F/O: I'm cold.
S/I: Here, take my jacket.
(Later that day)
S/I: I'm cold.
F/O, all nice and cozy in S/I's jacket: I can't control the weather, S/I.
seen from Germany
seen from Spain
seen from Canada
seen from Canada

seen from Spain
seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia
seen from Spain
seen from New Zealand
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from China

seen from China
seen from China
seen from Spain

seen from Australia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
F/O: I'm cold.
S/I: Here, take my jacket.
(Later that day)
S/I: I'm cold.
F/O, all nice and cozy in S/I's jacket: I can't control the weather, S/I.
on this cold winter’s night.
prompt: shaking and shivering (bthb) / warm (gthb) fandom: scary stories to tell in the dark characters: sarah bellows, verna bellows au: project verna warnings: mentioned child abuse, cold
The ragged, worn blanket isn’t enough to keep Sarah warm. She pulls it tighter around herself, curls tighter, and tries to keep herself warm, but it’s not use. The cold of the basement saps any ounce of warmth she can muster. At this point she should be used to it, having spent many a cold night in this dark little room. But something about tonight’s cold is different. Harsher. The thin blanket her family gave her, or rather, allowed her, isn’t enough to keep the cold out. Layering is equally useless; a second blanket is only a small bit heavier than the first. Sarah feels the warmth return to her body for a moment, and then it’s gone.
Every moment she can’t get warm is a moment her extremities hurt a little bit more.
“Aunt Verna,” she whimpers to a dark, empty room. “Aunt Verna…”
Stiles has linked his hands around Scott’s shoulder, is holding his core tight as he can to lessen some of Scott’s load. Scott’s hand is like a brand against his knee, his arm a comforting support beneath his legs. Scott’s other arm is just under Stiles’ shoulder-blades, his thumb rubbing gentle circles at the curve of bone there. Stiles’ nose is running and his head’s swimming and his muscles ache all over.
Scott gazes down at him, brown eyes warm and soft. Stiles stares back; thinks he could get lost in their depths if given half the chance.
“It’s okay. I got you. You’ll be tucked up in bed soon, safe and sound.”
“It’s just a cold,” Stiles snuffles back.
“Want me to set you down again?”
Stiles clings tighter. “No. Not even a little.”
Scott presses a kiss against his damp forehead. As they’ve been talking he’s climbed a couple stairs. “Then pipe down and let me take care of you.”
Stiles sighs as best as his seizing chest allows and rubs his head into Scott’s shoulder. He enjoys the sensation of being wrapped around Scott -- his to hold and protect. He isn’t nearly as embarrassed as he initially claimed, being carried bridal-style by Scott.
When he’s placed carefully on his bed, he blinks up at Scott and holds his hands out, makes little grabby motions. “I won’t keep you all day, but think you could sit with me for a bit?” he asks through his blocked nose and raspy throat.
“Of course,” Scott says, lying next to Stiles, pressing against his side. He strokes one hand up Stiles’ arm, delicate and soothing. “This better?”
“It’s so good,” Stiles says. He presses a wet kiss to Scott’s jaw. “You’re my best friend.”
“Yeah I am.”
“And also my very sexy boyfriend.”
“That too.”
“And I don’t tell you enough how much I love you.”
“You tell me almost every day.”
“I still want you to know I love you the most.”
Scott smiles, caresses Stiles’ cheek as he reaches for a tissue. “You have a gigantic snot bubble coming from your left nostril, and somehow this is still one of the most romantic moments of my life.”
so i deffo have a cold *throws self off cliff*
its veeeeerrrrryyyy tiny at the moment, a little tickle in my throat, a tiny drippy nose, a little upset tummy, but. im soooooo not in the mood to be sick. im the opposite of in the mood to be sick. so im trying to do stuff thats good for you while yr sick, getting lots of rest, i drank a whole bottle of pomegranate juice and i ate a pomegranate fruit leather thing, im drinking also other kinds of juice((watered down. my throat will kill me if i drink anything not watered down)), my mom made me some REALLY good bacon this morning after i slept in, i have a box of tissues. everything is great. i mean, everything sucks cause im kinda sick, but,