#cdthedit

And by Madame X, he meant Jordan Hennessy.

(the dreamscape of Ronan Lynch from the books by Maggie Stiefvater)

... then Ronan, in a dream, had chosen its form in this world. He had not quite dreamt it into being the way he’d dreamt other things into being. He had just opened the door for it and chosen a forest-shaped suit for it to wear.

— I’M HAVING HIS BABY. CAN I HAVE AN ORANGE JUICE?

They hugged, hard. It was shocking to hold him. The truth of him was right there beneath Ronan’s hands, and it still seemed impossible.

     We used to hear the stars, too. When people stopped talking, there was silence. Now you could shut every mouth on the planet and there’d still be a hum. Air-conditioning groaning from the vent beside you. Semi trucks hissing on a highway miles away. A plane complaining ten thousand feet above you.      Silence is an extinct word.      It bothers you, doesn’t it?

happy birthday, suki! ♡ [@venkasring]

When she was a child, she’d once seen a feather drift down and touch lightly on the surface of a pond. The feather had not sunk, nor even really broken the surface tension. Instead, it had landed light as a butterfly, trembling just enough to look alive, and slowly turned end over end in the breeze. She’d recalled that image again and again and again in her teens. Farooq-Lane was that feather.