styofa doing anything
pixel skylines
Discoholic 🪩
occasionally subtle
$LAYYYTER
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
sheepfilms
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
cherry valley forever
Andulka
Today's Document
dirt enthusiast
Not today Justin
Sweet Seals For You, Always
@theartofmadeline
YOU ARE THE REASON
Claire Keane
Kiana Khansmith
art blog(derogatory)
seen from Ecuador
seen from Ecuador
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Paraguay
seen from Türkiye
seen from Jordan
seen from Jordan
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@manicpitchy
yellow and gold are not green, pitch. GET PINCHED. HAPPY ST PATRICK'S
Is Jack entirely prepared for what he'd pinched to be sticky. Is he. It's not even syrup sticky, just a faint sticky, like the surface of a countertop you thought you'd wiped down properly, but you set a bowl down, and when you go to pick it up, there's a sticking noise.
Reap the fields you sow, Jack.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Just sorta. Grabs Pitch. The way you might scruff a kitten, really. North doesn't even seem to really process what he's doing, he's just picking Pitch up and moving him off to the side without even so much as looking up from the clipboard in his hand.
Scrunch.
Pitch bunched up in North's hand like a crumpled towel, dangling from his grip limply with the same sort of resignation to being picked up a common house cat might. ..which was to say, he was being mighty tempered about being moved from where he'd been warm and comfortable and nearly about to doze off.
If a little grumpy looking about it. "North."
"Well yes, but- hear me out. I know how this seems, but Jack and I -and this is a recent development, trust me- but we reason your fur in particular might have certain properties that might be.." This was getting a bit.. much. He sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Listen. Jack is anxious. I would know- I can taste it. But if your fur has any residual Hope left over in it, it may.. soothe him. And he promised to bring me good food in return, so."
Ears swing high in alert at the odd nature of that last sentence - food? "Are you sayin' the whole reason you're approaching me for this absolutely idiotic and impossible request is Jack promised you a bloody snack?"
A low growl builds up in the back of his throat before he takes the deepest of sighs. This whole thing was absolutely absurd and he'd better things to do, it was nearly Easter for crying out loud. "There are no such properties ta my fur. Tell Jack if he's anxious he should talk ta someone - not blackmail... you inta something like this. For a ruddy SNACK?" A paw waves dismissively at the air. "Talk ta North, he'd have pity on ya if you're that hungry. My answer is no - and if the miscreant has a problem he can take it up with me."
"Not for a snack-" He was getting too personal about it. ..should he? He warred with himself for a moment about whether or not to tell Aster, before deciding he had nothing to lose. He'd already asked the Guardian for his fur.
"I am not exactly at my best," he grit out, face scrunching in displeasure. "Unless I would like to fall into a deep sleep to maintain energy, I am being forced to eat and sleep to keep myself so much as upright." That was the truth, at least.
"It's not entirely pleasant, but." He nudged the jar with the tip of his foot, into Bunny's direction. "My own particular mixture of hot chocolate, as an act of.. good will. And for your time. It's semi-sweet chocolate bar, chopped, vanilla, cinnamon, brown sugar, a pinch of salt, nutmeg, cloves, almond powder, and some rum and milk that's been frothed. Enjoy.
"I will.. admit that I do not know what I've asked you, certainly. But I do swear on my Nature that the question is not.. insidious. It was more a question on account of wanting to make yarn out of your fur. Jack has asked for a sweater, and we have something of a deal, if I can make it."
..he would hate to miss out on whatever food Jack was going to bring him.
"I can't help but be curious about whether or not your fur's absorbed your.. Hopeful Nature. It might be something of a boon for Jack."
"There is quite literally a species of earth rabbit you could turn to for ruddy rabbit fur. I - I don't even wanna know why Jack would actually want a sweater of mah fur."
Or what on earth sort of deal Jack & Pitch had going that required his fur specifically. Go sheer a ruddy earth rabbit. Pooka don't give fur for nothin' - and Ah'm most certainly NOT giving it ta be made into a gift for JACK."
"Well yes, but- hear me out. I know how this seems, but Jack and I -and this is a recent development, trust me- but we reason your fur in particular might have certain properties that might be.." This was getting a bit.. much. He sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Listen. Jack is anxious. I would know- I can taste it. But if your fur has any residual Hope left over in it, it may.. soothe him. And he promised to bring me good food in return, so."
Pitch didn't jump so much as arch, taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Easter Bunny, wobbling backwards a little before correcting himself to make it look like he'd stumbled more than nearly fallen over.
Petting down his robe to soothe his nerves, he cleared his throat a little, before gesturing to a large, glass jar of frothy brown liquid.
"Ahem. As I said, nothing so malicious as ill intent. While we both agree that I am.. prone, to my scheming, nothing as such, this time. I'll be forward with you. I want your fur."
"My... fur." Every line of the Pooka's body is stiff, ears stand rigidly tall as he glares at Pitch with pure astonishment. He is frozen for a breath of a moment before a nose twitches and Bunnymund gives his whole body a large physical shake of distaste.
"Ah'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt as there is no way you could know the implications of what you just asked me. But the simple answer to your question is NO."
"I will.. admit that I do not know what I've asked you, certainly. But I do swear on my Nature that the question is not.. insidious. It was more a question on account of wanting to make yarn out of your fur. Jack has asked for a sweater, and we have something of a deal, if I can make it."
..he would hate to miss out on whatever food Jack was going to bring him.
"I can't help but be curious about whether or not your fur's absorbed your.. Hopeful Nature. It might be something of a boon for Jack."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
@manicpitchy HAS MADE A VERY GOOD SUGGESTION OF SOOT SPRITE BOY. I went a little ham
SCREAMS IS THAT A BIT OF CINDER OF THE EDGE OF HIS STAFF
"I didn't think he could get shorter. ..I can be wrong, sometimes."
ball-jointed doll by 山丘里的羊 on xiaohongshu.
"Then why would I put much thought into what you do, you child's play-mat colored nightmare of a woman," he sighed, exasperated.
And yes, alright, he conceded- of course she would be able to find specific memories through a tooth- it was her particular expertise in the way he could tease and tickle a fear out of someone like a particularly eager hound searching for a treat under the floorboards.
He'd be damned if he conceded such out loud.
"Yes, of course, I could tell you I was afraid of the dark, or forgetting, or Orcas, and you'd be hard pressed to find the truth in whichever one."
Yellowed eyes seemed to go particularly bright at the implication, however, that he might not know himself that well.
"My dear," he murmured, tone going silken, "why, the only way to spread fear, to understand it, is to experience it first hand. Every fear you can think of, and all the ones you can't- every fear that subsequently, mankind has ever come up with due to a new invention of something, oh, I subject myself to it. If you believe nothing else, believe in my method."
The laugh that rolled out of him was akin to a rattle. "You wouldn't trust a scientist who didn't know how to break down the cure they'd made, would you? So too, every fear for me. They're all.. attached to something else. It's quite fascinating."
"You must give my work some thought. In your last big hurrah, you deemed it important enough to target me first." And that attempt at name calling? She was getting under his skin. Mm, satisfying.
Prattle. That's all it was. And if that wasn't a show of a losing hand, she didn't know what was. In fact, it was her turn to take a slow half circle around him. "I see. All fears connect to something. Like strings on a harp or loom. And you go along for the ride, searching out all the little details. A fine science indeed. Especially ignoring the ones that connect back to you. The ones that reach past the darkness and into whatever heart is left in your decrepit body."
"The idea of ensuring one's potentially happy memories were locked off to them was honestly more of the entire theme of the situation? Remove Hope, remove Wonder, get rid of good Dreams, etcetera. You came first because I went 'eeny meanie miney mo.' ..your over-inflated ego is noted, though, I wondered why you looked so.. bloated. Or is it that time of year for birds?"
"Decrepit?" He twisted to look at himself in a way that definitely implied a lack of spine- quite literally, he seemed to snap around without moving his legs.
"Well thank you, it can be a bit difficult to upkeep this old thing, I suppose, I'm glad to know I've still got it." Twisting back around to face her, he was left turning in an effort to keep her in sight, now. But he was growing agitated, if the arch of his outline around his shoulder meant anything.
"You know, I heard some interesting news, not too long ago. Something about a.. hm. What was it? There was a village and a monkey.. you know, the last time I heard anything about a monkey- oh, but it couldn't be, he died. ...didn't he?"
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"I know what this looks like," the shade calls at what he believed to be an.. entrance to the Warren. Felt like it. Eugh. "But I must proclaim an entirely innocent purpose for coming. ..this time."
Missed. But he was rather close. His message did not go unheard however as the earth shifted, almost swirling in a tight circle that disappeared deep into a void within the crust. Eventually, Bunnymund bound out from the tunnel landing neatly on his feet where he regarded the shade with a pointed look of suspicion, arms tightly crossed over his chest. Beside him the tunnel vanished with a swirl of shifting soil. "Out with it then."
Pitch didn't jump so much as arch, taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Easter Bunny, wobbling backwards a little before correcting himself to make it look like he'd stumbled more than nearly fallen over.
Petting down his robe to soothe his nerves, he cleared his throat a little, before gesturing to a large, glass jar of frothy brown liquid.
"Ahem. As I said, nothing so malicious as ill intent. While we both agree that I am.. prone, to my scheming, nothing as such, this time. I'll be forward with you. I want your fur."
brightchill "...if you do, I want dibs on a comfy sweater."
"You want me to make you a cozy sweater out of the Easter Bunny's fur?"
"What do I get out of it, for the risk?"
"I will continue bringing you food so you don't have to leave your comfy, horse-proof shelter."
"..."
"Deal."
brightchill "...if you do, I want dibs on a comfy sweater."
"You want me to make you a cozy sweater out of the Easter Bunny's fur?"
"What do I get out of it, for the risk?"
"You know, humans make yarn out of rabbit fur. I wonder if Bunnymund..." Hm.
"There is an unfortunate truth to myself and the Guardians."
He was talking to himself, now, for the sake of hearing himself talk, perhaps. Or for the sake of hearing a voice.
"They dislike me. The feeling is.. I think it's mutual, at this point? But I have the ability to.. recognize their necessity." Re: I am not strong enough to do anything about them, right now.
"In this moment, the balance is.. precarious. The less Fear there is, the more recklessness becomes abundant. But.. if you remove Hope and Wonder and Dreams and Joy.." He pondered at this for a moment. The concept of a world entirely run on Fear was relatively.. short sighted. Desperate.
He'd almost won, too, which is hilarious to think about, but what about the after? What would have happened? It wouldn't have gone back to the Dark Ages, now that he thought about it- it couldn't of, they'd moved too far past it.
..they'd of torn each other apart, most likely. It would've been a buffet, for a while.
And then humanity would've sunken into madness.
The retrospection is almost sobering. "I suppose it's a good thing I didn't immediately kill them." That didn't mean he'd stop fighting them. He'd just have to be a little more careful with trickling in a little of each, next time.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"You don't seem to understand what I do, either," he pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at her as he stepped around her in a half circle, like a cat studying something it was deciding whether or not to pounce on.
Ah- that's right, she had one of his teeth. There was a moment, the outline on his side crumpling inward, as though losing its shape before straightening out, again.
"I'm sure- or you might find out what brings me joy, instead. I'm sure you'd be less enthused with the latter, but it might surprise you to know what I enjoy, Toothiana," he murmured back, yellow eyes narrowing in her general direction. "Like.. chocolate covered coffee beans, for instance. But if you want to know what I'm afraid of.."
He bent, not like someone bending over, but like a mimicry of such, the bending of something being pulled down, like a tree branch with a rope attached to it being drug down.
And then he smiled. It was a smile, that, quite literally, reached his eyes, curling to reveal.. more teeth.
"You could try asking me. I might even be.. forthcoming."
"I never claimed nor desired to know all the malicious things you get up to." Her eye never strayed from him, even as he moved around her in a show of predatory danger.
"You think I do not know how to find specific memories? Quaint." A hard click on the T. "I may not be burdened with your age, but I have had enough practice in my own field of expertise to do it well."
She scoffed at the offer. The toothy grin he revealed not the sort of thing to deter her. He truly knew so little of her. Again, reassuring. "Oh, Pitch. Darling. I trust your word as far as one might throw a feather. Besides, I doubt you even truly know. You're not the type to look too closely at yourself. Am I wrong?"
"Then why would I put much thought into what you do, you child's play-mat colored nightmare of a woman," he sighed, exasperated.
And yes, alright, he conceded- of course she would be able to find specific memories through a tooth- it was her particular expertise in the way he could tease and tickle a fear out of someone like a particularly eager hound searching for a treat under the floorboards.
He'd be damned if he conceded such out loud.
"Yes, of course, I could tell you I was afraid of the dark, or forgetting, or Orcas, and you'd be hard pressed to find the truth in whichever one."
Yellowed eyes seemed to go particularly bright at the implication, however, that he might not know himself that well.
"My dear," he murmured, tone going silken, "why, the only way to spread fear, to understand it, is to experience it first hand. Every fear you can think of, and all the ones you can't- every fear that subsequently, mankind has ever come up with due to a new invention of something, oh, I subject myself to it. If you believe nothing else, believe in my method."
The laugh that rolled out of him was akin to a rattle. "You wouldn't trust a scientist who didn't know how to break down the cure they'd made, would you? So too, every fear for me. They're all.. attached to something else. It's quite fascinating."
"How curious- a Nightlight, sulking and pouting? ..is Katherine about, then, did she tell you no bedtime stories? Hm? Or were you denied a snack."
Bright lights cast deep shadows. Or something.
Nightlight shuffles around on his perch to regard Pitch with narrowed, wary eyes, the slit of his pupil just barely visible. Katherine was not a name he liked to hear upon those gray-stained lips.
But she is her own person, as much as she is his Katherine, and she has her own obligations to attend to. She can read to him at any time, considering he didn’t really sleep.
After a moment, the moonbug cocks his head as if to invite Pitch to sit on the stump with him. There’s enough space for two skinny immortals to share.
There is something intimately hilarious about this, he thought, as he slunk his way up to tentatively seat himself next to the one who had burrowed himself into Pitch's heart and effectively put him out of commission. Mutual destruction, perhaps.
Or just the hilarity of sitting next to Nightlight, being offered a seat next to him, now that Pitch was.. de=fanged, to an extent.
The lioness adopting the antelope babe, as it were.
He was thin enough, and Nightlight was certainly gawky enough that neither of them took up a terrible amount of space. ..or perhaps the tree stump was just large enough that it didn't matter. "It's cold," he remarked, in lieu of any particular grasping conversation.
