useless is as useless does
-> US style, banked track Roller Derby tonight! I'm looking forward to it as we only have flat track in Australia. It's a tour of 2 US teams and it should be fun! Waiting at works for peeps because I work in a business park that also happens to house the stadium this is on at so, convenient! I love free work parking for things.
-> I've tried getting into Walking Dead every season with the first few eps because ZOMBIES are my favorite, edging out werewolves, but alas, I find something to hate and something that's awful about it with every season. I had hope for Season 3 because the jail is interesting and there was ALMOST kickass women roadtripping with deluxe pack-zombies but they ruined it, of course, by having the MOST BORING SINISTER TOWN IN EXISTENCE. Ugh.
-> Instead of working on the 6 dozen other stories I SHOULD be working on, instead I've written 10k (am not finished, gah!) of Papa Stilinski gets bitten fic. It will be Derek/Stiles and there are FEELS. Oh so many FEELS. When does this show start again? Does the Sherriff have a first name?? Gah!
Stiles is sitting outside the emergency department with his head balanced on his knees when he's hauled roughly to his feet. Stiles flails for a second before the searching hands and rough grumbling register as Derek and then Stiles goes limp, putting up with whatever reassurance Derek needs to give himself before he'll listen to actual words.
"Where are you hurt?" Derek demands, gripping Stiles by the shoulders and obviously resisting the urge to shake him, because he's wary of undiscovered injury.
"I'm not," Stiles says, bats Derek's hands away when he resumes patting Stiles down for himself. "No, Derek, I'm not, okay? I'm-" Stiles nearly says fine but he can't quite manage it because he's currently worlds away from fine.
"Why are you here?"
"I told you that."
"No, you mumbled something then hung up on me. I had to track you here."
"Like a bloodhound?" Stiles asks, blinking and Derek looks hilariously aggravated.
"More like someone who rang the number back you called me from and asked."
"Oh, that's not quite as cool," Stiles says and Derek's grip on him tightens. "Ow, ease up. I'm not a stress ball."
"Stiles."
"Okay, it's my dad. He said it was a giant dog, but how likely is that with the ol' Stilinski luck. He's worried about rabies, jesus, it's the last thing-"
"Stiles!"
-> I've tried getting into Walking Dead every season with the first few eps because ZOMBIES are my favorite, edging out werewolves, but alas, I find something to hate and something that's awful about it with every season. I had hope for Season 3 because the jail is interesting and there was ALMOST kickass women roadtripping with deluxe pack-zombies but they ruined it, of course, by having the MOST BORING SINISTER TOWN IN EXISTENCE. Ugh.
-> Instead of working on the 6 dozen other stories I SHOULD be working on, instead I've written 10k (am not finished, gah!) of Papa Stilinski gets bitten fic. It will be Derek/Stiles and there are FEELS. Oh so many FEELS. When does this show start again? Does the Sherriff have a first name?? Gah!
Stiles is sitting outside the emergency department with his head balanced on his knees when he's hauled roughly to his feet. Stiles flails for a second before the searching hands and rough grumbling register as Derek and then Stiles goes limp, putting up with whatever reassurance Derek needs to give himself before he'll listen to actual words.
"Where are you hurt?" Derek demands, gripping Stiles by the shoulders and obviously resisting the urge to shake him, because he's wary of undiscovered injury.
"I'm not," Stiles says, bats Derek's hands away when he resumes patting Stiles down for himself. "No, Derek, I'm not, okay? I'm-" Stiles nearly says fine but he can't quite manage it because he's currently worlds away from fine.
"Why are you here?"
"I told you that."
"No, you mumbled something then hung up on me. I had to track you here."
"Like a bloodhound?" Stiles asks, blinking and Derek looks hilariously aggravated.
"More like someone who rang the number back you called me from and asked."
"Oh, that's not quite as cool," Stiles says and Derek's grip on him tightens. "Ow, ease up. I'm not a stress ball."
"Stiles."
"Okay, it's my dad. He said it was a giant dog, but how likely is that with the ol' Stilinski luck. He's worried about rabies, jesus, it's the last thing-"
"Stiles!"