second death of the evening – that one by theShadow’s clawed hands – it left him visibly shaken. The last vision before theyall seemed to filter away had felt so real that he was certain the Shadow hadactually snuck its way into his head after weeks of staying away. But ithadn’t, and the dream faded away like all the others.

Frowning, Hermione shifted away from him and twisted aroundon the boulder so she could face him properly. “Talk to me, please?” she said, and she didn’t care how desperate thatsounded. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” he began, and then stopped. His words were failing himtoday. “You’d probably be happier with someone else.”

He could see a few different reactions cross her face, butbefore she could say anything, he continued. “I-I’m not an easy person to getalong with. You know that. Dating?I’ve barely worked past friends on the social scale, and even then, there’smaybe only two people I’d lump in there. You think Ron’s heart is an emotionalmess? At least he displays something more than cold indifference on a regularbasis.”

Hermione straightened up, eyes wide. “…Are you saying weshouldn’t be together because you’re…what? Reserved? It can’t bebecause you’re incapable of showing affection because that’s the biggest lieI’ve ever heard. You don’t have to be like Cormac McLaggen or Lavender Brown –snogging someone’s face off every day or showing off that you’ve got a trophydate to be capable of feeling, Seto. You’ve done more by small, special momentsthan so many people have done for me from the past six years.”

Seto raised an eyebrow, looking doubtful.

“Alright, I’ll give you proof,” said Hermione, and talliedoff on her fingers. “Despite usually wanting nothing to do with any of us, youallowed me to sit and study with you both over the summer, and while you jumpedaround from room to room in the castle. Even without saying anything, you’velistened to me vent over just about anything and have not retorted with anysort of judged opinion on ‘that’s just how the world works, Hermione’. You’veallowed me to help you in yourdefensive lessons, and it’s worked….”

“That barelycounts. You were keeping me from murdering a dead spirit – who by all accountsshouldn’t have tried to use you as Shadow Realm bait in the first place.”

“No, Set waslooking out for your best interest. I merely reminded you of how much of anidiot you were being by refusing help when you needed it most.”

He started to retort again but she silenced him with a darklook. “And you’re being one now too, so stop and let me finish.”

“…Despite not wanting anythingto do with Umbridge’s Christmas Ball, you went anyway, and regardless of how you believe it happened, you saved me fromCormac McLaggen and we both had a lovely night on the Astronomy Tower. And youcan’t tell me that the kiss – both ofthem – right outside the portrait hole were just pecks under mistletoe atChristmas. We were both scarlet afterwards.

“You’re a friend who’s given me a voice when I couldn’t findmine, a companion when I didn’t want to be alone, and a means of escape when Ineeded it most. They’re not things you give solely to someone you love, but youdon’t even offer those to anyone else – not even Yugi or Ryou, who you’ve knownlonger than any of us.”

She scooted closer again and took hold of his hand. “I don’twant you to turn into something like Ronor Cormac, and I wouldn’t want us to be like Ron and Lavender. That’s not whowe are. You’re worried about unknowns, because that’s what this relationship isto you. I’ve never been in one either, so this is new to me too. The importantthing is that we be willing to tread through this together.”

Seto hung his head and stared at his hands again. “I’ve been…we’llcall it engrained to believe thatlove – showing emotions – was a signof weakness. If it was something that could be exploited, it would be. I had to close myself off for so long, I don’t think Ican open up – not the way you’d want me to.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “What sort of rhetoric is that?”

Seto let out a dark laugh. “Part of Gozaburo’s doctrine. Itwas true though. I’ve had two weaknesses since taking over Kaiba Corp. Thecompany and my brother, and since taking Kaiba Corp, I’ve nearly lost it twice,actually three times, and Mokuba’s faced more traumas on my account than anyten year-old should ever have faced.”

He looked her dead in the eyes. “I can’t let that happen toyou too.”

Hermione’s head tilted to the side as she shook it slightly.“What did I tell you about being an idiot?”

Seto blinked. Well – thatwasn’t the response he was expecting.

“What are you worried over – that someone is going to use meas barter?”

“Look where I ended up at the end of Christmas break!” Setocountered, eyes narrowing, “I know youremember what happened to me during that time. How much worse would it havebeen had Mokuba – or you – gotten involved?Or if they knew about us?”

She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “Newsflash,Seto, my best friend is Harry Potter. We’re already in a war, and it’s onlygoing to get worse. I’m sure I’ll already have a huge target on my back notjust for being Muggleborn, but for being close to Harry! What’s going to happenafter we graduate Hogwarts next year if the war is still going on? No place isgoing to be safe, but we’re going to keep on fighting.”

“You know whatVoldemort wants. The Shadow throws everything in a lurch. I only narrowly gotaway the last time. It invades my mind like a parasite and I can’t stop it. Setcan’t stop it. The Pharaoh can’teither. What’s to say it won’t take a glimpse through Memory Lane, and thenattack you next to draw me back?”

Hermione shook her head; he truly is just like Harry. “Youcan’t live in fear of the unknown, Seto. Look at you – you plan for everything.Didn’t Yugi once say you had three different back-up plans in your own carddeck?”

The corner of Seto’s lip curled up, ever so slightly. “Five, but who’s counting.”

“Exactly! We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, ornext week, or even ten minutes from now. But we can only plan ahead as best wecan. The notion of Voldemort winning the war frightens me, and knowing whatthis Shadow is capable of terrifies me, but that’s not enough to push me away.I’m not going anywhere.”

Seto sighed.

“I’m not a frail little girl, Seto. I can take care ofmyself,” she said, looking slightly amused now, and leaned up next to him again.“I don’t know why I have to keep telling you that.”

Seto relaxed somewhat. “Maybe I just needed to hear it again.”

Hermione swatted his arm. “For someone with such goodmemory, you seem to forget that a lot.”

“Consider it one of my failings.”

“Mmm,” she muttered and looped her arm back around his.

They sat back, staring out at the calm waters before Hermione spoke up again. “Doyou feel a little better now? About us?”

To her surprise, he chuckled. “I know that if I bring any ofthis up again, you’re going to hex me into the bottom of the Black Lake.”

“Mmm, no. I’m not sharing you with the mermaids. They’re tooclingy.”

“There are mermaids in the Black Lake?” Seto rolled hiseyes. “Why does that not surprise me?”

She giggled. “But in all seriousness, I don’t want you tobottle all this in. I’m here to help. I know old habits are hard to break, butat least promise to try not to pushme away like this again?”

He looked down at her. “I think I can handle that.”

She smiled and raised her head up. Their faces were inchesapart.

“Hem, hem.”

Hermione jumped, startled, and knocked her head right intoSeto with a quiet “oh!”

Seto rubbed at the bridge of his nose as they turned to theside. Professor Umbridge was standing at the base of the boulder, her hands onher hips.

“What are you two doing?”

“Just…enjoying the weather,” said Hermione, “After this lastweek of exams, it’s peaceful to just sit out here in the sun.”

“It was peacefulout here,” Seto muttered.

Hermione punched his arm.

“A concerned student alerted me that you two were leavingschool grounds unattended,” said Umbridge suspiciously, “Have you been here theentire time?”

Hermione blinked. “Yes,” she said, “We haven’t gone near thegates at all.”

“Hm,” said Umbridge. Her voice was laced with doubt. “In anycase, come. Down off that rock before you hurt yourselves up there. We’re goingback to the castle.”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped. “Please, Professor, must we?”

“Absolutely,” said Umbridge with a wicked grin, “Why, Mr.Kaiba has missed enough lessons thisyear. If you stay out any longer in this cold, you’re likely to put him back inthe hospital. And we can’t have that,can we?”

“It’s not that coldout here,” Seto countered. “I’m not about to get sick from sitting in the sun.”

“Regardless, it is a safety concern if you’re missing fortoo long,” said Umbridge, gesturing out towards the lake. “I know you are notin-the-know with everything that goes on in the Ministry, but the creatures inthe Black Lake have been stirring closer to the surface over the past fewyears. You two are right along the water’s edge. We wouldn’t want any of those merpeople or grindylows to drag youdown, now would we?”

“That sounds made up,” Seto said flatly. “Grindylow live atthe bottom of lakes, not near the surface.”

“Not that you would have known, seeing you have been in ourworld for only a few short months, Mr. Kaiba,” said Umbridge hotly, “But therehave been reports of Grindylow dragging children to the bottom of bodies ofwater. Rita Skeeter has done a number of reports about the incidents and thespecies in general.”

“Oh, if Rita Skeeter published it, than it must be true,” Hermione deadpanned, eyerolling.

Umbridge sneered. “Rita Skeeter is a renowned journalist, Miss Granger. Now come along.”

Seto shook his head slightly, but leapt off the boulder,landing easily on his feet. Umbridge turned back and started back up the pathas he helped Hermione down and grabbed their travel mugs.

When she didn’t hear them crunching along behind her,Umbridge looked back. “This way, youtwo. The castle is back this way.”

“We’re finishing our walk,” Seto snapped. “We’re not indanger of the dastardly grindylows anymore,and there’s no rule saying we’re shut inside on the weekends. But if you’re sosure that something is going to jump out of the lake or run out of the forestand attack us, then by all means, come along. I’m sure your expertise indefensive magic will be plenty to ward off the dangerous creatures lurking outof sight.”

And with that, he turned on his heel, looped his arm aroundHermione’s and started off a different path.

“You are going to get yourself detention again if you’re notcareful,” Hermione muttered.

Seto turned his head ever so slightly to peer behind him. “She’salready heading back to the castle, and I’ll bet anything, she’s babblingnonsense and her face is the same shade as a tomato.”

Hermione shook her head. “I swear she’s been watching uslately.”

“You know it was probably McLaggen that tipped her off.”

She shrugged. “Probably. But I think she’s been looking fora reason get back at me from last year.”

“Why?” Seto raised his mug to his lips and took a sip of hiscoffee. “What did you do?”

Hermione cringed. “Well…aside from helping to start Harry’sillegal defense club? I led her into theforest and nearly got her killed – or at least severely hurt – by Hagrid’s half-brother and a herd of centaurs.”

Seto nearly choked on his drink.

“Oh, sorry!” she said, patting his back until the coughing stopped. “It’s true though.She hates anything that’s considered a half-breed. And we needed to get to theDepartment of Mysteries, so Harry and I led her into the forest.”

Seto snorted. “What, were you hoping something in therewould take her out?”

“Sort of? I was improvising the entire time and –stop laughing!”

Seto recovered himself. “That’s terrible – I love it. Lookat you breaking the rules.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she said.

Seto stopped walking and slowly turned to look at her. “Whatelse have you been holding out on me?”

“I mean,” Hermione shrugged. “I’m friends with Harry. Webroke a hundred school rules almost every year.”

“No no,” Seto shook his head. “Not you as a collective. Whathave you done?”

“Oh.” Hermione thought back as they started walking again,passing across the path leading to the Quidditch Pitch and around towards theWhomping Willow. “I once set Professor Snape’s robes on fire….”

“You didn’t think to do it to Umbridge’s?”

“It was my first year,” said Hermione, “And it was during aQuidditch game. We thought Snape was trying to curse Harry off his broom at thetime.”

“Huh.”

“Thinking back, it’s hard to imagine just how many hijinkswe got up to each year.”

“You’ll have to tell me sometime.” Seto paused and turned tolook back in the direction of the lake. “…Starting with how you know mermaidsare clingy.”

“Oh,” Hermione laughed as they continued onward. “Do you remembermy telling you of the TriWizard Tournament in our fourth year? Well, one of thetasks involved the Black Lake….”

#michelle replies #michelle writes fic #nerdshipping #seto kaiba #hermione granger #yugioh #hp #crossover au #dolores umbridge #thanks for the prompt anon!#I hope you liked it!

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myunicorninsanity-blog · 7 years ago

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Bullies!!! ***THIS IS GONNA BE LONG!!!***

OMG, I don't even know where to begin on this one..

So when I was a little girl, we are talking 5 yrs old I had 2 boys beat me up often. The school did little to protect me. The beatings from these boys were so bad that they knocked out my 2 front teeth. I can still remember 1 of their names like it was yesterday. Eventually, they stopped and the next school year they treated me like a queen... Probably cause their parents who barely had a pot to piss in were so afraid my parents would sue them. But I will never forget any of it. That's on top of the other horrific things that I won't even mention happened to me.

Middle school I was far from perfect... Kids bullied me relentlessly... I was a size 6 and would call me fat, make whale noises at me amongst other stuff. I did what I could to shake off their BS and go about my day to be who I could be and was. Believe me when I say it has NEVER been easy to be in my shoes. Not a single person would have survived the hell I endured growing up that took me till I was an adult to even be able to fully comprehend what I went through... But instead, children sat on their pedestals and picked on the girl they portrayed as weak and an easy target. I had one girl in the 8th grade actually go in my purse when I wasn't paying attention and steal my Florida Gators pen that I was very protective of because my mom mailed it to me and threw it away cause she thought it was funny. She didn't care that it had ANY sentimental value to me. To her, it was just a pen... To me, it was a gift from my mom who could barely afford to buy me ANYTHING! So pens.. slipper socks.. any small thing my mom sent me... Even if it was a rainbow-colored rubber band. I would have loved as much as if she sent me the Hope Diamond. But no one took the time to find out about me... I wasn't one of the cool kids... I didn't have the Guess jeans like the other kids. I was the emotionally challenged preteen who was suffering from so much emotional and mental abuse and manipulation that your head would spin if you learned.

High school was no better than middle school. We just had new bullies. Ones that in middle school didn't pay me the time of day. But hey, now you are in high school and you're a freshman with a senior boyfriend your cool... So your actions don't fucking matter cause you need to look like a hot shot for your older man. Are you kidding me? So what do you do.. Get in peoples faces and act like a bitch cause it made you feel good about yourself, and when I stood up to you cause I was DONE with your BS... You fought me harder threatening me with physical violence. My dad taught me one thing growing up... As long as I hit 2nd, its self-defense. I probably would have laid your ass out, but I'm not a physical person so I was the smarter person and I would just turn around and walk away from you. You would scream at me down the hall, threaten me harder.. and I would just keep walking... Letting you look like the asshole that you were.

And sadly after all of that... There's more... The biggest thing is this... I now stand in the world... I'm a mom to the most AMAZING 10 yr old kid. He is being bullied by kids at his school, and I don't know how to deal with it. For me, it brings up bad memories of my childhood.. Makes me remember the hell I went through in elementary school, and thankfully no one is putting a finger on him. But I'm being rendered helpless. That's a feeling I don't like at all. I don't do well with negative emotions. All I can do as a mom and a victim of school bullies myself and so many others is be there for him, the way my parents were for me, and show him love, and compassion as a mom the only way a mom can.

Support and love your kids! Teach them to be good people, and to know that not everyone in the world are like these bullies..

#bulliessuck #be the bigger person

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msjoyful23-blog · 8 years ago

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Black in Corporate America

I never imagined during my collegiate days that I would still struggle with being African American working for Fortune 500 and global companies. It's a thought that never crossed my mind as I sat in my business classes with professors who walked the walk before me. They would lecture on working harder than everyone else, on making friends with the folks in the mailroom, and learning how to play the "corporate game". All of these things went over my naive head in the early 90s. I suspect it's because I went to private school from first to twelfth grade and I never experienced being treated unfairly by my teachers or any classmates for that matter. I was smart and never felt any type of way. I knew it existed with some of my other classmates being called a nigger and the like but it didn't affect me the way it does now. I guess you can say I wasn't "woke" in my teens the way some of these young people are in today's racial climate. I was more concerned with watching "The Box", watching Soap Operas, and hanging with my friends. I wasn't versed on the Regan and republican politics nor did I care. As a college student, my focus was on graduating not on Bill Clinton's crime bill. I voted for him and even helped with his campaign but that's where my interest ended. Eighteen years in Corporate America. Almost two decades of being a professional and productive member of society. I have a Masters degree in Business with a concentration in Accounting. I'm the real deal...I'm a woman...a Black woman...with a MBA...and a tax accountant! I'm dangerous and so I've learned over these past eighteen years I'm not wanted. As I've matured over the years I've learned to ignore that part, but all of the other stressors shine the light on the fact that we African Americans deal with some very heavy obstacles that few seem to be able to manage. I've seen it over and over countless times of disparities in the workplace that plague us from city to city and company to company. It doesn't matter how great a company's diversity programs are there will always be an employee or two or a hundred who don't buy into the company's million dollar program on inclusion and diversity. And somehow I often end up reporting directly to the aforementioned employee and I'm not sure how I survived this long. My Dad in all his infinite wisdom told me very early in life to become an entrepreneur. He had the right ideas but no advice how to execute and after seeing his business fail, I decided working for someone else was safer. I wish I had listened to him or asked more questions. I always rolled my eyes and blew him off because let's face it African Americans don't have access to capital and resources to start businesses. We don't even support our own community entrepreneurs and I wasn't going to be any different. So like those books I used to read when I was a kid where you had a choice of an ending by choosing a certain page, I chose Corporate America and turned to page 97. My mother often says that I'm the most resourceful person she knows and that I can find out anything. I wish I had drawn from her faith in me and started my own business. But no I chose page 97 so here I am. The lure of Corporate America is of course the money, status, benefits, and holidays off. Unless you went to FAMU's School of Business and Industry (shameless plug) no one tells you of the unspoken stress that affects those of us bamboozled, lead astray, and run amuck by a form of modern day slavery. As a Black woman I have to constantly combat stereotypes of the "angry black woman". I constantly wonder if getting upset in front of my coworkers adds fuel to the ridiculous notion that Black women cannot be angry. As if we are expected to always wear a smile and deal with every level of BS that comes our way without any form of emotion. It's ridiculous and also preposterous to think a human being cannot show emotion. You are allowed to feel and have emotions. You should be able to express yourself without someone labeling you as "angry" as if that's the only emotion we carry. How about frustrated or annoyed, which doesn't always equate to "angry". Please don't be lazy and label black women as angry because you don't want to do the work to have a conversation about what the issue may be. I equate this to slavery because we are being told without being told how to feel and how to react to being mistreated on sometimes a daily basis. Most women of color that I know have had that instance in the workplace where someone who is not a person of color told them to smile, not shake their head or roll their eyes as if we are property and they can still dictate what we can and cannot do with our own bodies. To demand a person of color to smile or not shake their head or roll their eyes is rude and racist. In addition to constantly wondering about my "perception" (also a racially motivated term in Corporate America), I am constantly conscious of my tone and sound of my voice. Can you image if everyday you have to think about not only what you say and how you say it but the sound of your voice too? That stress alone is enough for anyone to flip over their desks and walk out with the peace sign high in the air with any song by Kendrick Lamar playing as theme music. Ok maybe this is my recurring dream and everyone doesn't feel this way but I know at some point you have had to navigate through this maze of BS dealing with your tone and sound of your voice. After you have managed to identify this obstacle, your next obstacle is to learn to play this ridiculous middle school game of office politics. This is where I fail miserably because I'm grown and believe in being honest and upfront with people. I don't believe in throwing rocks and hiding my hand, throwing my coworkers under the bus, or being mediocre on a daily basis. I've never mastered this game and I flat out chose to sit on the bench while they sell their momma's out for a few coins. It's never been worth it to me to become a phony and unprofessional person. I happen to believe in the character of a person and being honest and trustworthy but I guess those are just buzz words nowadays that get kicked around like an empty soda can. Trust. It's such a heavy and important word. In Corporate America you are expected to trust those above you in a blind way like you trust God. I'm sorry but for me when someone shows you they mean you no good, trust is not an option. But the stressful part is you have to work with this person regardless of how you feel about them. Most people say they can work with anyone regardless of how you feel about them, however I believe you don't do your best work when you are literally working side-by-side with Satan himself. I've found myself leaving the office completely drained of any energy. Their negative and toxic selves suck all the energy from your body that you literally go home and sink into the couch in a semi-comatose state. It's unfair to work in a hostile environment where your boss curses, calls you out of your name in front of others, and yells at you and has not one professional bone in their body. So the nitpicking obstacle is enough to send your eyes into involuntary rolling. It's harassment in no uncertain terms. It's the kind of harassment that has you questioning why you even work there when at the same time you are more competent than most and have tons of education and initiative that you are often the one overworked because you do the most. You take on project after project because you are driven by nature not realizing it allows some to get comfortable in their mediocrity. They don't have to do any extra work because they know you will. Yet, the powers that be nitpick you to death and it's almost always not about your work product. 9.8 times out of ten it's about the "perception" that was conjured up just in case they need some justification to screw you out of a raise, promotion, or even your current position. Even if you are promoted they will stifle your growth and limit or eliminate your authority. You were a calculated promotion because they can say in their review that they embrace diversity all while making your life a living hell and increasing their bonus. I have no advice for those in similar situations except pray because that's all I've been able to do. Pray that God gives you peace to endure through these storms that seem to never end and pray that God fights your battles because if you try you will most definitely fail. The system is not designed for people of color. It is a winding and rocky road we travel for success that only we can measure. No one can measure your success for you. All you can do is your absolute best with whatever position you happen to hold. Well I do have two pieces of advice and that's by all means don't go to Human Resources. They are not your friend and they don't care what happens to you. They work for the company and their vested interest is to the company. Your issues with your supervisor or manager are just a means to weed you out and hire someone else who doesn't "complain" or "cause trouble". It's a shame that a person who is being discriminated and harassed by a fellow employee has no resources with their employer...or maybe it's just us...just people of color that have to abide by this unspoken rule. Hire a lawyer if it's that bad. My second piece of advice is to journal your experiences every single time. The best method is to email your personal email account from your work email. It is date and time stamped so it gives much more credibility than a handwritten journal. This is something I failed to do time and time again. From one company to the next I never documented my treatment and thus never had an advantage whenever I was disenfranchised. This documentation can also be used if the treatment is so bad you have to seek legal action. Maybe it's just me and I'm alone in this world of trying to navigate Corporate America while maintaining some form of sanity and purity of self although I know I'm not. I've seen my friends post their woes on social media detailing accounts of harassment and mistreatment by coworkers or managers above them. I've talked with folks who have cried on numerous occasions because folks are out here playing games at work when they clearly don't have enough work to do meanwhile we are all stressed out seeking professional therapy. It's incredibly discouraging because I'm a mentor at heart and I want to tell these young professionals to run far away from this toxic and demeaning environment designed for us to fail. I'm sure there are anomalies out there that truly believe in treating others with respect and dignity and who believe that diversity and inclusion are better for society as a whole. But until then, start your own businesses and build the community by creating jobs for our own. Don't pick page 97 if you don't have to because of fear or comfort. Be better than me and find a way to be your own boss. There is something to be said of being free completely. This is the answer that I ignored in my youth. It may not be too late for me but it's definitely not too late for the younger generation and I implore you to explore your options. African Americans, if I don't know anything else, are the most creative people on this planet. You can do this! Start teaching your children about starting businesses because that is the key to building wealth without of course stealing it but that's a blog for another day. Stay Blessed.

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