omg another ask game hehehe thank you for the tag @asyndetonic!!
1) Origins of your blog’s name
sparassis is a mushroom! the english name is a cauliflower mushroom bc it looks like a cauliflower. i have found it in the PNW and it’s so cool. i love mushrooms/foraging in general as i have said way too many times on here lol, plus the first letter of sparassis is the first letter of my name. but someone else’s blog has the actual spelling of this lol so i had to get creative. i'm the temu knockoff
2) My ‘I’ll always order this food’
uhh i haven’t been anywhere to order something in years lol but a safe bet is anything with tofu ⬜️
3) Overused emoji
mostly same as @asyndetonic lol 😭 ❤️ 🥺 and i also use lol and lmao waaay too much but such is the internet lmao…….. oops i did it again
4) Current comfort movie, show, book
well i just watched Tommy with @seaweed-water which is not necessary a comfort movie lmao, it’s actually a bit traumatic but the original Tommy album by The Who is comforting to me. so i’m including that lmao because i don’t watch a lot these days
for tv it’s seinfeld or schitt’s creek; book i’m gonna say @seaweed-water’s fic Devil Town (this totally counts ok. i downloaded it to ibooks, therefore it is a book)
5) Song on Repeat
the songs that have been on repeat in my head for many many years are “the long and winding road” by the beatles and “…and counting (acoustic)” by lights. they are my calming comfort songs
6) My last hyperfixation
hahaha same with asyndetonic; teen wolf, heated rivalry, and also learning to sing properly if that counts as a hyperfixation (it does, based on the amount of youtube vids i’ve watched about it) oh and dan and phil, always (if you’re reading this pls come talk to me about dnp)
7) Oddly specific thing that brings me joy
plushies, soft things, cute things. sorry this isn’t specific. ok a wolf plushie similar to what @queer-stilinski wrote a cute fic about the other day <3 how many times will i mention this wolf plushie idk but i love it and so should you
8) What smell instantly makes me happy
brownies, maple syrup, banana muffins, petrichor, the forest/mushrooms/earth
9) Something I loved as a kid that I secretly still do
………plushies, animals, fairies
10) Phone wallpaper right now
this forest that has been my wallpaper for years <3 (i did not take the pic but omg can you imagine)
11) Are you an Early Bird, Night Owl, or something else?
neither, none, nothing lol. midday? whenever i happen to be functional? i get up early but that doesn’t mean i’m functional then lmao
hope this was interesting to read lol, i never know who actually reads these from me. i like answering them though, very self-indulgent hehe. tagging the aforementioned @seaweed-water and @queer-stilinski, and @hedwig221b! <3
thank you for the ask!!! ok so! do you ever have earworms of stiles or derek's names. (stay with me here) like when i am anxious and ruminating over something i try to break the thought loops and my mind just says stiles or derek over and over to cut through the stress. so that's what the fic is about. sterek do that with each other. it's a 5+1 fic with awkward situations that they want to get out of but the other isn't right there with them. so all they can do is think of each other's names to try and ground each other. it's very sweet and cute and ends with smut hehe
here is the first part:
Stiles and Derek have this thing. It didn’t evolve overnight, but steadily, until they started to wonder what their brains were like before they got together at all.
It’s not just the typical thinking about you; though there’s plenty of that going on as well. When Stiles is in class, about fifty percent of his thoughts are on Derek at all times. Maybe fifty five. Sometimes even seventy, or a hundred if he’s bored. A hundred and ten if he’s bored and horny. Sometimes he wishes he weren’t in college at all, just so he has more time to think of Derek and, obviously, be with Derek.
When Derek’s at the shop, he’s the same way. Fixing cars is second nature to him by now, so Stiles takes up about eighty percent of his brain. He can be talking to a customer and thinking of Stiles, speaking to a coworker and thinking of Stiles, buried completely under a car, fixing it and thinking of Stiles.
But it’s the times in between, when they’re not supposed to be thinking of each other, where they’re supposed to be present and working and focusing, that their minds still stray.
It becomes like an earworm, but with words instead of music. One word in particular.
Derek’s claws reach out for Stiles like a lifeline.
The hunters hold him back and he writhes and snarls in their grip. Stiles’ face across from him in the forest is a mirror of his own, desperate and haunted and terrified, angry and wild. They reach for each other, but it’s fruitless; they’re too far apart, and the men are dragging Stiles backwards, away from Derek, further and further from him.
Derek roars, spit flying everywhere and sharp teeth snapping at the hunters surrounding him, but his red eyes stay glued to his mate. He thrashes, Stiles’ cries and yells echoing in his ears over the sound of his own rapid heartbeat.
At last he turns around in the hunters’ grasp, intending to slash their throats out with a swipe of his claws, but a needle plunges into his own neck, and his world fades to black.
The last thing he hears is the mournful, harrowed, desperate sound of his own name on Stiles’ lips.
The forest goes dark around him.
*
Long fingers stroke through Derek’s hair. His head is pillowed on something soft, and everything is nice and warm for a moment.
“You with me, big guy?”
Stiles’ voice is familiar and soothing in his ear. It sounds rough and wet, but it’s Stiles. His scent is off as well, and Derek furrows his brow as his senses start to come back to him.
Slowly, his attention draws towards his body, and a sense of pain starts to build. It’s tingling at first, then sharper, then burning, and at last he opens his eyes with a start as his limbs feel like they’re on fire, scorching and aching all the way down to the bone.
Stiles pets his cheek and temple in a comforting motion as Derek tries to curl in on himself, closer to Stiles, his face pressing into Stiles’ abdomen where he’s laying in his lap.
“It’s wolfsbane,” Stiles murmurs to him, his gentle strokes on his face unrelenting and anchoring. “They injected you with it, and locked us in a cellar. I don’t know what they want,” Stiles explains, voice breaking though he tries to be strong.
“Does it hurt?” Stiles asks, even though he already knows the answer.
Derek nods into his shirt, squeezing his eyes shut again as he clutches Stiles closer, moving an aching arm to hold him around his waist.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles mourns, fingers sinking back into his hair, “There’s nothing I can do from here. I don’t have anything to get it out, to get us out. I don’t fucking know what to do, Derek.” His breathing is ragged and sharp, and when Derek peeks up at him from his lap, there are tear streaks on Stiles’ face.
“It’s okay,” Derek whispers, trying to provide any type of comfort despite the incredible pain he’s in. Stiles looks unharmed for the most part, but his face is dirty and raw with a few scratches, nothing too deep, which Derek is relieved to note.
He can feel himself fading, though. Awakening from the blackness only to feel it pulling him under again too soon.
“Stiles,” he mumbles, lips barely moving. Stiles bends his head to hear him, and a tear lands on Derek’s face, but whether it’s his own or Stiles’, he isn’t sure. “Stiles. I lo—“
“Don’t say it,” Stiles rushes, cutting him off, “You’re not gonna die here, you’re not allowed. I don’t want the first time you say it to be in some musty basement when you’re— when you’re— fuck, Derek, just stay with me, you have to—“
Stiles' words fade away along with the pain in Derek’s body, the rushing in his ears, Stiles’ too-fast heartbeat and the scent of his panic. It all disappears until Derek’s left floating, unaware of anything except the feeling of Stiles’ love still around him. He sinks into nothingness, and it’s bliss.
*
“He will awaken when his body is healed enough,” Deaton says calmly, irritatingly, as Stiles paces around the vet’s office, unable to take his eyes off Derek laying there too quietly, too unmovingly on the cold metal table. It can’t be comfortable, Derek deserves to be warm and taken care of—
“Are you sure you got it all out?” Stiles asks, observing a vial of violet liquid on the countertop, the remains of the aconite poisoning Deaton was able to remove from Derek’s bloodstream. He’s still jittery, anxious. Derek’s been unconscious for too long. He was barely breathing when the Sheriff found them, and the adrenaline from the pure relief Stiles felt at their rescue is still thrumming through his veins.
“Yes, Stiles,” Deaton tries to reassure, but it only irks Stiles, the man not understanding just how much Derek means to him, how essential it is that he be safe and unharmed. “You’re welcome to wait here with him until he wakes up. I have other matters to attend to in the meantime,” he adds. “And Stiles?”
Stiles tears his eyes away from Derek at last and looks over to Deaton, who’s standing in the doorway.
“He’ll be okay.” The words of consolation are rare from Deaton, and don’t do much to quell Stiles’ nerves, but he appreciates them nonetheless.
Stiles nods and makes himself finally settle down on to the stool beside the table. Deaton closes the door behind him, and he and Derek are alone again.
“Hey, big guy,” Stiles whispers as he takes Derek’s hand in his own. He cups it between both of his and his grip is tight, desperate. “Think you can wake up for me?” His voice is shaky and raw.
Derek twitches, but otherwise doesn’t move. Stiles doesn’t know how long this is supposed to take, or if what Deaton did worked at all. But there is no way in hell Stiles is leaving this building till he knows Derek is alright. Even if it takes all night, a day, a month. A year. Stiles will stay by Derek’s side forever.
Hours tick by. Deaton checks on them again before he leaves for the day, and Stiles only shakes his head in response. He leaves the lights on and closes the door behind him, leaving Stiles and Derek alone in the vet’s office for the night. John is supposed to come by at some point, but Stiles doesn’t know when. Time doesn’t exist right now.
He doesn’t let himself fall asleep. Commits to staring at Derek’s face and taking it in, memorizing it, just— just in case.
At long last, when Stiles’ pulse continues to rise and anxiety still swirls in his stomach like eels, Derek stirs.
“Fuck,” Stiles lets out in relief on a heavy, sharp sigh, gripping Derek’s hand again. "Der?"
Derek blinks his eyes open. They're clear, and beautiful, and his face is clean of blood and poison, and Stiles stands over him and grips his hand, and cries.
He can't get any words out as he cups Derek's face, brushes his hair back, kisses him all over. Derek clings back, holds Stiles to him. His last memory was dying in the cellar. Where it was dark and damp and smelled like fear. He didn't want to leave Stiles behind, couldn't bear it, especially before he told him—
"I love you," Derek whispers.
Stiles breaks down in his arms as he loses it completely. The sheer relief he feels at knowing Derek is okay, alive, safe with him at last. He shakes as he climbs onto the metal table and wraps himself around his mate, and Derek clutches back with the same relief.
"I love you too," Stiles whispers to him when he can form words again. He lets his lips rest on Derek's temple for second, before Derek turns his head to meet his lips.
"I know," he says when they part, with a soothing hand over Stiles' back. They gaze at each other, with deep affection, dependency and love. Stiles snorts a wet laugh through his tears and lays his head back down against Derek's neck, nuzzling. "Stay with me," Derek says seriously after a moment, his arms tightening around Stiles as his hands continue to stroke and calm.
Stiles' response is honest, and immediate. He meets Derek's eyes and speaks easily, calmly, lovingly.
Sterek au meet cute where Stiles is a ups or Amazon delivery driver or something and every day he drives his route, delivering packages, and he knows literally every dog on the street, like he knows the one at the house with the rose bushes got bad hips but loves attention so he gotta go up the steps to pet her, the golden at the 2 storey house with the bikes in the driveway loves to sleep on the bench near the door and will roll over and potentially fall off to get tummy rubs, he knows that one pitbull with the massive head who looks terrifying but does full body wiggles he gets so excited when he sees Stiles van pull up, he knows em all.
One day Stiles gets a package to deliver to a big house on the outside of town that's rather quiet, never had to deliver anything to them before, but he pulls up, scanner in hand, package under his arm, and there's a massive... dog? A big black German shepherd maybe? Maybe a husky mix? Laying on the porch, right in front of the door. This isn't Stiles first rodeo (obviously), he knows not all dogs are friendly, so he approaches cautiously, announcing himself while still in safe fleeing distance of his van. The big black dog (?) lifts its head and watches him with an even gaze. It's not wagging, or looking any kind or specifically friendly, but it's also not growling or raising hackles, actually looks kinda relaxed. Just completely neutral. So he keeps talking. "hey big guy, I got a package for your house, just gotta drop it off, okay? Is that okay? Are you friendly? Please don't bite me, I like my insides as insides. You like my insides staying inside too, yeah? Not gunna eat me? We good?" The most he gets is an ear flick, but he's been getting closer the entire time.
This German shepherd maybe/husky/apparently part bear thing is huge, it almost looks like a wolf, but Stiles knows there's no wolves in California. Haven't been for decades. He drops the package next to the door, scans it, takes a photo for proof, steps back, and decides to test his luck. He reaches a hand out to let the dog (?) sniff him. The dog (?) doesn't. Stiles pets the dog (?) between the ears. "Good boy" and turns around to go back to his van. The dog (?) watches him go silently. Stiles gets back in he van and drives back down the road, back to the rest of town and the rest of his deliveries. Derek, still unmoved from his place on the porch, watches him go and thinks "I AM a good boy"
omg thank you @fullshiftderek for the tag!! doing this tonight because tomorrow i'm posting a fic so i'll be down a wip lol. i only have 2.5 atm. they're actually all done i just haven't posted them yet. the .5 is only a small headcanon thing i was gonna post but i'm still counting it lol
Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!
underground
stuck in my head
licking
no pressure tagging @queer-stilinski, @ahhhnorealnamesallowed and @heavensenthale because i know you guys have great things coming. also anyone else who wants to participate go right ahead!! 💕
btw if you are friends with someone and you have the kind of dynamic where you can tease each other you also need to be nice. just so we're all aware. you also have to be nice with your words on top of it. like with your words. use your words. you should tell them with your words when you like something about them. if you are scared of being too sincere or vulnerable that is not an excuse to not be nice to someone. also you should work on that. ok are we all on the same page
