#this cold took me out bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toxintouch · 1 month ago

Note

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat. A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way. Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention. It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you. On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort. You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips. His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs. “Your lips are so cold.” He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering. His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?” He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours. “Not that it matters. It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to. Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building. I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling. You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.” He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things. However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?” He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore. Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable. A pity. By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday. Good wine, music, dancing. There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces. But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself. Some of the dances were very scandalous. You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer. It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say. He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share. In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage. Though, I admit. I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you. Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?” He purrs. “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes. It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady. Dizzying.

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up. It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den. He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist.

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth. The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you.

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet? You really do try your luck…”

#Foxes purr btw!#i await more purring Vere fics I hold out my sickly little claws for them (a prompt from me for other fic writers)#You and I get to know that Vere was touching on Sparrow’s face sm bc he caught a peek at Mhin doing it in Cold Spots #and he got territorial #I decided that the narrative pointing it out was laying it on too heavy. but you and i know.#Hopefully this fits the bill ok of what u described anon! A liiittle spice but mostly wholesome??#i’m ngl I was going for more spice but ...Deicide!Flavored Vere... he took all of it #AAA SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG THO ANON AAAAuuughghhh #also ur so right anon u gotta have a sequel (since I was talking about horror tropes lol)#the thought of Vere & Mhin being down bad for the same person is sooo funny to me btw. i think of it often.#vere x reader #touchstarved x reader #toxintouch writing #touchstarved game fanfic #no pillow fight i'm osrry #this fic. fought me. this fic stole my wallet in the denny's parking lot #toxintouch: {pick} prompt {your poison}#wtf tumblr why did u do this to my image i thought i got my dimensions right the file can't be that big...#i have 2 ways of choosing titles btw on the nose and “you'll have to google this/have me explain”

76 notes · View notes

safyresky · 11 months ago

Text

Smile Shot: Seeing Red

Jacqueline has a crisis over Rankin-Bass's Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

aka, THEY BULLIED AN ACTUAL BABY, JACK!

---

"They were actually SO MEAN to Rudolph."

Jack shut the door behind him, one eyebrow delicately raised as he watched his sister fuss behind his bar, pouring things from his mini-fridge into a tumbler. "Hello to you too, little flurry. Why are you in my condo."

"Because I'm having a PROBLEM with RUDOLPH, okay?"

"And you couldn't have dropped a line? You HAD to come here?" Tossing his keys on the side table and kicking off his shoes, Jack made his way to the bar, sliding onto one of the stools.

"YES." Frowning, she sealed the tumbler shut, shaking it up intensely. "Like. He was born with a red nose that glows. And they bullied the FUCK outta him, dude! Like, right out the gate! He couldn't even WALK and his Dad was like 'what the fuck is this?!'"

Jack chuckled, the mid-century sports announcer voice Jacqueline had used to imitate Rudolph's father nearly bang on.

"And then! Fucking SANTA CLAUS walks into the cave and is like 'WOW! LOOK AT THIS CALF! OH WAIT. WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT NOSE?' like, even SANTA was being mean to him! SANTA!" Placing the tumbler down, she rummaged below the counter top, pulling out two whisky glasses.

"To be fair, Santa is a bit of a dick."

The mini-fridge below the bar whipped open, bottles clinking. She placed whipped cream on the counter, a small bottle of chocolate sprinkles appearing beside it. "But the Rankin-Bass Santa ISN'T Scott, Jack! He isn't Scott!" the fridge door slammed, Jacqueline popping back up, hands on her hips. "He's so WHOLESOME in Santa Claus is Comin' to Town and in Rudolph he is LITERALLY bullying a freshly born baby!!!! A freshly!" she unscrewed the tumbler cap. "Born!" pulling the glasses close, she poured the chocolatey looking mixture into both of them. "Baby!"

"Rankin-Bass?"

"Uh, yeah. I don't think I stuttered."

Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. "Didn't the Rudolph film come before the Santa one?"

Now it was Jacqueline's turn to look thoughtful as she shook the can of whipped cream. "I think so, yes."

"Well at least they fixed Santa's bizz for that one."

"I mean. I GUESS. But they still bullied an actual baby, Jack." She wrinkled her nose, pushing down on the spout and topping the two drinks with whipped cream. Opening up the sprinkles, she gently tapped the bottle, a substantial amount of sprinkles fluttering down onto the whipped cream. "Here, you have to try this monstrosity."

Jack reached out, grabbing the cup that Jacqueline slid his way. He tilted it expectantly; with a feral grin, she clinked her cup against his before taking a frothy whipped cream filled sip, Jack following suite.

"Mmm, monstrosity indeed, what is in this? Chocolate? More chocolate? Only chocolate?"

"Chocolate milk AND Irish cream! Mostly chocolate milk. It's like, 3 parts to one. Then there's the sprinkles, too. I like chocolate."

"I never would've guessed."

Jacqueline rolled her eyes. "Dude! I am having a CRISIS and you are making fun of me? Your cute wee little sister? In the midst of her MASSIVE CRISIS?"

"You are having a crisis over Rudolph, Jacqueline."

"It's VALID! I mean, if I had been born with a bright red nose, would you have been like 'sorry Jacqueline, you simply cannot Jack Frost with THAT schnoz.' like???? Do you see? My problem?"

"You were born with a red nose though. You were very red all over, actually. And squishy. And loud."

Jacqueline blinked. "You held me right after I was born?"

"Well, duh. I mean, after Mom and Dad, of course. I figured it was well earned given that I spent the entire time you were being born fending off Spring."

"Ou. Felt. You'll never guess what I was doing when the Twins were being born."

"Fighting Aunt Spring?"

"Fighting Aunt Spring." she nodded sagely, taking another sip before continuing. "Cute lil' red nose aside, you didn't banish me from Jack Frost-ing because of it! Like, Santa literally sees the nose and is all 'well. You can't pull my sleigh like THAT' and it's like DAMN bitch, bold of you to assume he'd even WANT to! They act like it's some kinda big HONOUR—"

"And it really isn't! Lugging old fatty around and all those gifts? Honestly, their sense of what is and isn't a Big Deal is...concerning."

"And then he pulls the most Jack-shaped card ever and sings about how he's going to fly in his magic sleigh because he's the king?"

"EXCUSE you, are you making fun of me, your delightful older brother, in the midst of your Rudolph imposed crisis?"

"No fucking shit Mister North Pole, North Pole."

Jack put his hands up. "Alright, fine. I'll give you that one. But I WILL remember it."

"I look forward to the ensuing snowball which I will surely dodge."

"That'll be the day," Jack chuckled, leaning to the right as snow flew right past his left, landing with a splat on the wall across them. "Do you mind? That wallpaper is ancient!"

"Just like you!"

Jack frowned, grumbling to himself as he took another sip of his drink. "I will kick you out, Jacqueline."

"Nooo don't!! I have so much to say about Rudolph Jack, come on. Come on. You GOTTA hear what I have to say. I'm just so—" her hands stilled for a moment, hovering just in front of her face as she sought out a word— "BOGGLED by it and so mad, you HAVE to hear my ranting and raving PRETTY please, it's the LEAST you could do after the whole North Pole, North Pole thing."

Jack snickered, taking another sip and crossing one leg over the other. "Alright little flurry, out with it. Let's hear this critic rave."

"THANK you! OKAY RIGHT SO LIKE. He's born with this glowing red nose, and his dad's immediate solution after Santa says he's not gonna make the team is to COVER HIS NOSE. WITH DIRT. TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE A REGULAR OLD NOSE. Jack. There's no WAY he could breath through that thing, no FUCKING way! And you know, his mom was all 'we can learn to overlook it' which isn't really ACCEPTANCE but like, it's BETTER than being like HEY LET'S FUCKING HIDE IT AND TELL THIS KID HE ISN'T NORMAL AND MAKE HIM CONFORM UNCOMFORTABLY. OH? HE CAN'T BREATH? WELL! GUESS HE'LL DIE!"

Jack found himself laughing softly to himself. "You. You're really fired up about this."

"I AM! And I don't know WHY!"

"Is it maybe because—"

"We're not psychoanalyzing this, Jack."

"Just ranting?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, don't let me stop you."

"Oh, I won't." She took a long drag of her drink before continuing like nothing had happened. "So THEN he goes to the reindeer games and is like, the TOP of his class. He's THE ace. The reindeer that was teaching them was like YOU'LL MAKE THE TEAM IN NO TIME and you can practically HEAR Donner chortling in the background because it seems like he's got some kind of ISSUES about leading Santa's sleigh that he's projecting onto Rudolph, but that's a subject for another time! So he's rocking these reindeer games and then his PROSTHETIC NOSE comes off and suddenly it's all HAHA LOSER G-T-F-O YOU'RE NOT MAKING THE TEAM. Like really? Does Santa care THAT much about reindeer aesthetic? I mean, LOOK AT THE MAN!"

Jack snorted into his drink, whipped cream poofing right off the top and onto the counter. "HA! Get his ass, Jacquie. The man has NO sense of style! I saw him in jeans the other day, and let me tell you. Nightmare scenario."

Jacqueline laughed. "It can't be that bad."

"He was going for Canadian lumberjack chic and he was WAY OFF THE MARK."

"B-Man was telling me the other day that apparently he has this embroidered blazer?"

"His initials embroidered in gold, Jacqueline. GOLD. On the most GARISH red. He claims it's the same colour as the jacket! It's not. It's the red artists WARN YOU about."

"Like Rudolph's nose?"

"Excuse me, who's being mean to a literal baby now?"

"Okay well in my defence, it is A) a colour comparison and B) at this point in the movie he is one year old which is APPARENTLY old enough to run away."

"Well that escalated quickly."

"I mean, he met this girl who was like 'oh, I think you're perfect just the way you are—" Jacqueline spoke in a high falsetto, folding her hands and fluttering her eyelashes for a brief moment. Jack chuckled, swallowing it when she suddenly SLAMMED her hands onto the counter top. "—and BAM. HER DAD FINDS OUT AND SAYS NO DOE OF HIS WILL BE WITH A RED NOSED REINDEER!"

"Ou, ouch."

"Right? I'd run away too. So! Off he fucks with the elf that wants to be a dentist and is ostracized for it, and a prospector who has literally NO IDEA WHERE THE GOLD RUSH IS. He's like 'this south of the Hudson's Bay!' and I'm like 'sir, your grasp of geography is troubling. I'm pretty sure you're north since you ran into these guys at the NORTH FUCKING POLE! And then they get to the ISLAND of MISFIT TOYS. AND ARE TOLD THAT THEY ARE TOO MISFIT TO BE THERE. THIS GUY JUST CAN'T CATCH A BREAK!"

"And nor can you!"

"I KNOW you're being sarcastic but I'm taking it seriously because I am having a moment. Need a top off?"

"I'm going to need something a lot stronger if I have to keep listening to this." Sliding off the stool, Jack made his way behind the bar, shoving Jacqueline down the counter as he rummaged around for the good whisky. Since, you know. She had used the whisky glasses for this chocolate...thing.

"Felt," Jacqueline agreed, watching as Jack rinsed the glass and poured his preferred drink. She smiled to herself when he reached for her tumbler and topped her off, passing her the whipped cream can.

"And can you pass the sprinkles?"

They slid down the counter, gently bonking into her glass.

"Thank you! You're the best!"

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, you're the best."

"Care to say that one more time?"

"What, can't hear in your old age? Don't push it, Jack," she served him with an icy look worthy of Winter herself, managing to hold it just long enough before a grin split her face, eyes crinkling at the corners as she swayed into him.

"Alright, alright," Jack conceded, swaying back. "So. Island of Misfit Toys."

"Right! Yeah! So they get told they CAN'T stay there, except for maybe a night, and maybe could you please tell Santa about us? And they agree to if they ever go back to the Pole which to be honest, I wouldn't if I was treated like THAT. And then RUDOLPH runs AWAY from the other misfits because of the YETI?!?!?!?! Wilding. I didn't think yetis were that bad. The ones at home seem pretty chill, and make a mean snow cone."

"Lots of groups are perfectly pleasant but have one bad apple. Maybe the yeti is the bad apple of the yetis in the movie? Why am I entertaining this?"

"Because you love your lil' sister? Because alcohol? Because snow business today has been impossible and this is leagues better than work? Because fuck El Niño events? Because it's four in the morning and we're both operating on like zero sleep thanks to that funky lil' guy?"

"And instead of sleeping when you finished you got mad about Rudolph."

"I mean. YES but it was ACCIDENTAL! I fully intended to sleep on the couch as it played but then Donner opened his stupid reindeer mouth and now I need to yell! Lady above, do you know what the WORST PART about this WHOLE THING is?"

"What?"

"At the END of the movie they're all like 'we're cool with this red nosed reindeer thing now' which is one thing. But then there's the OTHER THING. Which is that the MOMENT Santa goes OH! RUDOLPH! YOUR NOSE! And he leads the sleigh through an absolutely brilliant snowstorm, everyone's like woo! Yay! He's USEFUL to SOCIETY! And fucking DONNER. HE'S LIKE 'I KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU THE ENTIRE TIME, BOY!' Um, HELLO?! NO HE DID NOT! FORTY MINUTES EARLIER HE WAS LAMENTING THAT HE'D NEVER MAKE THE TEAM BECAUSE OF HIS NOSE AND TRYING TO ERASE IT FROM EXISTENCE!"

Jacqueline sighed, looking down at the liquid in her glass. She swirled her cup, the liquid whooshing about, the whipped cream barely moving. Jack waited a beat, swirling his own glass and conjuring extra ice when the clink didn't sound clinky enough.

"I'm sad about snow business this year."

Ah. There it was.

"Oh?"

Jacqueline nodded. "This time last year, we shut down the 401, Jack. We inconvenienced ALL of Eastern Ontario. It was great. It was gorgeous. Now? All I was able to do was freeze the puddles in the cracks and dents in the road because of all the rain. RAIN. IN DECEMBER." she huffed, blowing the little flyaway hairs off of her brow.

Jack shifted into a lean, surveying his sister closely. He sniffed. He took a sip of his drink. Swirled the ice cubes. Enjoyed the delightful clink. "You know, Jacqueline...we've still got three more months of winter left."

She perked up a bit.

"By all accounts and purposes, we're only just getting started. At least I am." He shifted his weight again, pulling back his jacket and propping his hand on his hip. "You ah, giving up that easy this season?"

"Give up? Give UP?!" lively now, she shot up, looking aghast. "I haven't given UP. I've just. Y'know. Hit a bit of a snag and gotten a little stuck on Rudolph is all."

"That's the spirit! Now, December may be ending on a warmer note. And yes, it's maddeningly frustrating. But January is just around the corner and there will be plenty of opportunity to whip up one hell of a snowstorm. We may not close the highways again, but I'm hoping for a good amount of slipping and sliding and snow STAYING on the ground. Sound good?"

"Good? GOOD? It sounds AMAZING. Absolutely delightful! IDEAL, to be honest."

"There we go! Don't let December get you down just yet! It's almost over! January is right around the corner and so is our wintry weather! We just have to wait a bit. I mean, if we want. We can keep trying for snow, of course! I think a few flurries can manage the temps. But only after a good. Night's. Rest," he poked her shoulder on each of the last three words, satisfied when she laughed a little.

"I GUESS I could benefit from some sleep."

"Then maybe you'd be less of a, what was it you said the other day? Sad sack?"

"I did say that, yes."

"And then you could go flurry crazy right across the hemisphere!"

"That sounds very fun."

"Mmm, doesn't it just? So, how about this: you can stay the night here since I know you're going to ask anyway and you've practically got a second closet going in the second spare room—"

"It's just so easy to stop in Gstaad while doing the rounds! It's, like, central! And so pretty."

"—you know what I'm hearing? I'm hearing it's free real estate, Jack. I should charge you rent."

"There's no need for that! You can crash at my place any time. You know. Once it's in shape enough for metaphorical crashing, not. Not literal crashing. We're having floorboard issues, so we've gotta repair a bunch and then like, lacquer them, or something? Dite was explaining it to me but it went in one ear and right out the other. She looked real cute in the paint stained overalls and I was hella distracted about it."

"I believe the term you're looking for is sealant."

"Sure. If you say so."

Jack blinked. "Right. Anyway! You can stay the night, we'll go out for some breaki in the morning and after that how about some flurries, hmm?"

"They are my specialty!"

"And in the meantime! Since we've got these drinks to finish. How about something...less rage inducing, hmm?"

"Santa Claus is Comin' to Town?"

"If we must."

"I'll go grab my boxed set!"

Before Jack could say anything, she poofed away. He frowned, waving some snow off the counter top just in time for her to reappear and flurry all over it again, flourishing what looked to be a DVD boxed set of all the Rankin Bass specials.

"Keep doing this after a day of no sleep and you'll be well on your way to a sprite sleep."

"No I won't! I'm too excited to sleep."

Jack smiled to himself, pushing off the counter top and gesturing her towards the flat screen. "Some things never change," he murmured, shooing her forward. "You know what makes those old stop motion films so great?"

"What?"

"The way they tell the story using the song. And the staging! Of puppets! Jules's background was actually more musically inclined, and it showed. You know, without his musical expertise, I bet that the films wouldn't be NEARLY as classic as they're considered to be today."

Jacqueline laughed. "You would know that."

"That and many other things! Now then! Let's watch, shall we? Angry flurries aren't as nice as cheery flurries."

Grabbing a fuzzy throw blanket that Jack definitely didn't put on the couch (didn't even remember buying, in fact), Jacqueline bundled up, settling in. "You're the boss!"

#SO I WATCHED RUDOLPH THE OTHER NIGHT AND HAD SOME THOUGHTS #AND JACQUELINE. OF COURSE. TOOK THE REIGNS. AS SHE IS WONT TO DO.#and the first bit of this happened before i passed out #so NOW i have REWATCHED RUDOLPH and tided it up to give you CONTENT #since i have been lacking in that the past two weeks #and this one was silly with some silly moments and the like i HAD to share it #idk what the end point was. sometimes fluff can just be fluff!#fluff can just be fluff!#crystal springs #smile shots #dani writes #cold front #the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #jack frost #tsc jack frost #ocs #fanfic #jacqueline frost #upon finishing a day later i learnt that the warm December and lack of snow apparently got jacquie down as bad as me #i love writing 🥰🥰🥰#love when fluff for the sake of fluff turns into comfort and HEALS ✨✨✨#WE LOVE TO SEE THE COLD FRONT PLOTTING VICTORIES #also. an aside. i got a boxed set of the complete rankin bass collection last year #and i learnt soo much from the bts #it was AMAZING #made me go 'huh. jack WOULD love these movies. cribmas themes aside'#this is the spiritual sequel to the smile shot movie night lol #ANYWAY ENJOY #I HOPE IT BRINGS YOU JOY.

7 notes · View notes