RotG: Wedding Blues [Cupcake/Jamie]
Wedding Blues
Cupcake/Jamie │ PG │ Romance │ 6 972 words
Hours before she’s due to wed, Cupcake finds herself dealing with a culmination of the doubt and uncertainty she’s been harbouring inside her for years. Fill for kink meme prompt.
Original Prompt: Cupcake/Jamie - Wedding I CANNOT BELIEVE that not a single person has even thought about shipping Cupcake and jamie together, so here's the deal
its been 10-15 years since the incident, and since then Cupss and jamie have gotten close. so close, they are actually getting married
i just want a fluffy marriage scene, maybe with jack frost making it snow as a gift.
Also posted to AO3 and FF.net.
For those who don’t know:
Caleb: Twin who wears the hat.
Claude: Twin with the spiky hair.
Monty: Boy with glasses.
Pippa: Pretty girl with hat.
Cupcake: If ya’ll don’t know who Cupcake is, you need to watch the movie again.
Cupcake has always had a bit of crush on Jamie Bennett. No one ever knew, not even Cupcake’s Mom, but she’s always found Jamie’s rabid interest in everything mythical endearing, if strange. He’d always stood out amongst their peers, though not in the bad way Cupcake had. He’d been friendly, confident, and Cupcake couldn’t keep herself from noticing the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s talking about Bigfoot or Santa Claus.
But when little Sophie tells her, giggling and excited, that Jamie may have the teensiest crush on her, Cupcake dismisses it. That’s silly. If there’s anyone Jamie likes it has to be Pippa; Pippa, with her shining hair and lovely laugh, Pippa who’s growing prettier and prettier every year.
When Caleb reveals to their little group that Jamie’s asked Pippa out, Cupcake’s the only one not surprised. Cupcake’s also the only one who doesn’t go along on the requisite spying trip. She doesn’t hear anything else about it, and the pair in question don’t act differently afterwards so she can only assume it didn’t work out. Jamie goes to Junior Prom with a girl Cupcake doesn’t know, but she doesn’t have time to worry about that because everyone’s busy comforting Claude when Caleb stops believing.
Jamie asks Cupcake to Senior Prom and Cupcake flatly tells him to stop fooling around. She thinks he might’ve been surprised by her abrupt answer but it doesn’t matter. She’s never been as gentle as Pippa or as big-hearted as Sophie. She’s the rowdiest in the group and everyone knows this, so really, Jamie shouldn’t have been surprised at all. Cupcake goes to Senior Prom with Monty as friends, since his girlfriend hates parties and Cupcake’s dad wants to see his little girl in the dress he’d bought especially for the occasion.
Sophie tells her that she’s being an idiot but they’re best friends and she’s heard it all before.
Pippa goes off to Princeton because she’s the smartest of them all, and when she comes back during break they find out she’s stopped believing, too. Jamie invites Cupcake to get a smoothie down at their local café, just the two of them. Cupcake agrees because she’s deathly afraid what happens to Pippa will happen to her, and because it’s the last time they’ll see each other before they both leave for college. The rest of their group crash the date halfway through and when they end up at their favourite lake Jack appears for the first time in nine years. He brings with him a blizzard that utterly ruins what little hope Cupcake had of getting a little more alone time with Jamie.
It’s a bittersweet reunion; it’s been so long since that magical night with the Guardians and everyone’s ecstatic to see their faith rewarded in the form of Jack’s visit, but Caleb and Pippa can’t see him anymore and call it a freak storm. They have a snowball fight which forces them to rush home and get warm and Cupcake doesn’t get to thank Jamie for the smoothie. To this day she tells anyone who asks that it had been the perfect first date.
Jamie asks her out officially on Christmas break the same year, right in front of their friends, and behind him 11-year old Sophie is making silent death threats with a fork so Cupcake goes against her better judgement and accepts.
In the blink of an eye it’s been seven years and Cupcake can hardly believe they lasted so long. One blink and here she is, sitting in one of the fanciest restaurants in New York city that the once-irresponsible twins own, wondering when in the great scheme of things had down-to-earth Pippa gotten that French beau of hers, when had her little Sophie grown old enough to understand their dirtier jokes and dear God, when had timid Monty gotten a child?
She suspects it’s that last thing that has Jamie insisting they attend the restaurant’s Christmas Eve party and she knows she’s not imagining the way Jamie keeps fidgeting the whole night, hand almost unconsciously brushing the pocket of his dinner jacket every other minute. She notices the secretive grins Claude and Monty exchange, she’s already guessed why Caleb forced her into this stupid blue dress for the party and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that their table’s positioning in the very centre of the restaurant is deliberate. She’s not as smart as Pippa, nor as intuitive as Sophie, but it’s been exactly seven years and none of her friends or Jamie are good at playing subtle.
Cupcake knows what’s going on when Jamie suddenly rises from his seat, wine glass in hand as he clears his throat. She knows what’s about to happen when he dedicates a toast to everyone for being there to witness what he’s about to do, and looks her dead in the eyes. She’s not startled when he takes her hand or when he gets down to one knee.
Then he says: “Will you marry me?”
She’d known he was about to propose but it still catches her off guard. There are expectant faces around her, and a warm feeling in her stomach, and Jamie’s eyes are sparkling in a way she’s never been able to ignore. Cupcake doesn’t think twice about saying yes and blushes when the entire room begins clapping. It’s a shock, a terrible yet wonderful shock, and she remembers this is how it feels like the very first time a snowball hits her in the face.
Monty’s wife isn’t one for parties so their ‘wedding’ consists of legalising their marriage at the registry office the day after Monty proposes. Cupcake and Jamie decide to have theirs in November because they both want the Guardians to have the opportunity to attend, otherwise it wouldn’t feel complete. Monty and the twins fight over who gets to be best man until Jack butts in and declares the position his. (The ones aware of this opt to call him the Phantom Best Man, and Claude gets to stand in after winning rock, paper and scissors.) Pippa and Sophie compromise so Sophie gets maid of honour while Pippa gets to plan everything. Cupcake washes her hands on it all because it’s really not her area and she’s more than happy to let her friends and family deal with the details.
Perhaps that’s why she finds herself hours before the wedding, hiding out on the balcony of an empty room trying not to hyperventilate as she wrestles with the veil Pippa forced her to put on.
“What am I doing?” she moans to herself, and tosses the flimsy transparent thing over her head. She tugs irritably at the hem of her gown, which is traditionally white, terrifyingly lacy, and comes with a detachable train so long she thinks it looks ridiculous.
It’s her Mom’s idea, though, and Cupcake doesn’t have the heart to say no.
That doesn’t stop her from seriously considering whether to ditch it and just wear her favourite pink if old dress that she’d worn to the only Prom she’d ever attended. Maybe she should ditch the wedding altogether.
“Dammit, Cupcake,” she mutters, and finally gives up. She plops onto one of the chairs set out on the balcony and covers her face with her hands.
Their families had rented an entire building for the occasion, setting up the back garden for the ceremony and having the reception inside. Guests are already beginning to arrive and she can hear the sound of workers scurrying around to ensure everything is prepared. Cupcake’s mostly finished dressing and through Sophie she learns that Jamie is already outside, greeting the early birds. She’s going to be married in three hours and all she can think about is the fact that she is not ready for this.
“Should’ve thought about that before you got into the dress, huh?” she says sardonically.
She lifts her head to stare at the view. The scenery of Burgess in November looks back at her. It goes unspoken that the wedding will be held in their little hometown and right now Cupcake’s especially glad for it. She knows the forest of Burgess like the back of her hand; if she really does want to escape, she can get away before anyone notices.
She curses herself. “Stop it,” she stays sternly, glaring at her bare feet. “Stop thinking like that. What would everyone say?”
“With you talking to yourself like that, they’d think you’re nuts.”
Cupcake utters a little shriek and jumps to her feet (nearly tripping in the process because of the goddamn hem), looking around wildly with her fists at the ready. There’s a cold breeze and then Jack descends from above her head. He settles on the balcony with a light bounce and sets his staff across his knees, grinning cockily at her. Cupcake relaxes.
“Jack,” she says with an exasperated shake of her head. “You scared me, coming out of nowhere like that.”
Jack shrugs. “Sorry, was just glad to find you here,” he explains. “Thought for a second there we had a runaway bride.”
She blinks at him. Jack quirks an eyebrow back.
“This isn’t your room, right?” he says, gesturing with his staff at the doors of the balcony, which she’s closed tight and pulled the blinds over so no one will see her out here.
Cupcake coughs, embarrassed. “No, it isn’t. Mine’s the floor below on the other side.”
“Huh.” Jack tilts his head at her. “Something wrong with the balcony over there?”
“No-no. I just…the view’s better. Here, I mean. And I needed some air. There were too many people in my room so I came here to cool off.”
“Is that right,” says Jack, sounding amused. “And you happened to forget to tell your mom or anyone where you were going? You know they’re all going crazy in there. They can’t find you anywhere and some of them think you might’ve run off.”
Cupcake thinks she’s about to hyperventilate again but gets herself under control. She sags back onto the chair.
“I know, I know,” she groans and rubs her eyes. She looks up when Jack chortles.
“You look awful,” he tells her plainly, and she guesses that she must’ve messed up Sophie’s painstakingly applied make up.
Cupcake snorts. “I bet,” she says disparagingly, gesturing sharply at the dress.
“Oh, come on, I’m not talking ‘bout that,” says Jack and flaps his hand at her. “Show it to me, haven’t looked at you properly.”
Cupcake hesitates for a moment but obliges him by standing up so he can see the entire wedding ensemble. He makes a twirling motion with a finger, smirking, and with a distinct grumble she does a full turn.
“It’s not too bad,” Jack says once she’s sitting down again. “But what’s that thing on your head?”
“This?” Cupcake points to the veil. “It’s called a veil. It’s supposed to cover my face until it’s time to kiss the bride.”
The expression on Jack’s face shows he thinks as highly about it as she does-which is to say, he thinks it’s useless.
“You don’t look too happy in it,” is what he says.
“I think it’s a piece of crap,” is the vehement reply, and Cupcake rips the headband holding the veil together off her head. She has no doubt she’s undone half of the work her Mom and Pippa had put into styling her unruly locks but at the moment, she really couldn’t care less.
Jack doesn’t say anything about the veil or the state of her hair. The way he watches her is kind and she wonders if he already knows the answer to what he asks next.
“So, care to tell me why you decided to sneak out of your room and make everyone run around like chickens without their heads in there?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” says Cupcake sullenly.
“Didn’t say ya did, Cups.”
Cupcake’s lips twitch at the endearment. “I told you, I needed some air. There were too many people fussing in my room so I just…wanted to get away for a bit.”
“Without telling anyone?”
“I wouldn’t have been able to leave if I did tell someone.”
“No way,” says Jack. “Sophie would’ve snuck you out herself if you asked for space.”
Cupcake chews on her lip. She stands and walks over to the balustrade, leaning beside Jack as she wrings her hands.
“I just couldn’t stand it anymore,” she admits softly. “Everyone was talking about the details and how things were supposed to go and everything-I needed to get away from it for a bit. Just to…just to catch my breath.”
Jack hums. “Second thoughts, huh?”
The feeling that assaults her chest makes Cupcake think she’s about to have a heart attack. She tenses, hoping it’s not obvious, but when she glances over Jack’s giving her a small, knowing smile.
“It’s not a big deal,” he offers. “Tooth told me it was normal for people to feel that way, since you’re about to officially commit yourself and all.”
It takes Cupcake a few seconds to gather herself. “It is pretty normal,” she manages to say, hands clasping together tightly.
“But from what I hear,” Jack continues unexpectedly, “Brides are supposed to be giddy on their wedding day. It’s pretty rare for one to hide somewhere hours before she’s gonna get married unless she’s got serious reservations.”
Cupcake’s fingers dig into her palms. Jack nudges her lightly.
“So,” he prompts. “What’s really bothering you?”
For a moment, Cupcake wants him to disappear. She’s frazzled enough as it is; she’s doubted her decision ever since Jamie proposed and the only thing she wants to do right now is fly back to her apartment in California and pretend none of this exists. She’s actually thinking about bailing on her own wedding, for goodness’ sake. The last thing she needs is Jack Frost’s incessant prodding about feelings that’s causing all this stress in the first place!
Then she realises keeping it all inside isn’t an option anymore and now all she wants to do is cry.
Cupcake sags against stone and presses the heels of her palms against her eyes until colours burst in the darkness. “What am I doing here?” she mumbles in a hoarse voice.
“Whoa, hey, are you-are you crying?” says Jack, and it’s actually comical how alarmed he sounds but Cupcake doesn’t feel like laughing. “Oh, man, don’t cry, Cupcake. I’m not good at this stuff.”
“I’m not crying. I just feel like breaking something.”
“You can break the chair. I promise I won’t tell.”
This does make Cupcake laugh and she raises her head back up, blinking rapidly to clear her sight. Her palms are smudged with colours. Jack grimaces when she looks at him.
“Yikes,” he says, “better make sure someone gets your make-up fixed before you go out in public.”
“I’d rather just wash it all off.”
“You do look kinda weird without your freckles,” Jack agrees, which surprises her. “You okay?”
“Not really,” says Cupcake honestly, because she’s sick of lying. “What am I doing here, Jack? Seriously?”
Jack looks at her with an unsure expression and he’s gentle when he speaks. “You’re here to get married.”
Cupcake shakes her head, the sound of that last word shooting through her chest like a needle. “I want to marry Jamie, you know? I do, I really do.” She swallows. “That’s never been the problem.”
“What is the problem?”
Cupcake looks at Jack again, wondering if it’s a good idea to voice what’s been plaguing her since it all began. Then again, she truly doesn’t think she can hold it in any longer.
“I don’t know if we’re making a big mistake,” she says quietly.
Jack looks surprised. “A mistake? What, you mean about getting married?”
Cupcake shrugs. “Getting married, staying together, being together,” she lists out with little care for the difference. “Marriage’s the final act, isn’t it? Who’s to say we’re not making the biggest mistake of our lives doing this?”
“You’ve been together for seven years, Cups. I think you’d know by now if you’re making a mistake marrying Jamie.”
Cupcake feels her stomach contract with renewed anxiety. “But the problem is you can’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t actually know if you’re making a mistake with something like this,” Cupcake repeats, staring at Jack with eyes that don’t really see him. “Just because you get married doesn’t mean you’d stay together, does it? You can still change your mind. Even if we bind ourselves together for eternity doesn’t mean it won’t turn out to be a mistake. Who knows if things won’t be different in the future? You can’t predict something like that. People could be together for ten, twenty years and they still end up separating. They could say their vows, and actually mean it; they could love that other person right now but that’s not a sure thing to last, right? How can I be sure Jamie won’t change his mind?”
It’s only when she sees Jack’s vivid blue eyes go wide does she realise what she’s spouted. She turns away, biting her lip hard and clenching her fingers.
“Is that what this is about?” says Jack after a second. “You’re worried Jamie might leave you one day?”
Cupcake sighs. “My dad left my mom when I was six,” she confesses. “They were high school sweethearts. They’d been married for over ten years before they had me. But one day he came to me and said he didn’t love Mom anymore, and that they couldn’t stay together. So he left. I…I never even noticed they had any problems. I thought they were happy.”
She rubs her face tiredly. “You know,” she begins conversationally. “It would’ve been so much easier if Jamie never asked me out. I could’ve gotten over whatever crush I had. I even managed to ignore all the girls he went out with, and I said no when he asked me to senior Prom.”
“Senior Prom?” Jack repeats in confusion.
“It’s a school dance in your last year of high school. A lot of people see it as a big deal but it was just a big waste of time. I went with Monty.”
“Why didn’t you go with Jamie?”
Cupcake turns back at him. “Because,” she says and pauses. “I was the last girl in the group who believed in you, since he and Pippa didn’t work out and Sophie is his sister. I didn’t want to feel like he was asking me just because I was the only choice he had left.”
Jack frowns but before he can say anything, Cupcake continues.
“Someone like Pippa would fit Jamie,” she muses. “That’s the kind of person he needs, someone stable and pretty, someone who makes him look good. I should’ve said no when he asked me out. If I did, then he could’ve found somebody who actually fits him. And I could’ve moved on. I wouldn’t have to going through this right now, feeling like I’m going to ruin his life or something. The two of us could’ve gone our separate ways and we’d be happy, and I wouldn’t feel like I’d be miserable the rest of my life if I loo-”
She cuts herself off there, knowing she’s making herself look pathetic with the amount of nonsense she’s spouting. She glances at Jack and sighs again.
“Sorry,” she mutters, ruffling her hair even more. “It’s just…don’t you think he should find someone…I don’t know, better or something?”
“Better?” says Jack, and he sounds incredulous. “Define better.”
Cupcake shifts uncomfortably. “Look, the truth is I don’t think I can do this if it’s going to end up the way my parents did. I don’t want to be the girl who wasted her life staying with someone who’s going to change his mind.”
“You think Jamie’s that kind of person?”
“I-no, I don’t, but I don’t want him to stay with me because he feels like he has to either. I just-I’m not asking for much, okay? If it works out well, that’d be great, but how do I know it will? We’ve been together seven years but he can still find someone else. I can just stop this whole thing right now before it’s too late.”
“And what, leave him waiting at the altar?”
Cupcake says, maybe a little bitterly, “Better now than ten years down the road with a kid in the picture.”
The frustration is back but worse, eating at her insides in giant chomps. She’s not the kind of girl who thinks about things like this. She’s always been confident, straightforward and decisive. It’s infuriating to argue back and forth with herself, she doesn’t like wishing she could vanish somewhere to avoid dealing with all this, and she hates being so unsure about the feelings of a man she’s been in love with for more than half her life. It’s not that she isn’t aware of how brittle her issues are, or how badly-timed it is for them to reach their peak, but they’re all squished inside her head and she’s about to explode. She wants to scream, she wants to cry. She wants to go so Jamie will have a chance of finding someone who actually deserves him.
She wants to marry Jamie.
“What should I do, Jack?” she whispers. “I don’t know anymore.”
Jack is silent for much longer than she can ever remember him being. When he does eventually speak, what he says catches her off guard.
“You know, when I first met you, you were really scary,” he states.
Cupcake blinks at him, frustration temporarily overshadowed by bewilderment. “Okay,” she says slowly.
“No, really, you were the scariest little girl I’d ever met,” Jack insists. “You were bigger than any other kid in the park and I really thought that you could crush Jamie if you stepped on him.”
Cupcake winces. Jack smiles.
“But you were also one of the easiest people for me to inspire,” he says cheerfully.
Cupcake blinks. “What?” she says blankly.
Jack taps his staff against the balustrade he’s perched on and intricate patterns of ice snake over the stone. Although she expects it, Cupcake still has to jerk her hands away when the cold bites at her skin. Jack runs a finger down the crystalline sheet before closing his fist over it, catching something that Cupcake can’t see. When he opens it, a snowflake drifts up into the air.
“I can help people have fun,” Jack explains. “One shot of this and you’d be laughing within the minute. My magic helps bring out the part of you that wants to do something you love, the part that knows how to enjoy life. It’s one reason why I’m a Guardian. I help people experience the little things that make your day.”
Cupcake watches in wonder as the snowflake, now the size of her hand, dances in the light breeze Jack summons. It looks like it’s carved out of glass, delicate and ready to shatter but beautiful nonetheless.
“This thing makes people have fun?” she asks, reaching out to touch it but it dances away from her fingers.
“Well, this, a well-aimed snowball, a wet willy when times call for desperate measures,” says Jack nonchalantly, and grins when Cupcake stifles a giggle. “But I can’t actually make people have fun. I can only…nudge things along, y’know?”
She shakes her head wordlessly.
“It’s like I said. I can help you feel like you want to have fun. This-” Jack twists his wrist and the breeze picks up, tossing the snowflake high.
Suddenly it bursts and sparkling powder float down over them. Cupcake opens her hands and when the mini snowflakes land on her skin, she feels a vague sense of delight rise within her, warm and familiar. Jack’s smile widens.
“This helps remind you how happy you are when you’re having fun,” he says. “It doesn’t make you feel it, and it doesn’t convince you to. It just sends a signal to your brain. But the choice to continue feeling that is yours. I could hit you with a thousand of these but they won’t work unless you want to accept them. It’s up to you, see?”
Cupcake looks at him, understanding flooding her at the same time a faded memory flitters across her mind. “You’re the one who threw that snowball at me,” she realises.
Jack catches on instantly and coughs, his expression sheepish. “Some people have to get hit a few times,” he offers. “And sometimes it just doesn’t work because they don’t want to stop feeling angry or sad or whatever’s more important to them than having fun. But you embraced it right away. I was pretty amazed.”
Cupcake gazes at him with some awe. “But what does that have to do anything?” she finally asks.
Jack shrugs. “I’m just telling you about my first impression of you,” he replies. “I mean, I was seriously impressed. And you hit it off straight away with Jamie and the others. I guess I’m glad I did get you with that snowball. You made some good friends that day, didn’t you?”
Cupcake can only nod, truly at a loss as to where this is going.
“Hey,” says Jack, crossing his legs, “do you regret it?”
“Regret what?”
“Making friends with them.”
“No way,” says Cupcake, surprised. “Regret it? That’s impossible. They…all of you, all of you changed my life. Who knows where I’d be if that day didn’t happen?”
“Not here, I can tell you that,” he tells her gently.
Cupcake looks at him.
“You know, did you ever wonder where Jamie or any of the others would be if that day didn’t happen for them either?” Jack asks her. He doesn’t let her answer. “Don’t say it wouldn’t have made a difference, Cups. Every one person makes an impact somehow. You stuck with these kids for years. They changed you, but you changed them too, ever thought of that? You made friends with Sophie even though she’s years younger than you. You helped Pippa figure out if she wanted to go that Prince college. You helped out with the twins’ restaurant. You promised Monty you’d pound anyone who tried bullying his kid. You said yes when Jamie asked you out.”
Cupcake opens her mouth but it’s a moment before the words come out. “That’s not much.”
Jack grins. “Oh?” he says, with a lilt to his voice. “So you’re saying that him asking you out didn’t make a difference in your life?”
Cupcake’s about to say no, vehemently, but then it dawns on her that it’s her wedding day. It didn’t just suddenly happen; this is an important occasion borne from a slew of others, something that could make or break the rest of her life. If Jamie hadn’t asked her out seven years ago, she might be somewhere else far, far away, probably alone, probably unhappy. But she is here, she’s getting married today and none of this would’ve happened if things didn’t go the way they did since the first time she notices that sparkle in Jamie’s eyes.
It’s with the sensation of having an epiphany that she understands what Jack really means when he said she wouldn’t be here if that special day in her past had never been.
“I don’t know what happened with your parents,” says Jack, “but I do know that there’s no way you would be standing here if you didn’t choose it. You’ve been together with Jamie for seven years, Cups, because you chose to stay with him for seven years. It’s not like you two hopscotched twice and swore never to part. You had to go through a lot, didn’t you? You can’t tell me you had a prim perfect record with each other. You fought, and broke up, and got back together, then you pressed replay, and despite all that you’re still here. When he asked to marry you, you said yes ‘cause you wanted to. And I can say that everything you do from now on will lead to whatever’s going to happen in that future you’re so worried about.
“Look, I can’t promise you that it’s gonna be fine, or that you’re gonna be together forever.” Jack pulls a disgusted face as though the cheesiness is finally getting to him. “It’s up to you how that’ll turn out in the end.”
Cupcake swallows past a dry throat. “It’s not just up to me, though,” she can’t help but say.
Jack shrugs. “Yeah, but your other half is up there in his room going through panic attacks in front of the mirror so I don’t think he’s quite up to making any other major decisions right now.”
A spike of dread goes through Cupcake’s chest. She’s such an idiot for not considering it. She’s been here for over an hour contemplating whether to flee; it’s perfectly possible that Jamie is thinking the very same thing. In fact, it’s very likely that she’ll be the one left standing at the altar alone. Jamie might already be gone for all that she knows, not that she’d blame him for it.
The thought is almost physically painful, though.
“He’s having second thoughts?” she makes out.
“He’s too busy being nervous over all the ways he can mess things up,” Jack informs her cheerfully. “Monty-boy made sure no one told him you went missing. He’d just go crazy. You know what he’s like. It’s graduation day all over again, but times ten.”
And somehow that calms Cupcake like no other reassurance would’ve. She remembers how antsy Jamie had been on his graduation day. It’s not a stretch to imagine how he’s acting now, and it’s nothing particularly serious. When his name was called, Jamie had stopped fidgeting and walked onto the stage with all the resolution Cupcake can remember him radiating when he stood up to the Boogeyman at ten years old. She’d never been prouder.
She laughs faintly. “That’s…great,” she says.
Jack’s expression softens visibly when she looks at him again.
“I kind of get how you’re feeling,” he admits, rubbing the back of his head and staring at the ground with uncharacteristic shyness. “You can’t really tell if the other person is in it as deep as you are, and it’s scary to think that they might not because then you’re left hanging. If you’re going to give yourself, you want it to be for good and for real. You want so much for it to last because you’re in love. You can’t imagine it being anyone else and, to be honest, there’s no turning back anymore. There is no one else for you because no matter what you’re worried about, he’s the one you’ll always choose.”
Cupcake watches Jack, the faraway look in his eyes, and thinks that he’s spot on.
“I’m worried even marriage won’t help me keep him,” she finally finds the courage to confess, “since it didn’t work for my parents.”
“From what I’ve seen, it’s not the marriage that keeps people together.”
At those words Cupcake lets out a long exhale, and feels all her doubt rush out with it. She feels a lot lighter now.
Jack turns to her and smiles. “Trust me, Cups. He’s panicking up there for a reason, just like you’re here. There’s no way to figure out how he’ll feel ten years from now but chances are it’s not going to change. It won’t change for you, will it?”
“No,” Cupcake agrees, the responding smile blooming on her lips far more genuine than it has been for days. “It never will.”
Jack reaches over and flicks her nose. “You’re all brats,” he says, shaking his head. “Making me ruin my cool image just to make you feel better.”
Cupcake outright grins. She tosses her head back and squares her shoulders. “Well,” she says, and takes a step away from the balustrade, spreading her arms wide. “How do I look?”
“Like a clown,” Jack states seriously and quickly dodges her punch with a light hop into the air as he laughs gaily.
Cupcake rubs at her nose, remembering the feel of snowflakes on her skin. “I guess I should go back in,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at the balcony doors still wedged shut.
“That might be a good idea,” Jack confirms, landing back on the balustrade in a crouch, “unless you want to stay out here a bit longer.”
Cupcake searches inside herself but the anxiety is gone. Her heart is calmer than it’s been for as long as she can remember. The thought of marriage, while still making it beat twice as fast, doesn’t induce painful twisting emotions anymore. She doesn’t know if Jamie will leave her one day but for now, she doesn’t doubt that he loves her as much as she loves him.
“Time to face the music,” she says to Jack, who laughs again. She smiles and turns, ready to make her way back inside. She raises a hand to touch the veil on her head and wonders if she should pull it back over her face to hide the worst of the damage she’s dealt to everyone’s hard work.
“Hey, wait, I just remembered something.”
She turns back, quirking a curious eyebrow, and watches as Jack straightens on the slab of stone-his extraordinary sense of balance never fails to astonish her. Pursing his lips, he whistles clear and low. She looks around, waiting, but then Jack distracts her by jumping down and striding forward.
“Hey!” Cupcake yelps, when Jack tugs the veil off her head without a care for what it does to her hair.
She makes a grab for it but Jack merely tosses it over his shoulder and it disappears off the balcony. Cupcake’s jaw drops, sheer outrage rendering her speechless.
Jack gives her an unapologetic grin before looking up. Cupcake follows his gaze when she hears the fast beat of little wings and blinks in surprise when something tiny and colourful whizzes past the roof and into view. It takes her a moment to recognise the bird as one of the Tooth Fairy collectors. It’s carrying something much larger than its little body but light enough that it has no problem darting towards Jack at the speed of a bullet.
“Thanks, Baby Tooth,” says Jack when it perches on his shoulder. “Wasn’t sure you knew it was me.”
The hummingbird-like creature twitters excitedly at him, grinning. In wonder, Cupcake peers closely at it and what it’s holding in its tiny hands. It’s a crown of flowers; tiny white blooms woven delicately and skilfully around twining green roots. The plants themselves are exquisite and they look as if they’ll be crushed if held with particular force. She doesn’t recognise them but that doesn’t stop her from admiring their beauty. It’s the first time she’s ever seen a real crown of flowers, much less one as magnificent as this.
Cupcake flinches in shock when Jack takes the circular object and, without further ado, sets it upon her head. She stares at him with wide eyes even as he nods to himself in satisfaction.
“I forgot why I was looking for you when Sophie told me you were missing,” he explains. “See, this is way better than that flimsy sheet thing.”
Cupcake touches the wreath carefully. The flowers are smooth and cool to her skin.
“I can’t wear this,” she says uncertainly.
“You have to,” Jack tells her. “Bunny’ll be really disappointed if you don’t. He’ll think you don’t like his wedding gift.”
“It’s from the Easter Bunny?” Cupcake says in disbelief. “I-but I can’t accept this.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“Like-no, I love it, it’s beautiful!”
Jack grins smugly. “Good, the ol’ Kangaroo worked really hard on it. He even asked me to give it to you because he was too shy to give it himself.”
Cupcake hesitates. She’s not sure why but the veil had felt oddly heavy when she had it on. The crown weighs as much as a feather on her head yet it feels right for some reason.
“It doesn’t look weird on me, does it?” she asks tentatively.
Jack smiles and reaches up to adjust it. “Perfect,” he announces after a second. “Right, Baby Tooth?”
The little bird coos agreeably.
“If you say so,” says Cupcake, doubtful.
Jack swipes a thumb over her cheek. It comes away smeared with foundation.
“That’s one freckle,” he says with fake solemnity. “A bit more and I might actually recognise you.”
Cupcake snorts. “You’re right,” she says, “I think I’m just going to wipe it all off.”
“That’s my girl.” Jack seizes her shoulders and turns her around. “Now get lost already. Go find Sophie or whoever. Someone needs to do major damage control to your face.”
Cupcake goes with a delighted laugh. At the door, Jack’s voice stops her again. She looks back to see him gazing at her with a cherishing smile she’s only ever seen directed at Jamie.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Cups,” says Jack, “You said so yourself, it’s not up to just you. Jamie made half the choice and he did that for a reason.”
Cupcake smiles. “Thank you, Jack,” she tells him.
He salutes her and then makes a shooing motion with his hands. Baby Tooth chirps brightly and copies him. Cupcake goes.
Sophie is the first one to find her. She starts shrieking over the state of Cupcake’s makeup and hair but abruptly stops when she sees the crown of flowers. She knows instantly who made it, and when Cupcake tells her she won’t wear the veil, the detachable train or any makeup Sophie doesn’t argue. Pippa takes a little more convincing, and Cupcake’s Mom a lot, but they make it work within the hour. Cupcake doesn’t know what she was so worried about, because she’s never seen her mother look so proud.
Everyone is relieved when she finally appears downstairs. Her Dad takes her arm and kisses her forehead. She soaks in the warmth of his smile and lets him lead her toward the gardens where her groom is waiting. When she reaches it, she looks up the aisle and meets Jamie’s gaze.
She hardly remembers anything else. Jamie is all she sees. He’s standing tall, straight-backed, and his expression as he stares at Cupcake is so full of love she has to consciously refrain from smacking herself; how could she have ever doubted that he felt any less for her than she did for him?
She does spot Jack in his position beside Jamie, making faces at the little kids in the guest stands. The children are giggling and squealing, waving back at him, and their baffled parents are valiantly trying to hush them. Jack catches Cupcake’s eye and winks.
When Cupcake reaches the platform, Jamie takes her hand and doesn’t release it even when she takes her place. The ceremony passes in some kind of blur. She doesn’t even know how long it takes to reach the “I dos”, and she can’t recall anything from the environment around her because she’s too busy basking in the grip of Jamie’s hand, how he’s clutching her like he won’t ever let go, and how he hasn’t looked anywhere else since he first caught sight of her.
Things stall, though, when they realise it’s time to kiss the bride. Cupcake’s suddenly reminded there are people surrounding the little platform, eyes intent upon them, waiting with bated breath and ready cameras for that special moment. Jamie looks like a deer caught in the headlights and his cheeks are cherry red. Cupcake shares his embarrassment; she’s not sure how she’s supposed to handle kissing him in front of all these people. She’s blushing so badly she’s sure Jamie can sense the heat.
That’s when the snow begins to fall.
Cupcake’s gaze snaps instantly to the tiny snowflakes that blow gently over her. Jamie looks as surprised as she feels, and they both glance over at the Phantom Best Man. Except he’s not there. Claude catches their looks with an alarmed one of his own and jabs his finger upwards.
They don’t manage to see Jack though, because there’s joyous laughter from above before a blizzard besets them all. Jamie pulls Cupcake close as snow comes down like heavy rain, whipping through the gardens and covering everything in white. They can hear the alarmed cries of the guests but the kids are shrieking in exuberance instead of fear because they’re able to see who’s causing this. Cupcake hears, too, a distinctive Australian-accented voice bellowing Winter’s name.
Then Jack’s voice sings through the wind, calling: “Well, you gonna kiss the bride or not, kiddo?”
“Wait-” says Jamie, face brightening with realisation.
Cupcake realises that everything around her is white and she can’t see anyone. And that means no one can see her.
“Troublemaker,” Jamie huffs, but his tone is unmistakably fond. “So this is what he meant when he said he had something special planned for us during the ceremony.”
Cupcake stares at him in consternation and then shakes her head, helplessly amused.
“I’m so glad I’m marrying you,” she tells him, and means every word.
Jamie grins at her as he wraps his arms around her waist.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he says, right before he finally kisses her. When she starts laughing in sheer delight, he joins in.
Once the blizzard subsides, Jamie leads her back down the snow-powdered aisle and all Cupcake can think of is how dearly she loves the way his eyes are sparkling, because she knows they only do that when Jamie is overwhelmingly, truly happy.
END
Cupcake/Jamie │ PG │ Romance │ 6 972 words
Hours before she’s due to wed, Cupcake finds herself dealing with a culmination of the doubt and uncertainty she’s been harbouring inside her for years. Fill for kink meme prompt.
Original Prompt: Cupcake/Jamie - Wedding I CANNOT BELIEVE that not a single person has even thought about shipping Cupcake and jamie together, so here's the deal
its been 10-15 years since the incident, and since then Cupss and jamie have gotten close. so close, they are actually getting married
i just want a fluffy marriage scene, maybe with jack frost making it snow as a gift.
Also posted to AO3 and FF.net.
For those who don’t know:
Caleb: Twin who wears the hat.
Claude: Twin with the spiky hair.
Monty: Boy with glasses.
Pippa: Pretty girl with hat.
Cupcake: If ya’ll don’t know who Cupcake is, you need to watch the movie again.
Cupcake has always had a bit of crush on Jamie Bennett. No one ever knew, not even Cupcake’s Mom, but she’s always found Jamie’s rabid interest in everything mythical endearing, if strange. He’d always stood out amongst their peers, though not in the bad way Cupcake had. He’d been friendly, confident, and Cupcake couldn’t keep herself from noticing the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s talking about Bigfoot or Santa Claus.
But when little Sophie tells her, giggling and excited, that Jamie may have the teensiest crush on her, Cupcake dismisses it. That’s silly. If there’s anyone Jamie likes it has to be Pippa; Pippa, with her shining hair and lovely laugh, Pippa who’s growing prettier and prettier every year.
When Caleb reveals to their little group that Jamie’s asked Pippa out, Cupcake’s the only one not surprised. Cupcake’s also the only one who doesn’t go along on the requisite spying trip. She doesn’t hear anything else about it, and the pair in question don’t act differently afterwards so she can only assume it didn’t work out. Jamie goes to Junior Prom with a girl Cupcake doesn’t know, but she doesn’t have time to worry about that because everyone’s busy comforting Claude when Caleb stops believing.
Jamie asks Cupcake to Senior Prom and Cupcake flatly tells him to stop fooling around. She thinks he might’ve been surprised by her abrupt answer but it doesn’t matter. She’s never been as gentle as Pippa or as big-hearted as Sophie. She’s the rowdiest in the group and everyone knows this, so really, Jamie shouldn’t have been surprised at all. Cupcake goes to Senior Prom with Monty as friends, since his girlfriend hates parties and Cupcake’s dad wants to see his little girl in the dress he’d bought especially for the occasion.
Sophie tells her that she’s being an idiot but they’re best friends and she’s heard it all before.
Pippa goes off to Princeton because she’s the smartest of them all, and when she comes back during break they find out she’s stopped believing, too. Jamie invites Cupcake to get a smoothie down at their local café, just the two of them. Cupcake agrees because she’s deathly afraid what happens to Pippa will happen to her, and because it’s the last time they’ll see each other before they both leave for college. The rest of their group crash the date halfway through and when they end up at their favourite lake Jack appears for the first time in nine years. He brings with him a blizzard that utterly ruins what little hope Cupcake had of getting a little more alone time with Jamie.
It’s a bittersweet reunion; it’s been so long since that magical night with the Guardians and everyone’s ecstatic to see their faith rewarded in the form of Jack’s visit, but Caleb and Pippa can’t see him anymore and call it a freak storm. They have a snowball fight which forces them to rush home and get warm and Cupcake doesn’t get to thank Jamie for the smoothie. To this day she tells anyone who asks that it had been the perfect first date.
Jamie asks her out officially on Christmas break the same year, right in front of their friends, and behind him 11-year old Sophie is making silent death threats with a fork so Cupcake goes against her better judgement and accepts.
In the blink of an eye it’s been seven years and Cupcake can hardly believe they lasted so long. One blink and here she is, sitting in one of the fanciest restaurants in New York city that the once-irresponsible twins own, wondering when in the great scheme of things had down-to-earth Pippa gotten that French beau of hers, when had her little Sophie grown old enough to understand their dirtier jokes and dear God, when had timid Monty gotten a child?
She suspects it’s that last thing that has Jamie insisting they attend the restaurant’s Christmas Eve party and she knows she’s not imagining the way Jamie keeps fidgeting the whole night, hand almost unconsciously brushing the pocket of his dinner jacket every other minute. She notices the secretive grins Claude and Monty exchange, she’s already guessed why Caleb forced her into this stupid blue dress for the party and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that their table’s positioning in the very centre of the restaurant is deliberate. She’s not as smart as Pippa, nor as intuitive as Sophie, but it’s been exactly seven years and none of her friends or Jamie are good at playing subtle.
Cupcake knows what’s going on when Jamie suddenly rises from his seat, wine glass in hand as he clears his throat. She knows what’s about to happen when he dedicates a toast to everyone for being there to witness what he’s about to do, and looks her dead in the eyes. She’s not startled when he takes her hand or when he gets down to one knee.
Then he says: “Will you marry me?”
She’d known he was about to propose but it still catches her off guard. There are expectant faces around her, and a warm feeling in her stomach, and Jamie’s eyes are sparkling in a way she’s never been able to ignore. Cupcake doesn’t think twice about saying yes and blushes when the entire room begins clapping. It’s a shock, a terrible yet wonderful shock, and she remembers this is how it feels like the very first time a snowball hits her in the face.
Monty’s wife isn’t one for parties so their ‘wedding’ consists of legalising their marriage at the registry office the day after Monty proposes. Cupcake and Jamie decide to have theirs in November because they both want the Guardians to have the opportunity to attend, otherwise it wouldn’t feel complete. Monty and the twins fight over who gets to be best man until Jack butts in and declares the position his. (The ones aware of this opt to call him the Phantom Best Man, and Claude gets to stand in after winning rock, paper and scissors.) Pippa and Sophie compromise so Sophie gets maid of honour while Pippa gets to plan everything. Cupcake washes her hands on it all because it’s really not her area and she’s more than happy to let her friends and family deal with the details.
Perhaps that’s why she finds herself hours before the wedding, hiding out on the balcony of an empty room trying not to hyperventilate as she wrestles with the veil Pippa forced her to put on.
“What am I doing?” she moans to herself, and tosses the flimsy transparent thing over her head. She tugs irritably at the hem of her gown, which is traditionally white, terrifyingly lacy, and comes with a detachable train so long she thinks it looks ridiculous.
It’s her Mom’s idea, though, and Cupcake doesn’t have the heart to say no.
That doesn’t stop her from seriously considering whether to ditch it and just wear her favourite pink if old dress that she’d worn to the only Prom she’d ever attended. Maybe she should ditch the wedding altogether.
“Dammit, Cupcake,” she mutters, and finally gives up. She plops onto one of the chairs set out on the balcony and covers her face with her hands.
Their families had rented an entire building for the occasion, setting up the back garden for the ceremony and having the reception inside. Guests are already beginning to arrive and she can hear the sound of workers scurrying around to ensure everything is prepared. Cupcake’s mostly finished dressing and through Sophie she learns that Jamie is already outside, greeting the early birds. She’s going to be married in three hours and all she can think about is the fact that she is not ready for this.
“Should’ve thought about that before you got into the dress, huh?” she says sardonically.
She lifts her head to stare at the view. The scenery of Burgess in November looks back at her. It goes unspoken that the wedding will be held in their little hometown and right now Cupcake’s especially glad for it. She knows the forest of Burgess like the back of her hand; if she really does want to escape, she can get away before anyone notices.
She curses herself. “Stop it,” she stays sternly, glaring at her bare feet. “Stop thinking like that. What would everyone say?”
“With you talking to yourself like that, they’d think you’re nuts.”
Cupcake utters a little shriek and jumps to her feet (nearly tripping in the process because of the goddamn hem), looking around wildly with her fists at the ready. There’s a cold breeze and then Jack descends from above her head. He settles on the balcony with a light bounce and sets his staff across his knees, grinning cockily at her. Cupcake relaxes.
“Jack,” she says with an exasperated shake of her head. “You scared me, coming out of nowhere like that.”
Jack shrugs. “Sorry, was just glad to find you here,” he explains. “Thought for a second there we had a runaway bride.”
She blinks at him. Jack quirks an eyebrow back.
“This isn’t your room, right?” he says, gesturing with his staff at the doors of the balcony, which she’s closed tight and pulled the blinds over so no one will see her out here.
Cupcake coughs, embarrassed. “No, it isn’t. Mine’s the floor below on the other side.”
“Huh.” Jack tilts his head at her. “Something wrong with the balcony over there?”
“No-no. I just…the view’s better. Here, I mean. And I needed some air. There were too many people in my room so I came here to cool off.”
“Is that right,” says Jack, sounding amused. “And you happened to forget to tell your mom or anyone where you were going? You know they’re all going crazy in there. They can’t find you anywhere and some of them think you might’ve run off.”
Cupcake thinks she’s about to hyperventilate again but gets herself under control. She sags back onto the chair.
“I know, I know,” she groans and rubs her eyes. She looks up when Jack chortles.
“You look awful,” he tells her plainly, and she guesses that she must’ve messed up Sophie’s painstakingly applied make up.
Cupcake snorts. “I bet,” she says disparagingly, gesturing sharply at the dress.
“Oh, come on, I’m not talking ‘bout that,” says Jack and flaps his hand at her. “Show it to me, haven’t looked at you properly.”
Cupcake hesitates for a moment but obliges him by standing up so he can see the entire wedding ensemble. He makes a twirling motion with a finger, smirking, and with a distinct grumble she does a full turn.
“It’s not too bad,” Jack says once she’s sitting down again. “But what’s that thing on your head?”
“This?” Cupcake points to the veil. “It’s called a veil. It’s supposed to cover my face until it’s time to kiss the bride.”
The expression on Jack’s face shows he thinks as highly about it as she does-which is to say, he thinks it’s useless.
“You don’t look too happy in it,” is what he says.
“I think it’s a piece of crap,” is the vehement reply, and Cupcake rips the headband holding the veil together off her head. She has no doubt she’s undone half of the work her Mom and Pippa had put into styling her unruly locks but at the moment, she really couldn’t care less.
Jack doesn’t say anything about the veil or the state of her hair. The way he watches her is kind and she wonders if he already knows the answer to what he asks next.
“So, care to tell me why you decided to sneak out of your room and make everyone run around like chickens without their heads in there?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” says Cupcake sullenly.
“Didn’t say ya did, Cups.”
Cupcake’s lips twitch at the endearment. “I told you, I needed some air. There were too many people fussing in my room so I just…wanted to get away for a bit.”
“Without telling anyone?”
“I wouldn’t have been able to leave if I did tell someone.”
“No way,” says Jack. “Sophie would’ve snuck you out herself if you asked for space.”
Cupcake chews on her lip. She stands and walks over to the balustrade, leaning beside Jack as she wrings her hands.
“I just couldn’t stand it anymore,” she admits softly. “Everyone was talking about the details and how things were supposed to go and everything-I needed to get away from it for a bit. Just to…just to catch my breath.”
Jack hums. “Second thoughts, huh?”
The feeling that assaults her chest makes Cupcake think she’s about to have a heart attack. She tenses, hoping it’s not obvious, but when she glances over Jack’s giving her a small, knowing smile.
“It’s not a big deal,” he offers. “Tooth told me it was normal for people to feel that way, since you’re about to officially commit yourself and all.”
It takes Cupcake a few seconds to gather herself. “It is pretty normal,” she manages to say, hands clasping together tightly.
“But from what I hear,” Jack continues unexpectedly, “Brides are supposed to be giddy on their wedding day. It’s pretty rare for one to hide somewhere hours before she’s gonna get married unless she’s got serious reservations.”
Cupcake’s fingers dig into her palms. Jack nudges her lightly.
“So,” he prompts. “What’s really bothering you?”
For a moment, Cupcake wants him to disappear. She’s frazzled enough as it is; she’s doubted her decision ever since Jamie proposed and the only thing she wants to do right now is fly back to her apartment in California and pretend none of this exists. She’s actually thinking about bailing on her own wedding, for goodness’ sake. The last thing she needs is Jack Frost’s incessant prodding about feelings that’s causing all this stress in the first place!
Then she realises keeping it all inside isn’t an option anymore and now all she wants to do is cry.
Cupcake sags against stone and presses the heels of her palms against her eyes until colours burst in the darkness. “What am I doing here?” she mumbles in a hoarse voice.
“Whoa, hey, are you-are you crying?” says Jack, and it’s actually comical how alarmed he sounds but Cupcake doesn’t feel like laughing. “Oh, man, don’t cry, Cupcake. I’m not good at this stuff.”
“I’m not crying. I just feel like breaking something.”
“You can break the chair. I promise I won’t tell.”
This does make Cupcake laugh and she raises her head back up, blinking rapidly to clear her sight. Her palms are smudged with colours. Jack grimaces when she looks at him.
“Yikes,” he says, “better make sure someone gets your make-up fixed before you go out in public.”
“I’d rather just wash it all off.”
“You do look kinda weird without your freckles,” Jack agrees, which surprises her. “You okay?”
“Not really,” says Cupcake honestly, because she’s sick of lying. “What am I doing here, Jack? Seriously?”
Jack looks at her with an unsure expression and he’s gentle when he speaks. “You’re here to get married.”
Cupcake shakes her head, the sound of that last word shooting through her chest like a needle. “I want to marry Jamie, you know? I do, I really do.” She swallows. “That’s never been the problem.”
“What is the problem?”
Cupcake looks at Jack again, wondering if it’s a good idea to voice what’s been plaguing her since it all began. Then again, she truly doesn’t think she can hold it in any longer.
“I don’t know if we’re making a big mistake,” she says quietly.
Jack looks surprised. “A mistake? What, you mean about getting married?”
Cupcake shrugs. “Getting married, staying together, being together,” she lists out with little care for the difference. “Marriage’s the final act, isn’t it? Who’s to say we’re not making the biggest mistake of our lives doing this?”
“You’ve been together for seven years, Cups. I think you’d know by now if you’re making a mistake marrying Jamie.”
Cupcake feels her stomach contract with renewed anxiety. “But the problem is you can’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t actually know if you’re making a mistake with something like this,” Cupcake repeats, staring at Jack with eyes that don’t really see him. “Just because you get married doesn’t mean you’d stay together, does it? You can still change your mind. Even if we bind ourselves together for eternity doesn’t mean it won’t turn out to be a mistake. Who knows if things won’t be different in the future? You can’t predict something like that. People could be together for ten, twenty years and they still end up separating. They could say their vows, and actually mean it; they could love that other person right now but that’s not a sure thing to last, right? How can I be sure Jamie won’t change his mind?”
It’s only when she sees Jack’s vivid blue eyes go wide does she realise what she’s spouted. She turns away, biting her lip hard and clenching her fingers.
“Is that what this is about?” says Jack after a second. “You’re worried Jamie might leave you one day?”
Cupcake sighs. “My dad left my mom when I was six,” she confesses. “They were high school sweethearts. They’d been married for over ten years before they had me. But one day he came to me and said he didn’t love Mom anymore, and that they couldn’t stay together. So he left. I…I never even noticed they had any problems. I thought they were happy.”
She rubs her face tiredly. “You know,” she begins conversationally. “It would’ve been so much easier if Jamie never asked me out. I could’ve gotten over whatever crush I had. I even managed to ignore all the girls he went out with, and I said no when he asked me to senior Prom.”
“Senior Prom?” Jack repeats in confusion.
“It’s a school dance in your last year of high school. A lot of people see it as a big deal but it was just a big waste of time. I went with Monty.”
“Why didn’t you go with Jamie?”
Cupcake turns back at him. “Because,” she says and pauses. “I was the last girl in the group who believed in you, since he and Pippa didn’t work out and Sophie is his sister. I didn’t want to feel like he was asking me just because I was the only choice he had left.”
Jack frowns but before he can say anything, Cupcake continues.
“Someone like Pippa would fit Jamie,” she muses. “That’s the kind of person he needs, someone stable and pretty, someone who makes him look good. I should’ve said no when he asked me out. If I did, then he could’ve found somebody who actually fits him. And I could’ve moved on. I wouldn’t have to going through this right now, feeling like I’m going to ruin his life or something. The two of us could’ve gone our separate ways and we’d be happy, and I wouldn’t feel like I’d be miserable the rest of my life if I loo-”
She cuts herself off there, knowing she’s making herself look pathetic with the amount of nonsense she’s spouting. She glances at Jack and sighs again.
“Sorry,” she mutters, ruffling her hair even more. “It’s just…don’t you think he should find someone…I don’t know, better or something?”
“Better?” says Jack, and he sounds incredulous. “Define better.”
Cupcake shifts uncomfortably. “Look, the truth is I don’t think I can do this if it’s going to end up the way my parents did. I don’t want to be the girl who wasted her life staying with someone who’s going to change his mind.”
“You think Jamie’s that kind of person?”
“I-no, I don’t, but I don’t want him to stay with me because he feels like he has to either. I just-I’m not asking for much, okay? If it works out well, that’d be great, but how do I know it will? We’ve been together seven years but he can still find someone else. I can just stop this whole thing right now before it’s too late.”
“And what, leave him waiting at the altar?”
Cupcake says, maybe a little bitterly, “Better now than ten years down the road with a kid in the picture.”
The frustration is back but worse, eating at her insides in giant chomps. She’s not the kind of girl who thinks about things like this. She’s always been confident, straightforward and decisive. It’s infuriating to argue back and forth with herself, she doesn’t like wishing she could vanish somewhere to avoid dealing with all this, and she hates being so unsure about the feelings of a man she’s been in love with for more than half her life. It’s not that she isn’t aware of how brittle her issues are, or how badly-timed it is for them to reach their peak, but they’re all squished inside her head and she’s about to explode. She wants to scream, she wants to cry. She wants to go so Jamie will have a chance of finding someone who actually deserves him.
She wants to marry Jamie.
“What should I do, Jack?” she whispers. “I don’t know anymore.”
Jack is silent for much longer than she can ever remember him being. When he does eventually speak, what he says catches her off guard.
“You know, when I first met you, you were really scary,” he states.
Cupcake blinks at him, frustration temporarily overshadowed by bewilderment. “Okay,” she says slowly.
“No, really, you were the scariest little girl I’d ever met,” Jack insists. “You were bigger than any other kid in the park and I really thought that you could crush Jamie if you stepped on him.”
Cupcake winces. Jack smiles.
“But you were also one of the easiest people for me to inspire,” he says cheerfully.
Cupcake blinks. “What?” she says blankly.
Jack taps his staff against the balustrade he’s perched on and intricate patterns of ice snake over the stone. Although she expects it, Cupcake still has to jerk her hands away when the cold bites at her skin. Jack runs a finger down the crystalline sheet before closing his fist over it, catching something that Cupcake can’t see. When he opens it, a snowflake drifts up into the air.
“I can help people have fun,” Jack explains. “One shot of this and you’d be laughing within the minute. My magic helps bring out the part of you that wants to do something you love, the part that knows how to enjoy life. It’s one reason why I’m a Guardian. I help people experience the little things that make your day.”
Cupcake watches in wonder as the snowflake, now the size of her hand, dances in the light breeze Jack summons. It looks like it’s carved out of glass, delicate and ready to shatter but beautiful nonetheless.
“This thing makes people have fun?” she asks, reaching out to touch it but it dances away from her fingers.
“Well, this, a well-aimed snowball, a wet willy when times call for desperate measures,” says Jack nonchalantly, and grins when Cupcake stifles a giggle. “But I can’t actually make people have fun. I can only…nudge things along, y’know?”
She shakes her head wordlessly.
“It’s like I said. I can help you feel like you want to have fun. This-” Jack twists his wrist and the breeze picks up, tossing the snowflake high.
Suddenly it bursts and sparkling powder float down over them. Cupcake opens her hands and when the mini snowflakes land on her skin, she feels a vague sense of delight rise within her, warm and familiar. Jack’s smile widens.
“This helps remind you how happy you are when you’re having fun,” he says. “It doesn’t make you feel it, and it doesn’t convince you to. It just sends a signal to your brain. But the choice to continue feeling that is yours. I could hit you with a thousand of these but they won’t work unless you want to accept them. It’s up to you, see?”
Cupcake looks at him, understanding flooding her at the same time a faded memory flitters across her mind. “You’re the one who threw that snowball at me,” she realises.
Jack catches on instantly and coughs, his expression sheepish. “Some people have to get hit a few times,” he offers. “And sometimes it just doesn’t work because they don’t want to stop feeling angry or sad or whatever’s more important to them than having fun. But you embraced it right away. I was pretty amazed.”
Cupcake gazes at him with some awe. “But what does that have to do anything?” she finally asks.
Jack shrugs. “I’m just telling you about my first impression of you,” he replies. “I mean, I was seriously impressed. And you hit it off straight away with Jamie and the others. I guess I’m glad I did get you with that snowball. You made some good friends that day, didn’t you?”
Cupcake can only nod, truly at a loss as to where this is going.
“Hey,” says Jack, crossing his legs, “do you regret it?”
“Regret what?”
“Making friends with them.”
“No way,” says Cupcake, surprised. “Regret it? That’s impossible. They…all of you, all of you changed my life. Who knows where I’d be if that day didn’t happen?”
“Not here, I can tell you that,” he tells her gently.
Cupcake looks at him.
“You know, did you ever wonder where Jamie or any of the others would be if that day didn’t happen for them either?” Jack asks her. He doesn’t let her answer. “Don’t say it wouldn’t have made a difference, Cups. Every one person makes an impact somehow. You stuck with these kids for years. They changed you, but you changed them too, ever thought of that? You made friends with Sophie even though she’s years younger than you. You helped Pippa figure out if she wanted to go that Prince college. You helped out with the twins’ restaurant. You promised Monty you’d pound anyone who tried bullying his kid. You said yes when Jamie asked you out.”
Cupcake opens her mouth but it’s a moment before the words come out. “That’s not much.”
Jack grins. “Oh?” he says, with a lilt to his voice. “So you’re saying that him asking you out didn’t make a difference in your life?”
Cupcake’s about to say no, vehemently, but then it dawns on her that it’s her wedding day. It didn’t just suddenly happen; this is an important occasion borne from a slew of others, something that could make or break the rest of her life. If Jamie hadn’t asked her out seven years ago, she might be somewhere else far, far away, probably alone, probably unhappy. But she is here, she’s getting married today and none of this would’ve happened if things didn’t go the way they did since the first time she notices that sparkle in Jamie’s eyes.
It’s with the sensation of having an epiphany that she understands what Jack really means when he said she wouldn’t be here if that special day in her past had never been.
“I don’t know what happened with your parents,” says Jack, “but I do know that there’s no way you would be standing here if you didn’t choose it. You’ve been together with Jamie for seven years, Cups, because you chose to stay with him for seven years. It’s not like you two hopscotched twice and swore never to part. You had to go through a lot, didn’t you? You can’t tell me you had a prim perfect record with each other. You fought, and broke up, and got back together, then you pressed replay, and despite all that you’re still here. When he asked to marry you, you said yes ‘cause you wanted to. And I can say that everything you do from now on will lead to whatever’s going to happen in that future you’re so worried about.
“Look, I can’t promise you that it’s gonna be fine, or that you’re gonna be together forever.” Jack pulls a disgusted face as though the cheesiness is finally getting to him. “It’s up to you how that’ll turn out in the end.”
Cupcake swallows past a dry throat. “It’s not just up to me, though,” she can’t help but say.
Jack shrugs. “Yeah, but your other half is up there in his room going through panic attacks in front of the mirror so I don’t think he’s quite up to making any other major decisions right now.”
A spike of dread goes through Cupcake’s chest. She’s such an idiot for not considering it. She’s been here for over an hour contemplating whether to flee; it’s perfectly possible that Jamie is thinking the very same thing. In fact, it’s very likely that she’ll be the one left standing at the altar alone. Jamie might already be gone for all that she knows, not that she’d blame him for it.
The thought is almost physically painful, though.
“He’s having second thoughts?” she makes out.
“He’s too busy being nervous over all the ways he can mess things up,” Jack informs her cheerfully. “Monty-boy made sure no one told him you went missing. He’d just go crazy. You know what he’s like. It’s graduation day all over again, but times ten.”
And somehow that calms Cupcake like no other reassurance would’ve. She remembers how antsy Jamie had been on his graduation day. It’s not a stretch to imagine how he’s acting now, and it’s nothing particularly serious. When his name was called, Jamie had stopped fidgeting and walked onto the stage with all the resolution Cupcake can remember him radiating when he stood up to the Boogeyman at ten years old. She’d never been prouder.
She laughs faintly. “That’s…great,” she says.
Jack’s expression softens visibly when she looks at him again.
“I kind of get how you’re feeling,” he admits, rubbing the back of his head and staring at the ground with uncharacteristic shyness. “You can’t really tell if the other person is in it as deep as you are, and it’s scary to think that they might not because then you’re left hanging. If you’re going to give yourself, you want it to be for good and for real. You want so much for it to last because you’re in love. You can’t imagine it being anyone else and, to be honest, there’s no turning back anymore. There is no one else for you because no matter what you’re worried about, he’s the one you’ll always choose.”
Cupcake watches Jack, the faraway look in his eyes, and thinks that he’s spot on.
“I’m worried even marriage won’t help me keep him,” she finally finds the courage to confess, “since it didn’t work for my parents.”
“From what I’ve seen, it’s not the marriage that keeps people together.”
At those words Cupcake lets out a long exhale, and feels all her doubt rush out with it. She feels a lot lighter now.
Jack turns to her and smiles. “Trust me, Cups. He’s panicking up there for a reason, just like you’re here. There’s no way to figure out how he’ll feel ten years from now but chances are it’s not going to change. It won’t change for you, will it?”
“No,” Cupcake agrees, the responding smile blooming on her lips far more genuine than it has been for days. “It never will.”
Jack reaches over and flicks her nose. “You’re all brats,” he says, shaking his head. “Making me ruin my cool image just to make you feel better.”
Cupcake outright grins. She tosses her head back and squares her shoulders. “Well,” she says, and takes a step away from the balustrade, spreading her arms wide. “How do I look?”
“Like a clown,” Jack states seriously and quickly dodges her punch with a light hop into the air as he laughs gaily.
Cupcake rubs at her nose, remembering the feel of snowflakes on her skin. “I guess I should go back in,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at the balcony doors still wedged shut.
“That might be a good idea,” Jack confirms, landing back on the balustrade in a crouch, “unless you want to stay out here a bit longer.”
Cupcake searches inside herself but the anxiety is gone. Her heart is calmer than it’s been for as long as she can remember. The thought of marriage, while still making it beat twice as fast, doesn’t induce painful twisting emotions anymore. She doesn’t know if Jamie will leave her one day but for now, she doesn’t doubt that he loves her as much as she loves him.
“Time to face the music,” she says to Jack, who laughs again. She smiles and turns, ready to make her way back inside. She raises a hand to touch the veil on her head and wonders if she should pull it back over her face to hide the worst of the damage she’s dealt to everyone’s hard work.
“Hey, wait, I just remembered something.”
She turns back, quirking a curious eyebrow, and watches as Jack straightens on the slab of stone-his extraordinary sense of balance never fails to astonish her. Pursing his lips, he whistles clear and low. She looks around, waiting, but then Jack distracts her by jumping down and striding forward.
“Hey!” Cupcake yelps, when Jack tugs the veil off her head without a care for what it does to her hair.
She makes a grab for it but Jack merely tosses it over his shoulder and it disappears off the balcony. Cupcake’s jaw drops, sheer outrage rendering her speechless.
Jack gives her an unapologetic grin before looking up. Cupcake follows his gaze when she hears the fast beat of little wings and blinks in surprise when something tiny and colourful whizzes past the roof and into view. It takes her a moment to recognise the bird as one of the Tooth Fairy collectors. It’s carrying something much larger than its little body but light enough that it has no problem darting towards Jack at the speed of a bullet.
“Thanks, Baby Tooth,” says Jack when it perches on his shoulder. “Wasn’t sure you knew it was me.”
The hummingbird-like creature twitters excitedly at him, grinning. In wonder, Cupcake peers closely at it and what it’s holding in its tiny hands. It’s a crown of flowers; tiny white blooms woven delicately and skilfully around twining green roots. The plants themselves are exquisite and they look as if they’ll be crushed if held with particular force. She doesn’t recognise them but that doesn’t stop her from admiring their beauty. It’s the first time she’s ever seen a real crown of flowers, much less one as magnificent as this.
Cupcake flinches in shock when Jack takes the circular object and, without further ado, sets it upon her head. She stares at him with wide eyes even as he nods to himself in satisfaction.
“I forgot why I was looking for you when Sophie told me you were missing,” he explains. “See, this is way better than that flimsy sheet thing.”
Cupcake touches the wreath carefully. The flowers are smooth and cool to her skin.
“I can’t wear this,” she says uncertainly.
“You have to,” Jack tells her. “Bunny’ll be really disappointed if you don’t. He’ll think you don’t like his wedding gift.”
“It’s from the Easter Bunny?” Cupcake says in disbelief. “I-but I can’t accept this.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“Like-no, I love it, it’s beautiful!”
Jack grins smugly. “Good, the ol’ Kangaroo worked really hard on it. He even asked me to give it to you because he was too shy to give it himself.”
Cupcake hesitates. She’s not sure why but the veil had felt oddly heavy when she had it on. The crown weighs as much as a feather on her head yet it feels right for some reason.
“It doesn’t look weird on me, does it?” she asks tentatively.
Jack smiles and reaches up to adjust it. “Perfect,” he announces after a second. “Right, Baby Tooth?”
The little bird coos agreeably.
“If you say so,” says Cupcake, doubtful.
Jack swipes a thumb over her cheek. It comes away smeared with foundation.
“That’s one freckle,” he says with fake solemnity. “A bit more and I might actually recognise you.”
Cupcake snorts. “You’re right,” she says, “I think I’m just going to wipe it all off.”
“That’s my girl.” Jack seizes her shoulders and turns her around. “Now get lost already. Go find Sophie or whoever. Someone needs to do major damage control to your face.”
Cupcake goes with a delighted laugh. At the door, Jack’s voice stops her again. She looks back to see him gazing at her with a cherishing smile she’s only ever seen directed at Jamie.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Cups,” says Jack, “You said so yourself, it’s not up to just you. Jamie made half the choice and he did that for a reason.”
Cupcake smiles. “Thank you, Jack,” she tells him.
He salutes her and then makes a shooing motion with his hands. Baby Tooth chirps brightly and copies him. Cupcake goes.
Sophie is the first one to find her. She starts shrieking over the state of Cupcake’s makeup and hair but abruptly stops when she sees the crown of flowers. She knows instantly who made it, and when Cupcake tells her she won’t wear the veil, the detachable train or any makeup Sophie doesn’t argue. Pippa takes a little more convincing, and Cupcake’s Mom a lot, but they make it work within the hour. Cupcake doesn’t know what she was so worried about, because she’s never seen her mother look so proud.
Everyone is relieved when she finally appears downstairs. Her Dad takes her arm and kisses her forehead. She soaks in the warmth of his smile and lets him lead her toward the gardens where her groom is waiting. When she reaches it, she looks up the aisle and meets Jamie’s gaze.
She hardly remembers anything else. Jamie is all she sees. He’s standing tall, straight-backed, and his expression as he stares at Cupcake is so full of love she has to consciously refrain from smacking herself; how could she have ever doubted that he felt any less for her than she did for him?
She does spot Jack in his position beside Jamie, making faces at the little kids in the guest stands. The children are giggling and squealing, waving back at him, and their baffled parents are valiantly trying to hush them. Jack catches Cupcake’s eye and winks.
When Cupcake reaches the platform, Jamie takes her hand and doesn’t release it even when she takes her place. The ceremony passes in some kind of blur. She doesn’t even know how long it takes to reach the “I dos”, and she can’t recall anything from the environment around her because she’s too busy basking in the grip of Jamie’s hand, how he’s clutching her like he won’t ever let go, and how he hasn’t looked anywhere else since he first caught sight of her.
Things stall, though, when they realise it’s time to kiss the bride. Cupcake’s suddenly reminded there are people surrounding the little platform, eyes intent upon them, waiting with bated breath and ready cameras for that special moment. Jamie looks like a deer caught in the headlights and his cheeks are cherry red. Cupcake shares his embarrassment; she’s not sure how she’s supposed to handle kissing him in front of all these people. She’s blushing so badly she’s sure Jamie can sense the heat.
That’s when the snow begins to fall.
Cupcake’s gaze snaps instantly to the tiny snowflakes that blow gently over her. Jamie looks as surprised as she feels, and they both glance over at the Phantom Best Man. Except he’s not there. Claude catches their looks with an alarmed one of his own and jabs his finger upwards.
They don’t manage to see Jack though, because there’s joyous laughter from above before a blizzard besets them all. Jamie pulls Cupcake close as snow comes down like heavy rain, whipping through the gardens and covering everything in white. They can hear the alarmed cries of the guests but the kids are shrieking in exuberance instead of fear because they’re able to see who’s causing this. Cupcake hears, too, a distinctive Australian-accented voice bellowing Winter’s name.
Then Jack’s voice sings through the wind, calling: “Well, you gonna kiss the bride or not, kiddo?”
“Wait-” says Jamie, face brightening with realisation.
Cupcake realises that everything around her is white and she can’t see anyone. And that means no one can see her.
“Troublemaker,” Jamie huffs, but his tone is unmistakably fond. “So this is what he meant when he said he had something special planned for us during the ceremony.”
Cupcake stares at him in consternation and then shakes her head, helplessly amused.
“I’m so glad I’m marrying you,” she tells him, and means every word.
Jamie grins at her as he wraps his arms around her waist.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he says, right before he finally kisses her. When she starts laughing in sheer delight, he joins in.
Once the blizzard subsides, Jamie leads her back down the snow-powdered aisle and all Cupcake can think of is how dearly she loves the way his eyes are sparkling, because she knows they only do that when Jamie is overwhelmingly, truly happy.
END