A/N: This fic is based on the song ‘Sweet Creature’ By Harry Styles
Words: Around 800
Warnings: Mentions of depression
You stood a reasonable distance from Tom, still unable to look him in the eyes after your recent argument. You two didn’t argue often, in fact barely ever, that’s what made this situation ten times worse.
You loved him, you loved him more than life itself but sometimes it got too much.
Tom was constantly away filming, doing press tours, conventions and interviews, you missed him beyond words.
Your depression was an ancient factor in your relationship, it was something you’d learnt to deal with over the years. But while Tom was away, old habits would come back.
You’d find yourself lying awake, staring at his side of the bed. Playing with your food instead of eating it, letting it go cold and sometimes soggy. Forgetting to do things like taking out the trash, or cleaning the fridge until things began to smell bad. Tom had been so busy with work that he hadn’t noticed when things began to crumble around you again, just as you’d thought everything was okay.
You had become isolated from friends and family, your only company while he was away had been Tessa and he’d been to distracted to notice.
You felt empty, that was the only way of describing it without going into too much detail about the constant sinking feeling in your chest.
You didn’t want to be selfish, If anything you were beyond happy that Tom was doing what he had a passion for. All you wanted was a few more phone calls, a text a day.
Like any girlfriend would, you wanted affection.
“What happened to you and me, Tom?” you shout “What happened to not letting fame change who you are?” You wipe away the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, not wanting Tom to see just how badly the argument was affecting you.
Tom gripped his hair harshly and let out a shaky breath “I’m trying Y/N! God i’m trying so hard to make this work!” He looked just as broken as you after hours of back and forth bickering and screaming. The bags under his eyes from hours and hours of filming only added to the look.
“Do you still want to be with me?” You asked. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid of his answer.
What if he didn’t want you anymore? Were you too much?
“I always think about you and how we don’t speak enough” Tom had said, not realising that in fact, you were always the one to call, always the one to text, always the one to make the first move when it came to communication.
You’d finally had enough of the silence, it was sharp enough to be cut with even the dullest of knives.
“I’m going to shower, then hopefully we can talk about this” You spoke, head still down and cloudy eyes.
You were unsure of how long you’d been letting the water run for, 10 minutes? Maybe 20? The warm water was soothing and if you could, you stand under it for hours on end.
It was no surprise when Tom stepped in, letting the warm water run over him. Personally Tom prefered his showers hot, which he knew you didn’t like very much because you hated when your skin would go red and blotchy after.
Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around your waist protectively and you didn’t fight it, argueing took a lot out of the both of you and right now all you wanted was his affection. Something you’d missed majorly while he was away.
There was nothing sexual about that moment, no lust, there was purely love, two hearts in one home, making up for lost time.
"It’s hard when we argue, we’re both stubborn, i know” Tom was right, the both of you were beyond stubborn and it was something you’d worried about early on in your relationship. But it was something that you’d both managed to work through.
You couldn’t say anything and Tom wasn’t expecting you too, instead he kept his arms secured around you and placed a loving kiss onto your forehead, keeping his lips there for a moment.
Leaning back into his arms, you sighed and finally felt the contentment that you’d been missing for months.
“Wherever i go, you bring me home” Tom whispered, it was just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the shower “You’ll bring me home”
i just read this absolutely bonkers article about how trump rips up all the paper that crosses his desk and then because the presidential records act requires the preservation of all his papers, the shreds all have to be painstakingly reassembled and taped back together by people who used to have a real job:
Armed with rolls of clear Scotch tape, Lartey and his colleagues
would sift through large piles of shredded paper and put them back
together, he said, “like a jigsaw puzzle.” Sometimes the papers would
just be split down the middle, but other times they would be torn into
pieces so small they looked like confetti.
It was a painstaking process that was the result of a clash between
legal requirements to preserve White House records and President Donald
Trump’s odd and enduring habit of ripping up papers when he’s done with
them — what some people described as his unofficial “filing system.”
But White House aides realized early on that they were unable to stop
Trump from ripping up paper after he was done with it and throwing it in
the trash or on the floor, according to people familiar with the
practice. Instead, they chose to clean it up for him, in order to make
sure that the president wasn’t violating the law.
coincidentally, i spent an hour yesterday tearing multiple drafts of printed-out fanfiction into tiny bits and putting the resultant confetti in the trash instead of recycling it. this is a deranged habit born of weakness and shame: i have to print out my stories or i can’t revise them properly (think of all those pseudo-scandalous hillary emails that consisted only of the words PLEASE PRINT in reply to whatever huma was sending her that day), but the thought of anyone casting eyes in real life on my detailed descriptions of english-irish boyband fellatio fills me with skin-crawling horror. imagine an intact page of fanfiction somehow floating out of the trash and presenting itself before the shocked eyes of the nice lady across the street. thus: print and shred.
anyway, this is probably the first thing i’ve ever had in common with donald trump. we both take action to cover up our crimes. in fact this is a primal instinct, described in genesis: “i was afraid because i was naked,” says adam, when robert mueller shows up in eden to ask questions. adam has put on a loincloth, in order to hide the evidence of his shame, but the loincloth itself is the evidence.
of course i only rip up what is shamefully revealing, and due to our shared humanity i can be sure that trump does the same. the result is that for me, the 12 point times new roman hot werewolf sex ends up in the trash, while for trump, literally everything ends up in the trash. there is a distinction, in my life, between my criminal output (to be shredded and trashed) and my grocery lists and junk mail (left intact in the recycling bin). for trump no such distinctions are possible. his whole life is a crime scene and he knows it. accordingly, he takes no chances.
What’s up, Miles and a good portion of the CC crew have expressed hatred towards /ns//f///w art of the campers so it’s not much of a stretch to assume they also hate ships involving the adults and kids~~~
Hi! I love your drarry fic recs and i was wondering if you could do one for wolfstar too?
You’ve come to the right person my friend, here are some of my favorites;
A Cure For Nightmares by Picascribit (36k)
1976-78: There’s a mysterious new boy at St Godric’s boarding school, and Sirius can’t stop thinking about him, but the secret Remus is keeping might break Sirius’s heart.
Very Bad Things by Freudian Fuckup (58k)
On the list of Very Bad Things Sirius Black has done, Snogging Moony In a Bathroom is really only eighth or ninth.
A Wolf’s Heart by @severus-snape-is-a-butt-trumpet (87k) Remus Lupin has a congenital heart defect, and is awaiting an available heart for transplant. Sirius Black is an immature twenty-something, living with a couple other immature twenty-somethings. Both are obsessed with the same obscure book, which becomes their coping mechanism for navigating their instant and torrid love affair. Life, they discover, is precarious at best, but from each other, they learn how to make it something that’s worth living.
Text Talk by Merlywhirls (141k) Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don’t know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.
That Old Black Magic by Fallovermelikestars (36k) AU in which Remus, being as he is a werewolf and all, is homeschooled til he is 16. Hogwarts is something of an experience, not least because there’s this boy called Sirius Black.
This is You and Me by Children_of_the_Shadows (81k)
The first time Charlus Potter met Remus Lupin, he was reminded of a past he was trying to forget. The first time Dorea Potter met Remus Lupin, she was reminded of her own limitation. The first time James Potter met Remus Lupin, he was indifferent. The first time Sirius Black met Remus Lupin, he threw a punch to his face.
Dating Remus Lupin by Children_of_the_Shadows (83k) Remus Lupin is a mystery to the whole school; the boy who’s quiet, aloof, and cold. He also happens to be queer, which is enough to gain Sirius’s interest. What Sirius never realised that dating Remus Lupin wasn’t quite as easy as it looked.
The Lines We Cross by REwrites (102k) He knew that what they were doing was wrong, but found, with every kiss, he cared less and less. AU student-teacher relations set in Sirius’s seventh year.
Children_of_the_Shadows (259k) An epic tale of Remus and Sirius’s lives, starting from the very beginning. A love that carries on through trials, tribulations, and war. AU towards the end, just before October 31st.
Casting Moonshadows by Moonsign (379k)
Lonely and outcast by his classmates, Remus wishes on a moonshadow for a friend who understands him. To his amazement his wish is answered not once, but three times, by his former enemies, the Marauders. SBRL and some JPLE as well, of course.* *WIP, not abandoned but doesn’t update regularly, doesn’t end in a cliffhanger and worth a read.
Werewolves and Magic and Dreams, Oh My! by Glitterfics (50k) The three Marauders are not friends with their other roommate. They think he’s quiet and weird and they are uncomfortable around him, especially when they discover he’s a werewolf. But then the dreams start and everything changes.
No Mum, He Really Is My Boyfriend by Showmeyourtardis (27k) If Remus has to go on one more date set up by his mother, he will maul his own face off. It was nothing against the boys, they were… Well, they were horribly dull, but it was mostly the werewolf thing. So when an escape plan, in the form of Sirius Black, presents itself, Remus is more than happy to take it.
All Hail the Outlaws by @lala-lady-elena (29k)
One of Remus Lupin’s three jobs happens to be working maintenance for their flat building. He gets to meet all sorts, most of whom he would rather have nothing to do with. Until James Potter and Sirius Black move in across the hall. Engineering students and self-proclaimed geniuses, the pair set out to make their neighbours new best friends, and everyone’s life is turned upside down, but in the best way possible.
Aesthetic: Trash Boys by Emaly and Merlywhirls (89k) A story that starts with dick pics but is really about friendship, falling in love, and summer hols fun.* *WIP, not abandoned.
Fractured Skies by @lala-lady-elena (18k) Two worlds collide. Deaf artist Sirius Black works at his best mate’s cafe. Remus Lupin is an epileptic student from France who is just looking to get by unnoticed. But the artist sees something he wants in the shy boy, and makes it his mission to see what makes Remus tick.
Paper Swans by @lala-lady-elena (27k) The Sequel to Fractured Skies-Remus and Sirius are happy together. But they never envisioned a life where they’d lose their two best friends and have to fight for their godson. And yet things somehow work out, just not in the way they expected. With Harry off to Hogwarts Academy for his first year, Remus and Sirius deal with an empty nest and more importantly, feeling like their family is not yet complete.
First the fact that Corey knew the entire time is such good story telling. Its no joke that he doesn’t like enzo, he even said “I cant wait to shake the hand of Enzos attacker” and the next week he shakes Cass’ hand. So that must have had Corey thinking and he did some digging and when he heard that Kurt was gonna get to the bottom of this he probably thought “i should expose him now” and he did. for Enzo’s sake whether he likes him or not.
Then we have Cass “YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT I DID” that says it for itself. Cass just couldn’t take it anymore. He knew teaming with Ezno wasn’t getting him anywhere. They didnt win the titles in NXT, and they haven’t won the titles on Raw when they had a good amount of opportunities. Cass simply said “Im done” and made it more powerful. He knew Ezno was holding him down, he knew all that came out of Enzos mouth was trash, but he backed him up, because thats what brothers do. Cass is like a big brother to enzo. And what happens Between Big brother and his Little brother, they fight. The big brother wants to become the best. And Cass is doing that by getting rid of the dead weight.
And then there is Enzo, just a crying mess that his friend, someone who he called Family betrayed him. Enzo trusted this man with every. fiber. in. his. body. And what did Cass do to him? Cass just threw enzo (more or less kicked) to the curb. We all can see that he was crying and we all felt the real raw emotion.
Honestly this will hurt a lot, but it will be such good story telling between Enzo and Cass
Summary: Richie Tozier and his band find themselves in a once and a life time situation but can Richie step out of his comfort zone to skyrocket the bands chances for success? Eddie Kaspbrak works at the famous Bourbon Room Club and is responsible for the nights entertainment, when a group of misfits audition for him and his boss he finds himself questioning everything he had thought he knew about himself, love and rock and roll.
Richie scrunched his nose, digging through his jeans pocket.
He pulled out his leather wallet and looked through it meaninglessly, already
knowing the exact amount by heart. He looked up to his friend and frowned,
shrugging his shoulders and admitting, “Twenty-four dollars and sixty cents.”
Stan groaned, tossing his money onto the coffee table, the
change clattering against the cheap wood. He looked up to the other two band
members who shook their heads. “Fuck, combined we only have a little over a
hundred bucks.” He muttered, leaning back into the couch and rubbing his forehead
“Well that’s not so bad.” Richie chimed in, feeling the
weight of the room press on his shoulders. “We can totally make that work till
we get paid Friday.”
“Yeah, if rent wasn’t due tomorrow.” Beverly muttered,
taking a seat beside Stan. “The hotel won’t save the room for us if we keep
paying late. They already said if it happens again that they were going to kick
Richie huffed, leaning back onto the carpeted floor. He
looked to the ceiling, inspecting the horrendous stain that was above him. Their
small place wasn’t the best, hell it was practically a pigsty, but it was as
cheap as they came and the Losers knew that if they didn’t pay up the owners
would have the next crackhead who had the cash set up in here by tomorrow. He
hummed softly, thinking to himself about all of the crack addicts he had seen
over the past few months.
“Well w-what are we g-gonna d-do?” Bill asked, sitting on
the red milk carrier that they had dubbed a second chair. “W-we can’t s-stay on
“Beverly can whore herself out.” Richie joked, interlocking
his fingers behind his head. “She can go all pretty woman on this town.”
“Or you can whore yourself out.” Beverly replied, earning a
chuckle from her trashmouth friend. “You do have a pretty face since you
started using contacts.”
Richie fake gasped, bolting into a sitting position. He
covered his heart with his hand and faked an utterly hurt look across his face,
“I thought you loved my glasses!” He gushed, “And I think I’d intimate all the
men, I’m too gorgeous for prostitution.”
“Right keep telling yourself that.” Stan murmured, sighing
heavily. “I seriously think we are going to have to ask Eddie for an advance on
There was an audible groan from the rest of the band, including
Richie, whose form of protest involved hissing and booing. “Look it’s the only
option.” Stan contained, ignoring his friends protests. “If you guys don’t want
to live on the streets we are going to have to figure something out that doesn’t
involve one of us getting a form of STD’s.”
“How about stripping?” Richie offered, “No sex involved in
“Beep beep Richie.” Beverly muttered, tossing a pillow at
her friend’s head, to which Richie caught easily. “I think Stan’s right.” She
added, a serious look crossing her face. “No matter how much we hate it, we are
going to have to ask for and advance.”
“Well I’m not going to do it.” Richie hissed, feeling his
face fluster with a hidden emotion. “That kid already hates me.”
“We w-will do i-it to-together.” Bill replied sternly. “We
will just t-talk to him a-after rehearsal. H-he’s been i-in our sh-shoes, he
has t-to understand.”
“I said no, I can’t give you an advance on your pay.” Eddie replied, feeling all four of the band member’s eyes
on him. He could see Mike and Ben standing aside, pretending not to listen to
the conversation but he ignored his employees and tried to pretend he didn’t
care about the Losers problems like he was supposed to do.
“You can’t be serious.” Richie complained, obviously angered
by his response. “Why not?”
Eddie sighed, “It’s against the rules.” He answered
honestly, feeling his stomach churn at the boy’s gaze.
“You are literally the manager, you make all of the rules.” Richie
replied harshly, his face becoming flustered as his voice bit into Eddie’s
“This isn’t my rule.” The small boy explained, taking a
moment to compose himself before continuing. “This is Dupree’s, the last time
he gave an advance to a band, the lead singer overdosed on heroin.”
The Losers flinched, and Eddie took pride in the fact that
they took his explanation seriously. He shrugged and muttered a half-ass apology,
desperate for the subject to be dropped. As he took a few steps away from the
group, Beverly asked the question that embedded itself under Eddie’s skin. “What
are we going to do now?”
“There isn’t anything-“
“You’ve been through this, you’ve lived on the streets. How
can you just not care?” Eddie felt his blood run cold at Richie’s tough, true
words. He looked at the group, who immediately glared at their lead singer,
throwing daggers at his face. Some kind of realization must have hit the
trashmouth because a moment later he hissed, cringing at the secret he had just
exposed. “Uh, shit.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“Who told you that?” Eddie demanded, watching the Losers
cower. He noticed his other employees, their bodies becoming half hidden behind
the bar. “Who told you?” The boy repeated, feeling embarrassment claw at his
“Uhhh-“Richie stuttered, his gaze darting to his friends,
who merely winced. “I guessed?”
“I told them Eddie.” Mike suddenly replied, taking insignificant
strides towards the group, Ben cowered as he followed behind him. “They asked
and I just-“
“That information was private, Mike.” Eddie scorned, feeling
betrayed by one of the only friends he had. He shook his head, fire building
behind his eyes, “It’s not your place to-“
“I’m sorry Eddie.” Mike admitted, “I am, I know it’s a
sensitive subject with you but Richie is right.”
“Excuse me?” Eddie bit.
“They are homeless now. They are asking for your help, didn’t
you wish you had someone to turn to when you were where they are?” Mike asked, causing
the scolding anger in Eddie to simmer. “Richie is right, you do know what that’s
like and you can’t knowingly cast someone aside and let them suffer like you
“Well what do you want me to do?” Eddie muttered, feeling
attacked in his own place of work. He could feel his emotions swirl in his stomach
making him feel nauseas. “I can’t over rule Dupree, you of all people know
“You have plenty room in your flat.” Mike replied, motioning
to the ceiling. “They could stay up there with you.”
“That’s out of the question.” Eddie nipped, feeling a filth burrow
into his pores. “If you’re such good friends with them then let them stay with
Mike scoffed, “There already isn’t enough room for the two
of us. It’s just a studio apartment Eddie.”
Eddie groaned, feeling the situation come to a painful solution.
He looked at the band, their eyes full of hope and nervousness that for a
moment he saw his sixteen year old self, covered in dirt and grim, doing
whatever it took to survive. He cringed, knowing that these kids were going to
ruin his stuff with their germs. “I hate all of you.” He hissed, turning heel
and walking towards the stairs leading to his flat.
The Losers stood in confusion, looking over to Mike who
smiled, explaining, “That’s Eddie’s way of saying okay.”
The flat itself was twice the size of their hotel room. Everything
was pristine and neat, not even a cushion out of place. Stan grew a large
smile, admiring the place. Richie knew he would get along with Eddie just fine,
being a neat freak himself but he worried about the rest of the Losers who
still argued about who would take out the trash.
Eddie looked nervous, lingering behind them as they each
wandered around the large space aimlessly. Richie looked at the pictures that
he had on his bookcase, recognizing the smiling faces of the barkeep and stage
hand instantly. He then gasped, grabbing hold of the frame at the far end, “You’ve
met Red Hot Chili Peppers?” He asked enthusiastically. Eddie shrugged as Richie
noticed the next pictures, “And AC/DC? And U2? Oh my god, who are you?”
The group chuckled and Eddie ignored the boy’s admiration. “I
have an extra bedroom and a pull out couch so you’ll have to decide who sleeps with
who.” The small boy muttered, finally making it past his own threshold.
“Well Stan and Bill
are already “sleeping” together so I guess that just leaves me and Bev.” Richie
blurted causing the two boys to turn red. Eddie smirked, trying not to comment
on the singer’s blunt outing of his friends. “How about it Bevy? Sleep with me
on the couch, I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Beverly scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Like you could bag a
prize like me.” She joked, smirking at her friend. Eddie felt a twinge of
jealously, frowning as he watched the flawless exchange between the two. He felt
Richie’s chuckle, his face lighting up at his friend’s humorous response. There
was a twist in Eddie’s chest and he suddenly wished he had his old inhaler.
Bill spoke softly, nearing the small boy. “T-thank you f-for
this Eddie. R-really.”
Eddie suddenly felt embarrassed, wishing he was anywhere
else. “It’s fine.” He murmured, looking at his feet. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a huge deal.” Beverly replied, “You’re taking us into
your home, putting a roof over our heads.”
“Yeah without you, we would be prostituting Richie out by
now.” Stan joked, the humor becoming lost as soon as the statement fell into
the air making Eddie cringe.
“Well Mike’s right.” Eddie managed, feeling his face become
flush. “I do know what’s it is like to be homeless. I came to New York with
nothing and I-“He paused, suddenly aware he was sharing apart of himself with
people he had only just met. He shook his head, clearing the emotions that were
clouding his thoughts. There was a moment before he cleared his throat, finally
finding his voice again, “You’re welcome to stay here till Friday, just please
pick up after yourself.”
“No promises.” Richie jeered, only receiving a stern look
from both Stan and Eddie.
Summary: You knew love, and you knew Luke, Michael, Ashton and Calum.
A/N: This is my favorite piece so far! It has been on a long road but now it’s here and I’m actually really proud of it. It’s a bit different, but I hope you’ll give a chance! Also, I really like the Michael part, but it contains mentions of alcohol, drugs etc. so if you’re not comfortable with reading about that, you can just scroll past his part x
You knew love, although your version was a bit
different than your friends’. They would fall in love over and over again and
their feelings never lasted long. They got drunk on love and swelled in
self-pity, when the hangover hit them, while you saw love as something
precious, something rare and something that made life worth living. You had
experienced love four times, with four very different boys; their only thing in
common was a strangely passionate fondness of music. And the love you shared
with each of them had taught you about yourself, truth, sadness, anger, hate,
love and life itself.
Your first lovetaught you that soft, blushing cheeks, nervous
whispers and sweaty palms were way better than bad boy images, expensive cars
and heartbreak. Luke taught you how to fall in love without getting broken, he
taught you how to trust and how to not just be lovers, but also best friends.
I’m laughing at how I got the final blow on Shido’s final form he tried to punch Yusuke with Tyrant’s Fist but his High Counter ability activated so it just bounced it back at him and took out the last of his HP.
You didn’t realize how late it was until Ramonda came in to say goodnight to you both. You checked the watch on your wrist and saw that it was a quarter past midnight.
Where had the time gone?
“T’Challa, I am so sorry, but it’s getting late. I’d love to stay, but I don’t want to intrude.” You said, almost sadly. Looking over at him he had a small smile on his face.
“Of course, Y/N. Let me walk you to your car.” You nodded, and you were about to get up, but he stopped you. “Allow me.” He pulled your chair back and helped you stand up.
It just got ten times hotter in here.
“I had a very nice time you tonight, T’Challa.” You looked up at the beautiful man walking beside you.
I mean wow.
“As did I, Y/N. You’re very nice company.” He smiled down at you and chuckled at your dazed expression.
Come on Y/N, hold it together.
“I hope we can do this again sometime.” He spoke again as he opened your car door for you.
“Me too. Maybe I can cook for you next time.” You wink, and he smiles.
“I’ll be counting down the days.”
He waved you goodbye before retreating back in the house.
Shuri was waiting in the kitchen, a piece of fruit in her mouth. “So…” Shuri wiggles her eyebrows causing T’Challa to furrow his in confusion.
“What are you doing?”
“You like her!” Shuri exclaims, scaring her older brother and causing him to choke on his wine.
“You like Y/N! Don’t lie! Mother can see it, too!” Shuri’s smile widens as he tries to dodge her question.
“Oh my gosh, you have to let me set you up!”
“Shuri no! Last time you did that, well.. You know.”
“How was I supposed to know she’d end up liking me instead of you?” She says, rolling her eyes and taking another bite of her apple.
“Yeah yeah, I’m going to bed, Shuri. Goodnight.” He kissed her forehead before retreating to his room.
Dreams of Y/N filling his brain.
You had a day off today because Shuri had important meetings all day, so you decided to go familiarize yourself with as much as Wakanda as you could. You pineappled your hair to the best of your ability, put on some comfy yet cute clothes and then left.
The malls there were absolutely beautiful, and America would cower at seeing this. You bought a few more dashiki skirts, and shirts, as well as some makeup, natural hair products, and comfy lounging clothes.
You were driving through a forest on the way home, deciding to take the scenic route. The forest was filled with lush greens and fruit, and you just wanted to pick all of them. You weren’t sure what they were and what they did to you, so you left them alone.
Just as you were about to enter your block, a box in the road surprised you.
Thank God I stopped, you thought.
You weren’t going to investigate what was in the box because it most likely could’ve just been trash.
That was until the box moved.
Yes, it moved.
You stepped out of the car, after you put on your hazards, and approached the box timidly. The box then let out a small “meow” and shocked you.
Inside the box was a small, black cat, staring up you with its huge eyes. “Well, hello!” You said excitedly, crouching down to meet the tiny thing.
She was small, possibly malnourished, and definitely hurt. “We gotta get you to an animal hospital or something.”
You slowly reached for the box, knowing better than to take the cat by itself.
The ride to the vet was quiet, beside you talking to the cat thinking they’ll answer back. You were nervous because what if they needed surgery..
Who has the money for that?!
The doctors took a while to help you out, but after about half an hour, they took you in the back and examined the baby.
“Well, she has a broken leg. Severely malnourished, we may have to keep her here until she gets better, is that okay with you?” The male doctor spoke to you, his accent thick.
“Oh, she’s not my cat. I found her like this.” He nodded before scribbling some things down.
“She’ll probably need a good home after this. Think you can handle it?”
And you zoned out.
Could I handle a cat?
It’s like having a child!
I’m sure it’ll be fine.
But what happens when I’m at work?
“I’d really like some time to think about all this.” You finally told the doctor, and he nodded, understanding completely.