fulano

“He doesn’t move or speak, but he doesn’t need to. I know his desires by the pace of his breath and the tilt of his shoulders, by the shape of his jaw and the heat of his gaze. I know him, and in knowing him I love him, and in loving him I cannot do as he wishes.”
― Alix E. Harrow, The Six Deaths of the Saint

“I wanted to stand up and shout at them all that my wife not only wasn’t divinely beautiful, she wasn’t even interestingly ugly; her conversation consisted entirely of insults, dire warnings, and tedious lectures I couldn’t even ignore; and they were all extraordinary idiots for imagining I could possibly have had the bad taste to fall in love with a dull, prosing, long-faced harridan.”
― Naomi Novik, Spinning Silver

“Jesus Christ,” he pants. “I’ll tell you what, this pussy is worth losing my fucking sanity over. I’m happily kissing my common sense goodbye tonight, because I won’t see reason now. I’ll only be thinking in terms of fucking my little Meg. Fucking and fucking and fucking her!” he roars, spitting on me once, twice. “You’re my asylum now. And this cunt is tighter than any straitjacket they could put me in. God. God. Throw away the fucking key.”
― Jessa Kane , A One Woman Job

“Do you know why my peers want their brides to have pale skin?.... They want a woman who is a canvas, white and empty. Standing still, existing for no other purpose than to serve as a mute object onto which they can paint their own hopes and desires. They want their brides veiled. They want a demure, blank space they can fill with whatever they desire.”
― Courtney Milan, Unveiled