“I love that character,” I say as I come up with upsetting headcanons for them. “Absolutely adore them,” I tell you as I bunny up sad story ideas for them. “They’re my favorite,” I sigh as I pick the most depressing songs for a playlist for them.
“I just want them to be happy,” I insist as I write horribly angsty oneshots centered around their misery.
“My son,“ I say as I think warmly about his broken body huddled on the ground.
“I love you so much”, I say, as I fill them with self hatred.
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Marshmellowmilktea 