|
025a5bb
|
Oh, I don't mean you're handsome, not the way people think of handsome. Your face seems kind. But your eyes - they're beautiful. They're wild, crazy, like some animal peering out of a forest on fire.
|
|
handsome
|
Charles Bukowski |
|
c41ff74
|
And I provide much- needed eye candy.
|
|
humor
uriah
handsome
|
Veronica Roth |
|
9fffe84
|
Curse him for being all tight muscle, with ivory skin and a mouth as soft as rose petals. Curse him for having hair as fair as the sun, and eyes as black as night. Curse him for having the grace of a cat and deft, cool hands. And now I am having the same argument on paper that I have in my own head on too many nights. I know my choice is sensible, but it isn't my common sense I think with, those times Rosto's stolen a kiss from me.
|
|
romance
infatuation
handsome
|
Tamora Pierce |
|
a81b369
|
The look of experience suited him, especially because somewhere deep in those eyes, there still lurked a dangerous invitation to play. He had a quality of masculine confidence that was a thousand times more potent than mere handsomeness. Perfect goodlooks could leave you cold, but this kind of sexy charisma went straight to your knees. -Haven Travis
|
|
hardy
handsome
sexy
|
Lisa Kleypas |
|
e221e42
|
Oh, I forgot to mention it: My brother is the kind of man whom women stalk. In cooperative packs.
|
|
handsome
incubus
stalking
vampire
|
Jim Butcher |
|
afe9a70
|
"Alone in her shelter, she allowed herself tears. When her shelter cooled to the touch she called to Gull, "Coming out!" She eased her head out into the smoky air, looked over at Gull. She imaged they both looked like a couple of sweaty, parboiled turtles climbing out of their shells. "Hello, gorgeous." She laughed. It hurt her throat, but she laughed. "Hey, handsome."
|
|
tears
handsome
|
Nora Roberts |
|
3eb39f6
|
You take a very handsome guy, or a guy that thinks he's a real hot-shot, and they're always asking you to do them a big favor. Just because they're crazy about themself, they think you're crazy about them, too, and that you're just dying to do them a favor. It's sort of funny, in a way.
|
|
funny
them
themself
you-re
think
favor
handsome
dying
|
J.D. Salinger |
|
77f03cf
|
A miscreant with coiffed, scented hair, a slender waist, the hips of a woman and the chest of a Prussian officer, with a finely tied cravat, by all girls admired. ~ [introduction of character Montparnasse]
|
|
fanfic-inspiration
hot-villain
metrosexual
montparnasse
sexy-villain
yaoi-fetish-fuel
yaoi-material
villain
cute
handsome
sexy
|
Victor Hugo |
|
b1092ce
|
A miscreant with coiffed, scented hair, a slender waist, the hips of a woman and the chest of a Prussian officer, with a finely tied cravat, by all girls admired. ~ [ introduction of character Montparnasse ]
|
|
fanfic-inspiration
hot-villain
metrosexual
montparnasse
sexy-villain
yaoi-fetish-fuel
yaoi-material
hot
villain
cute
handsome
sexy
|
Victor Hugo |
|
58e6ae0
|
Alma had grown as tall as a man by now, with broad shoulders. ... This need not have necessarily precluded her from marriage. Some men liked a larger woman, who promised a stronger disposition, and Alma, it could be argued, had a handsome profile--at least from her left side. She certainly had a fine, friendly nature. Yet she was missing some invisible, essential ingredient, and so, despite all the frank eroticism that lay hidden within her body, her presence in a room did not kindle ideas of ardor in any man. It did not help that Alma herself believed she was unlovely. She believed this only because she had been told it so many times, and in so many different ways. Most recently, the news of her homeliness had come straight from her father....
|
|
homeliness
unlovely
handsome
|
Elizabeth Gilbert |
|
3c019a3
|
She heard nothing but experienced a sensation that prickled along her spine like a warm touch caressing her skin. Slowly, with the care of prey beneath a predator's survey, she turned her head- and met the gaze of the elegant gentleman lounging at the door. In her travels, she had seen many a striking and charming man, but none had been as handsome as this- and all had been more charming. This man was a statue in stark black and white, hewn from rugged granite and adolescent dreams. His face wasn't really handsome; his nose was thin and crooked, his eyes heavy lidded, his cheekbones broad, stark and hollowed. But he wielded a quality of power, of toughness, that made Eleanor want to huddle into a shivering, cowardly little ball. Then he smiled, and she caught her breath in awe. His mouth... his glorious, sensual mouth. His lips were wide, too wide, and broad, too broad. His teeth were white, clean, strong as a wolf's. He looked like a man seldom amused by life, but he was amused by her, and she realized in a rush of mortification that she remained standing on the stool, reading one of his books and lost to the grave realities of her situation. The reality that stated she was an imposter, sent to mollify this man until the real duchess could arrive. Mollify? Him? Not likely. Nothing would mollify him. Nothing except... well, whatever it was he wanted. And she wasn't fool enough to think she knew what that was. The immediate reality was that she would somehow have to step down onto the floor and of necessity expose her ankles to his gaze. It wasn't as if he wouldn't look. He was looking now, observing her figure with an appreciation all the more impressive for its subtlety. His gaze flicked along her spine, along her backside, and down her legs with such concentration that she formed the impression he knew very well what she looked like clad only in her chemise- and that was an unnerving sensation.
|
|
eleanor-de-lacy
remington-knight
handsome
|
Christina Dodd |