Call Down the Hawk (Dreamer Trilogy #1)

by Maggie Stiefvater

Friends were serious business for Ronan Lynch. He was slow to acquire them, slower to lose them. The list was small, both because secrets made relationships complicated and because friends, for Ronan, were time-consuming. They got all of him. You could not, Ronan thought, give all of yourself away to many people, or there would be nothing left.

Adam Parrish wanted him, and he wanted Adam Parrish.

ROWHQKQKNQNRAOQENENDNNWNREEEEOOOOWWWW

She extinguished her cigarette on his bald spot,

HELP HAHAHAHHAHA

With a sigh, Ronan took a photo of his elbow bent to make it look like a butt, texted it over, and got up.

😭

small furred dragons.

SHUT UP

Now Ronan had a cow on a string. A cow balloon. A bovine blimp.

HEEEEEELP

What an excellent cow, what strong decisions it had made this morning,

When he was gone, Aurora had retold these stories, but from the points of

view of the swans, the crones, the queens, and the daughters.

he fumbled in his glove box for some napkins. He didn’t have any; he had gas receipts. He used them to wipe his face

Hannah core

Sometimes looking at a beautiful woman can make another woman feel self-conscious about her appearance, but Shawna felt the opposite—she was suffused with a new awareness of the things about her body that she found beautiful.

ahead of him felt retro-actively terrifying. Like the Niall in the photo had so many choices left to make, and any one of them might make him never end up their father.

Time worked differently before noon when one ordinarily stayed up all night.

They hugged again, merrily, waltzing messily in the kitchen, and kissed, merrily, waltzing more.

🫠

The squid suit dragged him into the back.

😭 what the hell just happened

There was a time when Jordan used to fantasize about living on her own. When she turned eighteen, the idea of it was like a crush, an obsession, something that dully ached during the day and frothed her to sleeplessness at night.

Maggie you are always finding words for my deepest feelings

He grinned. It was a sharp, durable expression, hard-won. “I’m going to need someplace dry to lie down.”

Where’d my clothes go

If he had Ronan’s ability, would he have woken up erased?

“I know you feel anxious on sunny days,”

There are some days, Dalí had said, when I think I’m going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.

You’re always so you all the time. You have your drink

This may or may not be my inner dialogue

and your hair and your clothing and your voice and the way you sit with your hand on your leg like that and it’s too much.

Declan wasn’t a huggable Lynch, but Matthew had never cared. He’d hugged him anyway.

It was a hug with a stranger, which was always peculiar because unacquainted arms and ribs and hips don’t fit together correctly.

He didn’t have it in him to love another dream. It hurt too bad. Loving anything did.

She reached between them and fumbled until she felt his leather wristbands, then found his hand. She held it. He held back tightly.

Shit got me wailing fr