Homestuck Typing Quirks Novels & Stories

"Maybe you should spank me. I've been very, very, very naughty, sir." He chuckled, watching me go on all fours, in the middle of his office as he sat at his desk, typing away on an electronic keyboard. "You have, Miss Lenora," he smirked. "And I'm beginning to think my punishment has been too light Biting my lips like a puppy begging for a treat, I loved the sound of his voice dripping like honey. He leaned back into his chair and returned to his work, "Now get out. I've got test scripts to mark." Lenora's world crumbles when the man she has a sizzling passion for rejects her for her sister. Heartbroken, she escapes the painful situation by enrolling at Eldridge College, a distant university where she wouldn't have to face her backstabbing sister and the sexy-as-hell Professor CJ who tore her heart into shreds. What will happen when she's in her lecture hall and sees the new professor walk in, the same man who shattered her heart? Ignore her uncontrollable lust for him by pretending that he doesn't exist, or risk everything, defying the grave consequences and surrendering to the irresistible charm that CJ possesses.

His body pressed me against the wall, his breath hot against my ear. “You would make a good little wife,” Damon whispered, his fingers tilting my chin until I had no choice but to meet his piercing gaze. “And maybe you should...” “I would never marry a man like you!” I spoke very firmly. And yet… my heart betrayed me, racing like it remembered a night I swore I’d buried forever. --- The first night I sold myself, it was supposed to be the last. My father had just died, the debts were drowning me, and desperation drove me into a stranger’s bed. One night. One mistake. One child I never planned for. Three years later, I’ve clawed my way through college, fought to survive, and built a life for my daughter. Now I work for Damon Blackwell—the most ruthless billionaire in America. Cold, arrogant, and addictively dangerous. Then he corners me with a shocking proposition: to be his pretend wife for a year. But how could I? How could I offer my daughter a temporary fatherhood? But Damon doesn't care. And when he meets my little girl, everything shifts. Her allergies, her quirks, her smile… everything about her was so similar to him. And suddenly, I’m staring at the man I fear and desire most, wondering... What are the odds that this man standing before me is the same man from three years ago?

Rosie White, the only daughter of the whites who had fallen in love with her boyfriend since first grade, finally managed to date him and became his fiancé despite all the difficulties. But in the third year of their relationship, he cheated on her with an unknown woman, the truth chattering her will to love again, until she had a one-night stand with an unknown man, who pestered her to take responsibility. Rosie is the best surgeon doctor in eastern Georgia, popularly known as Miss Rose. She always appears cold-hearted and looks strong, but breaks on the inside. Being a twenty-eight-year-old spinster and having been pressured by her family to get married, the Whites were desperate to marry their daughter to someone of similar status. Mr. Logan, as Rosie calls him, is clingy as hell, and will pester her on a day-to-day basis, and finally decides to get married to him, on the premise of repaying him for rescuing her and according to the contract, divorce after after three years! But why is this man not planning to divorce at all? Who is Mr Logan? The most devilish and feared man in the United States! With so many secrets looming behind the scenes, her life is just like a Pandora's box, following the uncovering of so many truths. Excerpts “Wifey, you taste sweeter today, let me have some more.” James hugged Rosie possessively, unwilling to let the squirming woman underneath him go. “You wish! That’s what you said yesterday!” Rosie rolled her eyes and attempted to push him off her. “I’m hungry, wifey.” “There is food in the kitchen.” She stated, still typing vigorously on her laptop. “No... I want you...”

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."

I knock on the door, heart pounding like it always does when I’m about to see him. “Come in,” Justin’s voice calls—cool, smooth, and frustratingly calm. I take a deep breath and walk in, holding the folder tightly. “Here’s the report you requested, sir.” He doesn’t even glance at me. Just keeps typing, his expression unreadable. “You’re late,” he says without missing a beat. I clench my jaw. “There was a delay at the printer—” “No excuses, Joanna. Just do better next time.” Ouch. Professional and cold. As always. I nod, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Yes, sir.” I turn to leave, gripping the doorknob—just one more second and I’ll be out of this weird tension-filled office— “Wait.” I freeze. I turn around slowly. “Yes?” Justin stands now, walking toward me. In his hand, a familiar brown paper bag. He holds it out. “You didn’t have lunch.” I blink. “I’m fine.” “You skipped breakfast too. Eat.” I hesitate. “What is it?” “Chicken pesto. No onions.” My breath catches. He still remembers? “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I just… remember things.” My fingers brush his as I take the bag. Warmth. Stupid warmth that shouldn’t still feel this familiar. Then, he looks at me—really looks at me. “You shouldn’t skip meals… wife.” Silence. My chest tightens. “Don’t call me that.” But my voice is too soft to sound convincing. I walk out before I say something I’ll regret. His words echo in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. Cold one second. Kilig the next. God… he’s still him. And that’s exactly the problem.

We have just finished our classes for the day when Nicholas Wolfe tells me that he's going to a concert with his junior, Madeline Cross. "I'm heading over to the venue right now. I can't let Madeline wait for me, after all." Nicholas sounds so casual, as though he's talking about the weather. I arrange my textbooks neatly before putting them into my bag. "Okay." My response leaves Nicholas stunned. He pauses in the middle of typing a text to Madeline before raising his head to look at me. "Madeline and I are about to watch the concert performed by The Paxleys, your favorite band. Are you… not mad at me at all?" I zip my bag while replying calmly, "Nope." I've begged Nicholas 99 times to watch the concert with me. On the 100th time, he finally buys two tickets… for himself and Madeline. I'm not surprised in the slightest. Ever since Madeline transferred to our university, I've started to get used to Nicholas prioritizing her over me. I sling my bag onto my shoulder and begin making my way to the classroom's exit. Nicholas doesn't move an inch. But when I'm about to leave, he catches up with me and grips my wrist. "Lia, we'll travel to Sorenton three days later. The Paxleys will be holding another concert there. I'll attend that concert with you. "That day is our third-year anniversary, so I definitely won't bail out on you." I look down at Nicholas' hand that's gripping me, then I look up at him. This time, my lips curl into a smile. "Okay." Over the past six months, Nicholas has promised me to do things "next week" nine times, and said "I'll definitely show up" 13 times, and "don't worry" 16 times. But he's bailed out on me every single time he makes plans with me. Next week, we won't be attending the concert together, that's for sure. After all, I'm the one bailing on him this time.

Even though it's the New Year holidays, I'm still cooped up in the company while churning out the paperwork needed for the company's listing process. That's when my keyboard suddenly types a paragraph on its own. "Stop working already! Your boss is about to fire you, and yet you're still slaving away for his sake!" I'm stunned by the information I see. The keyboard goes on typing, "He said you only have a bachelor's degree. If not for the fact that you're a walking lucky charm, you wouldn't have gotten into this company in the first place! "Now that the company is in the process of getting listed, it's costing far too much just to keep you around! Even though you're being paid a high salary every month, you can't even provide the company with any value! "He intends to dismiss you the moment the company gets listed! Since it's the new year, new blood should be joining the company!" I've been holding my coffee mug the whole time. At that moment, I can feel my hands starting to tremble. For five years, the projects that I've manned never got into any problems. The final round of funding always came through. Even when we were choosing a new office, we came across the situation of an owner who was all-too happy to get rid of the building. I can say with great confidence that I'm 90% of the main reason how this company expanded from a tiny office to the entire building. To think that I'm the first person to be discarded right after my boss reaches his goal… I can feel my stomach twisting uneasily. Even my throat goes tight from the anxiety. Just as I'm about to leave, a few angry voices ring out in the office. "I'm an office chair! I'll break during the board meeting tomorrow and make sure that your boss falls right on his ass!" "I'm a printer! I'll make sure to print all the documents he wants with nothing but gibberish on them!" "I'm a coffee machine! Tomorrow, I'll whip him a special brew that ensures he will never get to leave the toilet bowl for the rest of the day!"

In my second year running the company, my high school class monitor suddenly started tagging me nonstop in the group chat. [Alice, Vivian was only joking with you back then. Why won't you come to her party? Are you trying to make her feel guilty?] I didn't understand what was going on. Only after reading the messages did I realize that our class beauty, Vivian Spencer, had recently found her biological parents—and today, she had thrown a party to announce it to the world. Me: [I'm busy.] I had no intention of attending a party hosted by someone who used to bully me. But my answer didn't shut them up. Instead, it stirred up even more absurd speculation. [Don't tell me you're doing some kind of labor job and can't take leave?] [We're all former classmates. If you show up, I'll give you sixty dollars. That should cover two days of your salary.] Vivian chimed in as well. [Alice, it was just a joke back then. And I'd already dropped out by then. Why can't you let it go?] I stared at her message for a long moment before typing: [Only trash would call bullying a joke.] The group exploded instantly. [Vivian's no trash! She's a wealthy heiress. She's not even in the same league as you. Poor people really love to nitpick.] Vivian, ever the hypocrite, tried to smooth things over. [No matter what, today marks a new beginning for me. I hope you'll come to witness it. [We're classmates, after all. I don't hold it against you for forcing me to drop out. If you're short on money, I can even ask my dad to arrange a job for you.] Then she sent a screenshot of her chat with her father. When I saw her father's profile picture, I froze. Wasn't that the same profile picture as my freeloading dad? But I look seventy percent like my mom—it's impossible for me to be a fake daughter. And Vivian was two months younger than me. I let out a laugh. "Alright, I'll definitely attend your recognition party."