"I don’t wear makeup so I don’t have to waste like an hour in front of the mirror every morning hahahaha"
"open books not legs"
"why have tequila shots when you can have tea?"
"As always, late with Starbucks"
"modest is hottest"
"I’m not like those girls”
the devil wears prada is a lie, i’m literally just wearing a white tee
i’m not even sure anymore whether I like high school musical ironically or I genuinely think it’s a cinematic masterpiece
ok but if this happened you guys wouldnt get any more fic because I would be dead
Derek in uniform. posing so his gun is noticeable
giving soulful looks to troubled teens on the wrong side of the tracks
drinking coffee because cops evidently like that - HE IS MAINTAINING A FACADE OKAY
leaning on things
The first time Derek puts on the new uniform, he can’t help but grin proudly at himself in the mirror. It’s a little snug, but he can probably get a better fitting one later when Kelsey gets back from vacation. He adjusts the belt on his hip, taking a deep breath. This is it, Hale, you’ve got a respectable job now, things are definitely looking up, Derek thinks.
He walks into the station and everyone greets him warmly. The Sheriff walks past his desk, dropping a folder onto it and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Good to have you here, son,” he says, “I know you’ll do me proud,” and Derek inwardly has to stop himself from beaming happily like a puppy in front of all the fools in the drunk tank.
It’s a pretty good first day, Derek thinks, and he and the Sheriff actually make some headway on the serial killer (not actually supernatural) case that they’re working on. Derek sips the awful coffee from the breakroom, nodding to himself while he leans against the wall, adopting what he thinks is a stoic cop stance. It seems to be working.
At about four p.m. the doors open and Stiles bursts into the station. “Guess who’s back from their first quarter of college without gaining the freshman fifteen!” Stiles announces giddily, and Derek listens with amusement to Stiles bantering with his dad about food and such.
The conversation ends with “I’ll see you at home, Stiles, I need to focus on this case right now, why don’t you go bother my new deputy?”
And Stiles leaves the office, grumbling under his breath about Scott being busy and what else is he supposed to do, when he turns around and sees Derek leaning against the doorjamb of the breakroom, drinking his coffee quietly.
Stiles blinks, and his eyes travel the length of Derek’s body. “Oh,” he says in a small voice. “Hi, Derek,” Stiles says, and Derek can see the faint blush starting to appear high on his cheeks.
Okay, so maybe Derek’s going to keep the tight uniform.