#thief of joy

[sonandheirofnothinginparticular]

[akaiokamivt]

Here's my latest poem called 'Thief's Poison'. It touches upon the topic of anxiety, which is something that I, as well as many others, have experienced. By sharing this poem, I want to remind you that you are not alone in this fight.

[wearevillaneve]

This only makes Season Four hurt more.

Eve’s Obsession [x]

[xipe-slayground]

Threads like this are sad because a discussion about Patriot used to bring about such enthusiasm about Kurtwood Smith as Leslie Claret and now they don't even want to speak about him by name. I feel like joy has been sucked from the universe. I really miss when we millennials all loved him and nearly had a collective crush on him.

[eggsdoodz]

🩷🌷🐑⭐️🎀

[lowpolybread]

You are frightened. It’s all right, Percy. Your father sent me to tell you, it’s all right. Just breathe. Your father is here. He’s always been here. It is so hard for him to stand back. To see you struggle. It is so hard for us all. But he’s here. And he’s so very proud. Trust him. Trust yourself. Just… breathe.

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS 1x04: I Plunge to My Death

[fandomnerd9602]

Felicia slinks up to Y/N at a party…

Felicia: you here for work or to play?

Y/N: I could ask you the same question

Felicia: dance with me

Y/N takes Felicia out to the dance floor…

Felicia: I-I’m sorry about last night. I should’ve stayed.

Y/N: how about tonight? You can stay then

Felicia: hmm…I just might. (Whispers) I have to rob Fisk first but after that…I’m all yours

[westywallowing]

havent watched the show yet so instead have a flashback to one of my favorite scenes in TLT musical. bless u chris mccarrell

[turtlecleric]

Bay!Mikey x reader, soulmate au - ink on your skin is mirrored on theirs until it’s wiped off

Cws: implied/referenced self-harm

-

You’d heard about the butterfly project online somewhere. It had felt silly, at first, to think they might actually help, but… you were getting a little bit desperate. So you’d bought some markers. Locked your door. Pulled the fabric of your shorts down so they’d bunch up close to your hips. And started drawing.

Now that you’re done, you’re surprised to find that you really, really like them. You’ve drawn them tiny, with little rounded wings and splashes of your favorite colors. They actually make you smile, and it’s been a long time since you’ve been able to do that while looking at your legs. 

You wonder if he’ll ask you about them. He often sends little messages your way, written on your forearm. Maybe if you stare at your arm long enough, you’ll see his messy scrawl appear. Something like, “Oh, so you like butterflies? My favorite kind are the ones you give me!”

God. You can’t believe you miss a person you haven’t even met yet. 

For the millionth time, you wonder what he looks like. What he sounds like. It doesn’t really matter, since you already know the things that do matter. You know that he’s kind. And funny. And excited to meet you one day.

…So why hasn’t he? You’re not sure what he’s waiting for. You’ve asked him multiple times to meet up, but there’s always something that comes up. 

Maybe… maybe it’s you. Maybe he can tell that you’re… but no, that doesn't make sense. He really does seem like he likes talking to you. Like he wants to meet you one day. It’s only been a few months since your soul ink started to appear, and some soulmates go years before they meet up for the first time.

You hope you don’t have to wait that long. 

Sighing, you brush a thumb along the wings of one of the butterflies. It had seemed so pretty at first, but now… you can’t help but stare at the lines visible beneath the ink.

You try to focus back on the butterflies.

You’d been proud of them. Thought they were cute. Thought that maybe he might find them cute, too. But the longer you stare, the more you wonder if he might not find them cute. What if he’s… annoyed. That you drew all over yourself without consulting him first. He has to deal with this, too, after all. They’re in an easy to hide place, but still. Maybe you should have asked his permission. Maybe you should have been more considerate of the possibility that he might not want to have his thighs covered in little butterflies. The project isn’t a one night deal, either. You have to keep drawing them back on, you can’t let the butterflies fade until the urges fade. It’s been years at this point - did you really think this was a good idea? Trying this method when you have your soulmate to think about? What if he hates them? What if he hates people who might need something like this? What if he knows about the butterfly project, and seeing this is the last straw, and he never speaks to you ag-

You inhale sharply at the sight of blank ink blooming in one of the empty spaces on your thigh. Mesmerized, you watch as the ink curls and glides, slowly but surely, into a picture.

A flower. 

Another one appears in the empty space between two other butterflies. Your hand raises to cover your mouth as you watch more and more appear. It’s calming, watching them swirl into existence. Some are tiny, delicate things. Others are large enough for little details. Shadows and textures, leaves and stems and… wow. 

You hadn’t realized he was an artist. There’s no way he isn’t, with how breathtaking these flowers are. And he’d just… he’d just done it, like it was nothing. Turned your skin into a work of art in less than 15 minutes. Somehow taken your pathetic little butterflies and woven them into a complete piece that you could stare at for hours and not get bored. 

It’s incredible.

You feel like you should… say something. You grab a marker and hesitate, unsure, before deciding on just being honest with him.

They’re beautiful!

It takes only a moment before you see him start to write back. It’s a little funny, seeing his chicken scratch and then glancing over to the beautiful pieces of art that he’s turned your legs into. Just another thing about him that makes you smile. But when you see his response, your smile drops.

Beautiful flowers for my beautiful girl

You’re not sure why that makes you start to cry. He’s called you beautiful before. Not that he could possibly mean it - you haven’t met yet, you haven’t even exchanged last names or numbers or anything, but… something about it feels… genuine. Genuine in a way that it really shouldn’t be. How could he mean that when he has no clue what you look like? Surely he wouldn’t say that if he did know, I mean, look at you.

But. Somehow. Somehow. You know he means it. 

You grab a wipe from your bedside table, clearing your first message from your arm. His words disappear, as well, and part of you mourns the physical proof of those words, but then he starts to- oh my god. He’s writing down a phone number. It’s- it’s got to be his phone number, right? What else could it be? You don’t have long to wonder, because then you see another message appear. 

If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. Don’t kill the butterflies, okay?

Don’t kill the butterflies. He knows. He knows. And he still- he still wants to talk to you. 

You shouldn’t call him right now. You’re an emotional mess. It’s late, too, and you have no idea if he has to be up early tomorrow. But. But you- he finally gave you- and you just- you just-

Your hands shake as you dial the number. How could you not call him now? How could you possibly wait another second to finally hear his voice? How could you-

“Hey sunshine,” he says - and, oh. His voice. His voice makes you smile so hard your cheeks start to hurt. Sunshine, he’d called you. Fitting, you think, since it suddenly feels like you’ve swallowed the sun and rays are surely shining through the spaces between your ribs. “I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, sniffling and tracing one of the bigger flowers with a finger. “Me too.”

-

tag list: @luckycharms1701 @yorshie @thejudiciousneurotic @khayalli @justalotoffanfiction @thelaundrybitch @mxalmighty @shakeyourtrees

[unhappy-sometimes]

ngl i kinda dread seeing those “this was my art in 2020 and this is my art now” post because i’m looking back at my art in 2020 and i’ve definitely gotten worse :/

it is not a good feeling.

[sugarpsalms]

y'all know those very special book scenes that when you read them for the first time you had to like, put the book down and turn the lights off and have a cigarette or something. Me with that scene from King of Attolia where Gen gives Relius a kiss

[gurugirl]

THAT'S WHAT YOU GIVE US? A GHOST HARRY? IT'S BEEN WEEKS AND NOTHING AND NOW? A GHOST?

what about mcc or bfd or arrangement? yougive us ghost harry every year. it'd be fun to see something else. i don't like ghost stuff it's too creepy. nothx

I'm sitting here wondering why I even bother on Tumblr anymore. Seriously. Some of the asks I get are just so deflating and so strange to me (like this one).

The Mushroomer took me a long time to put together for you guys. I worked hard on it and it made me smile and I hoped it would make you guys smile too.

I don't know what to tell you, anon. I try my best. I hope someone else gives you the kind of content you're looking for but whatever you do, please don't go sending things like this to writers who share their work with you for free.

[mothlingmeg]

I existed long before i met you. I lived before I knew you. I loved things before we ever spoke for the first time. Your perception of me is small and incomplete. I do not owe it to you to change myself or stay in one place forever. I will take up space.

[starnervefan]

Some people have asked me how Detective Fear and Thief Joy's first meeting would go, so here goes...

----

Detective Fear AU: Fear and the Thief

(about 2,000~ words)

His lungs were burning by the time he made it up the stairs. He huffed and puffed, leaning against the guard rail to steady himself. As he caught his breath, his lips curled into a smug smile. The thief had nowhere to run now. She was cornered.

He burst through the door and onto the roof, training his revolver on the shadowy figure. "All right!" he called out. "Put your h…ha…."

The words died in his throat as the thief pulled back her hood, exposing glowing, golden skin and a crop of short, shimmery blue hair. She wiped the back of her gloved hand across her forehead and checked her belt. Only then did she turn her head in his direction, her blue eyes wide and startled. And what beautiful eyes, like great pools of sapphire, filled with an entire galaxy of stars…

Fear and the thief stared each other down for several long moments. No sound could be heard but the brisk September wind sighing between the skyscrapers, and the far-off sounds of traffic, many floors below. A siren wailed in the distance.

Fear slowly lowered his gun, almost involuntarily. Threatening this blue-eyed beauty with violence suddenly seemed a tad extreme. At a glance, she seemed so sweet and pure, her skin's glow casting an angel's halo around her exposed head and neck. Surely somebody this lovely couldn't possibly be bad?

In his line of work, he had come into contact with all manner of criminals. Even the women, beautiful though they may have been, had an air of hostility or cruelty to them. But Fear couldn't detect even the slightest hint of malice in the thief's face or posture. She warily fixed him with her wide, innocent eyes, clearly on guard for his next move. Perhaps he could talk her down? He cleared his throat and opened his mouth.

"I… I… um."

His tongue refused to cooperate, tripping over itself as he stammered incoherently. The thief furrowed her brows and cocked her head to one side, scrutinizing him thoughtfully. Fear felt his face begin to heat up beneath her appraising stare. Well, it would have been a good idea, if I could actually talk…

A slow smile crossed the thief's pixie-like face, her lids lowering. She ran a hand through her sapphire locks and struck a pose, resting a palm on her cocked hip. Fear suddenly felt exposed as she looked him up and down. "Well, hi there, Inspector Cutie," she purred.

Fear glanced behind him uncertainly while trying to keep one eye trained on the glowing beauty before him.

"Yeah, I'm talkin' to you, handsome." The thief sauntered toward him, flaring her hips with each step. She grasped him by the tie and slowly smoothed it down. Fear sucked in a breath, his spine tingling at her feather-like touch. "Tell me, what's your name?"

"I-it's… I… buh..." Fear could only stammer and sputter, the heat beneath his collar quickly becoming unbearable.

"'Fear', huh?" Even the simple way she said his name sent his head spinning.

He frowned suddenly, his focus snapping to attention. "Wait. H… how did you…?"

The thief held up Fear's police badge with a smug grin. "It's on this."

Fear gaped. He hadn't even noticed her swipe it from his coat pocket. "H-hey, g-give that back!" he squeaked, with as much authority as the crack in his voice allowed. He made a grab for it, but the thief giggled and held it out of reach, taking a few steps backward.

"Well, since I know your name, I'll tell you mine," she offered. "It's Joy. Master Thief Joy. My card." She produced a small piece of cardboard from seemingly nowhere and flashed him a glimpse of flowery text surrounded by sparkle and flower patterns.

"Um…" was about all he could think to say in response. Why does a thief need a business card? he wondered.

She thrust the card at him and he took it, perusing the text. You have been hoodwinked by Master Thief Joy! Have a stupendous day!

"That's my calling card," she explained, as she examined something in her hand. "Hey, is this your girlfriend? Oh, I'm so jealous - she's very pretty…"

"Huh?!" Fear's head snapped upright. Joy was now holding his wallet, going through his personal family photos. His face reddened in frustration. "G-give me that!" he demanded.

He made an impressive lunge toward her and this time, managed to knock the wallet out of her grasp. Coins tinkled as they bounced to the asphalt and papers flew everywhere. Fear desperately scrabbled to collect all his paper money before the chill breeze blew it away. When he stood, puffing and panting, Joy still held onto the photograph she'd been looking at. She held it up casually.

"Your girlfriend?" she prompted, as if nothing had happened and they were having a perfectly normal rooftop conversation.

"N-no, th-that's my mom," Fear grumbled, red in the face as he hastily stuffed his cash and belongings back into the cramped confines of his wallet. "And hand it over!"

To his surprise, Joy obliged. "You two look very close. That's so sweet!" she cooed, clasping her hands together.

Fear drew back from her, squinting. "This is… this is a trick, isn't it? Y-you're just… t-trying to c-confuse me, or… or something."

"Is it working?" she asked, batting her lashes disarmingly.

Fear frowned at her. She'd just openly admitted to… whatever it was she was doing. He should be angry, but the twisting sensations in his stomach and the giddy, lightheaded dizziness that had started the moment he'd seen her face had him thoroughly distracted as he fought to keep a clear head.

His heart skipped a beat as he suddenly realized that his hands were empty. He patted himself down and looked around absent-mindedly. While he'd been fumbling around with his wallet, where had he put…?

With an awful premonition, he slowly turned his head to the thief, who, sure enough, held something black and shiny in her sticky fingers, turning it over and examining it thoughtfully.

His heart stopped. He broke out in a cold sweat as his life flashed before his eyes. He hadn't even noticed her swipe his revolver. He was a goner now for sure! He put his hands up and prepared to plead for his life…

… but instead of shooting him, she grasped it by the muzzle and handed it back to him, grip first. His hands shook with adrenaline as he buried it safely in its holster. Joy inclined her head to the gun.

"Ya know, those things are awful dangerous. Somebody could get hurt," she smiled innocently.

Fear took deep breaths to try and calm himself, almost hyperventilating. "N-n-nobody has to get hurt," he heard himself saying. He tried to reason with the thief: "L-listen, uh, w-would you maybe consider returning that diamond?" He pointed shakily at the pouch on her belt, where something glinted from within.

"Oh, this?" Joy looked down as if noticing the pouch for the first time. "Sorry, no can do."

"Then, uh…" He coughed apologetically. "I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

"As entertaining as that sounds, no." She smirked at him incredulously. "Are you saying you'd actually let me go if I gave it back?"

"Uh, well, I don't… actually have the authority to do that… I mean, we have a laundry list of your offenses… but I could talk to people, explain the situation," he offered.

Joy looked at him oddly for a moment, before a wide grin slowly spread across her face. She placed her hands on her hips. "Okay, 'fess up, Inspector. Why are you being so nice to me? Do you like me or something?" she teased.

"H…huh?" Fear found himself beginning to blush once more. "I… b-but I'm just… t-trying to do my job…"

"None of you police-types have ever actually given me a choice in the matter before," Joy mused. "It's always, 'You're coming with me' or 'Come out with your hands up'. But you…" Her eyes lit up, practically sparkling with delight. "Here you are, treating me like an actual person! You must be the sweetest detective I've ever met."

Fear couldn't help it. His face split into a silly grin before he could stop it. He quickly slapped his hand against his face and turned to try and hide how flustered he was, but his palm couldn't stop the spout of goofy giggling that escaped his lungs.

Joy laughed lightly in return. "Oh, you're a cute one, Mr. Detective. I think I'll keep my eye on you."

Fear fidgeted, wringing his tie in his hands and trying to fight down his bashful grin. "S-so… um… any chance of you… uh… cooperating with me? I-I'll m-make sure they treat you well…"

Joy suddenly seemed distracted, glancing skyward. "Oh, finally!" she burst out, her face lighting up in a relieved smile.

For the first time, Fear took notice of the massive shadow suddenly falling across the roof. He whirled, looking up so fast his head spun.

A dirigible hovered over them, engines whirring loudly. The wind whipped fiercely around them, prompting Fear to hold tight to his hat. He could just make out a length of rope dangling from a window of the gondola.

"Well, it's been fun, Inspector, but I gotta go," Joy declared, giving him one last playful smile. With her cloak streaming behind her like a banner, she hopped effortlessly onto the parapet and grabbed the rope, giving it two sharp tugs.

It took him a moment, but slowly his wits returned. "W-wait!" Fear cried out, belatedly giving chase. "Y-you can't leave now! I-I need that diamond!" He came to an abrupt halt as he slammed against the parapet, making a desperate grab for Joy's belt as she dangled freely from the edge of the building. She twisted easily out of his reach.

"Let's do this again sometime," she purred, swinging back around so she could stroke his chin with a single glowing fingertip. "And oh, don't look so glum. I'm sure we'll see each other again very soon!"

As the airship ponderously turned and floated away into the heavens, Joy clung to the rope. He thought he saw her blow him a kiss before she turned away. He watched her longingly, hardly able to breathe.

He watched until the airship was a mere speck on the horizon, then he watched some more. Slowly he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Geez. What… what just happened…? He drew out Joy's calling card from his coat pocket, turning it over in his hand. You have been hoodwinked by Master Thief Joy! it read. "I'll say," he muttered to himself.

The door to the rooftop burst open with a bang. Fear jumped and whirled around, fully expecting to find trouble, but it was only Anger.

Anger's thick chest heaved as he stood in the doorway, glaring at Fear. "Well?" he panted. "Where is she?"

"She…" Fear stuffed the calling card hastily back into his coat pocket. "Sh-she… uh, she left."

"She's gone?" Anger demanded, dumbfounded. "You let her escape? How did she escape?!" He looked around, his scowl darkening dangerously. "There's nowhere to run! You had her right where you wanted her!" he yelled, throwing his arms wide. Fear shrugged helplessly with a nervous giggle.

"Seriously, how did you let her slip away?" Anger growled, stomping over to the edge of the roof.

Fear shrank away from him, intimidated. "Well, see, there was this airship…" he began uncertainly. "A-and it just kind of… swooped down out of nowhere, and then… she was gone."

"An airship?" Anger repeated incredulously. He narrowed his eyes and glanced to the sky. He clenched his teeth, the air above his head beginning to steam. "I don't see any airship."

"W-well, it was-- it was right there…" Fear stammered, pointing. "A-and a rope came down, and Miss Joy-- th-the thief grabbed onto the rope and sailed away."

Anger wiped his palm down his face in exasperation, muttering and grumbling. He took a deep breath, trying his level best to be patient. "Can I get a description of this magical, mythical airship?" Fear thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Did you happen to see who was driving the thing?" Anger prodded. Fear shook his head again, his face burning with humiliation.

"Do you know anything useful at all?!" Anger burst out, taking off his hat and throwing it to the ground, frustrated. He always did this when he got angry, partly because it just plain felt good, but mostly because whenever he lost his temper, the top of his head would burst into flames. Fear had lost count of all the hats Anger had burned to a crisp because he wasn't fast enough to fling them to the ground.

Fear tried desperately to think back to just a few minutes earlier, but he drew a blank. All he could see in his mind's eye was Joy: her face, the stars in her eyes, her teasing smile and long, supple legs…

"Fear? Earth to Fear?!"

Anger's voice snapped him out of his reverie. He became aware that his partner had grabbed him by the arms and was shaking him roughly.

Fear did his best to come up with an explanation, but he could only sigh heavily, his back drooping in defeat. "I… I'm sorry. I… I guess I just wasn't… fast enough."

"Our client isn't gonna like this," Anger rumbled, shooting Fear a dark look. "You'd best have a better explanation ready for when we get back to headquarters empty-handed." Fear winced with dread, knowing that Anger was right.

As he followed Anger down the stairs and out onto the busy street, Fear buried his hands deep in his pockets and scowled at nothing. He felt so foolish. Miss Joy had just been playing with him, stalling for time until her buddies showed up. Why, she was probably laughing at him right now, telling whoever was on the airship with her all about it. Just thinking about it made his neck burn with embarrassment.

And yet…

He gazed dreamily up at the clouds across the moon, the same bright moon that had overlooked him and Joy on the rooftop. There, beneath that same moon, under those very stars and wispy clouds, he had felt something. Something that he couldn't see or explain. Something about Miss Joy had struck a chord deep within him, and he knew that he would never be able to forget her.

[jaronofthebored]

people who hate kay faraday mystify me because I could never hate a character who has this sprite