Lovely Character. I Need Him To Finally Break Down Sobbing Clutching His Chest Like It'll Stop The Pain

Asking out on a date

"So... you free on Friday?"

"There is a new restaurant down the street. Maybe you would like to try it out together?"

"I wanted to ask for a while, so... can I take you out on a date?"

"Tell me a time and a place and I'll be there."

"Let's skip the small talk and just go on a date."

"I have a book full of date ideas. Can you help me trying them out?"

"Hey, I've got this wild idea: you, me, and a cup of coffee. What do you say?"

"I'm going to pick you up, you don't need to worry about anything. You just need to be pretty. Which shouldn't be a problem, since you always are."

"Should we make it official with a real date?"

"I dreamed about us going on a date. Should we make it a reality?"

"There's this fancy restaurant I'd like to try, but I'm sure the food will taste better if you are there with me."

"I could show you a good time."

"So, this was basically a date right? Wanna try a real one?"

"I think I found the perfect date spot. Care to try it out?"

"Let's take this to the next level and go on a date together."

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Writing Prompt #6

I’m lost, I’m so lost. How could I ever be seen as lovable in your eyes?

10 Secrets Your Character Is Desperately Hiding (and Probably Will Until They Die or Get Drunk Enough to Confess)

╰ They moonlight as an absolutely awful stand-up comedian.

They don’t just tell bad jokes, they commit to them. We’re talking full costume, dollar-store wigs, a fake name like “Chuckles McSuffer,” and punchlines that make people groan so hard their souls briefly exit their bodies. And....they love it. The stage is the only place they feel weirdly free… which is why no one in their real life can ever know. Ever.

╰ They can dance like their life depends on it, but they never do it in public.

We’re talking footwork that would make a music video jealous. Rhythm in their bones. But they’ve decided the world isn’t ready. Or maybe they’re not. So they only dance alone in the kitchen at 2 a.m. Or in the middle of a supermarket aisle when they think no one’s looking. And when they do get caught? “Nope. That wasn’t me. That was… a spasm. Mind your business.”

╰ They’re secretly freakishly good at imitating animals.

Birds. Dogs. Goats. Snakes. They’ve got the sounds, the gestures, the whole weird little zoo living inside them. It’s the kind of skill you don’t admit to having because it’s impossible to explain how it started or why you’re so good at it. They only let it out when alone… or, let’s be real, when they’re trying to impress someone and immediately regret it.

╰ They are the office prankster. And no one suspects a thing.

Every missing stapler, glitter bomb, whoopee cushion, and mysteriously replaced family photo? That’s them. The mild-mannered barista/accountant/space pilot you’d never suspect. They’ve got an entire prank calendar hidden in their sock drawer and a spreadsheet of targets and outcomes. But they also have boundaries. No emotional damage. Just chaos.

╰ They have a full-on karaoke alter ego.

Different name. Different voice. Whole new personality. They sneak off to karaoke bars in the next town over wearing sunglasses indoors and croon power ballads like their soul is trapped in a 2005 romcom montage. Their go-to number is “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Their real friends have no idea. And if they ever found out? This character would simply evaporate.

╰ They collect the weirdest sh*t you’ve ever seen.

Not stamps. Not coins. Try: novelty rubber ducks. Ugly fridge magnets. Cursed porcelain dolls. Empty chip bags from every country they’ve visited. Their closet is one shelf away from being a museum of “What Even Is This.” No one knows. No one must know. It brings them joy. It’s their version of peace. And yeah, it’s a little creepy. But it’s theirs.

╰ They cannot cook to save their life. Like, not even toast.

They once set a salad on fire. The microwave fears them. Every “simple recipe” turns into a crime scene. But instead of admitting it, they just… lie. Constantly. “Oh yeah, I made that!” (They did not. Their neighbor did. And their neighbor swore never to speak of it again.) They’ve mastered the art of deflection, distraction, and showing up with “store-bought but plated nicely.”

╰ They live their life by a bunch of completely nonsensical superstitions.

Never wear green on Wednesdays. If a pigeon looks at you sideways, cancel your plans. Salt must be thrown over the right shoulder or the demons will know. They’ve got a ritual for everything, from writing emails to picking socks. But no one knows they believe this stuff, because they make it look casual. Strategic coincidence. That’s the game.

╰ They throw underground dance parties in their basement. Alone. In costume.

Disco ball? Check. Fog machine? Obviously. Elaborate themed playlists? You bet. Their Tuesday nights are sacred: just them, their playlist called “Sad but Funky,” and a new costume every week. No one suspects. Not the roommates. Not the neighbors. If anyone ever found out, they’d lie and say it was for a friend’s child’s birthday. Every week. Sure.

╰ Their hobbies are… specific. And objectively hilarious.

Like, not “I read books and do yoga” hobbies. More like: competitive pillow fighting. Binge-watching bug documentaries and taking notes. Collecting socks with political slogans. Writing erotica starring finger puppets (don’t ask). They act normal, mostly. But their browser history is a carnival. And their heart? Pure chaos.

I had a really weird experience with my teacher the other day.

Now for context, he's not my teacher. I had him for calculus last year after I switched from AB to on-level and got a near 100 in the class. I signed up for a teacher assistant position with him, thinking I'd be helping teach calculus. Nope. I ended up being a TA for Algebra 1 instead.

He's a very... interesting person, to say the least, and I've heard really mixed things about him over the year. I don't know where he stands on any issue I care about very much. I haven't had the courage to ask him about AI. I don't think he particularly cares for politics that much—not that I particularly care what he thinks—and has given very mixed responses on things. He seems to like Elon Musk, as he said that we're "Very fortunate to be in a time with him in it" or something of the sort because of what he did with electric cars.

But one thing I am absolutely certain of is that he doesn't like psychology and said at one point in front of the class of freshmen that I want to pursue a career in "stupid science." Now, mind you, there are at least two other kids in that class who want to go into psychology for a career. Which is awesome. I love that people have a passion for studying the mind.

He said that therapists (in a different instance) are hurting people more than helping people, and if I want to be a therapist, then I should just open a workout therapy place and call it a day. Because, according to him, workout is just as affective against Depression as antidepressants it's for mild depression, mild depression you ignorant fuck not major depressive disorder-- -_-

Anyway, I noticed that the kids in my class are making some rather inappropriate jokes about schizophrenia and being gay (which isn't a mental disorder, but I heard some distasteful comments that I couldn't let go unnoticed) before the break, and I had a long time to think on it, so when I came back, I asked Mr. Algebra teacher if I could talk to the class about how what they were saying wasn't okay.

He said that I have two minutes at the end of class, which isn't nearly enough time for me to talk about everything, but whatever. What struck me as odd and probably a Red Flag was how he kept trying to refute it and say that I shouldn't talk about it too seriously because they're just being immature. I made the argument that, yes, it's immature but it's also perpetuating stigmas that we don't want going around that can seriously hurt people and that what they were saying wasn't okay regardless. He said that people back in middle school said worse things like the r-word (which was also said here, but I didn't mention it), and I said sure but this is still bad as well. He said that I WAS RIGHT TO DO THIS AND SHOULD DO THIS 99 percent of the time, and internally I was just like why are you arguing with me and trying to backtrack this accomplishes nothing. He told me that I shouldn't expect for the issue to be resolved completely. I said I didn't expect it to.

I go up there and deliver my very awesome speech that he interrupted to make me get to my point faster, I guess. After I finished, he pulled me to the side and asked me what went well and what didn't. Which just felt... weird? I said that I think it went really well overall and that I didn't think anything was wrong. He said that he wished I didn't group the conversation about the gay stuff with the conversation about the schizophrenia and ocd stuff. To me, it felt like a very clear connection but oh well. He reiterated that I shouldn't expect to see much change. I said okay.

It's been almost a month.

GUESS WHO HASN'T HEARD A SINGLE COMMENT ABOUT SCHIZOPHRENIA, GAY INSULTS, OR ANYTHING REGARDING CALLING ANOTHER CLASSMATE OCD?

ME.

Take that, Mr. Algebra teacher.

It's the little wins that help me make it through the day, but honestly, this one is just completely boosting my self-esteem and confidence about being in the psychology field in the future.

twenty years across the sea

The dread is here again. Has it ever left? I will never know. Will I go insane? Absolutely.

See you in 5 months when the dread lessens.

The FUCKING dread got me again

feels like fake news