RED TOPHAT GUY

repressed aromantic + platonically affectionate trophy.

FIRST OFF

that whole. "you'll always be single!"

he doesn't wanna admit this to himself bc he ended up being right. and considering his toxic masculinity, he'd probably view this as a moral failing even if paper apologized. which, the chances of are low, not because i think paper's a bad person, but because it seems to somehow take a very special person to understand these nuances and go out of their way for them, unfortunately. top this all off with a desire for physical affection, and it's just confusion and comphet all about.

SECOND OFF

the desire to be vulnerable may also be considered "weak," ergo, "less of a man." while that could well enough result in repressing those feelings when in a romantic relationship, it'd probably be tenfold if desired to be directed toward friends instead. most people aren't like that with their friends. it'd be considered... odd. idk if he wants to be considered odd. plus, without understanding all the details of these labels and such, it'd possibly just end up being confusing... that, and everyone would possibly label him as in love, yet in denial.

MY MII'S ARE AWEFUL/vpos

I for one feel like you’re a little too old for ball, don’t you think?

Polished bright in victory’s glow,

A hollow crown with a sharper show,

Handles raised like arms in pride,

Daring the world to step inside.

He gleams not just from golden skin,

But from the fire that burns within—

A need to win, to stand above,

Though lacking warmth, though void of love.

“Horseplay,” he laughs, with a mocking grin,

A game to him is a way to win,

Not by strength or honest fight,

But whispered schemes in shadowed light.

He kicks the weak from frozen ground,

Finds cruel delight in the falling sound,

Yet bows his head—just slightly so—

To strength that mirrors his own ego.

Oh Trophy, shining, cold, and tall,

Are you the winner… or nothing at all?

For what is gold if none will cheer,

If victory echoes, hollow, clear?

Still he stands, unbent, unkind,

A champion forged in a ruthless mind—

Not loved, not lost, not truly free,

Just chasing what he’ll never be.

Uh… is this a love poem or are you mocking me?