#amazoniankitten

Aint this a masturbation phrase tho

@asinningcat

Genos knew she was there just in time so he didn’t drop the bag of groceries he’d been carrying, as she jumped in front of him.

Carefully he set the bag to the side and offered a bright smile.

Send “Look” for my muse to describe your muse’s eyes in the most descriptive way they can

#amaishurt

This is more entertaining than the show.

He was surprised to say the least, people usually avoided him. Especially once they knew who he was and exactly who he worked for and trained under. So when she approached, he expected a job request. Not....something about a national kissing holiday. Which sounds made up to him, but who knew? People celebrated he oddest things.

It’s equally confusing as to why she’d chosen him of all people, even if she didn’t know who he was, a cloaked stranger sitting alone in the shade wouldn’t have put off a friendly or welcoming vibe to anyone. 

Yet here she was.

Was it a trap? Maybe she was some sort of demon and a kiss would bind him to something. Was she hiding a weapon to kill him with when he got close enough, was her skin poisonous? Was there someone watching, ready to strike? The witchling sighs and closes the book he’d been reading. There were too many possibilities to sit here and think about all day.  So, without removing his hood or half-mask, he looks up and blows her a kiss in lieu of moving or touching.

@asinningcat

@amazoniankitten

Having heard the other approach, Vincent isn’t too surprised when they speak to him, but the question does catch him off guard. He had expected something about his cloak, or his exposed arms, or even the heavy tome he had beside him. Looking up from his phone, so does her appearance, a lovely dark-skinned person with slit eyes cat ears and if he’s seeing right, a tail. They’re moving too, so unless they’re very advanced fakes, he’s looking at an honest to goodness cat-girl. Cat woman? Cat Man? …Cat….Person. A cat pretty cat person who looks frazzled, reminding him of mothers with rowdy children.

Not something you see every day.

Then again, neither was he so he has no room to judge, looking up at them, Vincent thinks back a few hours. he had seen a few cats, most were obvious strays, and he’d fed them all. He remembered the kitten distinctly, it had been puffed up, half muddy and mewling at the top of its lungs. it had calmed down when he had given it the last piece of chicken from his boxed salad but had ultimately run away when he had tried to pick it up and take it home with him. Chicken still in its tiny little mouth.