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theculturedmarxist · 4 months

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In his book In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror, and an American Family in Hitler’s Berlin, Erik Larson cites a cable sent to the State Department in June 1933 by a U.S. diplomat posted in Germany that provided a far more candid assessment of the Nazi leadership than the one that President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s administration was then conveying to the public. “With few exceptions, the men who are running this Government are of a mentality that you and I cannot understand,” read the cable, which was written five months after Adolf Hitler was appointed chancellor. “Some of them are psychopathic cases and would ordinarily be receiving treatment somewhere.”

I’ve thought about that passage from the cable many times over the past several weeks as I’ve been reading excerpts from a private WhatsApp group chat established last December by Erik Prince, the founder of the military contractor Blackwater and younger brother of Betsy DeVos, the secretary of education during President Donald Trump’s administration, who invited around 650 of his contacts in the United States and around the world to join. Prince, who has a long track record of financing conservative candidates and causes and extensive ties to right-wing regimes around the world, named the group—which currently has around 400 members—“Off Leash,” the same name as the new podcast that he’d launched the month before.

Among the group’s hottest topics:

• The “Biden Regime,” which a consensus of Off Leash participants who weighed in view as an ally of Islamic terrorists and other anti-American forces that needs to be crushed along with them and its partners in the deep state, such as former Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Mark Milley, who “deserves to burn in hell,” Lara Logan shared with the group chat.

• The shortcomings of democracy that invariably resulted from extending the franchise to ordinary citizens, who are easily manipulated by Marxists and populists. “The West is at best a beautiful cemetery,” lamented Sven von Storch, whose aristocratic German family fled the country after World War II to Chile, where their son was raised before returning to the land of his ancestors, where he married the granddaughter of the Third Reich’s last de facto head of state, who was convicted at Nuremberg.

• Israel-Palestine, a problem that Michael Yudelson, Prince’s business partner at Unplugged, which markets an allegedly supersecure smartphone, said should be handled by napalming Hamas’s tunnel network. “I would burn all those bastards, and have everything above ground, everything left of Gaza, collapse into this fiery hell pit and burn!” he wrote.

• The Houthi rebels in Yemen, whom Yoav Goldhorn, who was an Israeli intelligence officer until last year and now works for a Tel Aviv–based security contractor headed by former senior national security veterans, thinks should be “dealt with” as soon as possible to ensure they don’t grow from “an inconvenience to a festering mess [that] will eventually require an entire limb to be amputated.”

• And most of all, Iran, which participants agreed, with a few exceptions, also needed to be wiped out. Saghar Erica Kasraie, a former staffer for Republican Representative Trent Franks when he served on the House Armed Services Committee and whom, according to her LinkedIn profile, she advised on Middle East issues, urged that the Islamic Republic’s clerical leaders be targeted by weaponized drones that “take them out like flys 😎.”

Not all of the group’s members are conspiracy theorists in the mold of Logan, the former CBS correspondent. I know many people who are in roughly the same political ballpark as the average Off Leash participant, including some of the chat group’s members, who are razor-sharp, even if I strongly disagree with a lot of their opinions. I don’t know Prince other than having been in the same room with him on a few occasions, but we have mutual acquaintances who say he’s not a one-dimensional evil mercenary as typically portrayed but brilliant and funny, and over drinks greatly prefers to discuss business and history rather than expound upon the latest developments in right-wing political circles.

Frank Gallagher, a former Marine who once provided security for Henry Kissinger and who worked in a high-level position at Blackwater in Iraq following the 2003 U.S.-led invasion, isn’t a fan of Prince but offered a similar assessment. “We had issues from time to time, but I can’t deny that he’s extraordinarily smart,” he recounted. “When he came to Iraq, he’d cover 10 topics, and he had command over all of them.”

All of which makes Off Leash arguably more concerning, because the group can’t be dismissed as merely a collection of harmless cranks. Many of the participants, though not all household names, are wealthy and politically wired—which makes their incessant whining in the group chat about being crushed under the bootheel of the deep state particularly grating—and they will collectively become wealthier and more influential if Trump wins the November election. That’s especially true of the Americans in the group, but the same holds for the international figures because the global right will become immensely more powerful and emboldened if the former president returns to the White House. That prospect is a source of great hope to Off Leash participants. “Trump, Orban, Milei, it’s happening,” former Blackwater executive John LaDelfa posted to the group during a trip to Argentina on December 4, two days after Prince created it. “Around the Globe, we are the sensible, the rational, the majority. Don’t give in to fear. We will defeat the Marxists.”

His hopes were shared by many other Off Leash participants, among them Horatiu Potra, a Romanian mercenary who has recently been operating in the mineral-rich, conflict-plagued Democratic Republic of Congo. “The globalists want to control the entire planet [and] the only chance to get rid of them is a spark from a great power (the USA),” Potra wrote. “Surely there will be a strong man like Erik who will initiate it, otherwise there is no chance of regaining our freedom. If this spark is started, all countries will follow suit.… We were waiting for the signal, the spark!!”

A December 2023 United Nations report alleged that Potra owns a company that has provided combat support and fighters to Congolese government troops fighting a vicious rebel insurgency. Prince unsuccessfully sought to negotiate a deal with the DRC government to fly 2,500 mercenaries from Colombia, Argentina, and Mexico into the country to fight alongside Potra’s men, the report said.

About three-quarters of the people Prince invited to the group chat are from the U.S. or live here. The largest overseas blocs are from Israel (32 members), the United Arab Emirates (20 members), and the United Kingdom (20). There are smaller contingents, sometimes a single person, from 33 other countries in Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America, and the Middle East.

Collectively, Off Leash provides an informal virtual gathering place for current and former political officials, national security operatives, activists, journalists, soldiers of fortune, weapons brokers, black bag operators, grifters, convicted criminals, and other elements in the U.S. and global far right. The roster of invitees includes:

• Icons of the MAGA ecosphere such as Tucker Carlson, the most revered figure among group chat participants, with the exception of the Supreme Leader himself; Kimberly Guilfoyle, the longtime fiancée of Donald Trump Jr.; and retired Lieutenant General Michael Flynn, Trump’s convicted-then-pardoned first national security adviser. Flynn has participated, Carlson only minimally, and Guilfoyle not at all.

• Current and former lawmakers and aides, such as Tennessee Congressman Mark Green of the House Freedom Caucus; Vish Burra, who was director of operations for Congressman George Santos; and Stuart Seldowitz, a national security adviser to Barack Obama from 2009 to 2011 who was arrested last November after harassing an Egyptian halal street cart vendor in New York City for two weeks, during which time he called him a “terrorist” and said, “If we killed 4,000 Palestinian kids, it wasn’t enough.”

Prominent figures in the Off Leash crew are well known for their paleoconservative political views, but the private opinions expressed in the group chat are even more extreme and jarring than we normally see voiced publicly. Participants chirpily discussed the desirability of clamping down on democracy to deal with their enemies at home and regime change, bombings, assassinations, and covert action to take care of those abroad. The group’s overall bloodlust periodically proved to be too much for a few more judicious individual members, who in almost any other setting would be considered ultraconservatives but in the context of Off Leash sound like hippie peaceniks‎. One of the dissidents—a National Rifle Association firearms instructor who runs a weapons company—joked that he was worried about an “unsupervised” subgroup of especially enthusiastic military adventurers that formed to discuss topics too “hot” for WhatsApp, saying, “I imagine their ‘to be bombed’ list is over 49 countries and growing.”

Many other Off Leash participants have also stated that they don’t view the group chat as merely a forum to exchange ideas but want it to become a vehicle to put their theories into action. “If we band together … we can damage the other side like no one has ever seen before!” exclaimed Jeff Sloat, who worked with a U.S. Army psyops unit in Central America during the Reagan era.

I don’t want to disclose much about how I learned of the group chat and the nature of its discussions, but I will say that multiple sources in the U.S. and elsewhere shared information, including two journalists who I discovered had learned about Off Leash, which nearly gave me a heart attack for fear I’d lose my scoop. Participants did occasionally express concerns about security, but their worries were mostly centered on the possibility that their conversation was vulnerable to hackers. It apparently never occurred to any of them that their confidentiality might be compromised not by sophisticated cyberwarfare specialists but by old-fashioned leakers, which was virtually inevitable given the group’s size.

Off Leash was still active as of Wednesday, though I expect it won’t be, at least in its current form, for much longer, given that the conversation Wednesday included much discussion about their security being breached, which became evident after I reached out to participants for comment. Fortunately, I obtained details about a large slice of the chat group’s discussions over the past six months. Here’s some of what they discussed.

Solving the Middle East Crisis: Nukes, Napalm, and Other “Extreme Measures”

Off Leash was launched less than two months after Israel commenced its assault on Gaza following Hamas’s deadly October 7 attack on Israel, and that topic has been one of the group chat’s main concerns since it was established by Prince on December 2. Five days later, Omer Laviv, an executive with the Mer Group, a private security company with many former Israeli intelligence officials in its senior ranks, posted a story to the group that ran two days earlier in The Times of London and reported Prince had been seeking to sell the Israel Defense Forces equipment for a plan he’d devised to flood Hamas tunnels with seawater.

“I was involved,” remarked Moti Kahana, the Israeli American businessman who runs GDC, the firm where Off Leash member Stuart Seldowitz previously worked. Kahana pointedly added that at least one part of The Times’ story was false—for example, Prince had offered to donate the equipment, not sell it, he said.

“Why do you expect accuracy from journalists?” retorted Laviv, who during the Trump administration retained 27 U.S. lobbyists and consultants to run a $9.5 million lobbying campaign on behalf of President Joseph Kabila, the corrupt, brutal leader of the Democratic Republic of Congo, who used surveillance equipment supplied by the Mer Group to monitor his regime’s opponents. Among those Laviv involved were Rudy Giuliani, Trump’s former personal lawyer, fixer, and dirt-digger, and Robert Stryk, whose clients have included Saudi Arabia and El Salvador’s state intelligence agency under crypto-fascist President Nayib Bukele.

Yudelson, who also reportedly partnered with Prince in an attempt to buy weapons for resale from Belarus dictator Aleksandr Lukashenko (whom the two men praised for bringing “peace, stability, and prosperity to your country”), predicted the tunnel-flooding proposal would be shot down by the “Israeli left,” a force he labeled the country’s “biggest enemy,” ahead of Hamas and Iran, over concerns about the environmental impact in Gaza. “Who gives a shit about that,” Yudelson posted to the group. “If it was up to me … I would flood them with Napalm! I would burn all those bastards, and have everything above ground, everything left of Gaza, collapse into this fiery hell pit and burn!”

Even that was deemed to be insufficiently hawkish for some Off Leash participants. In a lengthy tirade on February 14, Tzvi Lev, who formerly worked in Israel’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, said it was rare to see a people as “twisted” as Palestinians, whose culture “worships death and bloodshed.” The only solution, he wrote, was to “completely uproot the radical Islamic Palestinian nationalism,” which was possible to do based on the historical precedent of Japan, which “went from being nuked twice to one of the world’s strongest economies within two decades.” Dropping nuclear weapons on what’s left of densely populated Gaza, which is roughly the size of Detroit, would be a war crime and kill huge numbers of civilians.

Yoav Goldhorn, the former Israeli intelligence officer, also cited “fucking nukes in Japan” as an appropriate remedy to the Palestinian problem. Sadly, wrote Goldhorn, whose LinkedIn profile says he has “a passion for strategic planning,” there was no one in the Israeli government with “the balls nor vision to go all those extra miles.”

Iran: Off Leash’s Public Enemy No. 1

It was hard to keep track of all the wars, invasions, covert operations, coups, and assassinations Off Leash members favored. One region ripe for a bit of good old-fashioned Western intervention was Africa, which was described as a “pot about to boil over” by Emma Priestley, who posts as “Customer” in the group chat and is the CEO of GoldStone Resources Limited in Jersey, the English Channel island that is one of the world’s most popular offshore secrecy havens. China would have to be taken down a peg as well, particularly as Biden wasn’t going to stop the country “from doing a damn thing,” and indeed he would pave the way for it to do “whatever it is they want to accomplish,” posted Randy Couture, the former UFC heavyweight champion and actor who had the role of arsonist and killer Jason Duclair in the TV series Hawaii Five-0 and starred in the 2011 movie Setup with 50 Cent and Bruce Willis.

But the No. 1 target on Off Leash’s hit list, by orders of magnitude, was Iran. “Follow the source of evil,” wrote Montana Congressman Ryan Zinke, who served as interior secretary under Trump. “Hamas. Hezbollah. Houthis. Iran is the center of gravity.”

“Zinke is right,” agreed Tennessee Congressman Mark Green of the House Freedom Caucus.

Yemen’s Houthi rebels were most immediately in the group’s crosshairs, due to their attempts to halt arms shipments to Israel. Finishing them off would be a cakewalk, but time was of the essence as the Houthis were “relatively limited in strength” at the moment but could become a major problem if swift action wasn’t taken, wrote Yoav Goldhorn, a former Israeli intelligence operative.

To Goldhorn’s way of thinking, the Houthis were best compared to “rot [that] stinks a lot more than the flesh it ate”:

As we’ve seen countless times in the Middle East, if you don’t treat rot it will grow and spread and turn from an inconvenience to a festering mess, and will eventually require an entire limb to be amputated. The Houthi threat has to be dealt with now, while they’re still relatively limited in strength. Otherwise it’ll become a problem too big to handle without extreme measures, or worse yet—remain a problem for future generations to come.

As for moving against Iran itself, the leading cheerleader in the group chat for military action is Kasraie, who worked for Representative Franks of Arizona until 2017, when he resigned amid charges of sexual harassment by two female staffers. “The IRGC is the head of the snake,” Kasraie wrote in one post, referring to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. “It’s time to cut the head of that snake.”

An Iranian American who converted to Christianity after her family moved to the U.S. following the 1979 Islamic Revolution, Kasraie has worked closely with fellow exile Amir Abbas Fakhravar, the co-founder of the Confederation of Iranian Students, which claimed to represent a worldwide pro-Western movement in support of domestic opponents of the Islamic government.

Fakhravar was hailed by the neoconservative think tanks American Enterprise Institute and Foundation for Defense of Democracies—which were leading advocates of the 2003 invasion of Iraq and are currently leading the drumbeat for regime change in Iran—as his country’s 2.0 version of Ahmed Chalabi, the CIA-backed Iraqi exile whom the Bush administration promoted as a beloved figure among citizens of his native land during the run-up to the 2003 invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein. That didn’t pan out as promised when Chalabi 1.0 led a political coalition in parliamentary elections two years after his triumphant return that won less than 1 percent of the total vote.

Now Kasraie, who organizes congressionally hosted “global conferences in Washington for activists to plan the constitutional future of a free, democratic Iran,” according to an online bio, is touting Reza Pahlavi, the shah’s oldest son and crown prince of Iran, as “the only viable opposition leader” and the man the U.S. should install in power after seeing to the formality of dispatching the current government.

“I assure you, the Iranian people want nothing more than to be free from the bloodthirsty mullahs,” Kasraie wrote in the group chat on January 27, and added with equal certainty that younger Iranians were “pro-Israel and pro-America” and that millions in the country felt a deep “sense of nostalgia” for the former royal dynasty. If Reza Pahlavi received strong international support—he would merely be a “mouthpiece” to be handled by a team of “good advisors,” Kasraie stated—the internal opposition “would be much more inclined to rise up and we would see far more defectors.”

For his part, Reza Pahlavi, who hasn’t stepped foot in Iran for 45 years and lives in a lavish estate in the Washington suburbs, said in an interview last year he wasn’t sure he wanted to have an official role in a future government if the current one was overthrown, or even live in the country. This didn’t dampen the ardor of Kasraie, who in one post labeled the mullahs a “cancerous venom that need to be eradicated from … the planet,” with her preferred method to accomplish that being weaponized drones that would “take them out like flys 😎.”

That type of approach was endorsed by others in the group, including Gabriel “Kaz” Kazerooni, a former U.S. intelligence officer, Special Forces veteran, and Blackwater employee in Iraq, who described Iran’s religious leaders as “pedofile [sic] Mullahs” and a “bacteria to humanity” who he hoped would soon “die away.”

“EP [Erik Prince] has the right people in place,” Kazerooni added cryptically, saying it was only a matter of time before the “Mullah Pigs” would be removed from power.

Washington should “take out” the commander of the IRGC’s Quds Force that replaced Maj. Gen. Qassem Soleimani, who was killed in a 2020 operation ordered by President Trump, Lara Logan said. Prince had urged he be targeted for killing four years earlier, when he was informally advising the Trump campaign, in a memo to White House chief strategist Steve Bannon.

Logan proposed the U.S. also assassinate other “key targets” in the Middle East, specifically mentioning “the head of Hamas,” whose name she didn’t mention, but she presumably was talking about Mohammed Deif, who leads the group’s military wing. “That will send a message,” she said.

Nathan Jacobson, a 69-year-old Canadian Israeli businessman who told The New Republic he is a longtime friend of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and fought with the IDF as a young man, had a more ambitious proposal. In order to topple the Islamic regime, he said blithely, “We need to hit” Iran’s nuclear facilities, ports, Qom, where the mullahs reside, IRGC headquarters and bases, and oil industry production facilities, which would shut down the country’s economy for months.

The calls for carnage elicited pushback from two Off Leash members. “The problem is while doing nothing could empower them, bombing might empower them more,” warned Mark Farage, who owns a firearms and ammunition manufacturer in Virginia and made the joke about the “unsupervised” subgroup’s ever-growing list of countries they wanted to be targeted for airstrikes. “I don’t think we have successfully bombed anyone into an ally since WWII.… Maybe we should consider more tools than just a hammer?”

“Huge mistake to attack Iran directly,” concurred Matt Heidt, a Special Forces veteran who deployed to Africa, South America, and Asia, including a 2007 stint in Iraq’s Anbar Province. “We would be inviting 10/7 here.”

Jacobson was infuriated by the criticism of his blueprint for war.

“We don’t want them as an ally,” he said in a comment directed at Farage. “Let them spend their time stoned on qat and screwing their sheep.”

He was even more contemptuous of Heidt’s opinions. “You remind me of the Jews in Germany in the 30’s that thought that by being quiet that the problem would go away,” he sneered. “We have no choice but to hit them hard and then kill these cells if they raise their ugly heads. Why are you taking a coward’s standpoint?”

“So you’re going to waddle your fat ass over there and put some skin in the game or are you content to put others at risk?” retorted Heidt.

“Unlike you, I’ve had skin in that game for years,” said Jacobson, who served in the IDF in the 1970s. “What have you done?”

“Retired SEAL Senior Chief with a Bronze Star with V,” shot back Heidt. Bronze Stars are awarded for heroism in a combat zone, and are not uncommon, but a Bronze Star with V, for Valor, are relatively rare.

Those in Off Leash’s overwhelmingly dominant hard-line faction were having none of the namby-pamby defeatism from Heidt and Farage.

“Bomb the hell out of them,” Kazerooni insisted. “Mess with US and you will eat your Sh_t. We the United States Of America is still the strongest Country in the world.”

More recently, the Off Leash crew has been in a chronic state of agitation over political developments that have led them to further ratchet up their calls for jihad against their worldwide enemies. In mid-April, after Tehran fired missiles into Israel in retaliation for an airstrike in Syria that killed two of its generals in a diplomatic building, Sloat, the psyops specialist, excitedly declared it was “time to disintegrate Iran.” In May, their fury turned to Biden’s brief pause in arms shipments to Israel, though none were surprised by the president’s treachery, as his “Regime is infiltrated by Muslim Brotherhood” (Yudelson) and “compromised … by Iranian regime influencers” (Zinke).

The group finally got good news recently with the helicopter crash that killed Iranian President Ebrahim Raisi, though nerves frayed as they awaited confirmation he was dead. If he’d tragically survived, wondered Tzvi Lev, perhaps it would be possible to dispatch a Special Forces search and rescue unit to “disappear” him before he was found.

The Future of American Democracy: “It’s Trump or Revolution!”

Even more worrying to group chat members than the state of global affairs was that democracy was under attack across the world, especially in the West and most of all in the U.S. They blamed the same barbarians at the gate science fiction writer Robert Heinlein pointed to in To Sail Beyond the Sunset, which was published in 1987, the year before his death. “Democracy often works beautifully at first,” but the day the franchise is extended “to every warm body … marks the beginning of the end of that state,” Heinlein wrote. “For when the plebs discover that they can vote themselves bread and circuses without limit and that the productive members of the body politic cannot stop them, they will do so, until the state bleeds to death, or in its weakened condition … succumbs to an invader—the barbarians enter Rome.” The passage about bread and circuses was posted in its entirety on February 16 by former Virginia Congressman Tom Garrett, who offered it as an explanation for why democratic governance made it impossible to address the problems facing the United States.

“Definitely an issue,” agreed Scott Taylor, another former House member from Virginia, and Republicans were responsible as well. Too many GOP lawmakers campaigned as principled opponents of government spending, Taylor wrote on the list, but were “more concerned about their individual selves then actually advancing conservative policy” and chased federal money for their home districts like common Democrats in hopes of currying favor with their pleb constituents.

Former President Trump’s campaign to return to the White House posed an even graver and more imminent threat to American democracy. It wasn’t Trump, per se, or his efforts to reverse the results of the 2020 presidential election that troubled the group, needless to say. The danger was that following his landslide victory this November, which was a foregone conclusion, the deep state would “steal it again,” just as it had four years ago, Yudelson posted. “I just hope and pray that they will not JFK Trump before the elections, physically, or with some of their other methods.”

Despite such trepidations, Congressman Zinke spoke for the group when he wrote, “There is only one path forward. Elect Trump.”

“It’s Trump or Revolution!” Yudelson chimed in from the chorus.

“You mean Trump AND Revolution,” a right-leaning Canadian businessman shot back. “The Left is too violent to sit back and let Trump win again.”

John Mills, a retired Army colonel who held a cybersecurity post at the Pentagon under Trump, was overcome with emotion when his hero appeared at the Conservative Political Action Conference in February. “Tears streamed down my face,” he wrote to the Off Leash group chat from the event. “DJT and the J6ers are in the house.”

The view that Trump represented a unique hope was shared by group chat members outside of the U.S. “He is the best thing … even in Africa,” offered N.J. Ayuk, a native of Cameroon who currently lives in Johannesburg, where he founded a law firm that assists clients with interests in the oil and gas sector. “Trump all the way 💯”

“I live in darkest west Africa,” posted Emma Priestley of GoldStone Resources Limited. The overall situation was such an irredeemable mess, Trump himself might not be able to “save this shithole of a continent.”

“Completely agree,” replied Ayuk, who once worked as an intern for the late New Jersey Democratic Congressman Donald Payne but was deported in 2007 after pleading guilty to using his boss’s stationery and signature stamp to illegally obtain visas to the U.S. for citizens of his home country. The Biden administration had been “a disaster” for Africa. “They only give us lectures and talk about renewables,” said Ayuk. “These latte liberators are actually the problem.”

That was a minor offense among the long litany of crimes Off Leash participants laid at Biden’s door. “Looks like the globalists are enabling this mass illegal immigration,” Yudelson, citing an article at Zerohedge, wrote in one post. “Surely with tremendous assistance from the Biden Regime.” But Biden was merely a figurehead controlled by “elements that are actually ruling for the Deep State,” he continued. The real problem was that Democrats had been “in cahoots with the Muslim Brotherhood and infiltrated by their proxies and agents, as well as Ayatollah sympathizers” ever since President Bill Clinton’s administration.

With the Democratic Party captured by Islamic terrorists, Marxists, globalists, and other foreign and domestic evildoers, the U.S. was “being destroyed from within,” warned Kasraie, whose fears were shared by many among the Off Leash crew.

“The insurgency within our country today is going to bite us,” said Scott Freeman, the CEO of a Virginia company called International Preparedness Associates, which designs “unique special programs” that help defend U.S. national security, friendly foreign governments, and private-sector interests, according to its website.

Many Off Leash participants were even less restrained. When a chat group participant posted a story that revealed JPMorgan Chase had hired General Mark Milley—whom Trump appointed chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff but clashed with during and after his presidency—as a senior adviser, Lara Logan went off the rails. “Milley is a piece of shit and a traitor and he deserves to burn in hell,” posted Logan, who holds a seat on the board of America’s Future, a conservative nonprofit chaired by Off Leash member and former Lieutenant General Michael Flynn, Trump’s national security adviser for less than a month.

At a February 23 America’s Future event, Logan shared that she’d originally been skeptical of the Pizzagate conspiracy theory, which spread in far-right circles during the 2016 election and proposed that Hillary Clinton and other Democratic Party officials were running a child sex trafficking ring out of the pizzeria Comet Ping Pong. However, after conducting her own independent investigation, Logan told the audience at the event, she’d discovered, “Holy guacamole! This actually is all true.”

What, then, was to be done?

The answer was clear to Freeman, a.k.a. “ScottyF” in the group chat. “Apply all tenets of warfare internally against the many enemies living among us. America is capable of being fully capable again. Do we have the will to levy the toll?”

Jesse Barnett, a retired Navy SEAL specializing in “Active Shooter Prep ... and Crisis Prevention” who ran the Indianapolis-based indoor shooting simulator Poseidon Experience, offered a harsh but necessary recipe. “We need a Nuremberg style clean up of this global cabal,” he proposed. “Only through accountability can we cleanse our spirits.” Once the cleansing was out of the way, security could be maintained by using “technology to identify sociopaths and keep them in their place.”

On the roster of Off Leash participants, there was one—a poster with the handle of “S,” whom it took me weeks to identify—who stood out as a particularly dark character. There were some in the group who expressed more unhinged views and others who more casually called for violence against their enemies; what made S distinctive was his dry, bloodless manner and businesslike espousal of a disciplined worldview that was unmistakably fascist.

“This is no longer politics, this is an open war against freedom and human nature. And wars aren’t won with more balloons and confetti as we know,” S wrote. “It’s no longer a ‘game’ either.… It is time to adapt strategies to reality and stop pretending that we live in a free democracy in the West.”

S was later revealed to be Sven von Storch, born to a German family that left for Chile after World War II, whose wife, Beatrix von Storch, is the granddaughter of Lutz Graf Schwerin von Krosigk, Hitler’s finance minister from 1933, the year he took power, until he killed himself in Berlin in April 1945, as Russian troops closed in on the bunker where he and the dregs of his loyalists were holed up. In his last will and testament, Hitler appointed von Krosigk to serve under Joseph Goebbels, his handpicked successor as chancellor, but since his minister of propaganda committed suicide the day after Hitler, von Krosigk became the Third Reich’s head of state during its final days. “Von Krosigk never wavered in his enthusiasm and labors for the Nazi cause,” prosecutor Alexander Hardy said during his trial at Nuremberg, where he was sentenced to 10 years for financing the concentration camps and other crimes.

Beatrix von Storch is a leader and Bundestag member with Alternative for Germany, arguably the most radical of Europe’s far-right parties, which calls for a crackdown on immigration into the country to protect its “Western Christian culture,” a variant of the “great replacement” theory espoused by white supremacists in the United States. Sven von Storch doesn’t hold elected office, but he’s considered to be a prominent figure in the AfD. An admirer of Steve Bannon, von Storch has close ties to Chile’s pro-Pinochet political bloc; he and his wife met with Jair Bolsonaro, the country’s former president, at the presidential palace in Brazil, and the latter’s powerful son Eduardo gave the couple a bottle of the first family’s brand wine as a gift.

“Law and justice no longer mean anything in the West,” von Storch wrote during the same conversation. “Stupid and naive people may still believe it. And probably not even them anymore.”

It’s not clear how many in the group knew S’s real identity, but he was clearly a pedigreed German fascist who even within the rarefied far-right ecosphere of Off Leash sat at a distinctly extreme end. No one seemed troubled by his views, and indeed von Storch was warmly embraced. “This is getting interesting,” Kazerooni wrote in response to his post. “Love this Group.”

Freeman was one of a number of group chat participants who, like the former psyops specialist Sloat, wanted to look for ways to implement their policy ideas. A group with so much “experience, accomplishments and resources” should look for a few issues we “might be able to influence together,” Freeman proposed. “Not to save the world or the idiots in the USA but rather a core of us or perhaps a broader group of like minds/patriots of some sort. 🤷‍♂️”

Reading the group chat’s conversations would be comical if it wasn’t so pitiful and disturbing in equal measure. Group members clearly regard themselves as natural elites who are more intelligent, virtuous, and honorable than Heinlein’s tired, poor, unwashed plebs.

Yet none of the four current and former members of Congress who are active in the group distinguished themselves as model public servants. In 2018, Zinke resigned as Trump’s secretary of the interior after an Inspector General’s report concluded he was a serial violator of ethics laws. Green withdrew his nomination to be Trump’s army secretary after being criticized, including by GOP John McCain, for past statements he’d made that called for his fellow citizens to “take a stand on the indoctrination of Islam in public schools” and labeled transgender people “evil.” Garrett resigned his House seat in 2018 after it was alleged he and his wife used his congressional staff to run errands, chauffeur their children, and clean up after their dog, though he denied those charges and cited alcoholism as the reason he had stepped down. Four staffers who worked on Taylor’s 2018 reelection campaign were subsequently indicted for election fraud, which he said he knew nothing about, but he lost that race and did again when he ran for his old seat two years later.

Even more farcical was the manner in which group chat members portrayed themselves as rightful guardians of democracy, even as they proposed employing military force against their unarmed domestic political opponents and rounding up members of the “global cabal” for trial at a Nuremberg-style tribunal. It’s blazingly evident that many in the group can’t even define democracy, and those who can don’t like it.

Dallas real estate developer Scott Hall informed the group he was moving his family to the UAE, which is ruled by an authoritarian monarchy, because “freedom is real” there. When President Gustavo Petro, Colombia’s first leftist president, was running for office two years ago, the rural oligarch Sergio Araujo Castro publicly declared that his employees “have the right to vote freely for whoever they want,” but he’d fire any who supported Petro. After protests against the Biden administration’s support for Israel’s assault on Gaza erupted at Stanford in January, Goldhorn wondered how it was legal that students who took part weren’t summarily expelled as they received benefits from the U.S. government, but “[wished] for its destruction,” which he evidently equated with criticism of its policies.

I sent messages seeking comment to Prince and the 29 participants whose comments in the group chat are cited in this story. Prince did not respond. Of the others, only Barnett, Jacobson, and Goldhorn were willing to be interviewed.

Barnett, who once worked for Blackwater, said participants in the group chat “love the country and want good solutions” and that he was not an ideologue and favored “checks and balances, and transparency.” A “centrist who leans libertarian” and Barack Obama voter in 2008, Barnett said the 9/11 attacks seven years earlier were an “inside job 100 percent,” and that they “woke me up” and triggered the political evolution that led to his current “conspiracy observationist perspective.”

Barnett said he was a Trump fan in part because “the establishment hates” the former president, adding that the Russiagate scandal that led to his first impeachment had been cooked up by Democrats as part of a politically motivated attack to drive him from office. (An opinion I share.) When I told Barnett his remarks about the need for a new Nuremberg tribunal sounded like a call for an attack of the same type but against enemies of the group chat, he said he didn’t favor a politically driven kangaroo court but envisioned a scrupulously fair judicial process that “truly enables our country to move forward,” which could be ensured by establishing panels with impartial experts such as journalist Matt Taibbi, psychologist and commentator Jordan Peterson, and others of similarly “high integrity” to help determine who would be prosecuted.

Jacobson also said his remarks in the group chat sounded harsher than he’d intended. Despite having been friendly with Netanyahu for many years, he said the Israeli prime minister and his government were “long past their expiry date,” and he considered the military attack on Gaza to be “a complete failure.” On Iran, Jacobson said he “loved Iranian culture, cuisine, and people” and noted that he’d spent time with Reza Pahlavi last week when the latter was in Toronto, where he lives.

“I hate the mullah’s regime,” Jacobson added, but “I’m not calling to go to war” but to help the domestic opposition bring the regime down by bombing Iranian oil infrastructure and related targets. About a month ago, he’d proposed that during an informal discussion with an unnamed Israeli official, telling his interlocutor that Iran’s missile strikes against Israel were “our opportunity to hit their oil facilities so they can’t make money to finance terrorism.” About Off Leash itself, Jacobson said, “I enjoy the banter of the group, but it’s not a political conspiracy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Goldhorn, who told me he knows Prince “very tentatively,” replied when I paraphrased his remarks about dropping nuclear weapons on Gaza and regarding the Houthis. “I didn’t see anyone proposing or discussing such actions in the group, so I can’t really comment on these claims.” When I sent him the relevant excerpts, his memory was refreshed regarding the Houthis, though he said he was “referring to the naval threat mostly,” as the group was seeking to sink merchant ships. “I was not [referring] to the Yemenese [sic] people as a whole, only the military organization.” He continued to insist he’d “never suggested to nuke Gaza, which is a laughably dumb idea,” though I had excerpts of the respective conversations about both topics, which were faithfully recounted earlier, and the quotes from Goldhorn are verbatim.

Off Leash’s participants want a “democracy” where the “plebs” vote the way they want in every election and the government only approves their preferred policies, which would give them the absolute certainty they want that their outsize wealth, privileges, and influence will be protected. That’s not the way democracy works, it’s the way dictatorships do, which no doubt feels comfortable to group chat members who have thrived doing business with corrupt, repressive regimes and leaders, which is the way many met each other and Prince, and how they came to be part of Off Leash in the first place.

To paraphrase the assessment of Nazi officials made by the U.S. diplomat from Erik Larsen’s In the Garden of Beasts, during ordinary times, people who hold such opinions would be receiving treatment somewhere. However, to continue with the analogy, many Off Leash participants currently hold powerful political roles or are intimate allies of those who do.

The key to expanding their influence, in the collective view of the group chat, and not only its American members, is a victory by Trump in the November election. “The freedom of the Western world is decided in the USA,” as von Storch put it. “As long as the USA lets the globalists do whatever they want, we patriots in the rest of the world can only try to maintain and survive our positions.”

Comparing the contemporary United States to Nazi Germany is an admittedly imprecise analogy. Nevertheless, it’s impossible not to be alarmed by the crypto-fascist, off the leash views expressed by Trump’s allies in the group chat about exterminating their foreign and domestic enemies and needing to “find the will to levy the toll.” However imprecise the comparison, as a model political capital, Berlin 1933 is far more compatible with the worldview of Off Leash participants than Washington 2024, and in the event they and like-minded associates gain power in the U.S. or elsewhere, they’ll be pushing backward in that general direction.

#erik prince #off leash #israel #iran #blackwater #guillotine #eat the rich

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cattatonically · 2 years

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Want You Bad - Day 3

This is part of a series for #sterekvalentineweek - I would suggest reading them in order.

What you can generally expect - hilarity, chaos, mishaps, slow burn, strong language, and vague descriptions of some minor criminal activity.

I hope you have as much fun on this adventure as I did!

Day 1 Day 2

If there was one thing that Stiles could say for himself, it was that he was a damn good friend. And damn good friends support their friends in need. Even when said need involved a hammer, nails, heavy lifting, and the egos of community theatre actors.

Erica, of course, was the exception. And because she was the exception, and Stiles had hit a brick wall on a case, he really couldn’t say no when she asked for his help getting the stage set up for opening night. (And if he got to sneakily ogle at Derek doing some heavy lifting of his own, well, that was his little secret.)

Stiles was well into hammering out the last few planks onto a set of prop stairs when the door at the back of the theatre burst open.

“Sorry, sorry!” the dude running down the aisle apologized loudly. “I got caught up!” When Stiles looked up, his eyes went wide.

“You!” he bellowed, catching the attention of everyone else on the stage, including Derek.

This was the guy he’d been looking for. He had been tasked with serving this asshat a court summons for months and months of child support back pay. Peter had brought the case to him personally. Stiles wasn’t about to let his payday go without a fight.

He dropped his hammer, and tried to make his way down the actual stage stairs to catch the guy, and sit him down so he could call Kira for the summons papers. However, his feet had other plans.

Just as Stiles hit the first stair, his foot got caught in a piece of rogue fabric. The fabric tangled, sending him sprawling down the stage steps, enveloping him in dark burgundy velvet. Stiles struggled to get the velvet off his face, only to be met with Erica’s amused smirk looking down at him.

“Wow, Stiles. Just. Wow.” Then Stiles spotted her phone in her hand.

“Erica, if you love me, and I know you do, you will not post or send that to anyone.”

“Too late, Batman!” Stiles felt his phone vibrate, and by Erica’s shit-eating grin, he knew she sent whatever she’d captured of his epic fail to the group chat.

“Well. Fuck.”

“Not even if you ask nicely, Boyd doesn’t like to share.”

With a groan, Stiles extricated himself from his velvet death trap. He spun around, hoping he wasn’t too late in catching the douchecanoe, only to spot Derek sitting on him in one of the audience seats. “Uh,” he said, eloquently.

“This was the guy you needed, right?” Derek asked, as if he didn’t already know. God, he looked good - even covered in dust and sweat.

“Uh. Yup. Yeah. Yes. Yes, that is the guy I need. No! Not need! Was looking for! Yeah. That one!” Stiles knew his face was turning various shades of red. He could hear Erica snickering at him, but that was a problem for Later Stiles. Right Now Stiles needed to deal with this.

“Right,” Derek said slowly. God, Stiles really wished the ground could open up right now and swallow him whole. “Well, you do what you need to do, and we’ll be right here while you do it. Trust me. He isn’t going anywhere without your say so.”

Instead of replying, and risk more unfortunate flailing word vomit, Stiles opted to nod. He turned to make his way back up the stage stairs so he could call Kira somewhere Erica wasn’t having an epic giggle fit.

And just his luck, Stiles’ foot caught the edge of the velvet fabric again, and sent him careening up the steps. “Why is this my life?” he asked the floor he was facing.

“Because you’re Stiles Stilinski, and no one else can be you but you.”

“It was a rhetorical question, Erica.”

“And you got a non-rhetorical answer. Now, stop trying to destroy our fabric! You have a job to do.”

“Yeah yeah, Catwoman, I’m on it.” It took ever ounce of self-control Stiles had not to look back. He really did not want to see the look on Derek’s face.

Lucky for him. Erica had managed to capture it on video, meaning everyone and their uncle (mainly Peter) would have opinions they were only too happy to share with Stiles.

God, why was this his life?

#sterekvalentineweek2023 #Teen Wolf #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Erica Reyes #Slow burn #sterek is endgame #Stiles is a bit of a disaster #Catt writes

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josjournal · 2 years

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Bet My Life On It (Full Moon Ficlet #508 - Faith)

Written for @fullmoonficlet

Stiles stood on the porch of the newly rebuilt Hale House. He knew Derek had finished the night before when the Pack group chat had received a text from Derek inviting everyone for a barbecue that weekend. Stiles, being Stiles, didn’t want to wait that long to see the house. He’d texted Derek to ask if he could come over that morning but hadn’t gotten a response.

He had a drink carrier in one hand and a paper bag in the other. Using the hand holding the paper bag, he knocked on the door and waited. After a few minutes, Stiles heard nothing from inside the house. He glanced over his shoulder to see Derek’s SUV and knocked again.

After another couple of minutes, Stiles put the edge of the paper bag in his mouth and used his now free hand to try the handle. The knob turned easily under his hand, and the door swung open. Stiles’ breath caught as he took in the foyer of the house. He’d seen it before as a blacked-out shell and again during construction, but he’d never imagined it would wind up so beautiful.

When Derek had announced that he’d planned to rebuild the house himself, with only the occasional help from contractors, the Pack had laughed at him. Stiles had gone to the library and checked out many construction books. While contractors came, he’d sat at the house because the strangers made Derek edgy. Even as the house came together, the rest of the pack bet on how long until Derek either gave up or the house fell down around them.

“You can’t be here yet,” Derek said, startling Stiles. Derek stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at him, but he wasn’t glaring.

Stiles noticed the way Derek’s hands twitched. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Inspector’s coming,” Derek explained. “The house isn’t officially habitable until it passes inspection.”

“You already sent out the invites for this weekend,” Stiles pointed out.

“Might have been a few steps ahead of myself.”

“Derek,” Stiles said, setting the bag and carrier on the small table to the left of the front door and heading up the stairs. “Everything is going to be fine. The house will pass inspection.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t seen anything except the foyer,” Derek argued, but Stiles saw the corner of his lip curl up slightly.

“I have believed from day one that you could do this,” Stiles said. “My faith in you and your determination never wavered.” A knock sounded on the door, and Derek pressed his lips together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get this house okayed to live in so I can pick out my room.”

The following weekend, Stiles sat next to Derek on the back steps of the house while the Pack ran around, roughhousing and eating. The house had passed inspection with no problems. The inspector had claimed that it was the highest rating he’d ever given in all his years as a housing inspector.

Stiles nudged Derek when Scott approached, looking sheepish and his hands deep in his pockets. When he reached them, Scott pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to Stiles. “You had to have cheated,” Scott muttered as he walked away.

“What’s that?” Derek asked as Stiles counted out the money, taking half and handing it to Derek.

“The pool winnings,” Stiles said. “I was the only one who bet you could do it.”

Derek’s smile was small as the tips of his ears burned pink. “You bet on me?”

Stiles grinned. “I’ll always bet on-” Stiles cut off when Derek leaned forward and pressed his lips to Stiles’. “What was that?”

“You like me,” Derek said, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Stiles and flipping Erica off when she started cheering. Stiles saw money changing hands out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t look away from Derek’s face.

“You don’t know that,” Stiles said but not arguing because Derek wasn’t wrong.

He smiled and kissed Stiles again. “I’d bet my life on it.”

Cross-posted to AO3

#fullmoonficlet #sterek #eternalsterek #sterek ficlet #my writing #bet my life on it

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erin-bo-berin · 2 years

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hear me out Steve Harrington x fem!reader at a bonfire at the beach with his friends & it’s the first time reader is meeting them but steve is touchy and comforting to reader?

Can you imagine a bonfire with the entire gang though? That would be so fun 🥺

It was your first time meeting the family-like tight knit group of friends your new boyfriend, Steve had been telling you about.

He had constantly reassured you that they would love you, that they were all eager to meet you, but when he pulled up the bonfire beach party that you’d both been invited to, the nerves kicked in.

Your stomach was in knots as you saw a crowd of at least a dozen people around the bonfire.

What if they didn’t like you?

What if they thought you were all wrong for Steve?

He took your hand and everyone turned when you two approached. You feel scrutinized, like you were under a microscope and felt yourself trying to fold into yourself.

Steve pulled you close, sensing your instant timidity, making sure you knew that he was still right there by his side.

“Everyone, this is Y/N,” he introduced.

“Y/N, this is Dustin, Robin, Eddie, Mike, Lucas, Max, Erica, Nancy, Jonathan, Will and El.”

Your mind swam with the numerous names and you were sure the panic showed on your face, trying to match names to all the numerous, curious—but not unkind—faces.

He turned to you, an amused tilt of his lips apparent on his face.

“I know it’s a lot of names, but don’t worry. They’ll answer to pretty much anything,” Steve joked.

“Yeah, you can just go “hey you” and we’ll answer,” laughed one of the girls your age—Robin, if you remembered correctly.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you smiled, feeling a bit better about the situation now.

“Now be nice,” Steve warned, “You treat my girl right, okay?”

“Who us?” the curly headed, younger teen, Dustin said, “We’re angels.”

“That fell from Heaven,” Steve muttered.

“I feel like Steve just hit on me,” Dustin mused.

You sat down in the sand, near the warmth of the bonfire.

“Would you like a s’more?” a red headed girl asked you, “I’m Max,” she reminded you, kindly.

“Sure, that’d be great,” you smiled up at her.

She came back with two sticks with marshmallows, handing them to you and Steve. You thanked her and held yours out toward the flame.

You felt Steve pat your thigh, an innocent, loving and reassuring gesture.

“See? They don’t bite.”

“Okay,” you relented, smiling as you agreed, “You were right.”

“They’d be crazy not to love you.”

He sent you one of the pretty smiles he was famous for and you returned it.

Throughout the evening, you found yourself chatting with numerous members of the group. All the while, Steve kept touching you, his gentle touches just there for reassurance and comfort, even if he was deep in his own conversations with his friends.

He would always make sure his girl was okay.

#steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff

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thebigoblin · 3 years

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Sterek Fic Recs Part 3

[You can find the first two lists here: Fluffy Sterek Recs & Sterek Fic Recs. Also here's a special fic, check it out]

First off, thank you all for a 100 followers!! As of September 7, 2021 you've made me feel really, really good about my obsession with two oblivious idiots (with sprinkles of the hale pack and other fandoms), and this is my way of thanking you ♥️

If you're on PC, you can see that there is a page dedicated solely to fic recs, which caters to other ships & fandoms too. So don't feel left out if you're looking for something other than Sterek!

Without further ado, let's get to it then!

an awful curse

Isaac is asleep in a chair. The angle of his neck makes Derek wince in sympathy.

"Isaac," Derek says.

Isaac snaps awake immediately.

"You're-"

"Where's Stiles?"

"Stiles?" Isaac asks.

Jesus. It's not like they know more than one.

AU - Canon Divergence | 6.3k | By blinkiesays

Throw Away The Key

Stiles knew it was stupid to go to the hunters’ headquarters all by himself, so when he finds himself caught, he can really only blame himself.

It shouldn't surprise Stiles when the situation quickly goes from bad to worse as the hunters throw him to a feral werewolf waiting to tear him apart.

Sucks that it's Derek, though.

AU - Canon Divergence | 5.9k | By mommymuffin

Whatever Happened Last Night, Why Did Glitter Have to Be Involved?

Derek rolled out of bed in search of his phone - quickly finding it in the pair of jeans that had evidently been tossed aside haphazardly on the way to the bed. Seeing the pants sparked flashes of memories - wolfsbane-laced alcohol, loud music, multicolored lights.

Peter’s new supernatural-friendly club - the pack had gone to the opening night party.

He unlocked his phone and opened the pack group chat, which Erica had affectionately named ‘Moon Sluts’.

>>Derek: What the fuck happened last night

[or: Derek wakes up with three things on his mind: he feels like he was punched by a troll, his mate is missing, and there's glitter covering his bed. Oh, and the pack group chat is mildly helpful]

Prompt #159 - “Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.”

Crack Vibes | 1.2k | By ash_mcj

Good to Eat

So if Stiles married Derek Hale, he could become Jewish too? Perfect. It was settled. Stiles gleefully shoveled a forkful of cheesy shells into his mouth.

"Uh oh. I know that look.” Claudia shook her head.

"Don’t worry, Mom, ” Stiles said, reaching for his plastic Batman cup.

"I’ve got a plan.”

"Good luck, Derek Hale,” his mother muttered.

Rude.

AU - Childhood Friends | 1.7k | By Jmeelee

Murder Brows and Avoidance Tactics

Derek gets the wrong end of the stick.

Written for prompt: "You're jealous, aren't you?"

AU - Everybody Lives | 2k | By Dragonink13

Double Vision (only registered users can read this one)

"So what caused my hearing and sense of smell to dull?"

Deaton's brow furrowed, all amusement vanishing from his face. "What do you mean?"

Derek snapped, letting loose all of his anger and fear at the man before him. "I mean I can't hear your heartbeat or the cars down below or the birds in the attic! I can't smell the flowers in Mrs. Everett's apartment, I can't smell the rotting burger in the fridge that Isaac left in there a month ago, I can't smell or hear anything like I normally can!" Deaton mouth was pressed into a thin line. "Can you explain that?!"

Tumblr Prompt: Derek jealous of himself.

AU - Everyone Lives | 6.1k | By Novkat21

Kiss?

Derek likes kissing Stiles, honestly he does. Until he doesn't.

Fluff | 3.6k | By clotpolesonly

Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales

Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.

Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?

(aka - Five TImes Scott Found Derek and Stiles Sleeping, and the One Time He Didn't)

AU, Supernatural is real but not known by everyone, Alive Hale Family | 11.2k | By Little Spoon

Call Me (Cliché)

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

AU - Canon Divergence | 84.6k | By Orphan_Account aka the author has dissociated themselves from the fic

Shiver

Stiles has really, really cold hands. Luckily, Derek knows just what to do about that.

Established Relationship | 1.7k | By canistakahari

Derek Hale's Possible Heart

An anon sent me a sterek prompt for Laura teasing Derek and Stiles joining in, then somehow sharing their feelings for each other in the mess of things.

AU - Canon Divergence | 4.3k | By loserchildhotpants

What's a Secret Identity?

Stiles sipped at a mug of coffee, absently watching the news play in the break room. Because of course a news station couldn't play anything other than its own content, even in the one part of the office that was supposed to be a safe space from work. His interview with Superman was making a rerun and Stiles glanced at Derek before commenting absently, “I’d totally let Superman fuck me.”

Derek, who had been in the middle of a swig of coffee, choked violently, “That’s not something I needed to know at nine in the morning, Stiles.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What time would you prefer I tell you about all of the things I would let Superman do to my body?”

AU, Derek is Superman | 7k | By Chrystie, imabignerd and kate882

i see that you've come so far [just like them old stars]

But her big brother’s unwillingness to touch anyone, like he thinks he doesn’t deserve it isn’t the only thing she notices. She also notices how Stiles doesn’t touch him.

Everyone reaches for Derek in some form or another, but Stiles- Stiles is something different altogether because he reaches for Derek but he never makes contact.

He’ll be trying to shimmy past Derek and instead of putting a hand on his arm like most of them do, he’ll reach out with a hand and stop it scant centimeters away from Derek’s skin.

Or they’ll be walking alongside each other and Stiles will hover a hand on Derek’s lower back.

It’s both fascinating and tragic to watch, like NASA lost control of one of their robots and instead of it landing on the moon it’s fated to gravitate around it.

AU - Canon Divergence | 2.3k | By crossroadswrite

Déjà Vu

There’s a shop in Beacon Hills that no one knows anything about except that the mysterious proprietor, a witch in whispered circles, knows what you need before you do and that the things given are always just what you need.

Derek, lost after a breakup, heads into the shop to see if he can find something to help him forget his ex. The witch gives him a potion to drink, and when Derek wakes up, he finds he’s sixteen again and there’s a new student at his school, Stiles Stilinski.

Everything is familiar and yet not, and Derek finds he’s strangely drawn to Stiles in a way that is entirely supernatural.

AU, Supernatural is Real | 8.8k | By gremlins-came-and-got-me and StaciNadia

Start Small, Like Oak Trees

The months following Allison's death have passed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem to lose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts. Eventually, he thinks, he'll just fade away. He isn't sure anyone would notice. Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Hale attempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory the world doesn't seem so awful.

He's not sure what he'd been expecting when he eventually convinces Derek to move into the Stilinski's spare bedroom, but a newfound passion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn't it.

AU - Canon Divergence | 24.2k | By SmallBirds

Undercover K9

As it usually goes, Derek acts before he thinks. This time he has a good reason, though-it's all Stiles' fault. Mostly.

Or, that time when Derek volunteered to spend all his spare time as a wolf with the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Office K9 Unit, just to protect Stiles' dumb ass.

Future Fic | 17.9k | By Cobrilee

Rose Colored Glasses

“Obviou—um, what? Derek?” Stiles managed. “What? You’re not colorblind. You’re colorblind?”

“Yes.” Derek said gruffly. “And?”

“And? What do you mean and? You can’t see colors?” Stiles demanded, thrown. “Does it—what kind is it? Red-green? Blue-yellow? Why doesn’t—oh my god, is this why your entire freaking wardrobe was completely black until like two years ago? Oh my god!”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a favorite color, Stiles.”

Established Relationship | 2.2k | By SassyStarboard

1,460 Days (gotta clean my slate)

Two years after Scott becomes Alpha and Derek gives it up for Cora, Stiles gets hurt during a fight and ends up in a coma for two weeks. According to the nurse, a guy has been visiting him every day and, as much as he wishes it were Derek, it sounds a lot like Scott. Except he and Scott aren't even friends anymore.

AU - Canon Divergence | 10k | By army_of_angels

This is it for now. Happy reading y'all! ♥️

#sterek #my sterek fic recs #sterek fic recs #derek hale #stiles stilinski

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kittykatstiles · 1 month

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erica sent stiles slutty macbook selfie that went viraled on twitter to the group chat and streets are saying derek hale broke his phone again

#was just digging my slutty macbook selfie and thinking #yea stiles in college would nail this so hard #like 7 million views and 50k likes #he would be so famous on tumblr too #sterek #btw it’s derek 7th time to get a new phone this year #my sterek

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occasionallykettle · 2 years

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stranger things 5 wishlist

stranger things 5 wishlist – in no particular order

max waking up from her coma, but still being blind. i hope they don't just brush her literally dying and coming back to life off and continue like nothing ever happened (that kind of happened with will in season 1 and 2 but i can't blame anyone since it was important for the storyline that everything was kept a secret and stuff) because having a blind character would be interesting, since she could prove that she can still be helpful to the party despite now having a disability.

dimitri (enzo) coming back for season 5. i am honestly kind of hoping that the whole russia storyline is over, since it was painful (a bit boring tbh) to see joyce, murray and hopper doing totally their own thing for the entire season, however i still want dimitri to come back. he was a pretty interesting character, in that he didn't backstab hopper, joyce and murray after they escaped and stuck with hopper the entire time. he couldn't have gone back to russia (at least i don't think so) because he must be considered a pariah/fugitive, so is he somewhere in america now? i guess i wouldn’t mind yuri coming back as well, i just think he fulfilled his role in the series and isn't needed anymore (that's where he differs from dimitri).

mike and will (possibly argyle and jonathan as well) having a much greater role in season 5. i was kind of disappointed when will and mike, who are supposed to be part of the og party, were on a road trip for half the season, so the fact that they are getting a bigger role in season 5 makes me ecstatic.

byler happening. if there is one season that is perfect for byler, it will be season 5. i mentioned this in a previous post but 4 and a half seasons of build-up will make byler incredibly satisfying when in inevitably happens.

it would also be great if they were to address the painting. like mike has this "oh my god" moment about the painting and the last letter that el sent to mike. mike could find the letter on the ground and read it again and then connect the dots.

more scenes with murray, joyce and hopper working as a team (and, as previously mentioned, dimitri). they are a pretty intelligent group and fun to watch. great dynamics between all of them.

robin and vickie. need i say more?

will shoots a gun and saves someone as a result of it. we know that he knows how to load and shoot a gun (and most likely done it before with his father), and no one has seen him do anything to harm someone in order to save someone else (something like smashing billy's head with a pipe, which mike did, or threatening to hurt billy with steve's bat, which max did) and we all know that he is far more capable than he seems. will shooting a gun is the bare minimum, for me.

if and when max wakes up from her coma, i really want erica to be there. i think it was really sweet when she stayed at the hospital with her brother despite barely knowing max, because her brother was there. i believe and hope that she will have a greater purpose in season 5, since she is a part of this vecna mess now.

robin and will finally meet (for real this time) and have a good talk about something they share in common. being different. i'm pretty sure robin has come to terms with her sexuality and has accepted it far better than will has. and jonathan is great, but he is most likely straight (he hasn't shown signs of being otherwise) and he can never relate to the struggle that his brother faces every day like robin can, and thus cannot help him as much as robin can. i am aware that the duffer brothers stated that they wouldn’t be doing smaller storylines in season 5 (for example, getting steve a girlfriend) like they did in the previous seasons, however this is not a small storyline. it's will byers' identity, one of the main characters of season 5. and when he does eventually get with mike, it will have been worth it to have a chat with robin, and make a lot more sense.

i was originally not planning to post this one publically because i know that a lot of people strongly disagree, but i am kind of hoping that eddie doesn't return for season 5. his character was great, but he did seem like a one season character. like bob, alexei and barb. and if eddie does come back, then literally none of the important characters (maybe papa but he was destined to die from the beginning anyway) died. eddie died at the perfect time (writing wise – not so much for the characters) and if he were to be brought back to life, then i would personally just be confused and a little disappointed. joseph quinn did say, however, that he would be returning for season 5 (or something similar), so eddie might come back in flashbacks or something. or at least, that's what i hope. also, if eddie were to come back, then that just adds another character that needs an important role in the storyline, or what would have been the use in bringing him back? there's already will, mike, dustin, lucas, el, possibly max, joyce, hopper, jonathan, nancy, steve, robin and probably some more that i forgot, that need to play an important role in season 5 for all the build-up to be worth it. and besides, did the duffer brothers not say that it would be down to the core 4 to defeat vecna? that means that all of the young adults (that includes eddie) will not be involved in the final blow to vecna, and so that kind of disproves the kas theory (there is the possibility that i am misinterpreting what the duffer brothers said about the core 4).

el gets some independent badass moments. i think she already established that we was capable of doing great things by herself but now we need it to be explicit. and also, more centred around her personality – how her compassion, loyalty and bravery helps in the time of battle.

mike or will to get vecna'd. i feel kind of mean saying that, but it could be very beneficial to the plot. think about it, if one or the other were to get vecna'd, that would allow for a very emotional scene directed by the person that doesn't get vecna'd. i actually made a post about this here already.

we see more of jonathan and will being brothers. they were shown to be quite close in season 1 and 2, but then they started drifting apart after that. it's still very clear, though, that they both care for each other very much, and i would like to see a lot more of that in season 5.

similarly, more scenes with el and hopper. i think they were awesome in season 2, like they could both teach each other things. and el needs a proper father figure, since she has literally never had one before in her life. i liked how hopper was there for el in season 2 when she was closing the gate, since that really shows that even the strongest and most independent of characters need other people to help them sometimes.

this list is unfinished, but these are the ones that i think are most likely and/or my top ones. this post is also mainly for my documentation purposes so that when season 5 comes out i can find this list easily, so if i was unclear on some things, i apologise!

#stranger things 5 wishlist #stranger things

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batcat46 · 4 years

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cyborg fish? - rory keaner x reader (no pronouns)

Walking out of chemistry the final class of the day, you tapped down my jean pockets looking for your phone. Opening it already open to your message chat with rory you sent him a text asking where he was. You pushed open the doors to the front of school, phone buzzing simultaneously. Rory had responded with a simple yet ominous “catching lunch” you had just joined the friend group and were yet to know the secrets of the town. You were confident when you had first moved you were gonna be the only out of normal thing there. You were quickly proved wrong. There were times when Rory got really excited his eyes would glow yellow and he would just smile with his mouth shut. And there was one time you two were in detention for pranking Mrs. LOL and he got a papercut when you offered a bandaid in your bag it was already gone. Then again the first time he was over your house he found scales on your bathroom sink. Every weekend you usually hung out with the group at someone's house. It was usually Ethans thanks to his parents being gone more than they're there. But first it was Erica and Sarah who bailed then next was Benny and finally Ethan caving in for benny. That left you with Rory and some poor Wendy's workers alone for the night. You rapidly apologized to the worker as Rory had a beaming smile on his face walking away from the counter with 4 trays of fast food. Sitting down at a table across the restaurant from the poor overworked employees you smiled at him. “I think you might be a little hungry when you finish” he immediately looked up a nugget half in his mouth with a confused look. He finished off his nugget and asked “you really think? This is usually enough for me to get by.” you smiled at his cluelessness. And he smiled back one of those iconic rory in love smiles, with a minor difference. Your smile dropped immediately and your eyes widened the nugget you have taken from him dropping onto the table. His smile dropped in response to your out of normal actions. “What’d i do y/n? What's wrong?” he asked worriedly. “Rory do you have a secret you've been keeping from me?” you asked not knowing whether to hope he was a vampire or not. It dawned on him, he reached a finger and lightly prodded the pointy long tooth. “I may or may not be a vampire” he said with a questioning voice as if he didnt know what the answer was. You let out a bright smile. His worried face dropped, an awkward smile replaced it instead. “Oh thank the gods. you breathed out. “My turn to ask if you have a secret” he rebutted. “You remember that scale you found one time?” he laughed, “yeah you still never showed me your cyborg fish, now that i think about it how would that work, like wouldn't it short circuit do something similar to-” “it was mine.” you budded into his long ramble. “ i said that so you wouldn't question me and think i was a weirdo.” “sick you grow scales!! Benny did that to me once with some janked up spell i think it was supposed to-'' you cut him off again, “rory im a siren.” he paused but his face stayed the same in that iconic rory smile and he said simply said “oh ethan and benny defeated one of thoise once that isn't that bad'' and laughed. “We need to introduce you as siren y/n to their group, at first we all thought someone normal was gonna be in the group.” you cocked an eyebrow and he realized you did think everyone was normal. He listed off everyones supernatural ability and you sat there ready to catch a fly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sighed after the long table of explaining you grow and tail and live forever and at one point lured a guy to his death, they all cheered. Which definitely caught you by surprise but you were glad nonetheless. “Can i call you fishy now?” Erica asked with a smirk.

#rory keaner #mbav #mbav rory #vampire #siren x vampire #rory #my babysitter's a vampire imagine #my babysitters a vampire #rory x reader #rory x y/n

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wulfnerd · 3 years

Text

Does it make sense? No idea. Is it beta'd? Nope.

Drabble idea got away from me, now it's a oneshot. ＼（〇_ｏ）／

Find Our Kismet, sterek, t, 1,6k w ◌ Stiles needs to pee. [AO3]

Kira had sent a group text last month about how her record label is sending her on a concert tour for the first time. Her recent single had made a big enough splash that her label wanted to capitalise on it and get her working venues. She'd be an opener for more established singers and have some side performances, her being the main act. After everyone had sent their congrats, she sent a doc link that listed the first half-dozen or so dates and venues. The one tonight she was going to be the main draw. Stiles had sent a message directly to her this morning that he'd be going.

The club decided to have an opening act, some whiny heart-broken white guy, but he was almost over, and Stiles might miss Kira's first song. He drank too much waiting to get admittance, and now he really needed to pee.

If the queue would just move a little faster.

He hears a muttered, 'If we don't move soon, I'm going to end up using this wall as a urinal.' Really? He's just going to whip it out right here and pee everywhere?

'Dude, please don't. These are new shoes.'

He hears a small laugh from behind him. A very familiar one. It can't be. He turns around, and a few guys behind him is a guy with his head down on his phone. Dark hair, grey suit jacket over a red V-neck, and jeans, hints of chest hair peeking out. It could be him.

'Derek?'

The guy looks up.

'It is you! How are you?'

He hasn't changed a bit since graduation. Just as breathtakingly beautiful, only now his jawline is accentuated by real stubble and not that stuff he had at eighteen. It's truly unfair. And then the beaming smile he gets when Derek recognises him. How is Stiles supposed to live with that?

'Stiles! It's good to see you, man!' He sees Derek slip his phone in his pocket and glance at the guys between them, fingers tapping at his sides. It looks like Derek wants to cut the queue to hug him. Stiles is willing to do some very stupid things for a Derek hug. He glances in front of him, the queue still is barely moving. So he says a silent prayer not to pee his pants and lets the five guys between him and Derek cut in front of him.

'You didn't have to do that, Stiles,' but Derek is immediately reaching for the hug, so Stiles knows he's thankful too, 'it's so good to see you.'

'You too, Sourwolf,' Derek looks bashful at the nickname, 'so you here for Kira? I didn't see you on the group chat.' He would have told Kira he was coming the instant he saw Derek was instead of telling her maybe and texting on the day of.

'Yeah, I wasn't sure if I was up for it. You remember how I am with crowds.' Derek was always unique in that way. He could play with the crowd at a game when it was just as much about a team as him, but alone he couldn't stand them for long. It's probably best not to call attention to the fact that they're in a queue with a dozen dudes waiting for the bathroom before they go out to the couple hundred or so other people in the club.

'So, what have you been up to the last five years?' Stiles knows some of the basics from when he and Erica were regularly talking.

He and Erica had gotten closer when Scott got held back a year and decided on his new group of friends rather than stick with the old ones. After high school, Erica spent the first two or three years keeping up with what everyone was up to, practically running a 'Hale Pack' newsletter. Of course, then she and Boyd decided to start their family early. Between her ambitions of becoming a public defender and the baby, she barely makes Instagram posts once a month, let alone keep everyone up to date.

Really, besides his and Kira's texting this morning, Stiles hasn't texted any of his old friends in months. That's partially on him he knows, but it takes two to tango and all that.

But man, his crush on Derek hasn't dissipated at all. His beautiful sparkling eyes, his smile, those dimples, even his eyebrows. And dammit, he still smells the same. The whiff he got from the hug earlier being maybe just a hint deeper and muskier. Holding the focus of all his attention has brought it back in force. Once more, he's that scrawny kid who is in love with his best friend.

'Uh, nothing much. Just been up here a couple months helping open a new branch of my parent's consultant business.' He seems to honestly think it's not much to be proud about because it's not all his own. His parents financial consulting business helps so many people, and that's not considering they always have weekly free consultations for those who need help the most. To be a part of that is a big deal.

'Dude, that's so great. Opening a new business all by yourself sounds like a lot of work. Still can't believe you went into finances. You hated numbers.' Derek was a lost cause at any maths unless it was calculating what angle to throw a basketball to get into the hoop. He really could be such a jock at times. It was adorable.

'I only passed Flemming's class because you tutored me all semester. Remember when you yelled at her for taking points of the final because I forgot to show my work and threatened to call my mom?' Derek's laughing at this, holding onto Stiles' shoulder. Stiles may be having an out of body experience.

'I thought she was going to rip up my test and fail me for speaking out, but she deserved it. You worked so hard.' He really did. Derek even skipped a few practices to study with Stiles before the final. Finstock hated Stiles for that.

'Are either of you going to move?' Some guy with a voice like a squawking crow interrupts them.

Stiles slightly jumps while Derek looks ahead guiltily, removing his hand in the process. Stiles wants to punch the guy.

Walking forward is a mistake as his need to pee is coming back with a vengeance.

'Are you okay?' Derek whispers directly into his ear. If Stiles wasn't so distracted by his desperation, he's sure he'd react differently, but right now, all Stiles can do is nod as he starts rocking on the balls of his feet in place.

'We could go somewhere else,' and now there's a hand on the small of his back, the universe is taunting him, 'Kira will understand if we left before she could start.'

'Please.' The wall guy is starting to look smart at this point.

It probably ends up looking like Derek is kindly escorting the drunk guy away when Stiles clutches his arms and starts deep breathing. He trusts Derek is going to take him somewhere soon, but it better be real soon.

He looks up when he registers they're going through a door.

'I thought you knew where another bathroom was, dude.'

Derek has led him right to an alley outside the club and is looking up and down both directions, even glancing up the wall for cameras and people, he guesses.

'Nope, never been here before, but the wall was a good idea. Just not inside in front of thirty people.'

'Thanks, man.' This is the kindest and weirdest thing someone has done for him in a while. He's kind of stuck looking to where Derek's meeting his eyes after.

'No problem.' That hint of a smile is distracting but not enough for right now.

'So uh, turn around, I guess.'

'Right!' His eyebrows are still just as expressive, flying up to his forehead.

Stiles has a moment where he really considers how strange life is, here he is unzipping himself feet from his high school crush to pee on a wall outside a club, but then the relief comes. Quick as possible to end the embarrassment.

As he zips, he wonders what's the protocol on peeing outside. Does he still need to wash his hands? He'll need to research that later. He turns from the wall back to Derek, gives himself a second of being a creep.

'Done. Wanna try to go back inside?'

Derek turns around but is looking down and typing on his phone.

'Nah, I'm texting Kira to let her know we had to go and sorry we missed her so she can get it after her set.'

Derek looks up at him at that, as if asking if he did well. Derek's changing his plans for him, Stiles smiles, then asks the obvious.

'Now what?'

'I was thinking we could go out for milkshakes and catch up. I remember how much you like milkshakes too.' Derek is smiling like it's a fond memory. He's cute.

Though they are weird memories for Stiles. Derek loved milkshakes, so Stiles always got one too. They're just alright to him, but he'd anything to spend more time with Derek. They also always got different flavours and exchanged them before they finished. He used to love the idea of Derek's mouth on the straw he'd just used. Maybe Derek's willing to do that again?

'As long as we also get curly fries.' He really is that same kid right now.

Derek's hand rests on his back as he starts to direct Stiles, 'What do you take me for? I'm not a heathen,' then falls back down between them.

As they walk and Stiles listens to Derek reminisce about their younger years, he knows this is it. He's not scared of asking for what he wants anymore. By the end of tonight, he's going to ask Derek for a kiss.

#sterek #sterek fic #mine.app

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mxrlin-writes · 5 years

Text

The Scoop Troop Strikes Back

“

gif credit to original poster

Steve Harrington x Henderson sister!reader

You’re Dustin’s older sister, and accidentally got dragged along to the Battle of Starcourt. Whilst there, you get into a conversation with the KGB, which doesn’t end well.

warnings: she/her pronouns, a bit of swearing, Steve punches the guard, Steve asks reader out

••••••

There was a long silence after Steve punched the guard, during which the small group of you all exchanged shocked glances. Robin looked ready to fight for her life, and Erica looked like she was having a whale of a time. You were stood next to your little brother, Dustin, standing slightly in front of him in a protective stance, brandishing the mannequin’s leg that you’d taken as a weapon.

Suddenly, the sound of harsh ringing reached your ears, and you looked up towards the desk in the corner of the room, realising that the ringing was coming from a telephone placed on the table. After placing the mannequin’s leg on the table, you picked the telephone up carefully, trying not to make a noise. A furious stream of Russian was emerging from it, and you looked up towards Steve with a worried expression on your face.

You’d been in the same year as Steve at school, but had never really had much to do with him - he’d never been in any of your classes, so you’d never had any reason to actually talk to him. However, in the last year, your science classes merged, and the two of you ended up being partners on group projects. It was then that you’d realised he was friends with Dustin, and he confided in you about the Demogorgon and the Upside Down and Eleven and all the weird things that had happened to him recently. It hadn’t taken many of these chats for you to realise that you really, really liked your dorky friend. But that was all you thought it was - a friendship.

You were sucked back into reality by the sound of Dustin’s voice. “What the fuck do we do?” he hissed, gesturing violently towards the phone that was practically shaking from the noise erupting from it. You raised your finger to your lips, worried in case the guards on the other end heard you speaking English... not that you knew any Russian.

An idea occurred to you, and you raised your finger to call for silence in the room. You were going to pretend to be like one of the informants that you’d heard of in the news.

“Hey, it’s Agent (Y/N). You know, the informant,” you began, and Dustin looked at you in disbelief. Steve furrowed his eyebrows whilst Robin raised hers. Erica tried to cover her mouth with her hand to suppress a laugh.

There was a rumble over the other side of the phone and you were worried that your idea hadn’t worked - not that you’d expected it to. You were surprised when a grumbly voice replied in heavily accented English. “We heard yelling, what is happening?”

“Oh, uh, we had a slight malfunction,” you quickly improvised, recalling the scene from A New Hope when Han and Luke are breaking Leia out. “Everything’s fine, we’re all fine here,” you finished, holding your breath and clutching the phone to the side of your face.

“We are sending an office up,” the voice sounded a little distant this time, as if someone had leaned away from the receiver to do something. “Uhm, no, no, it’s good, we’re good,” you said hastily, your eyes darting towards the door. Robin stepped forward, reaching for the mannequin’s leg and tiptoeing towards the door, positioning herself by the door, flat against the wall, so that she could ambush any guards sent down.

“What did you say your name was?” the voice was louder this time, but sounded a lot more skeptical. Shit, you thought, realising that they were on to you. In one fluid movement, you ripped the telephone cord from the wall, disconnecting the call immediately. “Boring conversation anyway,” you finished the Han Solo quote, winking towards Dustin - the two of you had spent many a childhood Saturday binge-watching the Star Wars films.

“Did you just Han Solo the KGB?” a voice from your left said, and you turned around to face its owner. Steve was there, staring at you with an expression on his face that was somewhere between awe and disbelief. “I just Han Solo-d the KGB,” you repeated his question as a statement, furrowing your brows as it finally began to dawn on you how surreal this situation was.

“Do you wanna, I don’t know, go to dinner or something? Once we get out of this,” Steve asked, meeting your eyes. At first, you thought he was joking, and a frown spread across your face, prompting Steve to continue. “Just, that was pretty impressive and I just thought asking you on a date would be a cool follow up.”

Okay, so, you’d just had a conversation with the KGB using Star Wars quotes, and now your crush - who you were convinced didn't like you - had just asked you on a date. Also, Erica was here... why was Erica here? If you didn’t know any better, this could have easily been a dream.

“Hey, can you PLEASE stop flirting with my sister?” Dustin groaned. A blush spread across your cheeks, and you noticed that Steve’s cheeks were also reddening.

“Yeah, I’d... I’d really like that...” you replied, and Steve grinned goofily before putting on his best Han Solo voice. “Don’t get cocky kid,” he impersonated.

“Dinguses, assemble, back to the actual matter at hand!” Robin rolled her eyes as she said this, gesturing towards the door.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Let’s kick some ass,” Steve murmured, a grin spreading across his face as the Scoops Troop readied themselves for whatever the hell was gonna come through the door.

#merlinwrites #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #erica sinclair #dustin henderson #robin buckley #star wars a new hope #star wars #a new hope #han solo

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chaoshailed-archive · 4 years

Text

𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 📱 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜’ 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 / 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

@queencfwolves said: 📱 for juice ortiz EVEN THO THIS IS THE WRONG BLOG U DICK

their lock screen photo:

u know that edit i sent u of them with their facemasks? ye, that one

their home screen photo:

it used to be erica in basically nothing but a leather jacket, but he’s changed it to a photo of him, erica, tig, & hap since it’s less risque

how many alarms they have set:

one for every hour between 6 am and 3 am. which ones are on depends on what he’s doing

their default ringtone:

burn it down by linkin park

their favourite app(s) to use:

he really loves angry birds and the same story games that tessa plays. she’s a terrible influence on him

their most used app(s):

apple music & youtube

someone they have blocked:

gabriela. i don’t think i need to explain this one

the last person they texted:

erica, happy, or chibs. maybe all 3 in a group chat, who knows

#queencfwolves #[ ooc —— inbox. ]#[ juice ortiz —— pastrepentance. ]#bc fuck it he can have a tag here too it's fine #q.

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ends-of-the-wayward-storm · 5 years

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KH OC Week 2019--Day 7: Happily Ever After

The End of One Chapter, The Beginning of Another

[Yeah so this basically turned into a cliffhanger to something. I mean everyone’s more or less happy, but some things still linger in the back of others’ minds. So I guess this is about beginning to accept the current state of things. And hoo boy there are some characters here that I’ve written for the first time and it was so fun to get into their shoes for a bit. @khoc-week I hope I did them justice. And this is another long one.]

-------------

Erica sighed contently. Another day well spent. And as usual, it concluded with sea salt ice cream at the clock tower.

She could think of quite a few people who would love this town. She imagined they’d get along pretty well with everyone. Lea and Isa were technically the only adults in their group, but sometimes it was usually Isa.

Formerly known as Saïx.

True he had turned a new leaf and was Lea’s old friend, but . . . he had hurt his friends. She’d never forget that.

She’d also never forget everything else that hurt her friends. And took them away from her. . . .

The others chatted away about anything and everything, especially today’s antics. Naminé was content with listening and providing a few comments, and Isa seemed to be in the same boat. Lea of course always had his snarky remarks. But he couldn’t help noticing that look on Erica’s face when she was in her head.

“You all right?” Lea asked.

“Hmm?” Erica looked to him. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking.”

“About what?” Hayner asked.

Erica hesitated. “. . . There are some things I have to check up on.”

“You’re leaving again?” Pence asked.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Lea sighed. “Geez Louise. When are you gonna stay in one place?”

“I do stay in one place. It’s . . . just an old habit of mine.” And I want to keep everyone safe.

“The darkness that threatens the worlds is no longer,” Isa pointed out. “And we’ve finally found Sora.”

“I know. It’s just . . . something I have to do.”

Lea, Roxas, and Xion exchanged concerned looks. They knew her well enough to know that there was something else going on.

“Someone should come with you,” Naminé suggested. “That way . . . you’re not alone.”

“I’ll go with you,” Xion vowed.

“I’m coming, too,” Roxas said.

“Aww! Now you guys are leaving, too?” Hayner complained.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on them,” Lea assured coolly.

“Heh. You the responsible one?” Isa jested in his usual tone. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Hey! You should know me by now! I can handle this!”

The group shared a laugh, making Erica feel a little better.

“Thanks, guys,” she said.

“Just promise me that after this trip you’ll relax a bit. Okay?” Lea said.

“What about visiting everyone else?” Olette asked.

“Of course we’ll still visit! They’re our friends.”

Erica mulled over it. She had to admit, she had been doing her trips more often than usual. And she always noticed the concerned looks in her friends’ eyes whenever she’d announce she was going off. She didn’t want to keep worrying them.

But what if there’s something out there that could—

No. Despite her thoughts on Isa, she knew he was right. Everything was fine now. She could relax.

“Okay. I promise,” she finally said.

After everyone had finished their ice cream, Lea, Roxas, Xion, and Erica went to make their preparations. Hayner had been the one to suggest meeting up at Sunset Hill before they were off. And Olette had been the one to remind them about their Gummiphones. Mainly Erica.

“Make sure you remember it this time,” she chided.

“Okay okay, I will!” Erica promised.

And so, Isa waited with the others at Sunset Hill.

He studied the ever-constant sunset with arms crossed, a train rolling by down below. Even now, he was still amazed that they had forgiven him and accepted him as their friend. He had to admit, it was . . . nice.

Would that he could say the same for one Keyblade wielder in particular.

He was no fool.

He could see it in her eyes.

But he didn’t blame her.

“There’s something on your mind, isn’t there?”

Isa looked down at Naminé.

“Are you worried?”

“No. I can trust they’ll keep each other out of harm’s way.”

He could feel her gaze on him, studying him. “Then . . . what’s wrong?”

“It’s just. . . .” Isa sighed.

Before he could say anything more, footsteps brought their attention to the wielders of the hour.

“Hey guys,” Erica greeted.

“You have everything?” Hayner asked.

“Yeah,” Roxas said.

“Munny?”

“Got it.”

“Phones?” Olette reminded.

“All of ‘em.”

“Those magic bottles?” Pence said. “Sora told us they help him out when he’s fighting.”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Hayner said. “Wouldn’t want you guys going unprepared.”

Erica summoned Starlight.

“How long will you be gone for?” Pence asked.

“The same time as usual. But it might be quicker now with Lea, Roxas, and Xion with me.”

Naminé stepped forward. “Please be careful.”

“We will,” Lea said. “And don’t go doing anything crazy, all right?”

Hayner snorted. “Can’t make any promises now that Seifer and his gang are back in town.”

“I’ll make sure they stay out of trouble,” Isa said, his eyes falling onto Erica.

She met his gaze, and they held eye contact for a couple moments before she eventually nodded. She then formed a corridor of light.

“Don’t forget to call!” Olette said.

“Send pictures, too!” Pence added.

“Okay!” Xion said, smiling.

-------------

The group’s trip to all the worlds they knew was without a dull moment. Several pictures were taken and sent between the two groups, thus putting their friends’ anxieties somewhat at ease. And as usual, Hayner butted heads with Seifer.

“At it again” was a caption of a picture from Pence of Hayner and Seifer. And then a message had been sent about Isa actually getting Hayner to calm down.

Xion had also asked about Vivi, and Naminé had said that he was doing fine. And that he said hi.

“He’s really sweet,” Xion had said.

“Yup. He’s helped me out with addresses a few times while I was doing mail deliveries,” Erica commented.

Currently Lea, Roxas, Xion, and Erica were out on the bridge leading to Rapunzel’s kingdom after having just finished checking up on everyone. The sun was beginning to set, and Corona was the last world on their list. Now all that was left to do was head home.

After a quick detour.

Lea watched Erica smile as she spoke with someone on her Gummiphone. He hoped that after this trip she would relax now. Nothing was out there. Everything was over.

They weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

They were going to stay together no matter what.

*~*~*

“Something’s bothering you.”

Erica looked to Xion.

“And you’ve been really quiet for a while now,” Roxas said.

Erica toyed with a blade of grass. “I’m just . . . worried.”

“About what?” Lea asked.

“Everyone.”

The trio exchanged concerned looks.

“But . . . there’s nothing out there that can hurt us,” Roxas said gently. “Not anymore. Everything’s over now.”

“But we don’t know that. I don’t know that.” Erica set her gaze onto Aurora’s castle. From where they were, it was a perfect view of it. “I . . . I’ve lost a lot of friends. People that I’ve met before don’t even remember me because we never even met in the first place. There’ve been people in my home world that I’ve become friends with that I haven’t seen in a really long time. I don’t even know where they are or if they’re . . . still around.”

Erica swallowed. “Then I met you guys, but . . . then I lost you. I wasn’t even sure if I’d be able to see you again.” A small smile made its way through. “I . . . I met Sora and the others and we all became friends. But . . . th-then we all almost lost each other for good. Everyone’s okay now, but. . . .”

She felt her eyes begin to prickle. “I . . . I’m scared I’ll lose everyone again. I don’t want to . . . to lose you guys again to anything. I . . . I can’t. . . .”

All the trio could do was watch Erica silently struggle to keep herself together. And Lea was reminded of his desperation to bring Roxas back. He had already lost some friends already. He didn’t want to lose Roxas, too.

Roxas wrapped Erica in a hug. “We’ll always be together. I promise. Me, Axel, Xion, Naminé, and everyone will make sure of it. Nothing’s going to keep us apart anymore.”

Erica let out a sob that broke the dam she tried to build. Xion held her from the other side, and all three of them felt Lea wrap his arms around them.

“We’re not going anywhere, you hear me?” Lea said. “We’re sticking together no matter what.”

Erica merely nodded.

And they remained like that for however long she needed them. They were friends, and friends always stuck together no matter what.

*~*~*

A seagull overhead pulled Lea into the present. He looked over to Xion and Erica laughing while Roxas looked flustered. He hoped he never had to see Erica break down like that again. And of course Roxas and Xion felt the same. It always bugged him to see either of them down in the dumps like that. Isa was up there, too, but he was a different case to deal with.

“All right. We’ll see you soon,” Erica said before hanging up.

“What did he say?” Xion asked.

“He said we could come by whenever we had the chance.”

“Then by all means!” Lea said. “Let’s not keep ‘em waiting.”

Together the group made their way toward the forest.

“It was kinda weird being in Halloween Town,” Roxas said.

“Yeah,” Xion agreed. “I think it was because we didn’t have our coats.”

“Those costumes really took some getting used to,” Lea added.

“It took a while for me to get used to mine, too when I first went there,” Erica commented. “I turn into a ghost.”

“I really liked the world with the talking snowman,” Xion mentioned.

“Still getting used to that one,” Lea remarked.

The others shared a small laugh.

“I wish we could’ve gone to the North Mountain,” Erica said. “I think you guys would’ve really liked Elsa’s ice palace.”

“Well, there’s always next time,” Xion said.

“Oh! What about that world where we were all lions?” Roxas beamed.

Xion giggled. “Axel looked kind of weird.”

“Hey! I did not!” Lea argued.

“You did too,” Roxas teased. “You had the spikiest mane ever.”

“Oh it wasn’t that spiky!”

Laughter burst out at the expense of Lea.

“I can’t believe there are so many different worlds out there,” Xion marveled.

“And you’ve checked every single one you’ve been to,” Roxas added.

“I . . . guess it’s a little overwhelming,” Erica admitted. “But I’ve always done that. Just . . . not with this many worlds.”

“Lucky you had help, right?” Lea quipped.

Erica smiled. “Yeah. I am.”

Soon the group reached the lush green forest, well out of sight from any people.

“Oh! Can I try doing it this time?” Xion chirped.

“Okay,” Erica said. “You remember what I said?”

Xion nodded and summoned her Keyblade. Okay. I can do this. I just have to focus.

Closing her eyes, she pointed her Keyblade out in front of her. It was just like opening the dark corridors, except she was calling upon the light this time.

Erica makes it look so easy.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she concentrated on the light and pictured the corridor in her mind. After a couple moments, a somewhat familiar sound filled the air. A light blossomed from in front of her, and she opened her eyes to see a corridor of light.

“It worked!”

“Nice work, Xion!” Lea said.

Grinning, Xion led the way to their next destination. Light surrounded her for a couple of steps before being replaced by pleasantly warm sunlight.

And she heard metal clashing against metal.

A courtyard of soft purples, yellows, and bits of green stretched out before her. Two people were seen aggressively exchanging blows. And one of those people happened to be Terra.

“M-Master Aced!” Erica said, suddenly going at attention.

“Master?” Roxas repeated. “Is he one of those guys you’ve mentioned before?”

“Yup.”

From the corner of his eye, Terra caught a corridor of light closing. It was then that he noticed Lea, Roxas, Xion, and Erica watching them.

Suddenly his Keyblade was jerked out of his hand. Something slammed into his gut, and within seconds he was on the ground. The tip of a Keyblade hovered close to his face, and his eyes trailed it up to Aced’s face.

“You can’t let anything distract you from your opponent,” he stated. “It might cost you in battle.”

Terra did his best to nod, and Aced dismissed his Keyblade before pulling Terra up.

“But, you did well today.”

“Thank you.”

The duo then turned their attention to the group coming their way.

“Hey, Terra! How’s it goin’?” Lea asked.

“Not very well since I lost that match,” Terra replied with a smirk.

“These are the wielders you’ve mentioned?” Aced asked.

“Yep. This is Lea, Roxas, and Xion. And I think you’ve met Erica before.”

“I have.”

Erica bowed. “It’s nice to see you, Master Aced.”

“There’s no need for such formalities.” He looked to the other three. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all face to face.”

“Nice to meet ya,” Lea replied.

Roxas and Xion nodded. Both of them were quick to compare Aced’s imposing build to Lexaeus. Or Aeleus, as he was now called.

“I guess I should show you guys around since this is your first time here,” Terra said. “Come on.”

Everyone followed Terra to the building overlooking the courtyard. Aside from taking in the new world, Roxas and Xion couldn’t help glancing between Terra and Aced, who had to be at least a good couple inches taller than Terra. But Lex—Aeleus was probably taller than the both of them.

“Erica.”

She looked up at Aced who had now fallen into step with her.

“I’m . . . not sure if you remember but . . . I raised my Keyblade against you once. That was something I never should have done. I . . . hope you can forgive me.”

Erica couldn’t recall that ever happening. But, if he kept apologizing for it every time she came by, then it must’ve happened somewhere. “I forgive you, Master, even though I don’t really remember. But, I’m sure you must’ve had a reason for it.”

Aced merely frowned.

Terra pulled open one of the doors to the building and allowed everyone inside. “Ven should be in the library.”

Erica hesitated before glancing to her friends.

“Go on ahead. We’ll catch up with you later,” Lea encouraged.

Erica nodded before setting off for the library. Her footsteps echoed against the quiet halls, and she wondered where Aqua and the others were.

If she remembered correctly, Aqua, Master Invi, and Master Ira got along very well. If she wasn’t with Terra or Ven, she was often found with Invi or Ira. Sometimes it was both Foretellers. Usually they were talking, but there were a couple times she’s caught them sparring with each other. She would sometimes find herself in awe upon witnessing Invi and Ira fight with Aqua, and it usually reminded Erica of Aqua’s title as Keyblade Master.

I think Master Ava would’ve liked Terra, Ven, and Aqua. And everyone else. . . .

Another pair of footsteps drew her attention to another familiar individual reading a book.

“Master Ira!” Erica said.

He looked up at her. “Ah. Erica. It’s good to see you again.”

She bowed once again. “You, too, Master.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“R-right. Got it.”

Ira glimpsed behind her. “Is it just you?”

“Actually I have some friends with me. Terra’s showing them around right now.”

“How are they?”

“They’re doing okay. Um, how about you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. But I would like to meet these friends of yours should the chance present itself.”

“Okay. I’ll introduce you to them. Um, after I find Ven.”

“Ventus is in the library.”

“I know. Terra told me.”

“Then I will leave you to it.”

Erica bowed briefly before the two parted ways. Ira had long since known she was a skilled wielder with a good heart. Ventus seemed to mention her a lot and would sometimes speak of the handful of times they held the same mission. Hearing about their friendship often made him miss his own friendship with Ava. . . .

Meanwhile with Erica, she had finally found the library. It was cozy yet vast with its mahogany shelves and a fireplace situated near the middle. Standing by a table dotted with books was not only Ventus and his Chirithy, but also. . . .

“Master Gula.”

The group that also included Gula’s Chirithy glanced to her.

“Just Gula is fine,” he replied.

“Right. Sorry,” Erica said. Her Chirithy poofed into view as Erica and Ventus shared a quick hug.

“Is it just you?” Ventus asked.

“Lea, Roxas, and Xion are with me, but Terra and Mas—I mean, Aced are showing them around. We just got back from checking up on the worlds.”

“Again?” Ventus and Gula said, making Erica wince.

“It’s . . . a force of habit. I just want to make sure everyone’s safe.”

“I keep telling her to spread her trips out more but she wouldn’t listen,” Erica’s Chirithy commented, sing-songing near the end. Erica merely smiled sheepishly.

“It’s good to be thorough, especially against any threat from the darkness,” Gula stated. “But you have to know when to pull back. There’s no longer a threat to the worlds. And if there was, we would’ve told you.”

“I know,” Erica sighed. “I already promised Lea and the others that this would be my last trip.”

“Good.”

She briefly skimmed over the table. “So um, how are Master Invi and Aqua? I haven’t seen them around here.”

“They’re doing great!” Ventus replied. “I think they might still be in the kitchen, though. They were really into their conversation the last time I came by.”

“That’s good.”

Gula turned a page in a book. “I think I can speak for the others in saying that we’re grateful for being able to stay here with Ven and his friends. I only wish that Ava were here with us.” His fingers curled over the book. “Nothing’s been the same without her. . . .”

Erica frowned. Her Union leader was still missing, and she had considered Ava a friend despite their handful of meetings. She couldn’t even begin to figure out where to start looking if she wanted to.

“Gula and I are trying to figure out where Master Ava is,” Ventus spoke. “But we haven’t had any luck so far.”

“What about the others?”

“They haven’t found anything, either.”

“And the only one who could possibly know isn’t to be found,” Gula said, his tone belying a hint of bitterness.

“Who’s that?” Erica asked.

“Luxu.”

“Luxu?” Ventus and Erica repeated.

A look of realization flashed across Gula’s face. Uh oh. You weren’t supposed to know that.

“How come you’ve never mentioned him before?” Ventus asked.

“He’s no one important, I can assure you.”

“But if he knows where Master Ava is, then shouldn’t we look for him?” Erica asked.

“There’s no point in looking for someone who doesn’t exist.”

“But—”

“Ven?” a girl’s voice asked.

Everyone looked to Xion standing at the doorway.

“Hey, Xion!” Ventus greeted. Moments later Roxas, Lea, Terra, and Aced appeared in the doorway.

“Nice library,” Lea said.

While the others exchanged greetings, Aced’s eyes fell onto the table of books before shifting to Gula, who merely frowned and shook his head.

The older Foreteller did his best to bite back a sigh. Still we have uncovered nothing.

“Um, Master Aced?” Ventus asked. Gula winced internally.

“Hmm?” Aced glanced down at Ventus.

“Who’s Luxu?”

He couldn’t help casting a heated look at Gula, whose eyes immediately darted away. But Aced’s look was quick to vanish before anyone could catch it.

Swallowing any scolding words, Aced cleared his throat. “Luxu, is a comrade of ours who is no longer with us.”

Both Ventus and Erica’s Chirithies exchanged looks.

“Oh,” Ventus said dejectedly. “I’m . . . sorry for asking about ‘em.”

“It’s fine,” Gula said with little emotion.

Terra and Lea shared a side glance.

“Can I still help look for Ava?” Erica asked.

“Who’s Ava?” Lea questioned.

“A friend of ours,” Gula answered.

“Is she missing?” Roxas asked.

“Yes, she is,” Aced said.

“Can we help?” Xion asked.

Gula and Aced glanced to each other.

“We could use the extra help,” Terra said.

“Yeah,” Ventus agreed. “The more help we have the better chance we have of finding Master Ava.”

Aced found himself regrettably unable to respond.

“She’s your friend, isn’t she?” Roxas asked. “Wouldn’t you want all the help you could get?”

Gula mused over it, knowing full well he was going to receive a few words from Aced later. “I suppose . . . it would make some sort of difference. It’s like Ven said. The more help we have the better chance we have of finding Ava. I would think you’d agree, Aced.”

“I—” Aced made a noise that was a cross between disgruntled and relenting. “. . . I’m . . . sure the others will welcome the help.”

“Ven?” a young woman’s voice called.

Everyone turned to Aqua, Invi, and Ira just entering the library.

“I wasn’t expecting this many people,” Aqua said, mildly surprised. “But . . . it’s good that you’re all here.”

“We have something we need to discuss with all of you,” Invi said.

“So do we,” Aced stated.

-------------

[So I basically have that Luxu is still running around for whatever reason and the Foretellers are kind of sensitive about Ava still being missing. Mainly because of the whole role ordeal and what that lead to. So they're allowing help from Erica and the others without disclosing anything that might lead to the different roles they were given by the Master of Masters and Luxu's existence. But y'know, Gula let Luxu's name slip so that's going to be fun.

This week was soooo much fun and I'm looking forward to next year if there'll be one. I'm hoping by then I'll have at least the first book of Erica's adventures out in some form. But we'll see. ;)]

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serenelystrange · 5 years

Text

(Soul)Mates, or Something Like It

A fluffy family-feelsy little Leverage fic written for mintonarel as part of @stereksecretsanta 2019!

Summary: I tried my hand at a fluffy little Soulmates fic. SFW. A mix of canon and not-so-canon, rolled up into a ball of schmoop!

Read on AO3 , or under the cut!

They have just about all of the boxes loaded into the rented U-Haul when Scott cringes suddenly, head cocking in a way that reminds the Sheriff of the pint-sized yorkie he’d had as a kid.

“Stiles trip over himself and fall again?” he asks Scott, sweating under the unreasonably warm May sun.

“Yup,” Scott says, tilting his head again and laughing a moment later.

“He said he’s fine…and that my ‘fuzzy werewolf ass’ should be doing all the heavy lifting.”

The Sheriff shrugs in a way that doesn’t outright say he agrees, but may as well have.

“I’m just a super strong lackey to you people,” Scott huffs, giving the Sheriff a crooked grin and heading back into the apartment to rescue Stiles from the perils of moving anyway.

“Yeah, yeah,” the Sheriff says, before plopping himself down on the edge of the truck’s bed. It’s too damn hot to be moving house.

“Next time you find your soulmate, you’re the one who has to move,” Stiles says many hours later, collapsing onto his beat up futon in his new and only slightly Criminal Minds-esque shady apartment.

“There won’t be a next time,” Scott says, settling next to Stiles on the futon with not even a fraction of the sweaty grossness that has befallen the human. “That’s sort of the whole point.”

“Details, Scotty, just tiny little details,” Stiles sighs, waving his hand tiredly before dropping in over his closed eyes.

“And I offered to move out,” Scott reminds him. “Aly was looking at places and everything.”

Stiles just mumbles a bunch of nonsense under the hand that’s slipping down his face slowly. Scott, happening to have both exception hearing and a damn near PHD in Stiles-speak, understands him anyway.

“I appreciate it, buddy,” he says, knocking his knee against Stiles’ gently. “I’ll order us some pizza.”

“Yaaaay,” Stiles says around a yawn.

Scott just laughs and pulls out his phone to order, knowing Stiles will nap until it arrives.

“Can I ask you a weirdly personal question?”

Derek sighs deeply and turns away from where he’d been putting away clean dishes and leans against the kitchen counter. He crosses his arms against his check and cocks an eyebrow at Stiles.

“You’ve been doing so for the past ten years, since when do you ask permission?”

“I’m a new and enlightened man!” Stiles defends. “That careless busybody is a Stiles of the past!”

“A Stiles of… like three days ago, you mean,” Derek replies, but he’s fighting back the grin that wants to appear.

“He was unrefined and uncouth!” Stiles agrees.

“Those are pretty much the same thing,” Derek points out.

“Don’t distract me with your knowledge of linguistics!” Stiles says, pointing in way he hopes is menacing.

Derek lowers the eyebrow. It is not.

They stand in silence for a long awkward moment before Derek finally sighs again.

“Alright,” he says, “new, enlightened Stiles. Ask away.”

Stiles grins madly in victory for a second before settling his face back down.

“Do you have a Soulmark?” he asks, eyes scanning what little skin of Derek’s he can see for the telltale ridges.

Derek’s face does something complicated that only ten years of experience save Stiles from being scared that he’s having some sort of stroke.

“Yes,” he says, finally.

Another long and awkward pause.

“Hmm,” says Stiles, eloquently.

“Do you?” Derek asks, and Stiles feels himself inexplicably blushing as Derek’s eyes sweep over him in the same way he had done.

He shakes his head.

“I’m sad and soulmate-less,” he says, with an over-dramatic sigh. He barely takes a breath before the next question is out of his mouth.

“Can I see it?”

“Stiles,” Derek says sternly. “You know that’s a private thing.”

“Scott and Allison showed everyone!” Stiles defends. “They sent a picture in the group-chat!”

“Well,” Derek says, “If I ever find my supposed soulmate, I’ll put a picture in the group-chat too.”

“I’m sure they’re out there,” Stiles says, feeling bad for bringing the whole thing up. “But hey, at least your mark means that someone out there must have the same one, right?”

Derek shrugs, causally, as if he hasn’t spent entire nights awake wondering if anyone out there had his mark, and if he could ever be enough for somebody to love.

“It might all be bullshit anyway,” Stiles says, recognizing the angsty look across Derek’s face and hastening to move on. “I mean, neither of my parents had marks, and they loved each other more than anything in the world.”

“Total bullshit,” Derek agrees. “Now, my turn to ask you a personal question.”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing in my house?” Derek asks, deadpan.

The pen Stiles picks up from the table and throws misses him by several inches, but he flashes his eyes in mock anger anyway. He has a reputation after all.

“You just asked him to see his Soulmark?” Kira asks, in disbelief.

Stiles rolls his eyes and continues sanitizing the tiny chairs and tables now that his preschoolers have all gone home.

“It’s not like I asked to see his dick, jeez,” he says.

“Stiles!” Kira gasps, looking around furtively. “We’re at work!”

“The kids are all gone,” he counters.

“Fair enough,” Kira says. “I’m so glad I teach 5th grade. They’re less…sticky. Mostly.”

Stiles laughs and finally finishes cleaning the tables, tossing the used rags in the bin to be washed.

“Anyway,” he says. “I was just curious about his mark. I don’t have one, and it’s all Scott has been talking about lately, so it was on my mind.”

“I guess,” Kira says, before grinning. “Want to see mine?”

“Really?” Stiles asks, “it’s not too personal or whatever else you were lecturing me about?”

“Nah,” Kira says, “I don’t mind. Everyone is different, is all.”

“Bring it on, fox-y lady,” Stiles says, gesturing for her to proceed.

Kira rolls her eyes at the nickname but turns around and tucks her hair over one shoulder before tugging the back of her shirt down to reveal the mark sitting between her shoulder blades.

“It’s sort of a feather,” Stiles says, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the skin where it’s raised. “or like one side of a feather.”

“Two point three inches, 17 barbs,” Kira informs him.

At Stiles’ silence, she continues.

“Just figured I should know as many details as possible, in case I ever find my match. There’s a lot of feathers in the world.”

“It’s cool looking,’ Stiles says once Kira has fixed her shirt and hair, and turned back around.

“Thanks!” she says, giving Stiles her sunniest grin.

“I’m sure there’s someone out there for you too, you know, “she says. “You don’t need a mark to have a soulmate. And you don’t need a soulmate to have love.”

“I know,” Stiles says, “it just sometimes feels like I’m missing out on something, you know?”

“Welcome to your late twenties, babe,” Kira says, cackling slightly. “We’re all a bunch of hot messes.”

And really, all Stiles can do is agree.

He’s been in his new apartment nearly three months and Stiles still jumps in shock every time he comes home to find Derek there, more often than not curled up on his futon under his cheap Spiderman blanket from Walmart, fast asleep.

He hasn’t quite worked up the nerve to ask Derek why he just shows up sometimes. The dark circles under his eyes make him think that maybe the nightmares Derek swears are gone aren’t all that gone after all.

“Where are all your other betas, sleepy-wolf?” Stiles asks, knowing Derek will have started waking up the second he heard Stiles coming up the stairs.

“Boyd and Erica are driving out east to visit his family,” Derek says, not moving or opening his eyes. “And Isaac is working, or something, I don’t know. He wasn’t home.” He yawns widely, but stays where he is. “And you’re Scott’s beta, not mine.”

“I’m a human being, thank you very much,” Stiles says. “And I can be part of both of your little clubs at the same time. So there.”

“That’s not really how that works,” Derek says.

Stiles shrugs, unconcerned. “I belong to no city, I belong to no man!”

“Ok, Halsey,” Derek snorts, finally un-cocooning himself and sitting up. His hair is all mussed up and the blanket is still firmly wrapped around his shoulders. Stiles finds it almost unbearable endearing.

“Look at you with your pop culture references!” he says, instead of blurting out something about how goddamn adorable Derek and his sleepy eyes are.

“Watch the Simpsons with me?” Derek asks, ignoring Stiles’ teasing altogether.

“Early seasons only, man,” Stiles says, but he doesn’t say no.

He drops his stuff into a pile against the wall and finally closes the door. Derek scoots to one side of the futon to make space. Stiles settles in and tucks himself under the half of the blanket Derek tosses over him. It’s warm and cozy against the chill of the air conditioned apartment, and it smells like the hippie soap that he just knows Derek sneaks out to the farmer’s market to buy when nobody is watching.

Derek’s thigh is so close to his that he can feel the heat of it seeping through his own jeans, and he suppresses the shivers that threaten to run up his spine at the thought. The familiar opening song plays on the tv, and Stiles resigns himself to another night of quiet pining.

“In retrospect,” Stiles says, between gasping for air, “Paintball with a bunch of were-creatures who can literally hear my heartbeat was a terrible idea.”

“Not for us!” Erica calls out from the other side of the field somewhere.

“I’m one giant bruise now!” Stiles yells back, even though he’s well aware she can hear him just fine at his normal speaking voice.

“Sorry, bro!” Scott yells out from another direction, followed quickly by sputtering curses as someone, probably Isaac, pelts him with paintballs. Stiles allows himself a moment to snicker, even if Scott won’t bruise like he will.

“Easy on the human!” Derek calls out, just loud enough for the supernaturals to hear while not alerting any nearby strangers.

“You heard Loverboy,” Erica says, laughing even as Kira takes the opportunity to catch her right in the arm.

“He’s not my…never mind,” Stiles says, sighing.

“Not if you keep ignoring each other’s Very Obvious Signals,” Boyd says, appearing just long enough to shoot them both point-blank in the chest with blue paint before disappearing into the obstacles again.

“There are no signals!” Stiles yells, starting to burn red with embarrassment. He knows his crush on Derek must be obvious from the moon, but the pack doesn’t usually call him out so viciously.

“Right,” Derek says, and Stiles is suddenly struck by the tone of his voice. If Stiles didn’t know any better, he could swear that Derek almost sounded…sad.

“Der?” he asks, realizing slowly that Derek hasn’t left his side since the moment he’d started complaining about getting hit too hard.

“It’s ok,” Derek says, giving him a small smile. “I know you don’t have feelings for me, ignore my asshole betas.”

His words finally comprehend in Stiles’ brain, and he suddenly understands what all those old novels meant when they described swooning.

“My legs are Jell-O,” he says, when what he means is “I love you, what the hell are you even talking about, no feelings for you???”

Derek reaches out at once, concerned. “Did a paintball hit a nerve or something?” he asks, grabbing onto Stiles’ upper arm to steady him.

“Your brains are Jell-O!” a voice calls out from a bunch of crates somewhere behind them.

“How can you even hear us, Melissa?” Stiles yells back, gesturing vaguely in her direction.

“Scott is eavesdropping!” she calls back, helpfully.

“Mom!” Scott yelps. “Be cool!”

Stiles sighs and decides to just ignore them all and finally face his fears.

“My legs are fine. The Jell-O is a metaphor. Or a simile? No, a metaphor. It’s… I mean, I’m not hurt.”

Derek just continues to watch him carefully, afraid to say the wrong thing when he’s finally so close.

“You have feelings for me?” he asks Derek, managing to make eye contact for three whole seconds before having to look away.

“Little bit,” Derek says, quietly, still looking about ready to flee at any moment.

“Awesome,” Stiles says after a beat, breaking out into a giant grin. “Because I don’t know how you didn’t notice, but I’m ridiculously in love with you.”

Derek’s face is frozen in shock and Stiles is slightly concerned that he’s broken him.

“So, there’s that,” he adds. “You ok there, big guy?”

“Processing,” is all Derek says, but his face is slowly softening into an expression that Stiles doesn’t see nearly enough.

“You look happy,” he says, dumbly.

Derek laughs at that, loud and sudden, and that set Stiles off too, until they’re both laughing so hard their chests ache with it.

“You should kiss me,” Stiles says, once they’ve finally caught their breath and made their way off the field and back to the Camaro.

Derek leans against the car, dashingly James Dean for a moment before he breaks and grins again.

“Should I?” he asks, already reaching out to grab Stiles by his paint splattered coveralls and pull him in.

“You should,” Stiles says, letting himself be pulled.

And so he does.

“I leave for one month and I miss you two finally figuring it out!”

Stiles just snorts at Lydia’s outburst and goes back to applying sunscreen to Derek’s shoulders and back.

“You know I won’t burn, right?” Derek asks, turning his head back to smirk at Stiles.

“Shhh,” Stiles says, “And turn around so I can get your chest.”

“Nope!” the Sheriff cuts in and grabs the bottle from Stiles’ hands. “This is a family pool party, you aren’t getting handsy with your boyfriend in front of innocent eyes.”

“Everyone here is an adult,” Stiles argues, reaching for the bottle in vain.

“I meant my eyes, son,” the Sherriff replies, tossing the bottle across the way to a waiting Melissa. “They don’t want to see that.”

Derek can’t help but laugh and pulls Stiles back to rest against his thankfully dry chest.

“We can pick that up later,” he whispers, rubbing his cheek against Stiles’ just for a moment.

Stiles shivers pleasantly with tingles and decides that he suddenly very much needs to take a dip in Lydia’s cold pool.

“Who’s the new girl?” Lydia asks Stiles later, as they sit with their feet in the pool and catch up while the others are attempting to combine Jenga and beer pong into something resembling a playable game.

“Her name’s Malia,” Stiles says, “she works with Isaac at the Sanctuary.”

“She can hear you, too,” Malia calls out from where she’s watching the Jenga-Pong creation with glee.

“Wolf?” Lydia asks, giving the other girl a small wave.

“Were-coyote,” Stiles says.

“No kidding,” Lydia says, “that’s different.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” Malia says, suddenly much closer than she was before. She plops down beside Lydia and grins. She leans in and scents the air without shame.

“Ooh, Banshee. And I thought the pretty little fox was the only outlier.”

From behind them somewhere, a glass bottle falls and hits the patio with a loud thud.

“She’s shy, too,” Malia says, delight apparent in her eyes.

Before Stiles can even come up with a response, Malia is gesturing at the hair tie around Lydia’s wrist.

“Do you mind?” she asks. I want to get back in the pool but don’t want my hair to get wet.”

“Sure,” Lydia says, handing it over before excusing herself to go get a drink.

“I scared her off” Malia says, “whoops.”

“She’ll warm up to you if you stick around long enough,” Stiles shrugs, pointedly not watching as Malia’s swimsuit soaks and clings to her ample chest.

“Don’t worry,” she says, hearing his pulse spike. “I know you’re with Isaac’s alpha.”

“Derek,” Stiles corrects automatically.

“That’s the one,” Malia agrees. “Shit, I didn’t think this through and my hands are all wet now. Can you put my hair up?”

“I can try,” Stiles says, taking the borrowed hair tie and letting Malia turn around so he can pull her hair up into what he hopes is a passable high ponytail.

He’s smoothing up the baby hairs at her neck when his fingers brush against bumps just under her hairline.

“My Soulmark,” Malia explains. “It’s a bitch to see unless you’re looking for it.”

“Is that a feather?” Stiles asks, a strange anticipation creeping into his stomach.

“Mhm,” Malia says, turning back around once Stiles is done, unaware of the internal freak out that Stiles is going through.

“Is it two point three inches with 17 barbs, by any chance?” Stiles asks.

“How the hell did you know that?” Malia asks, squinting at him in suspicion.

“I bet your answer is arriving just as soon as it snaps out of shock,” Stiles says, just a moment before he feels Kira’s hand on his shoulder, tugging him to his feet.

“Bye!” he says, and flees to the relative safety of the game shenanigans.

By the time he gets back to Derek, Kira and Malia are talking animatedly by the pool, matching grins on their faces, feet tangling in the pool.

Stiles spends Christmas morning wrapped up in the blankets with Derek, hardly able to believe it’s been half a year since they finally got their act together.

“Merry Christmas, der-bear,” he sing-songs, running his fingers idly across Derek’s ribs, over the Soulmark that he’s finally been allowed to see.

“No,” Derek says, wrinkling his nose at the nickname Stiles refuses to give up.

“Pumpkin?” Stiles asks, grinning.

“No.”

“Sugar? Sweetums?” Stiles tries, tickling his fingers over Derek’s chest just to make him twitch.

Derek grabs his hand and holds it still against his chest where it was, right over his mark, right under his heart.

“How about Soulmate?” he offers Stiles, knowing he’s won when Stiles just sputters in response.

“But I don’t have a mark,” Stiles says finally, and he sounds so utterly heartbroken that Derek turns around immediately so he can kiss Stiles into a smile.

“Don’t need a mark to know,” Derek says, running his thumb across Stiles’ cheekbone soothingly. “Nothing has ever felt as right as you do. Soulmark or not, you’re it for me.”

“Don’t you dare make me cry on Christmas, you bastard!” Stiles says, eyes watery and mouth getting suspiciously wobbly.

“Ok,” Derek says simply, wiping the wetness away from Stiles’ eyes. “I’ll just tell you I love you, and you can pretend to be sleeping, and later we’ll make waffles and you’ll tell you love me too once the coffee kicks in.”

“Sounds perfect,” Stiles says, yawning against Derek’s chest.

And it is.

The End

#Sterek #Sterek fic #Sterek Secret Santa 2019

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