Touya Dabi Isn't As Smooth As He Thinks He Is.
touya dabi isn't as smooth as he thinks he is.
the first time you catch him, you're in the parking lot, halfway from your car to the long, concrete flight of stairs outside the apartment building. whenever he would come before, when you could sit on the steps and wait for him to arrive—his lone figure would always manifest across the street.
near a convenience store, one that's been closed for years and yet still remains, on the outside of your little gated community. where exactly he was coming from, you never knew, but he would give a half-ass jog across the road and hop the fence and stand before you on the steps, arms out like he was coming home after a long stint away.
you suppose he was. at least that's how it felt to you.
it's not a coincidence that you spot him there now, leaning against the wall as the sun starts to set. hiding in the growing shadows well enough, but still visible where he stands, where he's always stood. it's only been a few weeks since you've seen him and you wish he was closer so that you could read between his lines, find the truth in them. despite everything, you ache for him, for this; it must be tearing him to bits, even if he won't admit it.
today was your first appointment. it's early, but things are as fine as they're supposed to be, you assume. nothing major to report. healthy. fast heartbeat. a little grape-sized thing.
touya dabi doesn't want you to see him, but you raise a thumbs-up high in the air anyway.
money appears under your mat a week or so after that, fat stacks of ¥5,000 bills.
it makes you angry at first; touya dabi made it very clear that he will have no part in this. with it. that didn't surprise you in the slightest, which is maybe why you avoided him once you found out. locked the doors and the windows and didn't answer any numbers that read unknown caller. at least that way it was your choice not to see him, and not because he was jumping ship.
the whole exchange was ugly. the kind of fight that makes your stomach sour, has you wanting to go back just so you could argue against whatever points he thought he was making. has your eyes watering, stinging with the memory of it all.
but this is unexpected. it. not that you don't have a support system and some savings in the bank, but being a single mother wasn't exactly predicted in your forecast and it's his damn kid, after all. if he wants to fork over all his earnings—however he gets them—to try and mitigate some of his own guilt, well, then, that's his choice.
meanwhile, you're gonna buy a bitchin' crib, one that attaches to the side of your mattress.
you start showing a little after three months, and touya dabi starts creeping closer.
he doesn't wait near the store anymore and instead moves inside the gate. he must watch you when you have your back turned because you don't see him until you're inside, moving to the window as slowly as you can so as not to alert him with your shadow.
not ever in the same spot. all you get is the flash of his coat, trailing his ghost as he turns and high-tails it, or the edge of his boot that he doesn't realize is sticking out so much. sometimes it's just the sound of a clicking lighter, the low burn of a cigarette end. a white-haired figure in the distance, gone with the low breeze.
one night, when you're feeling sick and lonely and the reality starts to bite at your edges, you open the blinds and take your time with mindless things; cleaning the glass in a tight tank-top, shuffling through mail in the clear view, poking at your belly button, trying to imagine what the little thing will look like.
you don't see him that time, but his hurt echoes inside you.
touya dabi can't stand it after the baby shower.
a friend helps lug all your gifts up the stairs, helps to stack them neatly in the office that was emptied when you found out. it's a lot of big things, like some animal-shaped-diaper creature and tons of wipes and a high-chair and an overload of stuffed animals. you go half-way down to thank them, bid them goodnight, and when you return to the room, he's sitting there.
on the floor with his legs out in front of him, facing the presents like they're his next battle. touya dabi is even wearing a pink party hat, one of the paper horns tucked between his lips like a cigarette.
you look at him and he looks at you and he blows it and the silly sound would make you laugh, if your heart wasn't beating so fast in your chest. you're stuck between a lot of emotions, but you've been picturing this moment every night for months, and the one thing you want to make clear to him is:
"if you don't want her—"
"i never said that."
it's the first words he's spoken to you in a long time, and they come out just as angry as the last ones did. a snap, furious, suddenly. in turn, it makes you just as mad.
your face screws up, and so does his. "okay, well you heavily implied it, then, when you insisted she wasn't yours."
touya dabi throws his hands in the air and shakes his head at you, like you're dumb. "how does that make any fucking sense? even if it's not mine, i didn't say—"
"she is yours, asshole—"
"don't start with the names, baby," he's quick to shoot off the floor, even quicker to yank the hat off his head. "you don't wanna fucking go there with me."
you're stuck between a lot of emotions, but the strongest is heartbreak, and to see him yell at you and be so fucking angry is harder than you imagined it would be. you thought you'd be strong enough by now to stand your ground; instead your voice comes out as a whispered plea. "get out."
touya dabi runs a harsh hand over his face, pinpricks of blood tearing into his skin before he crushes the hat in his fist and tosses it to the floor. he opens his mouth like there's something he wants to say, but he doesn't.
he just leaves. just like last time. just like always.
it becomes routine.
the quiet creak of the floorboards is him in the middle of the night, the soft click of the door latch when he closes it as he steps into the office. sometimes he pokes around in the things you begin to unpack, sometimes he leaves his own stuff; the clean stack of bills, a princess doll you've seen advertised on tv, a gel thing you put in the freezer for her to gnaw on and—surprisingly—medical stuff.
kid's cough medicine, a thermometer, pedialyte, diaper rash cream and other skin lotions, that sucky bulb thing for snot.
"i was early."
this is the second conversation you have with him, when you're nearing six months. he doesn't turn around to look at you, just watches the mobile your mom bought as it spins, splashing little fishies onto the wall.
"and small and—sick all the time." touya dabi lets out a bitter little laugh, and the rasp of it makes your heart throb. "probably the shittiest baby ever, so—" his teeth click together hard. "good luck with that."
you shrug, even though he doesn't see it. "we'll figure it out."
"we?" like a cat, his back curls, all his hair standing on end. you never see the flame, but smoke swirls his palm. he still doesn't look at you. "we who? don't tell me you mean that fuck that's over here all the time."
the admission should maybe surprise you, but touya dabi has always been—particular about you. about sharing. you can only imagine how he feels for the baby in your tummy. probably will go nuclear if she ever calls someone else 'dad'.
you can't help but to roll your eyes. "no, we as in her and i." it only relaxes him a little bit and you shuffle on your feet, clearing your throat to make way for all the words you wanted to say to him last time. "you can't—" already, your voice breaks and your eyes sting and his back curls all over again. "you can't just pop into her life every other month because you feel bad, dabi. so, you're either in or—you're out."
that has him peeking over his shoulder at you, eyes shining in the moonlight filtering through the windows. glowing, you could say. "now you're gonna keep me from seeing my kid?"
it's—beyond the most infuriating thing you've ever heard and so you have to laugh, just once, as you wipe your eyes. "oh, so she is yours now?"
he sighs, goes back to watching the mobile, and is quiet for a long time. almost like he's considering it—but you know better. "well, she ain't here yet, so i got time before i have to scram."
and you swore you wouldn't do this, wouldn't beg for him, but the tears won't stop—even though he mutters out a quiet "i can't—just—don't cry, i can't—"—and something swells in your throat and your chest aches and—
"you don't have to be out, touya." you hate how pathetic it sounds, but you wouldn't care if it meant he would stay. "we can figure it out, together. as a—"
"this is my mom's number." touya dabi talks so loud over you, he's practically yelling. eyes on the floor as he holds out a piece of scrap paper, a name scrawled across in his neat handwriting. "if you wanna tell her, then—she'll probably wanna know, or whatever. my sister too, she'll—"
he never finishes and he never looks at you, just shakes his head at the carpet.
dabi visits one last time before she arrives.
you find him where he always is, where he was the first time he accepted what was to come; sitting on the floor of your daughter's room, smiling, almost, at the neon stars plastered to the ceiling. in his hands is a set of photos from one of your ultrasounds—nothing new, just somewhere in the middle of your pregnancy—and he holds it with the very tips of his fingers, like he's afraid of touching it anymore than he has to.
you sit beside him, heavy with a baby and standing on sore, swollen ankles. "you can have it, if you want. i have plenty."
and you'll take plenty more, in the future; he just shrugs, attempting to look indifferent and yet looking anything but. you expect him to to deny you, like he's resisted all things, but his bottom lip pouts out more than he probably means for it to, and he just fingers one edge carefully.
"hope you got a name picked out."
"i do," you lean into him and he lets you, even accepts the tiny kiss you press into his warm shoulder. "do you want to know what it is?"
"no," he sighs and makes a face, though you can't be sure if the annoyance that flashes over him is meant for you, or himself. "best not to."
a set of tears stings your eyes that you know will show in your voice, so you just nod, letting your head fall to his shoulder. it draws out another heavy breath from him, a shaky one that he holds too long, before he finally rests his mouth against your hair. you can feel the flare of his nostrils, the grind of his jaw; if he could cry, you think he would be. he would have, since the beginning.
very quietly, you tell him, "she won't be anything like you," and when he nods and grits his teeth and clears his throat, you capitalize, take advantage of all the affection he'll show by taking one of his hands in your own. "she'll know love and patience and kindness, and i promise i won't ever try to make her into something else."
she won't know fear, not until she has to, not until you can help it. she won't ever have to know what it's like to grow up without a roof over her head, or food in her little belly. you won't let her be a tool, a stand-in, something you throw away in place of someone else.
all that he had to go through. all that's made touya dabi.
she'll never know that hurt.
"yeah," he whispers. "good."
when he moves his head, you move yours, propping your chin up to see him better. touya headbutts you lightly, squeezes your hand in his own, pinches at each of your fingers.
"is there anything...you want her to know about you?"
he doesn't bother to hide his frown now, though he shakes his head at the floor and looks away. it pulls on what little holds him together, tugs on him in ways that shouldn't, that you wish wouldn't, and he stares at the set of photos in his hands and tells you, "i never said that i didn't want her."
More Posts from Milk-tea-and-memories and Others
“do you ever regret it?” you ask. “loving me?”
“why would i ever regret that?” he asks in a low whisper, fingertips drawing invisible lines on your exposed hip bone.
“i feel like…” you pause, sighing as you turn your head to the ceiling on his chest. “i feel like we’re holding each other back.”
satoru is quiet. he holds his breath, fingers halting on your skin.
“i wouldn’t want someone using me just to get you,” you elaborate, and gojo exhales. “i feel like…i don’t know. we keep each other weak?” you looking up at him, a hand leaning on a smooth chest. your eyes pour into his endless ocean. “i keep you weak.”
he keeps looking at you for a few seconds before a hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “you keep me sane.”
you pout just a bit, and satoru pulls you up to kiss it away. “you keep me tied down. grounded.” he tugs your hair away from your face as your arm cages his bigger body underneath you. “if anything, the fact that you’re the only weak spot i have says a lot.”
“i don’t want you to have a weak spot because of me.”
“i wouldn’t have it any other way,” he pushes you down to your previous position, a hand climbing to your hair while the other returns to your hip.
you stay quiet this time around, unconvinced, weighed down by your own overthinking. he comforts you like this, fingers massaging your scalp, calm breathes lulling you to sleepiness.
“i know choosing to be in a relationship this serious in a life like ours is risky,” satoru mumbles some time later. he squeezes you in, turning to fully face your body. “but i won’t find this anywhere else.”
you look up, and he finally sees the little tears clouding your vision. a smile stretches his lips pleasantly and a hand raises to swipe a thumb under a tearful eye, and you lean in his touch like a starved kitten.
“i won’t find you anywhere else.”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
pls reblog so i can find my old followers again!:(
some eels only live a few years but plenty live full human lifespans. The oldest one known is about 155 years. Eels don't develop sex organs till the last year of their life. All eels are believed to come from the sargasso sea where eels leave at the start of their lives and return to towards the end. The Sargasso seas is the only sea surrounded completely by water. The Sargasso seas on its own is a deeply interesting existence and deserves a much more detailed description than I can give. All eels includes the freshwater eels, so for at least part of all freshwater eels' lives they are believed to live in seawater for at least the length of their journey to get from the Sargasso sea towards their normal living environments. Their migration patterns and reproduction conditions are still not very well mapped. also electric eels aren't eels they're knifefish and do not share the same mysteries as eels have built into their very being.
That’s really cool, I didn’t know eels were so fascinating. I decided to look more into eels because I had some time on my hands out found this ted Ed video about the mystery of how they mate and I feel like anyone who is interested in your facts would also find this very interesting too :)
cell phone doesn't like water because it is a combination of the other three elements. it is a rock (earth) that we fill with lightning (fire) that can control radio waves (air). if it contained water too, it would be too perfect; it would be like a god. to prevent this, the universe kills the would be uniter-of-the-elements. it's basic science.
HJSKSNSOS YOUR TAGS ON MY BAKUGO PIECE MADE ME GIGGLE TYSM
also idk why or how I gave those dreams but iM GLAD YOU ENJOY THE PRODUCT OF THEM🥹❤️
PLEASE DARLING ID DIE FOR BAKUGO DREAMS YOU’RE SO LUCKY
think about your first time driving a car
shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?
think about your first kiss
shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?
think about your first time falling in love
shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?
think about your first sleepover
shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?
think about your first playdate
shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?
This is not from your fic but could you do a small scenario of Nanami interacting with his baby? I swear those dad!Nanami headcanons made me so soft
okay i was going to write a scenario with a baby baby but then this kinda hit me and i had to go with it instead!
wc is ~1k bc i'm down bad for dad!nanami
gn!reader, unnamed daughter, hint of angst but mostly fluff (i think)
"Tadaima!" you call, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and nudging them to the side. They splay out beside Nanami's shoes, neatly tucked away.
There's no patter of little feet scrambling to the genkan. No soft, pleased rumble of okaeri as louder footsteps follow in their wake. You fish out your phone.
Nanami picks up on the second ring, his stoic greeting softened by the way it sounds when he calls you sweetheart.
"Where'd you go?" you ask.
He sighs. "I left a note."
"I didn't read it."
"Clearly," he says, but his voice is warm, all summer honey. "We're at the park. We'll head home in a few minutes."
"What, I don't get to have fun at the park?"
He sighs again, heavier this time. You bite down on your laugh. "Come join us, then," he says.
"I'll be there in just a minute."
He pauses. "She wanted to go to Hanegi."
"You're a sucker," you tell him, slipping your shoes back on.
"I'm aware."
"I'll be there in twenty, then."
He says something muffled. You don't need to hear the words to know he's talking to your daughter; it's in his voice, affection stitched quiet into his tone, a patchwork quilt of love sewn soft on his tongue. She chatters back at him, her voice a burbling spring brook.
"Okay," Nanami says distantly, and then he's clear again as he says, monotone: "Apparently twenty minutes is too long. You're supposed to walk faster."
You snort. "I'll do my best. See you soon."
"See you soon, sweetheart."
You walk to Hanegi, passing by the park just down your street—small but serviceable, the paths to the playground lined with overflowing flowers, their petals crinkled at the edges, summer's last stand.
It's easy to find them when you arrive; the playground has begun to empty as it gets later. You pause for a moment and just watch.
Nanami's on one knee, his broad body dwarfing your daughter. She wiggles in place as he ties her shoe, his big hands deft. You can hear the rumble of his voice as he murmurs to her, but the words are lost in the space between you.
He checks her other shoe before pulling back. Your daughter reaches out and pats him on the cheek with a chubby hand. He catches it and presses a little kiss against her palm before getting to his feet.
He watches her run back to a little circle of children. Nanami can be difficult to read at the best of times, but what sweeps over his face now is stark. It's gone within a breath, but you think you'll never forget it.
"Hi," you say, sidling up to him as he leans down to brush off his knee. "I told you we should get the velcro shoes."
He rolls his eyes. "Then she'll never learn," he says, straightening up and pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your lips.
"Is she learning if you're doing it for her?"
He pinches at your side. Your yelp is half laughter, and he moves out of the way without looking when you try to pinch him back. But then his hand is on your hip, and you lean into the warmth of him. Across the way, your daughter shrieks out a laugh as she chases another little girl.
"When do you leave?" you ask quietly.
His fingers flex on your hip. "Tomorrow morning."
You let out a soft breath. "Okay," you say.
The two of you watch your daughter play—calling out to her at times, until Nanami is roped into pushing her on the swing, with her indifferent to your pout when she shuts down your defense of your pushes in comparison to his—until the promise of night is settling over the horizon.
Nanami calls her name. She comes trotting over, hair mussed and eyes bright. He leans down to take her hand for the walk home, his hand engulfing her tiny one.
You've just made it out of the park when she starts dragging her feet. "Daddy," she says, tugging at his hand. "'M tired."
Nanami raises a brow. "If you want something, you should ask politely," he says, but he's already bending down to sweep her up. He perches her on his hip, cradles her small form to him with excruciating delicacy.
Sucker, you mouth at him. He ignores you.
"Sorry," she grumbles, burying her face into his chest.
He presses a kiss to her hair. It doesn't quite hide the quirk of his lips, and the fondness tucked secret into that small smile swells in you, washes over you like the tide, an endless sea too vast for your body.
"Kento," you say suddenly, breathlessly. "Let's go to the okonomiyaki stall for dinner."
Your daughter perks up immediately, turning her small face towards him, a flower seeking sun.
Nanami glances at you. "We'd be out past her bedtime."
"I know."
He considers you for a moment, his dark eyes knowing. They're mesmerizing in the quickly fading sunlight. "Alright," he says.
Your daughter giggles with delight.
"What do you want in yours?" he asks her, already heading in the direction of the stall, his hand warm at the small of your back, keeping you close.
You barely hear her reply. You're too busy watching them, committing them to memory, from the glint of Nanami's golden hair to the delicate brush of his fingers on her cheeks to the way her cheeks puff out as she squirms.
He pauses for a moment to press his forehead against hers, whispering something too quiet for you to catch. She beams at him, and he smiles back, his fingers tracing little patterns against you, and it feels like coming home.
“megumi is so passive” and “megumi can’t say i love you” ok then why does he kiss my forehead every morning???? why does he go out of his way to buy me flowers!!!! why can’t he leave the house without telling me he loves me??? Weird
i implore you to read the comments
Apparently my stepdad and I are fucking psychically linked because ?? every single time he makes chili for dinner I get a migraine. Without fail. And it became like a ha ha running joke because it happened so many times but now I’m living 3 hours away from my parents and I just texted my mom and
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME
regrets are an excuse for people who have failed.
46 Of The Most Beautiful Sentences In YA Literature
1. “You could rattle the stars. You could do anything, if you only dared. And deep down, you know it too, and that’s what scares you the most.” —Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass
2. “Because sometimes chance and circumstance can seem like the most appalling injustice, but we just have to adapt. That’s all we can do.” —Gavin Extence, The Universe Versus Alex Woods
3. “I can’t seem to be a pessimist long enough to overlook the possibility of things being overwhelmingly good.” —John Corey Whaley, Where Things Come Back
4. “Books are my friends, my companions. They make me laugh and cry and find meaning in life.” ―Christopher Paolini, Eragon
5. “Because Margo knows the secret of leaving, the secret I have only just now learned; leaving feels good and pure only when you leave something important, something that mattered to you. Pulling life out by the roots. But you can’t do that until your life has grown roots.” —John Green, Paper Towns
6. “Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.” ―J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
7. “I’m done with those; regrets are an excuse for people who have failed.” —Ned Vizzini, It’s Kind of a Funny Story
8. “Becoming fearless isn’t the point. That’s impossible. It’s learning how to control your fear, and how to be free from it.” —Veronica Roth, Divergent
9. “The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.” —Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me
10. “Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.” —Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park
11. “Don’t be afraid of death; be afraid of an unlived life. You don’t have to live forever, you just have to live.” —Natalie Babbit, Tuck Everlasting
12. “Just because we’ve been … dealt a certain hand … it doesn’t mean that we can’t choose to rise above — to conquer the boundaries of a destiny that none of us wanted.” —Stephenie Meyer, Twilight
13. “Some walks you have to take alone.” —Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay
14. “That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.” —John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
15. “We believe in the wrong things. That’s what frustrates me the most. Not the lack of belief, but the belief in the wrong things. You want meaning? Well, the meanings are out there. We’re just so damn good at reading them wrong.” —Rachel Cohn, Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares
16. “Why would you be given wings if you weren’t meant to fly?” —Leslye Walton, The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender
17. “Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing.” —Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
18. “It’s just that…I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It’s the universe’s way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It’s how life is.” —Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever
19. “The universe is bigger than anything that can fit into your mind.” —Ava Dellaira, Love Letters to the Dead
20. “I try to think about how it all works. At school dances, I sit in the background, and I tap my toe, and I wonder how many couples will dance to ‘their song.’ In the hallways, I see the girls wearing the guys’ jackets, and I think about the idea of property. And I wonder if anyone is really happy. I hope they are. I really hope they are.” —Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
21. “Things were rough all over but it was better that way. That way, you could tell the other guy was human too.” —S.E. Hinton, The Outsiders
22. “What if evil doesn’t really exist? What if evil is something dreamed up by man, and there is nothing to struggle against except our own limitations? The constant battle between our will, our desires, and our choices?” —Libba Bray, Rebel Angels
23. “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” —J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
24. “It’s like the people who believe they’ll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn’t work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean.” —Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book
25. “I can tell you that the end of a life is the sum of the love that was lived in it, that whatever you think you have sworn, being here at the end of Jem’s life is not what is important. It was being here for every other moment.” —Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess
26. “Life, with its rules, its obligations, and its freedoms, is like a sonnet: You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself.” —Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle In Time
27. “Maybe who we are isn’t so much about what we do, but rather what we’re capable of when we least expect it” —Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper
28. “People never really died. They only went on to a better place, to wait a while for their loved ones to join them. And then once more they went back to the world, in the same way they had arrived the first time around.” ―V.C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic
29. “Goodbye, I say, goodbye, as I disappear little by little into the middle of the middle of my own spectacular now.” —Tim Tharp, The Spectacular Now
30. “But if I’m it, the last of my kind, the last page of human history, like hell I’m going to let the story end this way…Because if I am the last one, then I am humanity. And if this is humanity’s last war, then I am the battlefield.” —Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave
31. “The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like clouds, and she would ring them out like the rain.” —Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
32. “Child, no one is ever ready for anything. I would never doom you to that. What sort of adventureless life would that be?” —Alethea Kontis, Enchanted
33. “And now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.” —John Steinbeck, East of Eden
34. “Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.” ―Jandy Nelson, I’ll Give You the Sun
35. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: We all want everything to be okay. We don’t even wish so much for fantastic or marvelous or outstanding. We will happily settle for okay, because most of the time, okay is enough.” —David Levithan, Every Day
36. “Doubt everything at least once. What you decide to keep, you’ll be able to be confident of. And what you decide to ditch, you will replace with what your instincts tell you is true.” ―Amy Plum, After the End
37. “Just as a river by night shines with the reflected light of the moon, so too do you shine with the light of your family, your people, and your God. So you are never far from home, never alone, wherever you go.” —Karen Cushman, Catherine Called Birdy
38. “You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.” —John Green, Looking for Alaska
39. “There’s no shame in fear, my father told me, what matters is how we face it.” —George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings
40. “I know that the whole point—the only point—is to find the things that matter, and hold on to them, and fight for them, and refuse to let them go.” —Lauren Oliver, Delirium
41. “We feel cold, but we don’t mind it, because we will not come to harm. And if we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn’t feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars, or the music of the aurora, or best of all the silky feeling of moonlight on our skin. It’s worth being cold for that.” —Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass
42. “It’s a lot easier to be lost than found. It’s the reason we’re always searching and rarely discovered—so many locks not enough keys.” ―Sarah Dessen, Lock and Key
43. “On that cold night in January it all slipped into place for me and she became my everything and my everyone. My music, my sun, my words, my logic, my confusion, my flaw.” —Julie Murphy, Side Effects May Vary
44. “Hope? Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there’s no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.” —Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke and Bone
45. “[She] had always suffered from a vague restlessness, a longing for adventure that she told herself severely was the result of reading too many novels when she was a small child.” —Robin McKinley, The Blue Sword
46. “Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels, but old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young.” —J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
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incredibly scattered poster || 22 || call me ixy
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