preemptively saying thank you to all of the incredibly smart sexy bitches who are cracking their knuckles and getting ready to write fix it fics better than anyone in the writers room could dream of
The Gaffney Ledger, South Carolina, July 21, 1928
me, reading about women in Ancient Greece who could devote their entire lives to being a virgin priestess of hallucinogenic honey: god I wish that was me
DS9 showrunners to Garak
bitches be like "Zuko is such a bad boy" like they never watched the "Hello, Zuko here!" scene. The only bad that boy is, is at talking to people
The terror you had felt when you’d accidentally gotten caught in the middle of a battle between a hero and villain, had been nothing compared to the terror you’d felt when you had woken up in the hospital to a world completely void of light.
Finding out that the damage had scarred you so badly, that the loss of vision would be permanent, had completely crushed you.
With the birth of the age of heroes and villains, the government had ended up setting in place a new system to support civilians who were caught in the crossfire. As an artist with no other income, and no one to help support you, you’d been certain that you were destined to rely entirely on that funding for the rest of your life, or until you could find another way to care for yourself, however unlikely it may be.
The agency the hero worked for, had offered some compensation for your injury and ended up paying all of your hospital fees, but in the grand scheme of things, it still left you living a rather meagre life.
Or at least that’s how it would have been, had the gifts not started showing up.
The first time there had been a delivery of fresh groceries, you’d been completely baffled, but grateful. But the second time, you’d been a little more hesitant, as, despite having no real close friends or family who would know your tastes, each delivery seemed to have been perfectly catered to them.
It was more than a little unsettling, and soon enough it started to get even more bizarre and worrisome.
The moment you needed something replaced, a replacement would be delivered. If something broke, a handyman would show up to fix it before you could call them. Even when it came time to pay bills, you found them already paid, and your bank account completely untouched.
It was unnerving, but slowly and surely, you started to get use to it and appreciate it.
When someone had knocked on your door early one morning, you hadn’t thought much of it when you’d answered, having gotten use to random deliveries. A small smile slipped onto your lips when you caught the scent of fresh flowers, another thing you’d been receiving ever since you were hospitalised, and had slowly come to adore.
What you hadn’t been expecting, was to hear a very very familiar voice, when the person finally spoke. The voice you’d heard mere moments before you’d passed out from the pain of the injury that had permanently blinded you for life.
Nor had you expected them to sound so utterly filled with remorse.
steven universe lockscreens