Deadpan Expression Anime Mga Nobela at Kwento

On New Year's Day, my childhood friend asked me for the passcode to my new house. I thought she was planning to bring a housewarming gift, but when I opened the door, I froze in shock. There were more than a dozen people inside. She walked over with a smile before giving me a subtle look. "Ryan, what are you doing here? Come on in. You're just in time. You're lucky enough to catch our family gathering." I stood there in stunned silence. Before I could even ask what was going on, her boyfriend suddenly spoke in a mocking tone. "Is your childhood friend very persuasive? I'm curious how he sweet-talked you into giving him your house's passcode." Her expression instantly turned serious. "He didn't sweet-talk me. He got on his knees and begged. He said he had a fight with his family and got kicked out with nowhere to stay. You know how soft-hearted I am. I didn't think much of it and just gave it to him." Her boyfriend's eyes had a look of contempt. "No normal man would stoop that low. Who knows how many women he's begged behind the scenes just to get what he wants." She gave him a look of approval. "Babe, how are you so smart? There was a time he stripped naked and begged me just to buy a watch he liked. I've told you about it." Her boyfriend burst out laughing. "So that was him? He's honestly shameless." Seeing her spew lies so casually and irresponsibly, I couldn't contain my anger. I stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face. "Who the hell do you think you are? Taking over my house and slandering me? Get out."

During the freshman orientation, Fletcher Stone, the campus heartthrob, leads a protest in front of the orientation leader, Lindsey Quinn. As a result, Lindsey decides to make everyone run laps around the field. While Fletcher has volunteered to run everyone's laps on his own, the truth is, he has transferred the fatigue to me. He finishes his 30-mile run without a shift in his expression. After that, he tells Lindsey that he's willing to take on everyone's orientation training on his own. Because of that, everyone becomes Fletcher's fans. I, on the other hand, keep getting admitted into the infirmary because of exhaustion, which results in me being late to the orientation. My tardiness ends up affecting our class' chances of receiving a good rank. I get berated by the entire class as a result. When I try to explain my condition to everyone, they all look at me as though I were crazy. "You've barely attended the orientation for a few days, so how is it possible for you to be this exhausted? I think you're just pretending to be exhausted!" "Are you jealous of Fletcher because he's way fitter and more handsome than you? Now, he's even more popular than you!" Driven by despair, I demand answers from Fletcher. But he just changes into his uniform nonchalantly. "Please step out of my way. I need to go on a weighted cross-country run as the college's representative, so I have no time to fool around with you." Once Fletcher is done with the run in the 104-degree weather, his expression remains cool and collected. But I'm so exhausted that I suffer from organ failure, leading to my immediate death. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the first day of the freshman orientation. This time, I decide to take the initiative to report to Lindsey. "I'll take on the punishment for the entire class."

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiance, Christopher Vittorino, slid the ring—that was supposed to be mine—onto Lina Sorenzo, my stepsister's finger, right in front of the entire family. Christopher's uncle, Don Mark Vittorino, was the one who had specifically ordered his subordinates to deliver the ring that symbolizes the wearer's status as the future Donna of the Vittorino family to Christopher himself. I could only stare at Christopher's deep blue eyes in disbelief. Just as I was about to question him, he just gazed at me with a stony expression. Even his tone was cold and rigid. "The Don intends to send me to Maravena for the next five years to develop my own business there. Once I return, I'll take over the family business. "You don't have any skills at all, Isla. If you stay with me, you'll just be a hindrance to me and cause me unwanted trouble. "Lina, on the other hand, is fluent in Maravenese. Not to mention, she knows how to expand the family business overseas. She will serve as a brilliant assistant for me." After that, Christopher took Lina's hand and left the venue with her, not caring about the fact that the leaders of the other branch families as well as the elders kept murmuring among themselves. Because of that, I ended up becoming the laughingstock of the entire family. Five years later, Christopher and Lina return to the country. When he spots me showing up at a family gathering held by Mark with a ruby ring that signifies my status as the Donna on my finger, his expression changes instantly. "I can't believe you learned to steal, Isla!" I just ignore Christopher's accusations in favor of looking for the Black Rose Medal that my son, Toby Vittorino, has lost. That medal is a gift he received on his fourth birthday from Mark. Poor Toby has been sobbing for a long time because of its disappearance. I need to hurry up and find it as soon as possible.

After I became pregnant, my figure changed, and my face grew puffy. My fiancé began to treat me with a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of disdain. When the baby was five months along, it happened to be Valentine's Day. That day, he finally agreed to take our wedding photos, something I'd been hoping for. But just as we arrived at the bridal studio, his phone rang. "Mike, I just got back to the country. My friends are hosting a gathering, and everyone's bringing their boyfriends. Could you come and pretend to be mine?" It was a few short sentences, yet it completely altered the expression on his face. He turned abruptly, stepping out of the studio with a look of urgency. "Lucy's back. I have to go see her," he said. Hearing those words, a fire of rage ignited inside me, one I couldn't suppress. "For her? You're going to leave me here alone?" I demanded. "Do you even know how long I've been looking forward to today? It's Valentine's Day, and instead of staying with me, you're going to be with her?" His impatience flared visibly as I stood my ground. Without a word, his hand pushed me aside, and he strode out of the shop. "We can take wedding photos any day. I'm the only one Lucy has in this country. I have to go see her," he said. Then, gripping my wrist with alarming force, he shoved me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Without a backward glance, he got into his car and drove off. I felt a sudden, wet heat flowing from my lower abdomen. Pain surged through my stomach, sharp and unbearable, as my consciousness started to fade. A wave of despair and terror consumed me. Someone. Anyone. Please save my baby.

On the day my internship officially turned into a full-time job, I used the black card my dad gave me to buy a bicycle. The moment Karen Kosner—the office's self-appointed queen of frugality—found out, her face went dark. "Two hundred thousand on a crappy bike? You're not afraid karma's gonna strike you dead for throwing money away like that?" The veins in her forehead bulged, her expression twisted with rage. "What's the point of this useless thing? You can't eat it. A bus pass would've made way more sense. My brother's out there busting his hump for every hard-earned dollar, and you're spending like water. Keep this up, you'll make him jump off a roof." My face dropped. I rubbed the sore spot on my forehead where she'd jabbed me. "Are you out of your mind? I'm spending my own family's money. What the hell does that have to do with your brother or your family?" Karen kept muttering under her breath, but I wasn't about to stand there listening to her crap. I turned and went to get some water. When I came back, the black card in my bag was gone. She leaned toward me, still playing the part of the vicious future sister-in-law. "Who knows which random guy gave you that card. Trashy. I threw it away, so get real and live right with my brother. "From now on, every penny you spend has to go through me. You buy something only if I say yes. I need to break you of this reckless spending habit." My temples throbbed with anger. Fine. So she thought she was some kind of financial genius, did she? We'd settle this nice and slow—once she lost her job and got blacklisted by the entire industry.

On the day of my wedding, the video I had painstakingly prepared was suddenly replaced with intimate photos of my fiancé and my foster sister, Lindsey Remmington. Within minutes, it hit the top of the trending list. Overnight, I, a celebrated actress, became the abandoned bride of a wealthy family and a public laughingstock. Just when I thought I'd reached rock bottom, Connor Presley, the heir of Elluel City's most powerful family and the boy I'd grown up with, returned from abroad. In front of flashing cameras, he knelt with a diamond ring and proposed, silencing every rumor and every sneer. After we married, we appeared inseparable, our affection the picture of perfection. The only flaw was his infertility—his condition made it nearly impossible for me to conceive. For three long years, I underwent countless rounds of IVF. At last, I became pregnant. Connor was overjoyed. To celebrate, he threw an extravagant party in honor of our long-awaited child. But in the middle of the revelry, one of his closest friends, drunk and unguarded, muttered in Russian, "Connor, you've gone too far. Just because Lindsey was afraid pregnancy would ruin her figure, you put the zygote into Rachel's body and let her carry the baby for you two? If she ever finds out the truth, you'll regret it for the rest of your life." Connor's expression didn't waver. "This was Lindsey's only wish. I had to grant it," he replied coolly. "Besides, having a child with Lindsey has always been my dream. Only her child deserves to be the heir of the Presley family. The days ahead are long—I'll make it up to Rachel, eventually." I stood frozen, my body trembling uncontrollably. That night, I made an appointment for an abortion. When Connor stormed into the hospital, raging like a madman, I looked up at him with chilling calm and said, "I understand Russian."

On the third day I was brought back to my family, the fake heir, Christopher Parker, gets into a car crash in order to frame me as the mastermind. His mental state has deteriorated to one belonging to an eight-year-old. My older sister, Eliza Parker, thinks that I'm the one who hired someone to hit Christopher with a car. Because of that, she hates my guts and torments me endlessly. In order to take care of Christopher, Eliza eats with him and sleeps beside him every day. As for me, I'm used as the human mat that they can step on anytime they want. I'm arranged to take care of Christopher so that I can atone for my sins. As long as Christopher reveals an aggrieved expression, I'll get whipped ten times regardless of the cause. I thought Eliza would find out the truth sooner or later. But in her haste to cure Christopher, she actually decides to send me to an underground lab as a test subject for their experiments just because the doctors there claim that the medication can help restore Christopher's mental state. Five years later, Eliza finally comes to pick me up. A mocking smile is etched onto her face as she sees how haggard I am. "You should recognize your faults by now. It's been five years, after all. If you dare lay a finger on Christopher after coming home with me, I'll definitely send you back here." I raise my head hazily, tears soon seeping out of my eyes due to how bright the light is. Then, I mutter softly, "There won't be a next time…" Eliza won't have to worry about me seizing a chance to hurt her beloved Christopher. After all, the drug experiments conducted on me for the past five years have already ruined my body. There are only seven days left in my life span.

Meeting one’s mate was supposed to be a wonderful thing For Aurora however, it was hate at first sight. Attending Twilight Academy had always been her dream. But that dream quickly turns into a nightmare when she discovers she’s mated to the Lycan Prince. Theron Grey. Theron Grey would stop at nothing to make her life miserable. His life's mission, have her kicked out of Twilight Academy. Lycan’s, dominant ones with royal bloodlines, don’t get mated to mutts. Or do they? Because Theron, it seemed, was the exception. ***** ****** “Mates?” I whispered. It couldn’t be. “You’re my mate?” I asked again, my voice barely above a whisper. His expression darkened more. “Don’t ever say those words again,” he growled. Being his mate was disgraceful. A fact he was desperate to keep hidden. What exactly was the Moon Goddess high on when she made this ridiculous match?! “Well then, reject me!” I snapped. I was tired of being treated like I was nothing. “I can’t! That’s the thing!” he roared back. For some odd reason, rejection wasn’t an option. We were stuck with each other. Now, I was trapped in a school with a mate who loathed my very existence and wanted me gone. “This school cannot contain the both of us Leave!” he ordered. I met his gaze head-on. “Over my dead body.” ******** Aurora had been shielded her whole life like a secret. But Twilight Academy would force her to uncover the truth She belonged here more than she ever imagined. And beneath Theron’s cold, cruel exterior, maybe there was something else. A reason he needed her gone. Maybe pushing her away wasn’t just about who she was. Maybe it was about what he was afraid would be uncovered.

I stared down at the contract, a wave of defiance bubbling up in me. I turned back to him, meeting his gaze head-on. "I never asked for your help," I said, "I would've found a way to save my mother on my own. You may think you own me, but I'd rather die than marry you." A slow smile crept across his face, a smug, knowing look that sent a chill down my spine. He knew exactly what I was thinking, as if my resistance only entertained him. "Look at me," he commanded. I reluctantly turned back, locking eyes with him. His face had shifted, his expression darkened, and for the first time, true fury was etched in his eyes. "I’ll count to ten," he said, "If that contract isn’t signed by the time I reach ten, I’ll make the same call I made to pay those bills. Only this time, the instructions will be different. Your mother... your sister…they’ll both be gone." He took a breath, settling back as if the threat were a mere matter of routine. "So… ONE!!" I swallowed hard, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Could he be bluffing? No, I'd seen him kill before, seen how casually he turned life and death into sports. "FOUR," he counted. My hands started to shake. What could I do? If I signed, I'd be bound to him forever, trapped as his wife. But if I didn’t... my mother and sister’s lives hung in the balance. "SEVEN." I closed my eyes, fighting the panic rising in my chest. He wouldn’t do it, I told myself. He couldn’t be that monstrous. But even as I thought it, the doubt crept in. I wasn’t sure. Then, he hit "TEN" himself

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”