#Breathing Problems in Flat-Faced Cat Breeds

[petcatandkitten]

Do cats with flat faces have breathing problems?

Because of their button noses, doll-like eyes, and squished cheeks, flat-faced cats have gained a lot of popularity recently. However, this cuteness comes at a cost. Cats with these flat features are referred to as "brachycephalic" in technical terms, and there are numerous health hazards associated with them.

Read on to learn about the dangers of brachycephalic cats and how excessive breeding has harmed these animals' health and wellbeing if you're thinking about getting one. Read More...

[cherryaire]

Stop buying purebred animals that you KNOW will be in pain later in life.

Literally if the demand for them stops, so does the supply. But because people are so interested in the 'aesthetic' of their animal over their wellbeing, people continue to buy animals with purposefully bred docked tails, flat brachycephalic faces, and short legs. Munchkin cats are literally being force bred with DWARFISM, just as Corgis are. Dwarfism comes with so many health complications, whether it's an animal or a person who has it. There's less study into how Munchkin cats suffer as they're a newer breed and most of the studying went into identifying their specific types of dwarfism first.

If the mutation happened randomly, as it does sometimes, that's one thing. But people are purposefully breeding these poor animals knowing that they can't breathe, they have spinal problems, and they will end up with arthritis and in a ton of pain the older they get because they're literally missing proper joint strength by shortening their legs on purpose. People are essentially making these animals suffer in some form for their entire lives because they want their pet to be cute. What human beings have done to the Pug since the 60s should be considered a crime.

And do not even get me started on the breeds that are mixed with literal wild cats like Savannahs and Bengals and Wolf Dogs. Do NOT get those animals.

ADOPT. DON'T SHOP.

Resources: Munchkin Cats Brachycephalic Cats Ethical Breeding (has links to papers within the text)

[petfolk123]

The Average Lifespan of a Cat A Breed-by-Breed Breakdown

This Blog was originally published on petfolk.in/ — The Average Lifespan of a Cat A Breed-by-Breed Breakdown

Cats are loved treasures in millions of families around the globe. Because of their curious nature and playful antics coupled with soothing purrs, they are the most loving company. One of the most vital questions that docket the minds of several people who adopt a cat is: how long will my pet live? A cat's lifespan depends on several factors such as breed, environment, and care. We will cover the average lifespan of different cat breeds and provide guidelines on how to extend your feline's life, including pet care services in Hyderabad and pet grooming services in Hyderabad in this comprehensive guide.

Learning about Cat Lifespan

Generally, the average house cat's lifespan is between 12 to 18 years, though some of them can live up to their 20s. However, the latter may vary greatly depending on breed, genetics, and lifestyle. Indoor cats may stay longer than outdoor ones because they experience a safer environment, consistent feeding, and access to veterinary care.

But what is specific if the breed comes into play? Let's have the details.

Breed-by-Breed Breakdown of Cat Lifespan

Siamese Cats 

Average Lifespan: 12–20 years Siamese cats are found with their body characterized by elegance and striking blue eyes. They rank among the longest-living cat breeds. Siamese cats can live up to 20 years. Make sure that your Siamese has a healthy life with good nutrition, stimulation, and visits to the vet.

Maine Coon

Average Lifespan: 12–15 years Maine Coons are large, majestic cats with a friendly and gentle temperament. Though they generally enjoy good health, they might be prone to heart disease. In that case, regular check-ups and heart monitoring could help them live longer. Maine Coons need regular grooming sessions since they have a thick, luxurious coat and we have the best packages for pet grooming in Hyderabad, .

Persian Cats

Average Lifespan: 12–17 years Persians are known for their beautiful long, silky coat and genial temperament. However, their brachycephalic (flat-faced) conformation predisposes them to breathing problems.

Ragdoll Cats

Average Lifespan: 12–15 years Ragdolls are docile and affectionate. Mostly they are healthy cats, but sometimes prone to urinary tract problems. A proper diet and water will keep them fit throughout their old age.

Bengal Cats

Average Lifespan: 12–16 years These are active and playful cats with a really striking leopard-like face. The healthy physique combined with the energetic lifestyle accounts for their comparatively long lifespan. For these cats, proper playtime and a nutritious diet must be administered. For busy pet parents, pet care services in Hyderabad like ours, will ensure that your Bengal cat gets an adequate amount of exercise and care.

British Shorthair

Average Lifespan: 12–20 years The British Shorthair is a robust, serene cat that is renowned for its longevity. With proper diet and exercise, along with regular vet care, they can easily thrive in their golden years well into the teens. As they are also prone to overweighting, controlling their food portions and regular exercise would be a good practice. Utilizing pet grooming services in Hyderabad can also help maintain their coat in very good condition, this further reduces the possibility of matting.

Sphynx Cats

Average Lifespan: 9–15 years The hairless Sphynx is a unique breed with a loving and affectionate personality. Though they do not have fur, they require regular grooming to remove oils from their skin. This breed has a slightly shorter lifespan because of possible heart conditions, but with regular vet care and proper grooming, you can keep your Sphynx healthy.

Scottish Fold

Average Lifespan: 11–14 years Scottish Folds can be distinguished by their folded ears and calm nature. The breed is in itself relatively healthy but could face joint problems due to genetic conditions. They would need regular check-ups and preventive care.

Abyssinian Cats

Average Lifespan: 9–15 years Abyssinians are quite active and curious, making sure they keep active till their old ages. Being dogs in cat suits the primary dental problems set in aging. A regular checkup at the vet, coupled with a nutritious diet, can do the trick. For those in Hyderabad, pet care services might just keep the cat fit for you.

Factors Influencing Your Cat's Lifespan

While breed may give an approximation of a general potential lifespan for a cat, several factors influence how long your cat might live. Some of these are:

Diet and Nutrition

A proper balanced diet rich in protein, vitamins, and minerals is one of the essential requirements of your cat, in any case. You may ask your vet for the most suitable diet for your pure breed.

Exercise and Stimulation

As much as possible, regular exercise and mental stimulation must be done to make sure that your cat stays healthy, especially if you have one of the more active breeds like Bengal or Abyssinian. Interactive toys and climbing structures will keep your cat busy. 

Grooming

Proper grooming will not only make your cat appear great and beautiful but will also keep the cat free of health issues like matting, skin infections, and excessive shedding. Whether you have a long-haired Persian or a short-haired Siamese, it does not matter because grooming is essential for all breeds. Pet grooming services in Hyderabad can help ensure that your cat is kept in the best possible condition.

Veterinary Care

Routine visits to the vet, vaccinations, and preventive treatments for example, flea and tick prevention are considered to elongate the life span of the cat.

Environment

According to many veterinarians, indoor cats live much longer than their outdoor counterparts because they are kept away from predators, diseases, and accidents. A safe and stimulating indoor environment will give you extra years with your cat.

Looking to invest in a Pet Franchise in Hyderabad?

Pet franchise opportunities with Petfolk will be a perfect option if you have a love for pets and want to enter the pet care business. Professional services especially in grooming and health care are highly in demand; it's a good time to consider such a business venture. There are many ways to provide a service from opening up a grooming salon to mobile servicing for the pet-loving community of Hyderabad.

Conclusion:

The average lifespan of a cat depends on the breed, but many cats do long, happy lives with proper care and regular grooming through a healthy lifestyle. Pet care is certainly a thriving industry.

[gunjanmunshi]

The Persian Cat Price: A Comprehensive Guide to the Breed

The Persian cat is one of the most recognizable and beloved breeds in the world, known for its stunning appearance and gentle nature. If you're looking for a Persian cat for sale, be prepared to pay a premium price, with the Persian cat price in India ranging from ₹30,000 onwards, depending on the quality and bloodline. Whether you're looking for a cute Persian cat or a majestic show cat, this breed is sure to captivate.

Persian Cat/Kitten Origin and History

The Persian cat originated in ancient Persia (modern-day Iran) over 1,500 years ago. They were highly valued for their beautiful long coats and calm demeanor, making them a favorite among royalty. Today, the Persian cat is a popular breed worldwide, prized for its stunning appearance and affectionate personality. If you're looking for a white Persian cat or a black Persian cat, you'll find that both colors are equally stunning.

Persian Cat/Kitten Physical Characteristics

Persian cats are known for their long, fluffy coat, which requires regular grooming to prevent matting. They also have a flat face and a brachycephalic (short-nosed) breed, which can lead to breathing difficulties if not properly cared for. Their large, round eyes come in a range of colors, including blue, copper, and odd-eyed (different colors in each eye), with some Persian cats boasting striking blue eyes or piercing copper eyes. The Persian cat's stocky build and short legs only add to their charm.

Persian Cat/Kitten Colors and Variations

Persian cats come in a variety of colors and patterns, including solid colors like white, black, blue, chocolate, and red. You can also find bi-color, calico, tabby, and tortoiseshell patterns, each with its unique beauty. Some Persian cats even have dual-colored eyes, adding to their allure. Whether you prefer a classic black Persian cat or a stunning white Persian cat, there's a color combination to suit every taste.

Persian Cat/Kitten Facial Structure

Persian cats are categorized into three facial structures: doll face persian cat, semi-punch face persian cat, and punch face persian cat. The punch-face persian cat kitten is particularly sought after for its extremely brachycephalic skull, while the semi-punch face offers a slightly more moderate look. The doll face, meanwhile, is a more traditional Persian face, prized for its gentle features.

Persian Cat/Kitten Health Considerations

Due to their brachycephalic skull, Persian cats are prone to respiratory issues, so regular monitoring and proper care are essential. They're also susceptible to eye problems, making regular check-ups with a veterinarian crucial. By understanding these health considerations, you can provide your Persian cat with the care they need to thrive.

Persian Cat Grooming and Care

Persian cats require regular grooming to prevent matting and tangling of their beautiful long coats. A clean living environment is also vital to prevent respiratory issues, while proper nutrition is essential for maintaining overall health. With the right care and attention, your Persian cat will be a loving and loyal companion.

Persian Cat/Kitten Eye Colors

Persian Cat/Kittens can have:

Blue eyes: A bright, vibrant blue.

Copper eyes: A warm, golden color.

Odd-eyed: Different colors in each eye.

Dual-colored eyes: Two colors within the same eye.

Persian Cat Price in India and Availability

The price of a Persian cat varies depending on factors like location, breeder reputation, and bloodline. In India, you can expect to pay:

Persian Cat Price: ₹30,000 Onwards for a pet-quality kitten.

Conclusion

The Persian cat is a beloved breed known for its stunning appearance and gentle nature. Whether you're looking for a Persian cat for sale or simply want to learn more about this majestic breed, understanding their characteristics, needs, and price will help you make an informed decision. With proper care and attention, a Persian cat can bring joy and companionship into your life.

[deshibiog]

Persian Cats: The Most Luxurious Breed of Cat

When it comes to the world of feline companions, there's one breed that stands out as the epitome of luxury and elegance: the Persian Cat. Renowned for its stunning appearance and regal demeanor, the Persian cat is undeniably one of the best cat breeds for those seeking a truly exquisite pet. In this article, we'll explore the allure of Persian cats, their characteristics, and even touch upon the closely related Exotic Shorthair breed, while delving into their exotic shorthair lifespan.

The Persian cat's history dates back to the 1600s when it first appeared in Europe. Originating from Persia (modern-day Iran), this breed quickly captivated cat enthusiasts worldwide. Its most distinctive feature is its long, luxurious coat, which is soft as silk and often described as a work of art. Persian cats come in a wide range of colors and patterns, making them a favorite choice for those who appreciate the diversity in feline aesthetics.

Persian cats are not just beautiful; they also possess a calm and gentle temperament, making them wonderful companions. They are known for their laid-back disposition, which is perfect for families and individuals alike. These cats are typically not very active and prefer lounging around the house, which makes them an ideal choice for indoor living. Their soothing presence can be particularly comforting, and they are known for their ability to alleviate stress and anxiety, making them excellent emotional support animals.

One of the key factors that set Persian cats apart from other breeds is their luxurious, long fur. However, maintaining their coats requires regular grooming. Their fur can become tangled and matted if not properly cared for. It's essential to brush them daily to prevent matting and keep their fur in optimal condition. Bathing and occasional professional grooming may also be necessary. Their distinctive appearance is a labor of love, but for many Persian cat owners, it's well worth the effort.

Now, let's talk about the Exotic Shorthair, a closely related breed to the Persian cat. This breed was developed by crossbreeding Persians with shorthaired breeds, resulting in a similar appearance to the Persian but with a short, plush coat. The Exotic Shorthair offers all the charm and personality of the Persian but with a coat that requires significantly less grooming. This makes them a great choice for cat lovers who adore the Persian's temperament but are looking for a low-maintenance option.

As with any breed, it's essential to consider the lifespan of Persian cats. On average, Persian cats can live for 12 to 16 years, but with proper care and attention, some have been known to reach their early 20s. To ensure a long and healthy life for your Persian cat, regular veterinary check-ups are a must. Like all cats, they can be susceptible to certain health issues, including dental problems, kidney disease, and heart disease. A well-balanced diet, regular exercise, and a loving environment can help prevent and manage these issues.

It's worth noting that Persian cats' facial structure can predispose them to respiratory issues due to their flat faces. This condition is known as brachycephalic syndrome and can affect their ability to breathe comfortably. Responsible breeding practices are crucial in minimizing the risk of such health problems, so it's essential to choose a reputable breeder when acquiring a Persian cat.

In conclusion, Persian cats are undoubtedly one of the best cat breeds for those who appreciate the finer things in life. Their exquisite appearance, calm demeanor, and affectionate nature make them highly desirable pets. For those who adore the Persian but are concerned about grooming, the Exotic Shorthair offers a low-maintenance alternative with a similar temperament.

If you decide to welcome a Persian cat into your home, remember that their long lifespan requires a commitment to their care and well-being. With proper attention and a loving environment, your Persian cat can be a cherished member of your family for many years to come. So, if you're in search of a luxurious and regal feline companion, the Persian cat is a top choice that will undoubtedly bring joy and elegance to your life.

[is-the-primate-vid-cute]

Do golden snub nosed monkeys suffer from breathing issues like flat faced cats and dog breeds like pugs have due to their smushed noses? Or does the nose shape help them in some way? I know about the health issues pugs have and i was wondering if the monkeys have the same issue.They’re super cool looking monkeys and i want to know more about them!

Nope! The snub nosed monkey has exactly the nose it needs. Where pugs and Persians have nose problems, there are issues on and under the surface. These breeds were selectively bred by humans to have their smushed face and have become brachycephalic as a result. Not only are their internal nasal cavities all bent out of shape, but the nose on the outside is no better; brachycephalic animals tend to have very small nostrils that close to have a slit or crack like opening which makes breathing even harder. The deformed skull also causes other problems such as dental malformation and bulging eyes.

Snub nosed monkeys on the other hand? They are fine and dandy! their internal noses are basically the same as other species of monkeys, it's just the outside that looks different. Additionally, they have nice, open nostrils for breathing. The only difference is that where other species have protruding bone and cartilage, snub nosed monkeys remain minimalist in the nose department.

Heres a close look at the nose. While we might not know exactly why they have noses like this, it seems to work for them!

[followthebluebell]

Do flat faced cats face the same problems flat faced dogs do with breathing, eye issues, and face fold issues?

Yes. My office muppets all require daily face cleanings to various degrees--- Mac and Julianna are the worst off here. Mac's eye crevices are permanently damp, so he's very prone to infections in the folds and Julianna has twice-daily eye drops. Some Persians are also just shit at drinking out of water dishes and can have very damp chest fur, which can get moldy if you don't keep it clean.

They all snuffle pretty much constantly. Whenever I groom a Persian, I'm especially careful to watch for signs of stress in case it's too much for them to handle. As a breed, they're said to be especially docile and quiet, but I personally believe that's less about their personality and more to do with the fact that they can't breathe if they're 'too active'. Effectively, I don't believe they can fully Cat.

And that's just the start of it, honestly. This link goes into some detail about MRI's of Persians and the frequency of hydrocephalus in extremely Brachy (short faced) persians. Even doll-faced (the ones with a nose that I find so very cute) can be affected to a degree. Most Persian skulls demonstrated a pressure against the mesencephalon portion of the brain and owners and breeders reported, "their cats as “dummies”, sometimes running into objects or falling from the windowsill. They are often uninterested in playing and have reduced social interactions with other cats and with the owner, which might imply more neurologic deficits than initially detectable. However, behavioral studies are necessary to prove the actual degree of feline cognitive abilities."

Again, I want to remind people that Persians have this reputation for being very stupid and docile. It's my belief that it's not because we bred them to be docile from a behavioral standpoint. It's because we crippled them physically without knowing it.

As a result, I am very much against breeding brachy cats. Persian cats are not the only breed affected by this, but they are the most well-known. Unfortunately, some cat breeds have been trending towards brachy faces: exotic shorthairs, british shorthairs, Scottish folds (they have an entirely different set of problems as it is), munchkins (again, problematic breed), bombays, himalayans, and burmese cats are the ones that first come to my mind. No doubt I'm missing a few breeds.

[mcyt-cats]

People who say Minx's cat is ugly have just never seen an exotic breed before. Those mfers are cut as shit with their smooshed little faces

I agree, Minx's cats are adorable!

However I would like to take this opportunity to say please be wary with Scottish Fold cats or any exotic breed. They're super cute, I agree, but the thing that causes their ears to fold is a genetic defect that unfortunately causes some pretty severe health problems. Their cartilage is too weak to support their ears, which is why they fold. But it also causes severe arthritis and joint problems. They're quite popular as cats still though so I'm sure Minx didn't know that before getting Cornelius and Sylum.

Here's a scientific journal article that found Osteochondrodysplasia in Scottish Fold cats

Here is a BBC article about it

Some places have considered banning the breed. It's a little like pugs or Persian cats, who both have issues breathing due to their flat faces. If you want a distinct or exotic cat (or dog), take care that those traits won't cause it health problems!

[bloody-bee-tea]

Baxia

This fills the prompt for “Animal Sidekick”

Nie Mingjue is still grumbling about the cuts on his arm, Baxia now safely inside her carrier and protected by a blanket, when he leaves his apartment.

The only reason he doesn’t notice his new neighbour immediately is because he’s trying to close and lock his door without upsetting Baxia too much and it’s not working very well. She’s a huge cat, and while Nie Mingjue would consider himself fairly fit and strong, carrying her with one hand gets tedious very fast.

“Do you need help?” someone asks and Nie Mingjue just barely manages not to flinch.

“Yeah, I do actually,” he says, before he turns towards the voice and is met with the most beautiful man he has ever seen.

“Hi,” the guy awkwardly says and gives a little wave, before he plucks the key out of Nie Mingjue’s hand to close his door. “I’m Jiang Wanyin, I just moved in next door.”

“Nie Mingjue, pleasure,” Nie Mingjue replies and he means it with all his heart, too.

“Who do you have there?” Jiang Wanyin asks and he’s already leaning down towards the cat carrier as if he wants to spy inside.

“Baxia, my cat,” Nie Mingjue says and takes a step back, wincing when Jiang Wanyin’s face falls. “Sorry, but the blanket has to stay on, she’s one hell of a beast and there is nothing she hates more than the cat carrier. I need her to be calm until we arrive at the vet, and without the blanket that’s not going to happen.”

“I see,” Jiang Wanyin says. “Is she sick? I hope she’ll recover soon.”

“Nah, just her regular check-up. Her breed is susceptible for all kinds of problems, so, yeah. Regular check-up,” Nie Mingjue awkwardly trails off and then wants to smack himself in the face.

Why does he always lose his cool in front of beautiful people? He should be immune, he knows Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao after all!

“Ah, I understand,” Jiang Wanyin says with one last longing look at the cat carrier. “I’ll let you go then. It was nice meeting you.”

“It was very nice,” Nie Mingjue agrees. “And thank you for your help. I’ll see you around,” he calls out, already walking away, because Baxia is one hell of a beast and his arm is dying.

“Sure,” Jiang Wanyin mutters behind him and something in his voice makes Nie Mingjue decide then and there to invite him over for lunch or dinner or just flat out cat-seeing, just to never have to hear him this sad.

But first he has to get Baxia to the vet, out of the carrier, back in to the carrier and then home. Nie Mingjue shudders, already feeling the phantom scratches all over his arms.

It’s going to be a long afternoon.

~*~*~

It’s three days later when Nie Mingjue decides that he waited long enough. Three days are the rule, right? Not that this has anything to do with dating, but three days. He’s sure it’s fine.

He pats Baxia’s head when he passes her on the couch, earning a disgruntled hiss, and a few seconds later Nie Mingjue finds himself in front of Jiang Wanyin’s door, knocking twice.

It doesn’t take too long for Jiang Wanyin to open it, and Nie Mingjue is hit by his entire beauty again.

Memory really didn’t do him justice.

“Hi?” Jiang Wanyin carefully says when Nie Mingjue doesn’t say anything for a moment too long. “Have I been too loud or anything?”

“No, no, not at all, hi!” Nie Mingjue rushes out and wonders why only Nie Huaisang gets to be good at flirting. Not that he is even flirting, it’s just.

Jiang Wanyin really is beautiful.

“I was just wondering—you didn’t get to see Baxia last time and I wondered if you’d like to? You seemed to be interested and today there are no vet visits on the agenda.”

Nie Mingjue feels like he’s fifteen again and talking to his crush for the first time; he thought he had grown out of it, but clearly it was the lack of a crush that made him a functioning human being.

Fuck.

“That would be awesome,” Jiang Wanyin breathes out, his eyes lighting up and suddenly he seems as eager as a kid that was promised a treat.

Nie Mingjue will have to invite him over more often.

When they get back to Nie Mingjue’s apartment and into the living-room, Baxia is nowhere to be seen. Which—on the one hand it’s to be expected, she’s a cat after all, but on the other hand it’s goddamn strange because she’s as huge as some dogs Nie Mingjue has seen and she really shouldn’t be this good at hiding.

“I swear a moment ago she was sleeping on the couch,” Nie Mingjue apologetically says and has to watch as Jiang Wanyin’s face falls again.

He will cut back on the treats for Baxia today, if she doesn’t show, Nie Mingjue swears!

“I’m a stranger, I understand,” Jiang Wanyin shrugs, but he does seem crushed.

Nie Mingjue very deliberately does not tell him that Baxia has never met a stranger she didn’t want to rub up against, because his brain comes up with the horrifying thought that that might make Jiang Wanyin cry and Nie Mingjue can’t have that.

“Let’s try something,” Nie Mingjue says and vanishes into the kitchen, coming back with treats and some toys Baxia usually really likes.

“Baxia!” he calls out and shakes the package with the treats, but she doesn’t seem interested.

They try a few more things, but Baxia really stays hidden and eventually Jiang Wanyin tells him he has to go.

“But thanks for trying,” he says with a sad smile and Nie Mingjue curses his damned cat.

“We’ll try again,” he promises him and he wasn’t prepared for the smile that gets him.

Jiang Wanyin is gone for maybe five seconds when Baxia strolls into the living-room.

“You are a demon straight from hell,” Nie Mingjue tells her, which only gains him a disdainful flick of her tail.

Not that he expected anything else.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue invites Jiang Wanyin for lunch a week later.

They didn’t have time to really talk before, but Nie Mingjue is pleasantly surprised to find that Jiang Wanyin is smart, and funny, and loves animals and his nephew more than his own life.

Nie Mingjue wants to keep him forever.

“She really just doesn’t like me, huh?” Jiang Wanyin says when they are putting their dishes into the dishwasher and still, Baxia did not show up once.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Nie Mingjue says, not for the first time and makes a move to search his apartment for his damn missing cat, like he already did twice today.

It’s only Jiang Wanyin’s hand on his arm that stops him.

“If she doesn’t want to see me, that’s fine,” he says, even though Nie Mingjue can tell that it’s not fine.

“I’m really sorry,” Nie Mingjue helplessly says, and fights the urge to hug all the apparent sadness out of Jiang Wanyin.

“That’s alright,” Jiang Wanyin waves off and then leaves for his own apartment again.

When Nie Mingjue closes the door behind him and turns around, Baxia is sitting in the hallway as if she was never anywhere else.

“I hate you,” Nie Mingjue tells her with fervour and she blinks at him.

Demon cat. She must be.

~*~*~

They try lunch four more times, and while Nie Mingjue gets more delighted the more often he has Jiang Wanyin over, he seems to get sadder the more often he doesn’t get to see Baxia.

Nie Mingjue almost wants to stop asking him to come over, simply so he doesn’t have to see this heartbroken look on Jiang Wanyin’s face whenever another afternoon passes where Baxia doesn’t show hide or hair but Nie Mingjue can’t bring himself to stop asking.

He loves seeing Jiang Wanyin, loves talking to him, loves having him in his apartment, loves providing for him and he’s not going to stop anytime soon.

By now he almost wants Baxia to stay hidden, just so he has an excuse to invite Jiang Wanyin over again and again. If only Jiang Wanyin wouldn’t look so sad and dejected whenever he has to leave without seeing her.

~*~*~

Lunches turn into dinners—mostly because Nie Mingjue hopes that if they eat at her usual dinner time, Baxia will come out to eat as well—but they still don’t have any luck.

Baxia won’t show her face and Nie Mingjue wants to strangle her for making Jiang Wanyin sad.

“I’m better with dogs, anyway,” Jiang Wanyin says, clearly trying for light but failing by a mile and Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“I think this is more of a her problem, than a you problem. I don’t really know what’s wrong with her, or why she’s hiding but—” he trails off, because he doesn’t actually have to say anything.

He can’t come up with an explanation for his cats behaviour at all and there’s only one more thing he can think of to try.

“Sleep here, tonight? She has to come out for food eventually, so maybe then you’ll see her?”

It’s a genuine offer, because Nie Mingjue can’t think of anything else to do anymore, and he’s not at all prepared for how Jiang Wanyin’s face shifts from surprised, to confused, to angry.

“Is that how you do this?” he hisses and Nie Mingjue takes a step back, totally caught off guard by his reaction. “Is there even a cat?”

“I—what? Of course there is a cat! Why would I ever make that up?”

“Because I said I like animals? Is that how you’re trying to come on to me? Or is this just some elaborate prank? Are you trying to see how long I will believe you?”

“What? Wanyin, no! Baxia is real, I promise. We met in the hallway, right, me with the cat carrier? I know you didn’t see her then, but how the hell would I have made up all this if I didn’t even know you then?”

“I—” Jiang Wanyin deflates and he turns away from Nie Mingjue. “I don’t know,” he lowly admits. “Just tell me. Is there a cat?”

“Yes, there is a cat, Wanyin, please, you have to believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

“So you—weren’t coming on to me, just now?” Jiang Wanyin asks haltingly and Nie Mingjue can see that his ears are turning red.

“I mean—” Nie Mingjue starts and then gets interrupted by a loud meow when Baxia strolls into the living-room, right up to Jiang Wanyin and rubs up against his legs.

“Oh, wow,” Jiang Wanyin breathes out and immediately kneels down. “Hello there, beautiful,” he whispers, and holds out his hand for Baxia to sniff.

She does much more than that, because she pushes her entire head into his hand and then starts to purr as if there isn’t anything better in the world.

“She’s absolutely gorgeous,” Jiang Wanyin says, literal stars in his eyes as he blinks up at Nie Mingjue and that’s it.

Nie Mingjue is a simple man, and there is only so much he can take.

“You are gorgeous,” he blurts out. “I wasn’t coming on to you, because I’m thick when it comes to stuff like that and I could never come up with such an elaborate plan, but I would like to. Come on to you. I mean. I like you?” he rambles and he wants to sink into the floor when he’s not only met with Jiang Wanyin’s amused glance but also Baxia’s judging one.

“I swear to all the gods, this cat has more attitude than some people I have met,” Nie Mingjue mutters and wonders if it’s too late to pull a Baxia as well and simply hide himself away forever.

“Well, she’s more gorgeous than most people, too, so it only seems fair,” Jiang Wanyin says and then looks down at the Baxia, who has gone back to rubbing her head against all available places on Jiang Wanyin.

“Do you mean it?” he asks, his hands nervously moving over Baxia and Nie Mingjue crouches down next to him.

“Yes,” he says. “I like you. I think you’re absolutely perfect and I would love to ask you out on a date.”

“Okay,” Jiang Wanyin agrees almost immediately and when he looks back up, he’s smiling.

Nie Mingjue wants to keep him like that, always.

Baxia meows in agreement as well and Nie Mingjue wonders if maybe she did all of this on purpose.

He wouldn’t put it past her, she’s a beast from hell after all, no matter how cute she acts with Jiang Wanyin right now.

“It seems like she agrees as well,” Jiang Wanyin whispers. “It’s always important to have the kids on one’s side.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about that. She already loves you more than me, so,” Nie Mingjue shrugs.

He’s proven right when Baxia tries to climb into Jiang Wanyin’s lap, way too big for that to actually work, but going by Jiang Wanyin’s laugh he doesn’t mind it one bit.

Nie Mingjue already never wants to let him leave ever again.

(And he doesn’t. He manages to ask Jiang Wanyin to marry him all on his own, with no help from Baxia, but she does carry the ring in the church. No one knows why she is able to do that since no one taught her, but Nie Mingjue long ago stopped questioning her behaviour. It got him the love of his life, anyway, it’s not like he can complain.)

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[iam93percentstardust]

Prompt: Stony, animal transformation

I realized about halfway through writing this that you probably meant a spell or something but I wrote shifters instead and I really liked what I had so I kept going. Sorry it’s a lot crackier than you were probably expecting; you can blame @maguna-stxrk for that

As always, everything I write is also available on ao3

~

“No.”

The first time Tony met Steve Rogers, he was both delighted and irritated. Delighted because hey! Captain America is another cat shifter! And that means that Howard was wrong and Tony is, in fact, like Captain America (in some ways at least; in others, that remains to be proven).

“I won’t do it.”

And irritated because Captain America is another cat shifter.

“You can’t make me.”

Tony knows that there are cat shifters out there who are perfectly friendly and like being around other cats. He is not one of them. There are multiple reasons why he and Steve clashed on the helicarrier and only one of them is Loki’s staff. Tony’s breed is highly territorial and everything in his tower is his and he doesn’t want another cat in there rubbing up against his stuff. But there Fury is, insisting that the entire team move into the tower.

“I don’t want them there,” Tony says flatly. That’s not entirely true. He doesn’t really want any of them there but he’s willing to put up with them. The only one he really truly genuinely doesn’t want there is Steve.

It’s probably a good thing none of the rest of the team is here to hear him complaining about them. But, well, they should know better than to expect friendliness out of him. He’s not friendly. He’s majestic and aloof and not in the mood to have anyone else around to see him when he’s not being majestic and aloof.

Fury eyes him. Tony doesn’t know what kind of shifter he is—he keeps that kind of paperwork on actual paper, ew—but he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s something sneaky and devious like Fury himself (probably a snake. Tony hates snakes).

“Stark, the ways I could make you do what I want—”

“—are all against the Geneva Convention,” Tony finishes smoothly. In his reflection on the table, he realizes that the tuft of hair behind his ear isn’t lying flat. He licks the back of his hand and reaches up to smooth the hairs back down.

“Stark.”

“Fury.”

“We are running out of options—”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“—for Clint.”

Tony shuts up. Sighs. Glances through the window of the conference room where he can see Clint leaning against the wall, stuck in partial shift since Loki and the invasion. His golden tail is tucked between his legs, his ears are drooped, and he flinches like a kicked puppy (not an inaccurate description) every time someone walks by.

“How bad is it?” he asks.

“People don’t want him on the helicarrier,” Fury says. “He makes them nervous. His pack bonds were broken when Loki took him, and with Coulson—well.”

Yeah, that. Dog shifters like Clint rely on pack bonds, even those formed between non-dogs. Tony’s always been more of a loner so he can’t really imagine what Clint is going through but judging by the way Clint looks, he can guess it isn’t easy.

“They’ve all been briefed on what it’s like living with a cat, even Rogers, and they know about your idiosyncrasies in particular.”

And that’s the crux of the matter. “I don’t want him there,” Tony says quietly.

“He’s not the same breed—”

“But he’s got the same instincts!” He sighs frustratedly and almost runs his hand through his hair before he realizes how much that’ll mess up his hairstyle. His tail lashes agitatedly behind him, instincts urging him to claw, to bite, to protect his home from the invader. “Why can’t it just be Clint?”

“Because where Clint goes, Natasha goes. Besides, Clint needs the pack bonds, which means he needs the whole team.”

Tony hisses, crosses his arms, pouts. “Fine,” he says eventually. “But I don’t like it.”

And then, before Fury can feel too smug in his victory, he keeps aggressive eye contact and knocks Fury’s water glass off the table, darting away before he can hear more than the bellow of rage.

 ~

“I don’t want you here,” Tony says, ears laced back irritably. It’s the first time he’s come across Steve in the tower so far and of course the man (well, actually he’s shifted into his cat form right now) is lying in Tony’s favorite sunbeam. The nerve of some people.

The single eye that Tony can see slits open and stares at him for a long moment. In the next moment, a ripple comes over the cat and then Steve has partially shifted back, stretching lazily as he yawns. “Okay, Tony,” he agrees.

“You’re in my sunbeam.”

“Okay, Tony.”

“I want you out of it.”

“But it’s such a nice sunbeam.”

“It’s mine.”

“We could share it.”

Tony lets out an offended yowl. They can’t share it. That would defeat the purpose of it being his. Steve stares at him for a long moment and then stretches again, muscles rippling in interesting ways that make Tony want to knead them for—no. No kneading. No accepting the interloper.

“Come on, Tony. It’s sunny and I want to nap. We can share the sunbeam,” Steve says around another yawn before flopping over onto his side, still mostly human. Tony wants to bite his tail. But… he does want a nap. And this is favorite sunbeam. And he shouldn’t have to find another one since there’s no way Steve will be leaving this one (sadly Tony has not yet figured out the right strength the armor needs to move him).

He carefully lays down, putting several inches of space between him and Steve. Almost immediately, he can feel the effects of the warm sun on him, pulling him under into a light doze. It’s not enough to fall asleep entirely, not when he can still feel Steve at his front but then Steve starts to purr and oh, that’s kind of nice. He hesitantly lets out an answering purr of his own. Steve’s rumble grows louder and almost without meaning to, Tony finds his hands kneading the ground contentedly.

~

But that won’t stand. It can’t stand. He conceded ground on the sunbeam because it and Steve were warm and that was clearly a mistake because now Steve is standing in the kitchen, drinking coffee from Tony’s favorite coffeepot out of Tony’s favorite mug as he talks to Natasha.

And this injustice cannot stand!

“Mine,” he hisses, fingers shifting into extended claws, ready to tear into Steve for daring to drink from what clearly belongs to Tony.

At his hiss, Natasha’s skin ripples until she’s scaly and blending in with the cabinets. Smart of her to stay out of his way. Few things are worse than a territorial cat and even someone as lethal as Natasha would hesitate to face him when he’s like this, even though Steve gives her an amused look and says, “Really?”

Steve takes another sip out of the mug. Tony’s hiss turns into a full-throated growl. “Tony, you have to learn to share.”

“No.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Mine.”

“Yeah, you said that.” Steve doesn’t sound very impressed. Or even particularly intimidated, damn it.

“It’s my mug, it’s my favorite mug, you have to give it back,” Tony says, eyes tracking the mug as Steve lifts it to his lips again—wow, they looked kind of pink and pretty in the morning—no, focus. “Give it.”

“Alright,” Steve says agreeably and holds the mug out. “Here you go.”

Tony’s tail lashes and he hisses again. “You know I don’t like to be handed things.”

“Oh right,” Steve says, sounding remarkably unconcerned. “Too bad then. Guess you’re not getting your mug back.” He takes another sip from the mug—Tony’s mug.

“No,” Tony whines, drawing the word out so that it has at least eight additional syllables. He flops over onto the kitchen table, rolling around mostly so that he’s treating this situation with the hysteria it deserves but also so that he can scent mark the table, which currently smells of the rest of the team and not like him.

“Tony, stop being overdramatic,” Natasha orders, apparently deciding that she doesn’t need to blend in with the background anymore. “Steve, stop being a shit and give him back his mug.”

“No,” they both say petulantly.

She pulls out one of the many, many knives she keeps on her person. Tony hurriedly rolls off the table. Steve quickly puts the mug down and pulls out another one. Immediately, Tony darts to his mug—all his, no one else’s—and cradles it to his chest.

“That’s better,” Natasha says smugly and stalks out of the kitchen.

Tony waits until she’s gone and Steve has filled his new mug. Then, as Steve busies himself with cooking his breakfast, he slowly, cautiously reaches out and bats Steve’s mug off the counter. He gleefully sprints out of the kitchen to the sound of Steve’s outraged yowls, clutching his own mug close.

~

“Clint says you’ve been working too long,” Steve says, surprising Tony so much all the fur on his tail stands straight up.

“Fuck,” he spits. “I have a heart condition, you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees like the asshole cat he is. “But I don’t think I’m going to give you a heart attack just by sneaking up on you. Not my fault you were in a zone.”

Tony grumbles wordlessly under his breath. It’s true that he’s been in a zone for the last couple hours or so, something that he achieves only through kneading or inventing, but that’s no reason for Clint to be concerned.

“Why do you care if Clint says I’ve been working too long?” he asks. Steve picks up one of his screwdrivers and spins it between his fingers before setting it back down. Tony immediately picks it up as well and rubs his cheek on it to cover it in his scent again. Steve shoots him a mischievous grin and promptly moves further away to do the same thing to a different screwdriver. Tony resigns himself to losing another couple of hours to scent marking everything once Steve is gone.

“I don’t,” Steve says, now rubbing up against one of the armors (and no, Tony is not thinking about how good Steve looks like that). “I thought we were doing a great job of ignoring each other. But he says it’s been more than twenty-four hours, which means it’s time for a break.”

“Says who?”

“Pepper, apparently.”

Tony winces. Okay, yeah, he can ignore pretty much everyone except for Pepper. She’s important.

“So you’re… what, here to drag me upstairs for dinner?”

Steve shakes his head and holds up a bag in his hand. “Thought I’d offer to split a bag of catnip with you.”

Huh.

“Huh,” Tony says out loud. He eyes it suspiciously. “It’s not laced with anything else, is it? You’re not going to take me to knock me out and take me to Medical.”

“Just pure catnip.” Steve opens the bag and Tony’s eyes dilate at the intoxicating scent. “Why, do you need to go to Medical?”

Tony thinks of the two cracked ribs he suffered during the battle yesterday that he’d wrapped himself. “Nope,” he says blithely. Steve’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t argue. “Are you going to judge me for straight up eating it?”

“Are you going to judge me for doing the same?”

“Fair,” he says and holds out a hand for the bag. Steve upends it and dumps half in Tony’s hand, watching without judgment as Tony stuffs half of it into his mouth.

And when Tony comes back from his catnip-induced high to finds himself fully shifted, Steve’s own shifted form wrapped so tightly around him that his short tabby fur is mingling with Tony’s longer white fur, there’s no judgment there either, just Steve purring and purring and purring.

~

“Why do you do it?” Tony quietly asks Steve one night. Some animated movie is playing on the screen but Tony doesn’t think anyone is actually paying attention to it. The rest of the team is busy sleeping together in a cuddle pile in their shifted forms, Clint’s golden retriever spooned by Thor’s panda, Bruce’s owl perched on top of Clint with his head tucked under his wing. He can’t spot Natasha’s chameleon but he can smell her so he knows she’s there somewhere. He and Steve are sitting apart from the rest of the team, studiously ignoring them. It had surprised him when Steve hadn’t gotten down there to join them—tabbies tend to be more social than other cats—and instead chosen to curl up next to him on the couch in his partial shift, but to his shock, he isn’t complaining about it.

Idly, Steve twines his tail around Tony’s twitching one and purrs, relaxing him until he’s a puddle on the couch. “Nat said it was a good way to get your attention.”

“What, picking a fight with me?”

“Tony.” Steve gives him a long look and then leans over to lick his ear. It should make Tony stiffen, run away, groom over that one spot until he no longer smells of Steve anymore. It doesn’t. It just makes his ear flick curiously. “I never wanted to fight with you.”

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly, Tony’s brain is sifting through every interaction he and Steve have ever had, looking at them in a new light. Okay, and yeah, now that he’s thinking about it, he can see that this has all been Steve’s clumsy, well-intended attempt at courting him. And maybe he’s never really thought about Steve like that before but he’s thinking now and what he’s thinking is that when Steve isn’t stealing his things and laying in his favorite sunbeam, he actually really likes Steve.

“You’re not very good at this,” he informs Steve.

“Yeah, I’m getting that impression.”

“Natasha gave you bad advice.”

“I’m pretty sure she did it on purpose to stir up trouble.”

“She’s worse than either of us,” Tony agrees. “Now, hold still.”

“Wha—” He leans over Steve and licks at his ear, carefully grooming him. Steve purrs beneath him, eyes half-closed with pleasure. Tony’s own eyes drift shut as his heart beats a rhythm to the tune of mine, mine, mine.

~

“Hey, babe,” Tony says, coming up behind Steve. He drapes himself across Steve’s shoulders like the affectionate cat he is, giving a very sharp grin to the young socialite who has been holding onto Steve’s hand for the last minute. Doesn’t she know that that’s Tony’s? “I was wondering where you got off to.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve replies, relaxing now that Tony is here. “Got stopped by Miss—I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

Tony knows Steve well enough to know that that’s absolutely not the case. He’s just saying it to irritate her. But she doesn’t know that, especially because none of them are allowed to be in partial shift for tonight’s gala—Fury’s orders—and Steve’s shifter form is a closely guarded secret. So she doesn’t know that Steve’s just following his instincts as a cat. Tony does though, and he smothers his laugh in Steve’s shoulder.

“Whithers,” the girl says, irritation bleeding into her tone.

“Pleasure,” Tony says, making no attempt to hide the fact that he thinks it’s the opposite. He twines himself around Steve so that he can reach his lips for a quick kiss. “If you don’t mind, I have to borrow Steve here. Although, I really don’t care even if you do mind. See, he’s mine and I don’t really like it when people touch what’s mine.”

And then, before her face can do much more than register shock, he bats her champagne glass out of her hand.

[honeymoonjin]

pairing: namjoon x jimin genre: smut, 18+ readers only word count: 5.1k

summary: namjoon has worked as a bodyguard for an upscale BDSM dungeon for long enough to know that jimin is the most sought-after dom there. it only takes one miscommunication for namjoon to discover firsthand why that is.

warnings: unedited, sexually explicit content, power bottom!jimin, sub top!namjoon, unprotected sex, degradation, light pain play, BDSM dynamics, kinda temperature play, i think that's it but i'm so out of practice so i apologise if i missed something

a/n: this piece came to fruition thanks firstly to the @armyadvocates AAPI Justice and Advocacy initiative, and secondly to the kind commissioner @goldenwallsvol6 on twitter who requested this (i'm so sorry for not including everything you asked for, i got a little carried away kdsjfdssk). please check out the AAPI initiative here, consider donating, and check out the resources that come with it.

-----

Clocking in to work has become such a routine for Namjoon that he often finds himself switching his brain off, preoccupied with half-thoughts as his body runs on autopilot.

He signs in, uses the staff changing room to replace his sweats with the company standard uniform - a tight t-shirt and slim fit jeans, the belt of which he hooks his keys on. He doesn’t actually start his shift for another couple minutes, and so he ducks to the bathroom, chews a breath mint, and stretches before heading out of the office and down the narrow hallway that leads to the den.

In fact, it takes him a few steps into the dungeon before his automatic schedule is disrupted.

It appears Namjoon is entirely alone in the facility.

His steps, taken with heavy-duty boots, echo around the hollow space with nothing but the walls to absorb them. It’s a Thursday night (he consults his phone just to be sure) and he was on the closing shift. On any usual day, he’d be starting work right at the bustling high of the BDSM dungeon, yet he finds himself wandering alone.

Shaped in a rough X, the center of the dungeon is open-plan, with more private spaces forking off. The wing he’s in is generally full of swingers and kinksters making use of costume changing stations and a room full of cleaning supplies and disposables like condoms or wet wipes. It was always the calmest section, but never dead like this.

In a daze, Namjoon glances inside the rooms anyway, half-expecting the place to burst into life at any given moment. But it stays undisturbed, and in no time he’s in the central atrium, weaving through bolted-down couches, benches and racks until he can sink onto a stool at the bar.

Coherent thought escapes him. His brain flails for a reason, but the absurdity of an entirely vacant sex dungeon has him lost for words. After a moment, in restless futility, he stands back up and goes behind the bar, back further into the mini storage/kitchen that he knows features a window.

Outside the narrow, slightly dusty frame is an empty parking lot. His heart sinks, feeling sorely left behind and out of the loop, but a glint catches his eye. Pressing his nose to the glass, he squints and peeks a somewhat familiar vehicle, pulled into the closest park to the entrance of the dungeon.

Namjoon stares pointedly at the Hyundai, racking his brain. God, who was it that had a-

A wooden scrape from behind has Namjoon jumping in violent fright, catching his forehead on the protruding frame of the window. Cursing, he whirls around and glimpses movement further inside. Another drawn-out scrape is followed by a very human-sounding huff.

Heart still racing, Namjoon makes his way out of the storage area and stands behind the bar, seeking out the presence.

“Oh, shit, you gave me a heart attack!” Park Jimin stands off to the left of the room, hands on his hips and head tilted back in relief. “I thought you were a burglar.”

“No,” Namjoon states redundantly, mouth not quite working beyond that. He knew he recognised that silver SUV - every Thursday he watched Jimin hop into it and pull away after a long night of scening. The two had exchanged words often, more than Namjoon could say for most patrons. Being the bouncer for a sex dungeon didn’t lead to that much genuine conversation, but he always appreciated the effort Jimin would put in, hair wet with sweat and lips curved with happy exhaustion but still asking Namjoon if he’d managed to work out whether it was birds or the neighbour’s cat eating his strawberry plants.

He forces himself to check back into the present when current-Jimin cocks his head with a slightly sheepish grin, awaiting an actual explanation. “I, um,” Namjoon stutters, having to avert his eyes to construct anything coherent, “I didn’t realise the club was shut, I’m honestly a little confused.”

Jimin’s smile drops, plush lips rounding in surprise. “Oh, really? Hoseok-hyung said he sent out emails to all the staff. There was a pipe leak so we called off our whole calender until Monday. Did you not get it? We’ve had troubles with work emails getting stuck in spam; something about a sex dungeon really seems to set off the detectors,” the man quips with a jovial lift of his brow.

Namjoon bites down on his tongue, offering up a silent nod of acknowledgement. He’d seen Jimin more times than he could count in black, red, royal purple. In the club he favoured leather, not buckled and studded but sleek and tight, often decorating his lithe body with harnesses, gauntlets and heavy rings instead. More often than not, he’d boast unsmudgable smokey eyes with sharp liner, cheekbones as harsh as they were dewy. It had taken a while, but Namjoon had eventually grown used to the sight, able to prevent chubbing up at the mere sight of his ass as he bent to open his car door.

For some reason, seeing him outside of that whole persona is far more intimidating. Still covered in a light sheen of sweat, that’s the only linker to the Jimin Namjoon is faced with today. He’s got chunky white sneakers weighing down his feet, long overalls rolled up at the cuffs to let some air reach his ankles. The overalls prove particularly problematic to Namjoon, as they don’t seem to have anything underneath. Namjoon can see collarbones, glorious collarbones, and the lean bare sides of Jimin’s torso. If he bent over, Namjoon would probably get a glimpse of his nipples. The thought dampens his mouth with need.

Jimin himself seems unaware of, or at least unbothered by, the way Namjoon stares  him down. Instead, he reaches down to push a cardboard box as tall as his waist across the hardwood floor closer to the bar one shove at a time. “Anyway, you’re welcome to head home. I’ll get Hoseok to add half an hour to your payslip for your troubles.”

“What are you doing here then?” Namjoon asks reflexively, cringing at how loud he’s accidentally pitched his voice.

Jimin’s face is surprisingly round without the stroke of makeup to emphasise dimensions, and when he beams at Namjoon, it softens his whole face even more. “I’m taking advantage of us being closed to install some new furniture. D’you wanna see?” He seems to reconsider, shooting Namjoon a worried look. “It is sex stuff, though.”

“I wasn’t expecting a bookshelf,” he answers honestly, and is rewarded with the bubbling sound of Jimin’s laughter, drowned out prematurely by another shove of the box. “Here,” Namjoon says suddenly, darting out from behind the bar, “let me help.”

At first, Jimin pushes while Namjoon pulls, but after a few grunts of exertion, steps back and lets Namjoon take over, not disguising the way his eyes linger on the way Namjoon’s biceps and pecs flex under his t-shirt sleeve. Obediently, Namjoon lets the bleach-blonde guide him to an open space near the centre of the room, depositing the weighty box there.

With a satisfied hum and a lingering glance at Namjoon’s body, Jimin bends over with a pen from his pocket, using the nib to pop and rip the tape on the box lid, yanking back the flaps with ferocious enthusiasm. He lets out a delighted cry upon lifting a frame of styrofoam out of the box, revealing the goods inside.

One at a time, he takes out oddly-shaped plates of metal, plastic baggies of bolts and screws, and some rubber caps. Kicking the empty box away, Jimin slots his hands back on his hips and grins at Namjoon. “Can you guess what it is?”

Namjoon takes a moment to consider the different sections of stainless steel. The largest isn’t flat, but a rectangle with a slight curve to it, the gentlest arc. The rest come in mirrored pairs, most just for structure, but four of them featuring heavy-duty O-rings. Though he works outside the play area, Namjoon can guess what those are for. “Something for bondage?” he ventures, stomach flipping when Jimin eyes glint with thinly veiled interest.

“A breeding bench,” Jimin explains, squatting to let his fingers trail down the side of one bar, “the metal feels sterile and cold for those that like it. Have you used one before?”

Namjoon feels unsteady on his feet. “No,” he answers, but the softness in his voice betrays his lack of aversion to the thought. But Jimin might think he was a dominant, too, Namjoon worries. Everyone else tended to. “Not yet,” he adds after a moment.

Jimin sucks in a silent but sharp breath, chin lifting. “I could use a hand setting it up. Would you mind…?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah, no problem.” Namjoon tries to clear his throat, but the lump of anticipation remains. “Happy to help.”

“Excellent,” the dom beams, fishing around the pieces of styrofoam to locate the printed instructions, handing them to Namjoon. As Namjoon begins to make sense of them, looking over the basic diagrams, Jimin sits down on a nearby ottoman, intended for viewing the other stations, but continuing to face his new help instead. “I’ve been wanting to get to know you more anyway,” he divulges in a honeyed tone.

“Really?” Namjoon glances up from the instructions, feeling the heat of Jimin’s gaze. Even in worn overalls and unstyled hair, the man strikes a gorgeous image, and his posture screams distinguished dominant down to the curl of his fingers. His mere presence has Namjoon feeling off-balance in the most electric way. “There’s not much to know.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Jimin replies immediately, deadpan. “Why are you standing outside every night when you’re just as kinky as those of us indoors?”

“Excuse me?”

Jimin leans forward, legs splayed wide and elbows on his knees. His eyes are intently focused, blazing. “For a while it drove me crazy,” he starts, “you looked so familiar. I saw you every evening and couldn’t put my finger on it. But you used to scene here, didn’t you? Years ago.”

Namjoon’s heart stops beating, sitting heavy behind his ribs instead. “You- You’re not meant to approach people you know from the dungeon outside. It’s against the rules.”

“We aren’t outside,” Jimin counters. “I want to know why you stopped. You don’t look happy, Namjoon, seeing others come and go while you’re stuck to your post. Help me understand.”

Taking a few deep breaths, Namjoon stays silent, opening his mouth seeming too daunting a task. After a moment, Jimin swallows hard and sits back again, giving up the inquisition. Namjoon chooses to continue the task at hand, consulting the instructions.

The bench itself is a relatively simple setup. There’s two long cuts of steel in an X below the main panel for stability, four legs with the O-ring bars at either end, and the rubber caps on the bottom to avoid scratching the floor. As he putters around with the nuts and bolts, using a tiny spanner provided in the baggies to tighten them, he feels Jimin’s curious gaze on him. Silent.

Eventually, the silence has its desired effect, and Namjoon lets his internal thoughts vocalise. “I played here for a while. My partner and I ended up going our separate ways, and I wanted to give him space.” He doesn’t make eye contact, pulse thudding and heating the pieces of metal he fiddles with.

Jimin takes a short moment to reply, but it feels cavernous. “It’s been years, then. Hasn’t he had enough space yet?”

Namjoon’s eye twitches. How many nights had he stayed up with that exact question in mind? “It doesn’t feel right anymore. People would know me for who I was then. And I’m- I’m not that person.” His partner, an eager sub with a need for a firm hand, had asked Namjoon one day if he was sure he was really happy being a dom, and it had entirely dismantled the place in BDSM that he’d cultivated for himself. That sub was right, and he didn’t know how to adjust his course to fit his true desire.

So he’d pulled away entirely, unable to fully leave this world, but unsure of whether it still had a spot for him inside it. He just wants to feel what it’s like to let go in the way his subs did.  And as his hands focus on constructing the heavyset bench, his mind wanders deeper in this vein, loose-lipped enough to confess it all to Jimin.

Jimin listens without judgement, not even seeming surprised when Namjoon admits to feeling more submissive, and the lack of reaction is liberating in a way he couldn’t have expected.

It’s not until the final bolt is fastened in place and Namjoon leans back, slightly breathless, that Jimin stands up and approaches him again. He crouches in front of Namjoon, eyes tender and hesitant, reaching out a hand.

Confused, Namjoon holds his out, palm-up, and Jimin takes it carefully, circling his fingers around the narrowest part of his wrist. Still, it’s too meaty for Jimin’s fingertips to connect. He squeezes lightly, carefully, before locking his gaze with Namjoon again, who swears he’s no longer breathing.

“Do you want to try?” Jimin asks. His voice is low, soft but full-bodied. “Do you want to try to let go? Club rules would apply.”

And Namjoon is nodding, and the grip on his wrist is tightening, restraining, and Jimin’s surging forward, lips on his.

His free hand comes up to hook around the nape of Namjoon’s neck. He’s held there, unforgiving, as the dom deepens the kiss. There’s no space between them, just skin on skin, tongue on tongue. It’s uncoordinated on Namjoon’s part, but so calculated and thorough on Jimin’s, like he knows the exact way to unwind him.

Jimin’s fingers scratch up into Namjoon’s hairline. He’d been growing out the length a little for winter, just enough to cover his ears, and it provides leverage for Jimin to grip on and tug, tug, tug in sharp bursts, timed unevenly enough that Namjoon is never ready. Every pull sends an electric shock down his spine, right between his legs.

He’s hard already, achingly so, and it just worsens when Jimin shifts his weight, bringing a foot forward and over Namjoon’s thigh, half-caging his body flush against his.

Jimin’s body is hot, even through the denim overalls and searing when it’s skin-on-skin. Namjoon can hear himself panting when their mouths split apart briefly, but he can’t stop his head from spinning long enough to care.

Before long, a rumbling growl escapes Jimin’s throat, and his teeth find Namjoon’s lower lip, scraping and nipping at the flesh. It’s not until Namjoon’s hand is shaking in Jimin’s grip that he pulls away, eyes wild and alight.

Namjoon must look utterly debauched, with swollen lips, hazy eyes and rucked-up hair, but his cock is screaming to be touched, and his breaths become infused with pleas for more, begging Jimin to touch him.

“God, you greedy little thing,” Jimin remarks in wonder, and a shudder takes over Namjoon’s body. Jimin quirks a brow. “Good? Bad? I don’t know what you like.”

“Good,” Namjoon insists without shame, “oh my god, good. Say m-more like that.”

Jimin hums with a grin, hand on Namjoon’s neck slipping around front to fist his shirt, yanking it suddenly. “Up, then,” he barks, standing himself, “I want you on the bench you built for me. Thank God that body is good for something; it’s not much fucking use now, is it?”

Namjoon’s breath leaves him in a rush, and he gets up shakily, almost tripping over his own feet as he lowers himself back down on the end of the bench. It’s chillingly cold even through his jeans, and he trembles at the thought of touching it with bare skin. Jimin has no such qualms, however, planting his palm on Namjoon’s chest and pushing him backwards, insistently guiding him down without knocking his head on the metal.

His teeth chatter briefly, but it’s nothing compared to when Jimin clicks his tongue and reaches down to strip the thin fabric of his t-shirt off with one fell swoop, the stitches breaking as they’re forced over the broadest part of his shoulders.

Ice erupts across his back and he gasp, shooting up. Jimin’s hand prevents him from getting far, and his breathing grows loud and sharp, shivering violently as his body fights to warm up the steel. The slight arch of it slots perfectly into the divot of his spine, meaning every inch is flush against him.

“You stay where I put you,” Jimin scolds, flicking at a nipple in punishment. “It’s pathetic, isn’t it? You, lying here, asking to be degraded by somebody half your size? Pathetic. You’re lucky I’m a giving man.”

“Th-thank you,” Namjoon offers up with wide eyes. He doesn’t know the protocol, doesn’t even know how he should be acting as a sub, let alone as a sub for Jimin. He can barely believe the situation he’s ended up in, but he’s never felt so alive. The cold steel is a wakeup call to sluggish veins, his blood rushing faster than ever, most of it going straight to his dick.

Jimin huffs like he’s not quite pleased with the response - even as his eyes crinkle and glint with satisfaction - and simply hooks a finger into the waistband of Namjoon’s jeans, frowning. “Can’t even get undressed yourself. For goodness’ sake.”

Namjoon’s cheeks burn, and he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling so overwhelmed. Though it was years ago, the habit of being in control hasn’t left him, and part of him feels anxious being so vulnerable. Closing his eyes eases that, and Jimin lets him, briefly reaching up to give his upper arm a squeeze, a lilting hum asking the unworded question.

“I’m okay,” he breathes to the darkness behind his eyelids, and the squeeze returns before Jimin straightens up again, fingers yanking impatiently at Namjoon’s jeans, undoing them and yanking them off, taking his briefs with them.

The new level of nudity sends another shock of cold to his system, but this time Namjoon welcomes it with a groan, tilting his hips up so that his cock rests on his lower stomach. His fingers twitch, aching to wrap around himself.

His desire is answered, not with the delicious grip of fingers, but with the hard press of the heel of Jimin’s palm, pinning his hardness down without mercy. A moan dies in Namjoon’s throat as his body tries to curl inwards. A second hand holds him down still, leaving him unable to escape the heavy pressure.

He pants, writhing and toes curling, but Jimin just sighs softly, like he’s more relaxed than ever. “Such a waste,” he drawls, his voice blooming with all the flourishes of a Disney villain, “wanting to be treated like a slut, but what am I getting out of this? Hm?”

“U-uh-” Namjoon has no idea what to say, cracking his eyes open to seek out the comfort of acknowledgement above the level of the scene. His breath is taken away at the sight. Jimin, above him like an avenging angel, golden-haired and glittering with sweat, still fully clothed (as fully as you could call a single piece of denim). He finds Namjoon’s searching gaze and sends him a calm, dreamy smile of encouragement, before twisting his palm against the base of Namjoon’s dick, wringing a strangled groan out of the man. “You can take me,” he pants, filled with the urge to provide, to serve, “take what you want.”

Jimin tilts his head to the side, like this proposition is worth considering. As he makes a show of pondering, he taps his fingers lazily against his cock’s dripping head. Namjoon swallows the whimpers that threaten to bubble up, and forces his hips not to budge. “I’ll be honest with you,” Jimin says finally, “because you don’t deserve sugar-coating. If I was here with a fleshlight or a dildo, I would’ve come already. You’re wasting my precious time, sweet boy. I don’t want you to lay here and simper, I want you to be a good toy for me. So what’s it gonna be?”

Namjoon’s muscles are trembling; from his lips to his toes, he feels like he’s vibrating slightly, restless down to the very atoms that make him up. Jimin is patient, lazily drawing sticky patterns of precum on Namjoon’s abdomen with his pinky finger. Namjoon fights against the primal part of his brain for something coherent, replaying his words. Fleshlight or dildo. Be a good toy. Jimin was offering him the choice to top or bottom, Namjoon realises, and his cock twitches, feeling liberated and thoroughly taken apart with that heady mix of submission and power. He was giving control to Jimin, but never losing his choices.

For a moment, he does consider what it might feel like to let Jimin take him. He’d never bottomed before - at least not for anyone but his own fingers in his experimental years - but if anyone could make him feel safe, he suspected it would be the dom leaning over him. It’s once he really thinks about it that he knows he’s not ready, a thin strand of dread winding around his lungs that won’t go away until he’s stammering to Jimin that he can have Namjoon’s cock if he wants it.

Jimin sucks in a slow, pleased breath, a smile curling at his lips as he lays the weight of Namjoon’s length across the palm of his hand, looking it over. The chill of the steel beneath him is nothing compared to the iced shiver that runs through him upon being inspected in his most private area. Second most private, he corrects. Baby steps.

“I suppose,” Jimin declares finally with a sigh, “this should do. Not winning any awards, though, is it?” Namjoon’s cheeks burn with shame at the comment even as his face scrunches up in disagreement. If there was one thing to be proud of physically, it was that he could always bring his partners pleasure with the equipment he grew into.

Jimin sees the unfiltered reaction on Namjoon’s face and suddenly claps his free hand over his mouth, turning away. The giggle, impish and delicate, doesn’t get as muffled as he probably intended. “Dammit,” he mumbles, “stop being funny, that’s not fair.”

Namjoon blinks, still stark naked and hard as rock beneath the clothed and chuckling dom. “...Apologies,” he says after a pause, “but do you want to- um- are we-”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jimin says, clearing his throat and wiggling the muscles in his cheek to force the smile down. His fingers reach nimbly for the straps that hold his set of overalls on, and undresses down to skin as he takes some deep breaths as if to hype himself back into character. Once he’s done, he swings a leg over the metal bench and straddles Namjoon’s thighs with a swiftness that takes his breath away.

While it may take Jimin a second to slip back into his dom headspace after the break in mood, all Namjoon needs is the feeling of Jimin’s plump ass cheeks settling onto hs lap and he’s being smacked in the face with submission, ready to beg to feel it more intimately.

Jimin doesn’t wait for him to beg, however, rolling his body forward and down, all the way until their cocks are pinned together between their stomachs, and their noses bump. Close enough to kiss, Jimin stays right there, a breath away, and Namjoon freezes, unsure if he’s allowed to close the gap.

Pleased with the restraint shown, Jimin smirks, eyes wandering over Namjoon’s face in pure bemusement, slightly cross-eyed with their proximity. “Most toys can’t kiss back,” he mentions, a hand sliding up Namjoon’s forearm and shoulder to thumb at his jaw, tilting his head back and holding it in place, “so I figure I might as well treat myself.”

“Most?” is the final worried exclamation Namjoon manages to get out before lips are descending on his, and heat erupts.

There’s no way Namjoon could keep up. Not when his face is pressed tightly to Jimin’s, lips nipped at, tongue sucked at, and mouth thoroughly explored. Not when every inch of his front is pressed to Jimin’s, the latter’s nipples hard against the soft, relaxed flesh of Namjoon’s chest. Not when he becomes aware of slow rocking, Jimin grinding their cocks together.

It takes him an unknowable eternity of this to realise that the slow, indulgent groans passed between them aren’t all his, and that Jimin’s shifting motions are brought on by the way he’s reached behind himself with a finger slick with their shared spit, working himself open.

It’s that realisation that becomes the last straw for any of Namjoon’s reserves. He feels so - so passive, not even prepping the man who’s about to take his cock. He’s lying on unforgiving steel, body used as a grinding post and mouth deeply plundered, just a mindless toy, dumbed down to pleasure and need. He isn’t even really aware of his own body where Jimin isn’t touching it; he isn’t too sure where in space his hands are, or what his feet are doing. His lips are for Jimin and his cock is for Jimin and that’s enough to make him light-headed.

When Jimin sits up, Namjoon grunts a bit and fights for some clarity to help line himself up against Jimin’s awaiting body, but the dom just tuts and rebuffs the advances, suiting himself. Part of his weight is on Namjoon’s right shoulder as he props himself up, slowly bearing the rest down so that the head of Namjoon’s cock pushes inside.

The moan that leaves Jimin’s mouth is enough to make Namjoon’s bones shake, wishing he could hear it on repeat, and the dom certainly seems to be doing his best to make it a reality with the enthusiastic way he works his hips down in tight circles, clenching around the intrusion.

Namjoon feels like he’s floating, the hard edges of steel no longer grounding him. He doesn’t lift his hands up to hold onto Jimin, he doesn’t fuck up into him, he’s barely even looking at him with how low his eyes are lidded, but there’s liberation in that inaction.

The pressure to perform is entirely lifted, and he feels the pleasure twofold, once from his own sensation and then again like an echo with every sigh and groan that leaves Jimin’s lips.

The dom has the stamina of an athlete, lifting a leg up onto the metal base beside Namjoon’s hips to gain better leverage, and Namjoon has a front row seat to the way the muscles in Jimin’s thighs flex. They’re corded and thick, such an erotic contrast to the softness of his ass, and Namjoon feels drunk off of it.

He lets Jimin take what he wants, and he feels, and that’s all.

He doesn’t even think, not really, nothing deeper than mindless observation.

Jimin is beautiful, like nobody he’d seen before, and the lack of makeup and unstyled hair certainly doesn’t change that. It’s a reminder that he’s real, and that he’s sharing this experience with Namjoon. He sits up, leaning backwards with a hand on Namjoon’s knee instead of his shoulder, and the first time he plunges down, his whole body is wracked with a violent tremor.

“I’m close,” he pants outs, eyes flicking down to Namjoon, a lazy grin appearing momentarily, onto to be knocked off by an expression of pure euphoria as he swaps the bouncing out for grinding. He rocks his hips back and forth, Namjoon buried deeply inside, and seeks out his own end irrelevant of the body that cock belongs to.

Namjoon doesn’t care, loves the near out-of-body experience he’s having, and wills the pleasure to simmer long enough for Jimin to come first.

When Jimin gets really close, he loses some of the fluidity in his movements and becomes jagged, seizing up more and more until he’s stock still, breaths staccato and mouth wide open. The physical release follows soon after, and Namjoon shudders as hot white paints the underside of his chin and his chest.

Jimin has a hand around himself, tugging out every last drop as he sucks in desperate lungfuls of air, slowly curling in on himself until his burning forehead is on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, chest heaving.

Namjoon reaches his end without even noticing. The pleasure throughout his whole body is so electric that an orgasm is barely a notch higher, more so a spreading warmth throughout his body. Wet where Jimin’s still joined to him, and damp everywhere else with perspiration, but it’s blissful nonetheless.

Jimin heaves himself back upright after a brief interlude, brows furrowed as he glances down at Namjoon. “Did you- oh,” he remarks, shifting a little and seeing the cum that’s split around the base of Namjoon’s cock. He lets out a deep sigh, eyes slipping closed for a moment as he tips his head back. “Okay, bye-bye dom.”

Namjoon’s mind slips back into awareness at a snail’s pace, feeling first the way his throat has dried up a little and his jaw hurts from clenching his teeth. Then his voice comes back to him, and he coughs a little, blinking up at the dom above him. “Does dom have a return date by chance? That was… fucking incredible,” he admits.

Jimin laughs, the action causing him to clench around Namjoon. With playful fingers, he reaches down and lightly pinches the fat of Namjoon’s cheeks. “You’re too cute,” he declares, before lifting himself up and off, clicking his tongue at the rush of wetness that drips down his legs. “Far out, it’s like you haven’t nutted in a year.”

Namjoon feels his cheeks heat against his best intentions. “That’s just normal.”

Jimin sends him a sharp look, searching his face. “Holy fuck,” he muses, stalking over to the nearest station to raid a small drawer of wet wipes, “and you’ve been letting that beast sit out in the cold every night instead of coming in here? Masochist.”

It takes all the energy left in his body to sit up, but Namjoon gratefully accepts a fresh wad of wipes and begins to clean himself off. “The beast doesn’t pay the bills,” he quips, already feeling more casual with Jimin after their intense shared experience.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to enjoy its company on your free time,” Jimin offers up, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze with what appears to be a shy streak as he dresses himself.

Namjoon smiles, appreciating the gorgeous sight of Jimin’s body before he covers up. Appreciating even more the way he feels so comfortable in his presence, enough to let go the way he did. “I’d like that.”

[jayfrost-designs]

Yellowfang has always been one of my favorite Warriors characters of all time (she was less enjoyable as a StarClan cat, but you can pry pre-StarClan Yellowfang from my cold, dead hands ), and her ref sheet's been looking old and outdated for a while, so now that her son's gotten an updated sheet (and she got an updated look on the Prophecies Begin design challenge), I figured it was time for Yellowfang to get one too. So here's the new and improved Yellowfang!

You can find the reverse side of her design here.

For her physical description, Yellowfang is described as a skinny, battle-scarred, grizzled she-cat with wide-set, rheumy, rounded eyes; a broad, flattened face; a snub nose; bony haunches; long, dull, patchy, thick, matted fur; torn and ragged ears; and cracked, blackened yellow teeth. I used this image of a Persian cat as a reference. I don't condone the breeding of snub-nosed cats or dogs, as it gives these cats a whole slew of health problems and breathing problems - but I can't deny that they're fun to draw. I had a lot of fun trying to get across both Yellowfang's size and crazy-thick pelt as well as her scrawniness and general lack of meat on her bones. Her flat snub face was a lot of draw too. Her scars are about the same as before. I think it kinda works that, while they're both snub-nosed cats, there's actually quite a bit of difference in Yellow and Broken's builds, which probably helped the Clan not suspect their connection.

For her pattern, Yellowfang is described as a dark gray she-cat with orange eyes. I used the same colors I had for her in the Prophecies Begin design challenge, though I lightened her nose color a bit.

Overall, I'm really happy with how this turned out.  I think she looks great, and just how I always pictured her!

[always-andromeda]

MISS COFFEE BEAN I SLEPT FOR ALMOST 13 HOURS💀💀💀 I hope you have rested well, Miss Coffee Bean💖💖💖

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSRrDor8V/?k=1

Love, Brewster 💖💖

-🍼

Ps. Remember to take breaks and drink lots of water💖💖💖😚🤗

YESSSS, so happy for you!! Current sleep schedule is me getting a random three to five hours at a time? Which 100% isn’t healthy, I’m aware! But hey, c’est la vie!

( also thank you for the lovely tiktok, as always. I love how flat faced cats look but I always feel bad knowing that they’re like a special breed because they automatically have breathing problems 🥺 like god I love cats but god I hate living in a world where we’ve bred animals that suffer just for aesthetic purposes?? sorry if that was weirdly heavy?? )

[feralfens]

not to have had genetic science as a special interest for a bit, but people taking the acronym GMO and assuming it just means like, scifi style labratory evil science makes me like irrationally angry.

like okay so thw acronym: Genetically modified organism.

what that means: the genes (the code that the majority of living things have, to my knowledge) of an organism (literally anything alive is an organism its like the most basic way to say "everything including bacteria, fungi and elephants" because those are alll such different catagories and stuff) are modified (changed, directly or indirectly for a specific outcome).

how that works: so theres actually more than one way for genetic modification to occur but the most basic was is selective breeding and domestication. so like, if you have a pet cat or have a garden with onions or potatoes. those are genetically modified organisms. ESPECIALLY if either of them come from a linage that was specifically breed for specific traits.

but like, a lot of people dont realise that so theyll be all Ooh im only gonna eat specific foods that had a label that says its non gmo even though like. the majority of food that is farmed is a domesticated species and has been a gmo (which like, gmos arent inherently bad!! genetic modification just fuckin is!!!) longer than the genes that came to exist as you have been a possibility.

"but arent there still bad uses of genetic modification?" YES, like how pugs or bull dogs or those flat faced cats were all bred to have fucked up noses so now they have breathing problems. THATS a bad use of genetic modification. however a group of plant nerds working to get tomatoes that are hardier and can grow in most climates and wont fuck up the soil arent gonna poison you and your kids.

ALSO some plants will genetically modify themselves via cross pollenation. thats how we got some species of citrus!

TL;DR: GMO doesnt stand for an evil dude in a lab coat with a giant machine injecting a bunch of fruits and meats with evil gene juices. if you have a pet dog or a house plant from a store, youve got a genetically modified organism.

[reshiram]

quick fyi to read before rb’ing pictures of certain cats

hey, so there’s been multiple posts about this in the past but i don’t think i’ve seen one that compiles the information about all three of these cats in one place. it’s not common knowledge and i know a lot of us see a cat and slam rb but i’m asking you to read this if you post cat content.

i’ll try to keep this super short, but i do not recommend posting images of scottish folds, persians/himalayans, and white tigers.

scottish folds were created due to a genetic mutation that affected bone cartilage. the problem arises when you breed two scottish folds together, as it causes the litter of kittens to have two copies of the gene. this leads to scottish folds having a hereditary joint disease (scroll down to ‘special medical concerns’) most of the time because people do not abide by this rule.

i will note that kittens are born with folded ears so just because you see a young cat with folded ears does not mean it is a scottish fold, look for the other traits first.

persians and himalayans (as well as any other flat-faced cat) sport a similar issue. like pugs, they are referred to as brachycephalic and they have trouble breathing and can even have their brains compressed due to the shape of their skull.

white tigers, while not a domestic breed or anything, are still the target of many aesthetic photosets. they’re literally a cash grab and bred by human hands for the sake of being pretty. white tigers are no longer left in the wild so therefore every white tiger you see was inbred. with that said, the white tigers that end up being born with a lot of problems because of how they’re bred never see the light of day which only perpetuates the illusion that white tigers are normal and healthy.

with this said, please think before you rb cats such as these.

[followthebluebell]

are there any problems with the cats you get that look like Mac and Potato? their flat faces make it seem like they'd have trouble eating and they look like they have constant eye discharge

oh yeah, they gotta have their eye channels cleaned daily.  They don’t have any problems eating, thankfully; Mac is a messy eater, but so is Roomba.  They both manage to smear their food all around the bowl somehow.  but that’s honestly the least of the issues with them.

My bigger concern is their breathing.  Cats with flat faces tend to snuffle and snort constantly, because they just can’t breathe very well.  Persians and Exotic shorthairs have a well-deserved reputation for being very sweet-natured and low energy.  They’re the kind of cat who wants to sleep almost all day.  A part of me wonders how much of that was bred into them and how much of it is due to their unique anatomy and possible breathing restrictions.

overall, i don’t encourage the breeding of severely brachy cats.  i love my horrible office muppets, but i don’t consider it ethical to create more of them.