Heidi Cullinan Quotes

When life fucks you over, you don't slow down. You just keep going, keep moving, eyes peeled for the next opportunity, the next dance. Don't get bogged down in the endings or the parts where you know you're fucked even before you get there. Bluff, baby. Bluff until they all fold or until you start to believe it yourself. If you fail, get up and bluff again.

He gave himself to them completely, with no guilt, no shame, no reservation, and in that surrender he found a quiet, shining pearl he had never known existed - himself. He was Sam. He was Sunshine. He was Peaches.

Sometimes the ones we love are like butterflies, flitting all over, and we have to sit and wait patiently for them to land. Sometimes they never do, and that's a risk we take. But sometimes what they need most is to see us sitting still, patient, waiting. To understand that we're going to be there no matter what, that we're the ones who are always sitting there waiting, loyal, loving. Sometimes that's more powerful than any words.

There's nothing wrong with Xander. He doesn't need fixing. In any way."
"Exactly. Don't fuck with who he is, if he isn't broken. He's cranky, but he's a good person, and he makes great art. You're a good person too, and you're more than functional. Don't fuck with who you are. You have low sexual desire. Almost none, from the sounds of things. You've discovered a slightly different kink that aligns with Xander, and that's great. Chase that happiness. This world is a nightmare full of pain. You found someone you can make beauty with. Don't question how it happens or worry you aren't doing it the right way. Call yourself demi or an ace or gray, or refuse to take a name. It's all up to you. Call yourself the man who loves Xander Fairchild, the grumpiest, most antisocial asshole who ever lived. The one who made Xander love someone back

Steve smiled, the rug not only pulled out from under him but rolled up and put away.

Jeremey smiled at me, and my chest felt warm and tight. I love you, Emmet. I love you too, Jeremey. I kissed the inside of my palm, then pressed that palm to Jeremey's. His eyes were bright as he took the kiss tight in his fist and his open palm to his lips. I couldn't stop smiling. I loved him so much.

Skylar laughed a lot in these scenes. He was happy. He was always helping people too - a whole section depicted him playing hero to the art majors as they gazed at him adoringly, and Xander glowered jealously on the sidelines. That made Skylar laugh in real life. There were so many scenes of him helping people. He was Mr. Friendly, according to Xander.
This was such a better painting.
This was how Xander saw him?
This was beautiful.
This is who I want to be instead.
"I love this," Skylar said as Xander cleaned his brush.
"Oh, I'm not done."
Xander got out a small round brush and reached for the pink.
He began to paint delicate, beautiful cherry blossoms all over Skylar's body.
There was writing too - Xander explained each kanji to him, that they meant he was magnificent, sensitive, sensual, artistic, charming, loyal, steadfast - he lost track of the words
because while they were wonderful and the script breathtaking, it was the blossoms that did him in. He sees me as a cherry tree. A blooming, beautiful cherry tree.
Skylar sobbed.
"I love you," Skylar cried, trying not to spill tears because Xander was painting cherry blossoms across his face.
"I love you too, my sakura.

It makes me feel shitty and alone. I don't want to be alone." He sagged. "But I think maybe I have to be. Even in a crowd of people, my heart will always ache." The statement resonated in the furthest hollows of Baz's soul. "Then we'll be lonely hearts together.

As he returned to the bed, he could see Vallant eyeing him warily, but he ignored this, sat on the opposite end and braced the pad on his knee.
You think after all that, I will leave? What sort of monster do you take me for? You think I could be that callous? No better than the piece of filth who used you, nor the soulless fiend who sold you?
He ripped off the page and handed it over, but he began a second note even before Vallant had taken the first from his hand.
Is this bastard still alive? I assume not, that Rodger had him strangled? He had to pause, forcing his grip on the pencil to lighten before he went on. I want his name, if he isn't already dispatched. I'm not without resources or influence. And I'm very difficult to prosecute.

You're so…different when you work."
"Different bad?"
"Just different. You really are only seeing me as a blob of flesh."
Xander shook his head. "No. Okay - I'll grant I'm not looking at you the way I do when I'm admiring you. But I'm not looking at you the way I do my usual subjects, either. I'm highly aware of who I'm drawing right now. Of what I want this portrait to say, to whom I want it to speak."
Now Skylar softened. "You're drawing for me?"
"Everything I've drawn lately has been for you.

Mom, stop. I have a boyfriend. Jeremey. Why do you think I've been hanging out with him so much? But I can't talk about that right now. He's upset. I have to fix it.

I don't really know if I'm demi or ace or some other kind of gray or what, though. Thinking about labels makes me crazy, to be honest."
"That's fine. You don't need to use the labels if you don't want to. I like them. A lot. You might change your mind later - that's also okay. You might change your mind about which label you like. Again, this is fine. Basically you make all the rules and everyone else is going to agree with your rules or I come and drop-kick them.

That would probably kill me, so I knew he was exaggerating, but it made me feel soft inside. Nervous too, but soft. It's hard to explain. It was kind of like hope, but with jagged edges.

When people matter to you, they deserve your time and attention. That's how you keep from screwing things up.

it's okay to go slow. That everybody else's pace and definition of success isn't mine. What is easy for other people isn't necessarily so for me. Though some things are easy for me and hard for other people.

God, they hit you with the stupid stick way, way too hard.

Nothing in the world is the same as anything else, so how can anyone be normal?

He wanted a James Lear novel: near to constant episodes of sexual encounters strung together with a bit of mystery, and maybe, for window-dressing, some self-discovery.

So long as Sam wanted to take it up the ass with another dick in his mouth instead of politely pounding a pussy, he couldn't belong. Not here. Not ever. Any wedding Sam planned in this environment wouldn't just be an also-ran. It would be nothing short of a total disaster.

I'm so in love with him I can't even ask him out. I want to lie at his feet, want to smooth out all the wrinkles in his life and make everything okay.

Xander saw him to the door. It wasn't awkward per se, but it was a…charged goodbye. They were both aware everything had changed. That they'd cracked into something good, but scary. Fragile. Something to be treated with care.
He vowed to not mess this friendship up, to not muddy it or screw with it in any way.

Because that's what the right partner did: they helped you find your better self, especially when you couldn't clear out the cobwebs on your own to find the way.

In fact we are your second home, forever, full stop. You need milk money, somewhere to wash your clothes? You come to me. You need clothes? Me. A hug, a smile, a night at the movies--me." He crushed Aaron's face into his neck. "Sometimes we need a place to be completely safe, somewhere boring that isn't about sex or adventure or wild hairs. I am that place for you. As long as you want it, for ten minutes or ten hours or ten thousand years: I am your safe place. No matter what happens, no matter who leaves you or hurts you. I am your safe place.

Michael turned his head enough to pres a kiss against Wes's chest. "You are good for me."
Wes swallowed a different kind of lump, a full, radiant blockage rather than a hollow one. I love you. I love you like a fool. I would give up all the orchids in the world just to lie for an afternoon like this with you.

This was something he'd done a great deal of when he was very young, so young the memory was washed to sepia with age.

It's not going to work. I'm not the kind of guy they move mountains for. I got the message loud and clear.
Giles stared at him, trying to figure out what to say, except he truly didn't know how to counter that. He did get what Elijah was talking about. People liked to help pretty people, and Giles and Elijah weren't pretty.

That's it, he rasped. Hump me. Are you a dog? Are you a dog in heat? You my dog? He slapped me again. Speak, puppy.

Walter Lucas, you're going to marry me. And you're getting epically laid as soon as we get home.

Oh, and he loves cats. Like, crazy stupid loves them." "I fucking hate cats." "I used to too. You won't for long.

When you have an invisible disease, your sickness isn't your biggest problem. What you end up battling more than anything else, every single day, is other people.

You thought I was so toppy I wouldn't bottom?" He laughed and bit the place he'd been kissing. "Honey, I can drive from anywhere.

I just want to find a way to be with you that doesn't hurt you. Because I didn't realize it until Unc asked. No, no one's ever given me what I wanted."
He opened his eyes, turning his head to look at the space beside him, where Xander should have been. "Until you. You give me what I want without my ever asking for it - and almost always without giving you anything in return."
He placed a trembling hand on the stone bench, which was cool, despite the heat. "But what if I can't give you what you want from me

Absolutely no slouching, Ed. You're the frame. You're the stem to my flower. Quit giving me crooked pictures and wilted flowers.

Hey…no more dates with people for favors, okay?"
"No more dates for favors." Skylar squeezed Xander's hand gently. "Can…can I have one with you, though?"
Xander's heart fluttered, grew wings, and sailed lazily into the sky. "You can have as many as you want.

I can't live in the dorms and I can't stop people from calling me a freak, but I can always solve for X.

It's like Elwood Blues says: everybody needs somebody to love. I'm an everybody. I get a somebody.

The song was "I See the Light", another Tangled number. Aaron sang the male part of the duet, and Walter's friend Rose did a less-than-Mina soprano, but mostly the music fell away in the brilliant presence of the two young men on the dance floor.

Kill them with kindness and if that didn't work, use a shotgun

What if his advisor found out? Would getting caught having public sex do something to his teaching assistantship? Would he still be able to get a job? Would getting felt up in a laundromat inadvertently lead to him living on the streets, starving and exposed, selling his body for sex, which meant he would contract a disease and die?

I am normal. I belong. I have a friend who can kick ass from a wheelchair. I live independently and get good grades. I'm an excellent lover.
Like I said. I'm awesome. I'm Emmet David Washington. Train Man. The best autistic Blues Brother on the block.

There is no normal, not really. Not a right and a wrong way to be. But there is belonging. That day in Bohemia with Jeremey and David and the girls, I belonged. I belonged as much as anybody on the mean. Maybe even a little bit more.

As far as Elijah Prince was concerned, gay weddings could choke on their own cheery goddamned glitter and die.

Ethan felt a tiny ripple of victory, like he'd scored a blow against a tornado.

I understand that it's disheartening to pour effort and money into a work of art and find that others do not value it with the same intensity. I've been to this rodeo more than a few times, and yes, it's painful and hard on the soul. It is also the sort of thing that grown-ups do every day. Anyone deluded enough to think they are owed monetary success because they bled for their art is in for some hard, hard knocks and buckets full of tears. There will be many cries of "unfair" and much jealousy and hatred. And to be fair, all authors go through this every time they watch their books ride the waves of bestseller charts and the ego torture chamber known as Goodreads reviews. Even the most well-adjusted of us watch that horrible piece of shit book beat our baby to pieces and gnash our teeth and shout at our monitors demanding to know what brain-donors are shopping on amazon.com these days.

But holy Smart Bitch on a cracker, Batman, to write a post about how stupid readers are and worse to actually put it out there on the internet is so beyond the pale there's a special hell for that kind of idiocy. Let me repeat: authors exist at the pleasure of readers. Without the people who buy and read my books, I am just another dizzy broad writing shit down. Readers aren't just an author's audience; they are her lifeblood.
--

I don't know why, but nobody undoes me like you. You want to know why I ran from you for a month? That. That right there." He traced the tip of his nose along Elijah's. "I'm done running.

Nobody ever loved you like I do. ~ Steve thinking to himself about Chenco

People can see us."
"That's my hope, yes." Skylar pulled Xander a little closer to him. "Is that all right?"
Xander's heart felt like a drum, its beats reverberating through his body. "If you claim me in front of my friends?"
"If I claim you in front of anyone. Everyone. I like the way it makes you blush. But I also simply like you. And I want everyone to know." Skylar nuzzled Xander's hair briefly with his lips. "Is it all right?"
Xander melted into his side, shutting his eyes. "Yes. It's fine.

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That's what art does. Speaks to deep parts of us, usually ones we can't access any other way." He gripped his sandwich tighter as he ground the sticky gears of his manners. "I'm…glad you were able to see yourself in mine." He ignored the part about the total stranger allegedly wanting to buy his art, assuming it was nothing more than a line.
Skylar smiled, not his ting but the gentler one that made something behind Xander's balls tingle. "Me too." The smile turned regretful as he rose.

Louisa raised an eyebrow. Is he - how shall I put it delicately - a simple man?

Because the wheel wasn't about you. The wheel wasn't about anyone. It was just a damn wheel. It was as Randy said - you had to get the best of it. You had to go and be your own wheel.

Skylar captured Xander's hand, stroking it tentatively as he rested the side of his head against Xander's. "Kiss me good night?"
Xander trembled as Skylar's fingers made love to his skin, as the heat of Skylar's body surrounded him, pressing him into the door. Skylar shifted and turned with their touches, and Xander held still, gasping out loud while Skylar kept quiet, focused on undoing Xander. It made him feel vulnerable and exposed, even as he didn't want Skylar to stop.

You're shy," Skylar whispered, nuzzling his ear. Reading his mind.
Xander swallowed. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize." Skylar laced their fingers together, drew Xander in close enough that there would be no hiding the evidence of Xander's arousal. And Skylar's lack thereof. "I find your shyness very attractive."
"Oh," Xander said, because he didn't know what else to say.
"I want to date you, Xander. I want to help you with your project, and sit for your paintings, and write a manga with you, and I want to date you

He wanted to be loved and cherished, yes. But he also wanted to be fucked.

What did I do to deserve you?"
"You told me not to throw away my work. You chased me down and made me open up. Enough to see things I needed to see." Xander stepped closer and put a hand carefully on Skylar's hip. "This is how I make love to you, Skylar Stone. I make you take off your clothes and spread your legs for me. I get you to tell me stories of goddesses and turn you into one. I turn your deepest fears into the most beautiful painting I know how to create, and then I stay up all night to give it to you." He rested his nose on Skylar's shoulder, nipping him smartly. "The very idea I need to slobber on a body part to do it is insulting."
Without turning around, Skylar found Xander's hand and laced their fingers tight. "What happens if I tell you that I love you?"
Xander shut his eyes, smiling into Skylar's skin as his heart soared. He squeezed their joined hands tighter. "I'll tell you that I love you back.

The chairs and tables, decorated with runners of Italian silk, were Disney-movie themed, because Kelly ate, breathed and farted Disney.

We're always our own villains in the end. Which makes them easy to defeat, once we're ready to admit we were the only ones in our own way.

As Elijah collapsed, shaking, against him, Baz wrapped his arms around his lover, shut his eyes and let the velvet rope Elijah had used to lead him here settle comfortably around his heart.

You're honestly going to let them all think you're gay?"
There was an odd steel about Skylar's expression. "Let them think what they want. I don't care."
Skylar looked serious, but Xander couldn't help pushing back. "You care a hell of a lot and you know it."
"I care more about you. About myself. I don't want to live like that anymore." His shoulders sagged. "Please, Xander. I don't want to fight. I want to be with you

You can't carry someone else's pain. They have to walk through it on their own.

He wondered if this, more than guilt, was what had been holding him back. It wasn't that he was punishing himself as much as it was that he didn't really want anything anymore. But was that true? Did he really not want anything? What did he want to do? What did he want, period?

I don't know who I am."
"You're Skylar Stone. You're charming, kind, clever, helpful, beautiful inside and out. You don't give up. You bring people together, not because you want to use them but because you truly want to help people be better, to build good things. You help people find themselves. Sometimes you lose your way, but at the end of the day, you have a pure heart and the best of intentions. You're curious, you have drive…" He ran fingers down the slope of Skylar's neck. "You're sexy. In ways I didn't know sexy could be. You're romantic. You're attentive, caring, sweet - "
Skylar stopped his words with a kiss.
It was a simple press of lips. A soft, gentle pressure, the same as it had been the time he'd kissed Xander in the hall. But this time Skylar had so many emotions pent up behind the kiss

He didn't say anything, because he couldn't. Because he wanted to say things like I can't sleep with you because it wouldn't be like the other guys I fuck. I can't sleep with you because I already think about you way too much, care way too much, and if I sleep with you, I'm scared to think about how bad it would be if things didn't work out, if you went away too like everybody else always does. He couldn't say any of that, which meant he couldn't, not really, say anything at all.

The life you're meant to lead is worth fighting for. Worth crying for, even worth bleeding for. When you sing the right song, your life opens before you, and all the pain and sorrow become the bricks you build your castles with.

And just like that, it's over. And if you'd been stupid enough to let hope live, or if you'd been fool enough to believe the promise, you'd be crushed. Ruined by that bottle. But I know better now. I kill the hope before it can start. I ignore the promises. That's how I survive." He looked over at Vince, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable. "That's the only way to survive."

It was the saddest thing Vince had ever heard, this reasoning that living in such a dark, horrible place was the only way Trey had to protect himself from the pain.

Sit. I can't flirt standing up, and you're freakishly tall.

But what I am done with is waiting for when things are better. I'm done waiting for the pain to be all gone. I'm done trying to keep it at bay.

He was Elijah's Howl.

Every book is a revolution. Books are our ticket out of boredom, despair, loneliness - but also ignorance.

Oh, no you fucking don't. You do not ignore me for five weeks, rub your toe in the dirt and say you need something from me, then bail when I bleed off some hurt.

It was a full Spears album, apparently, and each song was as ridiculous as the one before. They were catchy, yes, but so was the plague.

Hush, Sophie. You're beautiful." It was, mostly, a quote from the movie, and it finished Elijah off. Shutting his eyes, he leaned into Baz's touch. "Don't eat my heart, Howl." "Never," Baz vowed, sealing the promise with a kiss.

Why do you stay with me?" he whispered. He wished he hadn't said it once the words were out of of his mouth, wished he could pull them back, but Laurie didn't seem fazed at all. In fact, he just smiled a crooked smile and kissed him again. "Because I don't want to dance by myself," he whispered.

Ride, authors. Write a ride. Figure out what yours is, and then pimp the ever-living shit out of it.

[…] Kyle was the first man who had ever given him everything he wanted in one package: aggression, tenderness, domination, equality. Affection and delight. Rough fucking and wild passion. He was everything.

He was perfect.

[…]

Please let this stay. Please, if I get nothing else in my life, please let this stay.

I know you said you don't like people, but you should have some people."
"All they do is let me down."
"I won't let you down.

Sometimes I feel like everyone else is carrying a bucket of water but I'm trying to carry an ocean. its very hard. sometimes I would rather not carry my ocean, even if it meant I couldn't be alive.

You want sins, Aunt? I'll show you sinning. I'll make the devil weep, I'll sin so bad.

I should probably be noble and tell you I'll let you go if it's what you want, but I'm a spoiled, selfish brat. I'll follow you, beg you, bribe you to stay. Because you're the first one to make it to my island. I don't want to let you leave.

We're dangerous because we know how to survive.

mesmerizing them with his secret librarian powers.

Everybody's got dirty laundry they don't want other people to see. The trick is figuring out how to not care about it. Make peace with it, accept it as part of who you are.

We all have pain, Wes. It isn't life sithout it. What matters in life isn't that we escape pain. What matters is that we overcome it.

We can't date. Maybe we could fuck occasionally. But that's it. Anything else is ridiculous."
A shiver ran through him as Baz's body brushed his, hands skating over his arms. "Let's be ridiculous.

Think we ought to live happily ever after. - Howl in Howl's Moving Castle

You're insane." "Crazy for you, baby," Ed whispered at his ear.

It had been fun to ride the fairy tale of Baz Acker actually giving a shit about him, but he knew firsthand fairy tales were a lot more Grimm brothers and much less Walt Disney.

Do you know what I wish?" Skylar held Xander's hand tight as he looked up at the falling leaves. "I wish we could stand like this in Japan, under real cherry trees. Ones in bloom."
"We have real cherry trees in the United States, you know."
"The ones in Japan feel more real, somehow."
Xander smiled. "Then let's make it a vow. Someday we'll stand under cherry blossoms in Japan."
Skylar smiled back, and there was only weariness, no more shadows in his face now. "It's a promise.

Because I don't like the idea of you facing them alone. Because I'm not dating you because you're convenient. Because I don't want to simply have sex with you or hang out with you." He stroked the line of Paul's beard. "I want to be with. You. I want to watch gooey movies with you, and laugh and play and figure out new ways to enjoy sex, but I want to help you through the rough parts of life too.

After several minutes, Ed said, his voice raspy and spent, "You okay, Laur?"
Laurie, his bones melted, his muscles slack, his heart pounding like a happy caged beast against the wall of his chest, his backside throbbing and still half-full of Ed, let out his breath. With great effort, he nodded.

There's no magic ruler by which we're all judged and weighed, not in this life. If you wait for someone to tell you it's time to grow up, you'll wait forever. Some people, quite happily, do just that. They don't do anything until they're forced to by circumstance