You deserve a happy ending. No matter what the situation is, no matter how hard it is to survive and cope. You deserve a true genuine happy ending.
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sometimes we just need someone to pay enough attention.
for the longest time i had been trying to read The Lord of The Rings. everyone had sung the praises for it, over and over. i'd seen clips of the movie and it seemed like it could be fun, but actually reading it was fucking horrible.
my parents had the omnibus - all the books squished into one big tome - and in the 4th grade i started sort of an annual tradition: i would start trying to read TLR and get frustrated after about a month and put it back down. at first i figured i was just too young for it, and that it would eventually make sense.
but every time i came back to it, i would find myself having the exact same experience: it was confusing, weird, and dry as a fucking bone. i couldn't figure it out. how had everyone else on earth read this book and enjoyed it? how had they made movies out of this thing? it was, like, barely coherent. i would see it on "classics" list and on every fantasy/sci-fi list and everyone said i should read it; but i figured that it was like my opinion of great expectations - just because it's a classic doesn't mean i'm going to like experiencing it.
at 20, i began the process of forcing myself through it. if i had to treat the experience like a self-inflicted textbook, i would - but i was going to read it.
my mom came across me taking notes at our kitchen table. i was on the last few pages of the first book in the omnibus, and i was dreading moving on to the next. she smiled down at me. only you would take notes on creative writing. then she sat down and her brow wrinkled. wait. why are you taking notes on this?
i said the thing i always said - it's boring, and i forget what's happening in it because it's so weird, and dense. and strange.
she nodded a little, and started to stand up. and then sat back down and said - wait, will you show me the book?
i was happy to hand it over, annoyed with the fact i'd barely made a dent in the monster of a thing. she pulled it to herself, pushing her glasses up so she could read the tiny writing. for a moment, she was silent, and then she let out a cackle. she wouldn't stop laughing. oh my god. i cannot wait to tell your father.
i was immediately defensive. okay, maybe i'm stupid but i've been trying to read this since the 4th grade and -
she shook her head. raquel, this is the Silmarillion. you've been reading the Silmarillion, not the lord of the rings.
anyway, it turns out that the hobbit and lord of the rings series are all super good and i understand why they're recommended reading. but good lord (of the rings), i wish somebody had just asked - wait. this kind of thing is right up your alley. you love fantasy. it sounds like something might be wrong. why do you think it's so boring?
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as a masc, there's something about interlacing my fingers with a femme's that is so personal to me because the contrast of our hands, the shape and feel of them, look so good together. something about my blunt nails and angular fingers against your painted nails and softer hands is so precious and gorgeous.
we're two separate beings, but then we can be in a state where we're so wrapped up in each other we can hardly tell where we start and end, yet here, with our hands clasped, i see how different we are, yet so wholly connected we remain.
i think about rubbing my thumb over the curve of her thumb, slow and steady, just so she knows i'm here, that i'm a constant. i think about holding out my hand asking do you trust me? and she might say yes and i'll hold her hand like i'm a knight, a prince, asking her to dance. my thumb will swipe over her knuckles, and my lips will brush against them too. my lady.
it's the most minimalistic way to be physically touching, and i think it's beautiful that there are so many different ways and reasons we can be holding hands.
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Be gentle with your failures, be gentle with your mistakes. If you had known the outcome before hand you would have made a better choice. And even if you didn't mean for it to happen, you don't deserve to feel bad for doing something you really wanted to do.
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Sometimes your protagonist just needs a reassurance item, whether that be a bucket or a coat.
In this instance, Stanley demanded that he would be handed the Narrator's coat in order for him to think critically; should he go through the left door or through the right door?
Think hard, dear Stanley. This is a crucial step. Maybe with The Stanley Parable Reassurance Coat, our darling protagonist will be able to make a compelling choice soon, with the tranquil of the coat to fuel his inner-strength to finally choose to his heart's desire.
Choose wisely, Stanley. The story is in your hands.
A small silly goodnight doodle ^^ info dump in the tags about the thought behind this little thing.
Goodnight and hopefully I'll see you guys after my exams! Take care <3
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