I will keep this brief to avoid boring you, and also because whenever this site reloads, which has happened several times now, I have to type this story all over again.
Back in high school, I HAD to leave for school really early in order to avoid being late. I may seem obsessive to you, but believe me, you would be too if you were in my situation. I had physics as the first class of the day, and the professor was REALLY strict. How strict, you might ask? Very strict.
Because of this, I had to make my breakfasts the day before I would eat them so that I could arrive at school on time. One of the things I preferred to make was waffles.
In the first half of the semester, my best friend’s cousin, who we shall call Phil, moved in with me. At first, I thought he was a great guy. We shared a lot of interests, like gaming and sports.
Two months later, everything changed. I woke up one morning, smiling at the thought of waffles with maple syrup, and hummed a tune as I completed my morning routine (the part before breakfast). I twirled downstairs and opened the fridge and gracefully lifted the container of waffles off the refrigerator racks only to find it…empty. My heart sank as I realized I would not have time to make anything else.
I grabbed a few granola bars (which I fortunately had bought the day before) and thought about the disappearance of my waffles. Sure, this may seem tiny and unimportant, but I needed my waffles in the mornings. They were my breakfast, and gave me the energy I needed to start the day. Sure, I had other foods, but granola bars and crackers just weren’t enough.
Just then, Phil walked in. “Do you know what could have happened to my waffles?” I asked him, holding up the empty container.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, “I ate those because I ran out of cereal and had nothing else to eat.”
“Nothing else?” I said, raising my voice, “Nothing else? Did it occur to you that we had, let’s see, granola bars? And that the waffles were MY breakfast that I make EVERY DAY?”
“Sorry.” He said. “At least they were delicious.” I finished my granola bars and stomped off, deciding to let it slide because this had never happened before.
Until it happened the next day. And the next. When I confronted Phil about this, as he obviously had bought cereal at the store, he apologized, saying that the waffles were just really delicious and he couldn’t resist them. This happened for weeks, and no matter how hard I tried, he wouldn’t stop. He would wake up earlier than I did if I was planning to do the same to him. Even if I hid my waffles, he would find them.
Then one day, I decided I had had enough. When I baked my waffles, I added…vinegar. And hot sauce. Lots of vinegar and hot sauce. I woke up to Phil’s angry shouts. He ran into my room, shouting, “What the did you put in those ing waffles?”
I tried not to smirk as I calmly replied, “Oh, just some stuff that I like.”
“Why the would you put that in there?” He screamed.
I couldn’t hide my smile as I said, “Because last time I checked, I was making these waffles for my breakfast, not yours, and I can put whatever I want in my breakfast. Let this be a lesson to you, Phil (This isn’t his real name, as you already know, so I didn’t call him Phil). My waffles, my rules. Don’t mess with me or my waffles ever. Again. Because you won’t like me when I don’t have my waffles, as you found out today.”
Some people just like to use their power to bash people and
degrade people publicly. Whenever I encounter these people I like to grasp the
situation firmly in hand and beat them down. In this case I give you special
piece of crap we shall call D*ck. D*ck is a older guy who has worked for a
branch of state law enforcement for many years. He was very vocal about being
three years away from full state retirement and about his rank in state gov.
I was working as a contractor doing some I.T. work. We had a
large group to move the department forward at least 10 years technology wise.
It was all hands on deck to prep computers for the incoming new computers and
of course setting up the new ones. In my case as a coder/network grunt I was
being ‘borrowed’ and more than happy to help.
D*ck was the only jerk out of at least 300 people I had
enjoyably encountered. He complained about anything he could figure to complain
about and would go over the departments managers heads to complain. Part of
what I was asked to do was inventory their software used, directories mapped,
and to copy files to their new network folders. Keep in mind we did a copy of
the data and not a move. When new computers arrived the network copy served as
a way to making sure the data was backed up before it was cloned over to the
new system. D*ck was livid that someone touched his computer and swore we
deleted a file we could not find.
I was marched up to his office with my management team and the
department’s senior. I promptly found his file on his new system (and on the
network). I happened to notice that he had newly installed a newsreader but did
not say anything about it. I knew if I called him out on it I would get canned
and they would not look into it. Instead I opened the reader while D*ck was
bashing me in the hallway to his audience and changed his preferences. Now the
files would not delete when they were read or deleted. Keeping in mind this was
in the late 90’s and the internet was still a new thing for many. A lot of
people would download their porn from newsgroups (usenet) by using a newsreader
to download everything new dumped in the selected group (think like a folder). Groups would follow a theme or where supposed to. The reader would
put all the pieces together so you could see the images or video and copy them
to folders. I was made to apologize in front of him and marched off in
shame. D*ck was really throbbing with all of his smugness.
I was passed off from that project to just doing a rework of
some DOS based software. I told my suck up manager that a lot of people were
downloading and installing software on their own. My manager clicked that it
was work we could be tasked with doing to create billable hours and that he
could score suckup points with. This in turn created various email
distributions and policy updates. I also point out that we need something about
appropriate usage - great! The policy also now highlights that any private use
on government equipment is subject to the same rules as fraud - perfect. This
helps later because there is NO wiggle room for offenders. In turn my manager
was more than pleased with me and treated me golden - hell he even bought me
I quickly forgot all about D*ck and found myself expanding the
list of software that needed to be rewritten by me. This kept me busy and
extended my contract. My boss was happy, my agency was happy, and my clients
were very happy.
Fast forward few months later. I get back to the office and the
bosses are there looking for a coworker. They asked me if I knew anything about
d*cks new system and I told them HELL no. They walk off and told me if I saw
the coworker to send him over.
When my coworker (who was an employee and not a contractor)
returned I told him about the managers, my encounter with Major D*ck and tipped
him off about the newsreader. My coworkers eyes lit up and he stood straight
like a huge weight had been lifted. It turns out that D*ck once again had
senior staff watch the 'stupid idiot’ fix the computer that the “tech broke
being incompetent’. Surprise - It turns out it was out of disk space and would
not re-start. The tech had to boot from a disk and delete temp files just to
boot. In front of everyone the tech points out that one directory was filling
the drive with images. Once he had everyone’s attention he then popped open
some images. Porn immediately filled the screen including some very sketchy
stuff from what I hear.
The tech was ushered out and D*ck lost his job. Instead of
putting D*ck into jail they covered asses and terminated him. No job, no power,
and pension for you D*CK.
Note: So @a-schuylerr made a post about different Lafayette fic scenarios they would like to see and I got inspired. Thank you to @thatoneimaginesblog for being my proofreader and for putting up with me spamming you with my process on this fic. This is my longest fic and I am really excited for you to read it!
Warning: smut and that’s basically it
Word Count: 7,204 ( I expected it to be long just not this long)
When your father first announced that you were to marry a French nobleman in just over a month, you felt as if your throat had fallen into your stomach. You were angry and shocked, so angry that you could hardly form a sentence before you stormed off.
That was three days ago, your anger had subsided and left you feeling worried. Worried about the man you were going to be married to. He wasn’t just any old French nobleman he was the Marquis de Lafayette, more affectionately known as the “Mean Marquis”. You’d heard stories about him about his ruthless and cold nature when it came to business. You had also heard about how popular he was with women, and that he was always surrounded by them.
“It’s just not fair!” you yell. You’d walked far enough away from you family’s home that you know you can speak without being heard. “I don’t even know him why should I marry him?” you groan as you sink to your knees.
You take a deep breath as you feel yourself start to panic. How on earth is he going to treat me? You wonder. After everything you’ve heard about him, the best you can hope for is that he will ignore you. He will probably give you a child or two but for the most part, just forget you even exist.
Context: Me(Dragonborn paladin), a halfling rogue who talks as, and insists he’s Skeletor, and a Swedish dwarf barbarian who changes sexualities after suffering lightning damage and is now currently pan, just saved a smaller than usual goblin from three bugbears. After he provides us with some much needed info, is renamed Beastman by Skeletors demand, and told to sit in the corner and not listen to the conversation till he’s called, the following ensues.
Me(IC): So what shall we do with Beastman?
Skeletor: I want to keep him…as my pet. Can I keep him, oh please may I keep him?
Bjornen(IC with Swedish accent) I am fine with that.
Me: So long as you keep him away from Bjornen.
Bjornen: What? Just because I already threatened to tie him up and kill him? Fuck off.
Skeletor: Young Beastman, uncover your ears!
DM: He cannot hear you as he is still holding his hands over his ears and plugging them with bugbear fur.
Skeletor(ooc): I go to poke Beastman lightly.
DM: he shivers at your touch and holds his ears tighter and tries to shrink into the corner of the room.
Bjornen(ooc): I tear his hands away from his ears.
DM: Beastman looks to the rogue terrified and doesn’t look away from him.
Skeletor: Fear not young Beastman, I won’t hurt you and I shall not let this creature(Bjornen) anywhere near you. You shall come with us as our companion.
DM(ooc): Are you being sincere?
DM: Roll a persuasion check.
(Rolls a 3)
DM: He looks real doubtful at the whole “not hurting me” thing.
Me(IC): Beastman, my friend is being truthful and honest. Trust me, I am a paladin.
Beast man: Paladins killed my mother…
Skeletor(ooc): The D&D equivalent of “Its okay, I’m a cop”
Bjornen(ooc): I bludgeon him unconscious and tie him up. Now Skeletor has his pet.
There’s nothing I hate more than a story that didn’t even try to get its ranks right. Why is a major giving orders to a colonel? Why is a first sergeant working with a bunch of fuzzies? Why the hell did you just call the sergeant major ‘sir’?
Military ranks are different across the branches, but if your story features the U.S. Army, here’s a breakdown of enlisted ranks and rank etiquette. (other branches coming soon!)
Basics Ranks in the army follow a numerical pattern, so if you’re ever not quite sure what the name of the rank higher is, you can reference them by nomenclature. E-series: E stands for enlisted. This refers to soldiers from private to sergeant major. O-series: O stands for officer. This refers to soldiers from second lieutenant to general. O-series post coming soon! W-series: W stands for warrant officer. This refers to soldiers from warrant officer 1 to chief warrant officer 5. W-series post coming soon!
In ACUs, (army combat uniform) the rank is worn in the center of the chest via a velcro patch. In class-A uniforms, the rank is worn on the shoulder.
Each pay grade earns slightly more per month than the one before it. Officers make significantly more money per month than enlisted. Time in service also affects pay, meaning a sergeant who’s been in six years will make more than a staff sergeant who’s been in three years.
E-1: Private Most people who enlist come in at E-1 unless they were in JROTC, have a college degree, or performed some other feat with their recruiters prior to enlisting i.e. volunteer work, good P.T. scores, etc. This is the lowest pay grade and has no rank. Soldiers who are E-1s do not wear a rank. also known as: PV1, fuzzy (because they wear no velcro rank, there’s a patch of bare fuzz in the middle of their uniform. You can buy a patch to cover it.) Title: Private, PV1
E-2: Private Yes, there are two ranks by the name of private. You reach E-2 automatically after six months of enlistment. If you enroll in the Delayed Entry Program or have an acceptable P.T. card with your recruiter, you can enlist as an E-2 instead of an E-1. At E-2, you more or less have no more power than an E-1. also known as : PV2 Title: Private, PV2
E-3: Private First Class The final “private” class. You reach E-3 automatically after 12 months of enlistment, assuming you’ve been an E-2 for at least four months. If you were in JROTC for four years, you enter automatically at this rank. This rank still doesn’t have much power, but may be put in charge of other privates and may assist their team leader with tasks, and on occasion may be a team leader themselves. also known as : PFC Title: Private, PFC.
E-4: Specialist/Corporal The last “junior enlisted” class. You reach specialist automatically after 24 months of enlistment, assuming you’ve been a PFC for at least six months. If you enlist with a completed four year college degree, you can start out as an E-4 instead of an E-1. Specialists tend to be team leaders and may be in charge of other specialists and privates. When no NCOs are present, the senior specialist is in charge.
Corporal, while technically the same pay grade as specialist, is actually an essentially higher rank. It’s a special rank only bestowed on those who are in leadership positions and are awaiting the appropriate time in service/time in grade to be promoted to sergeant. Corporals are considered NCOs while specialists are considered junior enlisted. Strictly speaking corporals and specialists are the same rank, but in most situations, corporals out rank specialists. also known as: shamshields, (specialist only) SPC, CPL Title: Specialist, Corporal
Man, all of that text is boring. Let’s break it up a bit with some rank etiquette, shall we?
• Lower enlisted (E-1 thru E-4) tend to call each other by their surname regardless of rank. Even an E-1 will probably be calling a specialist just by their name. The exception is Corporals, who are considered NCOs and are referred to by rank.
• E-5 and above are referred to as “NCOs,” or non-commissioned officers.
• NCOs with similar ranks might call each other by their surnames and will call lower enlisted by their surnames. When discussing another NCO with a lower enlisted, they will use that NCO’s proper rank. So a sergeant speaking to a PFC will say “Sergeant Smith needs you,” not “Smith needs you.” Freshly promoted sergeants who still hang out with lower enlisted might not mind their friends calling them their surnames in private, but formally and professionally they’re expected to address their senior properly.
• Lower enlisted ranks are often called “joes,” especially when an NCO is addressing another NCO about their squad or platoon. “Have your joes had chow yet?” = “Have the soldiers directly under your command eaten yet?”
• It’s considered inappropriate for lower enlisted to hang out with NCOs and it’s discouraged, especially in the work place.
Are you all rested up? Great! Let’s get back to the ranks.
Finally: the NCO ranks! Unlike the previous ranks, you cannot automatically rank up to sergeant. You must attend special courses and be seen by a promotion board where you’ll be expected to recite the NCO creed and have knowledge appropriate for an non-commissioned officer. From this rank on, lower-ranked soldiers will refer to you as “sergeant” and you will likely be a squad leader or in another leadership position.
• Lower enlisted do NOT refer to sergeants by their surname unless it is paired with their rank. “Sergeant Smith,” not just “Smith,” or your private will be doing a lot of push-ups.
• No one calls them “Sarge.” Like… just don’t do it friends.
• Some pronounce sergeant in such a way it sounds as though the g is dropped entirely. Ser-eant, or phonetically, “saarnt.”
also known as: SGT
E-6: Staff Sergeant
Sergeant Plus. You probably will have similar responsibilities to an E-5, meaning probably a squad leader unless you need to fill in for a platoon sergeant. Don’t misunderstand; in lower enlisted ranks, private and private first class aren’t that much of a difference. E-5 and E-6 are a definite difference though. It is acceptable to call an E-6 either “sergeant” or “sergeant (name)” instead of staff sergeant.
also known as: SSG
E-7: Sergeant First Class
At this point the ranks become known as “senior NCO.” E-7 and above cannot be demoted by normal means. It actually requires a court martial or congressional approval to demote an E-7. Like, it’s surprisingly hard to demote people after this point. I once knew an E-7 who got busted with a DUI and STILL didn’t lose his rank.
Anyway, it’s still appropriate to call an E-7 “sergeant” or “sergeant (name)” instead of sergeant first class. SFCs may be platoon sergeants or in some circumstances may hold a first sergeant position. While positioned as a first sergeant, they should be referred to as “first sergeant.” Unless you work at battalion level or higher, this is probably the highest NCO rank you’ll interact with regularly, and in some cases interacting with an E-7 can be as big a deal as interacting with an E-8.
also known as: SFC
E-8: First Sergeant/Master Sergeant
Another dual-rank. First sergeants are the NCO in charge of a company and are usually the highest ranking NCO soldiers will interact with regularly. They run the company alongside the company commander. All NCOs answer to them and most beginning of the day and end of the day formations will be initiated and ended with them. It is only appropriate to refer to a first sergeant as “first sergeant” or “first sergeant (name).” Do not just call them “sergeant.”
Master sergeants are E-8s who are not in a first sergeant position. Typically these people wind up working in offices in battalion or brigade. It’s only appropriate to refer to a master sergeant as “master sergeant” or “master sergeant (name).”
also known as: 1SG, FSG, (first sergeant only) MSG (master sergeant only)
Titles: First Sergeant, Master Sergeant.
E-9: Sergeant Major or Command Sergeant Major
We finally reach the end of the list: Sergeant Major, the highest ranking NCO. Sergeant Majors will be found at battalion level and higher. Command Sergeant Majors are those that hold a leadership position in a battalion, brigade, etc, like first sergeant vs master sergeant. It is appropriate to refer to E-9s as “sergeant major” or “sergeant major (name).” Typically, a command sergeant major will be referred to AS command sergeant major.
In the U.S., the plural form of sergeant major is “sergeants major.” Outside the U.S., “sergeant majors” can be correct.
also known as: SGM, CSM
Title: Sergeant Major
Now, for the most important announcement:
Soldiers NEVER, and I mean NEVER, refer to an NCO as “sir” or “ma’am.” Forget what the movies tell you; if your first sergeant is chewing you out, you do not say “ma’am, yes ma’am!” You’ll earn yourself some push-ups and some cleaning duty and probably a counseling. Do you see how under every rank I’ve provided a “title” section? That’s how your soldiers address that rank. Period. The only people who get called “sir” and “ma’am” are civilians and officers. Cannot tell you how many movies I’ve rolled my eyes into my skull because some snot-nosed private is calling their squad leader “sir.” Please cease this immediately. Thank you.
That’s all for scriptsoldier’s rank breakdown of enlisted ranks! Stay tuned for our breakdown of officers, warrant officers, and how your rank affects your standing in your unit!
I mean, how far can she go? Not even Sigmund Freud would be able to solve this psychological stalking situation, because Gray is definitely not interested in her that way to actually think about this dangerous being on his own. Definitely not.
It’s canon Gray wouldn’t approve her stalking tendencies. Yeah she stopped about 400+ chapters ago but how can you justify the invasion of Gray’s psyche? She literally has no control of herself. Poor little abused and harassed Gray-sama. We shall call the police maybe. Juvia definitely needs to be reclused in a corner where she cannot stalk him. Freud send help pls.
lmao guys I suck at irony but I needed to write this down.
Juvia Lockser isn’t a stalker and Gray definitely loves her approves her, as more than a friend too.
But he isn’t the only one…
FRIENDLY REMINDER Silver Fullbusteractually left Gray in care of Juvia ( to his stalker omg what kind of father would do that!1! Did she brainwash him? Is Silver anti-gray too?) in other words: HE GAVE HIS BLESSING TO THE COUPLE.
Father’s approval? Mh, a pretty big deal in Japan don’t you think?
The Malec flashback that we shall see, probably in episode 215 that’s called “A Problem of Memory” - I actually HOPE it’ll be an S1 flashback to episode 106, I want to see Alec waking up in Magnus’ apartment with Magnus just lying next to him, looking all ♥_♥. I want this scene to be soft and sweet - before Alec rushes off home, of course. Why?
For one very simple reason: I want to see WHY Magnus fell for Alec so hard that he pursued him despite rejection. I want to see WHAT Magnus saw in Alec that made him think, “This man, that’s him, the love I’ve been waiting for my whole life.” Because Magnus’ tenacity didn’t make much sense to me in S1, considering how closed off Alec was towards him.
So, sure, them boinking would be fun. But not all that important for character building. But this? The cornerstone of their relationship? That’s what I REALLY want to see.
I would love to read a story where Claire never got back together with Frank but instead raised Brianna on her own. So she grew up knowing all about her father all her life when they find out that Jamie is still alive and go back to him.
Soooo gather round the campfire, children, I have a terrible tale to tell and I’m sure there’s a moral at the end somewhere.
In two weeks I’m leaving the country. I was going to do a separate life update post but now this happened and the story kind of overshadows the update.
So because I’m cutting all ties to my life here, I’m down to like a couple of POTs that will still talk to me after I kind of fucked them all over. The one that was any kind of steady income was Nice Guy.
I’m calling him that because he legitimately was a NICE fucking guy. I met him off of WYP, as it’s the only site I still use and he was kind of creepy/ugly when I met him and really socially awkward. I could tell why he needed to be on WYP, basically. We went on three dates whilst I was still in the city and then he actually drove to my area (or what he thought was my area bc I never give my real address) to have a date with me here.
I could just hit Nice Guy up and be like ‘can you send me XXX amount please’ and I was careful not to make the amounts too high- he got really upset if he couldn’t pay. One time I asked him for just £200 and he called me up crying actual tears like ‘I just don’t have it right now, but I really like you’. I knew he could actually afford it as he had a great job, but being the big softie I am I felt really bad for him so I told him not to worry about it and that we could go out casually and talk if he needed to. We didn’t have sex, but we had ‘heated’ Skype calls shall we say. He never pestered me for sex, but I had no intention of giving it to him- especially as I was leaving the country so soon and didn’t need his money. (By the way, I never told him I was leaving).
So, I’m in London for the last time til I leave, staying with my friend, I tell him I’m in the area and he’s like: “Do you want to go to the Savoy?” And my Achilles heel consists of five star London hotels and tiny cucumber sandwiches, so I said yes. You can probably already see where this is going.
So, I put a nice dress on, beat my face, mentally prepare myself for a few hours of his company, and head off to the Savoy. I met him at Victoria and we walked down together, just talking and catching up and EVERYTHING SEEMED ALL FINE AND DANDY. THEN!!
We go in, put up our coats, and I say: “Do you want to go up to the bar first?” It was lunchtime and I was ready for my lunchtime Dom Perignon (just kidding, I’m a basic Sauvignon bitch). And he was like: “We already have a table.” Now. When he said ‘we’, children, what I THOUGHT he meant was ‘you and me’ and what in fact he meant, as I learned thirty seconds later, was him and a bunch of people I’d never seen before in my life.
We walked down into the centre of the room and there was a table next to the piano with about six people sitting around it. I was looking around as he was walking towards it because of course, that couldn’t be our table.
He stopped me in front of the table and just said: “This is makeitrainsugar.” (Not giving you my hoe name) and I was like
WHAT DO THINK YOU’RE DOING???? WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE???
I was giving him ‘this is not okay’ looks the whole time but he just fucking wouldn’t look at my face. I perched next to this lady who said: “I’m Nice Guy’s stepmother.” I shook her hand, trying to think of ways to leave without making a scene.
The other two guys around the table were Nice Guy’s brothers and there was one lady who was his sister and the other two women were the wives of the brothers, but they were just like a fucking blur to me as I sat there. I was just sitting there as the tea came, wondering what I had done to deserve this.
Nice Guy’s brother was like: “So I heard you met on a website.” And Nice Guy was quickly like, “Yeah, yeah, we did.” And I’m just glaring at him like yeah and it was WYP not fucking match dot com this is not part of the deal.
The WHOLE ENTIRE MEAL they were ragging on Nice Guy like ‘when are you going to get a better job?’, ‘why don’t you move to a nicer apartment?’ and Nice Guy was just nodding and trying to joke and it was just sad like I can see why he’s so self-deprecating all the time. Not that that’s an excuse to ambush me.
His brother was like ‘your girlfriend’s too pretty for you.’ Then he looked me In The Eye and said “you need a real man.”
WHAT I NEED IS A TAXI AND AN ASPRIN THANKS ANYWAY
I was just laughing awkwardly the whole time and just regretting all past decisions as they talked about how much of a failure Nice Guy was.
And then, AND THEN, when the bill came they said they’d split it between all of us. No. No, I don’t split bills. I’m not out with my friends, I’m on a POT date.
I looked at Nice Guy like ‘hello?’ but he was just avoiding my eyes so I said: “Sorry, I didn’t bring my purse. Honestly, I thought it would just be me and Nice Guy.” Like hint hint, dumbass.
And Nice Guy STILL didn’t offer to pay, his brother, the real man one, was like: “I’ll get your end. You can pay me back.” With like the nastiest look on his face, like your girlfriend/wife is sitting literally next to you, asshole.
I get up whilst the bill is being paid, because I’m at my limit, I went to the bathroom and I text him to tell me when his family is gone so we can talk.
I wait for like ten minutes and he says they’re gone, I go out and Real Man brother, his wife and Nice Guy’s mother are still there, that lying sack of shit. So I straight up ask Nice Guy if I can talk to him for a minute and he has the audacity to look flustered like he didn’t already know that’s what I wanted.
We walk up to the foyer and I say: “Is there something you want to explain?” And you know what this goddamn man says to me? He presses against my ear and says: “That was so fucking hot.”
Like THAT’S what you have to say, you limp dicked fuck stain??? After putting me through this and all you can do is try and fetishize it?
I said: “How exactly was that hot?” And he says: “I was thinking about fucking you the whole time.”
I’m just staring at him, thinking that a douchebag ghost has possessed him because this was NOT his personality before.
I simply said: “We’re done.” I couldn’t scratch his face because CCTV and security. And I walked out and he didn’t even try to follow me. But he did call me an hour later, apologising, saying that it was his way of saying he loved me. Boy bye.
Anyway, so I suppose I can add this to the long list of ‘experiences’ that I’ve had. The moral of the story is, no matter how nice a Nice Guy seems, if they’re on fucking WYP or any sugaring site. There is always. Something. Wrong. With. Them. Remember that, ladies.
Let’s talk about one of the first realizations we came to this season, shall we?
I’m talking about the first episode. Everyone kept calling Clarke “Wanheda.” Then, at the end, Bellamy calls her “Princess,” reminding her of who she is, and keeping her grounded.
All throughout this season, various characters have been bringing up L.exa a lot. Like… a lot. Some would argue, far more often than is really necessary, and I know there are some people who are getting very tired of it. There are a lot of people who have been upset with the writers for some of the ways they’ve used her name.
Characters, even characters that never saw L.exa and Clarke together would tell Clarke that L.exa would be proud of her. Roan said that Clarke learned nothing from L.exa, and that she’d be disappointed. Clarke herself used L.exa to try and get the grounders not to fight in the conclave.
What if that isn’t as pointless as a lot of us thought? Hear me out.
I think it was a long-term set-up for a parallel of that first episode, leading up to the parallel between L.exa’s betrayal of Clarke and Clarke’s betrayal of Bellamy, specifically involving Clarke’s relationship with love.
Clarke’s character arc this season has been centered around her own leadership, and her struggle to do what is right in that position while also battling her own trauma stemming back from, I think, the massacre at Mount Weather.
All season, as I said, characters have been comparing Clarke’s leadership to L.exa’s—especially Clarke.
Clarke’s opinion of who she thinks she should be has changed because of this. In the City of Light, L.exa said, “I told you my spirit would choose wisely,” which I think played a large role in why Clarke thought it would be okay for her to take the flame. But I digress.
This enormous weight of responsibility and trauma and stress has reached a peak for Clarke in 4x11 when she pulls a gun on Bellamy (as seen paralleled to L.exa’s leaving Clarke and skikru to die in bellarke-stydia’s beautiful gifset).
The question to ask here is: What’s the difference?
L.exa believed that love was weakness, at least at the point of her betrayal. As such, she had no one to talk her down, no one to advise her in a way that she’d listen.
The same is not true for Clarke in season four. It’s been proven over and over again that, to Clarke, love is strength. From The List to “you keep her centered,” Clarke needs to be able to be open with someone—to share the burden.
Everyone has been pressuring Clarke to be more like L.exa, to compartmentalize and do what’s best for her people specifically, no matter the cost. But that’s not who Clarke is. She can’t function like that without breaking, like we’re going to see in 4x11.
Some people are worried about the gun scene in the promo, but in my opinion? We have nothing to fear.
If there’s one difference between the Betrayal parallels, it’s Bellamy. Bellamy’s arc this season has been learning when to know when someone can be saved. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” is true. But Clarke wants to be saved. Her hand shaking so violently in the promo is proof enough of that. Pulling that gun is a cry for help.
Remember Jaha’s line in Day Trip: Part Two? “How many people do you need to save before you forgive yourself?” The answer is, “just one.”
There’s more than one way to save someone. And we’re going to see it when Clarke stops hearing “Wanheda,” and instead hears “Princess.”
The picture on the left is when Luigi first came to me, the picture on the right is the most recent one I’ve taken of him.
The first picture was taken 10th January
The second was taken this Thursday
When he first came to me, I had no idea how to look after a dove. I didn’t plan on having him. I didn’t get him from a rescue. One day my uncle came to the door and said he had an injured baby dove that had smashed into the window of the pub he’d been at. I was the only one who he thought would take it. We think that when he hit the window it had been his first time trying to fly, he didn’t try to fly again until about two months after I’d had him.
His beak was so badly injured that he couldn’t open it to eat. I fed him by adding water to oats, sucking it up in a straw, opening his beak and blowing it down his throat. I don’t know if it was the best way but it was the only way I knew.
He would spend his days out in the house with me, he loved sitting on my head while I watched tv. At night he slept in a big black box, the only thing I had to put him in.
I loved him from the moment I opened the box and I love him even more now. I’ve had to fight my family to keep him, they said that I was ‘a cruel and horrible’ person for keeping a 'wild animal’. Luigi is not wild and he never was. He’s a dove, most species of dove are not wild. He is a garden fantail, they are not wild. He was used to humans the moment he came to us, he may have come from a dove cote. We shall never know. I’ve even had people say they’d call the police on me if I didn’t release him into the wild. I’m glad I stood my ground and didn’t give in. I’m glad that I kept him. I’m glad that I never gave up on him.
He now has all his feathers and spends most of his time outside in the aviary. Oh and yes, yes he still gets bedtime stories.
I want to say thank you to @ramseyringnecks for teaching me so much about pigeons and doves. I was lost on how to care for him until I found your blog. I also want to say thank you to the rest of birblr, it’s a wonderful community and I’m very proud to be part of it.