A/N: This will be two parts with a possible epilogue. Wanted to thank @thebeasthasentered for reading my first draft and giving me some really helpful feedback.
Summary:Your best friend in the whole galaxy is coming to visit to help out with Thanos. When he arrives, Steve finds himself jealous of the close relationship Peter and you have. Will this stop the man from telling you how he feels? Will old feelings be brought up once Peter arrives? Does first love truly fade? Part Two
It only took Jack’s brain about three tenths of a second longer than his mouth to wake up and by that time his mouth had already gone ahead and started talking without the brain which meant that three tenths of a second later Jack quite viscerally realized that he had made a Mistake.
Bitty had been looking at a catalog in bed next to Jack on a very rare lazy Sunday morning when Jack had woken up, turned over, and opened up his big, dumb mouth. Specifically, Bitty had been looking at a women’s catalog, not terribly unusual as Bitty did in fact have a mother and cousins and female friends whom he did buy presents for throughout the year.
This particular morning, Bitty was looking for a particularly kickass and sexy yet tasteful pair of heels or possibly boots for Lardo to wear to a gallery opening for a friend whom she knows through business that she does not in fact privately like but must publicly support and profess a friend. Footwear for the opening was the last piece that needed to be nailed down, the two having already put together the perfect outfit that says “I hate you and everything you stand for and I will do so while looking fabulous and playing the perfect friend so you’d better get your sucked lemon face ready because you’ll be wearing it all night to go with your own far less fabulous outfit” earlier in the week.
It just so happens however that the footwear in this catalog starts where the lingerie ends. Which is what Jack saw. Which is when he opened his big, dumb mouth. Which is when his relationship flashed before his eyes and his world ended. Because he didn’t just open his big, dumb mouth, he opened it and sleepily said, “Wow, you would look incredibly sexy in that, you should absolutely buy the rose one.”
Bitty processed the words and froze. “Excuse me?”
What was Jack supposed to say? He had just, out of nowhere, suggested his very male boyfriend purchase the gorgeous, expensive, satin bustier and panty set with flowerettes lining the neckline that sat on the glossy page in front of them. And he’d specified the preferred color no less. Rose, if you please. Jesus this was a disaster.
There was literally no way for this conversation to go that he wouldn’t joyfully give up to let enraged hippos chew on his entrails. Jack could actually feel the blood rushing from his face.
“Uuuuuhh…..” was his highly intelligent response so far.
“Darlin’, what exactly are you lookin’ at on this page?”
“I don't…” he sighs “…there’s no way for me to avoid having this conversation is there.”
“No, not really.”
Jack’s shoulders wilted. “Alright.” Jack squares his shoulders up with the blue line, blows out a controlled breath, and prepares to take his shot. “I was looking at that bustier and panty set. The one with the good steel boning and the rosette border.” Jack not only gestures toward the catalog but taps the page to indicate his choice. “And that deep dusky rose color would look good with your skin, would add a glow and a warmth. Like strawberries and cream.” Jack mentions his reasoning on the topic of color ruefully at best.
Wheels have been slowly turning in Bitty’s head.
“So you’d like to see me in this one.” It wasn’t a question though it did sound mighty doubtful with a dash of incredulity that this wasn’t some kind of prank.
Jack resolutely kept his eyes on the wall across from the foot of their bed.
Bitty studies Jack’s face, nods once to himself as if having come to a conclusion, and relaxes back into the pillows.
“I wonder if they have any heels that would match…”
we spin flags and various weapons like rifle and saber and often spin while simultaneously having to dance and retain ballet skills alongside performance skills and remembering our drill spots!! and technically we are a part of the band unit, but we don't play music or anything like that. often times we just call ourselves band members just to save time with teachers and whatnot.
Ugh. I’m a grown ass woman and why do I still let disparaging comments about my looks get to me? I mean, intellectually I *know* that more often than not, a snarky comment just reflects the commenter’s own insecurities but still… :/
When you open your mouth and a Scottish accent comes out, people are surprised. You speak English really well, they say, and you nod politely as if your first words hadn’t been some form of ‘mum’ like 99% of the Hogwarts population. It gets better after a while—eleven year olds don’t really care where you’re from, as long as you’re nice and share your Honeydukes packages—so when the Beauxbatons delegation arrives your fifth year and that strange new potato dish appears on the table, you and Marietta Edgecombe, who’s also from Scotland, laugh and tell everyone that stovies are nothing new, really.
Still, that night when Roger Davies coaxes you to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower with him, he calls you exotic. You call him silly. Your grandparents are Chinese, but you have lived in Scotland all your life. Yet you follow him to the Astronomy Tower anyway, and let his ice blue eyes slide over your body because, for once, having porcelain skin and jet black hair makes you beautiful instead of just abnormal. For a while, at least, you are exotic.
Those Beauxbaton girls are exotic too, though, especially the girl with flowing blonde hair Davies fawns over all the way to the Yule Ball. You take that news unexpectedly well. Deep inside, you always knew you couldn’t compete with a Beauxbaton girl. They are French, and that’s the kind of exotic Hogwarts boys really want.
Except the Hufflepuff one, the one with grey eyes you had a crush on back in third year. Cedric Diggory, from Ottery St. Catchpole. He finds you by the lake, takes you aside under a beech tree as your friends giggle in the background, and shyly asks if you will go the Yule Ball with him. He shouldn’t be this shy. He needn’t be shy at all, because ‘yes’ tumbles out of your mouth with no reservation. He is so very handsome.
And good. And sweet. So deliciously, blithely sweet. He kisses you unexpectedly your first date at Madame Puddifoot’s Teashop, and then again in the alleyway behind Zonko’s. When you come up for breath and take a peak at this boy who makes your nerves tingle, his eyes remain closed as his lips reach for another taste.
Being a natural born city kid, it would’ve been thought that Holden would have grown used to the busy streets and constant people invading your space. Now stuck in an unfamiliar place with little to no idea of where he was other than the fact that he was in the Downtown area, Holden pulled the half smoked cigarette from his mouth to drop to the nearby drain, crushing the flame into the concrete before it would be dropped away. Looking like a lost guy who stuck out like a sore thumb in the streets, Holden took a quick glance around, breathing out a sigh before his thicker New Yorker accent coated his words.
— “Hey, uh, excuse me?” The guy spoke, only catching a glimpse of the color of hair of whom he was speaking to. “Mind directing a poor soul to the cafe? Or closest place around here that offers a refresher, and stat.“
You, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return… I grant you a place to belong. My name is Yato. Bearing a posthumous name, you shall remain here. With this name, I make thee my servant. With this name and its alternate, I use my life to make thee a Regalia! Thou art Yuki! As Regalia, Setsu! Come Sekki!