Whenever I'm Passive Aggressive And Someone Says "thank You" I Just Answer "You're Welcome" With The

No one was charged for the murder of Breonna Taylor.

One ex-officer (who did NOT shoot Breonna Taylor) was indicted for wanton endangerment* of the life of the persons living next door after shots were blindly fired into their apartment.

(*wanton endangerment is a class D felony, the same as shoplifting or stealing mail…)

Breonna Taylor is NOT listed as a victim in the indictment.

There have been no charges made for the death of Breonna Taylor.

There is not, and will not be justice for Breonna Taylor

#NOJUSTICENOPEACE

#BLACKLIVESMATTER

I don't know how, but everything went to shit.

i know ur not taking requests right now . but if i could just get a CRUMB of meeting ransom at a halloween party... a hc, a drabble, a fic, IDC i am so desperate for this. i need to know what he’d dress up as. please i am begging

Bwahahaha I could feel your shameless hoe desperation, nonnie, and I couldn't just leave you hanging. Consider this your very own Halloween treat 😘

Trick or Treat?

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female!Reader Word Count: 2,943 Summary: You’d rather be anywhere else than a Halloween party thrown by rich Boston elite, but luckily a pretty asshole with a lame Halloween costume keeps you entertained. Warnings: Explicit language. Sexual themes. AU.

You didn’t even want to go to this Halloween party.

It wasn’t your normal scene and you had very little in common with rich Boston socialites. But your best friend had begged you, pulled out the puppy dog eyes and pouting lower lip and everything, and damnit! You couldn’t say no to her when she did that.

And she knew it.

She also promised it wouldn’t be as bad as you were already assuming, because her cousin was throwing the party and her cousin was awesome.

Her cousin was also a rich Boston socialite who lived in an actual facts manor on the edge of the city.

Your mouth literally gaped as you struggled with your costume as you got out of your friend’s car.

That was another thing you weren’t crazy about - wearing a costume. You hadn’t done that in years. But when you told your friend you would just dress in your scrubs and be a nurse for Halloween, like you were every other day of your life, she nearly rioted.

So you’d called in a favor with another friend, one who was a local theater director and gleefully helped you comb through his costume department to pick out something to wear to the party.

And you would be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit in love with the extravagant renaissance dress. It was from a Shakespeare play you couldn’t remember the name of, and it was actually very pretty and fit you surprisingly well.

But as you continued to gape at the many expensive vehicles filling the circular driveway, the type of high end cars you would never even ride in, let alone own in your lifetime, you couldn’t help but feel out of place.

And that feeling only increased as you followed your friend inside the manor and realized your pretty dress was a far cry from the various sexy Halloween costumes donned by the other women at this adult frat party you just stepped into.

You froze in the entryway, eyes so wide you were sure you resembled a cartoon character, as you glanced around.

There were people everywhere. Filling the excessive manor, with their excessive alcohol, and the too loud music making the floor vibrate beneath your feet.

“I just wanna find my cousin and say hi,” your friend chirped, adjusting her sexy witch costume as she grinned at you. “Go find us some drinks, and maybe a couple of sexy vampires or something to take home for the night, and I’ll catch up with you.”

“You’re not seriously going to ditch me as soon as we get here?” you scoffed.

“I’m not ditching,” she promised. “I’ll be right back!”

And then she was gone, lost in a sea of sexy doctors, sexy Red Riding Hoods, and sexy…you squinted - was that a sexy SpongeBob Squarepants costume?

“Oh my god, why did I agree to this?” you muttered to yourself, realizing that a few people nearby were smirking at your more traditional--and conservative--costume as they whispered to each other.

Feeling your face warm, you hitched up your dress and shimmied through the crowd. There were drink filled coolers, kegs, and tables laden with snacks and food throughout the space, so you grabbed a beer, just one, cause your ditching BFF could get her own, and planted yourself in a corner of one of the less crowded rooms.

It looked like some kind of sitting room and, bored from the party and trying your best not to make eye contact with the drunk, sleazy looking spartan a few yards away who was eyeing you up like a prime rib, you hedged around the perimeter of the room. You observed the various family photos and awards as you idly sipped your beer.

You were trailing your fingers along a familiar book on the built-in bookshelves when a voice suddenly spoke to your left.

“So what’s your deal? You an exiled princess? Or a lonely queen? I could probably help with that second one.”

You started, straightening and glancing over to find a ridiculously attractive man staring at your chest.

He was tall and lean, his shoulders broad and encased in an expensive looking maroon sweater. His dark gray slacks were perfectly tailored, hinting at muscled thighs and long legs. His dark blonde hair was neatly swept away from his face, his pale skin a beautiful practice in sharp lines and perfect angles.

He was, quite simply, the most handsome man you had ever seen in real life, and you fidgeted to be in his company.

His blue eyes finally lifted from your cleavage as he took a pull from his beer, and you remembered his question about your costume.

Your gaze narrowed. “I’m not exiled or lonely, I’m just--”

“A stuck up prude?” he guessed, eyes sparkling as your mouth fell open.

“Well who are you supposed to be?” you cried, waving a hand at his normal attire. He stuck out like more of a sore thumb than you did.

A smirk slowly curled his lips and he stepped closer, invading your personal space as he met your gaze. With a perfectly straight face, he replied, “I’m the guy who’s gonna be balls deep in that uptight pussy by the end of the night.”

You spluttered wordlessly, torn between the embarrassment that warmed your face and suppressing your giggles, because this guy was ridiculous...even as a tiny part of you rippled with excitement at his lewd declaration.

Because, honestly? You’d never had a man that pretty show you a lick of interest.

His snicker of amusement that he momentarily struck you speechless made your gaze narrow further. You rolled your eyes as you shoved him out of your space, very purposefully ignoring just how warm and firm his chest felt beneath your touch.

“In your dreams, asshole,” you snorted before hurrying past him in search of your friend.

Your search stretched on, and after what you guessed was fifteen minutes or so of your friend being MIA, as well as dodging a number of lecherous comeons, you needed air.

Even if that air was abnormally chilly for an evening in late October. You decided you’d much rather risk frostbite than spend one more minute inside that fancy manor with all those smug, outrageous partygoers.

Which is why you hedged away from a small group of people smoking a joint just outside of the manor and wandered around the side of the large home. Relief eased the tension from your shoulders as you found the dark, chilly grounds around you empty of anyone else.

With a quiet sigh, you leaned against the cold, gray stone of the manor, hugging yourself as you shivered in the evening chill. The grounds seemed to stretch on forever, in what you assumed were rolling hills of perfectly manicured grass, but you couldn’t really tell in the dark. There was a lake in the distance, and for a split second, you wondered what it would be like to be this rich.

It’s not like you were struggling financially. You lived comfortably, and you appreciated everything you had. You actually really loved your job as a nurse and enjoyed working hard and helping others on the daily.

But still...what would it be like to drive home to this at the end of each day?

It was a concept you couldn’t even compute, and didn’t spend a lot of time trying to.

Another round of shivers shook your frame and you crossed your arms tighter over your chest.

“You look cold, sweetheart.”

Your head snapped up, spying the pretty asshole from earlier rounding the side of the manor and sauntering toward you. He was wearing a long, tan coat, a colorful scarf draped around his neck, and your jealousy at how warm he looked was instant.

He kept coming closer, until he was standing right in front of you, no more than a foot away. His gaze dropped to your chest once more, which was now put on further display with your arms tightly hugging yourself to fend off the cold.

It was your turn to snicker, at his complete lack of shame. “I finally figured out your costume,” you said. “You’re a guy who can’t take a hint.”

He laughed. “You can call me ‘Ransom,’ princess.”

You blinked. “Is that actually your name?”

His eyes narrowed as he took an exaggerated step closer, his front brushing against you and making you straighten. You pressed yourself against the stone behind you even more, trying to keep some distance between the two of you.

It was strange, the gentle malice shining in his gaze as he planted his palm on the wall beside your head. It was so different from the smug amusement you’d witnessed in him thus far.

Ransom leaned in close enough that his body heat was chasing the chill from your body, and you shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, huh?” His hand fell to the curve of your hip, gently squeezing and you froze. “Wonder if you’ve got the talent to back it up. Feel free to drop to your knees and show me. For science.”

“Oh my god!” You half laughed, half gasped, trying to shove him away. “You are so disgusting!” Your eyes narrowed when you realized how ineffective it was - trying to push him away.

In fact, he only pressed closer, until your hands were pinned against his stomach and he was smirking down at you.

You huffed your defeat and instead glared up at him for all you were worth.

“Sticks and stones,” he faux pouted, chuckling as you gave him a waspish gaze.

You opened your mouth to tell him where he could shove his sticks and stones, but Ransom swooped in and kissed you quiet.

You were so stunned you went still, your breath catching at the warm play of his lips against yours. And then he was smiling against your lips and forcing his tongue into your mouth, until it was teasing your own and…

Well, sadly this pretty asshole was a very good kisser.

It was like all of your objections and offense literally evaporated as he worked your mouth with the filthiest, most thorough kiss you’d ever experienced in your life.

You moaned, prying your hands from between your bodies so you could touch him. One hand slid around the nape of his neck, the other groping his chest, exploring the muscles beneath.

Ransom hissed quietly as your cold fingers found their way beneath his scarf and collar and onto his bare skin. “Jesus, you’re fucking freezing.” He remained close, forehead pressed against yours, noses knocking.

You found your body curling even closer to him, craving relief from the cold, until you were flush to his chest, his coat now keeping you warm too.

“That’s my actual costume,” you murmured. “A frigid bitch.”

Ransom laughed, the amusement back in his eyes as they danced at you. “You’re funny, princess.”

You stared up at him, your hands tracing the smooth, luxurious fabric of his scarf. “Y/N,” you finally offered.

Ransom repeated your name softly, his lips curling into a hint of a smirk, but still more of a smile. “I’d be happy to warm you up. In fact, my house is fairly close and I have a very impressive fireplace.”

“Is ‘fireplace’ some kind of weird sexual innuendo or…”

“Why don’t you come home with me and find out?”

“It’s lame of you to prey on my hypothermia,” you told him.

“I’m pretty shameless when it comes to getting what I want,” Ransom returned. His fingers pressed into the curve of your hip, scorching you through the thick fabric of your costume. “Or who.”

At that, you grinned. “I have a feeling you’re used to getting what, or who, you want, Ransom.”

“You’re not wrong,” he smirked.

For some reason, you found his arrogance amusing, and oddly charming. Maybe you really did have hypothermia and it was affecting your judgment...or maybe that steamy kiss had thoroughly short circuited your brain.

And, if you were being honest with yourself, it was kind of fun, this sexy banter with a pretty asshole. More fun than hiding in the corner of a too loud party full of strangers.

“Sorry to say you’re gonna need to thaw me out a little more before I agree to go home with you,” you told him, gently pushing at his chest.

Ransom’s brows furrowed as he stared down at you, lips pursed with disappointment. “Meaning?”

“Meaning baby steps, Casanova,” you smiled mischievously, unable to help yourself as you gripped the lapels of his coat and tugged him close. “It’s gonna take more than a lame Halloween costume, lots of arrogance, and a decent kiss to get in my pants.”

“Decent?” Ransom scoffed, glowering as you pushed him away and stepped around him.

You immediately missed his body heat as the cool night air engulfed you.

“You always that enthusiastic for merely decent kisses?” Ransom huffed.

You hugged yourself tightly, glancing over at him with a wry smile as you blatantly ignored his question. “Does your car have heat?”

He blinked, thrown off by the change in subject. “...yes?”

“How about we sit in there and warm up, because I’d literally rather throw myself in the half frozen lake than return to that party.”

Ransom couldn’t suppress a smile. He shook his head, sighing as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets. He followed as you moved toward the front of the manor, then the driveway.

He pointed out his beamer, hand touching the small of your back as he guided you toward it. Then he was standing too close and pinning you against the passenger door as he dug around in his pocket for his keys.

“That kiss was way more than just decent,” he muttered, tugging his keys free. “You were practically putty in my hands. And those little gasps and moans, just from a kiss…”

Your face warmed as you blinked up at him, because he wasn’t wrong. It had been entirely too long since you’d had a kiss like that, let alone actually gotten laid. And just the thought of breaking your dry spell with this silver tongued Adonis was enough to make you shiver in delight.

Getting a whiff of his musky cologne as he shifted against you, you felt his hand sneak to your hip again. His proximity shielded you from the cold, and you couldn’t help but lean into him, just a little.

“Just imagine the noises I make when someone’s balls deep in this uptight pussy,” you teased on a quiet murmur.

Ransom’s breath caught, his grip on your hip squeezing hard as his gaze seemed to go dark with desire before your eyes. “Didn’t take you for such a tease, sweetheart.”

“What’s wrong, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

He smirked at your playful jibe, wedging his knee between your legs as he unlocked the passenger door. Even through the thick layers of your dress, you felt a dull ache spark to life in your core as Ransom’s thigh pressed against you with purpose.

“Mmm, careful, princess, you’re playing with fire.” His head dipped closer, lips hovering so close to yours you swore you could taste him. “You keep mouthing off like that, do all that teasing with no follow through, and you may just get burned right up.”

“Don’t threaten this frigid bitch with a good time,” you quipped. Your heart skipped a beat as Ransom smiled, white teeth flashing as those perfectly plump and tempting lips of his curled.

“We’re gonna have a lot of fun,” he hummed, his thigh pressing against your core hard enough to make you gasp. You didn’t resist as his hands cupped your hips, rocking you against him as his mouth teased along yours.

Your eyes fluttered as he kissed you, much slower this time. He took his time tasting you, gently pulling you apart with his lips and tongue, swallowing your needy little mewl as you wound your arms around his neck and yanked him close.

When Ransom finally pulled away, you were both panting. You pressed a hand to your chest, like it would quell the rapid pace of your heart, your underwear thoroughly ruined and sticking to you uncomfortably as Ransom’s leg moved away as he straightened.

“Better than decent?” he taunted, smile smug as you stared up at him, a little dazed.

You blinked, and then snorted in laughter as you processed his words. “I’ll give you and your ego a moment,” you giggled, patting Ransom’s chest before tugging open the passenger door and carefully folding yourself, and your dress, inside.

Ransom stood there, gazing down at you before ducking low, so his eyes could meet yours. “The thing about my ego, sweetheart? It’s completely justified.”

His grin was wicked as you stared at him.

“You’ll find out soon enough, once I completely and thoroughly ruin you.” His thumb skimmed your kiss swollen bottom lip, his eyes still glued to yours. “And then you’ll fucking thank me for it. As you should.”

You pressed your thighs together, warmth rushing through you and your earlier chill forgotten entirely as Ransom fucking winked at you before closing the door. And as he sauntered around to the driver’s side of the car, you couldn’t help but stare, fanning yourself just a little as you realized he may have just thawed your frigid bitch exterior a tiny bit more.

And you were totally okay with that.

Lol yer girl can’t write a short drabble to save her fucking life. 🤷🏻‍♀️

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Do not let me start talking about this movie.

I saw it (on a non profitable way to Disney) and oh boy! To not mention the political reasons as to why the movie is a desgrace the actual plot was more disappointing than what I was already expecting.

Mushu wasn't there, he was replaced by a phoenix (that is a western mythical animal not asian) and it was barely even there. The cricket wasn't the cricket but a human character. Shang was replaced by a soldier to which she hadn't any type of chemistry with, he was just there because. Her grandmother wasn't even mentioned once and instead she had a sister to which her single personality trait was "afraid of spiders". And omg the way they ruined the scene when Mulan would fail the "test" to become a wife was.... awful and just downright stupid. They didn't wanted to put "magical" elements on the movie but than Mulan as a very strong "chi" that gives her powers and she goes against a witch that isn't evil just misunderstood and okay the witch is not the worst part but God they didn't do anything right.

And seriously why on earth would they have special effects as shitty as the ones that were portrait there? I've seen better use of slow motion on The Transporter (I think on 2nd movie?) and that is so much older than the live action.

They picked on my favourite movie and completely ruined it. The story wasn't the same if they wanted to do a different story of Mulan they could have made a movie called "The Legend of Hua Mulan" or something and to an actual live action instead of that stupid ass movie

Don’t get me started on Disney screwing up the live action Mulan 😭💅

Lord be, hell yes.  And not just Mulan but all the live action movies.  Why couldn’t Disney just leave well enough alone?!?  The animated versions were classics, a piece of people’s childhood.  Why fuck with someone’s childhood?!  Oh that’s right, money.  Bastards.

(To be fair, I have not seen live action Mulan, I would rather not be disappointed.)

Thank you Nonny.

I'm on this and I'm not sure if I like it

Supernatural 05.22 → Swan Song

The devil doesn’t know or care what kind of car the boys drive.

The feelings were well expressed and this is an impossible situation to imagine, nonetheless we can see everything through her emotions and how the lack of closure can be worse than knowing the truth.

Your writing was amazing 💜

Promise Not to Promise Anymore

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of cheating, angst

Word count: 2448

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve been struggling with for a while, I’m so glad I’ve finally been able to get the words to sort themselves out. Special thank you to @krirebr for helping me so much with the process. Without you literally nothing would ever be posted here 😂. (Yes I am aware that I barely post…I’m working on it!) Any feedback that you could leave would be really appreciated. ❤️

The day had been uneventful, boring, normal. But something about the day had your skin crawling. You weren’t sure what had set you off, and yet here you were pacing. Something you only did when you were anxious.

Your phone chirped with another notification, probably one of your socials. Your anxiety had you reaching for it immediately. Seeing the name of your ex pop up on the screen had your stomach dropping immediately. Neither of you had reached out in months. The man who had blustered out of your life as fast as he had blustered in was texting you.

You threw the phone onto the couch without reading the notification. Sure you could find out immediately what he wanted if you actually read the text, instead you screamed into the throw pillow. Your mind began to run with all of the possibilities of why this man would choose now to text you. Did he want money? Was he dying? Was he texting just to let you know how little you meant to him?

The last one, it was definitely the last one.

You stood from the couch and glared at the small black rectangle that had ruined your otherwise boring day. Your phone chirped again, and you physically recoiled from the sound. Deciding a drink would help with whatever it was your ex wanted you dazedly walked to the kitchen. When you opened the fridge, your gaze immediately found the bottle of wine you had bought on a whim on the weekend. Something the lady at the grocery store had recommended since you looked so lost in the wine section. Grabbing the bottle and bypassing a glass was the best way to handle this conversation you decided.

You sat on the couch, taking a long pull from the neck of the bottle before reaching for your phone. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you unlocked the phone screen and tapped on the messages icon. There was his name in big bold letters: Andy. You hesitated as your finger hovered over the message, you could see his second message clearly Are you too busy to talk now? Maybe you could just not read it. Or read them and never respond. Or read them and respond later.

You hated every single one of those options, because you knew as soon as you opened these messages you’d be responding immediately. You took another long pull from your bottle, and placed the phone back down beside you. You needed your mind to stop. The thinking, the over-thinking, it was too much. You flipped on the TV to distract yourself and curled up like a cat. Your phone chirped again from under a throw pillow, and you pointedly ignored it.

You weren’t ready to deal with Andy. You had thought when he ended things that you would never hear from him again. Devastated. That was the only word you could use to describe how you felt after he left. You still didn’t even understand why he had ended things, only that he clearly hadn’t felt as strongly as you did about him.

There was another chirp that had you sighing and grabbing for your phone. You had to deal with it, or he wouldn’t stop. That was Andy. You pulled up the messages anticipating at least a double text, but completely unprepared for all the messages he had sent you,

I know this is out of the blue, but I need to speak to you.

Are you too busy to talk now?

Please Honey, I need to talk to you.

It’s important.

Honey…

Of course, the man could double text you, but would refuse to supply what he actually wanted to speak to you about. You typed out several potential responses before deciding on something polite but to the point.

Andy, I can talk. What’s going on?

You didn’t have to wait long for Andy’s equally to the point response.

Can I call you?

You stared at the message for a moment. You knew you couldn’t hear his voice, it would take you right back to where you were. All those months ago when he broke your heart. All the hurt, and the anger, it would be right there.

As you debated what to say, your phone began to ring. The man had absolutely no patience. You stared at his name, and without thinking answered the phone.

“Hello…” You sat and waited for him to say his peace, how bad could it be.

”Honey, I’m sorry.” You shuddered as Andy’s voice came through the phone. You forgot how his deep timbre had always made you feel comforted, and safe, and warm. “How are you doing? I know I shouldn’t be…I don’t…Are you okay?”

You hesitated before you answered. Months ago you would’ve known exactly what to say to Andy to make him feel better. Now it felt like you were talking to a stranger. “I’m fine Andy. Why are you hammer messaging me?”

Andy chuckled lightly, and you smiled at the lilting notes. “You haven’t changed.” Your eye twitched at that comment. “I just, I needed to hear your voice, Honey.”

”So you messaged me repeatedly?” You could hear the annoyance in your tone, which meant that Andy could hear it ten times louder.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this…” Andy trailed off and sighed. You huffed and pulled the phone away from your ear for a moment so you could murmur your annoyance to yourself.

”Just say it Andy, why did you reach out? Why are we on the phone?” You pulled at the threads on the throw pillow under your arm.

“I miss you.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. You couldn’t have heard him right. He missed you? No, no he was dying, or broke, or literally anything else.

“You-what?” You spluttered out the only thought that came to your mind.

Andy chuckled nervously, “I miss you. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way your forehead pinches when you’re focused. I miss the way you would take care of me. The moment I ended things? I knew I had made a mistake, and so I told myself that it was kinder to you, to just move on.”

You sat there in silence, shocked at his sudden declarations. “Why, why did you end things? What happened? Andy, I loved you so much, and then out of nowhere you just up and ended things.”

You heard Andy sigh on the other end of the phone. You could picture him scrubbing his hand down his face and scratching at the beard hairs on his chin. His nervous habit. “I got scared, I think.” He chuckled again, “I know it’s not a good excuse…”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s a terrible excuse Andy. What scared you? That I loved you? That I wanted to be a part of your life? Please tell me, what exactly scared you so badly that you ended the best relationship I’ve ever had?”

You slapped a hand over your mouth. You hadn’t meant to let all of that out.

There was a long drawn out silence. “I think it was how strongly I felt about you. I was…scared of what that meant. Before I met you I thought I knew what love was. I was sure I had felt it. But once that feeling truly hit me? I couldn’t actually function.” Andy sighed again, “This isn’t coming out right.”

You took another long pull off of your bottle of wine. You let Andy’s words roll over in your mind. Could he actually be telling the truth? His love for you was so strong that he got scared. It just didn’t seem right, there was something else, there had to be.

“So what you’re saying is, our love was too much for you?” Your tone rang with annoyance and a little bit of desperation. You remembered any time you had tried to get something out of Andy that he didn’t want to tell you, how carefully you’d have to tread, otherwise he would shut down. As much as you wanted to tell him off, end the call and block his number forever. There was still a part of you that needed to know the real reason, so before Andy could respond you continued. “Andy, as much as I love this game of cat and mouse we’re playing, where it’s like pulling teeth to get information out of you,” You heard him softly chuckle on the other end of the line, “I just need the truth, maybe it will hurt me, maybe it won’t but I need it.”

There was a long silence on the line. Although it made you nervous and want to say something to fill it, you sat and sipped on your slowly warming wine while you waited for his response. Your bluntness would have one of two effects: either he would fold and tell you what you wanted, no needed to know, or he would shut down and it would be months, if ever, before you heard from him again.

His heavy sigh preceded his response, “You’re right, and wrong.” He paused as if he was gathering his thoughts. “It is true that the feeling of love between us scared me, but it’s also that it scared me so much that…”

”That what?” You knew what he was going to say, felt it deep within your soul. Your heart was about to be broken by Andy Barber once again, and what was worse, you had practically asked him to do it this time.

”I slept with someone else. It only happened once, but it was before I ended things.”

“I see.” It was all you could get out. You could feel the twisting in your chest again, the anger burning behind your eyes, the tears welling and choking you with their strength.

”I’m so sorry Honey. As soon as it was over I knew I had fucked up. But I also knew if that I couldn’t be with you still, it wasn’t fair to you.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, and it only made the anger burn stronger. Like his words had lit a match and poured kerosene over top.

“So you called me now, to…what? Make yourself feel better?” Your breathing was hard, almost panting in your anger.

”I don’t know why I’m calling. I just know that I’ve regretted that decision ever since. I miss what you brought to my life: the pure joy, the love I could feel down to my core.” Andy’s voice was strained. It was only then that you realized he was crying.

”Are you drunk Andy?” It was the only time you had ever seen him cry, when he had one too many with the boys after work.

”No, I swear. I promise Honey, I haven’t had a drink tonight.”

You took another sip of wine. Contemplating the truth in Andy’s words, the burn of his betrayal. This was just too much.

“Well I’m glad you’ve finally told me the truth Andy. Even if it is months later.” You hugged your throw pillow to your chest as you prepared yourself to say the words that you knew would hurt him as much as they would hurt you. “I can’t forgive you, for any of it. Please, just leave me alone.”

Before you could second guess your decision, you hung up the phone. You stared blankly at the TV screen, not even remembering what you had put on in the first place. What shook you from your reverie was a dull thud from your door. Like someone had just planted their forehead against it.

You stood and quickly crossed the room to check what the noise was. It was only once your hand was on the handle you knew: Andy. You unlocked the door, and twisted the handle slowly, knowing the man who had destroyed you not once, but twice was standing on the other side.

When your eyes connected with his, you could feel all of the love, joy and affection come flooding back. It took everything within you to not jump into his arms and sob until you had nothing left. Instead you gripped the doorframe like it was the only thing holding you up.

”Honey…” Andy’s voice was just above a whisper, so quiet that you weren’t even sure you heard it. His hands reached out and thumbed at the tears quietly streaming down your face. “Oh Honey, I’m so sorry.”

With that he pulled you against his chest. You could smell the high end cologne he wore to work, and the underlying scent of pure Andy. The warmth of his chest and his arms wrapping around your back had you losing all control. You sobbed with abandon into his neck, no words leaving your lips. Andy scooped you up and walked you both into your apartment. Using his foot to shut the door behind him.

He sat down on your couch, with you tucked against his chest and began murmuring quietly to you. You couldn’t make out most of it, but did catch the odd word. “Shh Honey.” “I know, I’m so sorry.” “Just let it out, okay?”

When you finally felt like you could cry no more, you pulled your face from Andy’s neck. You could feel how swollen your eyes were, in fact your whole face felt puffy. “I still don’t forgive you.”

Andy let out a full belly laugh at your meekly spoken words. To which you glared at him and crossed your arms across your chest.

”Okay, okay.” He wheezed in a breath, “I’m sorry Honey. Please just give me a chance to make it up to you. Even if that means I don’t get to feel your love again, let me just try to make this right.”

You reached out and stroked his cheek. Feeling his soft skin contrast with the roughness of his beard. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, see the grayness of his skin. “I need time Andy.”

He sighed, and let his eyes flutter shut. “Of course Honey, whatever you need.”

You reluctantly stood from his embrace, “Please leave Andy, I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

He nodded solemnly. Andy stood, he moved to hug you, but you took a few steps out of his reach. He nodded again before heading for the door.

”Honey?” His back was still to you.

”Yeah?”

”I still love you, more than anything. And I promise to do everything I can to show you that.”

”Andy, maybe we should both promise not to promise anymore.”

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Happy: “Kid–,”

Peter, looking absolutely betrayed: “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Happy: “I didn’t mean to lie to you, I swear. I thought you knew.”

Peter, dramatic as hell: “Five years.”

Happy: “Peter–,”

Peter: “I spent five years believing that your god-given name was Happy Hogan.”

Happy: “—I’ll buy you ice cream or something, anything, just please don’t cry—,”

Peter, already tearing up: “I don’t even know who you are anymore, Harold.”