#I am very happy with how much of her grooming is restraint free

[tea-time-terrier]

Paw-brush-treat-reward-repeat.

[bluerene]

RobStar Week #1 - Wayne Manor

Hello friends. Please allow me to quickly and suddenly resurrect my online presence with a week of robstar goodness, followed by an onslaught of miscellaneous content + a loooot of fics that should’ve been published ages ago. The bitch is back! She is also about to board a plane and has not proofread this one bit, so please excuse the ugly errors.

As always, feedback is loved. 

Enjoy!

Wayne Manor (ft. implied BatCat justice bc it’s what we deserved)

It had been twenty-two years in the making, but finally, the day had come. 

Dick tugged at the collar of his suit and huffed, tilting his wrist upwards to check his watch. Two hours till takeoff.

That was how he had been thinking of it anyway. The whole event felt more like a formality than anything else; marriage was just the legal definition of what they already had. Often enough, he forgot they weren’t husband and wife. 

He glanced around the room and smiled; Alfred had really outdone himself this time. Dick brushed his fingers along the row of lilies that lined the entryway, admiring the splash of pink roses that stood out amid the white flora. Their saccharine smell lingered in the air as he walked on through the room, studying the impressive set-up.

They had chosen to host their wedding at Wayne Manor, which was gorgeous and private and comfortable. With graceful vaults and arches that curved into a smooth dome and made the polished marble floors gleam in the glittering sunlight, the ballroom was easily the most elegant waste of space Dick had known in his house. And, it was finally being put to use the way it deserved. 

Alfred had thrown himself into preparations the moment he’d heard. Even in his old age, he was a force to be reckoned with- he had florists ready, caterers selected, a decorating committee arranged, and invitations delivered within days. Thirty-six hours before the ceremony, he had marched in with an army of specialists and had set to work on the hall. 

It had been divided up in such a way that the service, reception, and dinner would all be hosted within a few feet of each other. From the thick maple doors of the entryway, she would walk in, fiercely beautiful as ever. She would make her way past the rows of chairs towards a trellis made of fine gold, twisted with flowers and leaves. Posts would be in line with its sides, thin gossamer curtains tied with ribbons from wall to wall, effectively cutting off access to the space behind. After they kissed, the entire party would pass through the curtains and into the garden, where they could immediately enjoy the reception, while the bride and groom snuck off to change into clothes better suited to dinner and dancing. At the end of the night, they would bid their goodbyes and steal away into the night as they had for the past twenty-two years. 

Dick had envisioned this moment for half of his life in different ways. The bride used to change, often switching between the various women in his life at the time- but as time went on, the vision became clearer and more obvious. It could only be her. She’d always been there, a shadow flitting in and out of the window, playing with fire fearlessly. 

Something probed his arm gently, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Does it remind you of ours?”

He smiled and drew her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her palm.

“In the best ways. Al really pulled this one together brilliantly.”

His wife sighed, intertwining their fingers.

“It is worth it. Their happy ending is long overdue.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, “it’s about time. How’s the bride looking?”

“Like a million of the dollar bills,” Kori replied cheekily, “truly, you may never have eyes for me again.”

He laughed and cupped her cheek, taking in her appearance. His eyes lingered on her full lips, the glimmer of happiness in her electric eyes, the slight pink flush that ran from her cheeks to her collarbone. Her hair had been pinned up into an intricate bun, stray curls framing her face. She was a vision in the soft gold gown Selina had asked her to wear as one of the bridesmaids. 

“I don’t think I could ever have eyes for anyone other than you, beautiful.” 

Kori beamed and slid her free hand to his chest, gripping the lapel of his suit jacket to pull him into a sweet kiss. Her mouth moving achingly slow against his while he fought to remind himself they were in an unconcealed, public space. 

She pulled away and giggled, smoothing out the fabric she had crumpled.

“Your restraint is impressive, my love.”

“It had better be,” a deep voice resounded from behind them, “as I recall, you two are already married, so I doubt there’s much more you can do at a wedding that you haven’t done before.”

“You’d be surprised, Dad,” Dick said cheerfully, “but I’m not looking to upstage your night, so let’s leave it at that.”

“Hello k’norfka Bruce,” Kori said eagerly, hurrying to press a kiss to her father-in-law’s cheek, “you look very handsome! How are you feeling?”

Bruce patted her shoulder affectionately, a rare smile lighting up his face, “like I should have done years ago. You look lovely, by the way.”

“I was just telling Richard to reserve judgment until after the bride has arrived. Selina is truly...indescribably wonderful.”

Dick didn’t miss the dreamy look that crossed his father’s face.  

“And the flower girl? As radiant as her mother?”

He didn’t miss the way his wife blushed at those words either.

“Provided she does not ruin her dress again, Mar’i will look perfect,” she replied with a sigh, glancing at the doors, “in fact, I believe it is time for me to check in on her. Please excuse me, k’norfka Bruce. Richard, I will see you before the ceremony.”

Bruce shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her leave.

“How are you feeling, Dick?”

 “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? It’s your wedding, after all.”

“It’s about time, don’t you think,” Bruce replied with a grin, “I made her wait twenty-two years.”

“I’m still amazed by that, y’know. Star and I tied the knot...what, six years after we started dating. I can’t believe it took you guys this long.”

“Well we’re here now, aren’t we?”

“Only because Selina was boss enough to propose.”

“I would’ve proposed when the time came!” Bruce said indignantly. 

Dick snorted, “Yeah, in 2068, when you’re too close to death to fear commitment.” He glanced around the room, gaze falling on a nearby satin pillow, “Is the ring-bearer going to show up today?”

“He’ll pitch a fit, but yes. The kid’s a fan of Selina. Plus, he misses you.”

“The devil? Inconceivable,” Dick muttered. 

Bruce cuffed him on the back of the head, “He’s your brother.”

“So is Tim, but you don’t see him slicing me up in ‘training sessions’. Speaking of, where is he? Why am I the only one here?”

“Jason plans on popping in during the reception. Tim’s bringing Stephanie so he’s at her house. Alfred is with Damian.”

“That’s not what I mean. Why am I the only one here, now?”

Bruce shifted uncomfortably, and rubbed the back of his neck, ”You’re the first, you know. I’ve always held the others up to you, even when I shouldn’t have. You were a brat, but you were also my first son. I wanted you to be here for that.”

“Dad.”

“No jokes, I’m serious.”

“I am too.”

“Well...good.” 

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence, eyes fixed on the rows of chairs and the trellis directly ahead. 

“So…”

“Hit the bar? A couple of pre-wedding drinks?” 

“Is that what Garfield and Victor did with you?”

Dick laughed as he lead his father out of the hall, “Are you kidding? They wouldn’t let me near the mini-bar. Said they would beat my ass if I was tipsy at my own wedding.”

“Clearly you’re not concerned about me.”

“Nah. First, Silena is more than capable of sobering you up with a single glance. Second, you’re Batman.”

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m pretty sure Kori would do the same if you’d stumbled down the aisle. That woman can pack a punch.”

“Do I detect a hint of fatherly pride there, Dad? Are you finally coming around to your daughter-in-law?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, nudging Dick with his elbow.

“Knock it off. You know I respect her and care about her. She’s a fine young woman. I couldn’t have chosen better for you if I’d tried.”

Dick softened, “I was kidding, but...thanks. It means a lot to hear you say that. She loves and admires you so much. And she tells Mar’i stories about you all the time. She won’t let me ruin your image even a little.”

“She gave you the home you needed, didn’t she?” Bruce said quietly, “Your relationship with me and this house and everything you had turned away from was different after she came into your life.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, clapping his hand on his father’s shoulder, “my home is wherever she goes. And she always seems to know what I need when I need it. That’s why she cares so much about this place.”

“I’m sorry for all the shit I gave you in the beginning, you know. I think it pushed you to be strong and decisive, but I am sorry if it hurt you.”

“Not gonna lie, I was pretty pissed for a while. But Star always understood. Always gave you the benefit of the doubt.”

“She’s a special girl.”

And Dick could have gone on about how perfect his wife was - how incomparably sweet and passionate and fiery she could be. How strongly she fought for their family. How lovingly she accepted everyone into her heart.

But he simply nodded and raised his watch to check the time, grinning at his father.

“How about that drink, old man? Push away some of those pre-wedding jitters?”

Bruce’s lips twitched in amusement, but Dick still caught the happy creases around his eyes.

“As long as Alfred doesn’t catch us, I’m game.”

“Afraid he’ll kick your ass?” Dick teased, swiftly dodging a well-aimed slap upside the head.

“It’s my wedding day, son. I get a free pass. I’m looking out for you.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Dick chuckled, “you always do.”

[purecamp]

Now I Just Made It; I Found You At Last

not submitting this to AQ bc it’s not like.... relevant but anyway have this

Justin stared blankly at the screen in front of him, willing the little clock on the right hand corner to tick by just a little faster. The week had been long, gruelling - a new project was in the planning stages and as the most qualified architect for the job, Justin was under pressure to deliver above and beyond his usual high standard. Of course, it was enjoyable work, and it paid well, but he was finding himself feeling… well, stagnant. He needed a change of scenery, a breath of fresh air.

New York wasn’t a source of fresh air, per se. It was the world of business, the world he had thrown himself into with reckless abandon and found himself all the better for it. At the age of thirty eight, he found himself in a spacious apartment, not quite a penthouse but near enough, and enough spare expenses to dote on himself any luxuries he desired.

It was a busy, bustling, comfortable life. Affordable luxuries, a good job, a nice home.

Admittedly it wasn’t the life Justin had expected to find himself in. He had been sure, when he was young, that at this point in his life he would be married, perhaps with a few children. Luxuries meant little to him - he preferred simplicity and experiences over the expensive pressed suits and cufflinks that mattered so much to the people around him. In a way, he felt like a marionette playing a part made for someone else. He had tailored his life this way, and was finally starting to feel like he had outgrown the role.

A change was needed, but the clock wasn’t ticking fast enough.

“Mr Honard? Sir? Your coffee.”

The timid intern nudged the door open with her foot, smiling shyly as she placed the cup onto the desk. A few moments passed, and she didn’t leave.

“Miss Michaels, is there something I can do for you?” Justin asked her, as politely as he could manage. The girl couldn’t have been any older than eighteen, and he still remembered the days of feeling like a useless asset to a company much bigger than him. Nowadays he was the big fish, but still held as much respect as possible for the new small fry.

“Is it true that this next deal could be multi-million dollars? The girls were talking and I…” She paused. “I’d love to be that good some day.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Miss Michaels. It is true, yes. I guess this weekend won’t be a weekend for me, so I can try and get all this planning done in time for the meeting on Monday.” Justin sighed, steeling himself for the remaining five minutes of his day. “Still, work is work.”

Miss Michaels - Kameron, Justin believed her name was - excused herself, leaving him to shut down his laptop and sink into the leather chair, his eyes closing against his will. A multi-million dollar deal lay in front of him, and would only take a weekend of precise work to consolidate. Why, then, did he feel so stale? Where was the passion? Why did he feel like he was just running in circles, getting nowhere?

His yellow cab was already waiting after his swift exit from the office, still unsure as to whether he wanted to take up the generous offer that resided in his emails, waiting to be picked up. He would be a fool not to do it, and he knew it well. But that didn’t stop the nagging feeling that something in his life needed replacing, or uprooting. He was stuck.

It was, unsurprisingly enough, a slight deviation from his usual habits that led to the chain events that would end that stagnant, stuck-in-the-mud emptiness from Justin’s life once and for all.

His first action upon hearing the telltale ‘ding!’ of the lift to his apartment was to check his mailbox. Normally, he’d wait and open everything on Monday; nothing of any urgency arrived through the mail, and it was usually work-related documents that he would prefer to handle at work, or useless promotions and menus from establishments he would never eat from.

But the day had left him feeling sullen and somewhat bored, and he subconsciously begged for something that would let him escape for a while. Maybe a brochure for a slightly discounted holiday would be stuffed within the bank statements and tax filings, and he could use that as an excuse for some sort of holiday. Croatia had been nice, as had Egypt.

He pulled the various envelopes out and unlocked the apartment, throwing himself onto the sofa to sift through them all.

Bank statement, bank statement, last month’s tax returns, a notice from the last build, an automated thank you letter from two months ago… and a blue envelope.

Hmm. A small stamp decorated the corner of the envelope, depicting a classically beautiful Aphrodite, rising in her nude glory from the depths of the ocean. In the middle, in black ink, unfamiliar handwriting had scrawled Justin Honard.

Curious but not yet hopeful enough to pin any excitement onto the contents of the envelope, he pulled out the paper inside. It was neatly folded in half, concealing the contents, although judging by its size, it seemed unlikely that it was a letter. Perhaps an invitation to a party of some kind, or a charity gala.

It is with sheer delight that this happy couple announces their engagement!

A date was printed underneath, and the name of a hotel that Justin didn’t recognise. Glancing up, he didn’t recognise the names of the bride or groom either - only first names were provided, under the assumption that whoever was receiving the invitation clearly knew the couple well enough to be certain of whose wedding they were going to be attending.

Briefly, he wondered if the invitation had come to him by mistake. Yet clear as day, his name was written on the envelope, and…

Justin’s heart skipped a beat. Beneath the unfamiliar hotel, a much more familiar location was listed, somewhere he knew he would never be able to return to in good conscience.

The island.

He held his breath. There was no way he could return, not a chance in Hell. God, he hadn’t thought about her in so long…

Well, that was a lie. She crossed his mind at the most inane of times, not always, but often enough that her presence remained always in the back of his mind, reminding him of the things he’d done. Her laughter still echoed in his ears, her tears still haunted his dreams. But he hadn’t properly relived that one awful, fateful day in decades. How could he go back there - her home - knowing how much he had hurt her?

Then his eyes darted down to the very bottom of the invitation, and he stopped breathing altogether.

Please come. -Sharon

She… She…

It made no sense.

Sharon hated him. She had made that clear.

It had been twenty years…

But no. He knew that girl - that woman. Their love affair may have been brief, but Justin knew more about her than he knew about the world around him, the career he had chosen, the life he had perfected. He knew that she smelt like vanilla and sea-salt and makeup. He knew that she liked short skirts and tight pleather and simple cotton sheets against her skin. He knew that her heart and soul were comprised of hellish fire, and for better or for worse, she felt every emotion that struck her with the intensity of a thousand lovers.

Sharon wasn’t a fool, he knew that. She would never carelessly forgive him for ruining her.

It made no sense. This was some cruel joke, a trick played by a god to punish him for daring to try and break free from his own life’s restraints. And yet… why had he sprung to his feet? Why were the rest of letters discarded on the floor, with only this invitation clutched between his trembling fingers? Why was he already heading towards the bedroom to pack his things?

Damn it all. Sharon hadn’t been part of his life for two long decades and yet she was still able to undo him at his very core and unravel everything he had built without her. What did any of it mean, anyway? His illustrious career and expensive apartment in a city he didn’t truly love - why did any of that matter? He had been searching desperately for any kind of whim that would allow him to escape once and for all.

Love him or hate him, Sharon’s name was signed at the bottom of the invite, and it took Justin mere minutes to fill his suitcase with clothing. Simple clothing - the kind one would wear to fall in love on a magical Greek island, rather than seal business deals in the industrial side of New York City. Anything else could be found on the way. Time, all of a sudden, seemed to be of the essence. Twenty years melted into nothing.

He dashed out of the door in disarray, his suitcase packed, his top-three shirt buttons undone and his hair mussed from raking his hands through it. A last-minute flight was booked to Athens and Justin knew that from array of taxicabs he could see from his window that making his way to the airport would be no trouble at all.

And somehow, just like that, Sharon Needles turned his whole life upside down once again, a whole twenty years after she’d done it the first time.

-

“Are you fucking kidding! Is this a joke? Is this some cosmic fucking joke?”

The man a few feet away from Justin uttered his inner sentiments perfectly as he gazed after the small red dot on the horizon.

“Hello? Fucking ferry? Come back!”

He sighed. “I need to get to that fucking island. This is fucked.”

Justin nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And the next ferry-”

“Tuesday. Bad tide or some shit like that. I can’t wait that long!” The other man complained. “I have a wedding!”

Justin’s ears pricked. “Trixie and Brian?”

“You know them?”

“No.” Justin answered truthfully. “I have an invite… I know someone on the island.”

That was as much detail as he felt comfortable providing to this total stranger. After all, how would he even begin to explain his predicament? Hi, stranger. I emailed the multi-million dollar deal company with a short email explaining that I am unavailable, turned down the biggest job of my career for a chance that I might see a girl whose heart I broke twenty years ago, and ten hours later I’m stood on a dock at the edge of mainland Greece next to you, having missed the only ferry that will take me to her, and somehow a wedding is involved in this entire convoluted mess of a story.

The other man shrugged. “Same. I’m Willam.”

“Justin.”

Willam’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he recognised the name, but he shrugged a second time and held out his hand to shake it. Two heads were better than one, and somehow they needed to find a way across a large expanse of ocean to one of the most remote islands he had ever been to.

God, he’d missed that little pocket of paradise.

“Okay, maybe we can…” Willam trailed off. “Nope, I got nothing. Like, I have a boat, but it’s on the island and that’s not fucking useful right now. I need it here.”

“A boat? I have a boat!” A third voice chimed in. The owner of said voice smiled rakishly, gesturing to what looked like a barely seaworthy vessel bobbing in the waves a few feet away from them. Both Justin and Willam grimaced at it. “Uh-”

“Kidding!” He grinned, and pointed to a much larger boat, named The Carey. “She’s served me well, this one has. Anyway, you two gentlemen look like you need a ride and I’m nothing if not a generous Samaritan.”

Call him superstitious, it felt like a sign. The man introduced himself as Jaremi, and soon enough they were loading their things onto his boat, preparing to sail across to the island he’d missed so much. It had to be fate, for everything to align so perfectly. Someone up there was making sure, one way or another, that he would make it to this island. He was sure, tucked in his pocket, the little Aphrodite stamp was winking at him. This was her doing.

“So you’re Jaremi Carey? That guy who writes about weird places?” Willam interrogated him, the wind whipping his blonde hair into his face. Justin had taken a liking to Willam in the hour that he’d known him, and was warming to Jaremi too. He spoke little as the other two chatted away, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon for any evidence that the island he had been dreaming of hadn’t been purely fictitious.

It seemed like one of those serendipitous moments in life where a common purpose united three total strangers. Jaremi, too, had an invitation to the wedding, and was equally as cagey about his association with the bride or groom. A more rational Justin would think on it, trying to conjure reasons for such a strange link between them, but he couldn’t.

Not once had he been able to think clearly when Sharon was around. She was all-consuming, her love encompassing him in ways he never knew love could. She had been self-professed innocent when he met her, but it was truly him who had been naive to what love could do to a man. In a matter of weeks he was completely changed, enthralled with this laughing goddess and her deep blue eyes. Her picture was as fresh in his mind as it had been twenty years ago.

Perhaps stupidly, he had dug out those photos of her and packed them into his suitcase, just to remind himself, selfishly, that she had loved him once. He didn’t deserve an ounce of her heart, not anymore, but it was a comfort to him knowing that, for a short time, she had loved him with everything she had. She didn’t need to know that his love for her had never died down, anyway. Justin was sure she was now perfectly happy with the man of her dreams.

But maybe…?

No. Justin stopped the fluttering hope in his chest as soon as it blossomed. She had asked him to come to the wedding, but that didn’t mean she had spent twenty years pining for his return. He was being ridiculous; a woman like Sharon would never allow herself to sink so low. She was strong, smart, resilient - and somebody as intoxicating as her would definitely have been treated right by now.

Whatever the situation, Justin told himself he didn’t care. He would get to see her again, and that was reward enough.

-

Oh my god, it was Sharon.

It wasn’t Sharon, but it might well have been. She was every bit Sharon, from head-to-toe she was his ex-lover, radiant and beautiful at no more than twenty years old. Standing before them, she regarded them with sparkling eyes and a nervous smile.

“Perhaps this young lady will be able to help us… Hello there! We three strangers have been invited to a wedding by Sharon, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about what’s going on, would you? I’m Jaremi.” He offered his hand for the young girl to shake, which she accepted.

When she spoke, her voice was breathless and yet - still so similar to hers. Sweeter, and higher, Justin noted. Sharon’s had more of a rasp to it, a husk that he had never been able to forget. Twenty years on, and the exact tone of her voice hadn’t escaped the depths of his memory.

“Yes, yes… Yes, we’re expecting you. You two must be Justin and Willam.”

Willam nodded and introduced himself, letting Justin go last. As each of them spoke, the young girl eyed them with a peculiar look. It seemed innocent and curious enough, but it was almost as if she was searching for something. After a few moments, she seemed to shake out of her trance and tucked a lock of her hair - golden blonde, like Sharon’s - behind her ear.

“Come with me, we have rooms for you. Well… one room. We’re a little tied up for space at the moment, with this wedding that’s happening.”

She led them, but she needn’t have bothered. Justin still remembered every step of the way, every winding path that would eventually lead to the taverna, every secret cave and cove perfect for a romantic evening or - as he tried not to dwell on for too long - a passionate embrace. It was only when they reached what used to be a rocky hill and an old wooden shack that things were new to him. The aforementioned hotel stood before them, shining white in the Greek sunshine.

She did it, Justin thought to himself, knowing he had no right to be proud and yet filled with pride all the same. She achieved her dream.

“We’ll, uh, have to go round the back of everything.” The girl told them, smiling sweetly as she took them into the lower courtyard. Her eyes seemed to be darting back and forth. “Everything’s a little hectic, so it’s easier that way.”

“Seems fair. Is Sharon around?” Justin spoke up.

God. Even saying her name was like a breath of fresh air away from his old life. It was as if at once, the stress and mundanity of his regular life dissipated. Her name on his lips had more power than he knew what to do with.

“Not at the moment, but I’m sure she will be.” She replied after a moment’s hesitation, steering them through alleys and shortcuts and clambering over boxes of hay and bottles and fresh produce. It seemed like a strange way to get to a hotel room, granted, but the three had decided unanimously not to argue with the girl. Clearly, she knew the hotel better than they did.

Maybe five or so minutes later, they arrived. All three began to settle their bags onto one of the three beds, as the girl dusted herself off to look a little more presentable for their official introduction. It had been a little bit of an arduous journey, given the morning heat, and she looked a little flustered as she smiled apologetically at them.

“Sorry if this seemed a little rushed… I’m Trixie.”

Ah. So this was the girl from the invite.

“You’re the girl getting married?”

Trixie’s face split into a beam, and she lifted her hand to reveal the silver ring on her finger. Justin’s vision tunnelled - that smile was one he had never been able to forget, practically pasted onto someone else’s face. He had known from the moment he saw her, but that smile seemed to confirm everything for him. Unknown feelings - not pleasant, but not unpleasant - bubbled in his stomach. She was talking, but Justin couldn’t understand a word of it. She… She…

“You’re Sharon’s daughter.”

Sharon had a daughter. Sharon, the love of his life, immortalised in his memory at the tender age of seventeen, had a daughter. This was undoubtedly her, stood before him. Proof that Sharon had managed to move on with her life after they had fallen apart. She had something truly marvellous to show for it.

Seemingly caught unawares, Trixie just nodded helplessly.

“I knew you looked familiar.” Justin found himself unable to stop, his mind now flooded with thoughts of her. “God, I bet she hasn’t aged a day.”

Seeing Trixie was jarring. He knew Sharon would be different now, especially given how much he had changed in their years apart, but meeting her daughter who was nothing if not the exact image of Sharon in her youth had fucked with his head. He somehow knew that Sharon would be even more beautiful than she had been before, a feat he had long thought impossible.

“I know she’s busy, but can I see her? I want to thank her for this invite-”

“No!” Trixie rushed out, her expression filling with fear. It was yet another look that Justin knew all too well; he had seen it on her mom, way back when her biggest worry was her own mother’s wrath. “I… shit. Mom didn’t send the invitations to you, I did. She doesn’t know you’re here.”

And just like that, Justin’s euphoria shattered.

“Listen.” She whispered, drawing closer. “She’s been so stressed constantly about my wedding, so I felt bad and invited you guys to cheer her up. She talks about her friends from the past all the time, I thought she’d like it.”

Friends. Friends didn’t even begin to cover what they had. Nor indeed what they had left behind. Justin was definitely something of an enemy, the way he’d broken her heart. He shouldn’t have come at all.

Trixie took a deep breath and continued. “Just… if she sees you, don’t tell her you’re here for my wedding. Make something up, a happy coincidence that you’re here. Please. She’ll freak out at having unexpected guests, I just know it, but once she gets past the stress she’ll be so happy.”

Justin sighed heavily. “I shouldn’t be here, I should go. Trixie, your mom hates me.”

Hate, too, felt like a massive understatement. He had been told in no uncertain terms exactly what she thought of his scumbag, lying self, and he had deserved every second of it. The pain it caused him bore no weight against everything that he had done to her, and he wondered if Trixie actually knew the truth about him. Surely, she wouldn’t be so kind if she knew how he had treated her mom.

“Maybe she did, twenty years ago.” Trixie countered, with that obstinate look he knew so well. “No one can hold a grudge, or any kind of feeling, for that long. You can’t just go! I want you at my wedding, all of you!”

Willam and Jaremi, slowly, began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Though his heart felt heavy, Justin cracked a smile as Trixie’s intent dawned on him. Whatever she was planning remained a mystery, but it was clear she had gleaned her persuasive skills from her mom.

Jaremi took his hat off and grinned. “You’re a firecracker, like your mom. He’ll stay, won’t you Justin?”

He sighed. “I suppose I have to. Seems like your mom’s taught you all her old tricks. There’s no way of getting out of this, is there?”

Trixie beamed, clearly relieved. “Nope! Remember what I said - lie, lie, and lie again. She can’t know I invited you, or that you’re here for the wedding. She’ll go insane.”

She paused. “And, uh, trust me when I say insane. She’s a little crazy right now, handling all this on her own.”

God, what a fucking superstar. She’s achieved so many great things.

“I need to get going…” Trixie murmured, her expression regretful. “Thank you so much for accepting those invites.”

Justin snorted, but there was no malice in it. It felt more like resignation - one way or another, he was going to have to stay here, all because Sharon’s daughter had convinced him. “It was always impossible to say no to your mother. Twenty years, and nothing’s changed.”

[feargender]

impossibility is a kiss away from reality

read on ao3 here

This wedding is shaping up to be exactly nothing like Alec’s first one. They’ve abandoned the ceremony hall in the Institute for a tree lined glade, the location of one of Magnus and Alec’s dates before they had even made a year. It was spring then, the clearing littered with pink and white flowers, golden sunshine shining down on them like the benevolent eyes of some deity, blessing their love.

It’s autumn, now, the blue and purple dusky sky meeting the treetops. A rough wood pavilion has been erected toward the center of the glade and leading up to it is a neatly grown path of gold wildflowers, flanked by rows of seats. There must be thousands of lanterns floating above it all, illuminating the scene with a serene yellow glow.

The entire day is dipped in gold.

With a little bit of effort, Magnus and Catarina orchestrated the construction of several permanent portals to the glade. One stationed at the Institute, another at the loft, another at the Hunter’s Moon. Guests are trickling in from each, warlocks and Shadowhunters and werewolves and mundanes. Simon is the only vampire present so far, the rest waiting for the sun to dip just a little lower behind the trees.

Alec watches them from the tree line, the only privacy allotted to him while Isabelle, wearing a stunning purple gown with her hair piled into a complicated twist around the back of her head, fusses with his clothes. She smooths his lapels and straightens his tie, licking her fingers to neaten his hair before he ducks out of her reach. She takes a centering breath and beams at him, eyes wide and wet beneath pretty gold makeup.

“How do I look?” he asks, gesturing down to himself. Though Magnus had joked about recycling his first wedding tuxedo, he is wearing a different one. It’s pale gold and stitched with blue, creating runes of love, longevity, luck and trust. His tie is a dark gold, and he tugs at it awkwardly, feeling constricted.

“You look ready, big brother,” Isabelle says softly, touching her fingers to the underside of her eyes, a movement Alec knows is meant to dissuade herself from crying. “I just did my eyeliner,” she mumbles, sniffling.

Alec looks away from her, giving her a moment to compose herself, and casts his eyes toward the pavilion. Before the adamas dais stands Brother Zachariah (“Please, Alec, call me Jem”). The adamas, Alec knows, will activate two new steles. One for him, and one for Magnus.

It was a conversation they had started almost a year ago. With the topic of marriage came the topic of immortality, and Alec’s lack thereof. The most obvious solution was vampirism, which Alec turned down, but in doing so left a problem. He didn’t have any interest in keeping a mortal lifespan when he could spend eternity with Magnus by his side.

The answer, in the end, was as simple as it was complex. The magic inside of warlocks is what keeps them alive, gives them their longevity. Warlocks need magic as much as they need air. If Alec were to be bound to Magnus’ magic, it would keep him alive, too.

However, no spell had proved to be powerful enough to guarantee Alec both immortality and keeping his sanity in tact. In the end, it was Catarina’s idea to ask Clary. She could make runes for necromancy, immortality didn’t seem to be much of a stretch.

Clary spent nearly two weeks in the Silent City with Jem, experimenting with new runes. Runes that could be drawn on a Downworlder, runes that could bind Downworlder and Shadowhunter irrevocably.

The rune ended up looking familiar. Sweeps and curves like an iratze, intricate like the parabatai rune. New as a baby. His future.

Movement catches Alec’s eye, an arrival from the portal leading to the loft. Quickly, Isabelle’s strong grip is on his shoulders, jerking him around, smiling knowingly. “Bad luck,” she says, “seeing the groom before the wedding.”

“This is the wedding,” Alec says, gesturing behind himself, but doesn’t fight her. The anticipation of seeing his husband for the first time in days at the altar coils pleasantly in his stomach, so he’s content to wait. The fact that Simon, urged on by the final descent of the sun, begins playing a slow song on his piano off to the side of the pavilion at that moment doesn’t hurt, either. Alec won’t have to restrain himself for long.

“Got the ring?” he asks Isabelle, who waves the silver band under his nose. “Got the stele?” She rolls her eyes, but flashes him the stele hidden in the pocket of her dress.

He offers his arm, then, and Isabelle takes it. His legs suddenly feel weak, a swarm of butterflies raging inside of him, trying to escape up his throat. Isabelle’s hand looped in the crook of his elbow is the only thing keeping him steady.

She tugs him forward and he walks, timing his steps with hers, counting in his head as he nears the flowered path. He feels the soft crunch of thin petals and dead grass underfoot, looks around at his friends and family cast in flickering shadows under the floating lanterns. He catches Maryse’s gaze, her eyes shining and wet already, hand clasped tightly in Luke’s. Luke winks at him and Alec grins.

Madzie is wiggling in her seat next to Dot and waves at him, wearing a frilly yellow dress and flower crown. Alec waves back and she giggles, gripping the edges of her seat and looking behind him, up at the lanterns, to Isabelle in her flowing gown. Her jittery excitement mirrors exactly how Alec feels. His heart is pounding, wanting to be everywhere at once; wanting wanting wanting.

He reaches the dais, Jem regarding him with what could be mirth, swathed in parchment colored robes. Isabelle takes her place just behind him and he looks down the aisle. There are smiling faces of family and friends there, happy for him. Their joy is practically contagious, but there’s no room for them in his mind anymore.

Every thought, every sense, is focused on Magnus approaching him. He has Catarina on his arm, who is murmuring something to him. His suit jacket and pants are dark gold, the shirt beneath so pale it could be white, only it glimmers in the lantern lights. His tie is midnight blue, Alec was there when he chose it.

He meets Magnus’ eyes and thinks of every cheesy romance line he’s ever laughed at and regrets. There’s no way he could ever describe this feeling to another person without writing a thousand page book about it. This is the feeling that ends wars and builds up civilizations. This is what every poet has ever been trying to convey. It almost feels like heartbreak. There is an ache in his chest, thudding along with his pulse, as his heart cracks open like a geode, revealing so much beauty inside that he may die from it.

Several eons later, Magnus makes it to the dais. He takes Alec’s hands and Alec expends an admirable amount of self restraint when he doesn’t kiss Magnus then and there before Jem ever gets the chance to speak.

“You can’t cry before I even start my vows,” Magnus chastises quietly, reaching up and brushing the few escaped tears from Alec’s cheeks. Alec hadn’t even noticed them there.

“I’m just a sensitive guy, I guess,” Alec whispers back and they dissolve into fits of giggles, which Jem waits out before his omnivoice addresses the congregation.

I have never before presided over a union, he begins, but change is a necessity of life. This marriage symbolizes the greatest change any of us here may ever bear witness to. A bridge between two worlds, forged in the heat of a love that could not be contained.

Silent Brother voices contain no emotion, but Alec thinks Jem is proud of them.

In the hush that follows, Alec realizes it’s his turn to speak. He clears the tears from his throat, draws on the memory of weeks spent planning the vows he’s about to deliver, and begins.

“Magnus,” he starts, voice awkwardly deep and ceremonial. Magnus feigns a serious expression before grinning, squeezing Alec’s hands. “Magnus,” he says again, softer, calmer, Magnus’ grip steadying him. “For most of my life, I felt like I was in a balancing act. There were too many versions of me fighting each other in my own mind. I thought that I had to sacrifice parts of myself for the good of the man I was meant to be. I was meant to be a leader, a brother and son my family could be proud of. A warrior that my community could admire. I was prepared to give up anyone ever truly knowing me, or ever loving someone wholly, for that.

“You ruined all of that. I saw you and my plans shattered to a million pieces. Every version of myself focused on you. You helped me realize that I life where I wasn’t free to be who I am wasn’t a life at all. And now I can’t imagine a life without you in it. With you, I’ve been able to be a good leader, brother, and son. A good man. Magnus Bane, the man I’m meant to be is the man that loves you. That’s the best version of myself. The me that exists when I’m with you,” Alec finishes, letting out a long breath. It catches in his throat when tears spill over Magnus’ cheeks and he shakes with a wet laugh.

“I can’t compete with that,” he mumbles, releasing his grip on Alec long enough for him to get the ring from Isabelle, who is shaking with her own happy tears, and slide it onto Magnus’ finger.

“Alexander,” Magnus says, taking Alec’s hands back in his, new ring pressing into his skin, “I have lived a very, very long time. I have seen and experienced it all, I thought I knew the extents of what the world had to offer. What my own heart had to offer. It came to a point where the idea of change disturbed me. The world around me could change all it wanted, but I would stay the same, calcified. I believed that there was nothing truly new under the sun.

“You were new. With you, I have felt things I never thought possible. I have changed. My heart is altered forever by your presence in my life. As I’ve watched you grow, I have grown also. From the morning you woke up on my couch, I knew that I would never be the same. I knew, even, that I could not go back to the way I was. I was trapped inside of myself, a living fossil. Not any longer. Now, I can imagine no better future than a future in which I get to spend the rest of my life changing with you,” Magnus finishes, smiling a watery smile before he turns to Catarina.

Alec can feel his heart in his throat, pounding in time with the tears pressing behind his eyes. His entire world is a blur. Blur, and Magnus. When Magnus slips the ring onto Alec’s finger, a broken sob breaks past his lips. Then he’s moving, grabbing Magnus by the lapels of his jacket and kissing him. Salty tears are running into both of their mouths and noses and Magnus is laughing against Alec’s lips, but this is the best kiss of Alec’s life.

Magnus pulls away first, placing his hands against Alec’s chest and saying, “I think we skipped a few steps.”

“I love you so fucking much,” Alec replies breathlessly.

“I love you, too,” Magnus says. “Forever.” He reaches behind him blindly and Catarina hands him the stele. He looks down at it in his hand as he presses it to the adamas, looking to Jem. Alec does the same, hand shaking.

Jem, with great dignity, says, Now, this marriage will be bound with a rune that will stand the test of eternity. If we can get through the ceremony without any more interruptions. He turns his head toward Alec, who just grins ridiculously as the steles gleam, activated with angelic power.

Magnus goes first, undoing Alec’s cuff on his left hand and exposing his wrist beneath, tracing a glowing, fiery rune on the bare skin there. It burns brightly, almost blinding, as Alec reaches for Magnus’ wrist. He meets Magnus’ eyes before pressing the stele to his skin, catching Magnus’ encouraging nod.

When the last line is drawn, Alec’s entire arm begins to burn. He clutches at Magnus tightly, angelic power and warlock magic both coursing through them, sparking between their bodies like lightning. It echoes in the cavern of Alec’s chest, settling beneath his ribs and against his heart, magic coiling its way up his spine with sharp fingers.

His mouth drops open at the feeling. He can feel Magnus’ life source, that magic which binds his soul to his body and his body to this earth, expanding. Wrapping around him, inside of him, taking him in. His heartbeat stutters and changes rhythm, throbbing along with Magnus’. The air is punched out of his lungs and the next breath he draws is different.

The first breath drawn with lungs that will never tire, air filling an immortal chest.

Alec glances toward Jem, who nods. Then, he’s moving in and kissing Magnus again, magic still crackling between them like a lightning storm. Magnus cups Alec’s neck with both hands, warm with life. Alec clenches Magnus’ suit jacket tightly, pressing closer.

The cheers that erupt from the assembled crowd registers, to Alec, as the sound of new beginnings, underlaid with his and Magnus’ breathing.

This is his eternity.

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

Hey guys, remember when I wrote Caryl fanfic? Remember when sometimes I’d even write fluff? And that one time, many years ago, when I wrote a Valentines Day fic?  No?  Ok, here’s the reminder: I did. Happy Valentines (Galentines, Palentines, whatever-tines) Day! <3

Coming Home (also on 9L)

He wasn’t allowing her in the house.

When she’d left that morning, he’d told her in no uncertain terms that she had to stay away until 7pm. She knew better than to pry, though her curiosity was piqued as high as a Middle Eastern skyscraper.

So she baked, cooked, cookie cutter-smiled, and gritted her teeth through the silliness that was Alexandria, wondering for the thousandth time that day how these people had survived so long. When lunch and its cleanup were complete, she visited with Jude and Michonne until Carl came home from his classes taught by one of the two still-living teachers. She wandered slowly by the house in hopes of catching a glimpse of…? Him? Activities inside? What is he doing?

But no such luck. The blinds were down, and she could see the tint of the dark blue curtains behind them.

She stopped by the chapel to…think—she wasn’t sure she could call it praying anymore because she feared He wouldn’t hear her, but she visited nonetheless.

The clock only read 5:30pm when she’d finished, so she strolled to the kid’s park a few blocks away and did a few pull-ups like Michonne had taught her. The woman was a fitness expert, lithe, agile, and muscular in a way she never would be, and Michonne had given Carol more than few tips on her fitness routine to continue strengthening her muscles. She did a few yoga poses for good measure and to try to calm her nerves.

What’s going on with him anyway? she wondered. He’s never kicked me out before. And why only me? Glenn and Maggie are free to go home. What are they cooking up?

When it was 6:45, she couldn’t stay away any longer and power-walked home. She stood on the stoop, raised her hand to  knock—as he’d asked her to do when he told her she couldn’t come home—and froze, nerves a jumbled mess and anxiety filling her. What’s on the other side of this door?

Don’t be a baby, she chided herself. Just knock and find out.

She rapped on the door and shuffled around on her feet until the knob turned and Daryl opened the door wide.

Her breath stopped momentarily, taking in the site of him: his black t-shirt making his deep blue eyes pop, the jeans—new by the looks of them—a sight to behold, as she couldn’t recall him ever having worn blue jeans before. His shock of black hair was washed and groomed, shining and combed out of his face for once.

“You’re early,” he stated in his low southern drawl.

“I…” She couldn’t stop staring at him. He looked different, was looking at her differently. She was mesmerized. “…couldn’t stay away….any longer.”

He gave her a knowing smile, which further confounded her because she didn’t know

He held out his hand, and it took her a few seconds to realize he was waiting for hers. She placed her palm over his. He drew her inside and reached around her with his other hand to close and lock the door behind her.

“Daryl,” she wondered aloud. “What’s going on?”

He gazed down at her for a few moments before answering. “Somethin’ that shoulda happened a long time ago. Back at the prison. I…” he trailed off, his eyes drifting to their joined hands as he moved them until their fingers interlocked, then set his intense gaze on her.

Her heart hammered in her chest. What was he doing?

”I was scared before,” he admitted softly. “Still am. But...too much time has passed as it is. And you…” His other hand came up to cup her cheek as he stepped closer to her. “Carol…” he whispered before slowly leaning towards her.

He moved slowly, giving her ample time to move away or reject him, but she was too stunned to move—and most certainly wouldn’t have stopped him if she could.

She closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers, softly, tenderly, and she almost collapsed at the reverence in his moves. She’d never been kissed with such passionate restraint before, and she moaned into his mouth as he gently tugged her closer to him.

Deep-seated fear—of intimacy, of the unknown with him, of him in the role as hunter of her—gripped her for a moment. He must’ve felt the change in her because he withdrew enough to rest his forehead against hers.

”Is this okay?” he questioned, and she could hear his own fear in the words. “I wanted to…for so long…never the right time though. One of us is always runnin’ off and somebody always needs help. But now…we got a home and walls, and God only knows how long this’ll last. And livin’ with you every day and sleepin’ in the room next to you every night knowin’ how close you are but not able ta—”

She crushed her lips against his, unable to listen to his sweet, tentative ramblings any longer without crying.

And kissing him was a much better alternative.

It wasn’t long before her hands roamed from his hair to his back, his shoulders, his chest, trying to touch him all over in the hopes she could make him feel even a fraction of the passion he was making thrum within her. His hands stayed firm on her hips, holding her close to him but not moving. Out of fear? Shock at her boldness? Did he not want—?

He pulled her closer, then shuffled backwards as she moved forward, never more than a few inches away from him. She didn’t realize where he was moving them until he plopped down on the couch and slid his hands to her thighs, looking up at her with such heated intensity she thought she might melt on the spot.

”Carol…” he whispered.

“Yes?” she breathed. She wanted so badly to be bold, knew what she wanted to do with him sitting willingly before her with his hands branding his touch into her skin. With the heavy petting she’d just initiated, he probably thought her crazy, but she just couldn’t make that move. Too many years of intimate humiliation, forced encounters, and derogatory comments about her body, her skills, her. They started to swoop in.

“No.”

The word, gentle but resolute, startled her.

“Whatever you’re thinkin’….just…no. I’ve watched you grow into your strength and come to terms with you. The real you. And she’s amazing. You’re amazing. You’re with me now…if you wanna be…?” It hung in the air like a question, and she nodded unhesitatingly. “You’re stunning. And if it takes me all night,” with a quirk of his eyebrow, he grinned, “or the resta my days on this godforsaken Earth for you ta believe it, I’mma spend 'em provin’ it to you.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded in acceptance of what he offered.

“Come’ere,” he coaxed, pulling her gently to him. She straddled him on the couch, her face tinged red. He cupped her face with one hand, the other sliding up her thigh to rest on her hip. “I love you,” he whispered.

She wanted to repeat the phrase, but the words froze in her throat. So she leaned toward him and said the only other thing she could think of.

“Show me?”

He smiled. “Gladly.”

*****************************************************************

“I didn’t plan for this…I mean, I’d hoped, but I don’t want you ta think…I wasn’t tryin’ ta…I mean…shit.”

She giggled against his neck, and he sighed heavily. “It’s okay.”

“I wanted ta surprise you.”

“And you did!” she exclaimed. “It was a very big…” she paused for emphasis. “and pleasant surprise.”

“Hmph, thanks. For me too.” He kissed her shoulder. “I made dinner for ya.”

She looked at him, eyes wide. “You did?”

“ ‘Course. I wasn’t plannin' on startin’ with dessert.”

Pink flushed her cheeks. “Was a nice start to the evening though.”

“Mmm. You worked up an appetite yet?”

“Definitely.”

“Come'on.”

She slipped his t-shirt over her head and padded after him as he righted and zipped up his jeans.

“Oh,” she gasped as she entered the kitchen. Candlelight flickered around the simple vase holding white roses and over the two place settings on the table. Her eyes met his. “You did this…”

He nodded. “Wanted you to have a nice Valentine’s Day.”

She was taken aback. “Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah. Glenn found out from Olivia—they been keeping track’a the days here—and told me not to expect him and Maggie home tonight. Thought it was a perfect night to…tell you how I feel.”

She walked over to him, placing her hands on his chest and gazing up at him with tenderness in her eyes. “It is perfect.”

“And we’re just gettin’ started.”

She slid her arms over his shoulders and around his neck. “Don’t I know it.”

He smiled at her, and her heart soared. How little he smiles, she thought. “No one’s ever…treated me on Valentine’s Day before.”

“From now on, I will. You deserve it. And not only on Valentine’s Day.”

She gazed up at him, her heart overflowing with emotions she’d held at bay for far too long. “I love you, too,” she breathed, drawing him down to her. She kissed him thoroughly, and neither of them were sad that dinner turned cold.

[ikonislife]

Sweet Words.

-Bobby x Reader

-Wedding had always been an emotional feat for the bride and groom but strangely enough, it also brought out something in Bobby that he can no longer contain.

- Thank you so much for sending in your request. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get this out. School and work are crazy as always. I’m slowly working down my request list. Thank you for being patient. I know you were probably just expecting straight fluff but it was too short when I wrote it out. I changed it up a bit and I hope you don’t mind, just to give it a bit of extra tidbits. I felt like if i waited this long to finish it, it deserves a bit more than a 300 words drabble.

As the shuffles of feet and settling of bodies simmered down, the string quartet heavenly strums of Canon in D faded out signaling the start of the beautiful ceremony. It was honestly the most perfect day for the start of something new. Brick red roof of the rotunda gleams under the sun’s playful rays, standing proud and tall donning streams of fluttering blush chiffon draping. A great ombre of pastel pink and white peonies weaved themselves along the pillars, competing with the red rose bushes below meandering the edges of the great field of plush green grass. Guests of all ages adorned their best outfits edging at their seats waiting to witness the wondrous moment while the groom stood still, trying his best to mask the rising gush of butterflies in his stomach.

The bride had descended down the aisle barely a heartbeat ago, arm nervously enclosed around her father’s. Her face lit up as it seemed she could only focus on one spot despite the breathtaking sight of thousands flowers quivering slightly in the breeze of the dawn of summer, bursting with life atop the pedestals lining the aisle. She sighed a breath of relief as her father passing on the honor of holding her hand through life to the nerve wrecked groom. He barely had time to dry the joyous tear shed watching his beautiful bride floated across the petals paved walkway in her beautiful white dress like the most ethereal swan. A few encouraging whispers from the bride’s father had him near sobbing again as he bowed his head in utter joy that someone had trusted him enough to give him the blessing of a lifetime.

You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the soft ebbs and flows of the intricate white French lace weaving itself along the sheer chiffon glistening under the sun. A touch of glittering stones and beadings elegantly brought the perfect amount of glamour for the finishing touches. The way the dress hangs so perfectly, accentuating the bride’s figure in the most perfect way leaves you gaping in awe. No wonder the groom had shed tears witnessing his to be wife. “You okay, baby?” The dashing gentleman in a crisp black suit and matching bowtie sitting just beside you whispered as the couple began to face the officiate.

“Yea, just admiring the scene.” You muttered, eyes glued to the beginning of infinity for your lucky friends. 

Jiwon sat back in his chair, facing forward once more as his worries simmered down. You almost feared facing him as you felt the sinking of your heart, something heavy, so heavy you weren’t sure if you could get out of this chair once the ceremony was over. For now, you chose to focus on the happy couple. 

The officiate had finished telling their love story, from the moment the bride “accidentally” ran over her groom’s foot with her bicycle, to their fights, to the moment they solidified their love with the ring but more importantly the undying love they have for each other. You smiled yet already, you could felt the creaks of your heart, twisting and fighting itself with your own love story that perhaps won’t be as undying. You bit your lips in an attempt to control your emotion as you let your gaze fell onto your laps, feeling a few tears breaching your eyes as the officiate announce that the vows will now be exchange. Your hands clutching each other tightly, knuckles white from the sheer force you were exerting to restraint yourself from running out of there. Those sweet, sweet words... You haven’t been so lucky to be on the receiving ends of those in a good while now and it hurt. 

As everyone silenced to prepare for the beginning of the graceful bride’s vow, you continued your own battle, planting your feet firmer into the grass as if your sinking heels would stop you from running.

“Not in a million years would I have thought this moment would come...” The sweet voice rang out from the large speaker. “I was never one of those that believe in love at first sight or any of that romantic crap. I’m a realistic girl, you know.” The bride glanced at the audience for support, earning a few nods from friends and family. “Then, I met this guy right here my junior year of high school. Mind you, I just got out of a horrible relationship. Men were the enemy. Yet, somehow... Somehow, this guy right here was like a magnet to my cold metal heart.” Her voice wavered as the seconds tick on and so would yours if you had to speak up then. “In fact, his magnetic pull was so strong, my bicycle got sucked his way and well as my good friend slash officiate here said, I may or may not have ran over his foot on ‘accident’.” The laughters and cheers erupted from the audience were thunderous. A few shouts of “That’s my girl”, and “I knew it” bursted out having the groom in grin. A few tear had dampen the soft fabric of your dress and there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was so strange to think that you had met the wonderful man sitting next to you over six years ago. 

You barely survived high school and was thrusted into the strange world of being a semi adult in university. Your 2nd year came and gone as you sat on the floor of the waiting area by your gate, awaiting the boarding of your flight. Back against the cool glass of the giant window wall outlooking the bustling runway, your eyes fluttered close as the exciting beat of Anthem lulled your weary mind to rest. You were there, right there on the brink of sleep when a sharp pain had you cussing. A profuse string of apologies greeted your sharpening sight still drowsy from tiredness. You hadn’t realized at first, the handsome man in front of you. No, you were much too focus on the fact that he had ran your foot over with his own gigantic one while messing around with his friends.

“Son of a-...You...” was all you managed to get out before a loud gasp as the sudden realization of your eyes and brain connecting the face in front of you with the raspy voice spewing out from your headphone hit you like a freight train. 

“I... am very sorry? Wh-Why are you gaping at me like that?” He quipped rather bemused at your sudden rage dying out, kneeling with one hand on your foot, the other twisting your ankle back and forth. 

“Why is iKon’s Bobby touching my feet?” You blurted out rather nonchalantly despite your blushing cheeks and shocked eyes. He giggled at your strange comment and it was the best thing you’ve heard in weeks. 

“Why not? I literally stepped on your ankle. I should be held responsible, don’t you think? Can you stand?” His voice was laced with more worries than your dumb ex could even think of. On top of it all, that look of his face, he was so genuine about it.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ve done worse to myself... Clumsy, ya know.” You hopped up to show him just how fine you were. He chuckled a bit before waving bye, heading to the rest of the boys sitting just a few rows away from where you were. 

That night you ended up spending your sleep on the cold ground as the announcement of bad weather affecting the flight rattled through the waiting area. The groans of passenger along with apologies from the crew had you sinking with disappointment. Your summer vacation was now cut short. Then, as if God had taken a pity over your pathetic self, that addictive voice rang out once again.

“Looks like we’re stuck here for awhile...” He plopped down right next to you as if you had been BFF since 4th grade. “... You gotta stop staring at me like that.”

“Sorry...” Flustered, you tear your eyes away from his mesmerizing handsome features, fidgeting with the playlist on your phone as if it was something important.

“Oh! you’re listening to music, you were doing that earlier too. Lemme see what you’re into.” Just like that, his hand wrapped around yours pulling your phone closer to his line of sight. He chuckles impressively at a few as his slender index swipe away at the list. Muttering to himself, he only stared back up to comments on his likes and dislikes. “I’m so honored. You have Hanbin and I in the same list as Tupac, N.W.A, and all the legends.” Suddenly his eyes dipped into the cheerful crescent as he laugh heartily. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?” You shook your head in confusion.

“The staring. You gotta stop staring. I’m just a guy, not a unicorn or something.”

“What am I suppose to do. You like drop out of nowhere, step on my foot, took my phone, and make it seems like we’re best friend.” You listed and he chuckled, amused with your flustered self. “Plus, i’veneverseenacelebrityupclosebefore...letalonehimholdingmyhand...” You muttered at the speed of light as your voice slowly dimmed out to nothingness. Surely if you weren’t blushing before, you were now. All he managed to conjure up with a big laugh, clearly not relenting you any space to dig a whole and crawl down in embarrassment.

 “You speak fast enough to be feature in my next song, it’s kinda impressive...”

“Yah... stop teasing me.” Your hand  retreated from his as you use the free one to caress the spot he had been holding onto, chuckling in disbelief inwardly at the strange luck you’ve stumbled upon.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just you look cute when you get all blush-y. Hi! I’m Jiwon. Nice to meet you. Your name is?” His voice took on a cheery tone that could clear up the rain outside if he really wanted to.

“Y/n... Nice to meet you, Jiwon.”

“Y/n...” He repeated the word associated with you since even before you took your breather in this world, letting it roll around on your tongue with a soft smile. “Wanna join me and the boys? Beats sitting around on the ground by yourself.” He reached out his hand, eyes flickering toward the noisy crowd waving at you both.

“I’d love that. Thank you!”

“Not only did he not get mad but he, this freaking guy right here made sure I was alright. From that moment on I was smitten. So so so smitten in fact I promise the second we exchanged those ring, from there on out, I will admit defeat and let you hold the title of funniest person in the relationship. I promise not you make fun of you when your favorite basketball team loses... which is a lot, I won’t say what team it is. However, when the blue moon rise and they do win, I will share with you a celebratory drink.” You were in full tear now and so was she... “I promise we will grow old together, make mistakes together, and learn together.” Her voice cracked and you let out a small whimper thinking about the inevitable breakup that will forever inhibit your dream of growing old with Jiwon. 

“My love for you never needed this grand event here to be official, it always had been but I thank you for indulging me in this day I dreamt of since I was a kid. I will love you now and always.” 

She was speaking words that resonated with your own heart. You knew long before Jiwon had popped the girlfriend question that you loved him. How could you not fall in love with this lovely man. The crazy energetic rapper on stage that had girls melting for him yet with you, he was just a cutie that would move oceans for you. He gave you everything he had and everything you didn’t even ask for. You let out a sob that was lost upon the thunderous applauds of family and friends. Lost upon all but one. Unbeknown to you, Jiwon had been watching your reaction for awhile now. He knew things were less than okay between the both of you and this joyous start of his best friends could be the bitter end of his. 

Neither of you had been the same as you once were sitting on the floor at the airport that night, gushing over your interests and disinterests. Perhaps the relationship had ran it course, perhaps your love had ran out... Or perhaps you were both too exhausted to fight the inevitable. He knew the crack in the ice had been widening for awhile now but like a fool, wishful thinking and packed schedule had him pushing you off to the back burner. He knew the constant touring, the endless concerts, the never ending passion for music was unfair for you but you never once said anything. In fact, you never say anything anymore. It scared him shitless that you’re slipping out of his grip and there was nothing he could do about it. 

He felt so helpless sitting there watching you shed tears over him. You both had thought long and hard about coming to this wedding as a couple. After all, you hadn’t seen him in a week and he wasn’t sure what this encounter would do. Panic stricken the handsome face and he had to do something, anything to let him know you were still with him. So he reached out, for the first time in weeks, he reached out to you like he used to. It startled you out of your sadden day dream when the warmth from his hand began seeping into your cold dampen hands. Your head whipped up to find him already beaming at you with that smile that could comfort the devil himself. You smile, for the first time in weeks, you smiled like you used to. He found himself grinning like an idiot now, pulling your head to rest on his shoulder, hand rubbing gently on your arm. You were still crying but now, now you had your supporter to sooth your pain away. The rest of the ceremony was a blur. You couldn’t focus on anything but the way he’s holding you so close and neither could he, not when your hand so stealthily sneaked around his stomach and rested on his waist so intimately. 

Soon enough the day was coming to a close, drawing the party out of everyone. Slightly tipsy, the guests happily flooded the grand ballroom decked to the nines with blush and gold themed. The golden chair lined the glittery pastel pink table cloth donning the best centerpieces that reflected the flowers of the ceremony. The night went on as everyone dined away, chatting with one another about things you sure none of them would remember the next day while nursing a hangover. You stayed close to Jiwon wherever he went, although the positive twist in the knife of fate hadn’t gone much further. You were both still quiet and distant despite the hands intertwining tightly. He had given you his portion of roasted veggies and you had given him your portion of fish as always. He gotten you your favorite wine while you made sure to save him a few donuts from the dessert bar. Just like that, the night went on without a hitch but you couldn’t discern if that was good or bad. 

Mindlessly, you spent the rest of the night dancing away with your friends and he with his. Even with the group of sweaty, drunken, swaying bodies blocking each other away, your eyes were on his and his was on yours. Neither of you could really kept your eyes off of each other, wishing it was the other’s body against your own but nerve and fear like a glass wall keeping you apart. Your 3rd glass of wine had beginning to creep on you now as your head spin slightly. Parting way with your friends, you settled on your seat as you watch Jiwon skillfully moved along with the beats. As expected of your idol boyfriend, he managed to captivate the whole room with the simplest moves. 

“Since tonight we gathered to celebrate the love and new beginning of the loveliest couple here this evening, I’d like to dedicate this next songs to all the other beautiful couples in the room. No matter if you’ve been together 1 day or 40 years, this next two song are for you so get on out here and share a moment of love.” 

The MC put a temporary halt on the festivity as you watch the sweaty body shuffled off the dance floor. One by one, couples sauntered hands in hands toward the pristine white floor embossed with the bride and groom’s name. They slowly swayed as the DJ ever so delicately let the toon of John McLaughlin’s So Close  permeated the atmosphere full of love and joy. You couldn’t help but cracked a smile at the bride’s grandparents, still so in love after nearly 60 years of welcoming dawn and bidding goodbye to dusk together. How lucky must one be to find that one person to love and to hold, to share every moments together and still they look at you with such adoration as if it’s the first day. Once again you shed tears without even knowing that your own love was watching, heart aching as he approached you with an outstretch arm.

“Can I have this next dance, miss?” He spoke so gently, so lovingly that your lips curved up and hand in his without needing your brain to tell them to. A slight sheen of sweet glistened on his forehead from the fun that had his heart beating fast for the past 10 minutes. Although now, now he was sure it wasn’t the hard dancing that had his heart racing at thousand miles a second. It was you. You were just sitting there, lovely as ever with those eyes that always seemed to only see him. No matter where you were, at iKon’s biggest concert, the busy street of a Friday date night, the airport. The place didn’t matter, the time didn’t matter. All it mattered was that the second he laid eyes on you, it seemed as though you were already, had been looking at him for quite some time. 

He pulled you close to his chest, a hand resting on the small of your back, the other wiping the few tear streaking down your cheeks. He pressed a big kiss to your forehead before resting his own on yours. Although your hands on his hips, it rested rather loosely, not at all what he wanted. He knew your mind was chasing itself to exhaustion with the decisions of what will become of the two of you once the clock struck midnight and this wonderful occasion end. When his beautiful suit shaded like midnight sky and your amazing soft blue chiffon dusting with blush pink blossoms bursting with spring gown were shed, you both knew a decision had to be made.

“We should really talk about this, you know. Dragging out the inevitable just going to hurt us more...” You heard him speak but you couldn’t really registered the fact that you were laying in the same bed that absorbed so much love all these years talking about a breakup.

“Yea... Can we talk about it after the wedding? We already RSVP. It’d be rude to just not show up or whatever seeing how close we are to them.” You whispered in a broken tone, heart feeling the stab of each word.

“Uhm... I’ll see you then. We’re going over lyrics this week so I won’t be home much.”

“Okay.”

Words that Jiwon of the beginning of the relationship never thought he’d hear was ringing out in the mind of present time Jiwon. He didn’t know about you but he had already decided. He decided the second he saw you that morning with your hair messy and awkwardly crimped from the strange position you slept in. Your bare face glowed so magnificently as you dashed back and forth looking for the pair of heels he had gotten you not too long ago. You were looking mighty cute in your Pooh printed PJ shorts and his giant black t-shirt whipping up breakfast knowing he hadn’t eat a scrap of food since lunch the day before. 

“Baby, you know I love you right?” He whispered so gingerly against the shell of your ear, hot breath tickling your skin with the most delightful sensation.

“I know... I love you too... So much.” You didn’t know why you felt the need to speak in such a depressing tone. Actually, you do know why. Whatever it is that was to come next couldn’t be good judging from the way he started this conversation. You could practically felt his heart pumping gallons of blood in seconds from the thumping of his chest.

“There are so many things I want to tell you. I-I’ve never felt so strongly about something as I do now. I wanted to say all this to you when we were at the ceremony but I decided it was best not to disturb the beautiful moment.” He chuckled slightly and you couldn’t help but let the confusion rising fast in your chest. “I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the heartfelt vows this morning but when I listened to those words being exchange, all I wanted to do was to pull you into my chest and kiss you till morning comes. I know, crappy cheesy right? You could cringe if you want to, I know I sound so gross right now.”

He laughed lightly again but you were serious. His smile dropped the second he met your doe eyes, lip under your teeth as if deciding on the biggest decision in human history. 

“Uhm, so... Now that I have you in my arms, I feel like I have the whole world under my control, everything is at peace.” He started out so nervously, voice cracking, breath erratic but with the flutters of his closing eyes, it was like a sudden sense of tranquil washed over him as his voice grew stable.  “I was in such a storm, baby. I didn’t know where was up and what was down but then when I walked into the apartment this morning. You were just dancing in the living room with the dog and I felt the weight of the universe lifted off my shoulders. How could something so simple captivated me in ways that even the most glamorous expensive things in the world can’t. The world just goes silent the second I’m with you.” He leaned in closer, resting his cheeks on your temple as his hand woven itself into your neatly curled locks. His free arm locked itself around your shoulder pressing you tight to his chest. You let yourself relished in the way he felt so warm against your bare skin, how he smelled like that expensive cologne you helped him picked out while vacationing in London. Yet at the same time something so him fought its way to the top, playing with your nose that was now beginning to pick up the sickening sweet scent of alcohol. 

“I love you so much and It scares me. What if one day you wake up and realize what a shitty boyfriend I am. What if one day someone better comes by and scoop you up in his arms. What if I lose you, what would I do? I was always a hopeless romance but as life get rough, love lost, I’ve long abandoned that hope of finding that permanent someone. Even after we’ve met, I was still doubting if happily ever after is really a thing. Then day by day you showed me that it’s possible if you just work for it.” 

His hand moved away from caressing your back to gingerly lifting your chin up to face him. He held that mysterious grin, that expression that had never quite been abled to decipher despite the 4 years of loving him. You barely managed to catch your breath when his lips unexpectedly found themselves on yours, caring for them so tenderly with the way he moved and how he seemed to fit you so perfectly. Suddenly the world dimmed out to black and white and you two were the only one bursting with colors. The other couples ceased to exist as yours and his soul were the only one flickering with each other on that dance floor and the music played for only you two. He broke away after a short while with a loving smile gracing your elated self.  

“You took my heart and so delicately brought it back to life with every kind words, every affectionate gesture. I couldn’t believe I didn’t see for so long that my happy end was just waiting here with you. We’re close, so close baby to making even if we got a long road to travel. I was so afraid to love again and you made it so painless to fall in love with you. I know what we have isn’t pretending or a trial. What we have is real and all I could think of is how far we’ve come. If you’re willing, I’d love for us to continue this crazy adventure of ours, to continue dreaming of a future that perhaps one day I’d have to honor of waiting for you at the end of the aisle. Would you like that, baby girl? Would you let me love you till the end of time?”

You were glad the music was now at its high point as it masked the ugly sound of you choking on your own tears. You tighten your slacken arms and Jiwon just grinned in satisfaction. Oh how he loved the way you held him. You always knew how to hold him. The soft embrace paired with gentle passing of your hand on his back after a bad event. The quiet encouraging words that came with the big hug that made him felt so small after a long stressful day where the whole world appeared to be against him. The way your arm sneaked up on his tone abs in the back hug of sleepy morning as you pressed kisses onto his back with a raspy “good morning, handsome.” You somehow managed to always curled up so neatly on top of his lap as you cling onto his body when he vented about his long hours of practice, finger gently massaging through his hair to help him relax. 

Right now, he was basking the way you were squeezing him with all your might, arms like a boa constricting across his torso. The way you couldn’t decide on where to rest your hands as you move them from the small of his back to his broad shoulder then resorting to just gently gliding them up and down his back. It was like you were making sure he know just how desperate you were to hold him and that was exactly what he needed. It’s honestly still amazed him after all these year the way you just seemingly catered to his needs even without him saying much or at all. He had poured his heart out to you, leaving himself completely vulnerable to rejection and to bitter words but you replied the best way you could with your loving gaze and tight embrace.

“You don’t have to say anything right now, baby. Take your time... Think about it. I know I haven’t been good to you in awhi-”

“No, I need to.” You suddenly blurted out with all the determination in the world. “I-I would love for nothing more than to be your girl for the rest of my life. I was so fearful that you were leaving me... We’ve grew so far away and I just want to know I can hold you, kiss you any time and anywhere.”

He was smiling so brightly, so much brighter than the strobe light above dancing along to the beat of the 2nd couple song of the night. Those eyes of his crinkled into those loving crescents and lips grinning wide from cheek to cheek. He pulled you into an ebullient sway along with the vibrant beat of Nat King Cole L.O.V.E. You let out a hearty laugh as you dipped you low into a big kiss, big cheers and applauds erupted all and your and your cheeks burst into a shade rivaled with the fuchsia petals nearby.  You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You could feel the envy emanating from the single gals surrounding the dance floor, waiting for couples paradise to be over with so they could get down and perhaps find a temporary mates. Although you knew if they had the chance, any one of them would nab up Jiwon so fast you wouldn’t even know what happened and never let him go. 

“The staring. You gotta stop staring. I’m just a guy, not a unicorn or something.”

His velvety voice shook you out of your reverie, realizing somehow you had managed to walk off the dance floor. The beat had returned to the bass filled one that had everyone’s adrenaline kicking.

“Wha- How? Wait...”

“You’re so cute, baby. After all this time, you still blush in front of me like you did that first night.”

“I can’t help it. I’m in love with the most breathtaking man in this country and he’s also super talented. Did I mention he’s also freaking handsome?” You gushed and now it was his turn to feel the creep of the spreading heat on his cheeks. He resorted to pulling you close to his chest, planting kisses, and simply taking his time to revel in the fact that you were and always wholeheartedly his. 

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jiwon. Can we go home? A cuddle seems good right about now.” You let your lips connected in a flurry of pure happiness. He nodded and with his arm around your shoulders, he escorted his lady into the night with the confident he had when he first declared his love to you.

“Now that I think about it, you’ve never gave me an answer for the offer to be on my next song. I’m still impress with how fast you spoke that night.” As always, his cheeky self could never stay calm for long before continue his never ending tease fest earning him a hard slap to the chest.

“Yea... I’m gonna have to pass. My rapping days are over considering I needed to retired for a certain bunny rapper to shine. I don’t wanna overshadow him, ya know.”

“I still can’t believe I get to love you. I am never ever letting you go. EVER.”

“You act like you got a choice there, dude. Pfts, as far as I’m concern, you’re stuck.” You jabbed at his side, eliciting that distinct chuckle only your bunny rapper could produce.

“I have something else to confess... You can’t be mad though.” 

“I won’t, promise. I spent too much time away from you already.” Concern once again washed over the serenity of your happiness. You halted your steps and he mirrored your action, one foot kicking back and forth in place as if deciding on which word would be best to speak up next.

“I told you I got a courage push from our friends’ vows... Uhm, I actually got the idea for our meeting from her. Are you mad? Please don’t be mad!” Your silent gotten the better of him. He jumped back in place, hands holding onto your arms as if you’d float off with the next gush of wind if he let go. You were honestly just befuddle as to what the hell he was talking about.

“Wha-What are you talking about, baby?” You cocked your eyebrow in perplexity over the strange confession.

“Ididn’trunoveryourfootbyaccident...itwastotallyonpurpose.” He screeched out in panic and you were just amused at how cute he was being. All you could do was heaved a heavy laugh, nearly bending over in ab pain over how sweet and endearing this whole situation was. Who would’ve thought your week of isolation would transpired into something so beautiful as the speech he whispered to you so intimately, into the lovable boy pouting in front of you under the pale moonlight. “baabe, don’t laugh at me. I’m sad.”

“A little faster and you might’ve finally surpass me in the rap game.” You grabbed his large hand in his, tugging him straight into your embrace as kisses rained down on the handsome face. “I know you did it on purpose, Bobby rapper of iKon, half the MOBB duo. I saw you starin’ at me that night. I was surprised you didn’t do something more dramatic.”

“Wait, you knew this whole time???!? NO! I thought I was being clever, why didn’t you say anything.” His mind was being blown as the cloud drifted across the inky sky.

“I thought you were cute, if you hadn’t, I might’ve accidentally spill coffee on you. I was just waiting for you to fess up to it.” You added with a wink, dragging him along to the car.

“I’m so glad I met you. We’re so cute together.”

He added with a content sigh as you both walked off into the distant hand in hand, heart beating as one, and souls elated ecstatic to once again be close.

[holdmycallsbabe]

Did anyone order a first person Ginny POV drabble/ficlet based on “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost? No? Take it anyways. 

Read it on AO3 - 

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13791006

The Path Forged 

There was always a set pattern in life that we are supposed to follow. I knew mine like the back of my hand. I was groomed in a home where the females were few and the males abundant. I fought wars over stolen biscuits and ratty jumpers. I always paled in comparison to my brothers even as the only daughter, the youngest. I was expected to be the pristine example of matronly behavior even as I watched my brothers pummel each other in the garden. I was to one day marry and tend to the children we’d have. I’d enjoy it or, so I’m told. I assessed a very different reality from my parents. My mum and dad were tired by the time I came around and who is to blame them. A life with so many children. Where does one find time for themselves? How does one retain who they are while constantly giving pieces of themselves away?  This was the life I saw up close as I grew. Where I watched my mum give so much that hardly any of her was left. My dad who spent day in and day out to support our family. Who would come home each day as the life trickled slowly of him. They maintained appearances for us children, of course. They’d never let it show that the sorrows of the world sat snuggly upon their shoulders. I saw through it though. I saw what this existence had done to them even if my brothers hadn’t. Mum and dad are still trying. They are even after we buried of our own. The pain created a rift between all of us that will heal but it took what little was left of my parents. Maybe if they’d kept some of themselves, they’d have had more to fall back on. Maybe if things had been different for them. If they’d been more selfish, I’d have not been born, but they’d still be whole.

A life like this, a life where I am weighted down, drowning in domesticity, isn’t a life at all. Not for me. I can’t stomach the thought of watching my children board the train as I turn home to do laundry and worry about them while they’re away. I’ve toyed with the idea of settling with who everyone expected. He was everything you could want. A protector. A savior. A man who’d worship the ground I flew over. We could spend our days conversing about our children over cups of lukewarm tea. I’d prepare his lunches before he headed out to risk his life over and over again for the sake of the world. My mum would delight in teaching me her recipes and how to take care of home. Maybe this could have been me handing back that piece of her that she so willing gave me long ago. I could do it for her, but I don’t want it. I find myself being selfish. I don’t want my being to boil down to the life I can create or give. I want to bring her happiness, meaning, but I can’t sacrifice this for her. I can’t.  

I could not chain him down anyway and he refused to break my wings. The support we offered one another was there before the first time our lips tentatively met. It will always be there but in less subtle ways but it’s a flower neither of us was willing to nurture. It’s better this way. Even at the cost of my mum’s re-broken heart.

I don’t know for sure when or where my path diverged so far off trail but the one less traveled is the road I walk now. I feel free when the wind whips by me as I score again. The cries of the crowd send chills up my spine. It’s here, in the midst of the game, that I know I’ve made the correct choices. Where I know I’ve become who I was meant to be. It’s here as I adorn the bright blue sky that I notice her again. The blonde of her hair, so pale it’s almost translucent. I admired her from a far even as we bonded and extended the hand of friendship to one another. A friendship I’ve held in the highest regard from the day the sorting hat was placed on to our heads. Her, whom I’ve defended with bruised and bleeding knuckles. She’s here, as she always is, smiling dreamily up at me. Reminding me of how feelings so often evolve. Even as a bludger soars closely by, I find myself replaying the one fantasy I’ve had of when her soft lips finally touch mine. When she finally runs her delicate hand through my hair and encircles my waist. A start to a life of adventure with her by my side. The restraints of the world unable to keep us stationary. A future.

A cry of victory breaks my reverie and I’m enclosed by the team as they thrust the winning snitch to the air. I lose sight of her momentarily but she’s there with a smile, waiting for me, as my feet touch the ground. It’s not the end of the path I’m taking. It’s only the beginning. Maybe I’ll find that nerve I’ve always possessed and show her what she truly means to me. Maybe my mum and dad will rebuild themselves from the ground up and I’ll be there to really offer them a sliver of myself as they’ve done for me. It’s not the trail that was paved for me, no, but it’s one I’ve made and that has made all the difference.