We are not meant to be

Hypnotic alien tentacles transform some thylacine guy who was just trying to clean up his house. Explicit.

Jay was happy enough that even with his hands covered in dirt and his fur damp with sweat, he was still smiling. A month ago, he'd gotten fed up with the mess in his small flat. Two weeks ago, a slow-burning desire to clean up had sprouted into a white-hot flame. And now things were great. He'd even put plants in his house. On purpose. And he was watering them. It was amazing.