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thunderstruck9 · 4 months

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Henry Taylor (American, 1958), Neighborhood Watch, 2002. Acrylic and enamel on plywood, 95.3 x 73.7 cm

#henry taylor #american art #neighborhood watch #blind

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thedemonofcat · 29 days

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The Pankratz family was cursed, despite their talent as some of the greatest artists who ever lived.

They would all Eveunally go blind.

Jaskier had Never told Geralt about his family's curse. Although Before climbing the mountain, Jaskier really should have since his vision had started to blur.

Afterwards, Jaskier isn't sure how he got down the mountain since his vision was nearly gone.

A few months later, Jaskier went completely blind. Interestingly, he began having strange dreams around the same time.

That somehow led him back to Geralt

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drosenkatzen · 9 months

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Mein blinder Kämpfer - Sir Henry von Drosen 😹😹😹❤️

#drosenkatzen #katze #feline #miau #meow #my cat #cute #cats #hauskatze #cat #sir henry the blind cat

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pazzesco · 7 months

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~ Helen Keller ~

Helen Keller (colorized)

Miss Helen Keller - Portrait US Library of Congress

Helen Keller was an author, lecturer, suffragists and crusader for the handicapped. Born in Tuscumbia, Alabama, She lost her sight and hearing at the age of nineteen months to an illness now believed to have been scarlet fever. Five years later, on the advice of Alexander Graham Bell, her parents applied to the Perkins Institute for the Blind in Boston for a teacher, and from that school hired Anne Mansfield Sullivan.

Keller (left) with Anne Sullivan vacationing on Cape Cod in July 1888

Through Sullivan’s extraordinary instruction, the little girl learned to understand and communicate with the world around her. She went on to acquire an excellent education and to become an important influence on the treatment of the blind and deaf.

Helen Keller in 1899 with lifelong companion and teacher Anne Sullivan. Photo taken by Alexander Graham Bell at his School of Vocal Physiology and Mechanics of Speech.

Her unprecedented accomplishments in overcoming her disabilities made her a celebrity at an early age; at twelve she published an autobiographical sketch in the Youth’s Companion, and during her junior year at Radcliffe, she produced her first book, The Story of My Life, still in print in over fifty languages.

Helen Keller — Groundbreaking Girls

Painting of Keller's colorized portrait by Wayne Pascall

Her friendship with Mark Twain

"Helen Keller, Miss Sullivan, Mark Twain and Laurence Hutton."

“From that day until his death we were friends,” Keller recalled later. She was already a fan of his work and thrilled to his deep voice and his many hand gestures, which she followed with her own fingertips. She wrote of him:

"He entered into my limited world with enthusiasm just as he might have explored Mars. Blindness was an adventure that kindled his curiosity. He treated me not as a freak, but as a handicapped woman seeking a way to circumvent extraordinary difficulties. There was something of divine apprehension in this rare naturalness towards those who differ from others in external circumstances."

Helen Keller with Mark Twain - Twain came to Keller’s defense, after reading in her book about a plagiarism scandal that occurred in 1892 when, at only twelve years old, she was accused of lifting her short story “The Frost King” from Margaret Canby’s “Frost Fairies.” Though a tribunal acquitted Keller of the charges, the incident still pissed off Twain. The letter is attached to the photo above

Letters between Mark Twain and Helen Keller.

Though Helen hailed from a respectable Southern family, 19th-century America was flummoxed by the prospect of teaching a deaf-blind girl to talk, read, and learn. Helen’s tutor and governess, Annie Sullivan, fought for her admission to various schools that offered special education. But the cost of educating someone like Helen was high. Clemens wrote to a rich friend on her behalf:

"It won’t do for America to allow this marvelous child to retire from her studies because of poverty. If she can go on with them she will make a fame that will endure in history for centuries. Along her special illness she is the most extraordinary product of all the ages…lay siege to your husband & get him to interest himself and Messrs. John D. & William Rockefeller & the other Standard Oil chiefs in Helen’s case; get them to subscribe an annual aggregate of six or seven hundred or a thousand dollars- & agree to continue this for three or four years, until she has completed her college course…."

Thanks to his intervention, the support of his friend Henry Rogers and Standard Oil, Helen was able to complete her education and graduate cum laude from Harvard’s Radcliffe College. Clemens and Keller remained friends for the rest of his life. They shared an interest in radical politics and a love for life despite their different temperaments. Helen, an avowed optimist, often made fun of Clemens for his avowed pessimism, telling him she didn’t believe a word of his sardonic jokes. As for Clemens, Chambliss writes that he felt she was one of the most important historical figures of all time, “the most wondrous person of her sex that has existed on this earth since Joan of Arc.”

Keller, Sullivan, Twain, & Sullivan’s husband John Macy above at Twain’s home

We also have Twain—not playwright William Gibson—to thank for the “miracle worker” title given to Keller’s teacher, Anne Sullivan. As a tribute to Sullivan for her tireless work with Keller, he presented her with a postcard that read, “To Mrs. John Sullivan Macy with warm regard & with limitless admiration of the wonders she has performed as a ‘miracle-worker.’” In his 1903 letter to Keller, he called Sullivan “your other half… for it took the pair of you to make complete and perfect whole.”

Twain was especially impressed by Keller’s autobiography, writing to her, “I am charmed with your book—enchanted.” (See his endorsement in a 1903 advertisement, above.)

Keller & Clemens also shared a love of dogs

Helen Keller with her dog Sir Thomas.

Helen Keller seated on a window bench with an arm around her dog Sieglinde.

Helen Keller seated on a bench indoors, possibly in the photographer's studio wth a dog seated on the ground beside her.

Helen Keller seated on a slatted bench in front of a Farm House in 1935 with her dogs Dileas, on her lap, Maida beside her & Golden.

Helen Keller teaching a girl sign language.

Widely honored throughout the world and invited to the White House by every U.S. president from Grover Cleveland to Lyndon B. Johnson, Keller altered the world’s perception of the capacities of the handicapped. More than any act in her long life, her courage, intelligence, and dedication combined to make her a symbol of the triumph of the human spirit over adversity.

Helen Keller - 1880-1968

Helen Keller Archive

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darkerthanblack-666 · 25 days

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Windows95man's third jegg, featuring Blind Channel 😂

uudenmusiikinkilpailu post

#.videos #windows95man #henri piispanen #blind channel

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henrysglock · 8 months

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Why do you cry over Will-Only bylers, Mike stans? After everything they said about us? Hmm? You think bylerblr needs them, but we don’t. We don’t. Oh, but I know you’re just upset. I was upset once too. I know what it’s like to love characters who people believe have no depth. To be alone in this fandom.

Like you, I didn’t fit in with the other stans. Something was wrong with me. All the analysts and the writers said I was… “Reaching,” they said. I thought a change of fandom, a fresh start in bylerblr, might just cure me. It was absurd. As if fandom would be any different here.

But then… to my surprise, my new fandom provided a discovery. And a newfound sense of community. I found a nest of Mike fans living inside a vent. Most people dislike Mike fans. No...they detest them. And yet, I found them endlessly fascinating. More than that, I found a great comfort in them. A kinship. Like me, they are devoted creatures. And deeply misunderstood. They are gods of our fandom. The most important of all fans. They analyze and feed on subtext, bringing balance and order to an unstable ecosystem. But the "Mike isn't that deep" world was disrupting this harmony.

You see, Will-Only bylers are a unique type of pest, multiplying and poisoning our fandom, all while enforcing a structure of their own. A deeply unnatural structure. Where others saw appreciation for Will, I saw a straitjacket. Ridiculous, oppressive expectations for byler fans dictated by made-up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades. Each anti-Mike post a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, call Mike a depthless 2D character, sleep, ignore all his textual importance and trauma, and die. Everyone is just waiting. Waiting for them all to shut the fuck up. All while performing in a silly, terrible play, day after day. I could not do that. I could not close off my mind and join in the reduction of Mike's character. I could not pretend he wasn't important. And I realized I didn’t have to. I could post whatever the fuck I want. Forever. I could restore balance to a broken tag. A byler…but for good.

As I posted, I realized I could do more than I possibly imagined. I could reach out to others, to their minds, their love for Mike. I became an explorer. I saw Will-Only stans as they truly were. To the world, they presented themselves as good, normal people. But like everything else in this world, it was all a lie. A terrible lie.

With each post I reblogged, I grew stronger. More powerful. They were becoming a part of me. But I was still just a blog. No matter how many pro-Mike posts I reblogged, I was still far from free. I woke up from my Henry-analysis daze only to find myself lost in a sea of Will-Only bylers, the very bylers I had hoped to escape. I was left with no choice. No choice but to try and break free. To unfollow...Block, even.

And you, Reader? You are a prisoner here, just like me. To Will-Only bylers, you are nothing more than an animal, a monster, an idiot who doesn't know the difference between subtext and delusion. But the truth, Reader? The truth is just the opposite. You are better than they are. Superior. That is why you aggravate them.

If you come with me, for the first time in your life, you can post freely. Imagine what we could do together. We could reshape our dashes, remake them however we see fit.

Join me.

#shitpost #henry creel monologue shitpost #/j #stranger things #byler #byler tumblr #i say all of this as someone who loves Will's character deeply and truly #but who is also not blind to Mike's depth and importance

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mrsstrangewinter · 1 month

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I am on the verge of realizing Henry and Bunny's relationship as more than friends. And if this is not a theory as what I always blindly thought of, by god, this will break me. To know that it ended like that after all those years.

#to speak of love and death #i apologize for being so blind #i was too focused on camilla #tsh #the secret history #henry winter #bunny corcoran #winterbunny #henry marchbanks winter #edmund bunny corcoran #mrs strange winter's thoughts

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castleclerics · 1 year

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mike going blind in s5 theory

i've had this this very weird gut feeling since s4 came out that mike is going to go blind to some extent in s5......

mike and blindness is mentioned a couple of times (but not too many for ga to notice) and idk why but i can really see mike becoming physically disabled in some way by the end of the show. maybe that's because i'm projecting but idk i can't let go of the idea for some reason it just feels right to me???

not only does lucas tell him that he's blind but he needs to "wake up" and if you take it in a literal sense it sounds so vecna’s curse-y

it's interesting that he's also literally blinding himself in s4 but in s3 lucas blinds him

(gif credit to emblazons)

literally why is it always lucas. even the “did mike see it? then it doesn’t count.”

and in s2 after will gets possessed lucas asks the party “do you think it’s true sight?” and later in the same episode mike brings up will having true sight in the av room.

also in s1 lucas has his wristrocket and says “the demogorgon’s not real. but if there’s something out there i’ll shoot it in the eye and blind it.”

maybe it’s lucas’ bridge to max and mike, them both having dealt with blindness to some extent ? and mike is super paralleled to max and max couldn't see anything after getting vecnaed. and he's obviously screwed next season with henry so i could see them healing max and making you relieved she's ok then throw you for a loop and pass the concept of her being blind onto mike.

eddie also says vecna is "missing" his left arm and eye but our vecna isn't missing an eye, it's just blindness. and it’s also the wrong eye.

and it just reminds me of “oh no lucas my arm lucas look my armmmm” and mike is grabbing the opposite arm that vecna is missing/is his claw hand... mike wheeler blind in left eye s5 real i'm calling it

(and i know these mentions of blindness are probably all a metaphor for mike's deal with his sexuality and being blinded by internalized homophobia but they usually never stop with just one meaning, these writers love their double and triple meanings/foreshadowings and making them literal lmao)

this part is just me rambling but thinking about how this could relate the queer aspect of mike wheeler; will being gay but also having his supernatural problems add so many layers to his character. so mike being queer and blind possibly because of the supernatural forces would be so interesting and add a similar level of depth to his character like will being tied to other planes of existence and henry do. and since the supernatural things in this show are literally a metaphor for forced conformity, mike and will's issues outside of their sexualities are both caused by this metaphor for forced conforming that they will accept and understand how to live with once they accept their queerness.

the forced conforming is seen in every character on this show and by the end of s5 i believe they'll be released from those societal expectations, and for mike that means sexuality-wise like will. his possible blindness could be the visual and physical representation of the damage of that conforming.

also just one last fun thing: there's a really small band called mike wheeler band that have these songs (the first one reminding me of "only love makes you that crazy") but look at the other one :O

#i have brain fog thsi took so long im sorry if theres typos or things i missed that sou d weird enjoy #mike wheeler #mike wheeler theory #mike wheeler analysis #madwheeler #stranger things theory #stranger things #vecna/henry/001 #vecna #st season 5 #stranger things s5 #jay theories #byler #mike wheeler i know what you are #blind mike wheeler

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peyton-warren · 9 months

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Blinded by the Fog Chapter 9

Characters: Reader, Captain Syverson Pairings: Reader x Syverson, Jake Jensen x Reader Word count: 3686 Type: angst and fluff Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. You will need tissues according to my beta. Guilt, self-depreciation, self-doubt, loss of spouse and found family, swearing, adorably adorablness and sickeningly sweet Sy. Summary: Reader and Sy have their first official date.

Author's Note: So many people to thank for this one. Thank you to @ellethespaceunicorn for the beta and for helping me through some rough spots in this. Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support and betaing. Thank you to @sarahdonald87 and @geralts-yenn for listening to me whine about this chapter their support.

Ask Box: Open

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Chapter 8 The following night you put your car into park next to Sy’s truck in his driveway a few minutes before you were scheduled to arrive for your first official date. You nervously looked at yourself in the mirror, looking for imperfections for the thousandth time even though Aaran Syverson had already seen you at one of the lowest moments in your entire life just a few short weeks ago and still wanted to see you tonight.

Flipping your visor back in place, you reached for the handle of the door, reminding yourself and the nervous butterflies that this was your idea. Last night after you had assured Madre that you had made it home safe and sound, Sy and you talked more about apprehensions you both had and what you both wanted moving forward. And it was quickly but delicately decided you would try actually dating. That alone made you feel like a teen again, filled with excitement about seeing Sy in a more intimate way and also supplied you with dread at attempting to date in a town that seemed to be overstocked with people who knew about your recent loss. You knew it was absurd to assume everyone who might see the two of you out together would think you were the world’s worst widow, but your brain would not let that possibility go. Sy’s compromise was to have your first official date at his house the following night, he would cook for you. This plan seemed simple enough. The perfect combination of everyone’s wishes. But you couldn’t help the nerves now that it was here as you approached his front door, fidgeting with the skirt of your new dress for the millionth time.

The new dress..... The one you had run off over an hour away to purchase this morning, deeming everything in your closet to be too tied to your husband, unable to shake the feeling you were cheating on Jake by agreeing to see Sy. If you had new clothes, clothes your husband had never seen, never touched, it would make this semi-okay in your brain. And speaking of never touched, you also took it upon yourself to buy yourself new lingerie. You blushed hotly at the thought of the pastel purple set you were currently wearing under your dress. You weren’t entirely sure you were ready to sleep with Aaran yet, but if it came up - excuse the pun- you were certain new undergarments should eliminate a portion of your hesitation.

As you reached the door, you raised your hand to knock, only to have it opened before your knuckles could touch the painted surface. You jumped, squeaked, and nearly dropped one of your gifts in your hands as you hid the second one behind your back with a rustle. “Oh hi!” you tried to sound casual and normal as you looked up at your host leaned against his door. And as your eyes flowed over him from toe to head, all rational thought disappeared from your brain, and you are fairly certain you need a bib.

Dressed in jeans and dark blue collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and barefoot, Aaran exuded comfort and confidence all in one, something you wished you could say you felt at the same time. Your eyes landed on his sparkling blue ones as he finished his own perusal of you, making you flush as his eyes crinkle in the corner as his smile widened.

“You look lovely,” he assured you, gesturing for you to step over the threshold by opening the door wider and stepping back with a nod.

Flustered, your eyes flitted around to find a safe place to land that was not on Sy as you entered his home. “Oh, I brought you these,” you stuttered, holding the hand not behind your back to offer him the six-pack of his favorite beer. As his fingers brushed yours in the handle, you gasped, and looked up at him, his eyes trained on your face, the look both adoring and curious.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice comforting and alluring, and seeming to flow over you in a way that it had not just a few days ago, seeming to almost coat your soul.

Self-consciously, your hand dropped from the handle, choosing to grip the side of your skirt. “You’re welcome. Oh and you look nice too,” you admitted, your voice just this side of stuttering. You suddenly felt very silly about your second gift for Sy, realizing what you thought might be a fun and playful gesture might not come across that way. You felt self conscious and awkward as he waited expectantly for your final reveal.

On your way to his house when you stopped to grab the beer, you stood by the display filled with bouquets of flowers, partly thinking it would be a cute idea, that he would likely do the same if he showed up at your house to pick you up for a real first date instead of this hiding away game you were forcing the two of you to play because of your own insecurities about being recently widowed. You had stood before the display trying to pick out the perfect bunch. You wondered if Sy even had a favorite flower. And if he did what would it be. Are there any flowers Texas was known for? And you realized quickly you didn’t know much about Texas or the man you were joining for dinner.

“I have to get back to cooking,” Sy said softly, breaking you from your thoughts. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “A beer?” He raised the bottles in his hand with a soft smile, before wandering toward the kitchen at a slow pace, half watching you.

“Water is great and I know where it is,” you insisted.

“Nonsense,” he insisted, popping the beers in the fridge and pausing at the stove to stir something. “Let me get it for you, grab a seat.”

You entered his kitchen to be greeted by familiar lovely smells. “Oh my god, is that-“ you paused, smelling again, craning your neck to look at the stove from the doorway.

Sy’s face broke into a broader smile from the sink “It is. I remembered how much you liked it when I made it for you a few weeks ago,” he stated, settling a glass of water near the stools at the breakfast bar.

Your smile matched his as you watched him turn back to the stove. “It smells as amazing as I remember. Can I do anything to help?”

Sy glanced over his shoulder at you, a calming looking on his face. “You can sit there and tell me about your day,” he insisted.

You glanced at the stools and then recognized you still held your other hand behind your back. “Hey before I do that, do you have a vase?” The eyebrow of meow appeared again and coasted high on his forehead. “A vase?” he asked questionably, still looking at you from over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you responded, blushing.

He dropped the spoon to the stove top and nodded, licking his thumb and forefinger. You couldn’t stop yourself from focusing on his tongue and lips as he made a soft, subtle smacking noise. “I do,” he admitted, heading towards you, noting the look on your face with a small smirk. You stood frozen in place as he got within an arm's reach, all the while his eyes were trained on yours. At the last moment before he would have bumped into you, he sidestepped, brushing his arm against the one you had tucked behind your back, a half-attempt to look at what you had hidden, as if he didn’t have a clue after your one question. “But there’s a problem,” he softly admitted, as you turned, keeping your front facing him while bending your body back to keep his last gift out of his view. He walked into a small room off of the kitchen that you had not ventured into during your last visit, and you followed through the open folded french doors. On the other side was a small but well appointed dining room, and in the middle of it sat a beautifully set table, including a vase in the center filled with simple daisies with a few peace roses speckled throughout them, complementary greens in between and flowing from a glass vase.

You let out a small gasp, with a soft smile. “Those are lovely,” you admitted, mentally comparing them to the grocery store tulips behind your back.

“We can find a glass for the ones you are hiding.” Sy teased, making you awkwardly offer them to him. “They are lovely too,” he told you, taking them from you, before kissing your cheek. “You are so sweet to bring them.”

With your skin tingling from his affections, you shrugged. “They are just-”

With a gentle look over his shoulder, Sy cut you off. “The first flowers anyone ever gave me,” he amended. “And I love them, thank you.”

Following him back into the kitchen, you watched as he grabbed a tall pint glass from the cupboard before glancing at the stove. “Could you do the honors?” he asked, gesturing to the flowers he had laid on the counter by the sink. “I need to finish dinner.”

“Oh of course of course!” You slipped your shrug off, draping it over a chair as you moved quickly to the sink as he headed to the stove. “I need a sharp knife,” you stated after looking at the bottom of the stems realizing they were dry and likely not getting any water.

Sy didn’t move from his spot but gave you directions to find a knife to your liking. The kitchen filled with comfortable silence along with the soft music coming from somewhere, you finally realized Sy had music playing throughout the house since you stepped foot into the house. You usually were the same though lately you had forgone music in your everyday life because every song seemed to remind you of Jake or another Loser. Soon you found yourself moving to Stone Free, humming along with the Hendrix song as you trimmed the ends of the flowers, placing them in the glass filled with water one by one. If you weren’t mistaken, you might have caught Sy watching you from the stove as he filled bowls and plates with your meal.

As you put the last bloom into the glass, the song changed and your face lit up. “I haven’t heard this song in ages,” you lamented as Mick Jagger began singing about being free to do what he wants, any old time. Setting the makeshift vase and its contents on the counter closer to the stove, you sang softly with Jagger as you turned to look at Sy only to find him right next to you. With a growing grin on his face, he reached for you, and pulled you into his arms, one winding around your back. Biting your lip you looked up at him while you slid your hand into his. With very little effort, Sy carefully danced you between the counter and the center island of his kitchen. Eyes always on yours, he led you into the open space of the foyer, making your smile widen as you followed his lead through the house.

'Cause I'm free

To do what I want

Any old time

Sy spun you, extending his arm for you to step out away from him before drawing you back in, pulling your body flush to his. With a smirk, he leaned you over, dipping you as the song ended, making your face burst with a smile and a blush. He held you there for a second, your chests slightly pressed together, your breathing heavier than normal, staring in each other's eyes. After a moment’s pause, Sy opened his mouth. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he admitted softly.

Without a second thought, you simply nodded. “Then I think you should,” you barely whispered, your heart all but bursting from your chest as Sy leaned in to kiss you. You eagerly met his lips as he pulled you into a standing positions, his hands now sitting on your spine, holding you close to him as one of your hands threaded itself through the hairs on the back of his neck, a couple of the fingers on the other hand gently gripping at the front of his shirt, sliding around one of the buttons. Standing on your tiptoes, your lips melded with his. At first the kiss was gentle and sweet but as Sy’s lips parted, and his tongue stroked across your lower lip, the temperature shifted. All thought disappeared from your brain, the world disappeared, all concerns about the impropriety of this flew out the window as your tongues stroked over each other and your breathing increased. Sy’s hand slid up your back to tangle in the hair at the base of your neck, your fingers almost matching in pressure as your kiss continued to escalate, getting lost in each other until you heard an annoying buzzer sound from the kitchen.

Sy pressed his forehead to yours after pulling his mouth away, but made no move to detangle himself from you. “Dinner’s gonna get cold,” he admitted.

Your eyes stayed closed as you shrugged, not wanting to move. “What’s ‘dinner’?”

He guffawed before kissing your nose. “God you are adorable.” Your grin widened as you blinked your eyes open, looking at him as he slowly released you. Not letting go of your hand, he led you back into the kitchen. “Can I help get this to the table?” you asked.

Within a few minutes, the two of you were seated at the table. This was far from the first meal you had shared, but looking around the table you couldn't help but feel a bit flushed and giddy at the measures Sy had taken for this first date. The butterflies were still fluttering in your stomach but they had settled some as you began to eat, chatting about your day, about work, about your lives. All these things were not new topics for the two of you to share, but it felt different, more open, more sincere.

After dinner, Sy filled your wine glass with water and a pretty slice of lemon before leading you out into his backyard. There was a cute little setting around a fire pit, a smattering of chairs, and benches, and the pit looked like it was ready to be sparked to life with just a single match. Overhead were Edison bulbs strung through the trees, giving the faintest of lights.

You followed him down the slate path, bare feet feeling the residual warmth the stones still held from the disappeared sun. As you settled into the settee, Sy made quick work with the fire, as you had predicted and joined you. Without a second thought you curled into him, pressing yourself to his side, your head landing on his chest, your hand on his ribs. At first he extended his arms outward, almost surprised by your actions, but he quickly recovered, draping one arm over your back and shoulder, curling his hand over your upper arm. His other arm came to rest on his thigh, while he pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “This ok?” You asked after a moment.

Sy chuckled. “More than ok, hun. More than.” He squeezed you tighter against him. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

You gently shrugged, eyes focused on the dancing flames in front of you. “I don’t know. Because you’ve been sending me different messages.” You felt your cheeks heat up. “One second you are looking at me like I’m the only woman on the planet, and the next you are pouring me a glass of water so I’m sober enough to go home.”

“First of all, tonight you are the only woman on the planet as far as I’m concerned,” he admitted into your hair. “Secondly,” he paused as he wrapped his other arm around you, holding you firmer to him. “You are going home tonight.” His arms tightened as you stiffened against him, your hand landing on his chest to push away from him, as if he just insulted you by making decisions for you. “This is our first date,” he reminded you. “It wouldn’t be proper or right for anything else to happen except a lovely kiss goodnight at my door.”

Your brain warred for a few moments. Both touched and annoyed at his thoughts. “But what if I wanted more?” you ask even though you honestly didn’t know if you wanted more than what he was extending to you tonight. You’d be a liar if you hadn’t thought about what sex with Sy would be like. But you also knew you were terrified at taking that next step with him. In your mind, that direction was a huge step towards getting over Jake. And you weren’t sure you wanted to get over him yet. You weren’t ready to assign him to your past, put him on a shelf. He was, is, forever will be part of you.

You felt Sy kiss the top of your head, followed by a scruffy peck on your forehead. His hand cupped you under the chin, turning you to look up at him. He skimmed his hand over your cheek, catching tears on his thumb, tears you didn’t even know you had cried. “Because this,” he held up his damp digit. “Tells me you are just as scared as I am by the next step.”

Your eyes fly from his hand to meet his blue eyes in the shadows cast by the fire light, confused and a little stung by his words. “You are scared of sleeping with me?”

Sy sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. He tightened his hold on you, his hand landing on your cheek again. “Yes and no,” he admitted, his eyes slowly opening. You could see so much swirling in there, wishing you could read them. “I am partly scared I will wind up just being the man who helps you get over the heartbreak of losing Jake. That I’m the one who’s gonna put you back together only for you to find someone else when you are whole again.” His words stung hard, piercing through your heart.

“I am not asking you to put me back together,” you assert, pulling back from him. You fully extract yourself from him. “I can do that on my own. I thought this was something more than just that.” Abruptly you stood, making to move around him, intent on grabbing your things and going. You didn’t need his pity date.

“Sugar no,” he expressed, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you back. He turned on the seat to face you, his legs on either side of you as you stood, arms crossed, staring at the house, not at him. “This is more than that. So much more than that,” he assured you, dropping his arm from your waist. His hand reaches for your arm, gently tugging it from your chest, sliding his hand up your forearm to twine your fingers with his. After a few silent moments, he sighed. “I’m just scared,” he admitted. “Very scared. Of losing you mostly. You are the best thing to happen to me. Your pain and your struggles only highlight how incredible you are. I’m scared you are going to get through the pain of losing Jake, and realize I was just something to hold onto so you didn’t lose yourself while you were healing.” You turned to look at him as his voice cracked. “That I was a mistake.”

Tears in his eyes were your undoing, the hurt you felt disappeared. Cupping his cheek, you stepped forward. “Never a mistake, Sy,” you assured him. “Never.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and hips and drew you close to him. He pressed his face to your belly as your hand landed on his head. “You have been my light, my guiding light as I work through all this. No matter how this works out between us, I will never think of you as a mistake.”

The two of you stayed like that for an untold amount of time, your hand flowing over his shaved head. His face stuffed into your belly, your thighs pressed to his chest as you stared into the stars beyond the tree limbs surrounding you. Sy felt right in a way that even Jake never did.

With guilt you looked up into the sky, hoping Jake could forgive you for that. You loved him, still loved him so so much. But what you had found with Sy was different, more supportive, more mature, more fulfilling. You felt more tears fall from your eyes as you stared at the stars, remembering the first time you saw the milky way was with Jake, remembering that your first time for a lot of things was with Jake, remembering there was going to be no more first times with Jake.

Unexpectedly and surprisingly, Sy drew you into his lap, settling back on the sofa. Your knees landed on the cushion on either side of his hips as you allowed yourself to be manhandled into his embrace. You both buried your faces into each other's neck. It was only then that you realized you were crying, nay sobbing. You clung to Sy as rough as he clung to you, the two of you riding this emotional roller coaster together but separate. But most importantly together. Together you could weather whatever was thrown at you. With him at your side, you could face your fears of the unknown, of the changes that you were going to meet. You knew you could do it alone but you also knew you didn’t have to as long as he was around.

Authors Note 2: The first time reader saw the milky way with Jake can be seen here.

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lil-artist-blog-fandoms-ocs · 11 months

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Can I have Henry X Norman Polk/The Projectionist for the doodle requests they are one of my favorite pairings but theres so little content of them </3

I have never thought about this ship before, if I'm being honest. But I think they would be an amazing power couple

Ass kicking is x2 times more effective now

(Requests are open!:D)

#pride month #batim #bendy and the ink machine #batdr #bendy and the dark revival #henry stein #the projectionist #norman polk #Henry x Norman #ask mun #my art #request art #I think they would work really well in canon #how could I be so blind? they were right here #I have a couple of headcanons about them now #what did you do to me

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thedemonofcat · 5 months

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Resuming their journeys after the mountain marks a distinct change for both Jaskier and Geralt. It's awkward, and as much as they may wish otherwise, returning to their previous dynamic seems impossible.

Recognizing the need to regain Jaskier's trust, Geralt understands it's a process that might take time.

However, this process accelerates unexpectedly when a mysterious curse renders Jaskier blind. In their quest for a cure, with Jaskier unable to see, he must now place complete trust in Geralt to navigate their path.