not too long after scott and stiles move to LA and scott opens up the animal shelter next to deaton’s clinic, he realizes he doesn’t have as much space as he previously thought. he’s getting an overflow of animals with no place to put them, including a litter of five orphaned kittens.
so, he takes them home. just for a few days until they have more crates and kennels in the shelter. he finds stiles practically drowning in his work, table a mess, covered in photographic evidence and scribbled notes and folders full of documents.
when scott swings the door open, holding an open box lined with blankets with five restless kittens, stiles greets him with a quiet “hi, baby,” but doesn’t look up from his work until, instead of scott replying, he gets three meows in return. scott takes about two minutes to ramble and stumble over how they’re all so young, and they didn’t have any extra room at the shelter or clinic, and he wasn’t sure what else to do, while stiles reaches inside of the box and picks up a very small, round little orange kitten. he only stops when he realizes stiles isn’t mad, or even bothered, but in fact awed by how small the damn thing is.
the next day, when scott rushes home from work, he can hear stiles muttering to somebody through the door long before he even opens it. he finds stiles in one of his hoodies, curled up on the couch, coffee table in a similar disarray as the dining table. his head is in his hand, leaning against the arm of the couch. he’s got one kitten curled up in his hood, two of them sleeping in his lap, one of them on the cushion next to him, and the final one is sitting on the coffee table.
the kittens legs are splayed, sat comfortably on top of a small pile of documents, little head lifted, facing stiles with full attention while he mutters theories to it about his current case. it mewls back at him every time he talks to it, and he returns with, “no, you’re right,” or, “yeah, i think so.”
and for the next two days, scott is out of his (very important (to stiles)) job of listening to stiles ramble, replaced by five poorly behaved and chaotic, but apparently good listening kittens.
(stiles looks emotional the day scott has the space to bring them back to the shelter, and nearly adopts more cats than he knows what to do with.)
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if im being honest i actually fucking love the 2009 astro boy movie (why were those robots just straight-up actual communists? like. they had a picture of lenin hung up in their base. it was awesome) BUT for the life of me i CANNOT picture 2009 astro as the same guy as atom. they are NOT the same kid. theyre like cousins or something. 50s-80s atom and 03 atom are all... the same guy in different contexts, you know? and in the end they do feel like NOT QUITE the same person, like maybe one person at vastly different times in their life, but i can still comprehend them as the same person. pluto atom is a bit more of a stretch, maybe its the same character being played by a different actor (or the other way around?), or theyre twin brothers... but 2009 astro is a WHOLE different dude. and theyre not even close family theyre like... two people who have worked the same job years apart. or, like i said, cousins who met a few times. they have an in-law connection. atom is, like, astro's aunt's husband's son who is 6 years older than him
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Hi! I have a question I could use some help with from any US-American friends...
Are baseball players at the same level of fame with the general population as, say, American football & basketball players are? Like, do they get talked about on entertainment news, followed by paparazzi, etc.?
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Hey guys this is my first post, I would love if you follow me if you love dylan o'Brien, thank you!
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got sent another tweet that reminds me of the twt au 😭😭😭
I CANT BREATHEEEE NO CAUSE WHEN I SAW THIS ASK I ALSO SAW THIS TWEET AND
U CANNAWT TELL ME THESE TWO TWEETS ARENT STILES I CANTTFNRKSPSJWOSKSNSKSNDIENS
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I HATE THEO RAEKEN I HATE HIM SO MUCH FUCK ALL OF YOU FOR SHIPING HIM WITH MY SON LIAM I HATE HIM I DONT CARE IF HE GETS A REDEMPION ARC THERES NO COMING BACK FROM HURTING MY STILES
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