save my kitten

Bishin and Shouhei on HeyHey Talk!

There’s actually cake inside that balloon and it’s their prize.  And Shouhei really thought his heart was going to stop, but the cake was super fluffy and soft and light so I guess the shock was worth it lol.

Written for @geekinthejeep for the @bittersamgirlclub‘s Secret Santa exchange. I hope you enjoy the 3,615 words of Sam loving on some kittens with a side of light wincest.

The smell of smoke is thick in the night air. The second floor on the south side of the house is flaring up in 20 foot flames. The north side, around the back of the house is waterlogged and covered in moss and mold, too wet for the fire to catch. The house is burning unevenly, but it won’t be long before the heat of the fire dries it out enough for the whole thing to burn. This case was a nasty one, the old floorboards of the house were soaked in so much innocent blood that they had to salt and burn the whole damn thing to make sure all the spirits were laid to rest. So Dean stands next to Sam as they watch the house burn.

It’s not a bad way to spend a night, standing shoulder to shoulder with Sam and watching the red and gold light of the fire slowly consume the house, the smoke and ash rising in plumes against the star-filled sky. Dean’s just about to suggest they either grab a couple of beers or hit the road when Sam startles beside him.

“Did you see that?” Sam says, pointing to the bushes on the far side of the overgrown driveway. Dean catches a flash of movement in the underbrush, then a low shadow streaks across the ground toward the back of the house where the flames have yet to spread.

“Oh no,” Sam says and sprints toward the house.

“Sam!” Dean yells and follows hard on Sam’s heels, nearly crashing into Sam when he skids to a halt. Sam is bent over his knees, peering into the shrubs where the shadow came from.

“Oh no,” Sam says again, voice strained with urgency, and bolts to the backdoor of the house – the house that they just doused in salt and gasoline and set ablaze.

Dean’s brain refuses to process the key facts of the situation, namely Sam running full tilt into a burning building, and during the second his thoughts stutter over Sam and fire and Sam running into fire, Deans eyes fall on a small black shape squirming in the underbrush. A kitten. Which means the shadow they saw was probably the mother cat trying to get her kittens out of the house. And that means that Sam just ran into a burning house to rescue a fucking cat.

Keep reading

There was a loud meow, followed by a quiet cracking noise, from the spare bedroom. Brian got there just in time to see the first Purrloin push herself out of the pile of fractured eggshell, mewling near-silently as she squirmed around on the bed sheets.

She was tiny – less than the size of Brian’s hand – and slightly damp, eyes still closed as she instinctively crawled towards her mother. Priscilla herself purred happily as she gently licked off the newborn’s fur. Meanwhile, the shell of the second egg slowly started to flake away.

Brian’s not crying. He’s absolutely not crying.

…Screw it, he’s sobbing. His Pokémon’s an actual mom now, and they’re so small and helpless and adorable, and he just can’t deal with it.

A poem about autism and how it affects friendship
by Brother Cat

I can’t swim.

I tried learning, but I could never get it right.
The motions are foreign to me.
I can’t coordinate.

I look at the people swimming and having fun.
I’ve tried to join.
And I’ve drowned so many times
Dragged back to shore barely breathing.

It’s just part of my life.
I can’t swim, I never pass the shallows anymore.
I can kayak, but no one wants to kayak.
No one wants to stroll the shore
Just looking for smooth pebbles or seashells

Everyone has so much fun swimming.
They feel free.
They’re with friends.
And I’m alone on the shore
Hands full of driftwood and sea-polished glass.

It seems everyone loves to swim.

But I can’t swim.


Summary: the reader is Stiles’s little sister and takes a definite interest in Liam after a lacrosse game which doesn’t fly too well with Stiles

Note: Hey so I know that I have a lot of requests that I need to write still but this idea popped in my head and I just had to write it. Sorry if it’s cheesy. :P I am working on all the requests though and am hoping to have them all done soon! :)

“Hey Y/N I- oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

           I glanced at my older brother out of the corner of my eyes as I turned the page. “What?”

           Stiles huffed. “You’re still reading?”

           Sniffing, I muttered, “Obviously.” It was hard to focus on my book when Stiles was having a little bitch fit in my doorway, so I reluctantly slipped my bookmark in place, crossing my arms and turning to glare at him. “Is that a problem?”

           “No, of course not- I mean, other than the fact that all you ever do is read. And eat. Then there’s the occasional bathroom trip, and… sometimes you sleep, I think. Or do you just suck energy out of the pages or something?”

           Rolling my eyes, I answered, “I didn’t realize reading was crime. Shoot me.”

           “Gladly, but that’s illegal.” Stiles sauntered across my bedroom as if I had invited him in, flopping down in my rolly-chair. I watched him carefully as he began to spin. “Listen, so, I was thinking… you spent the entire summer locked up in here, and then most of the first semester… why don’t you try coming up for air? Take a break from the books for one night. I promise your silly little Romeo won’t miss you too much.”

           I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at the cover. “This is a book about middle schoolers discovering that they’re demigods.” Flipping the book over so that the summary was visible, I slid it across the bedspread for him to snatch up. “I honestly doubt Romeo is going to be making a guest appearance any time soon. Even if he did, I wouldn’t label him as silly. He’s more impulsive.”

           Stiles didn’t say anything; his calculating eyes were sweeping up and down the small paragraph. “Don’t strain yourself, slick.” I mumbled. He scoffed as he tossed the book back lightly.

           “What kind of name is ‘Percy’ anyway?”

           “Okay, dude, you really shouldn’t be talking about weird first names.” I smirked. “But if you must know, it’s short for Perseus. He’s named after the Greek hero who-”

           “-slayed Medusa and all that jazz. Yeah, got it. Read the Odyssey during freshman year.”

           I cocked my head to the side. “The Odyssey isn’t about Medusa or Perseus. It’s about Odysseus’s journey back to Ithaca after the Trojan War, and all the trouble he faced.”

           Stiles made a face. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Back to my original point, if you please. You need to get out. There’s a lacrosse game tonight. You should come.”

           I raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually going to be playing this time?”

           Snorting, Stiles hauled himself up and out of my chair. “Yes, of course… probably… maybe.” He stopped short in the threshold. “Just, c’mon, please, Y/N.”

           I groaned. “Fine. Get out. I have to get dressed.”

           Pumping his fist in the air, Stiles ran over to me quickly, grabbing my face in his hands and placing a sloppy kiss on my forehead. I screamed and swung at him. He sprinted out of my room, laughing. What an idiot.


           The bleachers were packed. I was honestly surprised. Who would have thought that this many people would actually show up? Especially with dorks like my brother and his goofy friend Scott on the team.

           I never really understood lacrosse all that well. All I knew was that it was kind of like football with sticks, I guess. That’s how it looked to me, anyways. It was very violent, and the ultimate objective was to throw the ball into the goal. Then again, there’s not a goalie in football… maybe it’s more like soccer but played with sticks…

           My phone vibrated. I fished it out of my back pocket. It was a text from Dad, asking where I was. He seemed surprised that I was actually out of the house. What can I say? I’m a home-body. I don’t like people or leaving my house for any reason.

           Once I had assured Dad that I was indeed okay, that Stiles had not kidnapped me against my will, and that the scoreboard indicated that Beacon Hills was winning, he concluded the conversation, hoping that I would have fun.

           Yes, because sitting alone at the top of some rickety bleachers surrounded by people you don’t know that are screaming at the top of their lungs as they watch a game you don’t understand definitely qualifies as fun.

           Still, I tried to stay optimistic. Scott had bought me a bag of candy, and Stiles gave me the rest of his Coke. My iPod was sort of helping to block out the crowd’s ridiculous roar.

           The stadium lights flickered on with a bang as night started to descend. The glare provided just enough light for me to take out my book and read. Score!


           I was in the zone. In my head, I was negotiating with Hades to the beat of Thunder Kiss ’65 by White Zombie… or was it Rob Zombie? He had switched at some point, but I forgot to which one.

           Suddenly, something flew right into my lap, causing me to scream and toss my book over the side of the bleachers in my moment of terror. Hand over my heart, gasping for air, I cautiously moved back to my original spot to see… a damn lacrosse ball.

           Furiously, I yanked out my headphones. “Stiles, you asshole!” I screamed, shoving my iPod into my bag, along with my snacks. The headphones were probably going to get tangled, but I was too pissed to care at the moment.

           At the foot of the bleachers, laughing, were the two biggest idiots I had ever laid my eyes on. When they saw me start to stomp down the silver steps, they both pointed at each other bestowing the blame of throwing the ball. I didn’t care who did it, to be frank. I was going to kill them both for good measure.

           “What the hell?” I shrieked when I jumped off the last step, standing toe-to-toe with my brother. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

           Scott snickered. “Your heart sounds fine to me.”

           I scowled. “You too, McCall! I can’t believe you! And here I thought that you were the perfect little gentleman… puppy… whatever. You’re just as much of a dog as Stiles!”

           “Dog remarks, huh?” Stiles flicked my nose. “Real classy, sis.”

           I swatted his hand away. “Oh, don’t you ‘sis’ me. I’ve had enough of you. First you make me leave the house, then you refuse to take me to the library-”

           “-hey, I was running late for the game-”

           “-and now this? Are you kidding me right now Stiles? And you wonder why I don’t want to come out of my room. It’s because you two bozos take every opportunity to tease the piss out of me, and I can’t stand it!”

           Scott scratched the back of his neck. “Y/N, I’m sorry… you’re just really easy to mess with. It’s funny. Please don’t be mad.”

           I mimicked him with a high voice, and Stiles rolled his eyes. “How mature.”

           “More than you are.”

           “Alright, whatever you say. I think it’s past your bedtime now; that’s probably why you’re so crabby. Go sit in the Jeep. I’ll be out of the locker room in like two minutes.”

           “Past my bed- boy, you do realize-”

           Coach Finstock cut me off. “Hey, McCall! Stilinski, and… smaller Stilinski! Get off the field!” Shoving past Stiles’s shoulder, I made my way over to the side of the bleachers.

           Stiles stalked after me. “Um, where do you think you’re going?”

           “To find my book, which fell over the edge when you threw a freaking ball at me like a five year old.”


           Eventually Stiles and Scott left me the hell alone, retreating to the locker room. Meanwhile, I strolled under the bleachers, neck aching as I scowered the ground for any glimpse of the green book. Damn. I was going to kill my idiot brother and his idiot friend.

           “Um, excuse me?”

           Gasping I whirled around to see a boy about my age standing back where I came. He was taller than I was, no doubt, with blond hair and blue eyes. His lips were pursed slightly, as if he were mulling over the words he wanted to say. When he stepped forward slightly, my heart skipped a beat.

           What was scarier at the moment? Bleachers somehow falling on top of me, or a boy I don’t know approaching me in the dark?

           Definitely the boy.

           Strangely enough, as soon as my heart beat escalated, the boy held his hands up slightly, as if trying not to disturb a frightened animal, and took three steps back, placing him the light. He looked like he was fresh from the shower with his wet hair and shirt that was sticking to his chest. “I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I just thought… were you looking for this?”

           In his hands was my copy of the Lightning Thief.

           “Yes!” I lunged, eagerly reaching for the book. I nearly plowed over him. “Sorry. Yeah, that’s mine. My brother scared me and I dropped it. Thanks.”

           “It’s no problem.” He shrugged, and the simple gesture made me think that he really believed it. “I just saw it and didn’t want you to be out here by yourself. There’s… you know…” He looked as embarrassed as I felt.

           “What’s your name?” I asked randomly, licking over my lips.

           “M-my name?” He looked startled. Why? Did he have something to hide? “I’m Liam.” He chewed his lower lip.

           “Well, it’s wonderful to meet you, Liam. You’re my hero. My knight in shining armor. My kitten-saving fire-fighter.” I joked, attempting to make him more comfortable. Liam cracked a smile, blushing as he shook my hand. “I’m Y/N.”

           Liam’s eyes bulged slightly. “Y-you’re Y/N?”

           Slowly, I nodded. “Yeah. Is that a problem? Did my terrible reputation as a quiet nerd girl create some kind of awful opinion of me prior to our meeting?”

           He snorted. “No, of course not. It’s just…”

           “And what the hell is this?” I rolled my eyes, turning around to see Stiles tearing across the field with an unhappy expression on his face. “I thought I told you to wait in the Jeep, not go around flirting.”

           “And I thought I told you that I was going to look for my book.” I spat back, crossing my arms over my chest. Then, as an afterthought, I added, “I wasn’t flirting. Liam found my book and gave it back to me. I was thanking him. We introduced ourselves. That’s it.”

           Stiles rolled his eyes. That seemed to be a habit we both shared when we heard total bs. But in this case, I was telling the truth. “Right. You weren’t flirting. Because that’s believable.”

           Alright, he wanted to be that way. Sighing, I held up my hands. “No, no, you were right the first time. We were about to just drop right down on the grass and go for it, but then you showed up, saving my virtue. I was too embarrassed to admit it. Oh, Stiles! How can I ever repay you?”

           Scott raised his hand from behind Stiles. “I have an idea. Never talk about your ‘virtue’ again.” He clapped Stiles on the shoulder before moving around to come stand between Liam- who was beet red- and I. “Well, it’s nice to see my Beta and practically my baby sister getting along.”

           “Whoa, you’re the Beta?” I exclaimed.

           Liam nodded. “You know about… about all of this?” He waved to himself and Scott.

           “Um, yes. My brother has a big mouth. The day Scott got bit, guess who he came to first?” I put on a falsetto. “’Oh my God, Y/N, Scott got bit by a big doggie and now he’s turning into Jacob from Twilight! What am I supposed to do?’”

           Stiles held up a finger. “One, I don’t sound like that.” Huh. I thought I did a pretty good job. He ticked off another finger. “Two, it was a terrifying moment. I had to tell someone because Scott wasn’t listening to me- and you bought right into it, so don’t even.” Can’t argue with that. Sadly, it’s true. But I was an impressionable eighth grader who read too much. I can’t be blamed… right?

           Then he was quiet, crossing his arms. “Well?” I asked.

           He sighed. “Well what?”

           “What’s the third thing?”

           “I don’t have a third thing. What makes you think I have a third thing?”

           “Usually, when people list off stuff, there’s three things. It follows the whole repetition of the number three from-” Stiles slapped a hand over my mouth, moaning, “Oh my God, I don’t have a third thing. Stop reciting your infinite knowledge about literary devices for once, please. I’m actually begging.”

           I shoved his arm off, but didn’t continue. Instead, I focused on securing my book into my bag. I definitely do not want to lose it again.

           Scott spoke up then. “Alright, well, now that that’s settled, Liam, do you want to come over for some pizza?” Stiles had told me in the car that we were going to Scott’s after the game for pizza and video games. Well, they were going to play video games. I was going to go upstairs into Scott’s room and read while I enjoyed my pizza.  

           Liam shifted awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, sure. Just let me text my Mom.”

           “Cool.” Scott said. I took the opportunity to dig my phone out too, passing it to Liam, whose eyes went wide. I laughed, “Put your number in.”

           “Oh no. No no no no no. This is not happening. This,” Stiles flapped his hand back and forth between us. “is not, I repeat, not happening. Negative. No no no.”

           I quirked an eyebrow. “And why the hell not?” I countered, placing a hand on my hip.

           “Because-” Stiles sputtered. “Because I said so! I’m the big brother! I’m always right, and whatever I say goes. So no. This is not happening.”

           “That’s not a reason; that’s an excuse.” I pushed my hair over my shoulder. “Besides, I could count on five hands the number of times you’ve been wrong today. You’re going to have to give me a more substantial reason than that.”

           Stiles was bright red in the face. “Because he’s a werewolf! And you’re my baby sister who acts like she’s all quiet and shy but really is a sarcastic nerd who is super confident and hates people and dear God you don’t need to corrupt this little explosive ball of rage. He’s a werewolf with anger issues. You’re someone who’s main goal in life is to piss other people off with your wide range of freaky intelligence about books. It’s a recipe for disaster.”

           Liam tried to butt in with, “I’m a what?” but neither Stiles or I acknowledged him. We were dead set on each other, glaring like we were two fighters on opposing corners of the ring.

           I crossed my arms. “So?” Stiles blanched, “So? What do you mean ‘so?’”

           “So what if I’m a bitch and he’s a werewolf? That doesn’t mean anything. You’re not Dad, Stiles. And I’m pretty sure he’d be happy that I’m talking to someone other than him, you, and Scott. In fact, I’m positive that he wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

           “Jesus,” Stiles raked a hand through his hair. “I know I’m not Dad. But I don’t wait you” he pointed at me, “or you,” he jabbed a long finger at Liam “to get hurt.”

           I rolled my eyes. “We’re not going to hurt each other. We just met. Honestly, what do you think is going to happen?”

           “I think that you like him.”

           “Well duh! Why else would I get his number?”

           “So you can text him and meet up or, or, or have him sneak into your room late at night when you think me and Dad are asleep, but I’m not asleep, and I’ll hear-”

           “-Malia telling you to grab a condom? Guess what Stiles. I’m not you. I’m not going to ask my were-partner to sneak into my room in the middle of the night Edward-Cullen-style and screw me. That’s your style, not mine.”

           “Oh my God, you heard that?” His pale face flushed with color. “That was one time.”

           “The point is-”

           Scott butted in. “-that me and Liam are standing right here and are hearing everything you’re saying to one another?”

           I blinked. Oh crap. I totally forgot that they were standing there. Awkwardly, I looked away from Stiles to see Scott staring at his shoes and Liam blushing like mad while tapping his thumbs across his phone.

           “Oh, um… hey guys… sorry about that… just a little sibling spat…” I trailed off, shifting my weight from foot to foot. “This is awkward.”

           “No sh-”

           “Here you go.” Liam cut Stiles off when he handed me my phone back. I mumbled a thanks. I was about to stow it away when it vibrated. I thought I had told Dad that everything was cool…?

           From: Liam ;P

         I like you too

         From: Liam ;P

         Now I feel like a nerd

         From: Liam ;P

         Please don’t laugh.

           I couldn’t help it. I snorted, shaking my head before patting his arm. “Adorable.” I said.

           Stiles, in his infamous nosy way, leered over my shoulder and read the texts. “Oh, great.” He groaned. “He likes her too. Wonderful. This night has gone beautifully.”

           Scott chuckled, taking in Stiles’s distress and Liam’s red face. “And so it begins.” He snickered.

I’m having a mid life crisis I just want to save every animal

Help me save my newborn kittens' legs!

Posting this to hopefully get some help from a veterinarian on Tumblr, or from anyone who breeds cats or has lot of experience with kittens.

My cat had her first litter last night, and while all 3 babies are healthy looking and eating, two of them came out with twisted legs.

My local vet’s office is closed until Tuesday so I can’t take her and the babies in for a checkup (it’s a small town so no animal emergency hospital). What should I do? I know you have to act fast to save the legs from being permanently damaged, but I’ve never been in this situation before.

One of the kittens has one front leg and one hind leg that are twisted backward, and the other has a stiff, backward-twisting hind leg.

Any help you could provide would be greatly appreciated–I just want these little guys to have a fighting chance at a normal life.


Ps* Even if you can’t provide any information yourself, you reblogging this would mean the world to me. 💕