DEAR READER
Not today Justin
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JVL
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trying on a metaphor
Sade Olutola
will byers stan first human second
Xuebing Du
Stranger Things
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom
occasionally subtle
Janaina Medeiros
Misplaced Lens Cap
if i look back, i am lost
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
noise dept.
No title available
sheepfilms
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@elusiveanomaly
♫ Skyper - Hero (Slowed) ♫
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I've always wanted to do Mermay weeee! Feast thine eyes!
I know I'm super late to the party but, hey, life is life. My friend literally told me I had the AO3 curse a while back — THEY WEREN'T WRONG Q_Q
Also, happy pride month! Rise up my fellow bisexuals 💪 LFG!
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the power of hitting 'end task' on a glitchy program in task manager is intoxicating. i feel like an assassin. i feel like a tyrant. you don't want to work properly? begone. off with your head. i need to kill my apps with a guillotine
Was thinking of megamind a little bit when drawing these..
Sportacus with his older brother, first time being in lazytown.
🫶 Bone apple teeth 🫶
♫ Delfino Plaza - Super Mario Sunshine ♫
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Feels like this might be a health code violation ... but hey, what do I know🧍♀️
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♫ Angel of Darkness - Alex C. feat. Yass ♫
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🗣️ BUT I WILL FIGHT AND I WILL STAND 🗣️
I had so much fun with this dude 😭 I saw this show very sporadically, and out of order when I'd wake up early for school, but the art style and designs were my bread and butter. My inner child is foaming at the mouth — she can't even think straight.
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some of my proudest commissions from last year methinks ! these were for @taojave and elderling - thank you again!
Just the 2 best dads in all of Lazytown. :3
A doodle of Robbie and his past BEFORE Sportacus' arrival in Lazytown.
🔹There were other children before the ones we all know and love. Before Stephanie's existence and arrival to Lazytown. But they were lost...taken from Robbie but that's a tale for another day...
🔹Robbie loved them all, until the hero before Sportacus took that all away and left Robbie with nothing. I pictured him being left only with memories and Bessie; I always pictured her as non-human: she reminds me of either a Siren, due to her voice having some power over the Mayor or a Fae herself.
🔹Speaking of Fae, after #9 hero destroyed Robbie's creation, his past Fae comrades encouraged him to return....to leave this nest he created and come home. Start over. But Robbie is refuses. He'd build again, start over but it will be a town of Lazy, so no one leaves or is injured ever again.
🔹Robbie left his Fae community to build a perfect world for children. These children were often orphans, abused or simply forgotten. It was a Peter Pan sort of thing: come with me and you'll live a perfect life. A safe life. Bessie was never one for the rules of her people but she saw Robbie's vision and wanted to help. She wanted to help the children.
✨LazyTown x Pokémon Part 2!✨
♫ Miitopia OST - Boss Battle ♫
(This song just SCREAMS Sportacus to me. On everything I love, they're using the same soundfonts and everything! Am I tripping? Maybe ... I mean my knee hurts as I'm posting this so yeah wild.)
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Somebody get Victorious Justice on the line cause here I am once again, feeling lost, but now and then, I breathe it in to let it go 🗣️
But yeah, part 2 is finally here after a thousand years! That took a lot longer than it needed to :')
Kinda proud how some of these turned out 👉👈 But Chef Pablo did me dirty 😭 I can't even look at it anymore, just take it, nothing I do for it helps.
But, y'know, if I can add silly little bells to Íþróttaálfurinn's outfit, and every time he moves you just hear, "jingle jangle jingle jangle", like some glorified tambourine ... you bet your keister imma do it.
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Part 1.
✨ A Fae's Muse ✨
♫ Emptiness - Old doll (piano cover) ♫
(CW: Graphic)
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He couldn't see, and he couldn't move. No matter how hard he tried, his eyelids were just too heavy to lift. Every attempt landed another dried crust of discharge to stab painfully under his waterlines.
An ugly sourness melded in his dry mouth, meshing with a taste of copper. The last pleasant thing he remembered indulging in was a fresh, red apple; perfectly crisp with just the right amount of sweetness. Was that why his tongue felt so stale and acidic as it rested torpid between his teeth? It must've been his last meal if the gnawing in his stomach had anything to say. That was also to say, he probably hadn't been able to brush his teeth.
What time was it, anyway?
Where exactly was he?
He just couldn't think straight, and that was usually a sign of mischief knocking at the door.
His arms were numb, pulsing dull waves of unease, but they had just enough feeling in them for his body to register that they were even connected to him.
Yet again, they wouldn't move.
Was he injured?
Was he sick?
His legs didn't have any better luck. They were just as unresponsive — but at least his arms didn't thrum with a throbbing ache that clawed into nerves and bone. The inner reservoir of his magic was stagnant and weakened as he prodded around in it.
WHAT IS GOING ON?!
A soft hitch pushed out of his throat when sharp, razor-like wires tugged around his neck, forcing his head up straight. They dug into his flesh as if he were tied meat, and he was sure they'd leave a mark if they kept at it.
He tried to speak — to yell or call out to anyone who would listen — but all that came to be was a pitiful groan, too weak to change the neutral expression on his face.
Everything was just so tiring.
If he had dozed off, he couldn't tell.
The air felt colder now; not the cold that meant snow or frolicking in rain puddles after a hefty autumn shower, rather, the one of impish magic that seduced and toyed with its plaything.
There was a very bored fae lingering about.
It was familiar.
“Oh, my dear, Sportacus, I just can't wait to see your next performance!”
Ah … he could finally put a label to it — the name; the boisterous purr that could carry itself far and wide.
Robbie.
He tried to speak — to move — to simply open his eyes!
All he could manage was the thin sliver of light filtering through his lashes. He couldn't make out much, but a shadow of purple and black stood out prominently amongst the blur.
Was that Roberto the Great?
Was this Robbie’s lair?
The lights around them suddenly switched off with a resounding flick, plunging them into obscurity. It would've disturbed him had he not felt the wash of magic sparkle in the distance. He couldn't exactly remember how large Robbie's lair was, or what all was in it, but the amount of his essence filling the space around them made Sportacus choke.
He was now blinded by a piercing white after another flick echoed throughout the room. Another whimper had spilled from his lips, unable to move his head away from the spotlight.
It was too much.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's show! I am Roberto the Great: the world's most rotten and devilishly handsome ringmaster!” That baritone voice of his was grandeur and warm, rolling his r’s, and enunciating each word with a sultry flair.
“I give you our newest addition to our ballet line: Sportacus Ten, LazyTown’s flippity-floppity hero!”
Ballet?
He swore he heard a cheering crowd booming their approval within their confines.
There's no way Robbie could fit hundreds of people in his own home. This had to be the magic that was currently suffocating him.
Right?
“Sit back, relax, and enjoy what our lovely hero can do!”
Sportacus's breath quickened, unsure of just what Robbie had exactly planned, or even expected of him.
The crowd once more announced their excitement, and if he had to question how real this audience was again, he'd probably find his headache worsening. He couldn't see anything through the brightness still searing his retinas.
After a beat of silence, a snap interrupted it, now adding a new warmth to his side. He could smell burnt sugar and popcorn from up close — a layer of spicy cologne — oxidized metal and hair gel — the mixture of scents that always piqued interest below his navel.
A dark, gravelly chuckle confirmed what he already assumed.
Even in this state, you drive me wild being so close up.
Robbie leaned in with a warm breath ghosting over the shell of his pointed ears, licking his lips, and putting on the most lustful voice he could muster.
“Go on then, elf; show me how strong and talented you are. Inspiration has to come from somewhere, Sporty. You wouldn't want to make your best friend bored, would you?”
B-best friend?
Sportacus gasped slightly from the tender kiss planted on his cheek, tickling his skin with that fake mustache.
He admittedly became frustrated when the villain soon vanished with another snap.
He wondered for the briefest moment just how he'd be able to act when deep in lethargy, still rooted to the place he first found himself in. A twitch of his finger was the best he could do.
As if on cue, whatever he thought of accomplishing was soon dismissed. Swirls of mist curled over his limbs and head, infiltrating the last bit of magic he had for himself, tugging painfully at the sharp strings.
In an instant, he could feel himself move.
Gentle music had begun to play, and he recognized it as a piano softly lulling him through the worry in his chest. The reverb of it against metal walls made it feel more ethereal than a simple grand piano on stage, and it was all the more unnerving as much as it was comforting.
Air hit his cheeks as the magic swung his body, delicately puppeteering him like a marionette. The more it controlled him, the more he could feel. A tingle of nerves spread throughout his hands, and a stinging ache made itself noticeable when his toes kissed the ground.
He remembered those boots the first time he came to this town; the pair of shoes Robbie’s salesman persona — Rob U. Blind, was it? — had given him. This scenario was much the same, albeit in a more intimate way with a spell guiding every limb in a serene dance.
The crowd remained deathly silent, but Robbie’s essence remained somewhere beyond the veil of light, watching gleefully — hungrily.
Once he started moving, however, he found that he never stopped.
He could feel the fae’s excitement as he was spun quickly in a pirouette with golden hair smacking into his face. His neck snapped to and fro, recentering itself with every few spins, causing the pinch that spread burning static up his skull.
Each time the song increased in intensity, he found himself stuck orbiting around the lair, blinking away sweat that ran down his brows.
Nausea seeped in when the song ended up looping for the third time, making his stomach rumble and twist; bile simmered deep under his sternum, threatening a retch of acid and sugary saliva.
He wanted to give up.
He didn't want this.
Why won't he stop?
Why couldn't he hear his crystal?
Could he at least get something to eat?
On and on the show continued, entertaining the ringmaster that had stared him down the entire performance. The piano had replayed the same song about twenty times … or was it thirty?
Was there anyone actually playing it, or was it merely an illusion?
His skin felt raw where magic and wire met, digging wounds that stamped into him like iron chains never could.
The vomit that eventually spewed out on himself did nothing to stop the sadistic cycle of flips and twirls; in fact, it only seemed to encourage Robbie, accelerating the speed of his movements, and even the tempo of the song.
How fitting for an elf to suffer the curse of eternal dancing.
The smell was becoming unbearable, and his patience for the repeating music had dwindled ages ago. Over and over that same tune, hounding at his brain until there was nothing left.
He was starting to slip on his own blood when the wounds began to leak and pour out onto the floor. Whatever shoes he wore were beginning to sink into the bottom of his feet, squishing flesh into bruised mush.
His heart thrashed against his ribcage, ready to burst from the exhaustion at any minute. Even the rare wobble of his muscles couldn't surprise him anymore, forcing the fae's magic to strengthen to compensate for the lost energy.
This was it.
Robbie was trying to kill him.
And he was succeeding.
Roberto’s booming guffaw was a small reprieve from the same droning piano, but scared Sportacus at the same time.
“If you can't beat ‘em, why not play with them instead?!”
A vicious roar of applause came from his supposed audience, never once showing a hint of fear or disgust.
They probably enjoyed this just as much as Robbie.
Lights started to dim, and sounds became muffled as he started to sag forward.
The last thing he heard was the villain's bubbly cheers.
“Looks like I won, Sportabuddy! How about you put this in LazyTown's history books?!”
The world around him had finally faded … the curtains, in his mind, had finally fallen.
And yet … Robbie still wouldn't stop.
Sportacus kept dancing.
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🌻Fret not kind folks, your dearest mother has come back to feed you well🌻
♫ flo rida - sugar ♫
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I was given a few ideas by @fantasticglitter656 and a couple of them actually did resonate with me! I thought it'd be a wholesome little break from WIPS, but man did these kick my ass 😭 They were fun to do, don't get me wrong, but yikes doing backgrounds stung.
Funny thing too? Usually Sportacus is super easy to draw for me, and I struggle with Robbie. HAH — NO! It was the complete opposite this time for some reason 🥀
But yeah, that's art :'D Enjoy the muscles 💀
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(OH, and I don't think I've mentioned this yet, but to the authors who saw the fic fanart, thank you smmm 🥺💖 I'm truly so glad you like them, and am so honored to see y'all despite the fact that you wrote them a while ago. Your responses made me so giddy n shi. The fandom is still here after all this time.)
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Glanni and Íþróttaálfurinn angst? In this economy?!
♫ Odetari - Keep Up ♫
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I'm finally starting to finish old WIPS in my hard drive 🐎 YIPPIE WAHOOOO! And I'm working on a few Sportarobbie sketches as we speak :^]
... Sometimes I remember just how much I pigeon-holed myself into LazyTown and literally NOTHING else. Whatever — I enjoy my whimsy huldufólk guys, it's all good 😭
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Iron lung fanart !!! Loved this movie
