#whistleupawinter

         ‘ jack. ’ the young winter spirit seems to be the only one who can get the voice of mother nature to express even the tiniest iota of warmth. or at least of any indication that she is not bored or irritated. ‘ i am conjuring a storm, i want you to come with me. it is a teachable moment, but i daresay you may in fact have some fun. ’

         ‘ ridiculous, ’ she growls, though there is the smallest curve of a smile on her lips. because if she’s honest, it feels good to play again. the days when mischief was easy for mother nature seem far and lost, but standing with this white-haired youth at her side, they’re a little closer and a little less painful. ‘ blonde does not suit me. ’

nonverbal rp starters.accepting!

🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s shoulder/knee

          IT ISN’T JACK’S fault her shoulder tenses at first. billions of years without touch has made her body hypersensitive to physical sensation, to the point where any such stimulation sets every nerve on fire, even something as gentle as this. it is a vulnerability so pronounced, in fact, that a mere invasion into her personal space is met with swift and certain death.

         …this winter spirit, however, continues to be spared of mother nature’s wrath.

         though her expression does not change, her shoulder does relax, and briefly her brows furrow with the confusion of realizing that the young boy has not retreated in disgust – he is staying. but for what? seraphina blinks slowly, feeling a certain lump begin to form in her throat and a feverish heat flush her otherwise icy skin. when was the last time she was ever afforded such sweetness?…

nonverbal rp starters.accepting!

🤞 Come up beside them and tap the shoulder opposite where they’re standing.

                IT’S A GIVEN that mother nature already knows this admittedly very basic trick – even so, her gaze slides to where the winter spirit taps her shoulder, then back to where he stands. that’s about as far as her indulgence goes. it’s a miracle in and of itself that someone can manage to touch her, even something as small as a tap, without her immediately enacting some vicious retaliation. but jack frost receives only that inscrutable curve to her mouth, overall giving her the appearance of a very large cat indulging in the antics of a young and rambunctious cub as it suns itself.

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

Mae tries to circumvent Jack’s frosty influence on food and drink by lobbing small pieces of pastries into his mouth and using a water gun to shoot coffee to him. In theory it worked. The actual execution…not so much. 

Jack and Mae try to race each other when it comes to flying. He has always been faster than her but she doesn’t mind much since it’s nice just to fly around.

The windows of Theory always happen to have strangely beautiful frosts on them during the winter.

MEME.

 The brush stilled, leaving behind the barest scraping ofthe pale blue color Bunny was working with. He’d expectedJack to interrupt the companionable silence eventually but this certainly wasn’t the way he expected. Jack’s gazewas distant as he spoke, shoulders sloping with the emotional weight of the words he spoke.