#but WHAT IF I'm not good enough for that kitten as an owner

[buttercupshands]

I may or may are about to have a cat but the responsibility of being a cat owner and having a choice not to be if I'm too scared... is even worse honestly

[reiderwriter]

✍️ Dear Diary ✍️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Requested: Hi thereee! I was thinking about a request since I saw they’re open again… I was thinking maybe Con-non con breeding/cream pie?🤭 maybe somnophilia too. S get home en R is sleeping and he just take what he wants but it’s obviously something mutual.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Dubcon/ CNC, somnophilia, breeding, pet play (kitten/owner), daddy kink, unprotected sex, almost one bed trope, oral (m recieving), Perv!Spencer, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader and just incredibly horny Reader and Spencer.

Summary: Spencer comes across your dream journal and finds out that you're not plagued with nightmares but with wet dreams. And they're all about him.

A/N: Thank you to @reidmotif, who basically told me the entire concept of this fic was forcing Spencer to read smut headcannons about himself and watching the reactions. I think this is the quickest I've ever written something from start to finish 💀

Masterlist || Bingo Board

Spencer didn't know what possessed him to read through your diary, but he couldn't stop when he started. At a single glance, he could tell it wasn't the book that he was looking for, the one you'd sent him to find in your bedroom, the one you'd recommended he read. 

That one was beside it on the side table, but there was something about the black moleskin, laid perfectly flat on the desk, that had his fingers itching as he moved it forward. 

You were otherwise occupied with setting out the plates of takeaway you'd ordered for the six people currently sat in your living room, so knowing his company wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, he sat himself down and began reading. 

Within ten pages, he completely regretted it. 

He'd sussed out by the title page that this wasn't just a normal journal but a dream journal. It was heavily recommended in a lot of the mandated therapy sessions you guys did. Hell, even Hotch had suggested it to him a few times, so he shouldn't be surprised you kept one. 

He was just surprised at the content of your dreams.

He knew his own were dark and painful, and he was curious, thinking that knowing your dreams could help him assist you better through whatever was plaguing you recently. 

In ten pages, he'd managed to suss out that it was him that was plaguing you. 

“May 8th - Woke up hot again. Dreamt of Spencer waking me up with his tongue. Need to get this out of my system.” 

“May 10th - On my back tied to the bed. Spencer again. I'm going to hell.” 

“May 22nd - Kitten ears. And Spencer's cum splashing on my face as a wake up call. I'm a freak!” 

Each entry was similar, and he read on page after page, until he felt his cock stiffening and he had to put the book down and remind himself that there was company just a few doors away. Company that included his friends and a woman who'd been dreaming of fucking him every night for… three months now. 

He took a deep breath. He took a lot of deep breaths, forcing himself to think of the most unappealing things ever as he calmed himself down. 

A voice down the hall called his name, and he dropped the journal like a scalding pot and picked up the other book, opening it to a random page and trying to look convincingly entranced. 

“Spencer, what-?” You asked, seeing him sat on your bed reading the book. He thanked the heavens that the book was a hardback and just big enough to hide the remaining stiffness in his pants while he tried to will it to deflate. 

“Oh, good book, right? I should've known you'd start reading it straight away. Just take it home, Spencer.”

“No, no, it's okay, I don't need-” 

“No, it's fine. You can give it back at the Stanford Review Psychology Seminar next weekend. We're rooming still, right?” 

He took in what felt like a gulp of air, forcing the oxygen down into his lungs as his tongue laid as useless in his mouth as his cock felt in his pants.

“Right.” He managed to get out as you told him to haul his ass back to the living area. 

He took up your journal again, though, and for the next few minutes, committed your diary to memory and left the room. 

“Spencer, come on, kid, what book is as interesting as Wrestlemania?” Morgan said, clapping him on the back as he ripped through a slice of pizza. 

One where the author said she'd woken up mid-orgasm just imagining he'd tied her down. And him specifically.

“Leave the kid alone, you know he's prone to his little fantasies,” Rossi chimed in as well, passing Spencer a beer quickly and cracking one open for himself.

Not the most prone person in the room to fantasies, of course, but possibly the second most prone. 

“Shut up and watch the game, you're making him squirm,” you said from your perch behind his seat on the couch, giving him a quick pat on the shoulders, your fingers lingering just too long. 

And with the word squirm went his whole concentration as he started imagining your small mews and purrs of pleasure, your sleepy face dazed as his fingers roughly curled into your cunt. You'd squirm for him, and you'd do a whole lot more than that. 

The rest of the night tortured him the same way, though thankfully he'd managed to find a pillow to cover up his small - though growing ever harder - issue. At last, he was the last one left in your apartment, the others letting themselves out after you'd crashed on your own sofa just inches from him. 

To be fair, they'd pulled off the herculean task of cleaning up after themselves without waking you, despite your notoriety for sleeping light. 

He'd waved off the others and said he'd get you back into bed, protests quickly falling on deaf ears. Yes, Morgan may have been the better choice to carry your dead-tired weight, but he was also five beers in and just as likely to slam you into the bed a la whatever wrestlers Spencer had been ignoring on the screen all night. 

He'd gotten himself mostly under control anyway, so he'd been able to rush them out of the door, drunk or senile, and managed to turn himself back to you. 

You were curled up in a little ball, like a cat who'd found the perfect cardboard box to sit in. You filled the space and looked comfortable, but he knew you'd be sore in the morning. Either that, or your words had driven him to the brink of insanity and he just wanted his hands on you for once.

He didn't bother trying to fully lift you, knowing you'd definitely freak out and wake up if he tried. 

Instead, he started talking to you in your sleep. 

“Y/N… let's go to bed,” he whispered, pulling your arms limply around his neck as he tugged you upwards with two hands firmly on your hips until you were standing. 

You let out a small whimper of protest, head falling forward to nuzzle into his chest as he started slowly walking you back to your bed. It was a technique he'd used on you more than once, getting you to comply when half asleep on multiple occasions to assist you when drunk or exhausted or both. 

With the revelations of your diary, he thought about talking you into even more in your sleepy state but resisted. 

“Spencer…” you mumbled, gripping him loosely and pressing kisses against his shirt and chest, lazily. 

He had to remind himself you were still asleep, even if you were moving and talking. Asleep, even if you had wanted him to wake you up with a cock in your cunt. Asleep, and not his girlfriend, or lover, or anything more than coworker, as his cock hardened and the backs of your knees finally hit the side of your bed. 

You half collapsed onto it, and we're half lowered gently by Spencer, though in all his uncoordination, he couldn't stop himself from falling directly on top of you. 

“Yes, Spencer…” you sighed, hands brushing up and down his chest above you as he froze solid. 

He was screwed. He'd read every word of that diary. He could imagine exactly what it was you were dreaming of at that moment, and he needed to extricate himself before he did something he'd hate himself for. 

His hand snaked up your waist, just brushing your nipple as he finally dropped it to the bed and pushed himself up. He couldn't touch you anymore without consequences, and while those consequences sounded truly…delightful, he resisted. 

Tucking you into bed, drowning out the sounds of your faint purrs and moans, he rubbed his cock through his pants to ease some of the ache. He denied himself more, grabbing your recommended book from the side table, leaving the infernal journal and closing the door on quite possibly one of the most arousing experiences of his life. 

He was screwed. 

A week passed and left him in his state of screwedness. You may have dreamed of him taking you like that, almost against your will, but he dreamed of you begging him to do so. 

He awoke stiff every day and refused to touch himself, to acknowledge the disgusting pleasure he was getting from his imagination. 

A week full of cold showers and blue balls, and what did it end with except being back in close quarters with your horny ass. 

Screwed supreme. 

You noticed he was acting off very quickly, and you'd commented on it the morning of conference day one, knocking him back slightly with each step towards him you took. 

“Spencer, are you sick?” You said, stepping closer, raising a hand as if to test his temperature. 

“No, no, I just... germaphobic, remember?" he smiled, gently brushing your hand away. He also took another step away from you to stop him from balling his hands into your sides and pushing you down to the floor to have his way with you. 

“That hasn't bothered you before. You literally said last week that we're in the same places so often that we've been exposed to the same bacteria and have likely formed an immuno-connection or whatever-”

“There's just-” he said, now taking another step further away from you, hands up in a surrendering pose to halt your approach. “A lot of people at this conference. It's making me a bit uncomfortable.” 

You seemed to understand that, backing off. And thankfully, just in time, because a second later and his hands would've been tangled in your hair, forcing you to your knees so he could show you just how compromised he could get you. 

You'd dreamt about something similar on March 25th. And April 3rd. 

It wasn't just his own lust for you fogging his mind - he'd dealt with that before, his hand a friendly nighttime companion - but compounded with your own, it was unbearable. 

He looked at you and all he saw was “March 2nd - Begged Spencer to cum inside me, and fill his little kitten as much as he could. Could I convince him to fo that for real?” 

For fucking real.

He felt infinitely more respect for your skills at your job now, knowing that he couldn't go a week without genuinely flinching away from your touch feeling this goddamn pent up, and you'd lasted three months and counting without so much as batting an eye. 

After wandering through the conference all day, listening to the keynote speakers and giving a speech of his own, he'd grown exhausted. He was tired of avoiding you, but it had to be done. The thing he feared the most was breaking and becoming one of the monsters he'd dedicated his life to catching. The thing he feared most was you. 

You'd hugged him when he completed his speech, lingering still after pulling away, so he was still aware of every inch and curve of you. 

“I'm so proud of you,” you said with a smile, straightening his tie. You wouldn't be proud of him if you knew what he wanted to do with that tie. He imagined, even in a crowd of people, pulling you back by your hair - March 31st - and gagging you with the scrap of material - April 17th.

After almost doing just that, he quickly excused himself, and 12 miscalls and 27 text messages later, you'd finally given him what he wanted - “I'm going to sleep now. We need to talk in the morning.” 

He finally crept back to the room you were sharing from a restaurant below. He'd thought about numbing his senses with alcohol but decided against it, not willing to take the risk that he'd numb his inhibitions at the same time. 

It wouldn't be the first time alcohol had made him get handsy with you, scowling as he remembered his hands trailing all over you during karaoke at the Delfino, his hands gripping tighter as the night stretched out longer. You'd both been trying to sing Billy Joel, and then he'd been trying to keep hold of you no matter how much you'd giggled and fidgeted. 

Looking back now, he was sure it was only the presence of every single one of your coworkers and half the FBI that stopped him from covering you in kisses, from pushing his hand up your shirt and playing with you. 

Alone in your hotel room, there was nowhere else. 

Sure enough, though, there was another bed, which he happily threw himself on when he entered, knowing he'd claimed the one closest to the door. 

He sat for a minute, then two, then three, and just knowing you were close had his brain begging to repeat everything it had learnt in your diary. 

“March 1st - I think I had a sex dream about Spencer. I think I really enjoyed it. I think I should avoid him today” 

“March 18th - Used my vibratory before bed and still woke up needy. What would Spencer's cock feel like buried inside of me?”

“April 14th - He took me over a desk in the bullpen while continuing his conversation with Hotch. I almost cried, waking up and finding out it wasn't real.” 

“June 4th - Spencer is coming over tonight, and I spent the whole day masturbating to memories of my own dreams about him…. I'm definitely going to hell.” 

It was as he repeated each of these entries in his head like a mantra that the bed shifted and he felt something next to him. 

Whatever bed he'd thrown himself into, you had decided to occupy as well. He felt your ass first, wiggling up against his crotch as you snuggled into whatever warmth he was offering beside you. 

The content sigh that left your lips was the final straw as Spencer's nerves frayed and his already throbbing cock begged for relief. 

His hands held your hips still as he unthinkingly began to rut into you, rubbing his cock against your ass in any way that would find release. 

He tried to stop himself, but you were mid-dream now, and you were making those noises again. 

Tiny little pants, mewls of pleasure, his name. Jesus Christ, his name. 

He pushed down his boxers as you threw your head back, landing at the crook of his neck, your breath fanning over his skin as you turned over. 

Instead of rutting against your ass, he could now hitch your legs across his thighs and at least get close enough to where he wanted to be, buried in your wet, aching pussy. 

He didn't let himself. Biting his lip, he moved his hands from your hips to his cock, and began a slow, painful attempt at jacking off. 

It should've been easy with you in front of him. He should've already exploded on his hand, especially after more than a week of nothing.

But you were in arms reach and it was as if his entire body was on strike until he sank into you. 

In the end, it was your movements that led him to crack, just like it had been your words in the first place that had moved him to such desperation. 

Shifting uncomfortably again in your sleep, you'd managed to push your leg over his lap and roll on top of him, all while unconscious. 

And then you started moving. Like really fucking moving, like dry humping. Spencer's brain disappeared as he tugged at your clothing to figure out how to remove as much as needed removing. 

Luckily, all he had to do was shift your panties to the side and make sure he didn't get tangled in the rest of your night dress, and, thoughtlessly, he was plunging into your depths. 

He thought it would be that first thrust that would wake him, and though he had his suspicions, he was right. You didn't move. If anything you were quieter now with his cock filling you than you had been dry humping it not a minute earlier. 

You were awake, he knew. You were awake, and you were pretending to sleep. His cock throbbed inside you at the thought and he knew he needed more. 

“March 19th, I dreamed that Spencer woke me up with some cream for his kitten. I called him Daddy. God, I wish it were real,” he whispered in your ear as you continued your facade, quoting your diary back at you as he flipped you over. 

He was gentle still, allowing you to maintain the illusion of sleep even as your heart beat out of your chest and a moan threatened to burst out of your mouth. 

Softly, his hips retreated from over yours, his thick cock withdrawing from your heat before slamming back in. 

“April 12th - Daddy let his good little kitten drink up her spilt milk from the floor. I licked his cum up with my tongue as he fucked me from behind. I'm perverse.” 

Your breathing was way harder to control now, as his hips swayed into yours repeatedly, his real cock stretching further than you'd ever imagined his dream one reaching. You'd never been a good visualiser. 

“Wake up, Y/N,” he said, kissing your neck and replacing his lips with a firm hand at your windpipe. 

“Wake up and talk to me. We're supposed to be talking about earlier, right? You're supposed to be mad at me, but instead, you're close to cumming on my big fat cock.”

You screwed your eyes up tighter as he lifted his head and let his tongue silence the first moan that you let.slip through. He'd won. 

His to guess clashed with yours as you tried to control his pace from under him, tugging your hips up, begging for more of his dick to enter you. 

Sure, you were awake, but to you, this was just another dream, and he wasn't going to let you escape him this time. 

“That's it, that's.my little girl, milk my cock,” he murmured, even as he grabbed your hips again and started setting the pace once again. It was his fingers stabbing into the gate of your hips and stomach that had you finally fully waking up and realizing that this was real, that Spencer had fucked you awake. 

“S-Spencer,” you moaned, chest jumping with each jack hammer, his head buried between them, picking and sucking like some ravenous beast devouring prey. 

“Daddy,” he corrected, sucking one nipple that had popped out of the top of your night dress into his mouth and biting down. 

You arched into the touch, and he didn't let you move away, hands instantly gripping you tighter as you squirmed and fought in his grip. He held tighter still as his dick entered you, again and again. 

Like you were falling asleep again, your brain cleared until there was only him, hic cock, his tongue on your chest, his hands on your ass keeping you in place.

“May 16th - Last night, Spencer was my owner, and he raped me in the middle of the night. He pushed his fat cock into me and I howled in pleasure, stating exactly where he put me until he released his load into me.”

The words were your own, but you couldn't feel any shame heading them, knowing the reenactment felt just as good as you'd hoped it would subconsciously. 

“Y/N, focus on me. Focus on milking my cock like s good little kitten, come on Y/N,” he said, thrusting into you with no qualms now. 

He'd given in, and he'd given in quickly, but if this was the reward, then he was never holding back again. 

“Spencer-” you shuddered out as your orgasm broke through you, his panting writhing form finally pushing you back down into the bed as he continued tutting into you until he, too, could no longer hold back. 

With a painful groan, he came and pulled out of you in an instant, letting his cum leak out of you as he watched. 

You barely had time to catch your breath before he pulled you up, tugging at your hair until you were both on your knees, then pushing you down until your face was level with his softening cock. 

“Clean up your spilt milk, kitten,” he panted, and you complied happily, licking up every drop that had splashed against his cock and stomach and thighs. 

His moans were musical, whimpers and pouts and sinful curses as he held up your hair and tried not to fuck your mouth, enjoying the sensations of your exploring g tongue too much for that. 

When he'd thought you'd done enough, he tugged you up again, wrapping his hands around your body firmly and pulling you in for one more kiss. 

“Next time,” he said, pulling away and panting to catch his breath. “Next time- you have- a dream- just- tell me.” 

You nodded and tried to chase his lips, but he pulled you back down to the bed before you made it  eliciting a small whimper of frustration. 

“You're sleeping in my bed,” he observed, stroking your head as he held you close. 

“You were avoiding me.” 

“I was avoiding you because I've been walking around with a boner for a week, and I didn't want to jump you in a conference room filled with 300 people.”

“You read my diary,” you said, pouting. 

“You let me read your diary. It was wide open on the desk, and you sent me into that room alone, knowing my eyes move quicker than my conscience does.” 

You hummed, smiling in reply but didn't answer the accusations. 

“I wonder what my wake up call in the morning will be like,” you smiled, shutting your eyes and letting yourself fall asleep, his chest pillowing your head and his arms closed tight around your waist. 

[hotyanderedaddies]

Yandere Cat Café Owner Wants You

[Yandere! Cat Dad Boyfriend x GN! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Kitty Café opened up down the block from your apartment, and ever since you'd seen the fliers promising delicious treats with tons of cats to play with, you'd made it your life's mission to visit it.

Unfortunately, your boyfriend was crazy allergic to cats, so you had to go solo. It bummed you out, sure; but the idea of getting to spend some time with tons of cats more than made up for it. You knew that you couldn't adopt one, but maybe you could do a little donation instead.

"Welcome!" a deep, warm voice sounded out as soon as you entered the small café.

Behind the desk was a large behemoth of a man. Even from across the room, you could tell that he towered over you. His body was thick and solid with muscle, and the tight polo he wore was painted across his large chest.

Around him, tiny kittens mewed and pawed at him, asking for pets.

The entire café was littered with cats (duh), but most of them seemed to be sticking close to the man.

"H-hi," you stuttered back, feeling nervous under the intense gaze of the larger man. His eyes widened when you spoke, and you could clearly see his Adam's apple quiver a little, and the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly. "I, uh, I saw the fliers and I had to come see the new cat café."

The man's smile grew on his face. "Great!" he beamed. "You're actually my first customer. I'm Dominik the owner, by the way. But you can call me Da-- *cough, Dom." He smiled nervously, a pinkish hue forming on his face. "What can I get you?"

The owner was really friendly, and he seemed to be over the moon to have a customer. You could tell by how giddy he seemed, and even some of the kittens picked up on it, their glances shifting between him and you.

You looked at the menu behind Dom, amazed by the wide array of tasty treats and delicious drinks that you could order. There were so many choices that you couldn't make up your mind.

"Um," you wondered. "Surprise me." You shrugged, figuring that the café owner wouldn't find the request too annoying... or at least you hoped not.

Luckily, Dom's smile remained, and it even grew bigger. "Sure thing, Kitten," he grinned. "Go ahead and take a seat and I'll bring it out to you."

You winced internally at his odd nickname for you, but ignored it for the moment.

You took a seat near the window, taking time to pet some of the cats that were brave enough to wander close to you. A fluffy orange kitten with little stripes on it clawed its way up your pant leg, hopping into your lap and purring loudly.

"Aww, cute little guy," you cooed as you pet the kitten, loving how it purred even louder.

"That's Pumpkin," Dom said as he approached the table. "It looks like he likes you."

Dom placed a small cup on the table in front of you and a little baked treat. It looked like a cookie in the shape of a cat, whereas the cup was a latte with a little heart made out of the foam. It was really cute.

"Thank you," you said as you took a sip of the latte, your eyes widening at how sweet it was. And it totally lacked any of the bitterness that coffee drinks typically have. In short: It was fantastic! "This is amazing!"

Dom took the seat opposite yours. "I'm glad you like it, Kitten," he genuinely smiled. He then nodded at Pumpkin. "Are you looking for a cat to take home?"

You frowned slightly. "No," you relented. "My boyfriend's allergic to cats, so I can't adopt one."

Dom's smile vanished and his square jaw clenched. "Yeah..." he huffed, something audible in his deep voice, "that's not too good." He sighed before forcing a smile back onto his face. "I guess that means that you'll just have to come visit more often."

You looked up at the larger man in awe.

Blushing, Dom hurriedly added, "I know Pumpkin will miss you."

Almost as if on cue, Pumpkin meowed.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

After your first visit to the café, you quickly became a regular.

Every so often, you would come by to play with Pumpkin and some of the other cats.

And each and every time, Dom would light up and eagerly strike up a conversation with you, looking as giddy as a kid on Christmas. He was really nice to you and he was quickly starting to grow on you.

He was becoming a really great friend to you.

One day, you rushed over to the café, eager to tell the man the wonderful news that you had. Your fists balled up excitedly, you burst into the small shop, seeing Dom sitting near the counter with a few new kittens.

He perked up when he saw you, his face instantly brightening up. "Hey, Y/N!" he cheered, then he saw how excited you looked. "What's the good news?"

You couldn't resist shoving your left out towards him, showing off the gold band on your ring finger. "My boyfriend proposed!" you ecstatically cheered. "Check out the ring too! Nice, right?"

You were all smiles, dreaming of walking down the aisle to marry your boyfriend: a.k.a. the man of your dreams.

Dom smiled too, although his grin didn't touch his eyes. In fact, his smile looked pained, forced. He sharply exhaled before perking up slightly.

"How about a drink to celebrate?" he asked. "I've been working on a new one." He moved behind the counter and began to shuffle around with some ingredients, his broad back blocking your view of what he was messing with. He peeked over his shoulder to make sure that you couldn't see him add something special to your cup.

When he was done, Dom turn back around and placed a warm mug in front of you. He made sure to take extra care to shape the foam into a cute little kitty.

"I hope you enjoy," Dom grinned, pushing the mug closer to you.

You grabbed it and took a sip. The drink was incredibly sweet, just as you liked it. "It's delicious, Dom," you beamed. "Thank you so much!"

He smiled triumphantly as you downed your drink.

As the two of you talked about your wedding plans (Dom's smile morphed into a frown the more you went on about it), you suddenly felt yourself get a little dizzy.

You placed a shaking hand up to your head to try and steady yourself, but the room felt like it was spinning.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Dom asked, a cheerful tone in his voice.

You wondered what was going on, not sure if you were catching a virus or something. "Um," you mumbled, "I think I'm getting sick. I'll just head home..."

You stood up, but your legs were wobbly and they gave out on you, sending you toppling down.

Before you hit the hard ground, Dom rushed over and wrapped both of his strong arms around you, securing you tightly in his hold. He pulled you to his torso, and you felt his chest rumble a little as he seemingly purred like a happy cat.

"Wha--?" you tried to ask, but it getting harder to speak as your vision blurred and you felt weaker by the second.

"Shh," Dom cooed as he placed a tender hand on your cheek. "Just relax, Kitten. Let Daddy take care of you."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, everything went black...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

When you began to stir awake, you first noticed that everything felt so comfortable. Seriously, whatever bed you were lying in had the softest sheets, and there was a fluffy comforter that was so incredibly warm. And speaking of warm, a large body cuddled you from behind, keeping you nice and secured--

"What!?" you jolted awake, everything rushing to you all at once. You struggled to move, but your panic only heightened as you realized that your arms and legs were bound together by what felt like silk ties. The fabric was soft to the touch so as not to irritate your skin, but they were tied so tightly that they severely restricted your movement.

Looking around the bedroom that you found yourself in, you could see that there were tons of cat toys and décor around. A few of the kittens from the café where in the room, watching you intently. Pumpkin purred happily when he saw you, his tail flicking to and fro with glee.

You kept trying to thrash your body around to get free, but the body behind you only tightened its grip on you, effectively stopping you.

"Calm down, Kitten," Dom sleepily yawned, his hot breath wafting over your ear due to his closeness to you.

You tensed up when you felt his lips press to your cheek.

"Dom?!" you cried, unable to get free with his arms around you. He even laid one of his strong legs over yours, his entire body acting as a double lock. "What's going on?"

The larger man chuckled. "Kitten," he cooed, "isn't it obvious? You going to marry that... guy." He said the last part with such anger in his voice that it almost came out as a growl, making some of the cats in the room hiss in response. "So I had to just snatch you up and take you home with me."

You were stunned silent, unable to wrap your head around what was going on. "What do you mean?" you trembled.

Dom pressed his lips against you once more, purring as he did so. "I love you so much, Y/N. So I brought you home with me to convince you to be with me, not with your ex-boyfriend."

"You're insane..." you try to argue, earning a nip from him.

"Don't say that," he hissed. "I'm not insane, you're insane for trying to marry some guy who's not me. You belong to me, and that's why you're here: to be with me, and only me."

Dom tightened his grip on you, sealing off any hope of escape.

"You're mine."

[dolldefiler]

[I will not lie, copying over older posts you wrote while you were horny and rereading them is just not it. This made me cringe but if you're horny enough, I hope it works for you 💀]

Aww, baby, you're not supposed to speak. You're my little kitty now, aren't you? Be a good kitten and meow for me. Good girl. Such a good fucking girl, I'm so proud of you. Purr and mewl for me, my adorable little kitten. Now, now, you know all good kittens need a collar, don't you? A pretty little collar for your pretty little neck. There, it even has my name on it. Now you'll never forget your owner's name.

Aww, my cute little baby, you've not been speaking have you? You know kittens don't speak. They meow and paw at their owners like needy little dolls if they need anything. Do you need anything, my pretty little pet? You do? Is that why you're lewdly grinding against my cock? Mhm? Is that why your pussy's so slick and wet and ready to be fucked? My, my, you're so adorably needy, aren't you? Good. I want you clingy. I want you near me all the time. On me. Around me.

Good fucking kitty. Just mewl like that. I'm so fucking proud of you for drinking your milk out of a bowl. I'm so proud of you for crawling around like that. It must hurt your pretty knees, mustn't it? It's okay baby, just get on your back so I can pet your stomach and neck and... oh my, what might these be? These perfectly lewd tits. Can you blame your owner for wanting to grope these? For wanting to fucking you while I wrap my hand around your collar and sloppily exchange kisses with my pet? You're just a good fucking kitten that I need to be bury my cock into. For me to care and look after you. You'll let me protect you, won't you?

[aris-ink]

Omg all of your works are so so good I’ve binge read them all😭😭😭 can I please request like an agedup!/ dilf!Namjoon with reader, dub/non-con? Daddy Joon just has me on my knees all day every day🧎🏽‍♀️

tysm I love you <3 and 👀

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: strangers to lovers, doctor!namjoon au

warnings: implied murder, mentions of anxiety and neglect, hints of (emotional) parental abuse, obsession, corruption, dub con, misconduct, inappropriate medical examinations lmao, age gap, daddy kink, praise, soft manipulation, psychological humiliation, multiple orgasms, risky sex, creampie, implied imprisonment/pet play at the end??? (up for interpretation ajdjdfjdh)

Namjoon always had a soft spot for strays. A keen eye, too. And you? You were but a little kitten in the body of a tigress. A kitten without an owner. Not one that knew how to care for you, anyway, and sometimes that was a fate far worse than one of an orphan.

He wasn't quite sure what it was about you that caught his eye. He has never felt anything towards any of his patients, politely ignoring any subtle attempts at flirting with him. But after your first visit, he decided right then and there that he was going to help you get better; in every way he could. Bring out that little kitten from hiding and give her shelter, where she wouldn't need to pretend to fit in with the predators to survive.

Because now, you had your very own predator watching your back.

He looked forward to your every visit, although it pained him to see you unwell. When he noted the slight tremble in your hands as you sat in his office, he started weighing the pros and cons of referring you to a psychiatrist. Did he want to see you wither away to nothing? No. Did he want to hand you over to someone else? Definitely not.

Tapping his pen against his lower lip, he lifted his eyes from the computer to your face.

So beautiful. So frail. Oh, he could crush you if his hands weren't careful. Maybe he should; maybe you needed to fall apart and be rebuilt again. What a shame. What an opportunity.

Shall we leave it up to fate?

Gently, Namjoon reached out to take your hand in his.

"Listen to me, sweetheart," he sighed. "You're not well, and I don't think there is much more I can do. I think you need to see a specialist."

You only blinked at him, looking so lost, your brows furrowed softly.

Namjoon gave your hand a squeeze, then released it to swivel around in his chair, facing his computer again.

"I'm going to write you a letter of referral, and then-"

"I don't-" you interrupted him, immediately avoiding his eyes. "I don't think I want to see a psychiatrist right now."

Ah. There we go.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side.

"I know it's a big decision, but you need help to get better."

You hesitated for a moment, laying your hands down in your lap. You fiddled with your skirt, and Namjoon had to physically restrain himself from letting his gaze wander down to the smooth skin of your legs.

"But..." You sighed, biting down on your lower lip. "Then..." Another sigh, like you couldn't quite figure out how to express yourself properly. "Can you help me?"

'Atta girl.

Namjoon took his glasses off and placed them on the desk beside him. He stayed quiet, watching you with dark eyes, waiting for you to wrap up your thoughts.

"I- I don't want to see anyone else right now," you managed. "It's hard enough to open up to one doctor."

His lips quirked. Check, mate. How perfect you were, building yourself a house of straws. How considerate for the wolf who wanted to devour you.

This was his cue to stick to his oath and do what was best for his patient. The only thing was that every patient's case differed; and he knew exactly what was best for you right now. What you lacked, what threw you off balance in the first place. Only he possessed the medicine that held the cure to all the aches of your soul.

He pretended to think it over, his eyes sincere as they stared into yours.

"Okay," he agreed, soft and quiet.

It was enough for a ghost of a smile to grace your face. His heartbeat picked up its pace.

"But," he continued, leaning down to grab a stethoscope from a plastic drawer, "I need you to work with me, okay? I want to see you get better."

You nodded instantly, your back straightening when he stood up from his chair.

"How about we start with a check up?" He suggested, placing a large hand on your shoulder. "Can you lie down for me?"

You relaxed beneath his touch, silently leaning back to sink into the leather bed. It was propped up, so you were really almost halfway to sitting up, but he gave you a warm smile, briefly moving his hand to rest atop your head.

"Good girl."

He noticed the deep inhale, the way you seemed to flush at the praise, and he had to busy himself with putting the stethoscope on in order not to barge into that little straw house and frighten you with his sharp teeth.

No. He'd claw at it, circle it, until you were curious enough to peek outside and consider what the beast had to say to you. And most importantly, what it had to offer.

He placed the cool end of the stethoscope on your chest. Your heartbeat instantly pulsed in his ears, loud, clear and fast. He looked down at you, sliding it an inch lower, his knuckles barely ghosting the swell of your breast.

A beautiful stutter in the rhythm followed.

"Are you uncomfortable?" He murmured.

You shook your head, your voice coming out soft when you answered.

"No."

"Nervous?"

You shook your head again.

Namjoon smiled at you.

"Good. There's no need to be."

He took the stethoscope off then and put it somewhere behind him, not paying it much more attention. Instead, he placed his hand on the crown of your head again, his thumb brushing over your temple.

"Do you get heart palpitations often?"

You stared up at him, those big, innocent eyes making it hard for him to remember that an entire world existed outside of you, outside of this room. Making him want to do bad things. Dip into that innocence and twist it inside out, just like you did to his soul.

"Sometimes," you replied quietly.

Namjoon hummed.

"Do you know how many physical conditions follow anxiety? Stress spreads like poison. Ignoring it is never a solution."

He noted the way his statement sank into you. Nothing he said was a lie; but how easily you accepted any words that fell from his mouth made his stomach tighten. Oh, he'd leave black handprints all over your pure, little soul. And he was okay with that. An eternal mark, proof of belonging to him.

You sighed. That made his heart tighten. Such a pitiful sound. How could he ever resist taking you into his care? Would a priest resist a sinner's confession? Never. It was a holy path, guiding people and helping them heal. You deserved the best of them all.

"That being said," Namjoon continued, "I'll ask you a few questions now, and press down on a few crucial places." He emphasized his point by putting some pressure onto his thumb, proceeding to massage your temple. "Is that okay with you?"

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

"Yes."

His thumb slid down the soft, warm skin of your face, tracing the apple of your cheeks.

"Are you still getting migraines, love?"

You shook your head. Namjoon placed his hand on your tummy, his thumb once again drawing comforting, mindless patterns into the cotton material of your shirt. You exhaled softly.

"How about nausea?" He asked, keeping his voice low and his eyes on yours. "Did that improve at all?"

"A... a little."

It was difficult to focus on anything but the way you responded to his touch. He was mesmerized by how flustered you seemed, but how pliant all at once. Laid down before him like a sacrificial lamb, your fate long accepted. Perhaps even cherished. A lamb longing to be slaughtered and handed straight into the hands of their god, looking for the slightest proof of his existence; even if it came in the form of death. Always, in the end, yearning for their father's warm embrace.

"That's good," he whispered.

Cautiously, he let his hand slip a little lower, his palm brushing over your abdomen before it settled at its very bottom. Your breath caught in your throat, yet you didn't move or look away from him.

"But... medication can only help so much. Same goes for relaxation. The best way to solve a problem is to focus on its root, don't you think?"

You nodded once more, and he felt content and intrigued at the same time, his free hand settling down on your knee.

"Then let's do that."

He could see the way your gaze flickered to his hand, tracing the veins over it before flicking back to his face.

He gave you a small squeeze of reassurance.

"College has been difficult, hasn't it? Not to mention... everything else. Have you tried to socialize a little more like I recommended?"

His question prompted you to sigh once more.

"Not really."

Namjoon let his hand shift a little higher, coming into contact with your inner thigh. The softness of your skin alone was enough to stir warmth inside his body; but the way your muscles tensed suddenly only added fuel to the fire, setting him ablaze.

"Why not?" He questioned. "Humans are social creatures. Conversation, a sense of belonging, and even-" his hand finally wrapped around the flesh of your thigh firmly, giving it a squeeze, "touch, can bring tremendous comfort."

You gasped, and the sound made him throb. Meekly, you turned your head to the side, looking away from him.

"It's hard to change."

Namjoon gave your thigh another squeeze, a gesture that could have been comforting, had his hand not been resting on the very inside of it, tips of his fingers brushing the skin under your skirt. Instead, it was rather inappropriate; but you were nowhere near close to pushing him away. And that was an invitation enough for him to lean in a little, his lips stopping just before they touched your ear.

"Change starts within."

You swallowed thickly, frozen in place. Enthralled or perhaps frightened. Beautiful all the same.

"How?" You whispered, like you weren't sure what he meant.

Namjoon pressed his fingers into your leg, slowly pulling it away from the other. His lips brushed over your ear this time, his answer coming out equally quiet.

"Let me show you."

He could feel the shiver that went through you; it quickly morphed into the smallest, softest whine when he rested his hand upon your clothed core. He expected the heat and he expected the wetness, but not this much. There was a clear, damp spot forming on the cotton, burning beneath his skin.

His knees felt weak, his fingers pressing into it automatically to rub slowly. He let out a strained, shallow breath into your ear.

"Oh, I think you really want to learn, hm?"

Your hand flew up to his coat, grabbing at his collar helplessly. Namjoon lowered his head further and placed his lips on your neck, pressing a hot, heavy kiss right into your pulse point.

"I'll teach you, baby."

Your back arched gently at the name, thighs spreading more to encourage his touch, let him defile you whatever way he wanted. Something slipped out of your lips as you pulled on his collar; something like a moan. A moan in the shape of a word that made his head snap up sharply.

It was almost a whisper. But there was no way he wouldn't have heard it; you were all he could hear, feel and see right now.

"What did you call me?"

Though his pace remained slow, his fingers began to rub your clit harder, the soaked material so flimsy he could practically feel you pulse under his touch.

He stared into your eyes, watching you struggle to catch your breath through his ministrations. It appeared to be even more difficult when he asked the question, embarrassment instantly shadowing your features.

Namjoon tsked.

"Come on, you can do it."

He dragged his fingers away from the spot he was massaging, only to slip them underneath your panties.

"Say it again."

Your hips jerked in surprise. The heat of your soaked folds, bare under his fingers, made his cock twitch in the tight confines of his pants. God, you felt so perfect; divine, really. He pressed the tip of his finger into your clit, trying to coax you, his strokes firm and lazy.

You moaned. It was a heavenly sound. No angel choir could have compared. As if on instinct, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

"Daddy," it was shy and came with a shudder.

It was filthy and had him throbbing again, driving him to press his lips against your cheek as he touched you.

"Who hurt you, baby?"

The words came out soft, so unlike their actual mocking nature.

"A man takes advantage of you, and the first thing you can think of is spreading your legs and calling him daddy?"

The amused murmur went straight into your skin - and then deep, deep beneath it. He felt you grip his collar tighter, felt and heard the unsteady, shaky breath that fled you.

If you had been embarrassed before, you were mortified now, on the verge of crying. But he could also feel more slick gushing right out of you, and he sped up his movements on your clit slightly. His lips felt soft against your heated cheek, slow in making their way up to your ear.

"It's okay," he whispered. "That's a good girl. Show me where it hurts. I'll make it better."

A breathy, quiet moan was the only sound you were capable of producing. Namjoon let himself continue feeling and memorizing every inch of your skin he could, the bridge of his nose brushing your neck.

"Lemme fix it. Lemme fix you, sweetheart."

Your fingers dug into his shoulder, hips beginning to move in circles, mimicking his touch, following it straight into oblivion.

"Good girl," he repeated his praise in a quiet breath. "Gonna come for daddy?"

You pressed your face into his neck, whimpering into it. Your body answered for you, thighs trembling when it hit you, his fingers sticky and wet as they ceased their movements.

He didn't move his hand, though, kept it pressed against your cunt, even when a knock on the door made you jump.

"I'll be there soon," Namjoon called, ignoring your attempts at trying to close your legs and turn away from him. He grabbed your jaw and pressed his lips into yours, wasting no time in suffocating any protests and worries with a messy kiss.

With his forehead leaning against yours, he finally took his hands off you only to unzip himself. The sound startled you, your eyes popping open and shoulders stiffening.

He smiled at you, his dimples showing, as if he wasn't prying your legs apart to settle himself in between them.

"I- I-" you stammered nervously, shaking your head in protest.

Namjoon pressed into you, the tip of his hard cock rubbing right against your leaking entrance slowly.

"You what?" He breathed into your lips, dark, hungry eyes stuck on yours.

You mewled, fighting to keep your eyes open and your hips in place. How cute.

"You don't want to get better?"

You stared back at him, eyes hooded but brows furrowed, your chest heaving against his. The internal conflict was a lot, as was his cock twitching against your heat; but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Did you know?" Namjoon murmured. "When the soul gets sick, so does the body. Pretending all your life is gonna get you nowhere, baby."

The warmth of his hand burned into your hip as he pushed forward. The tip of his cock slipped into your tight heat, making your back arch beneath him. Namjoon's head fell into your neck, a low groan escaping his throat.

"I'll take care of you, I'll never leave you lonely or worried," he breathed into your skin, continuing to push forward agonizingly slowly. "You'll never... have to feel... that way again."

Each inch stretched you out so well, reaching deeper and deeper - until his hips were flush against yours and you felt like there wasn't enough air in the room.

Namjoon's harsh, hot breaths dotted your skin in goosebumps. He lifted his head to look up at you, entranced. Your eyes shone with unshed tears, mouth wide open, and he wondered if it was from the feeling of his cock inside you, or from his words. He wondered if your heart was also jumping out of your chest, desperate to get closer to his.

He got his answer when you tightened around him. His free hand travelled up your waist, hips pulling away only to slam back into you. Only one thought remained in his head. How divine you were, quivering beneath him and fighting to stay quiet. Right where you belonged; in his arms, at home. Where you didn't have to worry about obtaining money, acceptance or affection. You didn't even have to ask for it. You just had to take it.

He kept his pace steady, careful not to make too much noise, though it was hard with the way you were dripping and clenching around his cock. He tried to muffle the soft moans with another kiss, his tongue quick to slip past your lips. But it didn't do much to hide the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking you. He could feel his spine tingling, a veiny hand settling on your breast to knead it.

He knew there was no time. But considering the fact that his balls were already tightening, it wasn't going to be a problem. He broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips.

"Gotta be quick today, baby," he breathed, pressing two fingers into your clit to rub it harshly. "Yeah? Is that okay?"

The way your pussy squeezed his cock made his hips stutter. He released your breast to slap his hand over your mouth as you started coming, his head finding rest in your neck once more.

His moans were quiet, raspy, his cock pulsating inside you. With how big he was, it seemed there should have been nowhere for his cum to go, and yet he filled you up with every last drop until his eyes rolled back.

You still quivered around him when he stopped moving, trying to catch some air into his lungs. He lifted himself up slowly, releasing your mouth to stroke your cheek instead. You looked so perfect; dazed and exhausted, lips swollen, the tension completely gone from your body. Namjoon could feel it too; the glow in his chest, the euphoria running through his veins. He leaned it to place a gentler, lingering kiss on your lips.

"You did so well," he murmured lovingly. "Such a good girl."

With delicate fingers, he grasped the drenched cotton of your underwear and held it carefully as he slipped out of you. Even if he could make a mess in his office, the thought of you going home with his cum leaking out of you into your panties was enough to make him twitch. He breathed out a sigh, zipped himself up and helped you sit.

"Good?" He whispered, eyeing you intently.

You shied away from his gaze but nodded. Namjoon smiled, then turned to grab a piece of paper and a pen.

"Your next appointment is on Monday," he scribbled on the sheet as he talked to you. "This is my private number and address. In case you need anything."

You stared at him uncertainly. Namjoon cocked his head, the tone of his voice kind, though it didn't match the darkness in his eyes.

"My door's always open for you."

Slowly, you lifted your hand and accepted the small note, planting both of your feet onto the floor.

"But..." you fiddled with the sleeves of your blouse, eyes still bright with tears. "O... okay. Thank you."

With a nod and a subtle smile, Namjoon opened the door for you. The low hum of conversation and soft lights lighting up the corridor reminded him that he still hasn't finished his work for the day. But with the taste of you still on his lips, he didn't really care.

Through the window in his office, blurred by the streaks of rain hitting the glass, he watched you get into your father's car. He narrowed his eyes as he observed the man's scowl, like it was an awful inconvenience that he had to wait this long. Only this once, Namjoon could sympathize with him. He didn't like waiting either.

And yet it was what he had to do for the sake of your well-being. Good thing that for this very reason, he didn't mind killing your father slowly. Who'd know if he exchanged a couple of pills? No one but God, and he feared no judgement. Where was God when he put you into the hands of a neglectful, harmful parent? As far as Namjoon was concerned, God's sins outweighed his own.

He could see you buckling up, still dazed and tired, withdrawn from your surroundings. The car began to reverse, and slowly you disappeared from his sight altogether.

Poor, little kitten. Searching for sustenance and warmth. He didn't even need to ask you to keep quiet, or worry about whether you'd show up at his door. He knew you would. Somewhere in your bones, you so clearly felt it. It was time for you to heal; time to find you a new home. And he had a pretty collar with your name on it waiting for you under lock and key. A pretty golden ring as well.

Only the best for his little girl.

💌 taglist: @wonyuknow @baalsgurl1913 @glowunderthemoon @sweetempathprunetree @era-genius @bucketofhiros @imnotlauriane @httpsbts @silv3rswirls @iceprincessviviane @osakis-gf @kooktrash @dollseung

[azurlily]

Our obsession with this game is natural... PROMISE(lies)

To anyone who played the game, yes, all romancable characters + Elena and Mia are requestable.

New writers on the block yall! I'm Lune, this is a collaborative writing effort from the original owner(Azurli) and I. This somehow just turned into shit about Bella being crazy and and in love with you, so enjoy.

Bella's Obsessive(Toxic) Tendencies

Bella loves you, she does, but sometimes she loves you too much. The idea was in her head long before she had gotten her heart back.

Bella had dreams of you, of you in her arms - without a shirt or pants. You looked beautiful, and every night she'd wake up in a sweat, her face red, and her thighs wet.

After Bellas heart was unnumbed(is this a word?) she was feeling so much, too much.

One moment, she was happy and content with being around you; the next, she was mad because someone looked at you.

Toxic isn't how one would describe the beginning of your relationship. It isn't how Bella would describe it either, but to outside forces...that's exactly what it looked like.

To others, it seemed like the horrible Ice Queen on campus had decided you would be hers, against your will.

Which, in reality, we all know is far from the truth. With how deeply you love her, you two will be able to overcome anything, even her overly possessive nature.

Right?

Of course, if Bella is anything, it's a fighter. It's not like she's become so used to being trapped under Miranda's thumb that she has begun to develop a complex.

That's preposterous. Bella doesn't worry about what would happen if you found someone different. She doesn't dream about you finding the girl that got a bit too close to you, dead. And when you run to her in fear, you hug her knowing she's never done anything unless it was to protect you.

Bella doesn't imagine Mia's blood on her hands as you cry into her shoulder, thankful to be protected.

Bella is perfectly sane in her love for you.

Now let's be serious.

Bella would give you anything and everything. Well, maybe not anything... not yet, at least. She wouldn't hurt her family for you, but damn, the anger she holds for her mother at times. She worries for herself.

Bella gives you her all in the relationship. That means she gives all of herself: no more secrets, no lies. She bares herself to you wholeheartedly and completely. She expects you to do the same, so if you don't, you will lose her. You love her too much not to, right?

Right.

"I love you, you know that right? You make me so happy, I love you so much."

Bella's words are a sweet poison; don't drink it. After a fight, she'll storm off not only to cool herself down but also to let you cool off.

You've both learned that this is for the best, especially if you want to keep this relationship going long-term, which you will. Bella wouldn't allow you to leave her.

On some occasions, Bella will wait for you to apologize first, and then she'll act like she was just getting ready to apologize to you.

Her words are as sweet as honey, but her voice is as sharp as a razor. You can't tell if she's happy, angry, sad, or horny.

Bella does this on purpose, and you're starting to figure it out.

When she speaks to you, she doesn't lie, so everything she says is true. However, the way she says it and the little words she sprinkles in change the meaning entirely.

That's enough of that though, Bella wants you to think of the good times with her. The fun times, the safe times.

The times when you're lying in her warm bed, her hands snaking up your thighs, a more content look on her face. She enjoys this, enjoys you, and she'll continue to do so.

Bella has a lot of pent-up sexual aggression, so what better time to let it out than the minute you two get back from a nice dinner?

Well, that sounds just perfect, and from the way you're crying out her name, it must sound good to you too!

"Shh, Kitten. We're going to play the quiet game, and you're already losing by a lot."

This wasn't absolutely horrible was it? I'm ashamed to have wrote this, and I'm sure my co-writer is ashamed to have read through it before posting.

Anyway this character is from the game Resident Lover, it's an amazing game made by @resident-lover .

I'm marking this as spoilers in the tags, and I hope anyone who hasn't played the game after reading this plays it!

[hellenhighwater]

This may be a mildly weird question, and I apologize if it is, but do you have any advice for how to figure out if a person (specifically oneself) would be a good cat owner? I love cats, and a lot of my future dreams involve owning one (or several). However, I often worry that I wouldn't be a good cat owner. When I was a kid, I was often nervous/skittish around animals because I couldn't predict them and was afraid of getting scratched or bitten. I'm a lot better now than I used to be (will actively seek to interact with my friends' pets, have been trusted to look after peoples' dogs for short periods of time), a lot of my instinctive reactions to being startled by animals are still . . . not entirely helpful. (Not directly harmful! I would never! But stuff like freezing up or pulling away in such a way that it can give the wrong signal to animals.) Plus, I'm not always great at picking up cues/body language from people, and based on what I've read, that's about 75% of how animals communicate, so even during good interactions, I'm always a little worried that I'm doing something wrong because I'm missing some cue.

Again, I love cats and would very much like to have one or more someday. But I only want to do that if I can be sure that I'm going to be able to give any cats of mine a good life, and I don't want to get a cat only to have to rehome it a few months later. Any tips on how to handle all this?

Thanks so much for your time and, more generally, for the delight of seeing Malice and Vice (and the kittens!) periodically on my dash. Your posts about them always brighten my day. <3

It sounds like you'd be a good owner to the right cat, and that you may want to find someone who can help you pick that cat out when you're in a position to adopt one. If you're lucky, a local shelter or rescue may be able to help you with this. If you can, call ahead and explain that you're looking for your first cat, and would like some help finding that one; ask if there's a good time to come meet some cats where someone who knows the current cats well could maybe point you to one that might be right. Also, if a personality profile for a cat includes "good with kids," that probably means they're going to be tolerant of any mistakes you might make re: body language.

You should definitely look for an adult, at least six years old, maybe even a cat in the senior category (which, depending on how a shelter or rescue categorizes cats, can be any cat over the age of 10. Cats can live a long time, so 10 is really not that old.) Try to not get attached to specific looks and just go by personality.

Cats have a lot of personality variety, and there's tons of cats out there that are truly very friendly and cuddly, and really just need someone to meet their basic needs and shower them in affection. An adult cat that has lived with people before, or who was just a friendly stray is probably going to take it fine if you freeze up or pull back suddenly, and if they're old enough to have become chill, will just walk away if you're bugging them. Crucially, you do not want to try to take a difficult or traumatized cat as your very first one. Those cats need help, true, but you need to learn first.

You can learn a lot about body language for cats online, but mostly you learn it by exposure. Plus, cat body language can be very individual-specific, so it's fine to just learn over time what your cat is saying.

There's tons of cats that are just sweet-natured. A'Tuin, my momma foster, would make a great first cat for someone! She's not shy about coming up and asking for attention, and will even use her paws to pull my hand to her face for ear scratches. She's good with not using her claws, has never tried to nip or bite, and mostly just wants to be looked after and cuddled. And there's tons of cats like her out there.

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Cat AU

Okay, so, two particular pieces of beautifully drawn fan art have collided together in my head to create a light and fluffy self-indulgent image that I just had to share with you all.

@okamiliqueur's heartbreaking picture of Jack's lonely and forgotten box from the new demo made me think of cats abandoned in boxes, "free to a good home." Only in the case of the game's story, he was left out in the rain to rot, the owner having given up giving him a good home.

@jazzylovetodraw's picture of Jack as a cat has been buzzing in my mind for quite a while. I just love how precious he looks in both forms, and when I was thinking of Jack being like those abandoned kittens in cardboard boxes... well, the combination was obvious.

I know that Jack's fursona is a snake, and I know being a cat is Shaun's thing, but I'm a sucker for kitties. I'm as biased towards cats as I am for dragons, if my avatar and username didn't offer enough of a hint. ;3 I'd love to see all the characters as kitties honestly.

Tempting though it may be to go with Fruits Basket rules for kitty Jack, like I toyed with over on twitter, I think I'm going to play with a different and simpler set of rules. In this universe, Jack is stuck as a cat until his sunshine's love allows him to become human again.

Admittedly, it's kind of hard to imagine Jack being alone for very long when he looks so adorable. Who wouldn't fall in love with that precious kitty face instantly? Most everyone would be putty in his paws.

Content Warning: I wind up touching on a couple explicit headcanon details near the end. I mean, I did say this is a pretty self-indulgent image with my OTP.

Maybe Jack was stuck as a cat via a curse ala Hocus Pocus and is guarding the box/tape/etc. Maybe he was stuck as a cat instead of in the tape and no one could see him until MC came along. Maybe he's got a tragic backstory like the cat from Fruits Basket.

Since this AU is more about the vibes, I'm just going to leave the how and why parts of the lore up in the air. All that matters is that Jack is stuck as a cat and left out in the rain in a cardboard box until MC decides to take him home.

I'm just going to switch over to Alice and what she would do in this scenario. Poor lonely Alice is out on the town, when she comes across the box out in the rain and sees an equally lonely kitten. Poor little thing, all wet and sad... She just has to take him home with her.

Alice cleans Jack up, gets him wrapped up all nice and warm in a blanket, and even gives him some chicken she bought for her own dinner that night. She'll have to get cat food and other things for her new furry companion tomorrow, though she should probably look for his owner and take him to a vet.

At first, Jack isn't sure what to do about the situation, though he is grateful. No one has even acknowledged his existence until Alice came along. She's so soft and warm. He loves it when she holds him. She's so kind too.

Alice does find it surprising Jack doesn't put up a fuss when being given a bath. Jack didn't exactly like the feeling of being all grimy, and don't get him started on fleas and other gross things cats have to deal with on the streets!

The vet isn't as fun, though Jack is well behaved, though very clingy to Alice throughout the appointment. He can't help but fear that she'll abandon him too. He'll keep up the helpless and adorably needy kitty act if it means she'll stay with him.

There's no ID chip, no tag, and no missing notice for any cat that looks like Jack. It's clear that the poor guy is a stray.

Alice is hesitant initially. She's wanted to get a pet cat for a long time now, but she has barely been able to take care of herself. How can she handle taking care of an innocent life that needs her when she's struggling so much with her own life?

That hesitation doesn't last long. Jack loves on Alice so much, constantly purring and snuggling up to her. He curls up with her when she sleeps or relaxes. He was hesitant at first, and she assumed that was because he was wary of her, when in reality, he just didn't want to cross any of her boundaries. He didn't want to do anything that might upset her and make her get rid of him. When she started petting and cuddling him, he wholeheartedly returned the affection, absolutely starved for it.

The first thing Alice thought when she saw Jack was that he was lonely, just like her. He's so sweet and can't stand to be apart from her. How can she just get rid of him when he makes her feel loved and needed?

Of course, a cat's life isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Cat food is a step down from people food, and a litterbox is anything but sanitary. Jack just skips that nonsense and goes straight to using the toilet despite the awkwardness, which shocks the heck out of Alice. He also snubs all cat food in favor of human food.

Yes, I could go with Jack being a ghost(?) cat that doesn't need food or to use the toilet, but then he wouldn't have gone through the indignities of a vet visit.

Then again... it would be funny if Alice brought Jack to the vet, only for them to think she's crazy, since to them all she's carrying is empty air.

Hmm... yeah, I think I'll go that route. As hilarious as vet hijinks and typical cat care with Jack while he possesses a human mind and identity might be, this would be a more interesting and tragic route. No one else can see Jack but Alice. He's lived for who knows how long in a world full of people that don't see him at all, unable to even be human anymore. It'd be a different type of hell than the one in the video tape, similar to what I talked about in my previous ramble.

Imagine if the 1984 incident Jack died and became a ghost(?) cat because he was secretly a cat shape shifter or something. Or maybe something more supernatural happened during the incident. Either way, cat ghost(?) Jack is very, very lonely.

Man, I just realized, it would be even more tragic (and complicated) if I go with the reincarnation route for this AU. Ghost(?) cat Jack probably had to watch Mary die slowly in the hospital after the incident, unable to help her or let her know that it's him. He couldn't even offer her comfort in her final days. It would've been so traumatizing.

For now, let's just play with this AU without the reincarnation angle, since this is supposed to be mostly light and fluffy feline fun with the OTP.

Jack, even as a cat, tries to do his best to help Alice out. If he can make himself useful, make her need him, then he won't ever lose her. He sneaks out when she goes to work to keep her company even though she initially tried to get him to stay home. No one sees him, so it won't matter. Besides, petting an invisible kitty is a good stress relief when dealing with awful customers, and certainly beats regular stimming.

The more Alice cares for Jack, the more powers he gets back, starting with the ability to talk. It's a huge shock for Alice of course, but Jack makes it clear that it's because of her love for him that made her stronger.

Of course, that love is platonic, at least at the start, which Jack knows full well, but he'll work on shifting things to a romantic love... especially after he gets the power to shift back into a form that has hands.

Like in typical canon, Jack answers Alice's questions as best he can. He probably lost his sense of identity like in game canon, so he references CloudyTown and stuff "he" did there, mixing up the show's lore with his own past. It's also intermingled with his many years spent wandering the streets being ignored and going crazy from the loneliness.

Jack does let Alice know that he used to be able to change from a cat to human. He just... can't anymore. He thinks it was because he was forgotten. He doesn't know why no one can see him until Alice came along.

It's so sad and tragic that Alice can't be unmoved by his plight. Sure, it makes things a bit awkward knowing that Jack is sentient and used to have a human form, but she feels for him. It also makes sense now why Jack always turned away whenever she changed.

Yes, Jack could have peeked. He could have even watched Alice while she was bathing, but he didn't. He refuses to do anything she won't allow. Cuddling her and sleeping in her bed is innocent, but the thoughts he'd have about her when she was undressing were anything but. He loves her too much to take advantage of her innocent trust in him. He needs her to want him to see her in that vulnerable state... even if it drives him crazy lusting over her. Poor pitiful kitty can't even have a good wank off session with his paws.

Still, despite knowing that Jack was human and is sentient, it's hard for Alice not to fall for his feline charms and not think too deeply about that fact. She still winds up cuddling him and petting him.

Of course, when it first hits Alice that she's treating a human like a pet, she stops and apologizes, but Jack insists that it's fine. He enjoys their cuddle time. He gives her the big, pleading kitty eyes as he begs her not to stop, and she can't help but give in.

Awkwardness soon fades and settles into a strange new normal. Alice does wonder if Jack really is real or if she was just so lonely she imagined something this crazy... but his presence is comforting. He keeps her company almost all the time. She doesn't feel alone anymore thanks to him.

Also... now that Jack can talk, he says such sweet things. It's weird to have a "pet" take care of her, but he reminds her of when it's time to brush her teeth, wakes her up for work, helps her get chores done despite how awkward it is with his paws and small size... It's so endearing.

The encouragement and assistance Jack gives Alice is wonderful, and his jokes are so fun and silly, but it's the praise that leaves her feeling flustered. If she didn't know any better, she could swear that he's almost flirting with her sometimes. She's in denial that's what it is, but it feels nice to be told that she's cute, and Jack is so sincere about it... and how can she not melt when he says sweet things with such a sweet face?

It's one morning that things change drastically. Alice's bond with Jack strengthened over time to the point that Jack finally can change back into a mostly human form, though he does have cat ears, a fluffy tail, and whisker markings.

It was a big surprise to them both really, as Jack transformed in his sleep. Alice had gotten used to cuddling up to a talking cat during the night, so it was a shock to wake up in a pair of big muscular arms. Jack was so happy when waking her that morning, giddy to show her his (mostly) human side, that it slipped his mind what a shock it would be.

Naturally, Alice bolted back against the wall away from the stranger in her bed. Jack quickly started reassuring her of who he was and that she wasn't in danger. He stooped down to her level, pretty much wilting really, with ears folded back, as he apologized for scaring her. He was just so happy that he wasn't thinking about how it must look from her side...

Seeing Jack so pitiful and sad, Alice feels her heart go out to him. Once things calm down, she can't help but be amazed by how he looks. Unthinkingly, she reaches up to pet his ears and feel how they attach to his skull. She only fully realizes how forward she's being when Jack starts purring.

Flustered, Alice immediately pulls back, only for Jack to whine at the loss of her touch. He didn't mind it at all. He always loves it when she cuddles with him.

It's a complicated feeling for Alice. On the one hand they've been very close for so long. On the other, Jack is definitely a human, so it feels different now.

Yet, Jack is so sweet. He's mindful of her hesitation, even if he's disappointed. It's harder for him to hide his feelings with such expressive ears. Alice can't help but want to reach out to him, especially after they've already spent so much time together, getting to know one another. He's chased away the loneliness that had been haunting her for so, so long.

Of course, now that Jack has a human form, Alice finds her feelings slipping into "dangerous" territory. He makes her feel so good, so loved, and she feels for him too. She doesn't want to dare assume he might feel anything more for her than just a friend, but she can't help but notice the way he looks at her, the way he clearly longs to be near her. He's so tender and gentle... and they've already been so cuddly.

It's easier for Alice to find herself cuddling up to Jack, letting him and taking guilty pleasure from his gentle warmth. He pets her hair too in return, and it feels surprisingly good... a bit too good at times.

The line between friend or something more blurs with all the cuddles and petting. Alice feels guilty about it, but Jack keeps encouraging her until, finally, something has to give and their relationship changes. Both of them feel relieved when it does, as they couldn't help but worry that their feelings might not be reciprocated.

In a lot of ways, it's pretty close to the normal continuity, just with some fuzzy ears on top. Jack can change into a cat at will now. As he gets stronger, people can start to see him, perhaps as a feline silhouette, or maybe with some unsettling shadows not from a cat. He's certainly going to be a bit territorial and not be afraid to hiss and use his claws if absolutely necessary.

Still, this kitty is pretty content thanks to Alice. Jack loves it when Alice carries him around as a teeny kitty, warm and snuggly against her chest, even in the cleavage of her shirt at times. Naturally, he returns the favor, carrying her around the apartment as often as possible. It's only fair after all~!

Naturally, Jack wants to get intimate with Alice as soon as she lets him. He's so pent up. Even with hands to take care of himself, all the cuddling and now kisses just make him ache for her even more. He longs to be inside her, biting her gently and growling in pleasure as he takes her.

A bonus with Jack being part cat is that he gets to have some vibrating action when he purrs. It adds a whole new dimension to their lovemaking, whether he's using his mouth on her sensitive parts, or thrusting himself deep inside.

Oh, I'm reminded of the cat-like features I mentioned in the Omegaverse AU. I guess Jack, having feline features, would have a dick that's ribbed for her pleasure too. Tongue too. Neither would be sharp because rule of sexy, but it would add a very pleasurable texture that a clever man like Jack is going to take full advantage of~

Of course, Alice can take advantage of those feline features too. The base of Jack's tail and ears are quite sensitive, and she quickly learns what spots get his motor running. Of course, getting Jack excited will lead to him pouncing on her and getting rather frisky, but Alice would certainly be expecting that result~

I can imagine Jack could make himself look fully human without any feline features, but he knows Alice finds his cat side to be adorable. She has a hard time resisting petting him when his ears and tail are out, and he certainly wants to encourage her to pet him as much as possible. He also wants to encourage her to let him pet her as much as possible.

Of course, if Jack can become powerful enough that other people can see him, he'll have to stick with only cat or human form when out in public. Still, even when other people can see and hear him, he prefers to be in Alice's company. Cats have their preferred human, and Alice is Jack's.

Naturally, Jack would have to be sneaky about showing Alice love when in public if there's a chance of getting caught. Good thing he has that perfectly innocent little kitty form to hide in. I can imagine it would lead to some interesting interactions where someone shows up only to find Alice incredibly flustered with a slightly disheveled appearance, while her "pet" Jack is just casually looking smug, as all cats do.

Person: Whoa, what happened to you?

Alice, not looking them in the eye: Uh... Jack, m-my cat just... ah, got a bit excited.

Person: Heh. Cats, am I right?

Alice: Haha... right.

Jack: :3c

Hmm... I wonder then if the other love interests should have cat transformations in this AU too. It'd be a crime if Shaun doesn't have that ability but Jack does. Jack already gets together with Alice, so I don't want to be extra cruel to Shaun.

Admittedly, I don't have too many ideas for other characters with cat modes. Well, aside from an image of Shaun taking care of his baby MoonPie by carrying her around by the scruff. This post was mostly just indulging in sweet moments with my OTP with a bit of feline flavor sprinkled on top. Maybe I'll revisit the idea again if I get more ideas than just a bit of fluff.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this silly romp with Alice and Jack having some feline fun times!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[sinamonrol]

Sometimes, I like to imagine what Kim and Harry would do together after all of DE like in their line of work

For example: Kim and Harry go to find a lost kitty

Kim: "Detective, how does a lost cat connect to our current case? Let's just report this back to the precinct and let the lost-and-found department handle this case." he looks down at his notebook uninterested in finding the cat

Logic: There is no lost-and-found department.

Composure [Easy:Failure]: The poor kitten is lost and afraid. Curl up in a ball and cry at how devastating that image is.

Rhetoric [Medium:Success]: Show Kim how much this lost cat means to you. That'll convince Kim to listen.

Harry: "But Kim, the kitty... he's lost and needs to find a way home..." you look up at Kim with tears blurring your vision

Perception [Trivial:Sucess]: There in the tree you walk past, you hear a familiar cry of a lost soul

Harry: "Kim, did you hear that?"

Kim: "Detective, we need to-"

Harry: "There! Up in the tree!" You point to the branch in which the stands afraid

Kim: "I don't see it, Detective." He squints his eyes, trying to locate the branch where he hears the voice from

Visual Calculus [Easy:Failure]: You could easily climb up there in the tree, grab the cat, and come down heroically, proving to Kim that you were in fact right in helping this cat.

Harry: You clumsily climb the tree, almost falling on your way up, and when you get to the branch where the cat is, you reach for the branch using it as support.

Harry: The branch can't support your weight and breaks as both you and the cat fall off the tree

Lost Cat: As he is falling, he notices Kim and prepares to land square on his face

Pain Threshold [Trivial:Sucess]: You've experienced worst pain than this before, walk it off.

Kim:"Detective, are you okay?" The cat is still hugging Kim's face as he gently pulls the cat off and cradles it like a baby.

Harry: Picking yourself up, you notice the cat has cuddled up to Kim and wished you were the cat right now

Harry:"Let's go back to the precinct and return the cat to its owner" there's a hint of jelousy in your voice as the cat looks at you without a care in the world

*Back at the precinct*

Jean Vicquemare: "Did you make any progress in the case?" he looks over at Kim and notices the cat in his hand. "...not again..."

Empathy [Easy:Failure]: He looks tired, I think he's taken on too many cases and needs a good night sleep.

Harry: "Did you want me to grab a cup of coffee for you?"

Jean Vicquemare: "Shitkid, how many times have I told you to focus on your case. We've got enough case load as is, and you helping a lost cat doesn't help anybody here." he tries his best not to raise his voice but is clearly upset and exasperated.

Kim: "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I tried to convince him out of it, but you know how he gets." Kim tries to calm Jean but clearly Jean is upset at you and not Kim.

Jean Vicquemare: "Listen, Lieutenant Kitsuragi, while I appreciate your attempts at trying to convince him, shitkid over here needs to get his shit together to complete the case soon or else..." he's looking at you with a glare

Rhetoric: Feel around your pocket. Remember the clues you picked up on your way back to the precinct. Maybe that'll convince Jean to get off your case.

Composure [hard:failure]: Shit shit shit. Jean is right. You picked up nothing. Nada. Your pocket only holds trinkets of your trip. Oh god, what are we going to do.

Drama [easy:failure]: Lie about your trip. Maybe if you convince Jean that the trinkets you picked up along that way was a gift for him he'd let you go

Harry: Pulls out a pinecone from your pocket. "Jean, this is for you, my dearest partner. I found it while we were out, and it reminded me of you. " You look at him with puppy dog eyes.

Jean Vicquemare: "..." he sighs tired and ready to give up on you entirely

*end scene*

[scarletwinterxx]

i don't know how to make eggs - mark lee scenario

I just had to😂 GO STREAM GOLDEN HOUR! it's sooooo good😭😭anyways, so this one is a prolouge of the 'mark lee dad au' you can read it here:

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Mark, babe what are you doing?"

You just woke up again after having rough morning, the morning sickness has been kicking your ass for weeks. Most of your AM has been spent with you feeling so sick, not really able to keep everything except for one thing.

"Making eggs, you can eat that right?" Mark looks over at you, taking in your appearance. In his eyes, you're so beautiful right now wearing his shirt, your pregnant tummy showing.

You see him standing by the stove with a spatula in one hand. Oh your poor adorable husband. Standing in the middle of the kitchen looking like a lost kitten.

"You don't know how to cook eggs" you told him, walking over to him to hug him. Immediately Mark returns the hug, he feels your growing belly against him making him grin. In just a few months, it will be the three of you.

"No but it's the least I could do for you"

"You do enough"

"Nonsense. This is nothing compared to you carrying our child, you're literally growing a human" he exclaims, feeling you chuckle before stepping out of his embrace. Kissing him on the cheek before taking the spatula from him.

"Yes, and your little human here only likes eggs. Unlucky for him, his dad doesn't know how to make one" you tease your husband, earning an eyeroll from him

"I'm trying! see I only broke like two"

"Good job" you indulge him, taking few more eggs from the tray to cook for the two of you.

"I'm a big boy, I can cook"

"You can cook as good as I can ride a bike" you tell him, putting oil on the pan he was using. You can feel Mark from behind you, "You don't know how to ride a bike, baby"

"Exactly"

"You're mean, you've never been mean to me. This isn't you, this is pregnancy talking" he says, hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. You just laugh at his statement.

Mark has always been an attentive partner, it's like he has a 6th sense dedicated only to you. He knows if you need something without even saying it, sometimes he knows it before you do. But after finding out you're pregnant with your first child, his son, he's been extra protective of you.

"And who's fault is it hm?"

"Baby, don't act like I'm the only one at fault here"

"Sure sure" you tease him, he stays there hugging you from behind while you cook eggs. "Okay big boy, think you can handle putting the bread in the toaster?"

He chuckles, letting go of you before getting the bread to do as you said.

"Then set up the table, please. Thank you, love you"

"You're really not letting me cook for you?" You can hear the pout in his voice, just in time you finish cooking. You put it on the plate before facing him, passing it over to him.

"I can do it, don't worry too much. I can still do things you know"

"I know, but still" he says

"Mark baby, trust me you'll be the first one to know if I need help okay? For now, stay out of my kitchen. Nothing good comes out when you go there" you tease him

"The last time we were there, we ended up with kid on the way so I wouldn't say nothing good comes out of it" he counters, a cheeky smile on his face

"Lee Minhyung!" you scold him, hitting him on the shoulder. Mark just laughs as he put food on your plate before his.

"I'll shut up now, now be a good girl and eat. You gotta stay healthy, baby boy's gonna get hungry then you're gonna get hangry"

"I don't get hangry" you tell him defensively, but he might be on the right this time. He raises a brow at you, "You were mad at me yesterday because I ate the last mozzarella stick"

"I was saving it! I was waiting for it the whole day then you ate it, you didn't have to remind me now I want more" you pout, Mark leans close to you. Cupping your cheeks before giving a short but sweet kiss,

"We can get more later, whatever you want name it. I'll get it"

"Be careful with your words, Lee. Your son is craving all sorts of weird foods, you're about to drive miles for it"

"You or him? okay okay him"

[itsbubbleteataro]

Radio and the Reporter

Hello everyone! This is the last of my Radio and the Reporter (for now 0-0) I hope you enjoy! NOT PROOF READ

“So my darling doe, why in the world are you in hell?” Alastor asked, propping his elbows on the table, folding his long spindly fingers folding nicely so he could rest his chin on them. He cocked his head to the side, his smile ever wide and menacing. You snapped your fingers. From the same two ink pots, two little creatures spring from the ink. He watched the creatures, taking in how they never stopped bouncing to imaginary music, even as they poured tea for the two of them. 

  You keep your eyes on the deer man in front of you, “I’ll tell me if you tell me how you ended up down here as well. You’re quite the sweetheart, I'm tickled pink to see you again, but I'm worried.” You watched as he nodded his head. You sat back in your chair, sipping tea from your tea cup. “Alright. I was a reporter when we were alive, writing articles behind my fathers back under the name  ‘Roger’” You studied his expression. No hints of cracking or anything. You sighed, lowering your cup down to the table. “But you already knew that part, I'm guessing you went through my room after I passed?”

“Took me quite a while to do so, around three years give or take” Alastor sat back and crossed one leg over the other, his head tilting a full 90 degrees before straightening back up. “I honestly would not have guessed you were doing so much behind both your father’s and well, everyone’s back my dear. You were quite sneaky. How did you pull that off?” He watches you for a moment more, lingering on your face. 

“Oh that? I wore my brother's old shoes and stuffed them with enough weight to make footprints look natural. I wore his old clothes, did not speak unless I had to. But crossdressing isn't why I ended up in hell” You pull out your hand, counting on your fingers, “Let’s see, there's arson, bribery, extortion, forgery, little bit of fraud, stocking, robbery, oh and more theft” Glancing over to Alastor, watching as his eyes seem to light up with each crime listed.

“So did you ever stalk the Bayou Butcher?”

“Oh that killer? I got close” You chuckle, " but he always got away. Never got a good look, only saw his footprints, a few of his victims, but never him. I was so close to figuring out who he was before I died.” You noticed his smirk draw a little wider, enjoying himself and in turn you raised an eyebrow. “I do think I managed to narrow down what profession he was in, he was in media, just like me”

“Correct! Oh my doe is just the smartest!” He grinned as you watched in curiosity. “Would you like to know the true identity of the Bayou Butcher?”

“Oh would I ever! It's one of my biggest regrets!”

“I’ll do so only if you tell me if you were behind the theater burning down that one July”

“Deal!” You started to lean over the table, face getting closer to Alastor. “Yes I was! I had a lot of dirt on the owner of the place, and offered him a deal for me not to publish it. To prove I was serious I burned the place down!”

“Oh my devious Doe! I would love to hear the full story over tea.” Alastor chuckled and sipped his tea before also leaning closer. “Very well, I was the Bayou Butcher” You gasped as he chuckled once more. “You gave me plenty of scares when I saw just how close you were getting, I mean you had my shoe size correct! Quite amazing work, better than the fuzz who we looking for me, even more so after your death”

“Oh yeah? What happened after I died? When I woke up I was here with you ring around my neck”

“Oh you know my Doe, adding to my numbers. For the first two years I was beside myself with grief, I killed any man who spoke bad about you behind my back in an animalistic manner” His shadow showed itself, looking curious as a kitten at your little ink creatures. Alastors eyes looked lost in thought. “Then after third year I came home from hunting one such man, and figured it was time to finally look through your things. I shed my coat, hat and shoes and washed my hands of the blood before going to your room. I saw the work on your typewriter. I read it, saw in the closet, went through old articles, everything just made sense. I’d be the first to admit that it did convince me to keep my killing the same, and go back to just killing abusers. You crossed one leg over the other in curiosity, tilting your head as he went on. 

“Even then I did end up getting sloppy. I lost my touch without my favorite reporter hot on my heels. One swampy evening I was burying the body on some sap’s property. The fella had dogs, they sniffed me out quickly. The owner mistook me for a deer and well, I’m here now. Rest assured such a careless mistake will not happen again.” 

Alastor studied your face as you digested the information before nodding your head slowly. 

“Now my Doe, I do believe you owe me a story about how you managed to shack up in such an old warehouse with a little stalls dotted over Cannibal town and more”

“Oh those? When I arrived I was bored out of my mind and none of the several acts of violence spoke to me, quite frankly seemed uncouth. However I did notice a distinct lack of newspapers all over, so I figured that I have experience in being a newshawk, so may as well put those skills to use. I opened a small paper company with Rosies help. I made deals when I could in exchange for not placing all the little secrets on the front page, just as I did while I was alive, and look at me now! I run a well oiled machine!” You beamed with pride. A long toothy grin met yours. 

“Say my Doe. I can think of something that would aid us both. We did have our run of our respective media forms, so why not join them in a twisted way?”

“I’m listing Al” You waved your hands, your little ink monsters jumped back into the pots of ink to give you both some quiet. The presses slowed to a halt, leaving silence. 

“Well, you are awfully good at finding out information, and I wish to punish those who are not moral as well as start up a new radio show of sorts. If we were to work together you my dear could get your paper more out to the masses and have more information at your fingertips” “Information that you want?” You pause to think. “Sure. I accept. We are not shaking or forming a contract however.”

“My doe I would never ask that of you, it seems to harsh even for me”

Smiling, you slip your ring onto your finger as did he. Reunited in hell the two of you went on to form one of the best media parings. That is, till he disappeared for seven years. 

[nekomimithoughts]

Thinking of my owners finding me in heat. I'm rubbing up on them all needy, needing to be touched, asking for pets, asking for more without knowing for what.

But they know. They know what a nekomimi in heat needs. So they lay a new blanket out on the big bed in their bedroom and motion me to come over. I hop on and roll around, more comfortable but still antsy. Need. Need. Mommy undresses and pets me while her husband leaves to get something. "Poor kitty, you're way too warm in those clothes aren't you?"

Her fingers slip between my legs, rubbing gently. "This is where you want to be touched, isn't it?" I mewl and sigh at the touch. Feels relieving, but also makes me more needy. "Aww, you're so wet." Her fingers slip deeper. "But so tight still. Mmh. We will have to open you up, don't we?" Her fingers feel so good inside me. Can't help but bear down on them. She moans. "Oof, daddy is not gonna fit in there yet".

"I will soon enough" I hear my owner's deep voice from above me, and shudder. He's brought a dildo and lube. "Turn over and present for us, kitten. Mommy and daddy will take care of you."

[irenethewoman]

Mrs. Shelby - Chapter 8 - Leverage

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@ell0ra-br3kk3r

In September 1919, Birmingham, Ada eloped with Sean while nobody was home, wearing her wedding dress.

I received this news from the owner of the flower shop. Everyone in Birmingham knew I was from the Shelby family, but they also felt that I didn't fit in with the Shelby family - because of my Chelsea accent, because I didn't like conflicts, and because I always paid my dues. They were my informants, and they would tell me things they wouldn't dare say to other Shelbys when I "casually" chatted with them.

What did Ada see in Sean? She's now like a troublesome rebellious teenager, ignorant of the hardships of life, just enjoying defying authority, and willing to give up everything for her so-called love. But what about her lover? He can't even take care of himself, let alone her and their child. What about their future? Love? Where is a future without bread?

I tried to restrain my scowl and bid farewell to the flower shop owner.

I walked impatiently through the streets, trying to find any trace Ada might have left behind.

But I stumbled upon someone unexpected, Grace, the bartender at Garrison's.

She should have stayed at the bar…

I saw her tracking a man, so I changed my target and followed her cautiously.

Bright golden hair, a striking red jacket. I don't know where the police found this spy, and they didn't even bother with a disguise.

I muttered to myself, pushing down my black-brimmed hat.

This is… Small Heath, where the Irish Republican Army hides. I hesitated whether to continue. Even their leader knows me and knows I'm from the Shelby family. But it's best not to stir up any more trouble here, for now. We don't want to fall out with the IRA just yet.

But thankfully, the man disappeared in front of a shabby house. Then the female spy approached without any suspicion…

I hid behind the rubble and watched them tussle. MI6 is done for, that was my first thought. A gunshot brought me back to reality. The blonde woman had killed the man she was tracking. It was almost comical how shaky she was. She couldn't even hold the gun properly, and she wanted to be a spy?

But this was good leverage. After all, the Cheltenham races were coming up soon.

I smirked, clapped my hands, and stepped out from my hiding place.

"Look, there's a frightened little kitten here."

Grace pointed her gun at me in panic. "Who are you?"

"Why did you kill him?" I wasn't going to take off my hat here and let the Small Heath people see my face. I pretended to raise my hands and walked towards the corpse, examining the wound. It was an accidental discharge; you could tell. Her nerves were shot, and she wanted to be a spy?

"But this is a good leverage." After all, the Cheltenham races were coming up soon.

She hesitated. I pressed on.

"This is Fenian territory. They don't even like the police meddling here. Where did you come from? You know they prefer to deal with murderers themselves. What are you doing here with a gun? Waiting for them to trace the bullets on the body back to you?"

"I'm different. I'm a Shelby."

She compromised, and we walked to a quiet corner. She handed me the gun, and I handed her my hat. Then I watched her take off her coat and put on my hat. I gave her the directions and left.

I shook my black hair and looked down at the pocket watch that had fallen from her. Inside was her photo.

"What a fool." She had blonde hair, and I had black hair. Even if we wore the same hat, it wouldn't hide that. When she had completely disappeared from my sight, I stuck my head out to make sure no one was around, then calmly walked out, using her coat and pocket watch to soak up the blood from the body.

I pretended to have just discovered the body, pinched my thigh hard enough to make myself cry, and shouted, "Dead body!"

"A blonde woman… she killed someone… I was just looking for my sister and happened to hear gunshots… she pushed me down and threatened me with a gun, took my hat, and ran away."

I trembled, and someone helped me up from the ground. Most of the people here knew me, even the Irish Republicans. "She's a Shelby."

Perfect, that's what I needed. Let them recognize me so that I can distance Garrison's from the Shelbys.

The people here gave me a glass of whiskey, asked a few questions, and then let me go.

Acting is exhausting.

I walked through the eyes of the Fenian Club members.

When I returned to the betting office, Tommy told me about Ada.

I poured myself a drink and listened quietly.

I really didn't want to get involved. I was afraid I would shoot Ada's bastard of a husband in anger and then have to tie her back.

After he finished, I poured Tommy a drink and then took his cigarette and extinguished it.

"You have blood on you," he said, pointing to my skirt.

"Yeah." I smirked and proudly showed him my trophies - a ladies' pistol and a bloody pocket watch.

"Our barmaid, you know, I've never liked her, but she's a dangerous one, Tommy. She killed a man in Small Heath. It's all hers."

"They're Campbell's people." Tommy looked at the things on the table thoughtfully.

I nodded and sat at the edge of the table, playing with his tie. "I think so. Remember the police robbery last month? It didn't go to Garrison's. I suspect Campbell ordered it for her."

"Cheltenham races must be careful of her," I warned him. "She accidentally fired today, don't push her too hard. I'm afraid she'll cause trouble."

"When necessary, use the charm offensive…" I muttered quietly. It was frustrating, Miss Turner, to approve of your young prince selling his charms.

He heard my last words and laughed.

"Today Billy Kimber told me to bring the barmaid. He praised her beauty. And now I'm just glad I didn't let Billy Kimber see you."

"You should change your name, goddess of hunting." Tommy held me and kissed me. "My Athena."

It seemed he wasn't satisfied from last night.

"At least not here, please, Tommy… I'm afraid I'll have a phobia about this table." I held my face in my hands. "There are still people outside…"

Protests were in vain, but now there was an extra coat between me and the table.

Tommy bought Garrison's from Arthur.

"Arthur isn't the only one who's depressed," I kissed Tommy's face, "my little prince has that right too."

He just looked at me without saying a word.

I meant it. I didn't want him to be so tired, to keep everything to himself, to treat everything as his responsibility. I wanted him to talk to me about his troubles, his anger, not just the business problems I happened to encounter. I was willing to help him, to be with him forever.

Danny, the high-velocity shell, knocked on the door while I was still sleeping next to Tommy.

"Gosh…" I rubbed my eyes. Tommy signaled that I didn't need to get up

, and he opened the door and went downstairs with Danny.

I just stared at the ceiling.

Every time it was like this, as long as I slept next to Tommy and he woke me up, I couldn't sleep anymore.

But he came back soon.

I asked him what happened, but he didn't answer, just held me. So we sat there in silence until I thought he had fallen asleep. Then he spoke.

"I think I should thank Finn properly for bringing you to me."

Looking at those loving blue eyes, I was puzzled. "What?"

"The Irish initially suspected that the Peaky Blinders had killed him, but because of your intervention, they are convinced it's a police spy." He kissed me. "Danny told me that the Irish are angry, believing that the government they were negotiating peace with is a bunch of liars. And they are willing to pay a high price to anyone for the missing weapons. They'll come to Birmingham after I return from the races."

"That's good news." Even though I had anticipated all this, I was still happy to see Tommy's smile, which I hadn't seen for a long time.

"There's another piece of news, Dani." Thomas held my face and looked into my eyes. "Your grandfather is looking for you."

"Looking for me? Is the sun going to rise from the west tomorrow morning?" I scoffed.

My grandfather was good to me before. But that was when my father, Lord Charles Turner, was still alive. When the Turner family's affairs became known to the whole of London, he didn't lend a hand when my uncle, who had barely escaped, begged him for help. Instead, he had me, who had barely escaped, sent back to 10 King's Road, London.

I was still lying next to Tommy, and he was holding me, but we both spent a sleepless night.

I slept through until Thomas came back from the races.

"How did it go?" Long hours of sleep made me feel dizzy, lying on the bed and not wanting to move, just lifting my head to ask him.

"She bit Kimber." Thomas sat beside me, playing with my hair. "Before her gun went off, I took her away."

"How did you manage that?"

"The Irish should understand Kimber's position. She's a police officer." Thomas stroked my back. "He didn't want to go against the police, so he handed her over to me, giving me a certificate to legally manipulate the races."

"It's okay. One step at a time."

Our goal, of course, is more than that. Kimber's legal certificate? If that's all we need, we should have wagged our tails like puppies a long time ago, and Tommy wouldn't have let Arthur beat the Li family members to a pulp.

We don't seek peace or surrender; we only seek cooperation.

Since one mountain cannot accommodate two tigers.

Then we'll replace Billy Kimber.

[cherryeol04]

In Darkness (M)

➻ Pairings: Minsung x Jisung

➻ Genre: paranormal au, horror au, psychic bond au

➻ Additional: humor, lust at first sight

➻ Word Count: 3.7K

➻ Warnings: N/A

➻ Author’s notes: This story is cross posted on multiple sites under the same username!

"This is going to be so easy." Jisung grinned as he reread the email for what felt like the millionth time. It was a simple request from a corner shop owner needing Jisung's help to figure out why “unexplainable” things were happening. Jisung was sure it was probably just another prankster ghost that didn't want to move on for one reason or another and a simple talking from Minho would get them to move towards the light. They had done it a dozen times.

Or maybe this time it would be a hoax - a rare situation but one that Jisung thoroughly enjoyed exploiting. It was fun watching the hoaxers trying to keep up with the lie when Jisung had an actual ghost with him that could cause so much more chaos than any human.

Speaking of Minho...

"What do you think?" he asked as he turned around, eyes meeting nothing. Yet the air around him crackled with electrical static that assured him Minho was there. Or at least listening. "Minho?"

"I think fame is getting to your head. No case should be easy, Sungie."

The words echoed through his ears as if spoken aloud, but Jisung had long since realized that Minho was only speaking in his mind. A neat "ghostie power" that Jisung loved, though it had brought up concerns that Minho could read his mind. 

He couldn't, thankfully.

"What do you mean? All our cases have been easy. A poltergeist that needed to be cleansed. A weeping mother reunited with her dead child. A young woman's bones finally found and laid to rest. Cut and dry cases, my man." The earring dangling from his left ear twirled and swung at Minho's obvious displeasure.

"I am not "your man"."

"You're right. You're my kitten." The static around him faded and Jisung could just picture Minho standing there flustered beyond belief, his ears a pale shade of red. Jisung never would have guessed that ghosts could blush, but ever since discovering Minho, he was learning a lot about the paranormal that he never knew before. "Your silence says it all, my cute little kitten." He cooed.

"Jisung!" Jisung winced at the sudden hiss, recoiling violently because fuck if that wasn't right in his ear brain. "Shut up and we're not doing this case. We need to stop."

"Why?" Jisung asked, confused. "I just said he was going to be an easy case. We go in, you do your ghostie thing, I tell the person the deed is done and we're out of there."

"Mmm." Jisung didn't like that noise. It never bolded well for him. "Yes, that's how it'll go. I'll do all the hard work and you'll take all the credit."

"Well duh, it's not like I can just say 'hey my ghost friend is gonna speak to the other ghost and get rid of it'. They would lock me up so fast." Jisung frowned as a thought ran through his mind. "I'm not crazy anymore," he muttered.

"You could be a little more appreciative of what I do, instead of jumping onto the next case."

"I tell you "good job" all the time!"

The air around him suddenly turned stale and Jisung realized that perhaps that wasn't the right thing to say. Sighing softly, he turned back in his chair and leaned back into it. "Min, come on. I'm sorry." He quickly apologized, swallowing thickly at how dry his mouth felt. "Babe, please? Let's just do this one more case."

"Do it yourself."

The finality in the tone that rang in his ears was chest clenching. Jisung hadn't meant to piss off Minho, but surely the other knew how much Jisung appreciated him. He really couldn't do this ghost-solving all on his own. 

Or could he? 

It shouldn't be that hard. Sure he wouldn't have an actual spirit to tell him what was going on, but Jisung had done enough cases to know the basics of it. It shouldn't be that hard then. Grinning, Jisung sat forward and hit reply on the email, typing a quick message agreeing to come out to the shop and do an initial consultation and walkthrough.

He's got this.

----

Jisung winced as more fireworks went off above him. He completely forgot that Saturday was the Cherry Blossom Festival. If he had remembered, he certainly wouldn't have scheduled the walkthrough that night. At least the roads and sidewalks were practically empty, the majority of the city folk were at the national park to celebrate. The walk from his apartment to his destination was made in silence, his earring dangling lifelessly. Minho had been giving him the cold shoulder for a few days now and Jisung was really starting to miss the spirit. It was like a part of his soul was missing, even if they were still connected through the earring.

"I can do this. I'll show him. I'll solve this case all on my own." It was a useless pep talk, but somehow seemed to encourage Jisung regardless. Checking the map on his phone, Jisung stopped in his tracks and looked to his right. There stood a moderately sized building with a neon sign reading "Red Lights Toy Shop." The windows were tinted, so Jisung couldn't see what was inside, but just from the outer context clues, he was pretty positive that this wasn't a kid's toy store. With a deep breath, Jisung walked up to the door and opened it. He was greeted with bright lights and shelves of vibrant adult toys.

"Just my luck," he muttered as he stepped inside and looked around. Right off the bat, he could see rows of dildos and vibrators, a few shelves of lube, and a couple of glass cases that held some sort of weird medical devices, or so he assumed. Jisung wasn't too versed in all the types of sex toys in the world. He was only familiar with the basics and the sizes they can range in.

"Hello?" Jisung's voice seemed to echo in a way that wasn't possible, but perhaps that was just his own mind playing tricks on him, making him believe the place was just as empty as how his head and heart felt without Minho being around. Or maybe that was just philosophical bullshit and the acoustics in the shop were just shit. "Anyone here?" Jisung trekked deeper into the store carefully, eyes drawn to the multitude of pretty colors on display, one in particular catching his eye. It was a ghastly pale dildo, unnatural in both length and girth. The name on the box read "Ghost Rider" and just under it was a small sticker exclaiming that the toy glowed in the dark.

There was an obvious reason Jisung was drawn to it, mind wandering right back to his ghostly partner. Reaching up, he touched his earring gently, a small crackling sizzle sounding as an electric current coursed through his fingers causing them to tingle. It was a small sign from Minho that he was there and the weight that Jisung didn't even know he was carrying was lifted. Relaxing slightly, Jisung grabbed the box off the shelf and turned it over, reading over the item description and functions.

"That's one of our most popular items."

Jisung let out a terrified and high-pitched scream, dropping the box in his hands as he whipped around quickly, eyes landing on the man standing behind him. A tall, blond and handsome man that hadn't been there fifteen seconds ago.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He sounded concerned, but the bemused smirk gracing his plump lips said otherwise.

"F-Fine." Jisung squeaked out, heart hammering in his chest. He took a deep breath and swallowed, trying to will his fear away. "Warn a guy next time."

"Sorry, thought you heard me." Mr. Handsome shrugged. If it wasn't illegal for someone to be so breathtakingly gorgeous, it should be. And Jisung just may start that petition. But at a different time, he needed to focus on the job at hand.

"It's fine." He cleared his throat and dusted off the front of his white shirt. "I'm looking for Mr. Hwang."

"That would be me." Mr. Handsome Hwang flashed a charming smile.

'Don't swoon. Do not swoon.' Jisung chanted over and over. "Nice to meet you, I'm Jisung."

"Ah!" Recognition flickered across Mr. Handsome Hwang's face. "Mr. Han! Thank you so much for coming. Please, call me Hyunjin." Hyunjin grabbed Jisung's hand and shook it enthusiastically to the point that the rest of Jisung's body was shaking with it.

"Pleasure's all mine." Jisung carefully extracted his hand from the other's grip, shaking some feeling back into it before letting it fall. "So, would you like to give me a little bit more backstory?" he asked.

“Of course, of course.” Hyunjin ran his fingers through his hair, simultaneously looking so innocent and hot. The man should honestly be a model. Why was he running an adult shop anyway? “Let’s go to the back room.” The shiver Jisung experienced was completely involuntary, or at least that’s what he told himself as he nodded and followed Hyunjin to the back room. 

The moment he entered the room, another shiver ran through Jisung, and not a good one. It was so cold, unnaturally so. Though Hyunjin just waltzed in seemingly unaffected. Maybe this was the normal temperature of the room? “Have a seat.” Hyunjin motioned to the empty computer chair. Jisung hesitated for a moment before walking over to it and taking a seat. “So, where should I start?”

“From the beginning.” Jisung grinned. “When did you first notice things happening?”

Hyunjin hummed as he moved to lean against the edge of the desk, facing Jisung. “About six months ago.” His expression was pensive. “I bought this place second hand and at first everything was fine. I had it remodeled for a better layout for the toys and I’ve seen enough ghost shows to know that activity starts when remodeling happens.” He snorted. “So imagine my surprise when remodeling finished and it took another three months before anything even happened!” The longer he talked the more animated Hyunjin became, arms flailing and Jisung was a little scared he would get hit. 

He did want to interrupt him, however, letting him know that not all activity starts when the resting place of a spirit is disturbed. It could take any amount of time. But Jisung felt like if he did interrupt Hyunjin, he would somehow be on the receiving end of an accidental blow from excitement. So he thought it better to just stay quiet for now. 

“But once it got started, it really took off.”

“What exactly has been happening?”

Hyunjin paused, staring long and hard at Jisung, unnerving him. It almost felt like Hyunjin had just ‘shut down’ in a way. Like he was a robot. After a few long, suffering moments of silence, Hyunjin blinked and nodded his head slowly. “So at first it was just items being moved to different locations. Like instead of a bottle of lube being on its shelf, it was actually at the checkout counter.” he explained. Jisung reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening his note app and jotting down the activity.

“I just thought maybe I forgot where I put something.” Hyunjin shrugged. “Then it increased to the alarms going off at night. The motion sensors would be triggered and I would get calls from the alarm company and police and after reviewing the security cameras, there was nothing suggesting someone tried to break in.”

“No blind spots?” Jisung instantly asked, brow arching though he never looked away from his phone.

“None.”

“How often did the alarm go off?”

“At first it was only once every few weeks, but recently it became a daily occurrence to where I had to get rid of the alarm system altogether.” Hyunjin sighed heavily, shifting his position to lean the majority of his weight on the arm propped up on the desk.

“That sucks.” Jisung frowned and looked up at Hyunjin. “Anything else?” It really seemed like a simple case of a trickster ghost. One that just enjoyed playing pranks on the mortals and probably would easily move on if cleansed. Of course, cleansing was something that Jisung hated the most because it was difficult for him to get the ritual right. It was always easier to just have Minho convince the ghost to move on, but Jisung didn’t have Minho for this case. 

“Well, yes.” Hyunjin whispered and the hesitation in his voice had Jisung perking up with curiosity. “More recently the activity has grown…physical.”

“Physical.” Jisung repeated, swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. “H-how so?”

“Employees would get pushed or scratched. It’s cliche I know.” Hyunjin shook his head. “And at first I thought they were just joking. It’s a running joke at the store that it’s haunted. But then one day I came in early to help with a shipment we just received and in the middle of taking inventory, I watched as my employee was shoved to the ground.”

“Shoved? Like, shoved?” Jisung asked stupidly, demonstrating with his hands a pushing motion.

“Yes. They were standing there and I could see their shoulders suddenly lurch forward and down they went.” Jisung nodded, making more notes. “They said they were pushed and their back was on fire. I was worried they had hurt themselves when they landed, so I went to look and there were four large scratches running from the top of their right shoulder, all the way down to the left side of their waist.”

That was just great. Scratches. That was more than just a ghost. Not that a ghost couldn’t be mean and physical. It wasn’t uncommon for intelligent hauntings to have some sort of physical activity but the scratches felt so malicious. But Jisung didn’t want to just jump to the conclusion so fast that it was a demon or something. If it was, then that meant this wasn’t an easy case and couldn’t be solved. Jisung had no experience with demons and had no religious affiliation. 

Taking a few calming breaths, Jisung locked his phone and stood from the chair. “That’s quite a long list of activities and since it’s physical it’s really important that I start now to figure out what is really going on here and how to cease the activity.”

“Do you really think you can do that?” Hyunjin asked, eyes shining with skepticism that Jisung didn’t take kindly to. The other was the one who reached out to him in the first place. Why would he be skeptical that Jisung could help?

“Of course! I’m sure you’ve read on my website, the extensive experience I have and the many people I’ve helped. I’m confident I can help you too.” Hyunjin smiled and Jisung’s heart fluttered. God he really was a beautiful man, and so tempting. So so tempting.

“Alright, if you think so, then I’ll believe it too.” 

“Great, so then if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just wander around a bit and get a reading of the store.”

“Sure, just be careful though. I’ll be back here if you need me.” Hyunjin moved and took a seat at the computer chair, waving to Jisung as the younger man left the room and headed back into the store front. 

For a split second, the air sizzled and moved before dying down. Jisung looked around carefully, searching, but saw nothing. Reaching up, he touched his earring, but unlike earlier, he was greeted with stillness. He had hoped that the sudden current had meant Minho manifested and was ready to work with him. He was wrong. Minho was still avoiding him.

“Fine, I’ll do this myself.” he muttered lowly, flicking the earring in spite. It was stupid to fight about this, and Jisung knew it. But his pride wouldn’t let him apologize properly to Minho. The other really was just trying to look out for him, for them. Jisung wasn’t a greedy person, really he wasn’t. He hardly charged enough for the trouble they went through when confronting ghosts to get rid of. It wasn’t about the money. It was about helping others rid themselves of their paranormal nuisance. 

No. That wasn’t right.

It was about helping the dead finally move on. To break their earthly ties so they could finally find peace. It’s what they all deserved. 

It’s what Minho deserved.

Walking back into the store front, Jisung scanned the open area. It was the typical boxy layout, shelves lining the walls with a few free-standing cases in the middle of the room. There wasn’t a lot of product, but it was certainly enough variety to keep people coming back for years (or days depending on how quickly they went through toys). Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and while the place had a ‘creepy’ vibe, there was nothing that screamed “ghost!” Jisung sighed, shaking his head. This was usually the point in the investigation where Minho would walk around and tell him what entities were residing in the place, what their motives were and the best way of getting rid of them. This was definitely going to be harder than he thought. 

“Okay, so if you were Minho…” Jisung trailed off as he wandered to one of the shelves in the middle of the room, taking in the various types of lube displayed. Flavored, silicon based, water based, even anal specific. It still amazed Jisung of the variety that exsisted. He always thought there was just one type of lube, but that’s what he got for shopping for lube at the local grocery store. As he was staring at the product, a chill ran down his spine - so freezing cold that his teeth chattered.

Turning quickly, he had expected to see Minho hovering behind him, but there was no one. From the corner of his eye, Jisung thought he saw something move, however, when he looked over, there was nothing there. Another chill ran through him, though it was less cold this time and more paralyzing. As if he were a deer caught in headlights, pinned down under an unseen stare. No matter what he tried to do, Jisung just couldn’t get his body to move, eyes locked on the corner of the room where he had thought he had seen movement. 

Fear gripped his heart as he watched shadows crawl up the wall. A swirling mass of inky blackness that coiled and morphed into a figure. At first glance it looked like a solid mass, but the longer Jisung stood there, the more he could see that it wasn’t solid. The shadows were still swirling, twirling about in a mesmerizing rhythm. He felt like he was falling into a trance, the fear that once gripped him slowly melting away. Jisung knew this was bad, and that he shouldn’t be giving in. He should be fighting, but the shadows were calling to him, beckoning him to join them.

He took a step forward and the shadow creature growled, low and guttreal. The hairs on the back of Jisung’s neck stood on end at the sound. Another step and another growl followed, this time even deeper than the last - something Jisung didn’t think was possible. He could feel the rumble of it in his chest. A third step and Jisung knew this was it. Silence suddenly fell over him and not just the typical silence any person could find themselves in - this silence was devoid of any white noise. The absence of sound unnerved Jisung. He felt like he was in a void and maybe he was. This creature - entity - had sucked all the life out of the surrounding area, leaving him in an empty abyss. While he could still see the store, it was like he wasn’t physically there. 

The entity growled again and against his own will his body took a fourth step. That was his undoing. The entity lurched forward and in a split second it closed the distance between them. A searing pain knocked the wind right out of him and Jisung was all too aware of the large fist now embedded in his chest- right over his heart - the pain radiating from it. Weakly, Jisung reached out and wrapped his fingers around the shadowy wrist. To his surprise, they didn’t phase through. 

“F-fuck off.” he struggled to get out and while there were no noticeable facial features, Jisung could feel the anger radiating from the entity. The hand tightened and Jisung cried out in pain - his heart stuttering and struggling to continue pumping. His vision blurred, the edges growing black. The only thought running through his mind was that this was the end, this was how he was going to die. He really should have listened to Minho. God, he was such a fool!

“Jisung!” 

As the world faded to black, Jisung felt the pain in his chest disappear.

----

Jisung groaned as he slowly opened his eyes, pleasantly surprised to find himself in a dark room. Yet the cold water of reality washed over him as the previous events came rushing back. Jolting up, he looked around frantically, searching for the entity that had tried to kill him. He realized, probably a little too late, that he was laying in his bed, in his room. How he got there, he had no idea, but at least he was safe. 

“Fuck.” he whispered, reaching up to rub his chest lightly. It was still sore, a faint ache throbbing as a reminder of how close to death he had been. The thought frightened him, but what terrified him the most was that Minho had been right. They shouldn’t have taken the job and it wasn’t as easy as Minho made it seem. Jisung had been so stupid to think he could do it on his own, and he nearly paid the price for it. 

…

But he didn’t? He wasn’t dead. Why wasn’t he? The entity had literally been squeezing the life out of him, but he had somehow survived? It wasn’t adding up. Closing his eyes, Jisung thought back, shuffling through the fury of memories and emotions in hopes of figuring out what happened.

“Jisung!”

The scream echoed in his mind, Jisung’s eyes shooting open. “Minho.” he whispered.

“Finally awake?” Jisung screamed at the sudden voice sounding next to him. His head whipped around, eyes narrowing as they landed on Minho’s face, mirth dancing in his eyes. 

“Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me!” He gasped out, wincing as he clutched at his chest, a sharp pain shooting through it before dulling.

“Jisung.” Minho whispered, the bed dipping around Jisung’s body as the other climbed on. Minho reached out and swatted Jisung’s hand away, replacing it with his own. Warmth spread gathered under the touch, slowly spreading outwards, Minho’s hand glowing in the process. It eased what dull ache was left and Jisung had to wonder if this was just a ghostly power or if Minho had been a healer in his past life. Silence fell over them, the light slowly dying, the warmth waning. “I’m sorry.” he whispered softly. 

The apology caught Jisung by surprise. Mainly because he thought he should be the one apologizing. He was the one that had been stupid and got himself nearly killed. Reaching up, Jisung rested his hand over Minho’s for a moment before pulling it away so he could lace their fingers together. “Don’t be sorry.” he whispered, lifting his gaze to meet Minho’s. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I-I should have listened to you. I was stupid and thought I could do everything-” The snort Minho let out had him pausing. 

“Yeah, you were stupid.” Minho scoffed before sighing. He moved himself into Jisung’s lap, sitting down carefully on him. “But I’m still sorry. I should have-” he stopped and Jisung could see him struggling with the words he wanted to say next and Jisung was pretty certain he could see some wetness welling up around the rim of his eyes.

“I should have stopped you the moment you walked into that place. Should have told you to just leave.” Minho lowered his head, brows furrowed. The temperature in the room started dropping and Jisung flashed back to that entity. But unlike that creature, this temperature drop was all Minho’s doing and that was the only reason Jisung freak out. He watched as ice and frost slowly began creeping along the walls. “But I didn’t because I was still mad and you nearly di-” Minho’s voice cracked, and with it the ice on the walls as well. “I should have done something sooner!” Minho forced out as he tried to swallow his sobs. Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho’s shoulders and pulled the other against him. Minho latched on easily, burying his face in Jisung’s neck. 

Jisung’s chest ached for a different reason this time around. It wasn’t often he saw Minho upset and emotional. The ghost was usually very calm and collected or spent most of his time invisible to Jisung, the only giveaway of his presence being the static emitted from the earring Jisung wore. In the time he had been with Minho, Jisung couldn’t recall a single time the other had cried. This was a whole new territory for them, but Jisung wanted nothing more than to comfort the other. “It’s okay Min.” he muttered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. “I’m fine.” 

“Only because I intervened.” Minho sobbed, fingers curling into the material of Jisung’s shirt. “If I hadn’t … If I had been one second too late,” Jisung hugged Minho tighter as his sobs grew in intensity. He didn’t need the other to finish the sentence to know where he was heading. Jisung was thankful Minho intervened when he did, grateful to be alive and able to hold the other like this. “I’m so sorry.”

“Min.” Jisung frowned and tried to pull the other away from him. Minho fought, struggling to stay cuddled against Jisung’s chest, but he gave up after a few seconds. “Baby,” Jisung started as he slid his fingers under Minho’s chin and lifted his head. Minho’s cheeks were ruddy and tear stained, eyes red and swollen, and yet he still looked absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m the one that’s sorry. I shouldn’t have upset you and I shouldn’t have let our argument carry on for so long. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.” 

“Yes it is.”

“Don’t argue with me, Han Jisung.” Minho snapped. Jisung stilled, staring at Minho cautiously. “I’m the one in the wrong.” The finality in his voice gave Jisung the urge to disobey, but he held back - this time.

“Okay fine.”  Leaning in, Jisung brushed their lips together in a ghost of a kiss. “Thank you for saving me.” 

Minho snorted and rolled his eyes, looking away. “It’s not like I was just going to let you die,” he muttered. No, Minho wouldn’t let him die. There were various reasons for that, Jisung was sure, but the main reason was that Minho loved him, at least he hoped it was. Because Jisung was absolutely head over heels for the ghost. It hadn’t been something he wanted to happen, it just did.

“Thank you, Minho.” he whispered. Leaning in, Jisung kissed him softly, a hand cupping Minho’s face gently. He could feel Minho melting into him, body leaning heavily against him. On any other occasion, Jisung would be able to support the added weight, but given the circumstances it came as no surprise that he fell backwards on the bed, Minho following. His hands rested on Minho’s waist as the older male settled over him. 

Pulling back from the kiss, Minho sighed, resting his forehead against Jisung’s. Jisung took the time to look him over, the way his brows were still creased together. He could tell that Minho was still blaming himself, even though Jisung never thought it was his fault. He wasn’t entirely sure how to get that through Minho’s head though. He did notice that the temperature in the room was slowly rising once more, an indication that Minho was calming down. That was good. Jisung didn’t want a repeat of the last time Minho was angry and he broke every mirror in the house. 

“Ji-” Jisung cut Minho off with another kiss, not really wanting to hear what the other had to say. If he had to guess, it was going to be another apology and those were just getting boring now. He had already forgiven Minho, even though there wasn’t anything to forgive. But they were both stubborn and getting Minho to understand it wasn’t his fault was like talking to a brick wall. Breaking the kiss, Minho huffed, sitting up fully as he stared down at Jisung, eyes lidded with an almost unreadable expression. “I love you.” 

The words echoed in Jisung’s mind, sending a shockwave through his system. Not because Minho confessed his love, but because he had never heard Minho speak in his head while staring directly at him. Another ghostly ability that Jisung hadn’t been aware of. Everyday he discovered something new about his lover. “I love you too.” He replied easily, smiling at him. Minho gasped softly, face softening, allowing himself the tiniest of smiles that would have easily been missed if Jisung didn’t know what he was looking for. His hands left their perch on Minho’s hips, slipping under his shirt and dragging slowly up his sides, pulling his shirt up in the process until it suddenly disappeared, along with the rest of their clothes. 

Sometimes Jisung wondered if there were any limitations with being a ghost, because it just seemed like Minho was able to do magic. But there was a limitation to all the ghostly powers. Minho could only do things for so long before he needed ‘recharge’, which usually meant he returned to the astral plane and communication could only be made through his grounded object - talking in Jisung’s mind. It wasn’t a horrible trade off, considering Minho made it hassle free to have sex. 

“Min, you know we don’t have to do this. I kinda almost died earlier and-” 

“I need to.” Minho whispered, his voice cracking once more. “Need to know you’re still here.” He swallowed thickly, voice shaking. “Need to know you’re still alive. Please?” Jisung honestly couldn’t say no to him. Not when he sounded like that - not after everything they’ve been through. And truth be told, Jisung really wanted it too. He just wasn’t sure he had the stamina to please Minho at the moment. 

He nodded. “Of course, baby.”

Minho grinned, rocking back against Jisung, pulling a strangled moan from him. “Just lay back and let me handle everything.” Jisung was more than okay with that. He could handle Minho taking control and doing everything right now. Minho rocked his hips again, Jisung’s cock nestled snugly between his cheeks. Occasionally the head of his cock would catch on Minho’s rim, pulling shuddering breaths from both of them. “Fuck.”

“Please Min.” Jisung whimpered, hips lifting slightly. Minho’s eyes narrowed and he raised up onto his knees. The sudden lack of warmth against his cock had Jisung whining, a pitiful pout on his lips, though Minho didn’t appear to be swayed by it. Jisung jerked at the cold touch to his legs, eyes widening as he looked down but saw nothing. It slowly climbed up his thighs, to his hips with a great force, pinned them back down on the mattress. “Babe.” he gasped out, trying to lift his hips, but they wouldn’t budge.

“I told you to let me handle everything.” Minho replied sweetly, running his fingers through Jisung’s hair a few times. “Are you going to be good and listen?” The sickening sweet condensing tone in his voice had Jisung shuddering, head nodding rapidly, eager to please the other. “Words.”

“Yes.” Jisung exhaled.

“That’s my good boy.” Cooing, Minho slowly lowered himself back down, hips rocking against Jisung’s achingly hard cock. And despite just promising to be good, Jisung tried to gain more friction only to find his hips still pinned down by the ghostly force. 

“Aw baby.” Minho tsked, shaking his head. “You promised you would be good for me.” The disappointment was evident and Jisung wanted so much to make back his actions. But he couldn’t help it, Minho just felt so good against him and he wanted so desperately to be buried inside the other. “I guess you don’t really want this.”

“I do!” Jisung shouted, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as Minho raised a brow. “I’m sorry for being bad. But it just felt so good. Please, I need you Minho.” Jisung wasn’t above begging, that was for sure. But he doubted he needed to do any real begging to get Minho to actually move this along. Minho hummed in thought, and for a split second Jisung thought he might actually deny him. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” It wasn’t an outright no, which Jisung was thankful for. He watched with bated breath as Minho lifted himself just enough to grip Jisung’s cock and position it at his hole, a wanton moan falling from the other’s lips at the touch. It still amazed him at how much and how quickly Minho could turn him on - leaving him a leaking and aching mess. Minho waited for what felt like an eternity, and when Jisung finally looked up at him, he smirked - sinking down down on him, his hole stretching easily around the other and engulfing him in one go.

“Oh fuck.” Jisung gasped out in pleasure. Minho seated himself fully on Jisung, Jisung’s hands shooting out to greedily grab and palm over any bare flesh within his reach. His fingers sunk into the soft, supple flesh of Minho’s ass, squeezing a few times. “You feel so good baby. So perfect around me.” he babbled. Minho groaned softly, swirling his hips slowly and pulling another moan from the male beneath him. “Please baby, please.” Jisung whispered, biting his bottom lip in an effort to keep himself still. He wanted so much to just start thrusting into Minho. But he promised to be good and besides, his hips were still being pinned. “Don’t tease me.”

Grinning down at Jisung, Minho lifted himself before sinking back down - a shuddering breath escaping him. The drag of his cock against Minho’s walls felt incredible, his length twitching and pulsing almost uncontrollably. Jisung knew he was probably leaking copious amounts of precum, not that Minho needed the extra glide. Minho repeated his actions again, going incredibly slow and driving Jisung slowly crazy. His hands squeezed Minho’s ass again, following Minho’s movements. He thought about guiding the other to make him go faster, but Jisung was afraid it would have the opposite effect and Minho would stop completely and now that they started, Jisung wasn’t sure he would be able to survive if Minho suddenly stopped moving.

Leaning down, Minho brushed their lips together in a tease of a kiss, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched Jisung’s face. His eyes were so dark and intense and Jisung found himself suffocating from the stare. Minho was gorgeous, but up close like this he was breathtaking. “You’re doing so good.” Minho cooed, grinning as Jisung preened at the praise. Sitting back up, Minho braced himself on Jisung’s chest, hands careful to not press directly over his heart. “Remember, don’t move.” 

The reminder fell on deaf ears, Jisung barely able to process the command before Minho was impaling himself on his cock, over and over again at such a rapid pace it left Jisung dizzy. His lips parted, desperate cries leaving him - body pulled taught as he fought to keep himself still. It was a difficult challenge with the way Minho was riding him like his life depended on it; or more appropriately, his afterlife. “So good Ji.” Minho moaned out. “Filling me so good.” 

“Ah, fuck!” Jisung gasped out, his hands shifting from Minho’s ass to his hips, gripping it tightly - nails biting into skin. He tried, he really really tried but Jisung just couldn’t keep still any longer as more beautifully filthy words fell from Minho’s lips. Arms flexing, Jisung helped to lift Minho up before guiding him back down, dropping him harder than the other had before. He felt himself slip further inside, something he didn’t think was possible and Minho tightened around him - a startled cry echoing in the room. Jisung expected Minho to stop and scold him, but it never happened. In fact, it seemed like Minho gave up all control, letting Jisung guide him over his cock. There was a gentle pressure against his hips before it disappeared, warmth flooding the area once more. Jisung gave a small buck, hips free to move. 

Staring up at Minho, he grinned at him before reaching up and pulling him down into a deep kiss. Minho barely caught himself in time to keep their heads from colliding, arms shakily holding himself up. Jisung carded his fingers through Minho’s hair, gripping the brown locks at the base of his neck to keep him locked in the kiss. Lifting his legs, Jisung planted his feet on the mattress and gave a quick thrust up. He swallowed the choked moan from Minho, arms wrapping around him when Minho’s own arms gave up and he collapsed against Jisung, subsequently breaking the kiss.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jisung groaned deeply, burying his face in Minho’s neck as the other chanted in his ear. He was getting lost in the pleasure of fucking Minho, driving his cock hard and fast in the other. He was so close to the edge already, he knew he wasn’t going to last but he didn’t want to cum before Minho. Reaching between their pressed bodies, Jisung managed to wrap his fingers against Minho’s cock. It was hot and heavy and pulsing and with one stroke Minho was crying out into his shoulder as he came. The rhythmic clenching of Minho’s hole sent Jisung into his own orgasm, burying his cock deep inside the other and filling him with his cum.

With the last twitch of his cock, Jisung went lax on the bed, panting heavily. His hand tiredly ran up and down Minho’s back, the other relaxing against him as well. Jisung was content to just lay there with the other, despite the mess coating their stomachs and his hand. Turning his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to Minho’s temple, the other grumbling and hiding his face further into his shoulder. “Fuck that was so good.”

Minho hummed in response, but still refused to lift his head. That was fine with Jisung. “We should shower.” Minho mumbled and Jisung shook his head.

“Don’t wanna move.”

“You’re going to hate yourself later.” 

Jisung shrugged and sighed. “That’s a future Jisung problem. Current Jisung wants to cuddle with his boyfriend.” Minho snorted and finally lifted his head just enough so Jisung could see him roll his eyes affectionately. 

“Fine, whatever.” Pleased to get his way, Jisung planted a wet kiss into Minho’s cheek, snuggling closer to him. “Silly brat.”

“But I’m your brat.” Jisung snickered. “Love you Min.” Minho only hummed in acknowledgement, curling up further on Jisung. “Say it back.” he whined.

“Love you too.” Minho paused before sighing. “I guess.” Jisung couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the comment. It was so Minho to have such a sarcastic response, but Jisung surely wouldn’t have him any other way. 

Tags: @jisungsjheekies @hanjisungismybaby @sauceracha @babyskz @slinekyu @schokoshaker @rejemi @bxddiebang @eastleighsblog @hydrawaterdragon @3rachasninja

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[gaycrimesagainstmutants]

Oh yasss rottmnt!!! Btw drink some water my fella!

Anyways, I was wondering if you could do a Donnie x male reader where the reader has recently adopted a kitten who's very playful and tends to scratch a lot but is still an adorable sweetheart and when Donnie goes to visit him, the kitten immediately likes him? I've seen cats distrust and dislike people that aren't good for their owners so the idea of the cat immediately accepting Donnie would be super cute imo. You can skip this ask if you want lol ^^

Kitty Cat

Genre: Fluff

A/N: I'm prettyyyy sure Mnt. Dew has water in it, so I should be good! :) Haha, in all seriousness, ya'll stay hydrated! And thanks for the request. ^-^

"I seriously doubt you thought this through," Donnie said, tapping his foot as you fiddled with the door to your apartment.

"I did, Don. Trust me when I say that this was a perfectly thought out plan," You replied with a smile, cheering as you finally got the door open. Damn door and it's finicky lock, Donnie knew he'd have to fix it someday soon. Lest you break your hand trying to get it open.

When you had called Donnie a few nights ago, saying you found a poor little kitten in an alleyway, abandoned by it's mother, he had thought you would take it to a shelter. Or maybe give it to some extended family members. Not immediately get attached and try to keep it.

Not that he's surprised, you always had a bleeding heart.

Now, you had somehow roped him into meeting the thing. Something about how you wanted your two favorite creatures to get along. Donnie still thought it was a bad idea - you lived in a rinky dink apartment in New York, a city which had a new mutant or yökai or another odd threat every other week - but he couldn't judge. Your life, your choice.

So, as you two stepped inside your apartment and you went to go put up your belongings, Donnie decided to go searching for the little creature who lived in your walls. Didn't take him very long, the thing had somehow slipped behind the microwave and was meowing loudly for someone to come save it.

Donnie picked up the kitten by the scruff of it's neck and held it up, examining the cat with an analytical eye. The kitten was still young enough that there wasn't any clear way to tell their gender and from what research he did on cat species, they seemed to be a Ragdoll. "Intriguing," he muttered.

"Donnie, I swear, if you're expirementing on poor Crash," you said as you walked into the kitchen, gently scopping the kitten from his grasp and setting them back down to let them scamper off to go explore the apartment more.

"Crash?" Donnie asked.

"Short for Crashworth Cortex Bandicoot the First," you said with a shrug, before leaving the kitchen to go sit on the couch. Donnie paused for a moment, thinking about how silly of a name that was for a cat, before turning his attention to your snack cabinet.

----

After settling down on the couch next to you - granola bar and flavorless juice in hand - he thought that was the last he'd see of Crash for the rest of the day, besides the little bugger running into the living room to play.

At least, until he started clawing at the couch, meowing for your attention.

"Aw, come here baby," You cooed, picking them up and holding the kitten close to your chest. Donnie could almost wish you'd talk to him like that - so soft and full of childish love - if you didn't already do that, in front of his brothers no less. Oh well, it's onlt naturally for a kitten to want to spend time with it's owner.

Yet, the kitten kept meowing.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked, still using that cute baby-talk voice as Crash simmied out of your arms and leaped over to him. They circled around on his lap for a while, before laying down to rest, purring. "Hey, they like you!" You exclaimed, eyes shining with pure delight.

"I...suppose so," Donnie said, confusion laced in his tone. He knows cats can eat turtles - and that cats will, on many occasions - so he thought Crash would just see him as a gaint, walking tray of yummy turtle meat.

He supposed not.

Slowly running his fingers through the cats fur he was...pleasantly surprised. Normally, stuff like cat's fur would trigger all his sensory issues, but this nice and fluffy and didn't feel like a thousand ants trying to bury under his skin.

"You good, babe? You're zoning out," You asked, tapping his shoulder lightly with a concerned look on your face. Donnie cleared his throat.

"There isn't anything wrong, my dear. Let us focus on the show. Oh, remind me, what's it about again?" Donnie asked. The question sent you on a hyperfocused-induced ramble, which allowed Donnie a moment of breath and also to distract you from the rare pet name that slipped out in a moment of weakness or how he kept petting the sleeping kitten for the rest of the marathon.

[the-adventures-of-dave]

Genuinely worried, not a troll ask. Is TNR bad in all situations? I’m in an extremely rural area and have been working to TNR the local cat colony for about six years now. Most are feral, so it literally is ‘trap’ in that TNR and then handle the trap with puncture proof gloves, etc. I’ve managed to bring their numbers down from the mid twenties to about eight with only one litter born this spring, that I managed to catch and get to a shelter three hours away before they were too feral to handle.

Basically if I didn’t do TNR here, we’d just have a ton of feral cats and no birds at all? There are no resources. I’ve been trying for years to find someone willing to work with this area and we’re too far out in a zone with no resources in the one county shelter.

Hey there anon! I don't know if TNR is bad in all situations, I can just speak to what I've heard/read about and how it personally makes me feel. I'm glad that the method worked for you in your area and you were able to get that last litter to a good home! Regardless of my own feelings I'm glad it worked for you.

Below the cut are my thoughts on TNR. I don't mean it personally anon, I think that your care for the cats in your area is very honourable even if I don't quite agree with TNR as a whole. This is more of an explanation as to how TNR makes me feel than anything else.

Environmentally, you're still reintroducing the cats back into the ecosystem (just neutered). If TNR works exactly as it's supposed to and the cats don't die prematurely that's still years to potentially over a decade of dead birds killed by cats. There have also been studies shown that TNR doesn't always work as successfully as in your situation. People often see feeding stations as a safe place to dump unwanted pets, or else other intact strays can move in to fill in the gaps of deceased TNR colony members. [1] [2] [3]

My biggest concern with TNR though is the welfare of the cats. To use your colony as an example, in the course of six years you lost 15-20 cats. Some friendly kittens might have been adopted out, but what happened to the other ones that weren't adoptable? We keep our pet cats indoors to keep them safe from harm, but there's no way to keep ferals safe from disease, parasites, injuries, traffic, weather, or wildlife. Without an owner they're left wandering out there without vet care after being hit by a car, or getting frostbite, an infection, illness, etc. When they do die stray cats usually die pretty gruesome deaths, and personally I'm uncomfortable condemning a cat to that by rereleasing them with TNR. Even if TNR was a 100% effective way to minimize cat populations to me it seems kind of... cruel.

My sort-of jab at the author of that book was related to my feelings on those cats. Alley Cat Allies and other TNR groups often argue that if a cat is a part of a TNR colony it shouldn't be adopted out. TNR groups often advocate for these "community cats" to be left alone. Here's a screenshot from Alley Cat Allies in an article titled "5 Ways to Advocate for Cats in your Community":

Knowing that these cats can be injured/killed so easily and painfully and that they're being denied a safe, happy, and healthy life with a human owner just doesn't sit right with me. Not every TNR group advocates for this kind of practice, but it's enough of a pattern that I'm wary of them. It seems like the author of that book thinks it's better for your cat to be "happy and free" outdoors rather than inside.