#glanni glæpur í latabæ
I come bearing the gift of
｡.｡:+♡*♥ Suggestive Robbie Eyebrows ♥*♡+:｡.｡
✧･ﾟBONUS ROUND･ﾟ✧ - Glanni Glæpur edition
I originally made this for a friend, but then I decided y'all deserved to have it too, so here is a Rikki Riki valentine. (I hope the Icelandic is correct?)
Post link
Memes/Jokes and Poison Apple! (Glanni/Sportacus)Someday y’all will stop my sinful hand XD Enjoy!
(ao3 username is indigorose50)
“What,” Glanni began, horror crawling up his spine like a nightmare, “are you doing?”
Swallowing his mouthful, Sportacus answered, “Having a snack.” He said this as casually as if he were mowing the grass. The two were standing in Lazytown’s park. The kids had gone inside for lunch and the couple had some time alone.
His boyfriend was too powerful, Glanni decided in that moment. Slightly-Above-Average Glanni’s ass; Sportacus had to be Way-Above-Average at least. Sportacus took another bite of his ‘snack’ and Glanni’s whole body shivered.
“What you are eating?” Maybe his eyes were playing tricks. Maybe this was a prank.
Social Media/Video Games and Glannithro!
I love YouTuber AUs but can never get them across well in fic form. Hope this is clear enough! Also I beg you to check out some of the make up used here, I promise it makes it funnier XD
“And we’re going to finish off today with the Charlotte Tilbury Filmstar bronzer and highlighter.” Glanni held up the pallet for the camera. “It’s something like 50 bucks, who can remember, but it’s a good one, Glæpurettes.” Opening it, he patted his brush into the bronzer.
Glanni Glæpur, one of the most famous beauty gurus on YouTube, stared at the brush before licking it. He smacked his lips. “Dry. Tastes nothing like bronze.” With a shrug, he applied it to his face.
Day #3 - Sportscandy/Food
————————————–A dark shadow blocked out the cozy sunshine. Glanni whined in protest, opening an eye and squinting for a moment before lifting his sunglasses to his forehead and replacing his hand behind his head.
“You tire yourself out already?” Glanni asked with a yawn from where he was sprawled on the blanket. “That has to be a new record.”
Sportacus laughed, hands clasped behind his back as he admired the image of his, admittedly, unlikely boyfriend lounging on his own beach towel. Something about seeing the renowned criminal relaxing against the backdrop of his own heroic colors just sent his heart an affectionate flutter. After staying on his feet for another second, just to take in the sight of the other man for that much longer, Sportacus spun around to sit at Glanni’s side.
“Not tired at all,” he said cheerfully, leaning over to give Glanni a peck on the cheek. “I just missed you.”
“Charming little shit,” Glanni giggled, tilting up his chin and smacking his lips together. “Get down here so I can kiss you.”
It was a good thing the children weren’t around, or Sportacus would have been horrified with Glanni’s language. Luckily, it was a nice, quiet day away from all responsibility and worry. The kids were all home working on science fair projects, and Milford had even promised not to partake in any physical labor of any sort to ensure that Sportacus could have a lovely, uninterrupted date with his significant other. He leaned over to let his lips brush Glanni’s, enjoying the minty freshness that showed just how considerate the man could be in his presence.
“Will you come swimming with me?” Sportacus asked hopefully.
Glanni sighed, falling silent for a few seconds as he mulled over the prospect. Eventually, he sighed and pulled his hands out from under his head to better reach out and pull Sportacus down to him, smothering his own body in that of the wonderfully bare-chested hero. The criminal let his fingertips dance over the back of Sportacus’ neck as he met the man’s lips with his own for a long, lovely kiss.
“Is that a maybe?” the hero snickered only after they parted.
“Foryou, I’ll consider it,” Glanni relented. “It’ll give you a taste of your own medicine, you awful man.”
The hero looked genuinely confused at the statement. “What do you mean?”
“Can’t have you being the only god in swim shorts and sparkling in the sunlight with water dripping down his gorgeous stomach—” Glanni traced a finger down the hero’s front as he spoke. “—looking like the most beautiful, alluring man on the goddamn planet…” He gave Sportacus a wink. “’Cause I’m gonna put you to shame.”
Sportacus giggled, leaning in to kiss his partner again, more briefly this time. “I’m glad. It will be fun, Glanni. You’ll like it.”
“I know I will,” the man purred. “But…after a snack. You’re always going on about high duration or whatever, right?”
The hero rolled his eyes. “Hydration, Glanni. It means drinking water to make sure you—”
“Bleh,” the other man interrupted, scrunching his nose. “Nasty stuff. I’ll stick to my soda, thank you.”
Sportacus’ smile wavered. “Glanni, soda isn’t good for you. You shouldn’t drink it all the time. It doesn’t help you stay hydrated at all, it—”
The hero fell silent at the touch of Glanni’s finger upon his lips.
“Sporty, what did I say about the lectures?”
The blond pouted.
“I do your little twenty times time, I let you wake me up at the crack of ten o’clock, I even let you guilt me into having an entire day every damn week where I don’t have any candy. You try to talk me out of my soda and I’ll have to give something else up instead, understand?”
Sportacus frowned around Glanni’s index finger, his mustache drooping ever so slightly.
“’M un’leh terin’ ter—”
“I know, I know you’re only trying to look out for me, Sweetie, but you overdo it. Sometimes you’re as bad as the yellow menace at home.”
Sportacus frowned, tilting his head in curiosity when Glanni pulled back his finger and pushed Sportacus off of him so he could sit up properly. The hero blinked, staring at the sky for a moment before turning his head to gaze at his boyfriend again.
“I just worry about you,” the hero said from where he now laid. “I know you do not like healthy things, Glanni, but they’re good for you! I want you to feel good and be healthy and…live a long life.”
“Health is more individualized than you think,” Glanni sighed contently, rolling his shoulders. “Anyway, if you’re going to have me running around out there looking like a drowning fool, we should fuel up first, don’t you think?”
Sportacus smiled at the change in subject, sitting back up so quickly that Glanni startled at the movement.
“That’s a good idea!” the hero agreed. “It’s important to have regular breaks when you’re playing, especially outside,” he recited as he reached for his small, blue cooler.
Glanni gave a noncommittal hum in response as he reached into a large floral patterned beach bag to produce a small, pink cooler of his own.
“Oh, you have your own! That was very smart planning, Glanni.”
The con man flashed a smile at his boyfriend and set it in his lap. “Of course. Can’t have my goodies mixing with your little sports muffins or whatever and having you go into overload.”
Sportacus laughed and nodded. “We wouldn’t want to do that again,” he agreed. “Though I feel like I probably packed too much, now. I brought extra in case you wanted to try anything.”
Glanni waved a hand and lowered his sunglasses again as the sun emerged once more from behind a fluffy cloud overhead. “You knock yourself out. I have my orange slices anyway.”
The hero paused, hand frozen in mid-air where it held his sandwich. Glanni didn’t seem to notice and set about unlocking the lid to his cooler.
“You have orange slices?” Sportacus asked in amazement.
Glanni gave him a curious look, one eyebrow raising above his sunglasses. “Yes.”
“That you’ll eat?”
“They’re good! What, I can’t have one sportscandy that I like?”
“I didn’t think you liked any!” Sportacus replied with a grand smile. “That’s wonderful, Glanni! I’m so hap….”
His words died in his throat when he saw what his partner was pulling out of the cooler. It was spherical, yes; orange, yes; but that was definitely not sportscandy. Sportscandy wasn’t made out of tinfoil wrappers.
“Glanni, what is that?” he asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.
The thin man gave him a look. “What does it look like? Orange slices.”
Sportacus could practically feel the blood draining from his face at the sight of Glanni unfurling the wrapper to reveal the wedges of chocolate arranged in a sphere within, each of them attached to a center spindle. He couldn’t decide whether he should be intrigued or disgusted at the level of detail in the wedge that Glanni picked from the bunch and raised to his lips. The chocolate pieces were all textured to look like actual orange slices, only…they weren’t. They weren’t and they could never be.
“Glanni, that’s not an orange.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it is. The package said so.”
Sportacus felt his shoulders drop. “You of all people should know that packaging doesn’t always tell the whole truth!” he pointed out. “Glanni, that’s candy, not sportscandy!”
“Says you.”
The hero nodded. “I do! That’s chocolate! Ah…here!” He set his sandwich aside and rummaged around in his cooler for a moment, soon producing a piece of fruit. “This is an orange!”
Glanni’s jaw dropped as he stared at the round thing. He tilted his head for a better view, inspecting every angle of the thing in Sportacus’ hand. After a moment, he blinked a few times and sat back. “Huh. Well, would you look at that,” he said in vague surprise. Glanni shrugged and popped another chocolate slice into his mouth.
“Glanni!”
“What?” the criminal whined. “I like mine better.”
Sportacus sighed, shaking his head as he watched his unlikely beloved eat his faux sportscandy. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked, a faint smile on his lips.
Glanni grinned, wiggling as he secured his comfort on his towel. “Give me a cuddle while I enjoy my orange slices and watch the water with me?”
The hero’s heart fluttered again and he moved closer to cradle the other man against him while they both ate. “I can do that.”
Dancing
/Singingand Canned Fruit (Íþró /Robbie)!The return of the useless gays! Enjoy!
“Teach me to dance.”
The words fall out of Íþróttaálfurinn’s mouth before the thought can fully form in is mind. Robbie stares at him, eyebrows up, and Íþró wonders if Robbie can see right through him.
“Why?” Robbie asks after a pause.
Íþró shrugs, trying to sound as causal as possible over his rapidly beating heart. “I do not know how. Bessie and Milford are getting married tomorrow. There will be dancing at their reception.”
Robbie blinks owlishly. “How can you, the King of Moving, not know how to dance?”
“I do not know how to dance with someone. Can you help out me or not?”
Oops I’m late! Oh well. Here’s Day #1: Plants/Gardening.
Alternate prompt: The start of something wonderful :P——————————————————–
The soon-to-be class garden was coming along well. Though not yet in the designated garden space waiting outside, the children had been caring for their little seedlings dutifully every day. They checked on them in the morning when they arrived to school and once again before heading home at the end of the day. One little boy, Íþrótta, was particularly excited about the project. He doted on his sprouts as though they were his children, and he took incredible joy in seeing their slow but sure progress every day.
“It’s like he uses magic on ‘em or somethin’,” one of the other children grumbled under his breath as he gathered up his things to go home.
The boy, Glanni, was probably the only student in the class who did not care for their gardening project. The entire thing felt like just too much work for, in his mind, a worthless payoff. Glanni had only been doing the bare minimum to try and keep his plants alive just so the teacher wouldn’t scold him. Which was why, watching the other boy tend to his seedlings day after day, Glanni just couldn’t understand why Íþrótta was so engaged in taking care of the stupid things. They were just dumb plants.
Even so, Glanni couldn’t deny the attention that Íþrótta’s sprouts seemed to generate. Their classmates marveled at his work and asked for tips, and the teacher praised the child’s green thumb. No one ever complimented anything Glanni did. Usually he just got in trouble or, worse, was left forgotten and ignored altogether. It wasn’t fair. Just because Íþrótta was a plant-obsessed weirdo didn’t mean he deserved all the attention.
He watched as his classmate finally turned away from his precious little seedlings to grab his backpack to head home. Glanni glared a hole into the back of the blond’s head as Íþrótta skipped out the door to greet whatever parental figure was probably waiting for him.
Glanni stuck his tongue out after his classmate before taking a quick glance around the room to make sure the teacher was busy helping someone else get ready to leave. He reached into his backpack, fishing around for a moment before slyly pulling out the small bottle of contraband soda. Careful to keep it out of view, Glanni crept over to the row of little boxes basking in the sunlight by the window.
“See if stupid Íþrótta has such a green thumb if his plants drink this,” he hissed quietly, tipping the bottle and letting the sugary drink sink into the soil.
The sound of his teacher’s voice out in the hallway made him pull back quickly, a few drops of soda sprinkling over the shelf before he quickly recapped the bottle and stowed it away and out of sight. With a confident smirk. Glanni slung his bag over his shoulder and scampered out of the room.
*****
The next morning, Glanni walked in to find a small cluster of his classmates huddled by the temporary garden. He smiled to himself, strolling over to reap the rewards of yesterday’s mischief. He gleefully imagined what Íþrótta’s face would look like upon seeing his sprouts…shock, awe, anger, disbelief. Any of them would have been hilarious to see. What he had not expected to find, though, was Íþrótta’s look of utter devastation.
The little blond boy stared at the shriveled, wilted plants with wet eyes, his chin quivering as he held out his hands toward the discolored seedlings as though he was trying to figure out some way to help them. A soft whimper escaped the child’s throat as he stood there, oblivious to the small crowd that had grown around him.
Glanni scratched the back of his neck, suddenly not feeling near as excited as he had moments ago. He heard the teacher approach and offer soft words of condolences, but they just seemed to make things worse. The dark-haired back cringed as Íþrótta began to sniffle, new tears sliding down the already-present tracks on his cheeks. Glanni chewed the inside of his cheek and sluggishly obeyed their teacher’s instruction for everyone to return to their seats. Íþrótta didn’t, and Glanni couldn’t help but stare as the teacher ushered him toward the classroom door and out into the hallway.
He spared the dead seedlings another glance, the tiny things no longer green and vibrant, but mere darkened husks sticking out of the dirt. He had done that. Glanni had hoped to teach Íþrótta a lesson, but for what? He had only wanted to knock down the boy’s pride down a bit, right? He hadn’t meant to…to destroy him. Just because he wanted to cause a little bit of mischief didn’t mean he had wanted to hurt anyone, even a goodie two-shoes like Íþrótta.
Glanni looked up when the other boy came back into the room. Íþrótta’s eyes were red and puffy, and the usual pep in his step—usually his most defining trait—was completely gone. Glanni watched him slide into his seat and stare at his desk as their teacher began her lessons for the day, but he didn’t hear a word. He was pretty sure Íþrótta wasn’t listening either.
Although Glanni rarely paid much attention in class, today was different. He had really screwed up and needed to fix it. With another glance over at the seedlings by the window, he started to come up with a plan to do just that. It wasn’t a very good one, but he felt so rotten after seeing how much he had hurt the other boy, Glanni knew that he had to try.
Recess somehow managed to take even longer than usual to arrive that day, which was definitely saying something as far as Glanni was concerned. He normally stayed behind, never one to be too keen on running around the playground to get messy and made fun of for being bad at sports, so when Glanni hung back while all the other children made a mad dash for the door, his teacher thought nothing of it.
He grabbed Íþrótta’s box of sad, wilted plants, tucked it under his arm, and hurried toward the back of the room, swiping a second box from the sill along the way. He set up shop out of sight in the corner, determined to make this work whether or not his teacher decided to come back inside before recess was finished or not. Glanni dug out the seedlings he had destroyed, tossing them and much of the contaminated soil in the nearby garbage can. He then, carefully, selected and transplanted the best-looking plants from the second box into the first. In direct competition of how he had always treated his project plants before today, Glanni picked up each of the little sprouts with the utmost care, determined not to damage a single root or leaf at any time during the process.
He worked quickly, and the scruffy-haired child finished just in time. No sooner had he set the boxes back in their places and tucked a slip of paper next to Íþrótta’s partially restored crop than the first of the children began to file back into the room. He hurried to his chair and sprawled across his desk in an attempt to look like he may have been taking a nap in lieu of going out to play with everyone else. Íþrótta soon followed the rest of their classmates, looking as dejected as he had that morning. Glanni held his breath as he watched the other boy’s movements, biting his lip when Íþrótta came to a stand-still upon seeing the line of plants by the window. Glanni buried his face into his arms to hide his smile as he watched an amazed, toothy grin spread over the other little boy’s face. He looked away, forcing himself to ignore Íþrótta from that point on. He didn’t dare give himself away.
The rest of the day was a bore, and Glanni spent most of the time doodling in his notebook instead of paying attention to their lessons. The end of the day eventually came and, like clockwork, Íþrótta went over to tend to his plants. His new plants. Glanni tried to ignore the boy as best he could, though he did end up sneaking a few quick glances out of the corner of his eye as he gathered up his things.
“Glanni?”
The child jumped, yelping at the sound of a suddenly too-close Íþrótta who had walked up behind him. He spun around with wide eyes.
“What?” he demanded a bit sharply, if only from momentary panic.
Íþrótta took a step back to give his classmate some space. He swallowed, wringing something in his hands a moment before speaking up again. “I…wanted to say thank you.”
The mischief-maker frowned. “F-for what?”
The blond boy offered a soft smile and held out the small note to his peer. Glanni didn’t need to look at it to know what it said, written in messy, angular handwriting. Sorry I killed your plants.
“For giving me some of your plants.”
Glanni’s heart dropped into his stomach, and his face paled to reflect it. Íþrótta just stood there with that same, warm expression.
“I didn’t—I mean! Uh…” The child’s mind scrambled to try and come up with a believable deflection. “What are you talking about?”
Íþrótta gave a brief look back toward all of the little boxes at the window. “Yours is the only box that’s missing anything.”
Glanni let out a small squeak, eyes immediately widening at his obvious oversight.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Íþrótta continued. “I…don’t know why you did it in the first place, but…thanks for sharing your plants with me.”
The trouble-maker shrugged and looked away, unsure how to react to his classmate’s attitude. This was supposed to be where Glanni got yelled out, ratted out, maybe even hit. Instead, Íþrótta just seemed…happy.
“You…wanna be friends?”
Frowning again, Glanni looked back to Íþrótta, completely puzzled. “What?”
“Do you want to be friends?” Íþrótta repeated. “I know you get in trouble a lot, but…that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends together. Right?”
Glanni stared at the strange, blond boy. Friends? Glanni had never had a friend before. A friend might be…nice. Though he knew he shouldn’t, the little boy found himself nodding. The smile that spread across Íþrótta’s face made a strange warmth bloom in his chest and, despite himself, Glanni couldn’t help but find himself also smiling at the prospect.
“…Okay.”
Íþrótta laughed, jumping and happily spinning at the news, his usual energy back to normal. “Great! Friends, then!”
Íþrótta held out his hand and Glanni found himself taking it, getting up from his desk.
“S-sorry my plants are kind of stinky…I didn’t take very good care of them.”
“That’s okay!” his new friend assured him. “We can take care of them together so they can grow and they’ll get better in no time!”
Glanni smiled. Yeah…better in no time. Maybe gardening was worth something after all.
Portrait of Glanni Glæpur, got curious to what he’d look like without makeup, so I make a makeup-less version 8)
Couple of random screenshot redraws of Stefán Karl and his characters, some lazier than others xP
If you’re curious about where these screenshots come from you can ask since I’ll only be listing the characters and where they’re from ;3;
- Ted from Titch and Ted (2015)
- Lárus from Polite People (2011)
- Unnamed character from Í Góðum Gír (2002)
- Robbie Rotten from Lazytown (2004)
- The priest from In the heart of robin hood (2015)
- Glanni Glæpur from Glanni Glæpur í Latabæ (1999)
Painting of Glanni Glæpur that’s vaguely inspired by Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel
Glanni Glæpur ✨
