#doll answers

[angelicribbons]

OOO! Vox would totally use hypnosis on reader to make us regress when we're being stubborn. Just "Okay, no more big girl time. You're my little baby doll now." Then when we're in babyspace, he'd totally pretend we did it willingly, condescending baby talk and all. (I'm a sucker for forced regression, I'm sorry if you're not comfortable with it).

I’m gonna be honest, there’s nothing I can name (off the top of my head) that I’m not comfortable with. I will tell you if I am always!! This sounds adorable and I’m all for it<33

(I’m saying this is the same reader from the one where they accidentally regressed, so it’s a similar scene)

It was getting ridiculous. You repressed your regression too often. And the problem was that Vox could so tell when you wanted to slip! Just a bit of hypnosis wouldn’t hurt. You’d be fine. Probably better, honestly! Vox walked into the shared bedroom like normal, relaxed to see you in your daily nightly routine, reading a book. Recently, your shoulders have been more tensed up all day. And tonight was no different. He climbed into bed with you. You didn’t even spare him one glance. Yeah, that was unusual, you so needed to wind down. Vox grabbed your chin and turned it to him. “Wh-“ You started, but was promptly shut up by his lips crashing onto yours. You sighed. This was pretty nice. You wouldn’t object to a kiss. He pulled away and spirals formed in his left eye, making you stop and pause. “There you go, little one.. watch the pretty spirals. Don’t those make you feel nice and small? A sweet little baby like you shouldn’t be so big right now.. don’t you wanna be daddy’s little baby for tonight?” You felt soft.. mushy..mph..words…..were getting.. hard. so were… thoughts.. mnghh…..daddy.. “Mnh..” You stumbled out, earning Vox’s chuckle. “There we go… my little baby doll. Good. Cmere, aren’t thoughts getting too hard..? Let daddy think for you. And I think, my little doll should get their warm bottle before bed.. yeah?” Vox picked you up and peppered your pretty thoughtless little face with gentle kisses. “Good baby doll.”

I love writing hypnosis<3

[thecoolersolver]

Doll are you SURE you don't need braces? uwu

listen here chucklefuck my teeth are perfect

[xxdr3amsnatchrrxx]

YOU I SAW YOU IN VANNESAS CURSE 🫵 YOU SILLY MUSTACHE GIRL

[babygirl-coded]

have you read the book of joseph and if you have, what are your thoughts? :)

beautiful and heartbreaking is the only words to describe it. i absolutely love the lore and history of the seed family/eden’s gate. my favourite scene in the book has got to be when john and joseph reunited for the first time: “he was shaken, but as a seasoned businessman, he maintained his composure until we entered his well-appointed office, where he fell into my arms”. or when jacob was the only to sit on the cache of weapons hidden underneath the bus seat cause no one was brave enough to ask him to move.

i just downloaded a pdf version of it and it does have some sermons in it but it doesn’t include the pictures like the actual book does.

[doll-in-the-walls]

Hey I thought you should know that there is a user on Wattpad called slasher_whore_ that reposts a bunch of horror stuff from Tumblr, and you might be one of those people whose had their stuff reposted. I’m not sure where you stand on reposts so I thought I should let you know

I'm fine with it as long as people credit properly, but I'm assuming this person didn't. (side note: and as long as they’re over 18 when it comes to any 18+ work I’ve written; I found out they were not, so fuck no.)

It seems like this person has since deleted their works on Wattpad cause the only profile I found has 0 works now.

Thank you so much for the heads up though. ❤️

[ghelgheli]

Afab people can also develop a gendered subjectivity in response to transmisogyny, whether they've been victims of it or not, just as amab people can develop it as a result of misogyny. So, if transfemininity is also defined by this characteristic, afab transfem also fit into it. Your objection to this fact is just a bias based, at best, on ignorance.

-

It's is a bioessentialist prescription because you're adopting a conception of transfemininity that dictates that to be transfeminine, you have to fulfil to expectation of being male assignment at birth. this is no different from someone who uses the bioessentialist conception of womanhood which require female assignement at birth. Both are form bioessentialism that we should not perpetuate at our level, but rather we should re-thinking these gender categories in a way that doesn't align with bioessetialist conceptions

whoops! you caught me out aha. I forgot that afab trans people have subjectivities shaped by transmisogyny. I also forgot that cis womanhood is defined in large part thru transmisogyny: the fear of being clocky, constant affirmation by distancing from the tranny-object except when it's hot to have a bit of a jawline now, palatability as opposition to the monstrosity of being the shemale. I guess cis women are transfeminine too!

let's remember, while we're at it, that transmisogyny is the spectre that haunts the subject of the cis man. the gendered border policing lest one take a step too close to sissification, the prohibition on behaviour that could threaten to make him a girl—oh! cis men are transfeminine too!

in fact, we're all transfeminine! transmisogyny, as the recognition and attempted correction of the tranny-glitch that undoes the threads of gender, asserts itself against all of us. it is impossible to be a gendered subject without having contours shaped by the domineering pressures of transmisogyny, because that is what demands we all fall in line to the gendered nightmare. oops! all transfem!

but wait. a certain group, deprived now of unique identification, has just lost the ability to describe its gendered situation. it has been swallowed up by the seas of inclusive thinking or whatever. I guess that's okay :) I guess we'll drop our complaints :) we were a nuisance in the first place, weren't we? sorry. so sorry for existing this way.

listen to me. listen to me not as your fucking ephemeral gender oracle telling you what you want to hear before being thrown away, not as your bullshit mouthpiece granting you entrance to this mystical domain you want to claim for yourself, but as a god damn person for once—an impossible thing to ask of the transmisogynistic tranny wannabe, I know, but try!

you cannot escape hegemonic gender and its violent devices with flaccid platitudes about "re-thinking these gender categories" as though by changing the names of things you can change the things themselves. transmisogyny is the bioessentialism, and transmisogyny is why I am a failed man—the faggot embodied—something less than both man and woman—a gender traitor specifically against my assignment itself. and if you cannot recognize the unique ways that transmisogyny is deployed unrelentingly and irrevocably against the ones who will never be able to resort to birth assignment as a defense—against the ones who cannot throw their hands up and say, "I was never supposed to be a man in the first place!"—you have not understood the first thing about the root source of transmisogyny, and it is no surprise to me that you have no sense of transfemininity as a political category, a(n un)gendered class.

[angelicribbons]

Do you have any headcanons for Vox and Alastor with a fussy baby regressor?

Yesss!!

Vox and Alastor with a fussy baby regressor

Vox

While he does thinks your little tantrums are cute, you won’t be getting anything out of them. He’s dealt with the Vees much too long for that.

He’ll get you a distraction, instead. Although he will probably put you down for a nap once you get more settled. “Hey hey hey- shhh.. let’s let those tears rest for a sec, doll. Shhh…. Do you want your paci? Open your mouth, baby. Good.”

Although he won’t give you exactly what you want, he is a sucker for you, and a pretty easily annoyed one too, so would sometimes offer you candy just to stop crying for a little while. “fucking hell.. okay, little spark? Just- hush for dada right now, i cannot work with this fucking headache you’re giving me…come here, love. Do you want the lollipop? Mhm? Then be quiet. At least for a moment.” He’s not always the best at comfort.. but he’ll try for you.

If you’re whining about something you want, he’s not sure what to do and usually just picks you up and cradles you until you’re too sleepy to fuss. He doesn’t want to keep encouraging you to cry more with sweets, that was a last resort because he was fed up.

Sometimes if it’s really bad, he’ll try to have you asleep almost all day. He’s.. still working through your attitude. He’s slowly found out then when he does, you just get sleepier and more whiny each time you wake up. He eventually just makes you a bottle, and feeds you while your favorite show is playing. “Come here, sweetheart. I set out your toys up here and your favorite little animal friends. Let’s just, rest, please, pup?” (pup as in baby shark)

You’re both still learning together, and he’s trying his best for you. (He dealing with a difficult little one kinda reminds me of the Steven universe song “I could never be ready”)

Alastor

Alastor does find the antics of a whiny little one amusing at first, ..until you start crying. He doesn’t immediately baby you, in case you’re overreacting but he is worried. “Oh, darling.. come here. Do you need to cry?” He lets you fuss a bit, curled up on his chest. Although he is a little bothered by his suit being wet, it’s alright, you’re worth some damp clothes. “Look at me, my fussy fawn. Let’s see that pretty smile! You know that you’re never fully dressed without one, little love.”

You usually come on his strolls when he wants to show off a bit, but now you’re coming since he feels like a breath of fresh air might calm you a little. He tried the stroller, but you clearly squirmed a lot in there, so he just opted to carry you.

“Dearie, you know there is only so much I’ll give you when you pout like that.” Alastor had replied when you squirmed in his arms and pointed frustratedly to a store. He kissed your cheek and patted your head. “I’ve told you. That store isn’t safe for little ones like you. If you want to shop, we’ll have to get out of cannibal town, my fussy fawn.”

If things get bad, he sets up what he calls ‘the comfort corner’ Similar to Vox’s last approach. He softly sets you on his shoulders as he makes your bottle, and puts a couple of your favorite activities on his bed. He puts your favorite stuffies on his bed as well, accompanied by your pacifier. “There, my little deer. Your own play place.” He said as he turned on the radio. He gently sat on the bed and just watched you play.

I wouldn’t call Alastor the best at taking care of little ones, he’s still learning to not encourage when you get into some trouble and hold in his laughs. But he certainly knows how to soothe you.

Hope you liked this!! Vox’s was frustrating for me to write but that’s just personally how i feel like he’d deal with kiddos like that. Not well, basically. Alastor just doesn’t get mad as easily, I think that’s where they differ.

[thecoolersolver]

Doll askbox yay!

Biting you

привет(hello), Uzi.

why have you done that?

[absurdumsid]

Your Dustard art is really pretty, I love it! I feel like their first meet would include Fell being pinned to a wall in an alley, and Dust just looking at him. (If you imply past Kustard, Dust and the others would know fell.) So fell’s just concerned and like- Heh? What’s happening? While dust is like: This is my hot man, we dated once.

dont mind me. turning this into. fell/mttrio

well technically dustard and horrorfell BUT DIALOGUE WISE YKNOW

Fell! Sans belongs to Fella/Vic Killer! Sans belongs to rahafwabas Murder! Sans belongs to ask-dusttale Horror! Sans belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios

[babygirl-coded]

john is a la croix bitch and his favorite flavor is pamplemousse <3

i had to look this up and i agree. he’s the kind of person to take a sip, obnoxiously smack his lips and go, “ah that’s the good stuff”. he also claims to be a la croix connoisseur

[sandeewithtwoe]

i heard you are taking drawing requests------ My request is Ink speaking more french pleaseeeee

Hell yeahhh où sont mes abonnés français??

Moi, personnellement, je parle poutine, mais c’est presque la même chose, pas vrai? /j

Ink belongs to comyet

Error belongs to loverofpiggies

Transcript:

Ink: Alors, je pensais que je pourrais utiliser mes talents d’art pour faire le cadeau…

Ink: Mais apparemment, ce n’est pas « cool » de sculpter une statue du frère mort de ton ami! J’étais tellement fier de mon œuvre aussi…

Ink: Toi, qu’est-ce que t’en penses?

Error: I don’t speak baguette, dumbass

English version:

Ink: So, I thought of using my art skills to make the gift…

Ink: But apparently, it’s not “cool” to sculpt a statue of your friend’s dead brother! I was so proud of my work too…

Ink: What do you think?

Error: I don’t speak baguette, dumbass

[minni-bunni]

Dare: Post your favorite dirty picture of yourself <3

Idk if it's a favourite, but I think it's a cute one~

Truth or dare, send in a dare, and I'll have to do it~

[izel-scribbles]

If you insist

Draw Noel and Dennis. I dare you

old man yaoi‼️‼️‼️‼️

plus a stupid lil comic i made

(arthur: do you trust him?

noel: 'bout as far as i can throw him.)

(arthur: how far is that?)

(noel: you'd be surprised)

[small-sinclair]

Clingy brahms with separation anxiety having a breakdown after reader went out for groceries (malcolm isnt here) and reader coming back to him laying infront of the door asleep with ouffy eyes and then they take him to the bedroom and cuddle with him and he wakes up shaken up and they(reader) comfort him?🥹

Its can be any pronouns ;w;

Alone

Okay, this is my first time writing for him, so let me know how I did!

Gotta love me a clingy Brahms... but what if this is the reader's first time meeting him? What if the reader never knew who he was until they leave?

Brahms Heelshire x gen!reader

You hated to leave the house this time of year. It's cold, wet, rainy, windy, and gross out there, but you have to get a few things. Malcolm wasn't coming to the house until the end of the week, and to add insult to injury, he's come down with the flu. So, why should you risk going out while he got the flu? In this weather?

You wrote a sticky note, telling him where you were going, but you needed to tell him in person. You remember that your parents left without telling you once, and it scared you shitless. Yes, they left a note, but it still wasn't the best thing for you.

You sat the doll down in the living room with some of Brahms's favorite teddy bears, making the warmest cuddle pile that you could muster. "Brahms, honey, I have to go to town for a moment, okay? I promise to be back as soon as I can."

"No," you heard from the walls, the little boy calling for you. "Don't leave Brahms."

You fixed his little jacket and straightened his hair just a tad. "If you are on your bestest behavior, I'll let you have extra ice cream tonight--"

"Brahms... wants y/n," the voice said again on your left. the little voice echoed throughout the living room and it nearly broke your heart. "Don't leave me."

But you have to get some food. You have enough to last two days, but it's Tuesday. You can't have that. What type of caretaker would you be if you let little Brahms starve? What type of person would you be if he didn't have everything he needed? You let out a tired and quick breath and closed your eyes.

You stood up and went to the coat rack. You started putting on your warm jacket when you heard the walls crack as if there were rats. It's been doing that lately. More often than normal, actually. You've been here for a handful of months being the doll's nanny, and you loved it. Everyday was a new adventure with Brahms. Everyday, something new happened between you and the doll. The ghost of the boy even started talking to you more and more. You thought you were going insane, but he made it clear that it was him. The silence between you two was filled with bits of joy and happiness. The more you watched over Brahms, the more your heart swell for the doll.

As for his ghost and the walls moving? You couldn't make out if his was trying to scare you or make you nervous. Either way, a new rule was made: No Jump Scaring the Nanny. After that, Brahms's doll stopped moving from one room to the other, and you were thankful for that. You didn't want to have a heart attack every time you turn around and meeting a still doll looking back at you.

The house never felt empty when you and the doll hung out, you following the rules as close as you could. You and Brahms walked around the house every other day. You would carry him with such care as you talked about anything and everything. You loved seeing the art hanging on the walls, and you loved telling him daring storied behind some of the paintings. The house never felt alone with you around, and you felt as if he was thankful to have you. Maybe you're his first friend? Even at night, in separate rooms, you never felt alone. You always felt as if a guardian angel was watching you while you slept. Sometimes, you would feel as if your angel was sleeping next to you as the end of the bed, sitting on the edge, or leaving a kiss in your hair.

You weren't alone, y/n. Never were alone.

You went back into the living room and your face fell. The doll moved from the cuddle pile of teddy bears to your keys on the counter. He was sitting on it as if he could stop you from leaving, but he had to face it that he was just a doll, not human.

"Brahms," you breathed as you went to the keys. You pick them up then picked Brahms up. You carried him to the cuddle pile again. Turning, you took your jacket off the couch and placed it over him like a blanket. "Can you be a good boy and stay here? Not trash the house like last time?"

The last time you left, it was just to get the mail. When you came back, the library was turned upside down. Malcolm helped put things together while you put Brahms in time out, sitting him in a chair, facing the corner of the wall. That night, you had a heart-to-heart with him not to turn the house inside out whenever you leave. As punishment, you didn't give him his goodnight kiss or read to him. The next morning, you woke up to a drawn picture made out of crayons of some flowers, and there was a written apology on the back of the drawing.

"Stay," the boy's voice said again, but it sounded like it was over you. You looked you, jerking your head to see nothing by the ceiling. "Y/n shouldn't leave Brahms."

You looked back at the doll and placed a kiss on his head. You stand and took one last look at the room. "I will be back in two hours, okay? I promise."

"Don't go!" You heard something far in the house break, and it sounded like glass. "Don't leave me! I'll be good! Brahms will be good!"

"I'll be back!" You promised. "I swear!" You opened the front door and left, locking it behind you. As you started down the steps, you could've sworn you felt eyes watching you with hatred and fear. You looked back at the house then went to the car. "I promise," you whispered.

You started your car and left the Heelshire Mansion.

****************

As promised, you were back within two hours with a five bags of groceries and fast food. You got Brahms a Happy Meal to make up for leaving. You knew he'll be mad, but you hope he'll understand. His ghost was different to deal with sometimes, but you were happy with it. He wasn't the worst kid you've looked after, but he wasn't a saint either. Some days were better than others, but you always kissed him goodnight and read to him in the rocking chair in the den.

But you would be lying to yourself that you didn't enjoy leaving the house for a while, too. If it wasn't for the wind and the rain, it would be a halfway nice day. Maybe you would take Brahms on a drive once the weather gets better outside. You think he would love to go on a drive to the bookstore and back! He could pick out new books and stories for you to read, and you can get a cake pop and a hot cocoa...

Brahms would love that.

You unlocked the door and pushed the door open. "Brahms!" You announced. "I'm home--"

You dropped the bags as you found a grown man in the hallway of the house. He wore light grey sweatpants and a dirty white cutoff, showing different sized scars over his skin. His dark brown hair was curled and untamed, greasy and wild. You wanted to scream and call the cops, but something caught your eyes. He wore a mask that looked just like Brahms's face. The more you looked at him, the more familiar you felt with him. It's like you've known him your whole life being in the house taking care of the doll.

You closed the door behind you and picked the bags back up. He was out like a light, sleeping heavily in the hallway, clutching your jacket. You could see his mask had tear stained streaks over the clay, and you felt bad for him. If this was Brahms, the doll you've been caring for, you'll have to tell not to sleep on the floor because you haven't swept in a while.

You took the bags to the kitchen and put away the cold items before coming back to him. Carefully, you lifted the man up and hauled him to the couch. You laid his head on your lap and just looked at him. The man looked so close to the doll's face, and it almost scared you. There wasn't a ghost in the house. There wasn't a boy's ghost haunting the doll. There was him, and he's been here the whole time. His parents must've hid him away from the world, and you felt sorry for him.

But you should be scared. You should be terrified that there's a stranger resting on your lap, but you didn't fear a thing. The paintings of a young boy around the house was in your grasp. The mountains that he climbed and the laps he made throughout the house just to be near you must've killed him. You wondered how many times he wanted to hold your hand or hug you. You wonders how many times he thought of you when he was alone.

His parents hid him from the world, and that's not right. That wasn't right.

Well, at least he listened and didn't tore the house apart...

You looked at the grandmother clock in the corner of the living room then back at man. It's dinner time, and you thought of the fast food on the counter.

Gently, you shook his shoulder. "Brahms?" You asked in a whisper. "Brahms? Sweetheart, it's time for dinner... Brahms?" The man curled into the lab and buried his face in your stomach. You almost laughed; he reminded you of a puppy. "Brahms, time to wake up." You shake him a little harder this time, and he stirs. "Honey? Wake up," you say, shaking him again.

Slowly, the man sits up and looked at her with a sleepy gaze. It took him a moment to process where he was. When his eyes met yours, he scurried away from you, backing up from on the couch to the be on the other end. There was a mixture of emotions in his eyes: panic, fear, sadness, and hurt. He looked at you up and down the around him. How could he let you see him? He didn't want to meet like this. Not like this! He thought of showing himself to you in a couple of weeks, but this? No. No! This wasn't want Brahms wanted!

His thoughts stopped flooding as soon as your hand touched his. He looked at your hand then at you. "Brahms?" You whispered. "Are you... Brahms?"

You watched his Adams apple bob then he answered in the little boy's voice that you've been hearing for months, "Yes. Please don't be... mad at Brahms. I was... scared." He wanted to curl up and hide from you forever, but he saw your sad smile.

You tilted your head. "Why would I be mad?"

"Brahms left his spot," he answers shyly. "Brahms's a bad boy." His voice cracked as he remembered you telling him to stay right there in the pile. You told him to stay put but he didn't! He's the worse person for not listening to you! You've been nothing but kind to him.

You shake your head. "Oh, Brahms... it's okay. It's alright. You're not bad." Then you realized how truly big the house was and how he felt. How many years did he feel alone? How many times did he watch his real mother love a doll instead of him? He's alone. He's so scared of being alone. "You've must've been so scared of being alone again, huh?"

He nods. "Always alone. Brahms likes y/n. Y/n doesn't make Brahms feel..." he looked around the living room then at the doll in the teddy bear pile. "...alone."

"Well," you said, coming closer to him, taking both of his hands, "you will never be alone, sweetie. Not while I'm here."

"But you left."

"I came back, didn't I?" You asked, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles. "Right? I promised to come back to you, and I did. See?" You offered him a happy grin. "I didn't break my promise."

Brahms looks at you then down at your hands. He's always imagined what your hands felt like in his, and he melts. Carefully, he brought your hands up to his mask to let you touch the smooth glaze and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. Under his mask, he smiles and starts crying. He loves you with all his soul, and his lungs filled up with nothing but flowers for you. All for you.

"You were so brave," you praised. "Such a good boy for listening to me. Thank you for not destroying the house."

His eyes locked on yours. "I'm good?"

"Always been good, Brahms." You glanced at the counter where the fast food sat then back at him. "Let's eat dinner, okay?"

"Cuddle after that?" his little voice asked.

You nodded. "After eating. Sound like a deal?"

He nods as he leans forward into your hands, wondering what they would feel like against his skin. But, that'll be for another day. Both of you would have to take small steps before your lips would trace his, before his hands would hold yours every day.

Small steps, y/n, until you both don't feel alone.

[angelicribbons]

Do u have any Vox caregiver headcanons? And Adam too ^_^

yesss!! :D (I’m hoping you mean sfw agere, if you don’t just correct me and I’ll make another post lol)

Vox, despite his busy work schedule, is EXTREMELY nervous about you being alone without him. He lets you sit on his lap and play with your stuffies while he works<3

Even then, he still consistently looks over to you to make sure you’re okay. When work gets stressful, he’ll take a break to go and play pretend with you for a bit. Naturally, a little is curious. So he’s very used to you poking around at his screen and antenna, and asking questions if you’re old enough to speak clearly.

Spoiled. To the MAX. Literally given anything and everything. Your room is stuffed with plushies, tablets, toys, snacks, literally everything you’ve ever asked for.

If you’re a baby regressor, he just adores hearing you babble on about stuff. He’d play along.

Stuff he’d say- “Oh, really? That’s nice, little one. What else?”

“Little spark, how about we play for a little bit? Yes, daddy has time for you. Come on, baby, let’s go.” “Sparky, sweetie, I told you not to mess with the other stuff in my office. How about you sit on my lap and play your tablet for a little while? I can turn on your shows on one of my monitors.”

Whenever you go out without him, (which is rare and of course you’re accompanied by his employees) he has you take a little stuffie of him. You don’t know that it’s because he has an AirTag in it, just in case. He constantly has cameras on you, anyway, but he wants to be safe.

He’s literally a walking heating pad. Most of your naps are taken curled up on his chest, either on the couch when he’s finished working or in his office chair. Nobody insults his baby. One demon almost slyly insulted you during one of Vox’s interviews where he had you curled up in his arms. “Ahaha..” He laughed, trying not to sound furious. He made sure you were asleep before his left eye was filled with red and black swirls. “TALK ABOUT MY LITTLE ONE ONE MORE TIME AND I’LL FIND YOUR ADDRESS AND BREAK EVERY VOXTEK PRODUCT IN YOUR PATHETIC RANCID SHITHOLE. YOU SHOULD STOP FOCUSING ON OTHER’S PERSONAL LIFE AND FUCKING FIND YOUR OWN YOU PATHETIC SAD EXCUSE FOR A PEASANT.” His eye turned back to normal and he pushed the interviewers away to get you back home snuggled up in your bed.

Adam is a new hyperfixation of mine so this one probably won’t be as long as Vox’s but I’ll try lol!!

Adam is a proud caregiver, he shows you off to the other angels almost weekly when you’re small.

Things he says: “Fucking look at my little rockstar!!” “Oh, this little cutie? Yeah, they’re mine, bitch! They’re my fucking little superstar!! You haven’t heard? Well—“ (then rambles about you) “Heh! You’re cute as fuck, kiddo.” (Then proceeds to pick you up and squeeze you in the biggest bear hug imaginable)

As much of a foodie he is himself, he’s probably never cooked once in his life. Or tried and failed. He’ll get Lute to make you and him both food and rant to you while he eats. You probably don’t understand a word about it, but he and you don’t care.

After he’s done rambling, he loves to hear you babble, even if he doesn’t understand sometimes. He’s an actual good listener and gets into the story.

Tickle monster. Would play the role of “big scary tickle monster” until you’re genuinely gasping for air and pauses. “You good, kiddo?” Once he gets confirmation, he’s right back to running his hands all over you to get a giggle.

I get such “girl dad” vibes from him. Like the Rock. Letting his little one put him in makeup and outfits for their amusement.

“Alright, now it’s my turn!” He’d say once you finished dressing him up. Put you in his large robe(the one from extermination day, the black one), and gave you a sick black and gold spiked collar with his name on the front to match the robes. Put his guitar in your hands “Oh, fuck yeah! Now fucking look at you! My sick little fucking rockstar!” Did not touch the makeup at all, was like mildly scared of it because he had no clue how it worked and didn’t wanna mess his precious little’s face up.

Tunes!! Plays electric guitar covers of your favorite TV show’s theme songs. Will put on a PERFORMANCE about it, like will get on top of boxes and such to mimic a little stage. He gives you a mic to sing along if there’s lyrics to the theme song.

Probably a bad influence on you, you get into a bunch of mischief alongside him. His little superstar wants to prank someone? “Oh, fuck yes!! Let’s go get the shit ready! You are such a damn menace, I love it!”

When your fun turns a little too reckless, he snickers. “Yeah, no, kiddo. We ain’t doing that. How bout’ we go annoy Lute for a bit?”

TEDDYBEAR. LITERAL TEDDYBEAR. All naps are spent on top of him or being held by him. As for him? Loves feeling how small you are compared to him. Wraps his wings around you until you both doze off.

Uh, insulting HIS little?! Why would they?! My little menace is awesome! He thought internally and scoffed as someone DARED to talk about his baby. “Uh, the fuck? They are way cooler than your stupid fucking uh..asshole ass! Obviously they are, I’M their dad. That’s like..insulting me! ME. Like I fucking made humans! My little is fucking awesome, you’re just a petty loser!!” He stuck out his tongue. Nobody insults his baby! It’s HIS little one. They don’t fucking deserve that. He shoved the random angel aside to bring you back to his place, you probably need to be put down for a nap by now.

There’s all my headcanons for now!!! raaaa I love them !!!! I just wanna be held and fed a bottle by Vox<33 qnxduedwsnwnwamsoqakakkaaaaaa hope you like them ^u^

[thecoolersolver]

Did you customize your helmet to look like lizzy’s or did she customize it for you :>

oh! uhhhhh

she did it for me, im not good at customizing stuff,