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slu7formen · 1 year ago

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I heard you were sad about the lack of Luke asks, so l've decided to try and help! Bare with me bc this might not be the best considering I'm think on the spot and its late over here so feel free to delete!

So, reader was with Luke when he was running away with Annie and Thalia so they're really close. Then, when her and Luke were like 16 or smth reader left on a quest and its been like 2 years so its assumed that she just failed and died on her quest. This ruined Luke bc he loved her and one night, maybe at the bonfire, he hears reader screaming his name somewhere in the foresty part of camp, just absolutely terrified. He finds her and shes hurt, I'm talkin reallyyy messed up like a massive gash across her eye, (matching scar awww) leavin her like half blind, huge claw marks, teeth marks, and other wounds. He carries her to the infirmary, shes prob passed out at this point from like blood loss. Anyways, she finally wakes up in the infirmary and a bunch of fluff ensues, yk the usual "Don't ever leave me again" "I thought you were dead" the fun stuff and obv they confess to each other! (also, is 🖤 taken?)

whoever made this request, it was so good, you’re evil and brilliant; thank you 🖤

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: wounds, injuries, blood mention, presumed death, luke being heartbroken (sorry), crying

reminder: english's not my first language so l apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

Every morning, Luke woke with the same dull ache in his chest, a constant reminder of the gaping hole your absence had left in him. It was a hollow ache, a physical manifestation of the loneliness that had become his unwelcome company. Nine years old when he ran away, the world had been a harsh teacher, but three years later, when he found you, that harshness had softened, replaced by a fierce protectiveness. You, a scared, twelve-year-old with defiance blazing in your eyes and a meager weapon in hand, had become his anchor in the storm.

The streets had been a cruel way of living, but together, you and Luke had forged a bond stronger than steel. You were the same age, yet he was older by a few months, a difference that somehow granted him a silent responsibility for your safety. Thalia and Annabeth, two more lost souls swept up in the world of their demigod destinies, completed their unbalanced family. But it was you and Luke, the two eldest, who shared a silent language of understanding that went beyond words. You fought together, scavenged together, your backs against the world.

The arrival of Grover, a satyr reeking of panic, brought relief and a terrifying truth— you weren't alone. The hunt for demigods was real, and you were all in danger.

Fourteen. A year etched in his memory with the sharp point of a spear. The monsters, the desperate fight, Thalias selfless sacrifice, the agonizing transformation into the pine tree — the events played on a loop in his mind. Camp Half-Blood, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a bittersweet prison. He had you by his side then, a hand to grip in the darkness, a silent understanding in your shared gaze.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be there, by his side, facing challenges and forging a future together. He replayed the memory of your first quest announcement on a loop. The fear in his gut, a slap in the face of his fierce protectiveness. He wasn't supposed to lose you.

It wasn't fair. It shouldn't have been you, alone, facing whatever monstrous fate had befallen you. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he replayed the day you left. The forced cheer, the worry that gnawed at him, all a blur now. Training became a way to numb the ache, each swing of his sword carrying a silent plea for your sate return. But as days turned into months, the hope that had fueled him began to fade away.

News traveled slow in the demigod world, but eventually, rumors reached Camp Half-Blood. Whispers of a monstrous encounter, a lost trail, a silence that stretched too long. A year after your departure, the whispers solidified into a grim reality - you were missing, presumed dead.

Luke felt the world tilt on its axis. Denial battled with a cold, horrifying truth. You were gone.

A quest, a single solitary mission, had stolen you from him. Stolen your laughter, your warmth, your presence that had become an essential part of his world. It wasn't fair.

The quest for the Golden Apple had been a cruel twist of fate. A desperate attempt to appease his father, to offer a sliver of hope to a camp drowning in sadness, it had backfired spectacularly. Luke returned empty-handed, his body wracked with exhaustion and his spirit battered. But the most visible reminder of his failure was the jagged scar that ran from beneath his eye down to his chin, a pale testament to the dragon's fury.

He'd needed your presence then more than ever. Needed your steady gaze and the quiet strength you possessed. Needed the spark of defiance in your eyes that mirrored his own growing anger towards a world that had seemed so determined to tear them apart. He needed your touch, your hugs, he needed you.

He stood stiffly before your burial shroud, an image carved in his memory forever. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unchecked. He ignored the concerned glances of his friends, focusing only on the phantom warmth of your hand in his, a memory more vivid than anything else.

In that moment, ravaged by grief, a single truth burned bright — he loved you. And he had lost you. The world felt a little emptier, a little colder, without you by his side.

And the first nights after you left were the worst.

At first, they were hopeful visions. He'd see you, alone on a dusty road, tending to a nasty gash on your arm with a makeshift bandage. A surge of worry would course through him, a familiar anxiety honed by years on the streets. But then, a wry smile would tug at his lips as he remembered the countless times he'd taught you how to create a tourniquet, how to patch a wound and survive on the bare minimum. A flicker of confidence, a belief in your resourcefulness, would chase away the initial fear. He just knew you'd find a way back to him.

He'd wake with a jolt, his hand instinctively reaching for the empty space beside him. The sheets were cold, the air thick with the silence of your absence. But then, a flicker of hope would ignite— you were alive, you were out there.

Finally, the dreams turned into nightmares. You'd appear, but not the way he remembered you. Pale and gaunt, your eyes hollow and vacant. Sometimes, you'd be chased by monstrous shadows, their grotesque forms dissolving into a chilling whisper of your name. These dreams left him gasping for breath, his heart hammering against his ribs.

It had been a little over a year since the agonizing ceremony, the image of your burial shroud seared into his memory. But time, a supposed healer, offered no solace. In reality, it had stretched the fact of your absence even wider. Two years. Two years since he'd last seen your smile, heard your voice, felt the warmth of your hand in his.

"Luke!"

Ah, yes. He heard you sometimes. At first, it happened while he was alone; he believed it could be you, trying to contact him in some way, but it never was that way. He never found you. Then he started hearing your voice in crowded places, mistaking your voice for the ones of other campers, and his heart ached every time he realized it wasn't you.

He felt like he was going insane. Hearing you, even after years. He must be going mad. But then, it became clearer.

"Luke!"

The voice, barely audible above the crackling flames, cut through his thoughts like a knife. He froze, his hand tightening around the thin stick that held his burned marshmallow. Was it-? No. It couldn't be. He must be imagining things again.

The grief, the pain, he knew, could play tricks on the mind.

He brushed it off, attempting to rejoin the conversation, forcing a lightness to his voice that felt hollow. But then, it came again. Clearer this time, tinged with a desperate urgency.

"Luke!? Luke!"

The single word, laden with a desperate urgency, pierced through his defenses. He froze, his blood turning to ice. It was your voice. The same voice that filled his dreams and haunted his waking hours. He whipped his head around, searching the darkened forest beyond the fire's reach.

But the trees stood silent, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. Nothing. Yet, the echo of your voice lingered in the air, a chilling reminder of the impossible. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic drum against his ribs.

He glanced around the fire, catching the bewildered expressions of a few campers who had clearly heard the voice too. Their eyes mirrored the confusion and fear that clawed at him. If he said anything, they'd think he'd cracked, that the pain had finally driven him mad.

"Luke!"

But it was you.

Your voice, unmistakable and undeniably real. A wave of disbelief washed over him, followed by a surge of hope so intense it threatened to suffocate him.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the surprised yelps of his friends as he knocked over a tray of steaming hot cocoa cups. Stumbling over his own feet, he charged towards the edge of the forest, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He skidded to a halt just inside the treeline, his eyes scanning the darkness. "yn!?" he called out, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and desperate hope. The only reply was the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

It was cloaked in darkness, making it impossible to discern any details. But there was a smallness, a fragility to its silhouette that resonated with his memory of you.

Just as doubt began to creep back in, another call pierced the silence. "Luke!" This time, the desperation in your voice was unmistakable.

He didn't hesitate any longer. "yn!" he roared, his voice raw with emotion as he launched himself into a run.

Several campers, roused by the commotion, scrambled to their feet, their eyes wide with confusion and trepidation. They watched, mouths agape, as Luke bolted towards the treeline, his long strides eating away at the distance.

"Luke!" Your voice came again, closer this time, tinged with a note of panic.

"yn!" He didn't dare slow down, his heart making its way up to his mouth. He could hear the sound of others following him, their footsteps pounding on the soft earth behind him.

Through the dense foliage, he caught a glimpse of your figure — small, hunched over, moving with a limp. Hope flared bright within him, battling the tide of fear that threatened to drown him.

Then, you stumbled, nearly falling. He redoubled his efforts, pushing himself to the limit. As he broke through the last line of trees, he saw you standing there, bathed in the pale moonlight.

And his breath hitched in his throat.

The sight of you, once vibrant and full of life, was a punch to the gut. Dirt and grime smeared your face, your clothes were ripped and tattered, and a sheen of sweat covered your brow. But it was the wounds that stole his breath away. Deep claw marks raked across your arms, a bloody gash marred your leg, and the most horrifying of all — a massive scar stretched across your eye, a brutal reminder of some unseen battle. The campers behind him gasped in unison, their faces etched with shock and horror.

Chiron, alerted by the commotion, pushed his way through the crowd, his brow furrowed in concern.

But your focus was solely on Luke. With a desperate cry of his name, you lurched towards him, your injured leg buckling beneath you. Without hesitation, Luke launched himself forward, catching you in his arms just before you hit the ground.

"Luke..." you whispered, your voice barely a breath. Your eyes, the one that wasn't obscured by the wound, flickered with a spark of relief and a hint of something else - a deep, unspoken emotion that mirrored his own.

Then, your eyelids fluttered closed, and your body went limp in his arms. Panic surged through him as he cradled you closer, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and relief. " yn? No, no, no, no, yn?" he slightly slapped your cheek, no response. He looked back to to the campers that decided to follow him, his voice cracking with desperation. "Get the Apollo cabin, now!"

The days that followed your arrival were shrouded in a suffocating silence. The once vibrant camp seemed to echo with a collective held breath. No one dared to talk to Luke.

His eyes, once playful and sparkly, now held a deep, smoldering anger. He snapped at anyone who dared to approach. Only Chiron, with his patient wisdom, Annabeth, with her loyalty, and the healers of Apollo cabin, sworn to secrecy about your condition, were able to pierce the storm raging within him.

Each day, a relentless routine unfolded. Luke would rise with the first rays of dawn, his body heavy with the weight of his own despair. He'd force down a meager breakfast, the taste turning to ash in his mouth. Then, with a heart that felt like a lead weight in his chest, he'd make the agonizing trek to the Big House, the temporary haven where you resided. He would do it multiple times a day, actually.

Lee, the son of Apollo with a mop of messy blonde hair and eyes that held a touch of empathy, would greet him at the door, a practiced neutrality masking his concern. The answer was always the same. You were alive. The healers had managed to stabilize you. But your recovery was a slow, painful journey. The wounds you bore were a testament to a harrowing pain, and the care they had taken on your body was immense.

As soon as you had fainted in his arms, you had slipped into unconsciousness. No amount of coaxing, no whispered pleas from the healers, or songs in Ancient Greek, could bring you back. Luke was devastated. The relief of having you back, a physical presence after two agonizing years, was a fragile flame quickly extinguished by the reality of your condition. Your life hung by a thread, and he was kept at arm's length.

One particularly bleak afternoon, Luke found himself face-to-face with Chiron. The old centaur, his kind eyes reflecting the turmoil swirling within Luke, gestured for him to sit.

"Luke," Chiron began, his voice soft yet firm, "I understand your pain. Your worry for yn is valid and understandable. But you must also understand, her condition is delicate"

Luke clenched his fists, his jaw tightening with suppressed anger. "Why can't I see her? Annabeth's younger than me and yet, she gets to see her. Why not me?" The words tumbled out, laced with a raw desperation.

Chiron sighed, a weary sound. "Because, Luke," he said, his voice heavy with empathy, "we fear the emotional toll it might take on you if-, if the worst were to happen."

He slumped in his chair, defeated. Grief, anger, and a gnawing helplessness battled within him.

"How long then?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "How long will it be before I can see her again?"

Chiron reached out, placing a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. "We don't know, Luke" he said honestly. "But the healers are doing their best And you need to find your strength. She will need it when she wakes up”

He nodded dumbly, understanding Chiron's concern for him. But that didn't make the gnawing ache in his chest any less agonizing. He missed you. Missed the warmth of your hand in his, the light that sparkled in your eyes, the way your laughter could chase away even the darkest shadows.

A few days later, he walked by the Big House again. Lee greeted him again, just as every other day.

"How is she?" Luke asked.

Lee sighed, a gust of exasperation tinged with sympathy. He looked tired himself, dark circles under his eye and a large cup of coffee in his hand. "Little change. But she's stable. Stronger than she looks. We had some healers fainting because of how much singing they've done to her"

A muscle ticked in Luke's jaw. "Can't I at least see her?" The words came out harsher than he intended, dripping with frustration.

Lee studied him for a long moment, his own blue eyes reflecting the turmoil within Luke. Finally, he spoke. "Look, I get it. You're scared, you're angry. But you have to understand, seeing her like this... we can't let you"

Luke clenched his fists. "I can handle it" he growled, the beast within him straining against its leash.

Lee took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Can you, Luke? Can you handle the possibility that maybe she doesn't get to wake up?"

The question hung in the air, a brutal truth that stripped away Luke's bravado. He stared at Lee, the anger draining away, replaced by a raw vulnerability that surprised even him. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat suddenly making it hard to breathe.

"No" he whispered, the single word a confession of his deepest fear.

Lee nodded, a flicker of understanding softening his features. "Then trust us, Luke. Trust the healers. We're doing everything we can."

And then he remember Chiron's words. He knew he was right. He couldn't bear the thought of the last image of you being one of unconsciousness, a pale specter in a sterile infirmary bed.

The days that followed settled into a grim routine. Luke stopped asking the relentless question, 'Did she wake up?' The answer, etched into his weary soul, was a constant ache that no words could soothe. He had stopped arguing, the initial burst of rebellion replaced by a quiet desperation. He started asking more specific questions, focusing on the details of your injuries. Your eye, the massive gash that mirrored his own scar in a way that made his stomach churn, became a particular point of morbid fascination.

He couldn't bear to look at the jagged mark on his face, couldn't imagine how it felt on yours.

Not because he thought you wouldn't be beautiful —he knew you would be. But the thought of you facing the same constant reminder of pain, of vulnerability, filled him with a protective rage that simmered beneath the surtace.

But then, a shift began to occur. He noticed stolen glances exchanged between the Apollo campers, hushed whispers that died down as soon as he entered their vicinity. An unspoken secret they guarded fiercely. He tried to ignore it, burying himself in training, seeking solace in the familiar sting of sweat and exertion. Chiron's words were a constant drumbeat in his head - seeing you too soon, on the precipice of death, was a burden he might not bear.

But later that day, as the sun dipped below the horizon casting the camp in an orange glow, Chiron sought him out. Luke braced himself, his heart plummeting into his stomach. His mind spun with a thousand morbid possibilities.

He met Chiron's gaze, a storm brewing in his own eyes. "What is it?" he rasped, voice breaking.

Chiron took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Luke's with a solemn intensity. "Luke," he began, his voice thick with a mix of trepidation and hope, "she's awake."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis again. The air whooshed out of Luke's lungs, leaving him breathless. For a moment, he could only stare, his mind struggling to process the simple, life-altering statement.

Then he ran.

His feet pounded a trantic rhythm against the dusty path, each step fueled by a desperate need to see you. Chiron's protests, if there were any, were lost in the roar of blood rushing in his ears. He wouldn't be denied this. Not now. His legs pumped like pistons, fueled by a desperate hope that threatened to shatter him if it turned out to be false. He burst through the doors of the Big House, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. The interior was deserted, the silence amplifying the frantic pounding of his heart.

He flung open the infirmary door, the sight inside momentarily stealing his breath. Two Apollo campers stood by the window, their hushed whispers abruptly cut short by his arrival.

But his eyes were locked on you, the very image of him defying the cruelty of fate.

You sat on the bed, a fragile silhouette bathed in the pale light, your head bent over your bandaged hands. Your hair, once a fiery mane, had grown longer, a testament to the time that had passed for him in a blur of grief. Your skin, usually kissed by the sun, was a pale canvas.

He took everything in — the fresh cuts marring your arms, the claw marks, the way your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. And you had lifted your head, startled by the sudden noise.

Your eyes, usually sparkling with life, were dull with pain, but when they met his, a spark ignited within them.

"Luke!"

The word ripped from your throat, a cry that echoed with relief and a tremor of something deeper. You lunged off the bed, ignoring the wince that contorted your face as your injured leg protested.

"yn, wait!" Lee sprang forward, concern etched on his face. Your stitches, particularly those on your thigh, were still fresh, and any sudden movement could cause them to tear.

But you didn't listen. You threw yourself at Luke, your arms wrapping around him with a desperation that mirrored his own. He caught you, the impact sending a jolt through his body. His arms tightened around you, a desperate need to hold on, to feel you solid against him.

He held you tight, the fierce possessiveness in his grip both a comfort and a warning. Your body, the way you fit so perfectly against his larger frame, sent a jolt through him. He'd grown, you realized, his broad shoulders feeling wider, his embrace stronger. In contrast, you felt impossibly small, the warrior you remembered replaced by a shell of the person you once were. His hot tears quickly started to wet your hair.

The sudden weakness in your leg, the one that had been screaming in protest since you lunged at him, finally overwhelmed you. A sharp cry escaped your lips as your body gave way beneath you. Instinctively, Luke tightened his grip, his arms morphing into a cradle to catch your fall.

The impact with the floor sent a fresh wave of pain shooting through you, but it was a dull ache compared to the overwhelming joy of finally being in his arms again. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Luke wouldn't stop sobbing now, his shoulder shaking as his arms held you into his embrace.

The Apollo campers, sensing the intimacy of the moment, mumbled apologies as they slipped out of the infirmary, leaving you and Luke alone.

He cradled you close, the scent of your hair and the warmth of your body a balm to his battered soul. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the familiar fragrance that had haunted his dreams for so long. It was real. You were real.

"You're alive" he sobbed, the words a broken mantra against your ear. "You're alive" he repeated. Each repetition wasn't just for you, but for him, a desperate attempt to convince himself that this wasn't a cruel dream, that you weren't an illusion.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hand, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw. The wounds looked clean now, stitched and bandaged, but the raw pain was etched in the lines around your eyes. The gash across your eye, a crimson scar angry and fresh, pulled at the corner of your eye, making it appear swollen and bruised. Yet, to him, you were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

It started a finger's width above your eyebrow, then, just as abruptly, it dipped down, catching the outer corner of your eye. The scar tissue pulled the delicate skin, making your eye appear slightly narrowed and bloodshot.

But despite the rawness of the wound, despite the vulnerability etched on your face, there was something undeniably fierce about you. It was a look he hadn't seen before, a look born from surviving the unthinkable.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, blurring your vision. You had always been beautiful, that much was undeniable. But now, even with a scar contrasting against your features, you were breathtaking.

He didn't mean to say it out loud, but the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

"You look beautiful" he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You leaned into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his hand. "It hurts" you whispered, a tear tracing a path down your cheek.

"I know" he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. He sniffed uncontrollably at your sight, so broken and fragile, wrapped around his arm. "But you're alive. You're here" his bottom lip started trembling before he could control it. He inhaled sharply and his voice came out shaky; "I thought you were dead" tears rolling down his cheeks.

You laughed, a weak sound that was more like a sob. "You won't get rid of me that easily"

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin. In that moment, the infirmary with its sterile smell and harsh light faded away. All that existed was the feel of you in his arms, the warmth of your body against his, and the knowledge that you were alive.

"Don't ever leave me again" he pleaded, his voice thick with a mix of relief and terror. The thought of losing you again, of facing another agonizing day without you, was almost unbearable.

"I wouldn't dream of it" you whispered.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan blurb #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines

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mei-yoi · 2 months ago

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ha ha ha 🤣🤣🤣😐 i think i might be into girls

I need a bf i need a bf i need bf i ened a bf i ned a br i eed a bf ine dasn be i ennda ab f i e and dbe

#i seriously don’t understand myself #i mean I’ve never really had a crush on a guy???#like only in 7th grade and that was sort of only because he was noce like once amd my mind thought about that for some weeks #but also i never really thought i had a crish on girls #BUT like thinking back i totally had feelings for girls amd i just brushed them off #like no its not ‘normal’ to stare at your nest friend and think shes so pretty and that you want to kiss her #and no not ‘normal’ that you’re jealous like that about them talking to guys #please i need help #please ignore this 🙏🙏🙏 this is embarrassing #i might be losing it #i might be going insane #i might cry #i might be cooked #i might die #i might have a problem #i might be stupid #i might regret this #i might delete this later #my shaylaaaa #i need her so bad #help help help help help why do i like her so much help help help #lowkey think im asexual too??? haha so funny 🤣 my friend suggested that when i was like 13 already but obvi i didn’t take shi serious #should have known better #should have seen that coming #anyways i might be stupid… this should stay in drafts #i shouldn’t be feeling this way #but like why are guys so pretty to me then??? like what??? am i just so influenced by society or what??#might be into boys and girls?? but im lowkey like highkey a man hater #do i not like men or do i just hate how they act??? but alos like GIRLS 😍🙏 i dont know myslef anymore HELP #Do i like the idea of affection and attention from men or do i like men HELP PLSS idk anymore i so need to talk about this with someone

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pinkyjulien · 4 months ago

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WIP Saturday 🙋‍♂️

Been slowly gettin' back into CP77 modding and wanted to do some comfy hoodie :3

First attempt was a port from Marvelous Designer

Everything was going fine, weight was decent, but trying to get the materials right was fucking my groove up

Wasn't satisfied with how it looked, the shadows were unpleasant, and couldn't find any materials that I liked - so I ended up tossing it aside (didn't delete it! Might rework in the future when I feel better about it 👀)

Instead, I decided to work from a Vanilla garment!

Pics from Khagan's Clothing Catalog

I love this hoodie and used it a lot during my PL playthrough - tho it's way too crowded for what I had in mind, a simple, comfy hoodie

Even if I was able to delete some of the additional bits, a big part of it is actually baked into the main submesh (like a lot of vanilla meshes)

After my unbuckled Aldecaldos jacket I feel more confident tackling heavy editing projects tho, so this wasn't TOO spooky 👌

First thing first, I deleted a big chunk from the left top side and kept the bottom part (to keep the assymetry and natural flow of the fabric) then I mirrored the right side and connected everything to the remaining left side

Fixing a mesh up means I also need to unwrap its UVs again - AND that means duplicating, moving and flipping the normal map to follow the new unwrapped uvs

Same with the mlmask layers, but that comes later 🧍‍♂️

The original Hoodie has a bunch of additional meshes; the sleeves and hoods variants are on a separate mesh that gets called by the OG entity

I decided to merge everything into a single mesh, easier to handle for me in the AXL structure later 🔎

Regardless, still needed to move the sleeves and hoods to match the new fixed left side (since its a mirror of the right side!)

Now that the meshes are fixed both model and UV wise, need to re-weight it from the OG garment 🤚 That concludes the 3D part

AXL side, I went with 4 different garment ent and apps to handle the 4 variants; default (hood down, long sleeves), hooded, rolled sleeves, and hooded + rolled!

A fun lil detail with this mesh is that the hood doesn't have any garment support - with this in mind I decided to use the T1 - inner torso - slots to allow us to wear vest on top of the hoodie

😫👌 Idk idk it scratch my stinky brain really good HGHFH I love it

With everything ready, t'was time to tackle the FUN part; the appearaaaaanceeeees 🤠

I first had 4 designs with 5 colors each - but it quickly turned into 6 colors each; first design being the "basic" / default one, that I named "edgewear"

Gotta keep in mind that each color has 4 mesh variants, so that's already 24 items

I then used the beloved "orange leather" vanilla hoodie with the white barghest face on it (the one I used through my PL playthrough! probably my favorite tbh) as a base for my next design, "quilted"

It has a cute skunk ass hood 🦨

And I'm currently still working on a third design inspired by Varsity Jackets, the... well gfhhg "varsity" design

All of the appearances are still Wips and might change 🧍‍♂️

and I'd like to maybe add one more BUT... that's already 74 items, I don't like having too much options hgfh but dynamic AXL makes it really easy to just go apeshit with variations

ANYWAY I felt like doing another Behind The Mod TM post :3 some of y'all like them and I like sharing my modding stuff!

#cyberpunk 2077 #modding shenanigans #modding wip #long post #ITS FUN ITS FUN I'm having fun with CP77 modding again 🐴#now that I'm comfy with heavy edits of vanilla meshes I have more ideas tbh #might stop porting for a while cause yeah not feeling it anymore atm

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dailykoffink · 9 days ago

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daily koffin-k is OVER [probably not actually]

ok guys i Know i have been going radio silent very often but honestly daily koffin-k MIGHT actually be over [im fixating hard on another piece of media💔sorry koffin-k] but if you guys are that desperate i can add mods to take over the blog

i will still be drawing 2 more entries for daily koffin-k so this isnt the last you see of me [maybe i will pop in later. who knows]

i forgot about the blue sky account while writing this

ok so about the blue sky account....two options, i can either repost the stuff from here onto the current blue sky account or i can archive the account [and change the handle] to make way for a new blue sky account

so if you are interested...dm me [loud scary thunder noise]🌩️🌩️🌩️🌩️🌩️i literally dont care on how good your art is the ts!underswap fandom is STARVING anyways pleeease read everything below the cut if youre interested [also please do not feel forced to volunteer/be sacrificed/whatever this is all for the love of the game. and the game in question is koffin-k]

just to knock some obvious rules out of the way

please please please do not delete any previous posts

follow the blog theme?? draw koffin-k?? i dont know don't ruin this blog

have common sense dont be weird

if you become a mod for this blog please do not mention my main blog anywhere here im not comfortable with it

and some things i dont mind you doing

changing the blog to a weekly koffin-k or something? if youre hit with the daily koffin-k block

changing the blog's appearance

tweaking or remastering the pinned post idk

answering/deleting some of the asks that ive left rotting its your choice not mine now!

if you break any of this or just do weird stuff in general you are Banned from the daily koffin-k club

ok thats all :) be the future of dailykoffink........ /j

#not daily koffin k #devious scheming #announcement kind of #its joever

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freshthoughts2020 · 10 months ago

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No More Big 3! What's Cole's Next Move?!?!

July 11, 2024

If you haven’t read my previous article, scroll down on the freshthoughts2020 tab and check it out. In that article, we discussed whether Kendrick’s feud with Drake might be pointless if he doesn’t aim for the commercial number one spot. With a clear task ahead for Kendrick (whether he follows it or not), we’re left to ask: What is Cole’s next move?

I.Cole's Strong Start in 2024

Cole came into 2024 in a great position in the power rankings and was a strong front-runner to take the lead. He outperformed Drake on “First Person Shooter,” went bar to bar with him again on “Evil Ways” from the “Scary Hours Edition of For All The Dogs,” and just completed a successful national tour.

II.The Apology and Its Aftermath

Cole was set to answer the call when he released his “Might Delete Later” EP. However, moments later, his infamous apology came, leading many people to write him off and not wanting to hear from him for a while. Then he reappeared on the bubbling New York sensation Cash Cobain’s track “Grippy,” which has been regarded as one of Cole’s worst verses. The verse wasn’t even bad, but if it wasn’t mind-blowing post-apology, any verse he penned was going to get panned anyway.

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III.The Dismantling of the Big 3

The idea of the Big 3 has been dismantled. The world waits on a new K-dot album, ready to crown him as number one, while the Drizzy hive stands patient awaiting Drake’s inevitable return. Again, what is Cole to do?

IV.The Two-Part Plan for Cole's Comeback

I believe Cole has to do two things to ensure a great comeback and even get his name back into that front-runner conversation. We know he’s been hyping up his album The Fall Off, which is in a worse position post-beef. Here’s what he should do to make sure his album isn’t swept under the rug when it drops.

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First, Cole has to address Symba. Why Symba? People may have forgotten about that freestyle he did on the “Control” beat, but it needs to be addressed. He sympathized with letting Nas down but went on to say he left Bas and Cozz down, the whole squad down. He slammed him for the apologies. Cole has to address how he didn’t have to clout beef with Kendrick, and most importantly, he has to spank Symba for even thinking he can say that. There are a few angles he can go with, but I probably shouldn’t reveal that. If Cole is capable like I know he is, he should know the angles too. There are plenty of lyricists who will probably make fun of that apology moving forward with general bars, but he needs to make Symba the poster child of what happens when you disrespect Cole.

He needs to do this because Symba has enough lyrical respect from peers and elder statesmen of hip-hop that he’s worth addressing, and because Symba doesn’t threaten Cole in popularity. It’s like Pusha T with Drake. Symba can scorch Cole until he’s blue in the face, but modern rap is a popularity contest, and Cole would never lose that. However, for this to be effective, Cole would have to scorch Symba as if he’s going up against JAY-Z himself—no mercy! If Cole does this, half of the two-part plan to dominance will be secured by everyone taking mental notes: “Maybe we shouldn’t mess with this guy; that apology stuff doesn’t really mean anything.”

The second thing Cole must do is very simple: hits on hits! He has to get into his Forest Hills bag. That’s far from my favorite project from him, but it’s his most commercially successful album, and his sound isn’t compromised! He should re-listen to that album hard while creating The Fall Off and study the singles from Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life. He needs smashes—songs for the radio!

With these two things working in unison, we’ll quickly forget the same people saying they “...never want to hear him again,” “he’s soft,” blah blah, will be the same people saying “oh Cole’s the G.O.A.T., Cole’s the G.O.A.T.”

These are only suggestions, and he can take these suggestions and stuff them up Rubi Rose’s ass for all he cares. But if he still cares and wants to get back in that conversation, he’s got to do something along these lines. It’s not even much, but it’ll be more than enough. Trust!

Visit gettothecorner.com

Follow me on twitter.com/onlyonejaevonn

#LIFE LOGS #LIFE LESSONS #jaevonn harris #jaevonn #j.#cole #j. cole #kendrick lamar #jermaine cole #j.cole #jay-z #hov #kdot #scary hours #for all the dogs #music journalism #hip hop journalism #first person shooter

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jedimordsith · 10 months ago

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Deleted Scene from Latibule

Luke looked up from his reading when the door to the Organa-Solo apartment slid open. Han wandered into the sitting room a moment later. His sense was warm and relaxed, and his attire matched. His formal jacket was slung over one shoulder, his shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his spavat had been untied and hung loose at his collar.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted. “Pretty quiet in here. You didn’t sell my kids to the circus, did you?”

”Not for lack of trying,” Luke quipped back, marking his spot and tossing his data pad on the lounger beside him. “Ringmaster said they were too small yet. Since I have to wait and try again next year, I dropped them back in their beds. They’ve been out cold for an hour. How was the event?”

“Just like every other one,” Han shrugged and flung his jacket over a nearby chair. “Lots of fancy people who like to listen to themselves talk eating fussy hors d'oeuvres and drinking wine that’s more label than taste. Leia had a good time until she and Winter got cornered into a hush-hush meeting with Mon over something.” He frowned. “Why didn’t you go, anyway? You like museums.”

“I’ve already been,” Luke said casually, rolling to his feet and grabbing his glass from the side table.

”This was the grand opening,” Han objected. “What, did you get some kind of special Jedi tour?”

“Something like that,” Luke offered noncommittally, angling past his brother-in-law toward the kitchen.

Han’s demeanor turned smug. “Let me guess — it was one of your excursions with Jade.”

“It might have been,” Luke shot a sly look over his shoulder. “But I’d keep that suspicion to yourself if I was you.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

”Because you have a life day coming up, and if you don’t do anything to bring unwanted attention to Mara, a bottle of Whyren’s gold might find its way into your gift pile.”

“Gold label?” Ambling after him, Han whistled. “How’re you affording that on a Jedi’s salary?”

”Mara’s getting a couple cases at a pretty serious discount,” Luke confided, rinsing his glass and putting it in the cleaning unit. “Someone at the distillery owes her a favor.”

”That’s some favor.” Han cocked his head. “She seems like the type who knows how to collect ‘em, though.”

The Omega in Luke bristled. He immediately quelled the reaction, but not before Han caught it.

“Hey,” he said, lifting his hands, palms out. “You know I’ve got nothing but respect for Jade. The NRI might jump to tawdry assumptions, but that’s just because they lack imagination. Me,” he lowered his hands, pointing at his chest. “I’ve been around the system. Flesh is easy and cheap. You want to collect real favors, you have to get into the weird stuff.” Raising his eyebrows, he held his hands a short distance apart, palms parallel to one another. “Saw a guy trade a whole moon once for this ugly little statue — this big, looked like it oughta be a doorstop at a tacky cantina.”

Amused, Luke felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He clapped a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder as he passed back toward the sitting room.

He’d known, intellectually, that it would take a while for the NRI to warm up to Karrde and, by extension, Mara. The Intelligence community was skeptical of smugglers as a whole and less than thrilled at how deftly Karrde’s organization had shoe-horned its way into the respectable echelons of the New Republic government. The fact that they couldn’t find a single record of Mara’s existence prior to her work for Karrde only exacerbated their frustrations. He didn’t begrudge them their caution, really.

But after three heats spent in Mara’s bed, the Omega in him had unavoidably begun to think of her as his, and he couldn’t entirely suppress the instinctive resentment that flared when she was disrespected.

Their secret Force-healing and training sessions didn’t help the situation. Mara was intensely careful about her shielding, only ever letting him into one small section of her mind or body at a time, but the anxiety singing at the edges of his touch each time left him profoundly aware of the risk she was taking, entrusting him with even that much. There was something incredibly intimate about extending his own control over the Force into her body, knitting together the fine sheathing around ravaged nerves or unraveling knotted scar tissue and seeing her entire body soften as a long-borne pain slipped away. About the way she smiled when they finished, as if he could see a little more light behind her eyes, a little more spaciousness in her breath.

Then there were their “excursions” as Han called them. Mara had grown up on Coruscant and, much to his delight, Luke had discovered that she had a mischievous streak. When the mood struck, she would appear from nowhere with a glint in her eyes that made his heart rate kick up with the same bright anticipation he’d known as a youth when he raced his skyhopper toward the canyons to Thread the Needle or when sneaking round bases during the early days of the war with the Rogues, intent on pranking another squadron. Ditching whatever he was supposed to be doing, he’d follow her at all hours of day or night. It was through those stolen moments that she introduced him to all the intriguing places that existed beneath the surface —often literally — of Coruscant’s glittering cityscape. Private libraries. Greasy cantinas whose menus were as obscure as they were mouth-watering. Junk shops whose backroom shelves mysteriously stocked the most hard-to-find parts for anyone willing to ask no questions about their provenance. And, occasionally, secret tunnels and camoflaged peep holes through which they accessed yet-to-open museum exhibits or dress rehearsals of the most in-demand new performances.

In her determination to prove her independence from her former master and the life he’d shackled her into, Mara was steadily, and entirely accidentally, achieving the one goal she’d believed wholly out of reach: capturing Luke’s heart.

It’s fine, he told himself for the hundredth time, gathering his data pad and bidding Han goodnight. It wasn’t like they slept together outside of his heats, and Mara was genuinely the perfect Alpha. She would never claim him, would never try to bind him or prevent him from keeping his vows of independence and service to the new Jedi Order that he was building. As an Omega, it wasn’t like he could claim her, and her traumatic past meant that even at his weakest he would never ask her to claim him. If she ever found another Omega to bond with, the loss might kill him. Unless or until then, however, he intended to enjoy every moment he could manage with her.

#my fic #deleted scene #luke skwalker #mara jade #luke x mara

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3motionally3xhausted · 1 year ago

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Kiss Kiss Fall into another old hyperfixation

Anyway, I randomly wanted to redesign the main cast of Ouran in my style/ with headcanons and my own embellishments

Here's a screenshot redraw, I'll put all the redesigns below the break bc I did all the main characters & wanna talk about the choices I made. Also I made up that uniform redesign on the spot bc I when I was doing the characters I just put them in casual clothes lmao

(I might do some others later, like Renge, Kasanoda, Yasuchika, Benibara, etc.)

Going in order of my least favorite to top favorite. And dont mind that I didn't color the clothes, that's not whats important here lmao

Mori is only at the bottom because I don't like the drawing that much, I still think the design is pretty good. Though, like right when I finished coloring, I decided a bun/top-knot would look better so it's a bit disappointing there. In my head, Mori is kind of struggling to figure out who he is & what he wants to do, which is why he follows Honey around and doesn't talk much. He does genuinely like being around the other hosts though.

Also, the undercut because A) he has the reputation for being the scary one & it kinda suits that, B) uh do I even have to say it? ...its hot He does lowkey look like Sokka from Avatar tho, especially with the blue accents

(edit: I accidentally deleted Mori's file so now this is the only copy so 😭)

Honey is next because again I think the drawing itself is a little off and the design is pretty close to Basil from Omori, which i didn't notice until it was too late lmao. One of the main things I didn't like about his character in the show was obviously how childlike he was & how girls still flirted with him even though he looked and acted 6; So now he still acts a bit childish but doesn't play it up as much & definitely has a more normal voice, not a fckn child's.

Haruhi! I definitely had to keep her glasses cuz they were really cute and kinda sold the whole 'commoner' thing in a way. But other than that I mainly wanted to balance out her femininity and masculinity to make her more androgynous/nonbinary/gender-fluid since she definitely has some of that going on in the show as is. I also gave her dark circles under her eyes to kinda show that she worked really hard to get into Ouran with low status.

Next up is Tamaki of course, getting into the characters I'm most happy with the designs of. One small thing I tried to do for each of them was give them varying hair tones; so even though Honey and Tamaki are both blond, I went very platinum-blond with him. When I started drawing him, my only real thought was "he has to be a pretty boy" so I dont have much to say about my choices, but i do think I succeeded. Don't mind the modern mullet thing, I can't stop it

Kyouya is definitely one of my favorite characters as is, seeing as he has one of the more fleshed out & heart-wrenching backstories in the show. I think the only thing I really wanted to change was getting rid of the Anime Bangs, so I just gave him this kinda sleek, kinda messy pushed-back look with a blue tint. Even though it's simple, I really struggled to come up with anything, until I found a page from the author saying smth like "I don't like the idea of him wearing neat clothes" with a picture of him in like a track suit so I did kinda the same outfit

My absolute #1 favorites, Hikaru & Kauru. They're honestly the ones that started it all because Kauru has been my favorite since I first saw the halloween episode (iykyk).

I don't know why, but I wanted their hair to be fluffier/curly and more of a natural(?) ginger color. I knew I wanted Kauru's to be redder and Hikaru's a bit lighter/blonder, but only subtly. I also gave Kauru a scar on his cheek from that time in Karuizawa, but most notably, I gave them blue and pink eyes as their signature colors. Lastly, their expressions are slightly different, because no matter how much they are in sync and try to match each other perfectly, Kauru's a much gentler soul than Hikaru, so I made Hikaru's smile a bit more snarky while Kauru's is soft.

Thank you for looking at my art/ reading my thoughts, here's an extra little design edit & comparison

(lol, I think they're mimicking Kyouya in this panel idek) (Also here you can see I tried the bun hairstyle w Mori, I think it looks good, but this is a really simple drawing so.)

#ouran high school host club #ouran hshc #haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh #kyouya ootori #mitskuni haninozuka #takashi morinozuka #hikaru hitachiin #Kauru hitachiin #character redesign #my fanart #my art #screenshot redraw #im hyperfixating again #ouran redesigns #33xhausted art

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lifeafterpsychiatry · 7 months ago

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Lord. Today has been such a day. I hope it's ok to just rant about it here, if not obviously feel free to delete!!

Got woken up at 1am because my mom needed to go to the ER for excruciating pain. So we load up and I take her. It takes an HOUR for them to even pay her any mind- and it's not because it was busy. We live in a small town, and there was literally nobody there waiting to be seen. We think they were ignoring her because she looked like she was having drug withdrawals (shaking, pale, she couldn't stop moving/fidgeting). They only came out to see her when I brought my little brother in, and they realized that she wasn't just there to try and get meds from the hospital (this is all speculation ofc, but I really can't imagine any other reason that 'nobody saw her'). I'm still so mad because she sat there for so long, crying in pain (my mom NEVER cries, so that's how I could tell it was really bad) and nobody even bothered to check on her for over an hour. It took another hour for her to get any pain relief and while the nurses were all really nice, I'm still incredibly upset that she had to endure it for so long.

Anyways. Mom's going to be fine, she's getting flown to a better hospital a couple hours away to get the problem dealt with. That's all good. I'm staying home with my brother, and my aunt is going to pick her up later today (hopefully; it might take a few more days). The only issue is that I'll need to meet with my little brothers father (not my dad) to drop him off for the weekend, and I hate the guy, but I can easily ignore him so it's fine.

I think it's the stress of coordinating 4 different people's schedules that put me so on edge (my aunt needs to know when my mom is leaving, my sister is coming 1400 miles to Nevada from Texas, my little brother needs to do his homework/get ready to go/be dropped off). Family keeps calling me because I'm the one who lives with my mom, but I don't have any updates, because I'm home looking after my brother. I feel terrible that I can't tell them anything else, but it's still frustrating when I'm trying to get the house cleaned up, take care of a worried 7-year-old, and answer calls just to repeat the same thing.

The final straw though was one of my cats. When my brother and I finally got home around 8am, we were having breakfast. I look over, and my cat is peeing on my moms lunchbox. I freaked out, because that's disgusting, and he had NO reason to do that- their box is perfectly clean, he's not a serial pee monster, he's never been in competition with the other cats. I don't understand why today, of all days, he would choose to make a mess.

I've spent the past hour and a half trying to clean it by hand because I can't just throw it in the washing machine (it has a cloth outside, but its not removable). He ALSO managed to pee on my brother's homework tower (a short, plastic 'filing cabinet' with drawers we keep his stuff in), and of course, it got inside some of the drawers. Luckily the only stuff I had to throw away was some construction paper and white printer paper, and the rest was untouched, but I still had to clean up a MASSIVE puddle of cat pee on the floor, and empty + wipe out four of the drawers.

So. Anyways. I'm not feeling solution-oriented right now, I'm just really angry that this is all happening at once and there's not really anything within my control besides making sure my brother keeps to his schedule. At least he's not too worried, but I've kind of been avoiding talking to him at the moment because I feel like I might snap at him when it's not his fault at all. I'm also avoiding the cat because, while I would never hurt an animal for doing something dumb, I'm still so mad about it. I'd much rather he'd have peed on something of mine.

Now I just feel super on edge, and I keep waiting for ANOTHER bad thing to happen, because at this point it just feels like the universe is out for blood. It's not even noon yet. It's barely 10am

I'm so sorry about all of this. Anti addict ableism is completely unacceptable and literally kills people. It's not like an addict can't ALSO be in excruciating pain/genuinely need urgent care. I'm glad your mom will be okay, but it makes me furious that she was neglected for hours because of prejudices against a potential addiction. And I completely understand that you're not in a good place right now. I'm sorry about the pee situation also, though it's important for me to note that the cat didn't CHOOSE to "make a mess" just to bother you - either he was a bit ill or it was simply an unfortunate accident.

#chat with kat #addiction tw #drugs tw #medical neglect tw #medical abuse tw #bodily fluids tw #unsanitary tw #pee tw

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bunnyboyzyon · 3 months ago

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Also, while it may not be my place, I have a suggestion for you:

Maybe cutting up your food into smaller pieces might help? Then, only plate some of it, and save the rest in case you do end up wanting it or will want it later. That way the small food is what’s on your plate rather than you cutting it on your plate and knowing it was meant to be bigger. When I was really struggling with food a few years ago (and tbh I still do this now), I picked stuff that was smaller so that way I didn’t feel nearly as guilty about eating it. So maybe the smaller sizes will feel less overwhelming to you if you already know that they’re smaller :) The only dietary restriction that I know you have is that you’re a vegetarian, so baby goldfish (not regular) could be good. If you don’t mind eating oranges rather than just juice, clementines! Blueberries! And if you’re able to do meal prep, you can make smaller portions for yourself in advance. This is just a suggestion, and you are more than welcome to ignore this tidbit!! Any food is always better than no food, and I’m so proud of how much progress youve made :3 With all the love in my heart, ur honorary sis 🧸

TUMBLR WHY WOULD YOU DELETE MY DRAFT

Sadly cutting things up doesn't work for me because food must be in its Original Form or it's inedible and only things that are meant to be cut like lasagna and pie may be cut but only in the correct way or I can't eat it because it's Wrong

I can't meal prep because I'll never be able to know what I want on any given day so any prepped food has to win the lottery or be destined to the freezer forever

A lot of small stuff is the same overwhelming as one big stuff and if I separate some small stuff out to get later I just will not eat it because it's now considered extra food

Anyways sonic and shadow nuzzles noses and no youtube I don't want to join the navy or the air force or the marines I don't know why you think I would when I watch exclusively pikmin videos

#bunny eating journey #daily homie checkup

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notiddygothgf · 26 days ago

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Sooo I’m so sad because I was mid typing this and it got deleted.

In any case, I can appreciate fucked up Aki, you know? I think it’s refreshing in comparison to previous things you’ve written about him.

On the topic of consent, I think that actually would actually be really mindful and thorough on the topic of consent.

I think of it this way, Aki has been in the BDSM scene for a while at this point. And, considering his feeling about Kenji and what he tried to do to the reader, I’d suggest he feels pretty strongly about consent. Even outside of the fact that he cares for the reader. Even still, I think he’s likely seen and experienced the repercussions of inadequate consent and transparency regarding boundaries, and once his relationship with the reader develops more, I think he might come to regret, or feel some guilt for the way he behaves her first time going into BDSM.

I do think, given the circumstances, it made sense that he wanted to “see if she could handle it” (also not saying I agree with it either) . However, I think he’ll (sooner rather than later) come to the realization that just because she WAS able to handle it; he couldn’t have known that for sure. And in any case, would any respectable person in the BDSM scene shame or not engage with someone else because they can’t handle something?

I won’t say that what he started with was super extreme, but I do think it was moderate in terms of BDSM at the time. And if she couldn’t handle it, what was he going to do? Say he couldn’t have that relationship with her?

(In no way is this criticism towards you, I just get frustrated with AKI lmao. You’re doing your job very well, I like feeling strongly about things I read)

I do have a question, though. So, whenever Aki said to “tap his thigh three times if he needed to stop”, i didn’t really know how manageable that sounded, you know? I mean. Handcuffed lmao… gagged… and, honestly, I’m not sure he was paying that much attention to it anyways. Good god I’m just harping on Aki I’m so sorry, I actually really really like this I proooooomise. I just like talking about this. He frustrates me oh so much.

Again, you are wonderful, and I love love love this story and everything you are doing to it and by no means is any of this criticism (of you, all criticism to this avoidant shit, Aki. I still love him) I just like to discuss the different viewpoints :)

Much loooove 💗

LMFFOAOAOAOAOAOAOA I love writing a deeply flawed ML bc it gets me just as frustrated trust me. HE WILL LEARN THROUGH HER TRUST but its just going to be some.... miscommunication first 😇

and like yeah like wtf is he on lowkey..... (me saying this like i didnt write toxic!aki )

IM SO GLAD U GET WORKED UP OVER IT THOUGH because that means im doing smth right. aki maybe taking the lead but HE HAS FLAWS!! he may be more knowledgeable about bdsm but he can certainly take a few pointers from y/n about sharing his feelings lol....

also thank you for the input 🫡🫡🫡 i need as much input as i can get because this is my first time writing smth so raunchy

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#ask notiddygxthgf ✧˖*°࿐#prnstar •

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kenta-torture · 2 months ago

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Heheheheh can you post another ramble if you have another idea i really love it take your time though >__<

take your time though.................->currently sifting through my brain for ideas. tips skull over and two snakes fall out. scratches head.

i think u people want a kenta mikoshiba character study. which is something ill probably do at some point actually but i need to finish the cds and loop through everything again. which i only do on school days so well see.

anyways breaking away from the kenta torture (hey thats my name!) the only kenta thing thats been on my mind lately is 2p and girl kenta. or like any aus. but 2p and girl kenta for today. its a ramble so there is no like end point here im spilling my brains

starting off with 2p. im a big fan of the idea of reverse/opposite characters because there are sooo many ways to oppose someones character. in the same way that there is no definitive opposite of happiness, you can argue that maybe anger or sadness or fear is the opposite, there isnt an objective way to make an evil kenta.

i say this all to say that i dont have a good grasp on 2p kenta actually. @/lechatalunette has a 2p(?) paradox live post that i consider like. one of the best ever (i also really like their art in general) which inverts the trait of him being a dickhead into like. an uwu poster. 2p kenta as a blogger to oppose how anonymous he normally is? taps head.

theres also a different direction(? kind of) you could drive 2p kenta into because there is like at least two main traits he has you could flip. what if he was tech stupid. think about it. you could also make him genuinely cruel/manipulative-> which is to say that normal kenta is not that. imo at least. like i think a lot of his bitchiness is a defense mechanism and he would prank/trick people into doing things but he wouldnt go that far. i think he just likes having control-> hey wasnt that director guy like an insanely major part of kentas character. which i get is the point of having a character have a trauma point(bad wording) but still thats kinda crazy 2 me lowkey.

moving onto girl kenta!!!!!!!!!!!!! i also have a hard time thinking about this because like. there are nuances i think im just not smart enough to think of them all. there was this post a while back of someone saying that when they do genderbends of characters it is the exact same. and no hate to that person like that idea doesnt harm anything it just bugs me. because imo a lot of a character writing/personality is affected by gender and like how society differs in reaction to them.

yaoi tangent thats in relation to this its just easier to explain what i mean with yaoi and yuri. obviously at its core they can be interchangeable like two girls who like each other that can be yuri but. there is always a sort of tension/comfortability that comes with gender that isnt always the same. like that one meme of girls who kiss or whatever could just be friends but its different for guys because that is a type of affection that isnt allowed for as much? i might delete this section later because this is with the nuances of gender that i do not get but there are certain things like affection that are seen differently depending on gender.

back to kenta. girl kenta. i think her behavior would be seen more as tsundere ism which i hate cant a girl just be a hater!!!!!!!! i honestly have no main points here i just think she should be even more annoying. i do think that maybe her backstory could be read a bit differently/i mean if you already see kenta's backstory to be that way it would just push it further ig.

rapid shot random kenta aus. i like to look at other series and see how to fit my favs in. milgram fuuta kenta. i think thats obvious from like t1 at least. if we were to base the rest of the au around this i say we have to make ryu amane. because i love kenta and ryu okay so like i read a take that kenta has an interest in ryu because he read alter trigger logs and saw that ryu was like one of the only ones to come out of it kind of normal. which is fine BUT i really like the idea that kenta is like blorbo attatched to ryu does anyone see my vision please please please. "god is talking on my birthday arent i blessed" that is how i talk about my muse my beloved my character of all time.

im into joseimukes if u couldnt tell... but the others ones i know are hypmic which is like. kenta is already a rapper. charisma house kenta is just charisma of. annoying. charisma of being a dickhead. im looking into boys be maids and like. you could put kenta there. he would be a shit maid as we already know though (butler but still...)

twst kenta would fall into iginhyde obv. he would probably bully tf outta idia if given the chance. twisted wonderland tangent but im lowkey a little pissed that iginhyde is only two characters. like the sidekick dumbasses from hercules are right there. and i get that their personalities dont really fit but AAAAAAAAAAH. pokemon kenta with a rotom who he tries to hack and make do things but it just goes "thats illegal ^_^" and kenta thinks of smashing it in with a brick.

anyways. im like out of ideas to talk about www if you have anything u want my opinion on or like to ramble abt. you can ask. it can be anything paradox live related i just know kenta (and. two other characters) best. im actually very surprised that there are atleast two people who like the rambles. i feel so thinker. kyaaaaaah

#kenta mikoshiba #i wrote the bulk of this while eating soup and a mint blizzard #which is kind of kenta cause its green yknow #anyways i leaned over for the soup #lifted up a chunk of meat and accidentally dropped it #splashed soup into my nose

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