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Winter is her favorite time of the year.
It's beautiful. Silver and blue dance around with one another in a waltz of freezing passion as snow and ice douse the land in a blanket of boreal glamour. Glass windowpanes become easels for falling snowflakes, frost etching into the smooth surfaces in intricate and unique patterns.
Winter has always been her favorite time of the year, and it always will be.
It is not because of Christmas--no, even though she loves the holiday, it is not what sparks her strong fondness for the star-colored blanketing across the land. Her infatuation with the snow and ice and everything cold has to do with something that most people don't truly believe in.
A boy.
A boy whom she met long ago.
She still remembers the day like it was yesterday. Running around in the forest, laughing and tasting the snowflakes as they fell down into her parted lips and melting immediately on her tongue. All bundled up as a precaution, even though the winter has always been kind to her in its cold embrace and has never affected her like others. And so she continues to run, a little girl so happy and glad to be out in this winter wonderland of silver trees and breath freezing in mid-air and snow coating her flushed face and entire body in a comforting white armor.
Then there's a sudden gust of wind, colder than usual and as fast as lightning.
She stops in her tracks, small boots sinking into the snow as she peers up into the skeletal canopy curiously. The tree branches are all knocking together in the chilly wind, creating a hollow cacophony as icicles drop down and plunge into the snowbanks, disappearing from view. Despite the sudden temperature drop, she doesn't shiver--instead, she merely watches the trees dance in the wind, a smile etching across her face.
And then there is a laugh--the same laugh she will always remember, a sound she will cherish like a precious note of the most melodious music in the world.
It's a boy's laugh. Playful and impish, mischievous and bright; a blend of everything that echoes "winter" in her ears.
She raises her hands to the sky, fingers curling inside the warm confines of the gloves as she desperately tries to touch the wind that whips around her like an excited puppy. She wants to feel the winter with her heart, not just her body. She wants to let the winter know how much she loves it, how much she cares for it.
How much she believes in it.
Or, more importantly, how much she believes in him.
"I know you," she whispers, soft and gentle voice carrying on the wind. "I've always known you...I always will. I believe in you...Jack Frost."
The wind and laughter cease immediately, shock palpable in the frigid air as time seems to stop completely, as if frozen.
And then there's the feeling of a cold yet gentle hand brushing against her forehead, and for the briefest of moments two eyes as blue as a winter sky are gazing into hers. Those eyes hold everything; sorrow, gladness, humor, kindness, melancholy, love, fun...
Those eyes are winter. Her winter.
Her Jack Frost.
"...thank you, kid," he answers in a quiet tone, his voice as lovely as freshly fallen snow yet as strong as a glacier.
And then he is gone.
She smiles as she reminisces of that day, so long ago. She is older now, bigger and wiser. Yet she still loves winter; still loves him. She will never stop loving him, never stop believing in him. For he is winter, and winter is her one, true love.
As she is leaning against the now-open window so she can feel the sweet, chilling caress of winter's--and his--touch from the outside, the tip of one finger etching into the frosted glass slowly and unconsciously, her mother's voice permeates the barrier of memories she had been hiding herself in.
"Child, you'll catch your death like that! Close the window and come away from there--do you want to get frostbite, dear?"
A humored smile stretches across her lips, and she can't help but give a little chuckle as she gazes upon the pattern she has made in the icy window.
A boy's figure, so simple and without detail that it could be anyone--yet she knows exactly who it is.
"Don't worry, Mother, I've already gotten it," she answers jovially as she places one hand over her chest to feel the fluttering of her heart. "In fact, you could say I've had it for a long time. Right here, in my heart..."
She swears she can hear a laugh far off in the distance, her dear winter giving her the gift of his freezing music once more.
"I'm frostbitten, and I always will be."
It's beautiful. Silver and blue dance around with one another in a waltz of freezing passion as snow and ice douse the land in a blanket of boreal glamour. Glass windowpanes become easels for falling snowflakes, frost etching into the smooth surfaces in intricate and unique patterns.
Winter has always been her favorite time of the year, and it always will be.
It is not because of Christmas--no, even though she loves the holiday, it is not what sparks her strong fondness for the star-colored blanketing across the land. Her infatuation with the snow and ice and everything cold has to do with something that most people don't truly believe in.
A boy.
A boy whom she met long ago.
She still remembers the day like it was yesterday. Running around in the forest, laughing and tasting the snowflakes as they fell down into her parted lips and melting immediately on her tongue. All bundled up as a precaution, even though the winter has always been kind to her in its cold embrace and has never affected her like others. And so she continues to run, a little girl so happy and glad to be out in this winter wonderland of silver trees and breath freezing in mid-air and snow coating her flushed face and entire body in a comforting white armor.
Then there's a sudden gust of wind, colder than usual and as fast as lightning.
She stops in her tracks, small boots sinking into the snow as she peers up into the skeletal canopy curiously. The tree branches are all knocking together in the chilly wind, creating a hollow cacophony as icicles drop down and plunge into the snowbanks, disappearing from view. Despite the sudden temperature drop, she doesn't shiver--instead, she merely watches the trees dance in the wind, a smile etching across her face.
And then there is a laugh--the same laugh she will always remember, a sound she will cherish like a precious note of the most melodious music in the world.
It's a boy's laugh. Playful and impish, mischievous and bright; a blend of everything that echoes "winter" in her ears.
She raises her hands to the sky, fingers curling inside the warm confines of the gloves as she desperately tries to touch the wind that whips around her like an excited puppy. She wants to feel the winter with her heart, not just her body. She wants to let the winter know how much she loves it, how much she cares for it.
How much she believes in it.
Or, more importantly, how much she believes in him.
"I know you," she whispers, soft and gentle voice carrying on the wind. "I've always known you...I always will. I believe in you...Jack Frost."
The wind and laughter cease immediately, shock palpable in the frigid air as time seems to stop completely, as if frozen.
And then there's the feeling of a cold yet gentle hand brushing against her forehead, and for the briefest of moments two eyes as blue as a winter sky are gazing into hers. Those eyes hold everything; sorrow, gladness, humor, kindness, melancholy, love, fun...
Those eyes are winter. Her winter.
Her Jack Frost.
"...thank you, kid," he answers in a quiet tone, his voice as lovely as freshly fallen snow yet as strong as a glacier.
And then he is gone.
She smiles as she reminisces of that day, so long ago. She is older now, bigger and wiser. Yet she still loves winter; still loves him. She will never stop loving him, never stop believing in him. For he is winter, and winter is her one, true love.
As she is leaning against the now-open window so she can feel the sweet, chilling caress of winter's--and his--touch from the outside, the tip of one finger etching into the frosted glass slowly and unconsciously, her mother's voice permeates the barrier of memories she had been hiding herself in.
"Child, you'll catch your death like that! Close the window and come away from there--do you want to get frostbite, dear?"
A humored smile stretches across her lips, and she can't help but give a little chuckle as she gazes upon the pattern she has made in the icy window.
A boy's figure, so simple and without detail that it could be anyone--yet she knows exactly who it is.
"Don't worry, Mother, I've already gotten it," she answers jovially as she places one hand over her chest to feel the fluttering of her heart. "In fact, you could say I've had it for a long time. Right here, in my heart..."
She swears she can hear a laugh far off in the distance, her dear winter giving her the gift of his freezing music once more.
"I'm frostbitten, and I always will be."
Literature
JackFrostXReader - Part 1
The snow outside fell slow as you stared upon it. There was no telling where it came from, or how it fell. You never thought about that at the age of 7. You just sat there, leaning against the window and following each delicate snowflake. The warm fleece was wrapped around you, and your hot coco right beside you.
You watched as all your foster siblings played outside; throwing snowballs and making snow angels. There was no motivation for you to go outside. But you certainly weren't bored. As you watched the laughter and happiness, you had frowned. Remembering that you didn't have a family only brought sorrow and ache to your fragile heart.
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Like Crazy: Jack FrostxReader
"GAAAAAH! I effin' hate the snow!" you whined to no one in particular, throwing another shovelful of of the aforementioned frozen liquid behind you. "It has to be the worst part of this stupid season!"
"Awww come on, _____." a voice said, startling you. You turned around to see your friend and love interest (who said that?!) Jack... You know, you never could remember his last name. Did he even tell you? You felt kind of stupid, thinking about it...
"Hello? ______? Are you still there?"
You shook your head. "Y-yeah." you said, looking him all over. You noticed once again he wasn't wearing shoes.
"Honestly, Jack. One of these days you're go
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Do You Believe? ~ Seven (Jack Frost x Reader)
"JAAAAAAACK!"
Pink eyes widened and long eyelashes fluttered as the Tooth Fairy blinked once or twice, before her gaze shot over to the two teenagers soaring through the air, one screaming like a lunatic and the other seemingly amused by it all. A dainty hand massaged soft brows as Toothiana let out a small sigh, before glancing over at the silent chokes and the death symbol scattered above Sandy's head, for he had choked on his eggnog and was now spluttering and coughing in mute. Toothiana cringed and flew over to him and began to pat his back as Bunnymund let out a loud groan.
"Typical! Bloody Typical! He's never professional about anythi
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So...I saw Rise of the Guardians yesterday. Definitely made me happy and feel a lot better. That movie was beautiful. Just...yes. I got teary at the end. My childhood was stabbing me in the heart and it hurt. But it was a good kind of hurt. I think.
And, well...I kind of have an unhealthy affection towards Jack Frost from the movie now.
So yes, I admit this is based on that, but it's not exactly a "fanfiction" or anything. This is merely a girl--it could be any girl--who has always loved Jack Frost. Whether it be the RotG Jack or the Jack from legends and tales. And I figured that Jack Frost will have blue eyes no matter what, so that's the only physical appearance I set for him. As for the way I described his laugh, well, in all the stories Jack Frost is supposed to be a trickster, yet I am combining the elements of him being lonely as well. So yeah. I'll stop ranting now.
...RotG Jack Frost needs to be real because dammit I want to hug him.
Also...winter's my favorite time of the year. Just sayin'.
Jack, y u no nip at my nose yet?
And, well...I kind of have an unhealthy affection towards Jack Frost from the movie now.
So yes, I admit this is based on that, but it's not exactly a "fanfiction" or anything. This is merely a girl--it could be any girl--who has always loved Jack Frost. Whether it be the RotG Jack or the Jack from legends and tales. And I figured that Jack Frost will have blue eyes no matter what, so that's the only physical appearance I set for him. As for the way I described his laugh, well, in all the stories Jack Frost is supposed to be a trickster, yet I am combining the elements of him being lonely as well. So yeah. I'll stop ranting now.
...RotG Jack Frost needs to be real because dammit I want to hug him.
Also...winter's my favorite time of the year. Just sayin'.
Jack, y u no nip at my nose yet?
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u just made me love winter and Jack a lot more...