#ziggy 💜

[cherrycolored-punk]

ZIGGY you cannot keep doing this to me I am UNWELL

I am a puddle, melted down from the intensity of how fucking hot this was and will probably never recover.

SPEAKING LATIN TO ME?? What kinda fuckin witchcraft is this? 😩

He could take me by moonlight, keep me a secret…idc, just take off that robe emperor

dulcis ut rosa { sweet as a rose 🥀}

part 1 1/2– dulex (the gnat🥀) pt ii: vitiosus + deliciosus

pt iii: frangere me 🥀pt iv: ad caelum vel infernum, tecum sum

emperor Geta x female servant reader || word count: 4.4k || smidge of caracalla x reader

summary: brought to Palatine Hill as a gift from your village to the new Emperors— Caracalla claims you as his own, but Geta has his own plans for you when the moon crests into the sky.

tw: anal, p in v, rough inexperienced sex, oral m receiving, use of the word whore, caracalla is a whiny bitch, geta is fuckboy of the era. i googled a majority of the historical events, timelines, roman names for things, and latin translation— if it’s wrong, oh well. bad at feelings! geta, insane! crybaby! caracalla. idk geta is an unhinged mother fucker but what if he wasn’t so bad?

It had been months and many cycles of the moon ago when you were sent as a token of goodwill, a gift to the new Emperors in exchange for peace for the small village you resided in. 

Other Virgines and yourself were taken in the dark ebony of twilight, shackled side by side into the wobbly wagon driven by the village's strongest oxen. You didn’t dare object, instead you held your chin high, awaiting fate as the cart swayed this way and that, heart racing and blood pulsing as your journey to the Palatine Hill began. 

Some nights were still spent awake, remembering the crippling fear in your chest as you watched women from your village being gifted to generals as their personal servants. 

Some were given to soldiers as a sense of “release.” No better than a common whore being passed from soldier to soldier, fitting their needs.  The others were pillaged and picked like grapes from a cluster— and finally you had stood alone, defiance pooling in your eyes, pushing back traitorous tears.

Emperors Geta and Caracalla sat on ruby and gold twin thrones, identical in size and power. The tension between them was palpable— so thick you could reach out and stroke its ugly head. Where Caracalla’s grin was full of mischief, Geta had a snarl curled on his upper lip. 

You should have known then. The difference between them.

From where you stood, Geta’s dark eyes looked empty. Every so often they twitched as he spun the rings adorned on his left hand. His eyes rolled when his older brother giggled as the gifts from whatever poor village gave away their ripe, untouched women. 

Bare toes standing on the marble floor— unable to even grab shoes before you were heaved into the cart— you felt a heat from dark eyes that you were certain would drive someone mad if they dared look back. Like the boiling flames from hell itself were simmering in the coal of his irises. 

Caracalla jumped up, stepping forward from his throne, a wicked sense of evilness piercing from the iciness of his stare. His golden tooth caught the sun’s rays and you nearly vomited as he strode forward, eyeing you like a meal. 

A feminine laugh bubbled from his throat,  he clasped his hands together, bangles clanking in a sick harmony, a childlike grin spread on his pale face, “she’ll do.” 

You remember the first night in his chambers. Caracalla himself was bathed in ivory, same as the stone walls that were covered with flowing draperies. Although it was meant to be beautiful, the air felt choked, tight in your chest as you tried like hell to calm your frazzled nerves. 

The same giggle you heard in the throne room all morning now reverberated off the walls. He sat on a chaise lounge in only his dressing robes, sweat dampening his temples, that same damning stare as he slid his tongue over that disgusting gold tooth. Was he nervous? Drunk?

You had thought an emperor of his caliber would be used to this sort of thing. Maybe not. 

You had been cleaned by the palace servants, hair untangled and dirt scrubbed from under your nails. Hints of jasmine and honey perfumed from your gown as you tiptoed toward him. You watched as beads of sweat trickled down his brow, and he wiped at them hastily. 

“Sit.” 

The singular word seemed to give him trouble, as if he had never been in the presence of a woman before. 

He was clumsy, unthreading your gown with clammy hands, dragging across your skin like a damp sponge. Your skin crawled under his touch. 

His lips were stained with wine, thin and shriveled as he pecked at your skin. When you reached for him, hurrying this task along, he recoiled from your hand, shaking his head, a pained expression on his face as he held your wrist in a death grip. 

His eyes squinted shut and he screamed for you to leave. “Out!” “Get out!” Chalices and gold cutlery were tossed in your direction as you sprang for the door. 

Throwing open the heavy wood and running smack into the bare chest of the other Emperor. Emperor Geta. 

Although younger, he was taller than Caracalla. His chest was more broad, shoulders stretched tight with muscles. The same death-like stare on his face as he shoved you from him, having you stumble onto the stones into a wall. The cords of his neck strained as he took in your appearance.

He didn’t soften his features as you peered up at him with a fear stricken expression. He snarled, flaring his nostrils at the pathetic look of you, practically in rags. 

“Ah, and what do we have here? My brother’s whore in tears outside his chamber door. Can’t say I'm the least bit surprised.” He leaned into you, his eyes burning into your skin as he ripped the last of your gown to the floor, leaving you naked before him. 

“Tasteful thing, aren't you?” he gloated, pinching your bare nipple between his thumb and forefinger, laughing when you yelped in surprise and tried to cover your decency. 

He crowded into you, pushing your further down the hall way until you reached a dead end, his groin pressed into your middle. 

“Pathetic.” he sneered, enunciating every syllable the word held.  “Every single one of you.” His voice slithered like a snake against your ear, his breathing was forced, almost erratic and strained like he was holding himself back from bashing your skull into the wall. 

“Brought in here like some glorious stuffed hog on a spicket, trying to impress the Emperors so your village would be overlooked..” he clicked his tongue and grabbed the nape of your neck, his mouth only an inch from your own, “I don’t miss anything. Even though my sniffling brother may, I do not.” 

“Emperor, please.” 

“Do not speak!” he shouted loud enough to wake the entire palace, the veins in his neck stood at attention, throbbing,  “a whore will never open her mouth to me unless asked, or you are given something to fill it— understood?” 

You nodded feebly, a single tear trickling down your cheek. Geta placed the tip of his tongue to your skin catching the salty wetness, “if you can not please my brother, you will please me… otherwise what good are you here?” 

He shoved you to your knees, bits of sand biting into your skin as you hit the ground with a thud. His eyes were ablaze as he pulled out his cock. Veiny and impossibly thick, you’d never imagined one to be so large.  

Geta stroked himself, already hard and velvet beneath his palm, “open for your Emperor,” he demanded, the same snarl on his lip you noticed earlier today. 

You did as you were told, tongue out mouth agape waiting for him to slide against your mouth. Forcing himself inside, he filled it full until the pink head slithered into your throat, his groans vibrating through your bones. 

He rocked his hips into your face, panting and groaning some more as you gagged on his length— spit dripping down your bare chest and down his sack. 

He spoke nonsense to himself as you tried to breathe, squinting out tears from your eyes as you peered up at him. “The virgin mouth is fuck, yes, too good… impossibly sweet, untouched by another man, fuck, never get enough.” 

His large fist gripped your hair, pulling at the root as he bludgeoned himself further into you, fucking your head into the wall surely to leave a bruise or knock you unconscious, he wouldn’t care either way. 

“Stupid sniffling Caracalla,” he choked out between thrusts, “incompetent bastard wouldn’t know what to do with a whore if one fell on his cock,” he laughed and scrubbed at his face, reaching with his free hand to press the column of your throat, feeling himself deep beneath his thumb, “lucky for you, I do.” 

He came then, loud and shaky, holding you to him until your nose was tickled by his patch of dark pubic hair. He pulled out, leaving a pearl against his slit to rub against your mouth. 

“You might belong to Caracalla, but you will bow to me, and you… my sweet rosa, I have plans for you.” 

And that was how it started, how every night you would meet with Caracalla only to be summoned by Geta in the corridor upon your dismissal. Spilling secrets of his brother before pleasuring him with your mouth. 

In the light of day, you were ignored by him as you catered to Caracalla’s beck and call, and you often wondered if Geta had another servant he preferred during the sunlight hours. 

You were a midnight affair, a servant to one Emperor, a secret to the other. Caracalla was a strange man. Your time with him mostly was spent with him whining about the day's woes. 

How hard it was to be an emperor, the many expectations he had, the palace wasn’t large enough, his brother was too mean. Night by night his paranoia spread like wildfire, and he became gaunt, refusing to eat thinking Geta poisoned his food, his cheeks began to hallow. 

During all those nights he never once gave in to his own sexual temptations, he laid his head in your lap like an infant, whimpering and sniveling. One particular warm night you were sitting on his bed as you did every night before, listening to him sob about his mother and how he felt her attention was elsewhere. 

It took a single second of you being unresponsive for his switch to flip. Caracalla raged, flipping over furniture, ripping his draperies from the walls and pulling at his own hair. You were terrified, scared of him for the first time since the night you came to the palace. 

Caracalla bound your wrists above your head, and took force between your legs as you silently let him, disassociating from the entire situation, as he kissed a bruise to your collarbone, and scratched your thighs with his bitten fingernails. His inexperience was evident in his approach, in the way his hips held no rhythm, in the way he screeched like a midnight owl when he was close to release. 

He repeated the same thing over and over until he spilled against your stomach, a plea to either himself or to the Gods above, I am worthy. 

You shook violently, not with pleasure but with fear. You had thought of spitting in his face, but realized death would be your only future if you were to humiliate him during this catastrophic performance of what he would assume to be lust. 

Caracalla finished with a sweaty brow, laying down to fall asleep like a babe, an arm wrapped around your middle. A gaudy rouge colored his pale cheeks as drool slipped from his lips. 

You felt sick, defiled and disgusting. 

You’d rather be fucked by thirty men at once than have to endure that pathetic, cry baby fit from Caracalla. Gently placing his arm on the pillow, you fled. 

Missing your village, your family, the man who you were supposed to marry someday, your tears clouded your vision down the winding corridors of the palace. You would have fought to stay behind, should have pleaded to the men that you could be useful to them. This whore’s life isn’t what you had bargained for, death would be swifter— easier than this. 

The sweet scent of the balneum made you take a detour to the right, and you sobbed upon seeing the moonlight glint across the soft bathing water. 

Desperate to scrub his filth from your skin, the water was barely warm but you couldn’t care less as you sunk deep into the marble stone basin. Scrubbing your skin with anything your fingers could get ahold of. The jasmine soaps the servants washed you with the first time was tucked into its cradle and you slathered until your skin shined like an apparition. 

Tears dropped from the apples of your cheeks hitting the massive pool like a rainstorm over the ocean. Caracalla was a coward, a nuisance to Rome, to the Gods themselves. You damned his name as you scrubbed and lathered, repeating feverishly. 

For how long Geta stood in the doorway, you weren’t sure. You weren’t where you should have been, and he was irate upon your absolute disrespect of his time. He wanted to shout, plunge his way into the water and drag you out by your hair, bring you to the coliseum and make everyone watch your death against whatever animal he saw fit. 

You broke his rules, his laws, his heart raced with anger at the sight of you casually washing yourself. Nobody in the palace bathed in the moonlight, and when he heard commotion from the tepidarium room, he stomped towards it to find whoever the culprit was idiotic enough to disobey. He was alarmed to find you in there. Frantic, shooken up, no doubt from the hands of his flaccid brother.

“The lamb strayed away from the flock, I see.” his voice was like a snake, cool and calm but dripping with acidity that could kill at any given time. Jumping at his voice you nearly shrieked at his sudden appearance. 

“The moon has passed the mountains, yet you do not seek me out? Instead I find you here, helping yourself to the royal bathing quarters, as if you deserve such luxuries.”

Your voice trembled, as you climbed from the water, “I wanted… I needed to be clean.” 

His eyebrows twisted inward, confusion riddling his features until he stepped further into the room and noticed the marks across your skin. Caracalla’s mark. The marks of an hungry, untrained runt, trying to prove himself to the litter. 

Geta’s face boiled with sadistic rage as his eyes scanned down your body, the scratches of an novice beast unable to pleasure a whore. Bruises from a limp man who deserved a knife to his throat.

“Come.” he demanded, not waiting for you to follow as his stalked from the room, tossing a long cloth behind him to your awaiting hands. 

—

Water trickled behind you and down the length of your body as you padded on bare feet to catch up with Geta. 

This part of the palace was foreign to you, a set of stairs leading to a dark tower that you didn’t know existed, and then you realized why. He was leading you up to his chambers.

Geta and Caracalla lived on opposite ends of the palace, their hatred splitting them apart as far as it could allow. 

He thrust open a concealed door and stomped down a few stone stairs leading into his chamber. 

It was decorated in hues of deep ruby and scarlets, black linens flanked his walls. His bed was massive, alluring in the dark majesty of its presence. A single candle flickered beside his bed, casting shadows in the deep night. 

His hooded eyes seemed to strike with a ripple of psychotic light when he came back to the doorway to pull you inside by your wrist. 

Sitting on a lavish wooden chair he leans back, spreading his legs wide, reaching for a wine filled chalice downing it in one gulp, his eyes never leaving you. 

“Let me make myself clear,” he stated, “I do not care what Caracalla does in his chambers I never have nor will I now.” 

Geta wiped at his chin and set down the glass, his finger rounding the rim, “You came here knowing what your life would hold as an Emperor’s servant or a soldier’s fuck sack. The little amount of freedom you were once born with has vanished, and what a pity that must be…but quite honestly,” he gleamed leaning forward his face warmed by the light, casting shadows of evil on his brows, “I am not a savior to the fucked raw whores of this palace who weep after fulfilling their master’s needs.”

Your eyes casted downward at the patterned marble floor. “I told you the night we met that if you aren’t pleasing my brother or myself, you have no purpose here, did I not?” 

Your head shook up and down, knowing every word he said was true. 

“I will grant you gratitude where it is due by saying that you have done everything I have asked of you, sharing my brother’s secrets, using your mouth to fill my needs— it is all very pleasing…”

For the first time you look into Geta’s eyes, the shadows inside flicker with the candle light, and you are drawn to them like a moth. 

“… however, I find myself enraged thinking of that shriveled weasel dick not taking you to bed in a proper manner. It is not my style to fuck like a lover would—I use women to my needs and that’s it.” 

He rubs his jaw, as if the stubble was itching him, suddenly stopping to look at you dead in the eyes as his narrowed to slits, “but you, are a gnat. An annoyance I can not seem to get rid of, and I can’t decide if you are a woman version of the plague or something else…” His eyes glimmer for a second before he shakes his head to clear his mind, “Get on the bed.” 

“Emperor?” 

His voice boomed as he slammed down his cup, “do not make me say it twice, I find myself to be quite angry when I have to repeat my words.” His throat pulsed in wrath, and his knuckles turned white from his fists being clenched. 

You do as you're told, gingerly making your way to the enormous frame and mattress, sitting rigidly. Geta undresses himself, standing bare before you, that glorious length springing freely. 

“The difference between Caracalla and myself, is I know how to use my God bless-ed cock to pleasure a woman, and I’m damn good at it.” 

He’s on you in a flash, his breath sweet from the wine he had consumed. His body was solid on top of yours, pale skin never exposed to the sun. Enormous shoulders dressed in muscles that were hidden with robes daily. He sniffs loud, taking in your scent you feel his body shiver above you. 

His teeth nip at your earlobe, piercing through the flesh releasing a trail of hot blood onto your neck. It’s swiftly lapped away by his tongue, a low groan following as he tastes you. 

“If your blood is this sweet I would hate to know how you taste between your legs.” 

You squirm beneath him as he bites your lip the same way, his canines piercing your plushy flesh and he moves his mouth over the bites, enjoying the iron-like taste. A flood of wetness rushes to your core and you suddenly feel hot everywhere… something Geta doesn’t miss. 

“My brother’s whore is quick to becoming wet.” he says with a chuckle, sweeping his fingers between your folds, his rings collecting your arousal on his knuckles before he pulls them into his mouth,  “mmmm leave it to Caracalla to fuck a bitch when she’s drier than a well.” 

His mouth assaults your neck. Sweeping circling as he groans into you, his cock rutting against your sex as you pull him further into you, a hand coiled in his golden hair, yanking slightly, a traitorous moan escaping his lips. 

Your hips widen to try to sneak the tip of him into your cunt but he only laughs at your attempt.

“Look how desperate you are, pathetic thing… so eager to be filled by a man who knows how to fuck.” He groans when your nails scratch down his back, and he licks his lip to not get too carried away. 

That pitiful excuse for a human couldn’t satisfy his own hand, let alone a whore who begs to be brutalized.” You moan his name when he skims blunt nails around the peaks of your nipples, running his palms along your rib cage. 

“You're teasing me, Emperor, te necessito.” 

The snarl that seems to be a permanent fixture on his face curls on his lip, “begging is a good start, we both know how good you are on your knees, but I like the pity showing in your eyes, as if I’m your God.”

With that final word and title, Geta thrust himself into you, shredding your walls with each delicious inch of his cock buried inside of you. All breath is expunged from your lungs as you stare into the devil’s eyes, a chokehold to your own.

“Ora pro me, Deus meus, pray for me God,” he grunted as he pistoned back into your heat. Your screams filled his chambers, the tower shaking with seduction as he matched your shouts with grunts and moans of his own. 

He pawed at your tits, squeezing and claiming every inch of skin he could get his hands on. Your thighs were wrapped around his waist, your hips circling to meet his rhythms. A large hand wrapped tight around your throat, and you licked your lips letting a grin spread against them. 

Geta was leaned forward just enough for you to put a hand against his own throat, squeezing as tightly as you could. He wasn’t expecting this, wasn’t expecting someone to match his own sadistic fantasies.. let alone a commoner from a village he didn’t care to know the name of. 

His eyes embellished like a dark jewel in a burning hell before he snarled and backhanded your cheek. He had never been more turned on, practically fucking you stupid as the welts from his rings raised on your skin. 

“Puella pulchra, pretty girl,” Geta whispered into your ear after flipping you over, his cock wedged between your ass cheeks. “Mea es, mea es, you’re mine;  no one else’s.” 

His rings bit at your sides as he positioned your ass upwards, leaving his dental records in each cheek before slapping them hard in unison, mocking your yelp as he dribbled spit where he needed it to be. 

With no warning he entered your other hole at a bruising pace. You saw black when Geta bottomed out and you swore you were near passing out from the stretch of his giant cock stuffed tight inside of you. 

Your pussy throbbed to his commands as he pulled you by your neck with one hand, so your back was leaned against his chest. Thick fingers slotted themselves in the heat of your core until his rings were nestled against your clit. “How dare you let Caracalla have at you first, this cunt is too sweet, too sinful to not be mine.” 

Babbling along to everything he said you simply screamed yes over and over, as your head lolled back on his shoulder. You came so hot and bound tight that it flooded his fingers and spread down your legs as he kept pounding inside of you. 

“Oh fuck,” Geta grunted, shoving your forward to gain leverage on your hips as he pistoned into you a final time. A great yell breached his throat as his seed flooded your ass, filling it full and spilling over both himself and you, down to the laundered sheets. 

You collapsed onto his bed, legs shaking and quaking struggling to catch your breath. Geta fell onto his back beside you, his skin glistening with sweat, his release coated thickly on his softening cock and pasted into the curly hair. 

“Dulcis ut rosa,” he murmured with his eyes closed, licking his lips to savor your taste once more. 

Tumbling on shaky knees, you lift yourself up just enough to eye his length, wrapping your mouth around his cock, sucking off his spend and yourself from him. Moaning as you devoured him.  

He hissed at the contact, reaching out to stroke your cheek with his thumb “you’ve made a fool of me, you wicked thing, I’m nothing but a fool.” 

When you were finished, Geta laid in silence beside you. His thumb strumming along his torso his eyes wide staring into the ceiling, deep in thought. 

Noticing a decanter of wine you asked if he’d like another glass. “No,” he said, still staring upward, unable to look at you. “I’m tired, leave me now.” 

Removing yourself from the bed you find the dressing robe he was wearing when he found you in the bath and slipped it over your shoulders. 

Leaving his chambers left you feeling rotten. 

It was strange how he looked at you during and after, he was talented just as he said he was, and you knew you’d never forget the night the other Emperor bed you in his sheets. For tomorrow was another day, back to Caracalla and his blubbering whines of the hardships of royalty.

Geta lie awake for hours. Eventually seeking refuge on his balcony staring into the pale ivory moon, silently asking the Gods for answers he himself didn’t know. He had bedded hundreds of women. Every shape, size and color. But you. The little gnat. You had been buzzing in his ears every night since you had gotten to Palatine Hill. 

Since the day he laid his eyes on you and scoffed to try to denounce his admiration, Geta silently wished death on Caracalla when he claimed you as his own. His original plan was to spoil the apple from the inside out, use you as a spy to gain information about his deranged brother— but it became more to him, you became more. But why? 

The God’s didn’t have the answers tonight, just like they hadn’t the night before, or every dawn since the night you showed up here. Guilt struck him like a bolt from Jupiter’s mighty hand and he pushed it down with the remaining wine he had stashed beside his bed. 

The facaded mask he wore these days almost slipped off tonight when you lay beside him. How he wanted to reach out and touch your skin while you laid in euphoric bliss. And he shut you out to avoid something he couldn’t risk. He didn’t know how to love a woman, his love was for war and power, blood and gold— still the gnat buzzed, unrelentless. 

Laying in the sex sodden sheets, he knew what his dream would be of tonight. It hadn’t changed in the months of you arriving here: Caracalla dead by his hand, and you, the gnat, sweet as a rose…his empress.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

latin translation:

virgines— virgins

dulcis ut rosa— sweet as a rose

balneum— bathing room

te necessito— i need you

ora pro me deus meus— pray for me my God

puella pulchra— pretty girl

mea es— you’re mine

tagging some moots: @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @etherealxwitch

[brattybattydumb]

Hi tumblr! This broke my fucking heart! Thank you!

[fallen-starchild]

he’s been hiding in your closet to wish you a happy bisexual awareness week

[delusional-dingus]

trans ppl r 100% valid‼️ if u disagree or think otherwise this blog is being gatekept from u now<3

(p.s. if yr thinking abt sending me hate/threats for this, remember im a minor w/ not v good mental health)

[steine-druff]

ONCE AGAIN!!! I AM GOING TO EXPLODE DUE TO TOO MUCH LOVE IN MY HEART AND ALSO EVERYWHERE ELSE!!!

[mrdecoon]

[h0wll]

Posting my current AO3 fanfic links here, please enjoy!! Crossovers will be colour-coded in purple 😊💛💜

Harry Potter/Marauders:

ziggy played guitar

Short, no-magic modern AU, domestic Wolfstar fluff one-shot with trans(ftm) Remus and ace Sirius (ft. their cat Magnus). 1,355 words.

la lune and i

No-Voldemort Hogwarts AU Moonwater potions partners slow burn with trans!Regulus Black. Ft. Rosekiller, Xenodora, and Dorlene. 6,700 words.

less than three, you love me (typing out my fantasy)

Texting/social media no-magic modern AU Marauders Era. Genderfluid!Sirius and Remus date each other anonymously and don’t realise. Ft. Wolfstar, Jegulus, Marylily, Rosekiller, Dorlene, and Xenodora. 1,664 words.

JOYRIDE

Modern no-magic AU one-shot Rosekiller get freaky in a car (HEAVY SMUT) inspired by Kesha’s new song. Ft. Wolfstar and Jegulus. 2,501 words.

Sleepily, Venus sinks and hollows

Modern PJO-AU Marauders. Centred around Wolfstar and Jegulus. Everyone are demigods and go to CHB, but Kronos is rising. Ft. Rosekiller, Dorlene, Marylily, and Xenodora. 6,751 words.

Percy Jackson:

XOXO (Kisses Hugs)

Discontinued(?) PJO kinktober with trans!Percy/Ganymede. Only chapter up is pegging, though I may continue it this October?? Possibly?? 3,681 words.

My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia:

Gold-skinned eager baby

MHA/BNHA AU where Touya Todoroki survived and got custody of Shoto and raised him. Ft. Autistic Shoto and Seroki. 2,797 words.

[retrobr]

So last night I watched the "Lazytown's Surprise Santa" episode and holy hell this is definitely one of my favorite episodes. Like seriously-

You know, I'm ready to devour any Christmas-related stuff, ESPECIALLY when it comes to my favorite media and fandoms, so that episode was goddamn eye candy to me. The whole image of that episode was simply beautiful

Besides that, this was one of those episodes in which folks are being kind to Robbie and he's being pretty kind to them in return; I fucking love such episodes (like "Dear Diary" or "The Greatest Gift," for example). That moment when Robbie found out that kids had prepared a gift for him as well just melts my heart fr. I just RAAAAGH WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO ME 😭

Also loved that scene in which Ziggy meets Robbie disguised as Santa. Even though Robbie always complains about kids being loud and finds them annoying, he still listened to all of Ziggy's excited ramblings. Damn such scenes make me headcanon that Ziggy is Robbie's favorite kid even harder 🥺💜

Oh and Stingy. This episode made me despise Stingy even more. The brat broke someone's gift out of his stupid curiosity and just pretended like nothing had happened. I swear this kid is more evil than Robbie himself

The rambling is finished. Thanks for y'all's attention :]

[byrdnight]

I have A FUCKTON of Lazytown HCs but I thought it'd be fun to hear everyone else's! Like a lil sharing corner:) comment down below!❤️ I'll start with a couple.

Sport is a sports elf and Robbie is a dark chaos faerie.

Robbie was raised primarily in the human realm which is why he acts the way he does.

Ziggy has 2 moms :) a sweet southern lady and a biker lady that moved there from New York but she's also a sweetie❣️

Enby Glanni 🖤💛💜🤍

I have so many more but let's hear y'all's

[cherrycolored-punk]

holy fuck

just as I imagined, Eddie likes them a little very crazy and why do I love it so much? 😩 I want him to think he can fix me or fuck the crazy out of me…or even better, make me worse

and am I deranged for loving the part where they just keep going in public cos that part had me

I can’t wait to read the other parts!

⋆·˚ ༘ * eddie x female reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * summary: what happens, when eddie makes plans without you?

⋆·˚ ༘ * tw: 18+ only, unprotected p in v! toxic relationship behavior, choking, reader is kind of crazy but it’s explained at the end, breaking shit, mean!reader, drinking, weed, knife use, pet names, nicknames.

⋆·˚ ༘ * 1.7k words, not proof read, pretend it is.

Saturdays were usually your nights together. Spending the night at his trailer because it was guaranteed that Wayne would be gone. 

But tonight Eddie said he had “plans with the boys”. 

So imagine your surprise when Robin called you up and asked why you weren’t at Steve’s party, but Eddie was?

The ten minute drive felt like sixty seconds of pure rage filled hell. You only saw red, steam shot from your ears like a cartoon. 

And when you pulled up to Steve’s enormous house, Robin was right, because Eddie’s van was sitting out front. 

Your blood boiled and your cheeks felt like fire. Heart hammering in your chest,  you slammed the gear shift into park before the car could even come to a full stop. 

You didn’t care that he was here with his friends, what you cared about was the normal posse of skanky girls who were at Steve’s parties, one strawberry blonde in particular that rubbed you every way of wrong. Chrissy.

She was always hanging on Eddie any chance she got, batting her eyelashes, acting dumb to get his help in math. You’re so smart she’d whisper to him— even though the straight F’s on his paper definitely didn’t stand for Fantastic. 

Jason had dumped her and rumor had it she was looking to get back at him the biggest way she knew how, and that was t getting with the freak. 

Your freak. 

The sharp black points on your heeled boots clicked along the sidewalk as you stalked towards the house whistling an angelic sort of tune, swinging the wooden bat by your side. 

Jonathan was outside the lavish home, smoking a fatty and leaning against the raised brick garden bed. Upon first glance he waved, all drunken smiles and lazy greetings. 

It wasn’t until he saw what was in your hand that he finally pieces it together, and you asked him sweetly to kindly get Eddie because you had a message for him. 

The driver's side window broke with little to no effort, a few swings and it shattered into a pretty spider web of splintered glass, covering Eddie’s driver seat. 

The whistled tune never stopped from your puckered lips. Not when you flicked open the pocket knife and punctured the rubber tires, or when you carved a long jagged scratch into the paint down the aluminum body. 

It wasn’t until you were standing on the hood of the van, crashing the bat into the windshield did you hear the front door to Steve’s swing open, music fading through the night with each body shoving their way through the door, gasping at your surprise gift for your boyfriend. 

Someone, Jeff, you think— hollers for Eddie and you plant your ass on the hood, leaving a dent for sure by the way you plopped down like it was a trampoline. With legs crossed and twisting the bat between your palms, you wait patiently for the man of the hour to finally arrive, a smile on your black painted lips. 

By now there’s a decent sized crowd, all gaping mouths and wide eyes, some laughing but mostly struck with fear out of the freaks girl. 

He walks down the concrete steps, his heavy boots thudding against the hard ground. You can see the muscles in his jaw tense from where you are sitting, his knuckles tighten into a fist and his shoulders broaden and angle back, like he's trying like hell, not to yell out right by the look of the destruction you caused to his van. 

“Hi baby,” you greet, sugary sweet like you just brought him balloons on his birthday, “having a fun night?”

Eddie is seething, nostrils flared as he tries to even his breathing, “what did you do Lil?” 

“What?” You ask, turning your body to look at the glass splintered on the windshield and smashed on the ground, “oh, you mean all this? It’s pretty right?” 

Eddie drags his tongue across the front of teeth, sucking in a breath, “you’re kidding right?”

Unhooking your crossed leg you slam your heel into one of his headlights, the satisfying crunch of the plastic pieces littering to the ground, you smile pretty up at him, but he doesn’t bat an eye, “oh Eddie,” you tsk, “I don’t like jokes… or being,” the tip of the bat hits the other headlight with a crunch, “… lied to.” 

“Fucking Christ, what are you even talking about?” Eddie spits as he looks to Jeff then to Gareth. 

“Really? Then why did Robin call to say you were here with that bimbo Chrissy?” 

The crowd ooo’s as Eddie stomps towards you, his face struck with anger, the browns of his eyes completely black as he glared down at you, his necklace still swaying as he leans forward into your space, only malice in his voice. 

“Time to go,” he grunts, grabbing the bat from your hand and tossing it to the ground, “now.” 

“Nah,” you say, looking past him and waving at Steve, he returns the wave with a confused look at a silent gasp at the look of Eddie’s van, “I’m just getting started.” 

Steve tries to push everyone inside shows over! Let’s go! But nobody budges, waiting for the train wreck, unable to look away. 

Eddie pulls you from the van by your feet, your bare ass skimming the hood as your skirt lifts up, sure to leave a burn, you land on your feet, waltzing over to aforementioned blonde and taking her drink from her, downing the horrific liquid in a gulp. She’s too stunned to speak as you twist back around to catch a glimpse of Eddie, shooting him a wink. 

The knife tucked into the cute holder on your thigh comes out with a flick. Flashing the steel blade to Eddie, you wink before whipping back around to Chrissy just in time to catch her ponytail between your fingers. The knife cuts through her hair like a shear, close to her scalp beneath the emerald ponytail, her golden locks fisted limply in your hand. 

The scream she lets out is blood curdling and ugly, but you don’t mistake the laugh coming from Robin or Steve as Chrissy runs inside, her cheer squad hurrying behind to help their friend. 

“Wait! You forgot this!” You say shaking the blond strands towards the door, “I’m sure some glue or tape will hel—”

You're caught off guard as Eddie’s hand wraps around your wrist and starts dragging you away from the party back to his van. He wiggles the knife from your fingers and closes it on his hip, shoving it into his jacket. 

The smile never left your lips, not even when your shoulder blades rest against the side of the van as Eddie crowds you in. 

“Jesus Christ you’re fucking crazy, y’know that?” his words are mean but there’s a hint of something else on his lips, a smirk.

Your fingers move to his belt buckle, threading it through itself as you look up at him through your lashes, “you love it.” 

His eyes roll tk the back of his head, and he takes a deep breath, animalistic instinct kicking in as you suck his thumb into your mouth. 

“Fuck.”   

Your thighs are wrapped around his waist in two seconds flat. He grunts as his thick fingers glide through your wet heat, finally noticing you weren’t wearing any panties he groans guttural and low. 

His hand wraps around your throat and he smiles as you gasp for a little breath, eyes rolling into your skull as he cants his hips forward and his thick head pushes through your walls, filling you full. 

Your lips attach to his neck, licking and biting hard enough that your teeth marks will bruise a perfect dental record into his skin. A nice match for the red lips tattooed on the left of his neck, an identical mark to yours. 

“Shit,” he groans slamming into you harder and harder, shaking the van on its flat tires, broken glass hitting the ground like hail. “Always so fucking tight for me baby, fuck I love your pussy.” 

You’re mewling into him, inhaling his words as he bites your lip, licking the blood from them and running it over his teeth. 

The front door opens and shuts but neither of you stop, not even when the sobs from Chrissy get closer as her friends bell her into their car, parked right behind Eddie’s van. 

Eddie’s face is buried into your neck and you catch Chrissy’s blue teared stare, horror on her face as you and Eddie both moan. “Mm fuck,” you say to her, eyes boring into hers, “like what you see, Christopher?”

The screaming huff from her mouth is  heard around Hawkins as she slams the door to Heather's car, tires screeching as they tear out of Steve’s driveway. 

Eddie chuckles into your skin and shakes his head. A smile on his face as he kisses you hard, pumping into you harder and before long you're both coming and moaning into the night, completely lost in your own world. 

Later that night in Eddie’s bed, you're tangled naked and fresh from a shower beneath soft cotton sheets. His hands lazily work up and down your back, your arm propped up beneath your chin on his chest, “so, I did good, right?”

Eddie laughs and blows a ring of smoke into the air, “you were perfect my little vixen, I could barely contain myself when you were sitting on the hood like that, looked so fucking sexy, wanted to fuck you right there.” 

You both laugh at the theatrics of the night, and you remember something that’s missing, “gonna need my knife back by the way, feels weird without it.” 

Eddie points to his jacket crumbled on the floor next to a mountain of discarded clothing and leather boots, “it’s in my pocket, just keeping it safe.” 

You roll your eyes with a tease and slither from the sheets, bare skinned beneath the yellow warm lamp, the jacket feels cool in your hands, silk pockets gentle on your fingers as your grab your knife and pull it out. 

Examining it in your fingers it truly was the perfect gift from the man you adored, etched into the handle, a script he cut himself, “to my Lilith.” 

liked this? consider a reblog like and comment! thanks for reading

another story in the same lilith au - here & here

[brattybattydumb]

I probably butchered his design but like. Another dingy old man to fantasize about

[knithacker]

Knit An Off The Map Cowl Designed By Jessie Ksanznak ... It's Ziggy Zaggy Fun! 👉 https://buff.ly/3zQMYds 💜

[wendigoruble]

Lazytown, Soccor Sucker:

My thots and feels on one of my favorite episodes. Mostly pertaining to Robbie and Sportacus ofc. [Long post]

The episode opens with Pixel and Ziggy playing a soccer video game when Stephanie invites them to actually play outside. This leads the kids into kicking their soccer ball so hard that it flies into the hatch to Robbies lair.

Meanwhile, Robbie is just trying to eat cake, drink soda, and watch the shopping channel... Then his cake gets splooted.

I'd be upset as well. This leads Robbie to realize what the kids are doing when he gets a convenient ad for the Soccer Bot.

I can't get over his stance as he leans on the railing. He looks like a crab 😭

So Robbie orders a robot, and his mission is to stop the kids from playing soccer. This is really important. Enter Sportacus. He sees the kids are playing, and he needs to warm up before joining them, obviously.

This is really important for soccer. After a banger of the musical number, Sportacus finally joins the kids. They're playing together, and it's really sweet and cute, then Robbie gets punished for lurking on them the entire time

His poor fingies! After a little rant, he decides to confront Sportacus and once again has the ball kicked at him. Further punishment for lurking.

Okay for one look at the way Sportacus was running the heck are his arms doing.

But also I just really like their interaction in this section of the episode. Robbie pops out from behind the wall with a "Hello Sportacus!" As catching the ball. Sportacus returns the greeting with a very chipper "Hi Robbie!"

For some reason, that just sits so softly in my heart. It's so precious. Not to mention, when Robbie challenges them to a game, Sportacus is quick to invite Robbie to join their team. He wants to include Robbie, and that's just 😭💜🩵💜🩵💜🩵 Plus. Stephanie and Ziggie are also willing to have Robbie on their team, so thats just extra!!! AHH

Anyways, Robbie challenges Sportacus to a one on one game. All the while, Sportacus is smiling and looking back for approval to let Robbie play. And it's so precious!!!!

Look how happy he is to play with Robbie!! (Hah) Now I know Robbie told Sportacus he wouldn't be playing him, but you can't tell me Sport didn't know Robbie was in the soccer robot. Just a couple scenes later through a speaker in the robot Robbie calls him "Sportaloser". He has to know its Robbie then.

Also.... Notice something really important.

ROBBIE DIDN'T CHALLENGE WITH THE USUAL "SPORTACUS MUST LEAVE IF I WIN!" Robbie just wanted to win! (All be it to get the kids to stop playing, but still!)

Sportacus is slightly intimidated by the robot, but he doesn't back down, of course. He happily takes on the challenge, and when they get down to actually playing, Sportacus is having fun.

Robbie is tripping him, pushing him, and overall playing extremely rough (inside a giant metal suit, no less). But literally the entire time, Sportacus is smiling. He even gets up after being pushed down, and he shakes his head with a most gleeful smile. During this entire thing, Robbie yells, "I love sports!!" And Sportacus loses 7 to 1.

Their game closes with Stephanie concerned that Sportacus lost and Sportacus just happily stating "I did it best!" And I honestly think he's just happy he finally got to play a game with Robbie

[lockwie]

15 questions, 15 people:

I was tagged by my friend @thepointlessmasterpiece 💜

1. Are you named after anyone?

Kinda kinda not.

2. When was the last time you cried?

No idea, I cry super often so it's generally a non-event.

3. Do you have kids?

Not in the typical way but I have a bunch of young adults/older teens who call me their dad :)

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I think a normal amount. Usually for comedic + venting purposes.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Their mood, probably.

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I'll watch both. But I normally prefer happy endings.

8. Any special talents?

I was going to say nothing because I am a jack of all trades master of none... But actually I think I am quite good at catching animals when needed. As you can imagine this doesn't happen often.

9. Where were you born?

In a city I never lived in but that's in the same region I currently live in.

10. What are your hobbies?

Drawing, playing the cello badly, learning bits of languages, random arts and crafts stuff

11. Do you have any pets?

A bearded dragon named Ziggy 🦎

12. What sports do you/have you played?

I don't play any sports, I hate competition. I enjoy swimming and rollerskating though.

13. How tall are you?

1.75m

14. Favourite subject in school?

Mostly consistently probably biology. But every given year my fav subject always depended on the teacher.

15. Dream job?

I agree with @thepointlessmasterpiece , garden hermit sounds perfect 😅 Otherwise anything that doesn't require shit loads of paperwork nor being exploited by some evil capitalist. It's a dream job because it doesn't exist ✨

I'm tagging @zefly @sirnica @hermitcyclop @perevision @fooolisher @quietduckpond @dirbanu @shieldmaidenofsherwood @coccinelf @eaion @mxmollusca @firstofficerkittycat @enterprise-come-in @wtfspocks @tocautiouslygo if y'all feel like it, no pressure at all though 💜

[sinister--potato]

Ziggy boy 💜

[jessythebunny]

💞 official ships 💞:

💙✨•Jessy(me) x Jonathan (oc)•✨🤎

💗✨•Messy(my twin sister) x Liam(oc)•✨💛

💜✨•Lucy(oc) x Rami(oc)•✨💙

🩵✨•Venessa(oc) x Ken(oc)•✨🤍

💜✨•Saiko(oc) x Alex(oc)•✨🩷

💙✨•Anna(oc) x Otis(oc)•✨💜

💙✨•Thomas x Rosie•✨❤

❤✨•James x Emily•✨💚

💙✨•Gordon x Rebecca•✨💛

🤎✨•Toby x Henrietta•✨🧡

💚✨•Duck x Oliver•✨💚

💚✨•Henry x Hiro•✨🖤

🖤✨•Donald x Jamie(@jammyjams1910)•✨🩵

🖤✨•Douglas x Emily(@just-a-douglas-simp-existing)•✨💗

🖤✨•Diesel x Mavis•✨💛

💚✨•Percy x Lady•✨💜

💚✨•Boco x Daisy•✨💚

💚✨•Luke x Millie•✨💙

💙✨•Edward x Molly•✨💛

🧡✨•Murdoch x Mia(oc)•✨🖤

🤍✨•Skiff x Marina(oc but she's a mermaid)•✨💛

🧡✨•Rusty x Duncan•✨💛

❤✨•Skarloey x Rheneas•✨♥

💙✨•Sir handel x Peter sam•✨💚

💗✨•Caitlin x Spencer•✨🩶

💚✨•Cranky x Carly•✨💛

🧡✨•Nia x Paxton•✨💚

💙✨•Timothy x Marion•✨🧡

🩶✨•Timothy(ghost train) x Hannah•✨💛

🩶✨•Toad x Dilly•✨🤍

❤✨•Bertie x Bulgy•✨❤

🤎✨•Diesel 10 x Bert•✨💛

💙✨•Sidney x Norman•✨❤

❤✨•Den x Dart•✨💛

💛✨•Arry x Class 40•✨💚

🖤✨•Sir topham hatt x Lady hatt•✨💜

❤✨•Rocky x Harvey•✨❤

🤍✨•Harold x Jeremy•✨🤍

💚✨•Whiff x Scruff•✨💛

💙✨•Captain x Butch•✨💛

💛✨•Stephen x Glynn•✨❤

💜✨•Ryan x Arther•✨❤

💚✨•the flying scotsman x connor•✨🩵

💛✨•Kevin x Philip•✨💚

💙✨•Porter x Salty•✨❤

💙✨•Belle x Flynn•✨❤

🩷✨•Ashima x Rajiv•✨🩵

💜✨•Charlie x Billy•✨🧡

💚✨•Edd x Ell•✨💚

💙✨•Tom x Tamara•✨💙

💜✨•Matt x Matilda•✨💜

❤✨•Tord x Tori•✨❤

💙✨•Sportacus x Robbie Rotten•✨💜

🩷✨•Stephanie x Ziggy•✨🩵

💛✨•Stingy x Trixie•✨❤

🧡✨•Milfred the mayor x Miss Busy Buddy•✨💙

💙✨•Pixel x Victoria (oc)•✨💚

💛✨•Cuddles x Giggles•✨💗

🧡✨•Handy x Petunia•✨💙

💚✨•Flippy x Flaky•✨❤

💜✨•Lammy x Truffles•✨💙

💙✨•Splendid x lovely(oc)•✨🤍

❤✨•Splendont x Patty•✨💛

🤎✨•Xebas x Liz(oc)•✨🧡

🧡✨•Nicky x Gina(oc)•✨🤍

🤍✨•Snowers x Winter•✨🤍

💙✨•Sniffles x Nutty•✨💚

💙✨•Lumpy x The mole•✨💜

💜✨•Toothy x Kira(oc)•✨🩵

❤✨•Splendien(oc) x Disco bear•✨🧡

💙✨•Splendiana(oc) x Wonder Wanda•✨🧡

💚✨•Sneaky x Mouse kaboom•✨🧡

💚✨•Green x Light green(oc)•✨💚

💜✨•Purple x Red•✨❤

💙✨•Blue x Pink•✨🩷

🧡✨•Orange x Cyan•✨🩵

❤✨•Remzi x Kadriye•✨💜

🤎✨•Merkit x Faride•✨🩷

🩶✨•Talking Tom x talking Angela•✨🤍

💙✨•Talking Hank x talking Becca•✨🖤

🧡✨•Dogday x Catnap•✨💜

💚✨•Hoppy hopscotch x Bobby bearhug•✨❤

🩷✨•Picky pig x Craftycorn•✨🩵

💙✨•Bubba bubbaphant x Kickin chicken•✨💛

❤✨•Miss delight x Baldi•✨💚

💙✨•Hefty smurf x Smurfette•✨💙

💙✨•Handy smurf x Marina•✨💚

💙✨•Brainy smurf x clumzy smurf •✨💙