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teencopandthesourwolf · 1 year ago

Text

LOVE YEW

on ao3 HERE

“Here!”

Stiles slams something down on the coffee table to the left of Derek's (Stiles's) laptop.

Derek is searching online, only a little psychotically, in the hope of finding a store that sells these very specific organic coffee beans he tried in a hipster coffee house recently. Derek isn't a hipster—he isn't—he just likes nice coffee, is all. Really, he should have asked the barista to find out not just the brand name but their supplier's address too because this is driving him insane. Maybe he is insane? More likely just incredibly shit at the internet, but he thinks he'd prefer to plead insanity if challenged.

Derek unknits his eyebrows and looks down at… a green thing. It's sort of feather shaped and has many spindles with bronzed edges.

It's a leaf.

His eyebrows knit themselves back together as he blinks down at the thing a couple of times.

“It's a leaf,” he says, because he doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

Then he looks up—and back and forth at Stiles who is now pacing the apartment and alternating between clicking his fingers and flicking his thumbs and shaking his arms out at the sides of his body; his stimming can get pretty extra when he's anxious.

Derek's frown deepens with immediate concern. He must've really been deep in it with the infuriating Google searching to not have noticed the smell of Stiles's distress when his mate first arrived home.

“Hey, what's—”

“Yes, Derek, it's a leaf. It is a leaf that I brought all the way home. For you. From the cemetery.”

He's still pacing.

“Okay, well do you want to tell me—“

“It's an Apology Leaf. Obviously.”

Obviously.

“And, Derek, do not laugh, because—"

“I won't but could you just—“

“—this isn't funny. I'm ridiculous, I know, and I know that that's funny. But this? This is decidedly deeply unfunny, alright? This is totally not at all funny, Derek. It's like, a thing without one tiny ounce of humour in it, as in not the slightest bit funny in a gazillion sombre years. Do you hear me?” He inhales deeply, holds the breath, then blows it out harshly via puffed-out cheeks as he clicks and flails some more.

Derek hears Stiles and is of course prepared to wait for him to explain whatever this is, because Derek would wait for Stiles until the end of time, if he had to. Although that's not likely a thing to happen in any reality as this is Stiles who can't go for longer than fifteen seconds without talking. But still, Derek thinks it's the sentiment that counts.

“You, Derek Hale, are good, and someone as good as you deserves somebody far, far better than a ratbag like me. Hence the leaf,” Stiles now tells him in a rush of even more confusing words, his chemo-signals tinged with shame for some worrying reason Derek is yet to discern.

Stiles glances over anxiously from his place of animated, mysterious penance—and then looks away again just as quickly while still trying to wear footprints into the recently painted varnish on the wooden floor of their new apartment.

Derek is clueless as to the cause of Stiles's meltdown, but neither things are a first. Stiles struggles sometimes—just like Derek does, who has plenty of his own outbursts (albeit more moody than vocal) that Stiles has to Private Dick his way through.

Derek is also trying his best not to worry too much about thinking that this is somehow his fault, so now sets his mind on attempting to marry these seemingly unrelated things in his head.

He thinks about the facts he's been presented with:

What is, at an educated guess, a Pacific Yew leaf.

and

Stiles's rather unhinged and self-deprecating dig at himself-slash-compliment for Derek.

...Yeah, no, he's not getting better at this game any time soon.

“Uh,” he says helpfully, and Stiles rolls his eyes in that Do I really have to do everything myself around here? way of his which, rude.

Good job Derek loves the kook.

“It was just sitting there, on top of my mom's gravestone when I got there,” Stiles says quietly, incredulously, gesturing at the innocuous leaf.

Then he's off again with the pacing.

“And I knew, straight away, I knew,” he says, getting louder again and laughing in this accusatory sort of way, pointing somewhere into the ether, eyes manic.

Derek scratches his nose. He hopes he will soon know, too, because honestly, he's kind of blindfolded in the dark here.

“She was obviously telling me what a dipshit I was! What a douche I am! A massive ass-hat! Total loser!”

“I mean, that's mostly fair, but maybe total loser is a little strong.” Derek will often speak Stiles's language when Stiles is freaking out, using humour to try and ground him.

Stiles carries on as if Derek hadn’t said anything.

“And I was like, Come on, mom, give me a break, will you? and she was like Seriously, Mischief? You really wouldn't let the special person in your life, your special little guy—”

“You can just say boyfriend, Stiles.”

“—come with you to the cemetery to visit me? Like, as if with that leaf she was reminding me that you are the one person who actually gets this shit, which, I do know. Of fucking course I know. And then—get this—I swear to God, Derek, I felt her literally slapping me upside the head! No fucking word of a lie, man. Like, thousands wouldn't believe me. Millions. They'd say that it must have been the wind or my incredibly vivid imagination. But I know, Der. I know that it was her,” Stiles continues with the confession without stopping for breath.

Derek has thought it before and he'll think it again: the kid's lung capacity is seriously impressive.

“And I also know that I totally should've said yes when you asked me if I wanted you to come with me to the cemetery this morning. Because the thing is, I did want you to. I really, really did. But I just… I just…”

Stiles starts slapping himself on the forehead with both his hands and Derek has had enough of that already. He gets up off the sofa and walks over to Stiles, catching those slim wrists in his grip, gentle yet firm.

“Please don't,” Derek says, imploring Stiles to stop. Derek can understand frustration, but can't stand Stiles hurting himself.

Stiles deflates a little. He then takes a step towards Derek and leans in, resting his forehead against Derek's, their noses lining up like penguins.

“I just—I should have said yes to you when you asked because I honestly, truthfully wanted you there. It's just that I've only ever been there with my Dad. And even then, not as many times as you might think. Not even Scotty has been there with me. It's just a place—it's usually something I do alone. You know?” Stiles' front teeth worry at his pretty lip.

And yes, Derek does know.

So he says, “Because you feel guilt, right? Even though there isn't a thing in this universe or any other that you should feel guilty about.”

Guilt just for being alive.

Slightly cross-eyed with the proximity and angle, Stiles looks at Derek in a way that says he knows just how much Derek knows about this stuff.

“Yeah. Yes, exactly. And I guess I didn't know how to be that with somebody else around.”

“But Stiles, that's completely—”

“No, Der. It isn't, actually. Because you're not just somebody else. It's you. And I'm in love with you.” Stiles finally takes a breath while Derek's heart is busy swelling to twice it's size. He will never tire of hearing Stiles Stilinski say those words to him. “And I absolutely should've trusted in that. In us.”

It is, of course, completely fine that Stiles went to the cemetery alone to visit his mother, but Derek also gets where the kid is coming from. He too takes a breath, now, a big one, because this kind of stuff doesn't come as easily for him as it does Stiles.

He swallows his nerves and pushes on.

“I love you, Stiles. And it's alright that we're not perfect. Neither of us are. Us—you and me—we're both just… Finding our way.”

After a moment, Stiles adds, “Together.”

They smile at each other like huge dorks.

“Yeah.” Derek breathes, and his heart might just burst.

Derek scents Stiles, and Stiles breathes deeply too, now. “Thanks,” he says, then Derek kisses him, just as deep and for a long while, because it's his favourite thing to do in the whole damn world.

Eventually Derek pulls back, runs a thumb over Stiles's mouth and says, “You know what?”

Stiles's brow lifts inquisitively.

Derek lets go of Stiles's wrist and takes his hand instead, leading him back to the sofa and sitting them both down squarely by the coffee table where he had been sat fruitlessly Googling not so long ago.

“I believe you,” Derek says.

Stiles frowns. “Huh?” It's his turn to be confused.

“Millions wouldn't, but I believe you, Stiles. About your mom.”

He reaches across and picks up the Apology Leaf, cradling it for a brief moment in his palm before nudging at Stiles's hand and urging him to take it, which he does.

Derek then grabs the laptop, side-eyeing his previous Google search—WHO NEAR ME SELLS PHOENIX ROAST ORGANIC COFFEE BEANS THAT TASTE LIKE HOME—and forcing himself not to get instantly sucked back into that particularly vexing nightmare, while also trying his best to angle the screen away from Stiles who, if he saw, would fall off the sofa laughing at Derek's admittedly pathetic research skills.

Not everybody is a… Technophile? Cyberpunk? Derek has no fucking clue about any of this shit.

With Stiles now passing comment on the aesthetic qualities of the Apology Leaf, Derek uses both index fingers to tap out the words of the thing he wants to look up, taking no notice of Stiles who is trying his annoying not-very-best to smirk at Derek's sorry efforts in Derek's periphery. Clicking through a few different links, this time Derek manages to find what he's after without any trouble, amazingly. He then hands the laptop over to Stiles, who carefully places the leaf down on the arm of the sofa beside him before fully taking the computer from Derek.

Stiles purses those pretty lips of his as he scans the information on screen, squinting a little.

“Uh, well yeah. It's like you said, Der; It's a leaf. From a Yew, according to this.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Your mother's ghost is infinitely more clever than you.” Stiles's squint deepens further. “Stiles, she is absolutely spot on about this. Just—scroll down the page a bit, dumbass,” and he ducks his head and smiles, seeing as accusing Stiles of Internet-related Dumbassery is really fucking funny because, irony.

Stiles tuts but does as he's told.

Derek gives him a minute to read the passage on the website he found. It says:

The Yew tree can live for many, many years. It has deep connections with magic and the universe. It was regarded as the protector of the soul by the ancient Greeks. You’ll find this tree planted at many burial sites throughout the world as it’s recognized as a guardian of the dead.

It is believed that Odin (from the Nordic legend) hung himself from the Yew for nine days and nights. It’s symbolic of its everlasting and regenerative properties and is often associated with transformation and change after a difficult time. The Celtic tradition honours the Yew tree for symbolising death and rebirth.

Stiles is smiling this gorgeous, open smile by the time he's finished reading, and Derek makes an unrealistic wish to be able to keep it there forever.

“So, you were right,” Derek says, “when you said that she knew. You were just a little mixed up about what, is all.” Derek takes another deep breath. “What your mom knows is that you got the chance to begin again, Stiles. After all the shit we went through, you actually got to start over. With somebody who will absolutely protect your soul with their life.”

Stiles suddenly blinks furiously, like somebody just threw salt in his eyes.

“And you knew it, that she knew... something,” Derek smiles back, lovingly, before that smile turns a little wry. “It's just that you were kind of—now, how should I put this…?”

“No. Do not do it!” Stiles shouts—instantly catching on because he'd easily be the brightest bulb in any box—and he's pointing again, at Derek this time. “Puns are my stupid thing, you charlatan, and I can and will sue!” he warns, outraged yet smiling again as he wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“—barking up the wrong tree,” Derek finishes, his smile now positively wolfish.

Stiles shakes his head and narrows his eyes, but he's chuckling, too as he says, “You do remember that it's you who's the canine in this relationship, right, 'wolf? If anybody's going to be making barking sounds, it's you.”

“Speciesist,” Derek quips.

Stiles pokes his tongue out. Then he's quiet for a few seconds (but definitely no more than fifteen).

“You know, I really was wrong when I said you deserve better than me. We actually absolutely deserve each other, Hale. Because it turns out we are both humongous assholes.”

After a moment, Derek grins more.

“Well, I would have answered that with I love my asshole, but you had to go and use the word humongous, and there's no way I would say that about my asshole—even though I would have technically been talking about you when I said it, seeing as it's actually you that is my favourite asshole.” And he pulls a rare, goofy face, just for Stiles, who laps it up. “Also, thinking about it, I would also have to say that loving my actual asshole is, in fact," he points at Stiles, “your job.”

Stiles dramatically slaps a hand over Derek's mouth.

“Oh my God, Derek, stop! My ghostly mother could be listening in to us right now! Jeez, dude, have a little decorum, won't you?!” And if Stiles saying that isn't ironic, Derek really doesn’t know what is.

“Sorry, mom!”

Grinning even more, Derek pushes Stiles's hand away from his face.

“Hey, wanna know the coolest thing?” he asks.

“Why in the name of anything sacred did you bother posing that as a question, Der? Like, when would I ever say no to that?”

Derek leans over and kisses Stiles again, soft and languid this time. The boy's lips are dry and warm and he tastes just like autumn.

Stiles hums and smiles into Derek's mouth as if he really, truly does love Derek.

After another glorious moment, Derek pulls back, looks at Stiles and says, “Yew trees aren't even native to this part of California.”

for @greyhavenisback my beloved <3 sorry i'm a dipshit, douche, massive ass-hat and a total loser, sometimes xp

(i got the info on tree symbolism HERE btw)

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rainbowxocs · 10 months ago

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Name: James DuPont.

Alt Names: C.A.T, Pluto, Charon, Jane Doe.

Special Titles: Dr. James DuPont, Grandmaster, God Killer, Cat Burglar, EOD, Lieutenant Colonel, Sharpshooter, False God, The Star, Narrator.

Old Titles: Knight, God of Duality, God of Judgement, God of Eternity, God of Chaos, Servant, Empiric.

Username: @kitty9lives

Nicknames: Bad Omen, Kit Cat, Cat Boy, My Rose, My Star, Stray, Blue Bird, Kitty, Chaton, Bunny, Phoenix, Holmes, My Beloathed, Final Girl, The Prophet, Schrodingers Cat.

Chronological Age: 4.5 Billion.

Vessel Age: 605.

Age: 45.

Pronouns: Switches between He, She, and They. Depending on what gender he is that day. (Switches between il or elle in French)

Sexuality: Gay.

Gender: Genderfluid, Catgender.

Base Species: Starling.

Current Species: “Human” (Pure Hybrid)

Hybrid Info: (Sphinx, Litch, Witch.)

Disorders: CPTSD, Autism, Insomnia, Selective Mutism, Night Terrors, BPD, Anorexia.

Physical Disabilities: Blind, Deaf (Has a Cochlear Implant), Ambulatory Wheelchair User (Occasionally uses crutches or a cane as well), Has two arm prosthetics and two leg prosthetics, Chronic Pain.

Recovering Addictions: Alcohol, Weed, Nicotine (Cigarettes), LSD, Self Harm.

Religion: Pagan.

Job: Professional Villain, Chemist.

Degree: M.D, Chemistry, Robotics, Computer Science.

Lives in: NYC, New York, 2307.

Languages: French, English, Hindi, ASL, LSF, Spanish, Italian, German, Danish, Dutch.

Height: 5’7”.

Ethnicity: French, Portuguese.

Accent: Brooklyn Accent with a hint of French.

Other Form: Purple Goop.

Animal Form: Giant Purple Isopod.

Spirit Form: Headless, Covered in Roses.

Spirit Level: Acceptance.

Powers: Reanimating, Creation Magic, Death Magic, Prophetic Visions, Judgement, Potions, Alchemy, Shapeshifting, Strings, Pandora’s Box, Lightning Magic, Technology Manipulation, Lie Detection, Time Magic, Forbidden Fruit.

Tech: Holograms, Robotic Minions, Smoke Bombs, Paint Bombs, Teleporters, Lock Picks, Lazers.

Weapons: Sword, Pistols, Sniper Rifle, Bombs, Rocks, Scissors, Various Witchcraft Supplies such as salt, wards, etc, Scissors.

Also Can Use: Muskets, Rifled Muskets, Rifles,

Wand: Uses his hands.

Alignment: Chaotic Good.

Text Color: Purple, Sometimes Black.

Main Animal: Cat.

Main Hobbies: Reading, Video Games, Sculpting, Yugioh, Violin, Otamatone, Puzzles, Robotics, Scientific Experimentation, Coding, Chess, Letter Making, Tambourine, Photography, Flute.

Favorite Drinks: Peppermint Tea, Coffee, Classic Boba.

Favorite Snacks: Queso, Saltines, Apples.

Favorite Meals: Garlic Bread, Dino Nuggets and Fries, Mushroom and Olives Pizza, Pancakes, Veal Stew, Pigs in a Blanket, Hot Dogs, Tuna, Chicken Wings, Mac and Cheese, Ham Sandwiches, Maki Rolls, Sashimi, Bagels.

Favorite Candy: Pez, Oreos.

Favorite Dessert: Gingerbread Cookies, Frosted Sugar Cookies, Birthday Icecream.

Favorite Flower: Roses, Purple Forget Me Not.

Scent: Roses.

Handedness: Left Handed.

Blood Color: Bronze, Sometimes Red.

Awareness: Very Aware. (Effect: Negative.)

Birthday: December 1st 1701. (Sagittarius.)

Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: He is always wearing cat patterns and tends to have toe beans on his shoes and gloves.

Special Interests: Technology, Robotics, Chemistry, The Sims, The Path, Sailor Moon, Disney Fairies, The Owl House, Steven Universe, FNAF, Kitty Love: Way to Look for Love.

Stims: Tangles, Cat Noises, Lazer Pointer, Yarn, Pressure Stims.

Stimboard: COMING SOON.

Moodboard: COMING SOON.

Fashion Board: COMING SOON.

Comfort Objects: Wedding Ring with Gold Band and Amethyst, Journal, Furby, Freddy Plush, Old Cat Plush, Gloomy Bear, Fuggler.

Family: Unknown Birth Parents.

Friends: Joan (Henchman.), Kriston.

Romance: Jonah Francois, Aditya Ravi. (Spouses.)

Enemies: Jonah Francois (Mortal Enemy), Michael Ansley.

Patrons: Bastet, Santa Muerte, Hecate.

Pets: Eyeball (Robot), Chain Chomp (Roomba), Mr Terminator (Black and White Cat),

Reincarnations: ��𒋫 (Kita), חַוָּה (Eve), Πανδώρα (Pandora), दिया (Diya), Juliet, Pied Piper, Other Unknown Reincarnations.

Brief Personality: James is a bit of an enigma. He doesn’t get close to many people, often his ramblings about taking over the world push people away. However if you are persistent, he will warm up to you like a stray. He is incredibly intelligent, and also very very VERY stubborn. But he is incredibly loyal to the people he loves. If you are able to gain his trust he would let the world burn for you, without any hesitation.

Brief Backstory: [COMING SOON]

#Spotify #James #James DuPont #oc #ocs #oc reference #original characters #original character #my art #my writing #original character reference

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the-one-and-only-dontron · 4 months ago

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*There was a soft knock on the door, but nothing stood outside. However, there was a gift bag. Inside was a package of high tier coffee beans, two pair of noise-cancelling headphones and two hand-sized turtle plushies. There was also a note*

"Hey Donnie, I got your present. Thanks, I can really need some help, wherever I can. I'm the most part sure that you drink coffee, so I got you some to enjoy. The headphones are for you and especially for Moon, maybe it helps to keep him calm when it gets too loud. The plushies got the scent from Amber and CC, please don't hold them right in front of Moon. Instead, just place them around your working area or your bed, somewhere that is your territory. He will faintly smell their scent, but it won't be too invasive for him to freak out. Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow. - Yi"

"P.S. Please bring a blanket or a clothing item from Moon to me, thanks!"

He hums, reading the note with a small smile. His tail wags a little, happy Yi liked his gift. He nods to himself as he continues to read the note, pausing to stim happily about the noise cancelling headphones. He hasn't had the chance to replace his yet, and shell does he miss being able to drown out the noise just a little. He gets the feeling Moon will appreciate it, too.

He brings the bag inside, carefully placing one plushie on his bed and the other on his desk. He places the bag on his desk as well, making a mental note to grab something from Moon's pile before heading to Yi's tomorrow. He'll also have to wait to show Moon the headphones, since he's pretty sure he's asleep right now.

#rp #rp gifts

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welcome-to-green-hills · 1 year ago

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I am once again asking Mystery the Science Wizard to build a real life shadow the hedgehog to protect the human race and to feed him coffee beans

Hello, my dear!❤️✨

In order for me to create a bio-engineered (humanoid-like embryo sequencing) Shadow the Hedgehog, I would need a few things. I would need a functional lab, equipment, a few million dollars, a group of people to work with, and a bag of jalapeño pepper chips. Chips are my stimming in the lab.

#mystery anon #off topic #Once when you’ve gotten me the supplies I will build you Shadow

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eddie-rifff · 1 year ago

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My housemate just got wooden pearls of different sizes and shapes and he puts them in a bowl and kinda like. crunches them when he needs to concentrate. Apparently the slight clacking sound is also very nice. Just as a tip for a pretty quick DIY fidget toy! You could also try something like coffee beans or dry chickpeas. I imagine they're nice to run your hands through. Personally my no. 1 fidget utensil is chewing gum because for me the main stim point i need for concentrating is not my hands but my mouth. I need to CRONCH. Good luck with finding sth!

hmmm ok ok! yeah ill try to find something around the house before buying something, there's gotta be something like that that'll work fine. and dude i loooove chewing gum but i go through it so fast, so i feel like im wasting my money going through it like i do :/

but tsym for the ideas! ill take whatever advice i can get. luv u

#asks

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gummi-stims · 1 month ago

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🎀🐱☁️☕Kitty Cloud Foam Latte☕☁️🐱🎀

From snoopslimesofficial's kawaii cafe collection!

#stimboard #moodboard #stim #hands #slime #cloud slime #fake drinks #coffee #latte #coffee beans #sanrio #hello kitty #white #brown #tan #red #black #visual stim #tactile stim

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antirepurp · 2 years ago

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it's been interesting to follow the reblogs on this, partially because the reblog graph is fun as hell atm but also people's reactions to this intrigue me, because i didn't muse these out of a desire to tug at heartstrings really, it was nothing but a fun thought experiment over character growth. both of these guys are 15 as far as any official acknowledgement of their ages goes, having them change as they age and have them look at things from new perspective checks out.

i can see how sonic in particular would come off as angsty maybe, but i don't think it has to translate that way. just because someone isn't hyping things up to the same degree they used to doesn't mean that doesn't happen anymore, the tone may have a different flavor to it or the energy is more contained, but the sentiment can remain. thinking and acknowledging the seriousness of the fights you go up against doesn't have to mean you can no longer approach them with similar passion and joy as you used to, or refrain from engaging in them altogether, it may be nothing but some passing thoughts after everything is done, a lingering sense that things could have gone very wrong, but they didn't, they never have. quietness can be nothing more than the lack of obvious stimming, less tapping feet and moments of stillness when you're lost in thought. and arguably he already trusts in his friends' abilities to a great degree, we already see him do it as early on as sonic adventure 2, and again in frontiers. perhaps there's only more solace and peace of mind than before.

shadow on the other hand has much more spacious room for growth, because edge tends to dull over time, and keeping up an attitude gets tiring and inconvenient and even embarrassing sometimes. it's easier to let the smile and chuckle through, especially when you start feeling more confident in your own sense of self and don't feel like living to meet the expectations of people who are no longer in your life to begin with. identity is complicated and the puzzle tends to lack a couple pieces from time to time, but you can still form a picture, make it your own from the bits you've found along the way, the raw coffee beans and pop music and the chao you adopted a while ago. the benefits of remaining as a framed picture of your lost loved ones and family are slim and not worth the effort it takes; there are better ways to honor those memories and legacies. you were conceptualized as a weapon of mass destruction, and you have every right to reclaim that title and forge a new meaning out of it, but it doesn't have to be all you are. you can be a friend, a hero, a protector, and so much more.

sonic who's a bit older and a bit more mentally tired than he used to be. who's finally had some time to understand the weight of the things he does and foes he faces, who's beginning to realize the kind of shit he battles and the powers he messes with, but who actively tries not to think about it too hard. who keeps up the smile even when he's not fully feeling it that day, who's much more quiet when he's by himself than he used to be. whose appreciation of his friends grows with every passing day, who believes in them even more than he used to to the point he doesn't need to fear death (if he even did in the first place); if the world is in their hands after his passing, things will turn out alright

#soda offers you a can #lore drabbles #im procrastinating on rigging rn so have this thought dlc

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