Eárin Devine

“There are dark sides of every fandom. The pockets filled with a certain kind of nostalgia where everything is sacred and shouldn’t be tampered with. Where new things are always trash, or judged too harshly, or not up to some unknown holy standard. Where new people with new ideas can’t touch an old sinking ship even if it’ll repair it—make it better than before. This is that toxic side, bubbling up, boiling over. It’s the side that I’ve had the pleasure of staying far away from because it’s so small and inconsequential.”
― Ashley Poston, The Princess and the Fangirl

“I look pretty. The kind of pretty that allows monsters to deceive people into forests, into dances where they will find their doom.”
― Holly Black, The Stolen Heir

“That’s what my sister Taryn always says. She tells me that I remind her of her late husband.”
― Holly Black, The Stolen Heir

“Daughter? You never let me do anything! You’ve punished me for—for I don’t know what! For years!” Tears burn my cheeks. “Why do you hate me?” “Hate you?” She blinks slowly, as if it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard. “Danielle, I don’t hate you.” I clench my jaw. “You sure haven’t acted like it. All I ever wanted from you was one thing—just one. I wanted you to be proud of me. Like you’re proud of Cal and Chloe. I just…” I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to stop the tears. I hate crying, but I can’t stop. “I just wanted—wanted you to love me, too.” I put my face into the crook of my elbow, stifling my sobs. The mascara and glitter and all the good things from the con rub off onto my skin, leaving wet streaks. When I finally manage to look up, Catherine’s blue eyes are glittering in the foyer light. She doesn’t respond for a long moment. Finally, she tilts her head, smiling like she’s trying to be gentle. “I’ve tried to love you, sweetie, but you make it so hard.”
― Ashley Poston, Geekerella