rosemaze-reveries

[rosemaze-reveries]

Amanda Gaddis x Reader headcanons

Warnings: no beta reader we die like Andrew Kreiss, suggestive content, apathetic Amanda, implied sapphic Amanda, GN reader, alcohol.

Headcanons under cut

🎩 you are very aware of her issues and all she asks of you is that you understand that she doesn’t want to be mean to you it’s just that she doesn’t see how what she says or does is mean.

🎩 for example, if she thinks you don’t look good in a certain outfit, she will tell you immediately. She thinks that since she’s being truthful then she’s being nice. Who wants to be lied to?

🎩 not someone you should vent to if you want someone to tell you you’re right, but she does give every helpful and honest feedback. If you’re being a jerk she will make it known. She is not a yes man.

🎩 huge flirt but in a very specific kinda sapphic way. Very serious until it reaches the “punchline” of the flirt where she compliments you. If she’s going through old photos of you she might tell you to smile so she can point out that you still have “the same pretty smile” or something like that.

🎩 it’s very unexpected and it’s very rare.

🎩 loves longer hair. She doesn’t like doing her hair because her scalp is tender, but if you allow then she’d never stop braiding yours. Whatever style you want she can do. Longer hair also means more hair to grab.

🎩 showers twice a day and brushes teeth after every meal, first thing in the morning, and before bed. She can’t stand when someone isn’t clean. If you’re depressed and can’t take care of yourself then she’ll do it for you. She will bush your teeth and wash you herself no matter how much of a fight you put up.

🎩 not the biggest fan of receiving in any way. She wants to initiate everything and wants to be the dominant figure in every situation. Especially if you’re larger and more intimidating than her, then she gets the biggest sense of pride possible.

🎩 her lips are really dry and cracked due to her constant chewing on her them. Kissing might be a little uncomfortable but she tries to make up for it by letting you kiss other parts of her. Even if you say you don’t mind, she insists that you deserve better than her blistered and bloodied lips—unless you’re into that.

🎩 very soft and flat body and very soft and flat breasts. She doesn’t usually like receiving much touch, but she will accept it occasionally. She doesn’t like to admit it but it feels nice knowing you want to feel her (and grope her breasts).

I’m a pervert sorry.

🎩 doesn’t leave situations she knows is bad. Things aren’t usually bad for her, but they might be for you or someone else. She knows how to flip something on its head and is not easy to manipulate by any means. She’ll certainly let you try though.

🎩 likes cheese, coffee and wine. Manor AU ahead, but she goes to the bar a lot and drinks with Antonio, Sangria, Richard, Joseph and Demi. She doesn’t choose to be with them specifically, but they’re always at the bar at the same time as her. She doesn’t really get drunk often, but when she does it’s not all that different. Also coffee keeps her from being 100% exhausted everyday—she has no clue it’s making her sleep even worse.

🎩 doesn’t sleep regularly but loves to watch you sleep. If you have insomnia or just can’t sleep then she has many remedies. None of them work on her anymore, but she’d love to experiment them on you if it means you get to rest.

[rosemaze-reveries]

twirls around in a bit circle while jumping up and down

how are you prim?! It’s been such a long time, and I wanna check up on my oomfs

picks you up & spins around

IM GOOODDD hope you've been well too cupiid 🥹💗 lowkey I disappeared because I got really fixated on coffee (/as a barista) and it's all I've been thinking about these past few months

I WISH I COULD GIVE A BETTER REASON but it's really just that ijbol

[rosemaze-reveries]

I just realized you've never written anything for Frederick Kreiburg. What did he do to you...

kreiburgs don't get rights here 😔 jk

actually it's funny you bring this up because the thing is.. when frederick was released he abruptly upturned our entire understanding of mary's narrative. and i'm a mary glazer before anything. so I felt like I lost my wife and it was frederick's fault 💔

this is true btw i was mad at him for a solid year

but on a serious note i actually do find him cute & his character seems right up my alley LOL

i just 💔💔💔 THIS HOMEWRECKER

[rosemaze-reveries]

― crescendo

the ripper (knight in the forest) x you you get rocket chaired (thats it)

⚠️ graphic violence

I wrote this a loooong time ago but refrained from posting because it's so different from my usual genre. it was fun practice, though.

For Jack, the thrill of the chase is best savored slowly.

He keeps a level pace through each of his hunts, never straying from his step-turn-step that he accompanies with a sweet whistle. Tangled patches of moss and fronds cling to his rusted armor, while the vines sprouting out from inside wind around his limbs and sway above the dirt behind him. Despite the overgrowth that binds him, his strides remain fluid; he doesn’t compromise grace on his favorite dance.

Do not rush. Do not get ahead of yourself. Let the sound of your steady footwork sink into your prey, let your hums rattle through their skulls, let your presence whittle away their spirits, step by step. These are the rules that dictate his routine and only he knows how to execute them. His partner is unaware of this dance they share until they are lost in the rhythm, too caught up in the night to break away. Every move is deliberate and unhurried. Yet he always catches up.

“Ah…!”

Too easy.

Predictably, his little runaways will soon collapse in his path. You skid to your knees hard enough for the skin to rub away, but can’t find the courage to glance at the figure behind you. An instinctive fingertip brushes over your skinned knee before you prop yourself up, ready to force your legs into carrying you just a little further. But you don’t get the chance. The footsteps come to a still behind you, and your captor’s lips purse with a triumphant tut.

“Aw,” Jack coos. “It’s hardly a hunt when you don’t put up a fight.”

You flinch when he tugs you by the scalp, stretching you up to eye level. Brown eyes peer at you through the slits in his helm, clearly gloating over this turn of events.

“That agility you’re so proud of failed you when you needed it most, hm? Petty alliances never were your forte. You and I are similar in that regard.”

His words bite, churning your stomach in coils. There were eight of you at the beginning—and one by one they were plucked away by the vines and willows until you were among the last few left. Now you’ve been caught too, and all because you tripped over your own two feet. Maybe you deserve it. You never went back for the others.

“Fuck off,” you spit, each word swallowed under your heavy gasps. Your head is swimming. Dark spots gather in your peripheral like a march of mad ants, dutifully closing in from the edges. You aren’t sure how much longer you can keep your eyes open. Your nails claw into Jack’s arm, desperate to struggle free, but with the wind knocked from your lungs and each of your senses flickering out, you hardly leave a scratch.

“You are a plucky little thing,” he continues, unconcerned about the thrashing lump of limbs in his arms. He tosses you into a nearby chair. “Were you not direly unaccompanied by a single rational thought, I might even call it admirable.”

“I’ll kill you,” is your immediate response. Flinging out juvenile threats like that is so predictable of you that Jack can’t suppress the chuckle under his breath. You can’t stand him. Your temper was already sour before running into him, but he seems to get a kick out of stoking the fire.

“I’ll kill you,” you hiss again, as if a second time might cement your resolve. He doesn’t give you the usual taunt that time. The silence irks you more. You can imagine how he must be amusing himself with the thought: I’d like to see you try.

Those familiar leather straps bind your forearms and a rush of nausea courses through you. Jack, as usual, is thoughtful enough to cinch around the most tender parts of your wrists. It shocks a shrill yelp out of you. By tonight, you’ll have a new pair of red rings to join the mottled spread up your arm. All marks leftover from yesterday’s encounters with him.

Some final threats fall from your lips—or try to, at least. Whatever comes out doesn’t seem to be anything comprehensible.

“Babbling like a madman already?” you hear Jack jeer. “That won’t save you, you know.” His voice is distant, as if muffled underwater. The only tangible proof you have of his presence is the gentle fingertip that’s tracing up your neck. But that brief tenderness collapses when he grabs your jaw to wrench you forward. “Wouldn’t you prefer to wear some dignity as you go down?”

Something poisonous bubbles up inside you then. You respond by spitting a mouthful of blood in his face, missing his eye by an inch. Forcing him to grimace in offense is all you really can do now. But he won’t even give you that. Instead his lips curl up, tongue sliding over his cheek, tasting the mess you made, tasting you.

Stubborn to the end, is what that musing look on his face tells you. You can’t touch him. Any struggle made against him now will only spark a new pleasure for him to lap up. It’s not in your character to back down without a fight; you would try to wrestle out of those shackles until your nerves were severed and stiff. Jack knows that about you. He’s waiting for the show he’s certain you’ll give him.

Maybe you are too stubborn. You’re playing into his hand anyway. You thrust the sole of your boot square against his core, which he evades by gracefully stepping back.

“I wouldn’t try to anger the one holding your leash,” he reminds you. “Not that you’ve ever listened to me. Remember that? You really ought to have run before the others realized what a snake you are.” Jack’s brows crease, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “No one left is willing to rescue you now.”

“I don’t care,” you bark. “They’ve always been a bunch of deadweights.”

“You’re so cruel. I would have applauded them for their efforts. They all fought to the end,” he says. Then, as if lost in his own musings, “I’m terribly curious. Does it torment you now, knowing you let that small mercy I offered you slip?”

“I don’t care,” you say again. He has given you “chances” to flee ever since you set foot in the forest, but that has been a habit of his for as long as you’ve been stuck in this game. You never had any chance of escaping—he is just fond of saving your hunt for last.

You wish you could swallow down any kind of reaction. But there’s little you can do to stifle the tremors seething through you now. Jack stands from a distance, taking his time to observe the spectacle in front of him: from the creak and grind of the chair as you fight its bindings, to the frenzied glint in your eye, spearing through him with the rage of a scissor blade buried in a throat.

This is perfect. Better than perfect, even. The final step is the most gratifying part of every dance and Jack will always ensure that it’s duly savored.

[rosemaze-reveries]

Are you still alive 😭🙂‍↔️

yah im still here !! life is just hectic (in a good way)!

tbvh i'm in the throes of figuring out my life and i have so much on my plate. but maintaining this blog would help me stay sane i think. so i'll try to be consistent again ^^

[rosemaze-reveries]

hullabaloo is the physical manifestation of mike's grief & despair and is adamant that survivor!mike will only break your heart someday

he failed his family twice already, why do you think he'll change for you?

so when mike finds a new love at the manor, hullabaloo gets attached to you too... but maybe he's mostly just compensating for the guilt

( ^ the idea that inspired last post) (i did not capture this like i hoped 😭)

[rosemaze-reveries]

― patchwork love

"hullabaloo" x you hullabaloo is jealous of your relationship with his survivor counterpart

Hullabaloo dangles his legs off the banister, back turned to the hallway as he overlooks the foyer below. He’s been here long enough that he’s given names to the stains on the walls. Not many manor guests roam the halls this late—unless they’re up to something, like he is—but the tedium of staring at stains and counting where the ceiling paint chips off is boring him to tears. Even so, he has no intention of leaving.

You’ll be out soon. He just needs to wait a little longer, when you’re sure no one will run into you on your way back. You’ve locked yourself away inside the library with the acrobat again. It’s your nightly little game that Hullabaloo caught onto a long time ago. You’re always the first to emerge, bringing back a stack of books in case someone asks. Mike lingers for a few minutes more before he slinks back to his own room.

Hullabaloo couldn’t guess who you were trying to hide your relationship from. Mike is far from the private type, and you’re not so afraid of manor gossip that you’d guard it this closely. He’s almost positive that these clumsy theatrics must be meant for him. Unfortunately, Hullabaloo knows Mike better than anyone, and he was the first to see through it all.

When the sound of the library door clicks open, Hullabaloo listens to you gingerly pad down the hall. He pretends he doesn’t notice your soft footsteps until they freeze behind him. Call it a hunter’s intuition, but he swears he can hear your heart leap from your chest. He drapes his makeshift shawl tightly around his shoulders, jumps off the banister, and lands in front of you with his torso twisted upside down.

“You’re late,” he greets, frayed lips stretching into a lazy smile.

Any surprise that might’ve held your features hardens into a furrowing look. “Why are you here?”

As he straightens his posture, you swat him out of your face, not particularly eager to see him. He should know this by now. But it’s just like Mike to cling at your heels until you finally toss him the attention he wants. And you suppose giving one Mike your affections is bound to get the other a little jealous sometimes. Their similarities run deeper than the likeness they share, too deep to be a charade, as much as your Mike likes to insist that “Hullabaloo” is just a dishonest specter of the manor. Specters will say anything to gain your trust, he thinks. He might be right. But you can’t help it. The shadows of Mike you see in Hullabaloo feel just like home. You have to shut out his advances at the first sign of them, otherwise you’ll confuse which one holds your heart.

Hullabaloo’s lips pucker into a mopey pout. “Can’t I worry about you staying up all night?” He points to his eyes, which are stained with streaks of ash. “Your eyebags will end up looking like mine.”

“I’m sure you’d love it if we matched,” you say. He humphs at your dull comment, having expected something a little pluckier. Your evenings with Mike usually leave you meek and daisy-eyed. You’re supposed to seem lighter on your feet with that hopeless lilt in your voice, even if Hullabaloo was the last person you wanted to be seeing. It’s subtle today, but you’re a touch more bitter than what he’s used to. So when you decide the conversation is finished and you turn on your heel, Hullabaloo leaps up again, somersaulting over you to block your path.

“You’re glum today,” he observes. “Is it because of ‘him’?”

His remark sours your already bitter mood. A tired scoff escapes you. “Mind your business.”

“When has saying that ever worked on me?” He grins and reaches over to pinch your nose, spooking an undignified squeak out of you. “Also, you forgot something. Anything involving your Prince Charming is my business. My name is Mike too, remember?”

Somewhere in the back of your head, a voice bubbles up to remind you not to believe a word Hullabaloo says. He’s just a phantom conjured by the manor. You have no proof of it, but that’s what your Mike believes, and it’s the only explanation you can settle on considering the circumstances. Obviously there can only be one Mike Morton. The one in front of you is just messing with your head.

“Maybe, but you aren’t my Mike,” you insist.

“That’s right!” he chirps, happy to agree. He isn’t put off by your comment in the slightest. If anything, he nuzzles closer into you for a doting embrace. Messy blonde curls brush against your temple, and the springs in his limbs contract as they reel you into his hold.

“Are you even listening to me?” you huff, tugging at the coils of metal where his elbows would be. You’ve learned from experience that any attempt at prying him off you never goes anywhere. Whenever you think you’ve shaken yourself loose, those springs snap back with twice the grip. Hullabaloo lets out a cheeky hum.

“I am, I promise! Your Mike gets on my nerves anyway.”

“I feel that way about you.”

“Why? We’re practically the same person!”

Now you’re going in circles. Hullabaloo’s distaste for the acrobat is something he’s never been very subtle about. You don’t care to ask how he can feel so bitterly towards someone he views as “practically” himself—maybe it’s because he understands him so well—but he’s right that their resemblance does tend to blur them together.

You see it in moments like these, when Hullabaloo clings to you tight and you can count the scattering of freckles that dot his cheeks. Each one mirrors the face of the acrobat you know. He even has that same dimple when he smiles. Although it’s not as visible under the stretches of his torn lips, you know every little divot that makes up Mike’s features.

His hands are warm, too. Compared to Mike, his fingers are long and spindly, and his skin is fractured like the cracks in a mirror, but the tenderness remains unchanged. Those touches of his leave an odd sensation roiling around the pit of your stomach. His hold feels different but so vaguely familiar.

Sometimes, your heart starts to waver. You nearly catch yourself thinking that even if you are just being tricked by a ghost, it wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“Wanna know how I can tell we're different?” Hullabaloo asks, unhooking himself from you. He rests his palms against your shoulders with a triumphant smile. “There's one reason!”

You suppose you have to take the bait. “What is it?”

Those lanky arms reach up to your face, dabbing a thumb to your cheek. His smile changes slightly, into something more rueful and bittersweet. “I'm not the one who makes you cry.”

[rosemaze-reveries]

happy new years ahhhh !! 🎆🎇

hopefully you’re feeling better !! any fun resolutions to start with this year? :)

(+ have you gotten [or want] any of the new costumes in idv shop/gacha? :3)

happy 2025 🎉

actually. yes. so many goals this year, I feel like a chihuahua confused on where to allocate my energy. but to keep things on brand i want to finish this Jack wip I have 💔 I’m also really into Matthias/Evelyn/Florian/Richard as a group♡ they’re like the new VALE to me. so I wanna do something involving them someday too hehe

this is probably vv predictable of me but i’ve been SO hyped for alice’s new skin 😔✌️ omg she’s just so georogues. and rosa came home too

gachawise I hoped for COA matthias, but, you know,

whatever

anyway, goodluck on your pulls too if you’re going for anyone!! i know we all need it omg. i forgot coa was starting and got jumpscared by the million essences that suddenly appeared

[rosemaze-reveries]

NOOO I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON</3

hopefully your fever goes away by new years :’3 giving you all of my good health and wishing you a quick recovery

tysm i appreciate uu ♡♡ i'm feeling much better already

[rosemaze-reveries]

im so embarassed of sending asks but I LOVED YOUR LAST POST. Idk what to say, but could you do character analysis? If you only write as x reader it could be relationship hc or analisys of how they act w reader JUST DO YOUR MAGIC 💗💗💗💗

੭⠀ A deeper look into the relationship.

⋆⠀AUTHOR’S NOTES: I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted or which character you had in mind, but here it is! If it’s not quite what you had in mind, feel free to send another ask. By the way, to the people who sent requests,thank you! I’ll be posting soon, I just need a little time to write 🫶🏻

⋆⠀FEATURING: Frederick Kreiburg 'Composer'.

⋆⠀WARNING: This post contain spoilers of Ashes of Memory and Frederick’s backstory.

The room was silent. Frederick stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the faint glow of moonlight. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I never planned on letting anyone get this close.” His fingers tapped idly against the windowsill, a subtle betrayal of his nerves. “But now… I can’t imagine leaving without you.” He finally turned, his eyes meeting yours. “Tell me you’ll come with me. That this—whatever this is—wasn’t a mistake.”

⋆⠀Frederick grew up carrying more burdens than he could handle. His father’s rejection, combined with his disorder, instilled in him a constant need to distance himself from others to feel “safe.” The disappointment of realizing he didn’t inherit the natural talent that ran in his family’s veins didn’t help either, and his paranoia only worsened over time.

⋆⠀His perception of the people around him is always the same—neutral, if he even cares enough about them to give them any space in his mind. So, when you were introduced, Frederick was polite and brief, treating you just like anyone else who had entered the manor.

⋆⠀His thoughts about you only began to change after you confronted Orpheus for overstepping into matters that were none of his business. At first, Frederick assumed you were just a people pleaser trying to lower his guard. However, later that same day, he overheard you chatting with Alice and Melly once again, telling them about how you were against being so impolite and disrespectful.

⋆⠀The closeness between you two didn’t happen overnight, but small gestures and actions here and there gradually allowed you both to feel at ease in each other’s presence. He listened to you, engaged in normal conversations, and stopped giving short replies just to end the discussion. He even waited for you to arrive at the table before starting to eat. For others, it was surprising to see Frederick interacting without being defensive, though they simply assumed it was a budding friendship.

⋆⠀In the beginning, that’s all it was. Frederick wasn’t exactly thrilled about having someone he could call a friend, but he wasn’t upset about it either. When he realized his feelings were changing, though, he tried to deny them to himself. Yet, seeing how futile that was, he was left with only one option: acceptance.

⋆⠀Being in a relationship with him can be complicated. Even if he trusts you, he’s unlikely to let you know much about his past—unless it directly affects your relationship. The thought of you abandoning him is something he cannot bear, and he is willing to do anything to prevent that, from killing to opening up about some past traumas.

⋆⠀Frederick’s paranoia is no secret. He feels not only jealousy but also a deep-seated anger toward anyone who dares to take your attention away from him. He firmly believes that people have ill intentions when they approach you and wants you to believe that as well. And if you dismiss it? Oh, God, either he’ll manipulate you with tears, or he’ll accuse you of betraying him.

⋆⠀If you ever get upset with him, he’ll send romantic letters, dedicate songs to you, and do things straight out of a romance novel. Part of these actions can be a sincere apology; the rest, although, can also be just an attempt to make you forget whatever mistake he made.

⋆⠀Above all, once you agree to be his partner, Frederick will include you in his plans for life after leaving the manor. Even if he doesn’t fully explain what those plans entail, one thing is certain—leaving you behind is not an option for him.

[rosemaze-reveries]

merry christimas/happy holidays

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! 🎄☃️✨️ thank you for thinking of me. hope you have a very restful holiday♡

I've been feeling kinda loopy these days! I had a huge energy high on xmas eve, and I MEAN ITTTT omg such a fun time, it still doesn't feel real. then i crashed on xmas day with an ugly fever. i guess thats one way to force yourself to rest LOL. so if you need me 🫵 i'm in bed doing nothing but blowing my nose smh 💀🤙

[rosemaze-reveries]

just felt like sharing a headcanon i thought of like yesterday so,you know how norton has that passive that increases his healing speed? that spawned a new headcanon in my head(mostly trying to make that passive make sense,but hear me out i think this is both sad and cute): norton's actually really good with his hands(as in,he's actually a good massagist as well as well as generally good at handling wounds)

1-due to how often he got hurt he ended up getting used to taking care of his own bruises and cuts,obviously he's no doctor but he's still above average when it comes to it,and because of how physically taxing mining can be he probably had to massage his own muscles every now and then to lessen any soreness.

2-his deduction mention him taking care of old miners every now and then and i can imagine him putting those skills to use occasionally here,still his hands would feel pretty rough on your skin unless there's like a layer of massage cream or cloth over it. anyways what do you think of it?

HH HHANDS.!! HANDS. yes im a huge fan of this idea

he knows how to work the ball of his palm right into that knot you thought you'd never reach,, even though his hands are coarse they're so warm that it seeps through your shirt just right T_T

one of my favorite hcs for him is that he's so used to Just Suffering Through It™️ that he doesn't bat an eye at survivalist care that might freak out the average person. like if he fractured a leg or whatever he'd just casually duct tape a random plank to his shin and go on with his day

sometimes he sneezes so hard he pops a blood vessel in his eye and you'd be like ??? is this guy ok like actually. (he didn't even notice)

or you could ask him something innocuous like "do you like spicy food" and he'd just say "yeah im fine" but he gets a flashback to that one time he accidentally burnt the nerves off his tongue so he doesn't even register the heat anymore

[rosemaze-reveries]

okay guys. after that last request, i REALLYYYY had to dig for this one.

and yes. that means i had to turn to….. q-q-q-quotev….

BUTT FEAR NOT, I have found ONE SINGULAR ONESHOT of our clown, which I will link below.

I haven’t read it yet, I haven’t seen if it’s any good, but I will take any crumb and share it with you all <3

https://www.quotev.com/story/12075531/Identity-V-Oneshots-Hiatus/25

(24th chapter)

There’s 82 total, and quite a good amount of characters I don’t usually see written for.

I’ll report back to the group once I read some more from this writer🫡

WEEPING CLOWN LOVERS ASSEMBLE !!!!

(referring to this post) + here's a clickable link to the quotev fic

i think this fic was written before weeping clown was even released LOL talk about a relic from the past 🥹 thank u for foraging for us dear snowyaika

[rosemaze-reveries]

ONLY SAW THIS NIW SINCE IVE BEEN WORKING BUT OH MY,,

NAIB ALWAYS MAKES ME MELT, LIKE GOD YES PLS KISS ME STUPID AND MAKE ME URS<3

work has been stressing me, so hopping online to see stuff about my boys makes me so happy

AAHGKJ ♡♡♡ wishing u so many naib posts on your TL this month

im getting to this late for the same reason teehee☆ (wiping my tears) every year im blindsided by how brutal holiday rushes can get </3

[rosemaze-reveries]

thoughts on william? figured it was good time to ask since his EP just dropped

he reminds me so much of that one meme where person A is like "i think i just pulled a muscle in my tongue" and the other guy is like this:

his energy is so cute+refreshing i think it's hard not to like him on some level 😔🤙 but his writing direction often has me like ???? to the point that i might prefer him in fanon/AUs

sometimes it feels like he's just a catalyst for servais and naib's narratives rather than his own character. honestly i seesaw a lot between thinking "his writing is stale" and "no no maybe i just haven't deepdived enough into game 9" 🧐 i kinda find it funny how he has such tame priorities compared to everyone else, like he's just a guy,,!!! but I've been consistently wishing he had just a little more

[rosemaze-reveries]

is it just me or is there like no weepy appreciation in the idv community, I scrambled almost every fanfic place and I found loke 5 things with weepy.. yours included... 😭😭

YES GIRL I KNOW. I KNOW!! I USED TO BE A DESOLATE WEEPY KISSER TOO. Literally praying so bad that the weepy bug will bite more of us especially after closing night 🚬🗿

all of his skins have sm potential too, i want to be dragged into the sea by swallow of deception, i want fireworks guy to design a light show that lovingly spotlights every angle of his crush's face but he bugs out whenever he actually talks to them, i want to watch pickman consumed by his love and madness with every portrait he paints of you, i want to see netherwalker remember the last vestiges of his love for you and try in vain to guide you out of the abyss, or realize he'd prefer to keep you there halfway through, i want canon weepy to find his true love and settle down in a quiet fishing village somewhere, i also want him to explode all over again and beg for your forgiveness while doused in blood & with a chainsaw in hand, i think he's so cute i need all of it

[rosemaze-reveries]

is it okay for us to just drop random rants about our favorites on your ask box? just making sure before i send anything

omg yes absolutely let me be your confessional