It’s a 7 year long drama but basically Kanye dropped a song called Famous and in it there was a lyric that was like “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex / I made that bitch famous” - and everyone was like “Yo Kanye, what the fuck man?” - but then Kanye tweeted and was like “By the way, I played Taylor that song, asked her if it was okay, told her if she had issue with it I wouldn’t do it, but she Ok’d it” (I can’t give sources because Kanye had like, a mental breakdown and deleted his social media).
Then Taylor steps up and denies these claims, saying she would never okay something like that, shows up to the Grammy’s and is like “On the way to success there’s going to be people that undercut you”, basically just drags Kanye and makes out like he’s totally lying about the whole thing, and that she’s been lied about and is the victim still. Taylor’s little group of over paid under talented friends step in and give their opinion on it, naturally supporting Taylor. Kanye doesn’t say anything else to defend himself, not much point doing anything else when Taylor’s got her whole squad dragging him.
Then Kim Kardashian West, who up until this point had kept out of it, is like “At this point, I don’t give a fuck, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my man” and so she drops the recording of the phonecall between Kanye and Taylor, where he quite clearly plays her the song, then asks her repeatedly if she’s okay with it, and says he wouldnt do it if she wasn’t, and she quite clearly said she was fine with it and that it was a joke and it was whatever. And so Taylor is exposed as a god damn liar, who literally does not give a fuck what she has to do to make herself look better. And that’s where the snake thing came from bc after that people spammed her insta and twitter with the snake emoji bc people were over her gross ass.
Like don’t get me wrong, Kanye has done many a shitty thing, but Taylor literally manipulated him and the situation so people would feel sorry for her. She preaches about “strong women” and yet she constantly tries to make herself look the victim so she gets the world’s sympathy. To conclude: she’s the fakest woman in showbusiness, potentially the fakest person regardless of gender, and I’m Over Her.
So. Please hear me out. I'm not asking too much (I think). What if FBI can't find Derek because he's hiding as a wolf? And then when Stiles tracks him down because he's awesome and kind of paranoid these days; his team thinks he's being crazy chasing a wild wolf (because his colleagues are noisy Little shits like him) but instead this wild wolf actually... Likes him? And now the Wolf is like a mascot of the pre FBI team and I'm crying that no one is writing this
What I love most about this is the image of Derek Hale getting adopted by the FBI as a pet……while still trying to hunt down Derek Hale.
Stiles would find this wildly amusing but even more so, Derek would probably get a huge kick out of it. He never seems to get a moments rest, always on the run from someone. And now here he is, getting free doughnuts from the very people who are trying to put him away.
The irony is far from lost on him. He and Stiles probably have a lot of fun with it at home. Stiles would make far too many puns, mind, but Derek finds he secretly loves him them.
Sitting at Stiles’ feet at his desk - probably getting his head scratched - as he listens to Stiles’ colleagues talk about how “dangerous Hale is” and that he should “never approach Hale alone”. Stiles nodding seriously and then, later, coming home to find a very human Derek in his bed.
“Approach with caution, Officer,” Derek says, grinning. “I could be armed.”
“Good thing I brought these then,” Stiles replies, winking and holding up a pair of hand cuffs, “isn’t it.”
Okay that Derek's soft hands post was awesome, but it was funny too cos like, imagine if his hands aren't actually that soft? My uncle's been working roadworks for years and a few years back he started buying Dove soap instead of the cheap brand and he loved it so much he started buying the moisturiser too and like, at least twice a day he would lather moisturise the shit out a them then go around telling everyone to feel how soft his hands were. But they still felt like sandpaper and no one (1)
would say anything because he’s this big, rough as guts dude named Spike who was in prison for years and god help whoever tells my uncle who loves to linger in the health and beauty aisle to see the different moisturisers, that they aren’t doing jack for his hands.
Sorry for the very late reply to this! Now all I can imagine is Derek who tries to pamper himself with lotions and potions but no matter what he does, it never seems to work out? No matter how much he tries to make himself feel soft and good, it always backfires. It’s either got an ingredient that make his senses go hay-wire (apparently aloe-vera is the worst) or it just doesn’t make him feel better. Derek imagines it’s a similar feeling to when people expect amazing sex, only to feel unsatisfied after. Derek’s never expected amazing sex from anyone though, not even Kate when he trusted her, so he doesn’t know if the comparison is all that accurate.
It’s after he tries the Peaches and Cream Ultra Lotion that he hits rock bottom, sitting on the loft floor, staring at the offending lotion bottle. He’s pretty sure the right hand side peach is taunting him. For the smoothest skin, reads the speech bubble. Derek rubs at the pads of his fingers and tries not to get upset because it’s a fucking lotion. But here he is anyway, drowning in the after math of yet another lie.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there for but it’s long enough that Stiles shows up, armed with a bat. At first, it’s clear Stiles thinks Derek is hurt - probably because he is still sulking on the floor - but the moment he crouches in front of him, he immediately takes in the lotion bottle and raises an eyebrow. Derek expects him to laugh or throw some careless comment his way. Braces himself for it. What he doesn’t expect is for Stiles to pluck the bottle from Derek’s hand and replace it with his own. He holds it loose enough that Derek could pull away if he wanted to.
He doesn’t want to.
Instead, he sniffs. This big, loud, wet sniff that he wants to be embarrassed about. Except, he isn’t. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Stiles give himself a concussion from a chicken baguette once (he still doesn’t know how Stiles managed that one) or maybe it’s because Stiles is smiling at him; smiling in a way Derek rarely sees. It’s the smile he reserves for his dad, for Scott. It’s a smile you earn, and it’s being directed at him right now. It’s a smile, Derek realises, Stiles has shown him often. For months now. He doesn’t know what that means.
He squeezes Stiles’ hand anyway, shrugs a shoulder and picks up the lotion bottle again. Grips it. Hard.
It explodes, and before he knows it, they are both on their sides, laughing. Derek doesn’t know if Stiles is laughing because he is or because they are both covered in pink gunk.
“It smells like peaches,” Stiles wheezes, as if that explains everything. “Derek Hale. Likes to smell like peaches.” He clutches his side harder and uses his legs to push himself further into Derek’s space, until his head is in Derek’s lap. “I think you’re amazing just as you are, wolf man, but if you want my mom kept recipes for stuff like that.” He nods to the now broken bottle, still in Derek’s hand. “They are all in a box under my bed. You want to come over later, get some dinner with me and my old man? There’s a Mets game on.”
Derek is silent for several moments, trying to decipher what Stiles is saying. Eventually, he decides not to overthink it. If he overthinks it, Stiles might take the offer back. Might drop his hand.
Derek really doesn’t want Stiles to drop his hand.
“I can make veggie burgers.” He coughs. Serious. “From scratch.”
Stiles smiles with his eyes, brings Derek’s hand up to his mouth but doesn’t kiss it, like Derek thinks he’s going to. Just looks down fondly, like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Shit, maybe they have, he thinks, swallowing. In their own way. “You learn that in werewolf school?”
Derek laughs. “Something like that,” he says, thinking of his Grandma, who taught him everything he knows: cooking, sewing, how to swear in eight different languages. When she was old enough, Grandpa Hale taught Laura how to drive while Grandma Hale read The Princess Bride to Derek in Spanish every Friday night. Derek always thought he got the better end of the deal.
“Show me.” Stiles grins, a challenge, and somethings shifts inside Derek. He tries to frown, because it’s expected of him, but he ends up blushing instead when Stiles leans up and whispers, “next time, I’ll get you one of those aprons that say kiss the cook on them, huh?” in his ear. “I think you’ll find I’m very good at obeying instructions.”
Derek rolls his eyes and pushes him away. His palms are sweating. “You don’t even know what the word ‘obey’ means.”
Standing up, he starts towards the kitchen, only to find himself on the floor again, tripping over nothing, when Stiles calls after him, “maybe I just need a firm hand to keep me in check!”
The bastard doesn’t even look sorry when Derek pounces on him, pinning Stiles’ hands above his head - rough hands, just like his, he realises- but Derek is too busy torn between wrestling Stiles and kissing him to care.
Anonymous said: Can I share Thor Ragnarok headcanons with you? Because I cannot stop smiling about how the Grandmaster’s theme song is definitely Rake It Up while Loki’s is Once Upon A Time I Was A Hoe, and it’s not even that funny but I have to share this with someone.
There’s something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can’t quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.
There’s something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.
Derek didn’t know what was worse: the hunters, being trapped as a wolf, being hit by a car, or the fact that he had somehow become some kid’s pet dog for the unforeseeable future.
I know I have read a few one-shots or shorter fics with this trope too - it’s one of my favourites! - but I’m struggling to remember what they are. (Note to self: bookmark stuff, Emma. It will come in handy.) Lucky for you, there are other people on this site who do take note of what they read. There is this rec list by @bleep0bleep that you might want to check out!
I’m also going to tag @dontgobrienmyheart @sterek and @littlerosetrove because they are all great with fic recs (Rose has a ton, all catalogued I am sure) and I know Billy has a personal love of wolf!Derek (which might, hopefully spill over into the mistaken for a dog!Derek category).
If anyone else has recs for this trope, please feel free to reblog - nonnie and me would be most grateful!