Kittenflavored

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 75
Theme: none
Time spent: didn't time :'3





Comments: gaia avatar

erase marks for added charm. Not digitally edited at all aside from brightening for visibility(of said erase marks).  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 76
Theme: none
Time spent: 42ish minutes





Comments: just beautified the pencil art. More editing later.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 77
Theme: none
Time spent: I haven't been timing my traditional art ;n;





Comments: this is Kevin, the other protag of Under The Same Stars. He is (obviously) a large, scary fedora-wearing neckbeard. He is Ruse’s bestie, but he has a huge crush on her. He thinks he can win her with ‘niceness’ even though she is 100% gay.

I'm intending to make this into a tarot card if possible. Kevin’s tarot card is “The Fool” lol

I actually recently wrote a lot more of this story. I’m about 2/5 the way done with it. ;u; I want to post it only after it’s entirely done, then I can worry about future drafts.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 78
Theme: none
Time spent: 43ish minutes





Comments: working on this solely because I’m gonna attempt to do cyan and pale blue lighting and I think it’ll look cool.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 79
Theme: none
Time spent: 1hr ish





Comments: I don’t think I know how to draw especially dramatic lighting.

Oh well though because this is done. To reiterate, this is Jared's death scene. June kills him, sort of.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 80
Theme: none
Time spent: 25ish minutes





Comments: I think I succeeded in making her look more adult, because she is in her 20s regardless of her petiteness. Probably gonna try to draw a Miyazaki style bus stop behind her, but if I fail, gonna stitch together something.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 81
Theme: none
Time spent: 25ish minutes





Comments: I tried to put some images together from google yesterday to make an acceptable bus stop so I wouldn't have to draw one, but my efforts wanted to fight me so I just drew one instead.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 82
Theme: none
Time spent: 40ish minutes





Comments: Finally done. I’m just gonna pass off my inability to leave dark skin tones dark onto the fact that darker skin tends to be more reflective than lighter skin >:(

This is Ruse, one of the two protags of Under The Same Stars. When she meets Kevin, she’s just getting off a charter bus to Japantown(a fictional one), there to escape her recently dumped ex, and to find a potential ladyfriend. First, she finds Kevin to be super creepy(he is), but she warms up to him when he offers her a free place to stay and a job with “no strings attached”.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 83
Theme: none
Time spent: 40ish minutes





Comments: just working on this JSE page I started like 10 days ago. I was gonna draw Angel(the cat) sitting on Satan’s lap Dr. Evil style but instead I might just draw her Dr. Evil-ing separately as its own art piece.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 84
Theme: none
Time spent: did not time, but it's 1442 words

show spoilerhide spoiler

CHAPTER FIVE: THE WORLD

Henry stood over the 3D printer, watching attentively as it deposited layer upon layer onto his special project. The instructions for said project filled the screen of a computer in the opposite corner of the evidence cage. He had used the evidence cage at his police station as an office for several months now; it kept most of his fellow officers off of his back. And though printing a firearm wasn’t necessarily illegal, it was heavily frowned upon by his colleagues. He knew at some point they would accuse him of mishandling police technology, but they didn’t understand that he _needed _this. And his needs were more important than their stupid rules.

He had never before used the 3D printer, but he knew he had to so he could put his plan to rid the world of a Fool in motion. In the late hours of the previous night, he had searched for a few hours on Bing, and ultimately had chosen to print a Glock. Such a weapon would work perfectly to exterminate any foolhardy individual who got in between himself and the girl who thought she could get away.

Suddenly, his phone in his butt pocket buzzed, taking him out of his obsession for just a moment. It was the familiar sound of an Amber alert. Why people had to go losing their brats while he was in the middle of something so important was beyond him, but he pulled out the phone and opened the notification.

He recognized the name. Blake Van Dyke. That was his only cousin Breanna’s baby boy.

“Hmmm.”

The gears of his mind churned until something clicked. This was a perfect excuse to give if a suspicious fellow officer walked in on him up to no good in the evidence cage.

“Kepler? What are you doing?”

“Dude,” Henry promptly responded to his lieutenant in comfortable tone, already trying to deescalate things, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” He put the phone back into his butt pocket.

“Are you printing a damn sidearm?” The lieutenant crossed his arms. In a somewhat parental way, non-threatening and genuinely concerned, he continued, “is there something you need to tell me? Is this about those dreams you’ve been having?”

Henry said nothing for a moment, he just kept his eyes fixed on the printing process. The little noises of the machine’s movement occupied the pause while he considered how best to redirect the conversation. The lieutenant was very expectant, after all.

“It’s about my cousin, Bre,” Henry lied. He didn’t want to talk about the dreams—they _weren’t _just dreams, they were visions. They were reality. He _saw _Ruse with The Fool. Nobody had taken him seriously, and he wasn’t going to let them think he was out of his mind, so this would be about Breanna on paper. “She’s been getting a lot of harassment these past few days. I been thinkin’ of heading down to Japantown where she lives, to check up on her. She’s a pole dancer ‘n all. She got haters.”

“Bro, that is a _severe _conflict of interest,” the lieutenant protested.

“I know. I’m not gonna use the gun. Honestly, bro, I’m just havin’ it printed as a collection piece. You know how I am about my guns.” Henry had been an avid collector of antique and unique guns since university, and his fellow officers and superiors knew about it. That helped with his excuse. “I just need something to focus on to keep my mind anchored in the now.” He glimpsed quickly to see if the other man believed him. The lieutenant looked unsure. “Besides, I haven’t visited my family since uni, it’d be good for me to catch up with Breanna.”

“I’ll speak to the chief about it, but don’t get your hopes up. He’s worried about you too.” They shared a tense few seconds of eye contact, then the lieutenant turned away to leave. “I won’t tell him about what you’re doing in here, but he _will _find out, man. You gotta keep your personal and work life separate, for your own health.”

“Wait,” Henry stopped him before he exited the cage. “Ask him if I can get permission to use the MDF software again. It’s about Breanna, my cousin. Her son is missing, I just wanna help her out.”

“You shoulda started with that, but sure, man.”

But he had no intention of helping Breanna or her little goblin of a son. Mobile device forensic software would continue to be an invaluable tool to aid him in finding Ruse.

* * * * *

Even in her dreams, Ruse could not escape Henry’s watchful eyes. She wanted to wake up; she hated that she couldn’t feel safe even in her own mind.

In the dream, she looked around. Henry was excitedly pulling her by the wrist towards an enormous red brick building standing out against the murky gray sky. It was the Military Historical Museum of Artillery, Engineers and Signal Corps in Saint Petersburg, Russia. There were old tanks and cannons of various size and variety in the grass on either side of the path up to the entrance, and they all made Ruse very uncomfortable.

This nightmare took her back to the summer after their first university semester together. Henry had forced her to purchase a passport to go with him out of the country, even though she wasn’t exactly fond of the military, or space and astrophysics, or engineering and technology, or Henry himself... But he wanted so badly for her to see this fancy-shmancy ‘space pistol’ the Russkies made for the cosmonauts when they landed, so they could survive in the Siberian wilderness or something like that. Ruse was slowly learning to tune out all his space-talk at that point in their relationship. Keeping track with his blabber was such a chore.

Inside the museum, Henry, clad in one of his many NASA t-shirts, led her from display to display until they reached a certain ‘TP-82 Soviet combination pistol’, a strange little firearm under a glass case. Ruse didn’t see anything special about it; to her, it just looked dumb and flimsy. Definitely not a sight worth the hundreds of dollars it took to get her there.

Henry looked around to see if there were any other visitors or guards nearby, then rammed the force of his entire elbow onto the glass. It came out of nowhere, and there were no signs he would ever do something so rash leading up to this point.

Immediately, an alarm sounded. The glass didn’t budge an inch, and Henry’s arm made a noise like it had popped painfully out of place somewhere. Ruse began to panic. She backed away from him with her hands halfway up in case a curator showed up intending to arrest her for being a part of Henry’s stupid decision to try to steal foreign military museum property. Several men in dark uniforms grabbed Henry and began to drag him out. A tall gray haired white woman gently grasped Ruse by the arm and began to speak to her in Russian. Ruse had no idea what was happening, so she just began to babble a plea in English, the only language she properly spoke.

The couple was escorted back outside, Henry kicking and spitting and screaming that he ‘needed’ that gun, that he was the descendant of Johannes Kepler for ******** sake, that without _his _ancestor, there wouldn’t be a gun in their stupid museum to begin with! More words about space information and technology and a ‘birthright’ were spewed, but Ruse’s ears were ringing, and she kept her face down, embarrassed as hell.

They both received a permanent ban from the museum, which Ruse was honestly grateful for. She was ready to hide under a blanket for the rest of her life in shame. Henry, on the other hand, vowed to return to Russia and take back the product of his ancestor’s hard work, the space gun of which he supposedly was the rightful owner.

During the flight back home, Henry continued his downward spiral into absurdity, loudly insisting that he was the coolest, most fearless person on the planet for his attempted crime against those poor Russian space nerds. He asked Ruse multiple times if she was impressed with him being such a courageous and noble guy, to which Ruse responded with silence and contemplation of the whole relationship, all of which Henry was too absorbed in himself to even realize.

And yet, even after such a drastic display of a red flag, she remained with him for over a year afterward.

Comments: this is what I have written of Ch5 -the most recent chapter- of Under The Same Stars. I intend for there to be about 10 chapters total when I’m done. I have only gone over this chapter to edit and refine once and have not given it to a friend for critique yet so it’s not as great as it could be, not that I consider my writing to be great lol
also, the italics are gone and I don't wanna re-add them ;u;  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 85
Theme: none
Time spent: didn't time, it's 2605 words

show spoilerhide spoiler

“Hey hobos, wake up!”
Ruse awoke with a crunch of a snore and looked around groggily. Astra awoke behind her in a similar daze and grunted “who’s there?”
“You’re not supposed to be here! This building’s getting demolished in a few hours!”
Ruse’s vision came back into focus and she saw a man standing in the doorway of the courthouse where she had just been sound asleep with her lady-friend Astra and bestie Kevin. The man looked of Indian descent, light skinned with jet black hair pulled back into an enormous poofy ponytail hanging down his back. A thin but equally inky black well-trimmed beard framed his face. He was dressed in casual clothing: a rust colored plaid button up shirt, jean carpenter shorts, and flip flops on his feet. What looked like solid gold rings adorned his ears, nose and fingers. He was glancing over the few items spread out between the three: Astra’s backpack, the button lamp, Ruse’s bookbag purse and merchandise bag, Kevin’s banjo… “I’m the building inspector. You guys need to pack up your s**t and leave.”
The three grumbled in a shared fatigue, but all got up and began to gather their things. None of them had rested up enough to protest. Ruse felt as if she had hardly slept, even though it was daylight now and she had fallen asleep when it was dark. “What time is it?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Six forty-five,” said the inspector from his same spot in the doorway. It hadn’t been more than an hour or two, then. “It’s coming down at nine sharp. You better hurry.”
“Can I take these towels?” Astra asked, holding up one of the towels she had slept under with Ruse. “I found them in the janitor closet.”
“Take a guess.”
Astra dropped the towel and sighed.
Ruse spritzed herself with perfume to fight the smell grime on her skin. Astra put her long blonde hair back up in a high ponytail with some strays sneaking around the side of her face, then she caught the aroma of the perfume. “Ohh…can you spray me too?” Ruse sprayed her. Now they both smelled like orange blossom.
“If you’re done wasting my time, follow me.”
He led the three out the front doors, which had the wooden boards previously nailed to them removed. There was a hammer and a few nails on the cement just outside the entrance. The inspector picked up the hammer and held it over his shoulder and held his other hand up to his brow to block out the sun. He took in a breath of the crisp morning air and turned to the three squatters behind him. They looked so frumpy and dejected with their few belongings on the ground at their feet.
“You’re so lucky I found you. Much better me than that,” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder to a huge crane with a wrecking ball hanging from it behind him on the street. Sunlight sparkled through the rungs. “Imagine getting woke up by that crashing through the room you’re asleep in!”
“She said it wasn’t coming down just yet!” Kevin snapped, referring to Astra.
Both the girls scowled at him. It was as if he wasn’t even trying to be nice, like he said he would.
None of this was the building inspector’s problem, though. He laughed to himself then turned on his heel, slipped the hammer through a loop in his shorts, and strode down the walkway toward a large windowless white van that was parked directly in front of the crane. “Welp,” he said without turning back, “I hope you three can find a new place to stay!”
A sudden buzzing and high pitched beeping broke the angry tension between Kevin and the two girls.
“Is that your phone?” Ruse accused Kevin, the pitch of her voice up a few notches. She pinched the bridge of her nose in aggravation. “Why do I even bother…”
“I knew you couldn’t get rid of the porn,” Astra cackled quietly.
Kevin blushed in embarrassment, then pulled the phone from his breast pocket. There was an Amber alert. He told Ruse as much, but it didn’t change her mood one bit. She grabbed the phone from his hand and examined the image and description. The alert depicted a black boy, no older than ten, with a woman hugging him from behind and peeking over the top of his head.
“Holy s**t,” she said, looking back up at Kevin. “Blake Van Dyke. This is Breanna’s son.”
“Whatchu call me?” Astra teased in regards to the child’s last name. “Kidding, who’s Breanna?” She placed her arm on Ruse’s shoulder and smirked at her. “You got that much game?”
“I’ve never heard of any ‘Breanna’,” Kevin added, sounding much less excited. “Somebody you know?”
“Well…” Ruse handed him back his phone, “Breanna is Henry’s cousin. I found her on Facebook when I was still dating him…she’s a stripper at that club with the stupid name across town…she was kind of my…gay awakening…” The last part sounded somewhat like a question, as if she wanted to appear more innocent than she was when it came to her attraction to Breanna.
“Oh, so the real reason you came to live here?” Astra continued to tease.
“What are the odds of this happening?” Kevin asked, mostly to himself.
“Crazy,” came a reply from the building inspector. The three looked over to see him not yet at his white van. He was fully facing them again. “I can’t believe she didn’t name him ‘Omaha’. That’s so like her.”
“Excuse me?” Ruse asked.
“Breanna’s my ex-girlfriend. We’re not on good terms, really. ‘Blake’,” he put up air quotes, “is my son.” Then the sudden realization that this meant his supposed ‘son’ was missing came over him quite visibly. “I need to find him! Sat sri akal, my friends!”
“Let me help!” Ruse quickly shouted, reaching her hands out in case he was about to run off. If she could keep Astra from running off after being caught stealing, she certainly could keep this man around to help her find safety. She didn’t have any other plans anyways, and she didn’t want to put the stress of providing shelter back on Kevin or Astra. “We never got properly introduced, I’m Ruse. Hi.”
“...Pradeep,” said the man, sounding unsure. He made his way back over to the group of three and took a peek at Kevin’s phone. The look on his face after seeing the little boy showed to the others that he was truly concerned.
“And I’m Astra,” said Astra, sticking her hand out. She dropped it back to her side after receiving confused glances from her audience.
“Breanna is my ex’s cousin,” Ruse said. “My ex is trying to find me and he’s got all this police technology available to him ‘cause he’s a cop and he’s dangerous and we’re trying to stay away from him.” She felt as if she had already repeated this spiel enough to have it memorized, but saying it out loud again just made it feel more real and scary. She went on, trying to make the situation less about her problems and more about finding Blake. Perhaps if Pradeep thought she was more considerate of his problems, he’d be less iffy. “If you can help us get to Breanna, maybe I can get you back on her good side? She might find it sweet that you helped little ol’ me.”
“Maybe she can talk some sense into your ex,” Kevin added.
“That too,” Ruse said.
“You’re not hobos?” Pradeep asked.
“She is,” Kevin said, eyeing Astra. “Me ‘n Ruse have homes and jobs.”
“No, we’re not hobos,” Ruse corrected Kevin. “Please, I know we’re strangers, but I promise we’re good people. We just don’t have any place safe to hide and we could really use your help right now. I promise we won’t be a burden. Once I can just talk to Breanna, we’ll be out of your hair. What do you say?”
Pradeep scratched his head and shifted to the side. “I’m not so comfortable with you being hunted, but…” He shifted to the other side, “on the other hand, the good karma for helping you…”
Ruse held her balled fists to her chest and gave him her most convincing puppy dog face. She knew she looked a hot mess in her ever-more-wrinkled clothes from the day before, with her hair coming slightly loose and frizzy from the lack of care, and she hoped that her disheveled appearance aided in her attempt to persuade some help out of him.
He scrunched his nose, but said, “c’mon.” He motioned for them to follow him. “You have to all sit in the back. We’ll go to the club first. Breanna’s neighborhood is on the way.”
Ruse and Astra followed him without hesitation.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking: Pradeep, why don’t you just call her on your mobile phone? Well, I don’t have a phone. I’m a ghost. This job? Already been paid for it. I don’t like people knowing where I am or who I’m with. It leads to trouble. Trouble like you have, eh?”
Kevin listened to him yammer on at Ruse, but stayed where he was standing for a moment. He then grumbled, “what is this, are we going on an actual ******** quest or something now?”
And after a few seconds of no response, he gave up and followed the girls.
The back doors of Pradeep’s van had several locks on them, more than any sane person would have on a vehicle if they had nothing to hide, and he had already gotten started at the top lock. The key ring he was using had at least fifteen keys dangling from it. He slowly unlocked each lock, then pressed a button on a key fob that unlocked the one the van had when it was built.
Ruse was standing half-behind Astra with her two bags, somewhat regretting her decision to go with him. This wasn’t normal.
“I don’t want you to be scared, I don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it,” Pradeep said, “and I’ve never hurt a woman. I’m a lady’s man, you know.”
Ruse felt as if she had heard these exact same words from Kevin at some point. And Kevin had turned out to be a slimy weirdo, literally and figuratively. There was no way Pradeep had just said those words to comfort her and Astra; he was about to reveal something terrible in the van.
Pradeep pulled open the doors, which did indeed reveal a very interesting sight. Both the left and right walls had peg boards installed, decorated with an arsenal of swords, knives, and several black high tech guns. And below the window between the front and back of the vehicle sat a stack of what looked like banded hundred dollar bills.
“Ah, so you’re a man of the blade too,” Kevin commented. From behind the girls, he was eyeing an impressive sharp, shiny katana near the back of the left wall with his hand to his chin. He stuck out his hand to Pradeep. “It’s Kevin. Pleased to meet another cultured man.”
Ruse gawked in astonishment at how casually Kevin was reacting. This man had enough firepower in only a few square feet to blow the average local to smithereens, for crying out loud! And what was Kevin going on about? She knew he didn’t know anything about ‘blades’ outside of some samurai-themed anime trivia. He definitely didn’t own or use any blades to her knowledge, and she knew more about him than anyone.
“Not really,” Pradeep replied to Kevin’s comment. “I was raised Sikh. But I kind of went crazy after I had amrit and was bestowed my kirpan.” No reponse. He sighed. “We’re not supposed to seek after violence or money, and as you can see, I did. My people rejected me. It’s why I don’t wear the turban; I’m not deserving of it.” He reached down and dusted the loose carpet on the floor bed of the vehicle with his hand. “Honestly, Breanna was the first to accept me the way I am. Maybe she did because of the way I am. Even though she is independent, I think she liked my way of being different.” He smiled and stepped away from the doors so that the girls and Kevin could get in. “I think she liked me because I’m dangerous.”
“Are you actually dangerous?” Ruse asked, still standing behind Astra.
“Only when I have to be. I do business sometimes with some pretty shady arms dealers. But these are mostly just to show off…which is a sin…” he trailed off.
Kevin slipped between the girls and Pradeep, scraping all three of them with his fat, and climbed into the van. He sat himself next to the pile of money and placed his banjo in his lap. “Sidequest unlocked!”
“Don’t touch the gold one,” Pradeep said sternly. There was a gold dagger in a sheath with a curled tip fastened to the peg board below the katana. “It is my kirpan. It is sacred.” He then looked back at the girls and dropped his serious tone. “I promise you, you will be fine. You have my word. And if you get really scared, you have my guns.”
Astra looked over her shoulder at Ruse. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” She stepped forward and reached her hand back to Ruse. Ruse took her hand and the two climbed into the back of the van and sat their bags down. Pradeep closed the doors, took a few minutes to lock everything back up, then climbed into the driver’s seat, which gently bounced the van.
Once the van was started, a string of blue and purple lights on the border of each peg board lit up, causing the glossy weapons to shine. Astra’s eyes grew wide.
“Not thinking about stealing from another innocent man, hmm?”
She ignored Kevin. It was for the best.
Pradeep pulled the sliding glass of the window open and leaned over so he could see into the back. “Feeling alright back there?”
“Feeling great,” Ruse responded, sounding as if she felt the complete opposite of ‘great’. She scooted herself into Astra’s lap and placed her back against Astra’s chest. They were in the opposite corner from Kevin, no doubt due to the stench of sweat radiating from him. Astra wrapped her arms around Ruse and rested her chin on Ruse’s shoulder.
“It doesn’t take long to get there, so don’t get too comfortable.” Then he closed the window.
As soon as the window clacked shut, Kevin began to gush. He pushed his fringe of chestnut red hair away from his eyes and let it rest around his face, very much like a girl who didn’t know what to do with her hands while she rambled about her crush. “This guy is John ******** Wick!” he whispered. “Well, if John Wick was a Paki or whatever the ******** this dude is. And he’s a chad? This dude ********. He landed a ******** stripper and had a kid with her. Damn. Goals.” He began to play a tune on his banjo with a big dumb grin on his face.
Astra let out a soft sigh of a chuckle and leaned into the crook of Ruse’s neck. She whispered, low enough to barely be heard over the rumble of the van, “you’d think he was gay if he didn’t have a freaking rager for you all the time.”

Comments: Just more of Under The Same Stars. Done over the last few hours.  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 86
Theme: none
Time spent: 26ish minutes





Comments: I did the sketch for this page on the 7th lol. My two loyal followers on Tapas are probably very sad they only had 2,000 comics to read over the last three weeks instead of 2,001  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 87
Theme: none
Time spent: ...889 words.

show spoilerhide spoiler

The sun was peaking over the eastern horizon, beaming rays of warm light over the landscape. Today was gonna be the day.
Henry’s metallic slate Mustang tore through the beautiful Native territory of Sicangu, South Dakota. There were green rolling hills dotted with livestock, horses, and the occasional shed or teepee on either side of the road, but they all went unseen. Amped up strongly on several cans of energy drinks, Henry was unable to pay attention to anything but the road ahead.
Empty cans, cardboard and plastic rings littered the floor of his vehicle, and a brand new, unopened box of Red Bull sat in the passenger seat, ready to be ripped open and inhaled. The finished 3D printed Glock sat on the center tray of the dashboard, looking stunning. Henry would be ready no matter what.
His left leg bounced furiously with the jitters, his left hand held the steering wheel in a death grip, and he was sure his heart was beating irregularly. It was probably all those thoughts of Ruse, he assumed, and how pleased she would be when she was finally back in her rightful place with him. Surely, that was it. He turned up the music already blasting from his speakers and subwoofers. The glorious noise of mumble rap exploded into his ears and he grabbed a can of Monster Energy from the center cup holder and took a swig to magnify the experience.
Soon.


CHAPTER SIX: THE HERMIT

Jordan Turnbow was a man in his mid-forties, with graying hair and an ever-receding hairline, pale skin, and sunken-in gray-blue eyes. He had once worked for Japantown’s best-known strip club, More Buck For Your Bang, but once he hit forty, his ability to charm and seduce patrons steeply diminished. His muscle mass had begun to fade and his hairline began to creep away from his face, each taking with them a great deal of his physical attractiveness. His boss, a younger guy that the former owner had given birth to on one of her escapades in Australia, had told him he needed to be ‘let go’ once the crowds started getting too small. And he had been without work ever since.
In his prime though, Jordan had been one of the previous owner’s favorites. He had a bond with her, sexually, romantically, maybe even spiritually. He had power, he had prestige amongst his fellow strippers, before that little Aussie a*****e came along.
Why did she have to go and catch HPV? Her stupid son ruined everything. And he knew this new guy was banging Breanna Van Dyke, a co-worker at the club. He could see it in the way they looked at each other during the last few weeks leading to his termination. He could see it in their body language and hear it in their words.
He was bitter now. Bitter and vengeful. Why did they get to be happy? Why did Breanna get to keep her job?
“I don’t understand why Gator would fire me,” he said. “I’m pretty sure he’s into men too!”
Jordan’s audience consisted of one Blake Van Dyke, a small child, and son of that trifling hoe Breanna, or ‘Honeybunch’ as she was called while working. Breanna was in her thirties, which made her one of the older strippers still performing at the club. She, like many of the other women at the co-ed strip club, had had injections and surgeries and various alterations done to her body in the lips and breast and butt regions to make herself more appealing to patrons. The changes worked, of course, but it made Jordan feel like all his hard work in naturally getting jacked like a Chippendale was for nothing. And he was still jacked! But Breanna never had to work to keep her figure. b***h.
He glanced to the ground at Blake, who he had tied up with ropes and silenced with duct tape. The boy stared back at him with large, scared eyes. It had been a full day since he had snatched the boy from Breanna’s flat and brought him to their current hideout. The two were situated in a pink plastic backyard playhouse on a property belonging to an elderly couple on vacation in Central America. He had planned to do this for months, making sure the house he would hold Blake hostage in would be empty.
He stretched out his legs, which were sore from being crossed all day in a tiny pink plastic chair intended for children. The tip of his sneakers brushed against Blake’s ropes. “The folks who live here aren’t due back for another week. I’ve been following them all year and staking the place out just to make sure of it. You know I’m gonna hold you here for the whole week if I have to. Your mom’s gonna learn what it’s like to have to struggle for once.” He reached into the front pocket of the solid black hoodie he was wearing and produced a switchblade. Pale light coming from the low playhouse window glinted off the silver blade. “Your mom’s a witch, you know. She’s an evil witch who put a spell on her boss so he’d fire me. She owes me. And if she doesn’t bring me what she owes me, well, I’m gonna have to cut you.”

Comments: more Under The Same Stars. Actually, the story starts out with Breanna, then forgets about her situation for 15,000 words, then gets back on track 6 chapters in lol. Also, idk if regularly taking b12 has anything to do with my ability to stick to a project but I’m using it as my reasoning  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 88
Theme: none
Time spent: 34ish minutes





Comments: well, the lines and backgrounds are done now  

[Kittenflavored]

Day # 89
Theme: none
Time spent: at least 15 minutes





Comments: I haven’t done a page with Guy yet this year somehow?? I also haven’t done a page with Gothgoth either, so that’s what’ll be next.
Also, tablet "came unplugged” in the middle of this sketch, as tablets do, and I got distracted, so I forgot to write down the times I stopped and started back up on this ;n;

Also, idk who I'm gonna make the customer. Their body says 'guest'.