Kyraa

I love P1 Dude so much it physically hurts me. I love him in his late twenties. I love him in his early twenties. I love to see him drawn as a pretty boy. I love to see him drawn as an ugly creep. I love when people picture him as a gun nut conspiracy theorist. I love when people picture him as a good Catholic boy with immense guilt. I love when people picture him as a war vet with PTSD. I love him as a sad loner. I love him as a struggling father. I love to see him skinny. I love to see him with a bit of muscle. I love it when he's bitter and guarded. I love him when he's weird and off putting. I love him when he's shy and sweet. I love him when he's on his healing arc. I love him when he's completely lost it. I love his paranoid delusions. I love his religious psychosis. I love his self-harm scars. I love his gun fetish. I love his acne. I love his long flowing metalhead hair. I love his filthy, ratty hair. I love his preppy sweater. I love his trench coat. I love his straitjacket. I love his green eyes clearly visible. I love his eyes hidden behind his shades. I love him wearing a golden cross. I love him wearing a silver cross. I love all possible imaginings of him.