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“You see, the worst thing about fucking men is they want to do the bare minimum and for us to treat them like gods,” she said when she was done. “They pretend to be clueless when you tell them you didn’t actually come in the one minute and fifty seconds of sex—no foreplay, by the way—then they act hurt and humiliated when you discuss it with them because they’re manipulative little fucks.”
You can always count on Anne say what needs to be said
All of your fucking American sitcoms with the dopey, overweight, below average, misogynistic husband with the hot wife who they treat like shit tells them that women don’t have needs. We, in their eyes, exist for them. And if we dare to communicate our needs, we’re bitches, our expectations are too high, we’re reading too many romance novels… whatever the fuck.”
I was a people pleaser with an anxiety disorder who hated conflict.
Girl, same
“Who did this to you?” Rowan’s nostrils flared, his jaw was set in a rigid line.
Swoon
“Rowan,” I said in not much more than a whisper. “Yeah, cupcake?” “What is this?” His mouth turned upward ever so slightly before he leaned in and kissed me gently on the forehead. When he pulled back, our faces were inches apart. My heart thrummed. “This,” he murmured, eyes glued to mine, “is the beginning of us.”
Double swoon
“A woman can defend her own honor. Or a woman can be without honor, if she likes it that way.”
“I’m going home to listen to the new Taylor Swift album and eat an entire rotisserie chicken,”
Girl....me too!
Grumpy men were somehow more often than not regarded as broody, dangerous or mysterious. Grumpy women were more often than not regarded as bitches.
Preach
She’s impressive as fuck. To women, of course. To men, when she renders them useless or inferior, it fucks with them.
“You want to be a good girl for me?”
“I mean, we haven’t even been on a real date—” “Who needs a real date when you can get fucked on a kitchen counter?” Fiona interrupted. “Conventional dating rituals are designed to keep women chaste, submissive, and in pursuit of some bullshit puritan identity… all invented by men,”
Boom
“Sedona, to be exact,” Ansel clarified. “Full of vortexes of spiritual energy.”
Been there
I need hard, Nora. Want hard, ugly love. ’Cause that’s all I’m capable of.”
“It’s not a ring,” Rowan said when he saw the look on my face. “I’m planning on gettin’ you one of those, don’t get me wrong, but I have sisters. So, I know that presenting a woman with an engagement ring on Christmas Day and calling it her present is an act of war.”
