what if i drop out

sometimes my mom will ask me if i have any advice to help my little sister navigate the treacherous waters of high school and i will never understand why she thinks i can help because in high school i

  • had such a goddamn mess of a backpack it took me ten minutes to find everything, which you would think would inspire me to organize it, but instead i started keeping a rubber chicken and a giant key and a wooden spoon and a fake bag of blood in there so that while i was hunting for my homework i would end up pulling these things out thus transforming my inability to find anything into a hilarious bit instead of a failure of executive function
  • would intermittently become convinced that i had a really obvious moustache and everyone was going to be staring at my awful girlstache, so i would paint on a clark gable stache with liquid eyeliner, thus ensuring that everyone would definitely be staring at my moustache and i wasn’t just paranoid
  • would have emotionally delicate days where i could tell i was going to end up crying for no goddamn reason so i would bring a three-foot tall stuffed toy dog with me, because a teenaged girl crying for no reason is a cliche but a teenaged girl crying into a comically large stuffed dog is performance art
  • dropped out after two years because i felt like i got the gist

“My older brother was my hero growing up.  Everyone called him ‘Jise.’  He was this hip-hop dude.  People loved him, especially the girls.  Everyone knew when he walked into a room.  I was the opposite.  I blended into the crowd.  I was quiet.  I made straight A’s.  I liked comic books and action figures.  So I always looked up to him.  He was murdered one night in 1989.  Somebody shot him.  I was fifteen at the time, and I just kind of gave up.  I thought our family was curs…ed.  I always had this feeling that I was up next.  So it was like, ‘What’s the point of being good?’  I dropped out of school.  I started hanging out with the wrong crowd.  We started robbing people.  I never actually took anything myself.  I just tagged along for the adrenaline high.  Even at my lowest, part of me was always the same good kid.  I always held down a job.  I wrote poetry.  I kept dream journals.  Whenever we were getting into trouble, my friends would always tease me.  They’d say: ‘This isn’t you, man.  Why are you here?’  Hip-hop saved me.  It gave me a voice.  I started doing open mic nights.  I took all those dream journals and turned them into lyrics.  I joined a group called The Arsonists.  We toured all over Europe.  We pressed a lot of records.  Of course I always held down a second job.  My proudest moment was when they wrote about us in The Source.  My stage name was ‘Jise,’ in honor of my brother.  It was like I’d gotten us both there.”

10 years into the future
  • me, a chem teacher: so kids, how was your spring break?
  • some kid: ATTACK ON TITAN SEASON 3 CAME OUT LAST SATURDAY!!
  • me: *softly gasps. a single tear rolls down my cheek* attack on titan season 3....

“I got pregnant when I was twenty-two. It wasn’t planned. The father and I weren’t even in a relationship. But I thought I could handle it on my own. I felt like a modern woman. I was in law school. I wanted to be a diplomat. But oh man, it was hard. I wasn’t emotionally prepared to deal with it. Society doesn’t treat the child of an unwed mother like a blessing. When you’re married and pregnant, people come up and ask all kinds of questions: ‘Is it a boy? Is it a girl? How are you feeling?’ But that doesn’t happen when you’re single. People saw me getting fatter, but everyone avoided the subject. Instead they asked each other: ‘What happened? Do you know anything?’ I felt invisible. I dropped out of law school because I felt so ashamed. Thankfully a few close friends carried me through. My daughter is eighteen now. Everything turned out fine. But I wish I could have enjoyed my pregnancy more.”

(Rio de Janeiro, Brazil)

Ive been doing Supernatural photo ops for a long time now. Five years actually and i usually dont ever get nervous anymore but doing this jensen misha op made me so freaking nervous cause i literally was going have to drop my pants in a room full of people especially Jensen and misha and chris.

  I told iamalive volunteer worker what i was doing and she helped keep me calm so thank you sorry i didnt catch her name.  I was so anticipating their reaction i had no idea what they do.  I dropped my pants and misha broke out with YEAH and kind of waggled his eyebrows at me like he was impressed.  Jensen immediately facepalmed and omg i got same reaction out of him that i got out of Richard ears ago doing the infamous unicorn op. A OMG what has my life become type reaction. LOL

Voice Deepening for Transgender People

Being transgender, your voice tends to give away who you are and so here is some advice to deepen your voice to pass better.

1. Slow down whilst you talk. It has been shown that when you talk slower than normal, your voice tends to drop. And it has been shown that with a slower speaking voice, you look more confident than others. Whenever you talk very fast, it shows that you’re less confident in yourself and your voice becomes higher. So try to make a conscious decision to slow when you talk. 

2. Record your voice. When you hear how your voice sounds through your phone, it simulates what other people hear. So with that, you should record your voice to better understand how to deepen it a little bit better. Then with that, practice with your deeper voice so it isn’t straining whenever you talk to someone. 

3. Play with your voice. Try going high and low all together to better understand your voice. With that information, you can learn if your voice is naturally high or low and work from there.

4. Experiment with your deepened voice. With voices, you need to practice with it in order to make it more natural. And with practicing, you must practice slowly with your new voice. You don’t want your voice to strain your throat and the way you can figure that out is by projecting your voice a little bit and see if it’s comfortable or not. 

5. If you can afford it, take speech or voice acting lessons. With these classes, you can see as to how to speak properly to people. Your instructor will know how to exercise your voice a more professional way to do it. 

If I have left something out, please do not hesitate to drop an ask to tell me what I left out. I hope this helps out my fellow transfolk out there. 

-Kayden  

TWO NIGHTS AGO I LITERALLY ROLLED DOWN THE CAR WINDOW AND SAID “patrick, if you’re listening, drop something, a song, an album, anything i don’t care” AND APPARENTLY MY CALL HAS BEEN ANSWERED I SUMMONED FALL OUT BOY YOU GUYS

I’m an emotional dude, so I wrote a song about it.

The verses are talking about a true story of me being late to class, I was in college trying to do that whole thing because that’s what you’re meant to do I guess, I dropped out after that…the point is, I was late to class and I forgot to lock my door and when I came back out everything had been gutted and stolen out my car. At the time financially I was not able to replace anything that was taken, the GPS, the radio, all my CD’s. When I get in the car my first reaction is to put the radio on and for a while I wasn’t able to do that and finding out that once I removed that piece of me I realised that sometimes music can act as a distraction and can get in the way of where your mind wants to go

—  Tyler Joseph on the song called ‘Car radio’

So it is late and smack in the middle of the week but I just really need a moment to ああああ あ あ あ あ あ あ Natsume Yuujinchou Roku was such a satisfying watch! Here! Just take all my feels!!!  The OP and ED songs were spot on for mood, and when they hit the high notes I just …. *clutches chest*…. 

This season was an especially good watch for me because I wasn’t following many new shows, so I made time to re-watch Seasons 1 to 5 and catch up with the later chapters of the manga. That was a lot of old feels over the years I thought had mellowed out but no, no. In the words of Celine Dion it’s all coming back to me now.  So many things I want to speculate about the current season (Grandpa Natsume?!), the stuff I noticed only during the re-watch ( the kids have been stuck in Second Year for a LOT of seasons! Also Sasada has stopped stalking Natsume everywhere he goes!)  and the old things that I once thought about before (Natsume and that pink shirt he keeps wearing for the first two seasons! Did he accidentally wash all his shirts with the reds when he first moved in? Did he have no new clothes? Is that why?! ) So many feels, so little time!  

anonymous asked:

Any fic recs?

Yes! (Some are a bit old because I haven’t read many fics these past few days, but they’re still gold.) As usual, read the notes/tags for any warnings! Happy reading x

what this world is about by isntrio / 34k

An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.

Alternatively titled: the beginning.

Push My Buttons by KrisStylinson / 1.7k

“Fuck off.” Louis leans into this boy’s personal space just to show how unaffected he is, even if it is technically a bluff. “My team’s winning.”

The boy crowds right back into him with a smug look, and that turns out to be their downfall—a large man to his left nudges his arm and gestures to the jumbotron, where Louis and fucking Newsboy are currently encased in a cartoon heart with the words KISS CAM burning brightly above them.

Dance Like Warriors On A Battlefield  by whoknows / 20k

Down in the arena, the triumphant gladiator places his foot on the back of the loser, holding him there as he waits for instruction on his next move. Kill or let live. It’s barbaric, really, the bloodlust involved in this sport. Louis is pretty sure that if it wasn’t for his distaste for the killing there would be a lot more blood soaking that sand.

As it is, his father rarely gives the kill order anymore. He gives the order to let the loser live. Louis rolls his eyes, turning away. He doesn’t miss the way the gladiator’s eyes linger on him.

Not Quite by emma1234 / 34k

Niall gives Harry an exasperated look, nodding slowly. “Okay…so do you want to explain why we’re hiring Louis? And do you want to explain it without making any mention of his soft hair or ample buttocks?”

As Harry prepares for the premiere of his first blockbuster film, his manager encourages him to hire a bodyguard as a precautionary measure. Harry ends up making an unusual choice.

Kun when he finally debuts: So thank you for SM Entertainment finally recognizing my potential and unchaining me from the basement, for Hansol who I shared long conversations about some noodle-haired anime dude who betrayed him too-I get it, my home boy-and to my angels Jungwoo and Yukhei who are always there for me. I wanna mention Renjun and Chenle who grew so fast I thought I spent more than a century in the basement, what did they feed you. 

Kun: And to the bitch who had forgotten me while I was rotting in the basement thinking I won’t get out-

Kun: Winwin, what’s gud? *mic drop*

Ed Sheeran - ERASER (lyrics) Extended F64 Version

[Verse 1]
I was born inside a small town, I’ve lost that state of mind
Learned to sing inside the Lord’s house, but stopped at the age of nine
I forget when I get awards now the wave I had to ride
The paving stones I played upon, they kept me on the grind
So blame it on the pain that blessed me with the life
Friends and family filled with envy when they should be filled with pride
And when the world’s against me is when I really come alive
And everyday that Satan tempts me, I try to take it in my stride
You know that I’ve got whisky with white lines and smoke in my lungs
I think life has got to the point I know without it’s no fun
I need to get in the right mind and clear myself up
Instead, I look in the mirror questioning what I’ve become
I guess it’s a stereotypical day for someone like me
Without a nine-to-five job or an uni degree
To be caught up in the trappings of the industry
They showed me the locked doors I find another use of key
And you’ll see

[Chorus 1]
I’m well aware of certain things that will destroy a man like me
But with that said give me one more, higher
Another one to take the sting away
I am happy on my own, so here I’ll stay
Save your lovin’ arms for a rainy day
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser

[Verse 2]
I used to think that nothing could be better than touring the world with my songs
I chased the pictured perfect life, I think they painted it wrong
I think that money is the root of evil and fame is hell
Relationships and hearts you fixed, they break as well
And ain’t nobody wanna see you down in the dumps
Because you’re living your dream, man, this shit should be fun
Please know that I’m not trying to preach like I’m Reverend Run
I beg you, don’t be disappointed with the man I’ve become
Our conversations with my father on the A14
Age twelve telling me I’ve gotta chase those dreams
Now I’m playing for the people, dad, and they know me
With my beat and small guitar wearing the same old jeans
Wembley Stadium crowd two hundred and forty thou
I may have grown up but I hope that Damien’s proud
And to the next generation, inspiration’s allowed
The world may be filled with hate but keep erasing it now
Somehow

[Chorus 2]
I’m well aware of certain things that will befall a man like me
But with that said give me one more, higher
Another one to take the sting away
I am not beyond my own, so here I’ll stay
Save your lovin arms for a rainy day
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser
And I’ll find comfort in my pain
Eraser

[Verse 3]
I woke up this morning lookin’ in the mirror
Thinkin’ to myself that I should probably be thinner
The industry told me to look like them
But I found my happiness in fried food for my dinner
I wish that she could have been my first time
And I wish that I’d never took that first line
And I wish that every word in this verse rhymed
But forgive me if it doesn’t
I wish that I could make peace with my older cousin
I wish he didn’t think that it was me when it wasn’t
I wish I didn’t love it when I’m high and my face feels buzzin’
And the taste stays underneath my tongue
Wish that I had known what to do as a youngling
Wish I hadn’t dropped out of school and missed every single party
With that hardly matters now, man, does it?
Wish I had an answer to everything, but fuck it
I wish creatin’ art didn’t come with a budget
But while we’re on the subject
I wish my private life would have never gone public
But that’s the sacrifice that we make
Spendin’ my whole time high livin’ life away

[Chorus 3]
Singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish
I’m singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish

[Verse 4]
I wish my family and friends they stay healthy
I wish that love was a currency and the whole world was wealthy
I found myself late night wishin’ on a star
Everyday I wish I’d never broken a heart, uh
And I wish I’d never run to
Every woman that I loved that kept my life and what it’s come to
I wish I was the role model you looked up to
If I told my fans the things I did they’d say, “Fuck you”
I wish I was home more
I wish my teens could see the kids on the birthdays, but yo, we’re on tour
And I wish I’d grow more, wish I told more
People that I love ‘em but it’s in the music that I’m known for
And I wish he never got cancer
And if I smoke a pack a day, well, does that make me a wanker?
Oh yes, I guess it does, and we’re still stressin’ 'cause
Every day this shit gets the best of us
Usin’ my balance on eraser blades
Spendin’ my whole time high wishing life would wait

[Chorus 3]
Singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish
I’m singin’ this is how we’re livin’ down here
Sittin’ on the edge, lookin’ out without fear
Yeah, we got drama but you know we don’t care
I wanna see you sing it, put your hands in the air, one wish

[Verse 5]
I’m using jumpers for goalposts, cigarettes for throat cold
Mum sayin’, “Don’t smoke,” no, I don’t listen, I got
Love for a ghost note, shows on the gold coast
People that I don’t know share the same vision
I find truth in the hard times and words that aren’t mine
Tryin’ to find a love with a compatible star sign
Sometimes I can’t write, sentences can’t rhyme
Starin’ at my notepad quick, I’m tryin’ to find mine
Shit, quick before I hit it again
Surrounded in the industry by all these ignorant men
And who knew that I’d be paid just to pick up a pen
Just let me hit the studio when we can rip it again
I’m a competitive dick, with an adrenaline kick
My daddy told me work hard and you can never be shit
I’ve seen all my heroes dethroned except my dad
Set back here reminiscing 'bout the times we had
One wish


(x)

Five Times Chat Noir Failed at Flirting and One Time He Didn’t

Written for Day 13 of Marichat May. Sin comes from a Greek word that apparently also means missing the mark. So, this fic is Chat Noir missing the mark.

Thank you @agrestenoir for helping to come up with this idea.


Things had been a little awkward since the day Chat Noir and Ladybug learned each other’s identities. They still worked well together as a team, and they still saw each other every day, but something was different. Marinette was still friendly as ever, and Ladybug still joked around, but it wasn’t quite the same. She was all business during akuma attacks, and she hardly spoke to him after they detransformed. The more he considered it, the more he realized it all happened the day she found out he was Chat Noir.

The only way that made sense was if, for some reason, Marinette didn’t like him. Either Adrien him or Chat Noir him. Either option was confusing, given that she was always friendly to Chat Noir and Adrien alike, but it was the only thing that made sense.

Plus, it was something he could possibly correct if he tried hard enough. After all, they were partners and friends, which had to mean something.

So, when he saw her walking home alone late at night, he was only too happy to greet her.

“Hey, princess,” Chat Noir called down to Marinette. “Need a lift?”

She jumped and turned to look up at him. “Chat Noir? What are you doing out here?”

He dropped down beside her. “Well, I was just doing a little solo patrolling. What are you doing out so late?”

“I was just walking home from school. Alya and I were working on our history project together.” She frowned. “Why are you out patrolling alone? I could have joined you.”

“I… well…” He shrugged. “I was actually just getting some fresh air. You look like you could use an escort, though.”

She snorted. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He winked. “ It would be my purrleasure-”

She shook her head, her grip on her schoolbooks tightening. “You should head home, Adrien. We’ll be patrolling tomorrow anyway.”

Keep reading

Gasoline [unfinished WIP, KHR]

Going through my folders and posting what isn’t going to be finished or is dropped, so I can get it out for good and focus on what I do want to write.

Warnings for: born-a-female-Tsuna, mentions of attempted marital rape, forced marriages, drug-induced death and general mafia behavior.

Summary: Prior to marrying Iemitsu, Nana was a very accomplished black widow. Tsuna shouldn’t have to follow in her footsteps like this, but Vongola has left her no choice in the matter. So she will have the mafia fear her as she once feared them, and she will survive.

———–

Prior to marrying Iemitsu, Nana Sawada went under a different name, and was a very accomplished black widow. She slipped poison in drinks and drugs where nobody would think to look, put needle marks in skin and occasionally knives in the backs of men who treated her like an object rather than a person.

Tsuna never wanted to learn such lessons. She wanted her marriage, when it finally did happen, to be the once-in-a-lifetime event her mother gushed about having with Iemitsu. After the mafia came and ruined her life, she still clung to feeble hopes that maybe she could still get that.

But it isn’t to be.

Timoteo intends to make a statement, one way or another. Unfortunately, even if a woman should rule as Decima, she must still have a husband. And Xanxus isn’t about to touch the woman that froze him once upon a time. So he’s reached out beyond Vongola to allied families, and they’ve sent their best to him. And now he’s made a choice, and once again he’s forcing it on her.

Tsuna can lie to everyone but herself; she’s afraid. Terrified, in fact. The thought of a stranger touching her makes her want to vomit. The thought of this man breathing in her general vicinity makes her want to vomit, actually. She shakes and quivers and hides beneath her bedcovers, and for once, Reborn says nothing. He doesn’t scold her. He slides a mug of hot chocolate topped with enough whipped cream to give her diabetes her way, wordlessly tipping his hat down as he leaves the room. It doesn’t take someone of Reborn’s calibre to know the man doesn’t like this any more than she does. But he’s her tutor, not her father (no matter how much she wishes otherwise some days), and so he can only stand back and watch this trainwreck.

Maybe that’s why she confides in her mother. Why when everyone is gone, Tsuna goes downstairs, starts to speak, and then bursts into tears. Everything comes rushing out, every lie about the mafia she’s ever told, and she begs her mother’s forgiveness for the lies, and Nana gives it readily, wrapping arms around her and letting her cry into a warm shoulder. The tears eventually leave, and Nana sits her down, gets her a glass of cold water, and begins to tell her a story.

It is not a nice story.

But it teaches Tsuna what she needs to know to survive. Because Nana was once a prominent black widow that nobody could ever track down. Her husbands died of natural causes - all the autopsy reports say so - and while people had their suspicions, there was no evidence for them to pin her with. And after a time, she’d learned how to disguise herself, going from one husband to the next.

Now she cups Tsuna’s small hands in her own, and drops the mask she uses around everyone. “Tsunako, do you want to learn how?”

Tsuna can’t say yes fast enough.

———–

Her first husband dies to poison.

It’s tradition, her mother insists, when she shows Tsunako had to make a clear, tasteless, odorless toxin that’s practically untraceable once its inside the system. It’s homegrown, and Nana is a perfectionist at teaching it. She has Tsuna make batch after batch after batch until eventually she gets everything perfect. And then she gets a dropper and begins to administer one drop to Tsunako a day.

One drop doesn’t kill her. It makes her feel like shit, but she muscles through it, because a true poison user is protected against whatever they brew. Bianchi is the same way - she can eat whatever she makes and the poison won’t kill her or even make her queasy. Nana is immune to whatever toxins she injects into the veins of others, and eventually Tsuna will be too. They have time - the wedding isn’t due for a while, and nobody is going to force her and her husband together until then.

Tsuna sees Reborn watching them, once, but he vanishes too quickly for her to ask him if he’s going to tell anyone what she’s doing. She doesn’t ask afterward, because there’s a look in his eyes that’s… proud. It makes her feel warm, and when he drills her on her lessons later on, she doesn’t complain, driven by her twin desires to survive what’s coming, and make the man that has become her father in so many ways proud.

Spring passes into summer, and the wedding is held. People flock from all over to see it, and Tsuna is dressed to the nines and sent out at the alter. Her husband is a tall, weedy-looking young man who looks far too smug. She hates him at once, and his oily touch doesn’t remedy that.

The poison is not in his drink, but in her lipstick, and when they kiss (him pressing far too close, too hard, disgusting) she feels a sense of predatory satisfaction. The next morning she wakes up and screams, which brings the bodyguard outside the door running. She plays the part of the horrified wife, discovering her husband’s cold, lifeless body in bed. They rush the body away, and bring her to Reborn to keep her safe while they go question guests and comb through the drinks menu.

Reborn eyes her fingernails, but his eyes flicker upwards when she taps her lip in pretend thought. There’s a ghost of a smile across his face, but it fades once the door opens and Timoteo enters, looking both furious and terrified. He questions her if she feels ill, or if anything felt off at the wedding. She answers no to both, wringing her hands and playing up the ‘Dame-Tsuna’ act to full effect. It works, and the old man leaves.

“You’ve been hanging around Bianchi too much,” Reborn murmurs, not moving his lips, and Tsuna has to bite her own to hold back her return of its not Bianchi I’ve been spending so much time with lately, but you already know that.

————–

The death is passed off as a heart attack a week later when no results come up showing foul play. Tsuna doesn’t even get to play the widow in mourning before Timoteo’s given her another husband, this time in the form of a 40 something lech that’s like every old man out of a hentai. The old man gropes her and laughs too loudly and tries to sneak a hand up her dress to cop a feel, but Tsuna smacks his hand away and smiles the same smile her mother does at home even as her stomach rolls and her anger burns a hole through her heart.

He tries to take her no less than four separate time against various walls, each time growing more and more impatient and annoyed when Tsuna darts away. The poison is in her nails this time, and when he finally grabs her too hard she scratches him ‘on accident’ and then demands he leave her alone, she doesn’t want to be touched. She closes herself off in her room and locks the door. Her new husband pounds on it and snarls demands, but she puts her headphones on and ignores him until eventually he gives up and goes away.

This poison is far more slow-acting, and it doesn’t strike until early the next morning during breakfast. Bianchi and Reborn have taken her out to a nearby cafe for breakfast, citing ‘comfort food in these troubling times and a female shoulder to cry on’. In reality Bianchi wants to know her methods and trade tips, and Reborn pays for a tiny cake and congratulates her on finding sneaky solutions to her problems.

“I thought you’d go running off and tell Timoteo,” she confesses to her tutor. Reborn gives her a look.

“I’ve been around this business long enough to know how these things go, Tsuna. Trust me, I don’t judge you one iota for what you’re doing. But you should probably change your methods here shortly.”

She nods, having already planned to use a needle on whoever the unfortunate third soul is. They finish breakfast and head home, laughing and talking about whatever strikes their fancy, and when they arrive home its to a Timoteo that looks far older than before. “Grandfather? What’s wrong?”

He gives her a pitying look. “There’s… there’s been another death, my dear.”

She drops to her knees in shock, Bianchi by her side instantly, hooking an arm around her shoulders and murmuring comforting words as she ‘helps’ Tsunako up. Reborn’s face is shadowed, but Tsuna can see the sparkle in his eyes from her position. “What happened?” she asks in what she hopes is the right tone of voice.

Later, Reborn toasts her in the privacy of the bedroom, and Bianchi congratulates her on another job well done. This death is passed off as a choking accident, as apparently the man had been shoving as much food in his gullet as possible when the poison had kicked in. Nobody had managed to get to him in time to prevent the ‘choking’, which just made the victory all the easier.

You Steal the Air out of My Lungs (You Make Me Feel It)

*click through to read on ao3

written by: Emily | @prosciuttoe

prompt: ‘I know that you think I hate you but I swear to God I didn’t mean to hit you with my car.‘

word count: 2815

The funny thing is, under entirely different circumstances, Clarke’s pretty sure that she and Bellamy Blake could have been friends.

The first time she meets him, Kane is introducing them and he’s supposed to be showing her the ropes, since it’s her first day at the bookstore. He has a well-worn copy of Howl’s Moving Castle sticking out of his bag, freckles, and dark, messy curls that Clarke really wants to run her fingers through. (She’s… pretty intrigued, if she’s being entirely honest.)

But then he opens his big, stupid mouth, and suddenly all of her feelings of goodwill go up in smoke, because Bellamy Blake is, undoubtedly, a massive asshole.

He won’t stop calling her Princess, for one, and makes a face every time she so much as asks a question about the cash register. The constant jibes about her having gotten the job due to nepotism (so their boss may also be her mom’s fiancé, sue her) certainly don’t help either, and he actually laughs when a book display falls on her foot.

Suffice to say, he is definitely not her favorite person. On particularly bad days, she entertains a fantasy or two of shoving him down a flight of stairs. On worse ones, she dreams of pushing him down a manhole.

Still, murderous tendencies aside, Clarke doesn’t mean to actually run him over with her car.

Keep reading