Oh my God, we're so sorry we blocked your doorway. Now go get your ear muffs.
I’ve had a long respectable career in game development. A couple of years ago I’ve abandoned it for a cushy corporate job, and now spend most of my days missing gamedev.
This story takes place about 10 years ago at the apex of my career.
I was the lead on a AAA project. Our parent company, for which videogames was just one of many lines of business, was going through changes. We had to move offices three times in one year. Second of the three moves, always intended to be temporary, put us into the basement of an older building long occupied by satellite departments not involved with development.
The basement we were given had been empty for years, save for the most distant office. You entered the basement through a dimly lit staircase. Then, after you snaked through a horror-movie-like maze of corridors and interconnected small rooms, you’d eventually arrive at the farthest room of all.
So our DM has a special rule in his sessions to keep things fresh. On character creation we designate what our ultimate life goal for the character is. If this goal is achieved, the character retires unless he/she has found a new worthy goal to work towards. These characters hang around a guild the oldest character created to swap stories and help out the newbies. If you earned the Guildmaster’s favor, she gave you a one time use magic mirror to call in some backup.
Our party is currently infiltrating a cult of snake worshippers and had just been found out. Outnumbered, they were running through the broken down temple the cult had been using.
Fighter: “You just had to drag every ’s’ in front of the head guy!”
Wizard: “I hate you so much…”
DM: as you round the corner, you see they cult members have blocked the door and all of the exits. The moon hangs high in the sky, which means that any guards around this slum had long since left their posts.
Fighter: “I guess we are gonna have to fight. There’s too many of them.”
Wizard: “Wait! I’m gonna use the mirror!”
The DM gets a huge smile: “Ok! Lets see who you get!”
We hear about 4 dice rolls and some shuffling of paper as he pulls out the character sheet.
DM: “Everyone make a perception check.”
Everyone rolls above 10.
DM holds his phone above the screen and plays the Pacific Rim theme. Bard’s player cheers!
DM: “As you stand your ground against the cultists, you feel a rumble in the ground. You look to once of the stained glass windows to see a huge shadow raise it’s arm. With a shatter, a huge fist crashes through and you hear a young voice yell ‘Here I come to save the day!’”
The mirror had called in Stevie, a ten year old artificer character who’s goal was to construct the ultimate bully deterrent. He had succeeded with a Huge shield guardian who he affectionately named, “Bubba.”
When trans students are told that they cannot use public facilities, it doesn’t only block them from the toilet — it also blocks them from public life. It tells them with every sneer, every blocked door, that we do not want to see them, that they should go hide and that ultimately they do not belong. When schools become hostile environments, students cannot turn to them. Instead they are pushed out. And without an education, it makes it that much more difficult to find a job, and support themselves and survive. That is the situation the Trump administration is creating. Despite the culture of fear, ignorance and intolerance that permeates our country right now, I am here to tell each and every student that you belong, and that nothing — absolutely nothing — is wrong with you.
As I explained in this analysis HERE the new BTS logo: This coming era will mark a new beginning. Bangtan are going to the other side of the room like shown in the picture below. However, only Jungkook is not moving forward towards the gate, this VCR shown during their Wings Tour makes us believe even more that this is a strong clue for the next comeback.are going to the other side of the room like shown in the picture below. However, only Jungkook is not moving forward towards the gate, this VCR shown during their Wings Tour makes us believe even more that this is a strong clue for the next comeback.
What is the VCR about?
BTS are in a white room. The color white is the color of are in a white room. The color white is the color of perfection. In color psychology white is the color ofcolor psychology white is the color of new beginnings.It is the blank canvas waiting to be written upon. The room is filled with objects representing each members’ past or even the whole team (we have seen them before in past MVs).The members are looking at them as to say:“we are not forgetting neither ignoring where we came from nor how much we learned from all of it”. Red roses represent perfection and love. However, the ones jungkook find in his hand are deep red roses that can be used to convey heartfelt, regret and sorrow. He looks up and the next room is big, bright with no door blocking it and It is raining red petals that express a huge amount of love. The roses are used accompanied with bright white lighted room to express ARMYs love and support to BTS (The ones that have negative feelings get easily outnumbered thanks to the love of Armys around the world) In this VCR too Jungkook just walk by the gate. What is holding him down? Will the next comeback have the answer?
You’ve never despised a word so much in your god damn life. It mocks you, rips every little aggravation from the world and throws it right into your fucking face. It’s turned your life completely and totally upside down. Then it spun you the fuck around just to make sure you’re officially screwed.
Having just moved from New York two weeks ago, you can now call Nashville home. Forget a different state, you feel like you’re in a freaking different reality. The friendly residents alone throw you for a loop. You’re slightly convinced that they have some ulterior motive. Then again considering the shady fuckers in your past, you could just be paranoid.
Growing up in a big city has given you a tough exterior that the men around here seem to be intimated by. It must be the way you carry yourself, also the permanent bitch face that you’ve acquired over the years.
Summary: Jungkook is your brother’s annoying best friend. You can’t stand him but he just can’t resist teasing you. How far will he actually go?
Warnings: slight language
Jungkook was one of the only things on your mind for days. He’d kissed you… and then run off. At the end of the game he’d simply smirked at you, sending a wink your way before slinging an arm around Jimin and laughing as Jimin gloated about their victory.
You sighed, pushing your books into your locker. It was Friday and all you wanted to do was call Taehyung and have him bring snacks over to your house for a movie night.
You pushed your locker closed and jumped back at the figure that had been standing behind the door, blocked from your view.
“What the hell! Jungkook you can’t do shit like that,” you said, placing a hand over your heart as you looked at him.
Shortly before Remus Lupin’s fifth birthday, as he slept peacefully in his bed, Fenrir Greyback forced open the boy’s window and attacked him.
Remus Lupin’s full bio, Pottermore.
This is a disturbing bit of information. A lot is said with so little, as is perhaps Jo’s hallmark, but imagine the implications here.
At this particular time, Remus is four years old. He is at the age where many children are sent to attend preschool, and he is able to finally play outside by himself, to eat his own food at the table without any help, and is highly intrigued by humor and makes “poo-poo” jokes just to be daring and self-confident–because he can, because he’s a big kid now. He’s at an age where he is less a toddler and more a true child. He’s more adventurous and daring, and begins to explore his own personality. Remus is a happy child who probably giggles a lot and jumps on the bed just because Daddy said no.
Many children do not remember things before their third or fourth birthday, but Remus is nearing five years old. Whether or not he would have remembered this event in it’s entirety, the event would have been lasting in his mind and Remus would be left with a glaring image that is neither complete truth nor total lie. For Remus, this event was almost surely the “beginning of his life.” In the strange way none of us remember anything before this breakaway point and “none of it happened,” Remus probably does not remember anything before this attack. This was both the literal and figurative birth of Remus Lupin, werewolf.
Moreover, the nature of the attack is clearly hinted at and the potential horror is astounding. Werewolves don’t force open windows. Paws cannot force open windows. This means that Fenrir Greyback had to have entered the Lupin household before moonrise, just prior to his transformation. He did it silently, because Remus fails to grasp at such a young age that the attack was purposeful. He wasn’t scared until the attack itself. But the noise level is irrelevant, because even if there was silence before once the moon rose it wouldn’t have mattered. Four-year-old Remus would be trapped in his bedroom watching a man transform into a murderous beast right in front of him, and although he screams as loud as he can if Fenrir had time to pry open the window he probably had time to block the door. Lyall can’t get to his son in time, whatever happened. And that kind of trauma is lasting. Whenever Remus goes to sleep now, he is terrified of the memory. He is plagued with nightmares. He is so sick because he’s so small, and he can’t possibly understand why.
Until it happens. Until Remus becomes the thing that haunted his dreams for a month, and nothing can fix that. Much of our personality is formed in these tender years, and the psychological impact of the attack would actually continue to affect Remus for the rest of his life. Not just physically, but psychologically, as well. More than nightmares and new fears, Remus must deal with the new reality of his parents constantly looking tired, constantly worrying, constantly moving around, constantly lying. And Remus can’t help but think it’s his fault, because he’s the sick one. If he wasn’t sick, everything would be better.
That one sentence in the expanse of Remus’ bio is as descriptive as much of the remaining text. And there’s something to be said in the end that Remus’ boggart was not Fenrir. It was not fear of the event that tormented him in childhood, but of his own lack of control during his loss of control. Whatever else the event could have continued to do to him, it didn’t dominate him. Being a werewolf was Remus’ life, of course. Everything he did came through that filter. But he did not hate Fenrir for what he was. He says that he pitied the man who bit him at first, knowing how it felt to transform. But Remus never openly hates Fenrir. He hates that he himself is a werewolf more than he hates the man who made him so, and that’s a huge sign of internal character. That’s who Remus really is when we cut through layers of stigma and self hate.
- lovers live and die, fortissimo
- it hurts when love fades
-if intelligence was the only criteria, would i need a psychiatrist?
-bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch
-do i love him? no.
-she saves lives and i save chicken fat, how am i supposed to fucking deal with that?
-i never wanted to love you
-i hate the world
-love is blind, love can tell a million stories
-does she sleep in the nuuuuuuuuuuuuuude??
-my father says that loooove is the most beeeeeaautiful thing in the world
-kid, be my son
-it’s about time to grow up, don’t you think?
-homosexuals. (long pause)
-naaancy reaaagaaan (yabba dabba)
-pretty boys are in demand
-set to screw
-oh my god, when am i gonna get over this?
-nervous wrecks (hhuhhhhhhh)
-one day i’d like to be as mature as my son, who is twelve years old
-stop! this is so much crap
-how you can stop with the prayers at a bar mitzvah??
-i’ll bring women from the wrong side of the tracks ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
-be alright for the rest of your life
-the lesbians from next door!!
-chiiiild (chiiiiild) chiiiild (chiiiild)
-i like when julie johnson does splits in her kilt ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
-without you, my life would be boring as shit.
-never nevEr nevER nEvER NEVER??
-you’re looking sweeter than a donut
-is he still queer? (am i still queer)
-i wanna tOucH iT
-iiiii waaaanaaa ruuuun my haandddsss throuuugh eeettttt
-even maniacs can charm, which he will
-please god, don’t let me make the same mistake
-at least, there’s trina
-for the first time in months, nobody died! (yyyyaaaaaaaaeeeeyyyy!!)
-light bulbs up the ass
-sex and games in new york city have got to played with flair!
-play it raw, don’t play it pretty
-you have paintings of dicks don’t talk to me about taste
i’m getting tired, feel free to reblog and add more!
A/N: Let me know if you like this one! It’s my first little piece of writing and I would really appreciate the feedback!
The mattress squeaks under duress as you
land with a loud thud. You don’t know how you managed to find a room without barging
into horny youngsters trying to savour every inch of each other. Thankfully you
didn’t, and you were gracious for the moment of peace the silence gave you (even
if the bass was slightly pouring through the closed door). It wasn’t normal for
you to be drinking so much; you usually were the one taking care of Harry when
he had a bit too much to drink. Dealing with drunk Harry was like dealing with
an over affectionate boyfriend. There’s lots of sweaty kisses on your cheek, and
the occasional “really do love yeh, pet,
ever since we met” followed by you stuffing his mouth with bread to ignore
the slight swirl you’d feel from his words. And regardless of the amount of
alcohol he drank, Harry would practically beg for a cuddle with you. He’d claim
it’s because your five foot build fits so
perfectly with his, but he knows he wouldn’t get a chance if he was sober,
so he uses his slightly intoxicated state to breathe words he’d never say and
actions he’d never do.
“And where is Harry now?” a little voice murmured.
A tiny jab of irrational jealousy
poured through you as you were reminded of his arms wrapped around another
girl, who, in your opinion, had a little
less clothing on than most. You watched them together - his eyes taking in her
body, reaching forward to whisper something she’d inevitably giggle at. You’d
see the way she’d looked at him, like he was some God, born with the body and charisma
that would make any girl swoon. You couldn’t blame them of course, his mixture
of cocky and confident drew people to him. For you, it was his
adorable sense of humour and his pursuit to bring happiness to anyone he cared
for. And that allowed you two to become friends. Good friends. Close friends. Right?
A/N: i wasn’t too sure about writing or posting this at first, but after thinking it over multiple times, i decided to just do it. thankyou so much to my baby @dylanobsessed for encouraging me that this was a good. i hope that by putting this out to you guys in such a way, will make you more aware of someone’s true intentions with you.
Parties had never been my thing. The idea of being almost suffocated by intoxicated bodies never really tickled my fancy. But, this was Lydia’s party and God knows she’d have my head on a stick if I didn’t attend. It was only an hour in, and I had already drunk more than intended.
You see, I hardly drink. Being seventeen and best friends with the “popular girl” would make you believe that I party and drink all the time. But I don’t. However, when I do occasionally drink, you’d think I was a forty year old alcoholic who’s husband and kids just left with his secretary.
That moment when Whizzer reappears in his normal clothes and they start singing What Would I Do, and at the end they get closer, and you are hopeful and then Whizzer’s side gets dark and Marvin is the only one under the lighting. And then Whizzer walks away.
It’s so geniusly planned and so heartbreaking.
Everytime I watch that part on a bootleg (yes, I watched the bootleg and I’m sorry) I’m desperately sobbing not only because of the story, but also of how beautiful and breathtaking it is.
A/N; Honestly I’m not really sure where I’m going with this. If you want a part 2 though let me know!! Feedback is encouraged! :)
Pairings; Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader
- It had been almost 3 years since Bucky became an avenger. And it had been almost 3 years since you developed the biggest crush ever.
He had sauntered into the compound and looked at you with those piercing blue eyes and that was it. Ever since then you’d been inseparable. The bestest friends ever, but that was it, nothing more.
The only other person who knew about your feelings was your best friend Nat. She’d been trying to encourage you to tell Bucky how you felt for years but you couldn’t, you were almost positive that he didn’t see you that way and didn’t want to ruin your friendship.
You always told her “Something is better than nothing.” To which she’d dramatically roll her eyes.
You were looking down at the book you were currently reading but couldn’t focus on the words. All you could hear was the high pitched giggling coming from the kitchen and every note pierced your heart. It was one of the many girls Bucky would bring over when he was ‘lonely’.
He strolled over to you, coffee in hand. “Hey doll, whatcha readin’?” He asked as he sat down next to you and handed you the hot mug.
You smiled and grabbed the coffee from him. “Thanks Buck. It’s uh-”
He grabbed the book from your lap before you could protest and read aloud. “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
He paused for a second, his cheeks going lightly pink and looked at you. Your eyes met and it seemed like his eyes glossed over before he let out a loud awkward chuckle.
What the hell was that about? You thought.
His eyes were still lingering on you as the blonde girl came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He jumped slightly and turned to look at her. “Honey we should let her read, come on let’s go back to bed.” She purred. He looked visibly uncomfortable as he stood up and followed her down the hall.
As you stared into your mug urging your eyes not to water and trying to suppress the stabbing feeling in your chest, you missed when Bucky turned back to look at you, a hopeless longing in his eyes.
* * *
A few hours later you were in your workout gear pummeling a punching bag, imagining a certain blonde.
Why couldn’t you be enough, why couldn’t he see you as more. What were you doing wrong.
Why. Why. WHY.
You felt hands touch your waist and turned just as fast sweeping their legs out from under them. There was a thud and an “Ow! (y/n)!”
Steve was laying splayed out on his back looking vengeful.
“Oh Steve! I’m sorry! Instinct.” You shrugged as you helped him up.
“It’s okay it was my fault, shouldn’t have snuck up on ya like that.” He smirked. “So what’s got ya so angry?” He pointed at the still swaying punching bag.
“Honestly I don’t even want to talk about it.” You sighed.
“Wanna practice then? We do have a mission tomorrow.” He smirked again inching towards you.
“Rogers, don’t even try.” You ran at him flipping over his shoulders and he turned slowly, not expecting it.
Just then Bucky walked by the door of the training room, but you were too distracted by Steve to notice.
He sauntered over to you and got right up in your face. Grinning he pushed a strand of hair out of your face. You were always very fond of Steve and had a flirty relationship but never took it any further. With one swift movement he took you down and was straddling your hips inches away from your face.
Bucky couldn’t watch any longer, a lump growing in his throat as he walked away feeling defeated.
Just as he left you flipped Steve over and put him in a head lock. “I win!” You sang cheerfully.
There was clapping from behind you and you both turned to see Nat walking in. “I want in on this!”
The three of you spent the rest of the afternoon training together until you were all too tired and sweaty.
* * *
The next morning you met in the hanger fully dressed in your gear. This mission wasn’t going to be all of you. It was just a simple mission to retrieve information from a Hydra base.
As you, Bucky, Steve and Nat got into the quinjet you tried to make eye contact with Bucky but he wouldn’t meet your gaze.
“Alright, Nat and I will go in through the front and (y/n) and Bucky will go through the back.” Steve said over the comm. “You two will take out anyone in your way and get to the communications room, there should be computers. Back up the information to a USB and get out of there as fast as you can. Nat and I will check for prisoners and take out anyone else. Everyone understand?”
We all nodded in unison. Thirty minutes later everyone was in position. You and Bucky made your way inside, working together to take out the four guards blocking the door. He still wouldn’t meet your gaze as you crept down the dark hallways. A man came from your left, you didn’t see him in time and there was a direct hit to your side, you crumpled to the ground as you heard Buckys metal arm hit the guy and he went down.
Bucky helped you to your feet, your face only inches apart. “Watch yourself next time.” He said in a flat tone as he turned to walk down the hall.
You reached out and grabbed his hand to pull him back. “What did I do that made you so upset?” You asked quietly.
His cold eyes bored into yours. “Why don’t you ask your boyfriend.”
You stood there shocked. “My-my what?”
He pulled his hand out of your grasp. “This isn’t the time for this.” He said as he turned and walked down the hallway turning into a room a few doors down.
Once you were in the room you told Steve and Nat over the comm that you had begun transferring the information.
When the screen read 94% there was yelling outside of the room you and Bucky were standing in.
He looked over at you and nodded. “Stay here, make sure it’s done.” With that he left the room.
Someone was thrown against the door.
There was a gun shot and a loud yell.
The door crashed in, Bucky and another man rolled into the room.
They both stood, the other man had noticed you. You reached for your gun.
There was a bang. Then a lot of pain, you looked down to see thick red blood coming from your stomach. You fell to the ground.
Bucky walked over to you, glanced down and took out the USB. You could see him saying something over the comm but couldn’t make it out. Your vision was starting to fade in and out.
He started to walk out of the room.
He was leaving? Why is he leaving? You thought urgently. Don’t.
“Don’t leave me behind.” It came out as a whisper but he tensed and you could tell he had heard you. Your eyes locked on his and your vision went black.
If you want to be tagged in any future writing, let me know xx
Word Count: 1,380 Reader Gender: Female i guess idk Warnings: Jealousy, arguement, him arguing with other girls, cursing Love Interest: Peitro Maximoff Note: There is a 200000/10 chance that there will be a second part
I crossed my arms as I glared at him, waiting for him to finish his little show. Anger and irritation bubbled inside of me, and I mentally cursed myself for trusting him enough to leave him alone. I go into the shop for five fucking minutes, and I come out to this shit. I tried pulling him away from the girls that were flirting with him, but it just shrugged me off. The worst part about the whole thing? He was flirting back.
His ass was flirting with other people and he was loving it. I’m not sure if he got the memo, but he’s not single anymore. He’s in a relationship with me, and I have half a mind to kick his ass. I clutched harder at the plastic bag that was in my hand, the contents were requested by none other than the douche himself. I grunted, deciding that he wasn’t going to finish anytime soon. I walked up to him, gripping his shoulder and turning him around.
“We’re leaving.” I said sternly.
“Who’s the slut?” One of the girls asked.
“I’m his girlfriend.” I spat, anger coursing through me.
“Oh really? Then why is he over here?” Another girl asked.
“Slut.” The first one said.
“Pornhub called, honey, they say your resume is too extensive.” I spat.
“I’m not going anywhere, why don’t you find somewhere else to be.” Pietro offered in an annoyed tone.
“Fine,” I shoved the bag in his chest, walking away, “But you’re finding a new place to live.”
It didn’t take him long to appear at my side, but I didn’t acknowledge his existence. I was still beyond pissed at the little act he pulled moments ago. He wouldn’t like it if I did that stuff to him, he’d be pissed. I’d get my ear chewed off, so why does he think it’s okay for him to do it? I still had my arms crossed over my chest, a clear indication that I was angry. Despite my body language, he still tried to talk to me.
He said that he was confused, which just pissed me off even more. What the hell does he mean? He doesn’t get to be confused, he gets to feel like an ass. I sent a glare his way, instantly shutting him up. I looked away from him, rolling my eyes and focusing on getting home. I’ll deal with him there, right now I’m too angry to talk to him. He didn’t even stand up for me, he just let them trash talk me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”Pietro shouted as I closed the door to the apartment.
“Oh, I don’t know, my boyfriend just completely forgot that my ass existed. Forgive me if I’m a little pissed off.” I glared, flipping him off.
“What are you talking about?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“You were flirting with those girls! I heard you the entire time! One of them was even talking dirty to you!” I yelled, “God, Pietro, where do you draw the line?!”
“You’re just being jealous and oversensitive.” Pietro said, walking past me.
“I’m not any of those things! I’m just worried that maybe my boyfriend is cheating on me!” I yelled, feeling the anger mix with betrayal.
“I can’t help it, Y/n! The ladies like me, get over it. I’m not going to stop just because some worthless little girl doesn’t like it.” He spat, glaring at me.
I was silent for a moment, absorbing his words completely. Is that all I was to him? Just some little girl? Not his girlfriend or anything? My brows furrowed, and I took his words to heart. He can’t just get over himself for two seconds to listen to me? I took in a deep breath, realizing that his opinion on this matter wasn’t going to be changing anytime soon. I saw his face soften, and I wiped the tears away from my eyes.
“Worthless?” I questioned.
“Oh, come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” He reasoned.
“Then how did you mean it?” I asked quietly, but he didn’t respond, “That’s what I thought.”
With that, I quickly walked into the bedroom that him and I shared. I got out the suitcase that I took with me on extended missions. I started packing my things, no longer feeling welcome in here. I took a deep breath, sadness now kicking in rather than anger. I sighed, shaking my head as I shoved more clothes into the suitcase. I heard Pietro enter the room, thanks to the small breeze of wind that had picked up out of nowhere.
“What are you doing?” Pietro questioned.
“I am taking my worthless self out of here so you can continue living your wonderful life as a bachelor.” I said, zipping up the suitcase.
“You can’t leave me, Y/n. I love you, don’t do this to me.” He pleaded.
“Love me? You’ve been flirting and getting random chicks numbers the entire time you’ve been dating me, you don’t stand up for me when they insult me, then you call me a worthless little girl, and you have the audacity to say you love me?” I questioned, narrowing my eyes.
“Please, just stay with me.” He pleaded, and I sighed as I looked into his eyes.
He looked like a lost puppy on a rainy day.
“Do you promise to stop flirting with people that aren’t me?” I questioned, slightly hopeful.
“I,” He stuttered, “I don’t.” He trailed off and I shook my head, laughing dryly.
“It’s nice to know that the man I’ve been dating for 3 years doesn’t love me enough to actually act like he’s dating me.” I said, moving past him and to the door.
“You don’t understand.” Pietro said, blocking the door.
“I understood clearlywhen you called me worthless,” Tears formed, “I understood when you flirted with the other girls and acted like you didn’t know me,” My voice broke, “And I understood when you couldn’t even promise you’d stop. I’m not good enough, and I never will be.”
“Just give me another chance, Princessa.” He said, cupping my cheeks.
“Pietro, don’t you get it?” I removed his hands from my face, “I’m exhausted! I’m mentally and physically drained from trying to take the pressure and the hurt of your actions. From arguing with you over the same things. I’ve given you dozens of chances.” I huffed, and he went silent.
I shoved him out of the way, walking out and slamming the door shut. Tears fell from my eyes as I left the complex, my suitcase on my shoulders like it was a backpack. The weight of the entire event settled onto my mind, and I angrily wiped my eyes. I didn’t expect him and I to actually end, but if he thinks I’m not good enough for him then I’ll leave him be. I know when to push, and when to walk away, and today it was the ladder.
I found myself walking to Tony’s place, which was the only place I felt like I could go right now. Questions swam through my mind, drowning out everything else. Had he been cheating on me? When did he decide that I wasn’t good enough? I was just so tired of fighting to keep him, and fighting to make him see that what he was doing was wrong. I was emotionally exhausted, and, in turn, it made me physically exhausted.
“What are you doing here?” Tony asked, not looking at me as I entered the room.
“I,” I took a deep breath, “I was hoping I could stay here for a little while.”
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He turned around, hearing the sadness in my voice.
“It’s nothing.” I shook my head as he came closer.
“Well, I’d love to hear about nothing.” He joked.
“We broke up.” I held back a cry.
“What? Why? Do I need to kill him?” Tony asked, visibly concerned.
“He just makes me exhausted.” You sighed.
“Well, how about you have a seat and I’ll pour us some drinks?” He offered.
“What’s the price?” I eyes him.
“Dirt, details, blackmail.” He stated, turning around and going to get a couple glasses.