Melanie Martinez Strawberry Shortcake Lyrics

On our seventh mating anniversary, my Alpha mate, Ronan Thorne, abandons me once again for his secretary, Evelyn Stone's sake. This time, I don't kick up a fuss at all. Instead, I calmly draw out a silver dagger in hopes of ending my life. The moment the tip of the dagger is pressed against my neck, I feel someone grab my wrist all of a sudden. "Why are you hurting yourself? Who broke your heart?" I looked up in a daze, only to see the 18-year-old version of Ronan. He's so anxious that his eyes have gone red. At the same time, he keeps trying to embrace me. "Tell me who that bastard is! I'll make him pay!" I don't explain anything at all. Instead, I merely utter his name softly. After that, the current Ronan personally locks me up in the dungeon. He claims that I need to reflect on myself—that I shouldn't target Evelyn out of jealousy. Just then, the younger Ronan appears again. He stares at the older and cold-looking Ronan outside the silver bars, then turns back to look at me with disbelief written all over his eyes. I just nod in response. He clenches his fists tightly. Soon, a furious roar escapes his throat. "He's not worthy of being your mate! I'll kill anyone who wants to hurt you, regardless of who they are!" As opposed to the 28-year-old Ronan, the 18-year-old version of him loves me more than anything else in the world. Naturally, he will definitely stick to the promises he has made to me.

In my last life, I secretly slipped a Love Potion into the cup of my destined mate, the Alpha of my pack, Jason Green. As expected, he fell in love with me. We held the grandest mate-bonding ceremony in our pack's history and became the couple everyone envied. The effects of the Love Potion would last seven years. I naively believed that it would be enough to win his true heart. But Jason's childhood friend, Lilian Foster, traded her own tongue to a black-market witch for the antidote. The moment the truth was exposed, the love in Jason's eyes turned into a hatred that pierced through the bone. He sold me to the black market as a live test subject for experiments and forced me to drink a Corrosive Spellvial. My insides rotted away, and I died from sheer pain. Now, I had regressed in time, once again holding that same bottle of Love Potion. This time, I didn't hesitate. I drank it all in one swift movement. Jason, I wouldn't beg for your love again. I was going to love myself. So… Why are you the one who ended up regretting it?

After getting the betrayal from 6 years of loyal relationship, Jenny Gomez, 25 decided to seduce her boss to take revenge. She was bold and stubborn, even got successful leading her boss to the . But suddenly, a strange yet stunning man showed up in her house and claimed to be the person whom she had spent the night with. Who knew, fate always likes to joke around with her. He was the man of his words. He was cold as ice and had a strong physics. To add some salt in her injury, he smiled cruelly and asked, "Jenny, how's the feeling last night?"

Deborah was abused all her life. During her childhood, she was mistreated by her stepmother and stepsiblings, causing her to lose her ability to speak due to the trauma. As an adult, she thought things would change when she married the man she loved, Roger Peterson, but he hated her with a passion and considered her a nuisance for being mute. Roger was always distant and never cared about the pain he caused her. Instead, his attention fell entirely on his childhood sweetheart, spoiling her and making her his mistress. Afraid of being alone, Deborah endured her marriage to Roger for three years, thinking that if she loved and understood him, he would notice her worth and leave his mistress. But she soon realized that would never happen and had reached her limit. Deborah wanted a divorce to seek her own happiness. Even if Roger refused to out of pride, she wouldn't give up because she had found a reason to fight for her right to live a happy life.

With her future destroyed, her career shattered, her heart broken, and her reputation tainted, Karen Milburn left Strawberry Pack and swore to never return. Five years later, after finding enough evidence to bring charges against all the culprits who had ever bullied, threatened, humiliated, and pushed her into situations she never wished to be in, she returned. Her ex-husband, the Aplha of the Strawberry Pack, wants her to forgive all his past deeds and restart their relationship. Will she be able to, given the fact that he killed her twins? What of her parents, whom he had also killed? Will they get back together, or will she avenge him with her other bullies?

On the day the zombie outbreak occurs, I tell my boyfriend, Valerio Petrucci, to come over and hide in my apartment, where my front door is already reinforced. Soon, sounds of the door being knocked can be heard. I'm about to get up when transparent comment bubbles appear in front of my eyes. "Don't open the door! Valerio isn't the only one out there—there are a bunch of loan sharks with him as well!" "One of them is already infected with the zombie virus and is about to turn into a zombie!" "You'll die if you let them in!" Someone knocks on the door once again at that moment.

I fell in love with a cold, taciturn tattoo artist named Henry Kane. So I deliberately damaged my tattoo again and again, picking at the skin and reworking the design, just to see him a few more times. By the third visit for touch-ups, scrolling comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: “I’m dying of laughter. This desperate female lead literally destroyed her freshly tattooed skin just to see the male lead again, and she still didn’t dare confess her feelings.” “Henry Kane is actually the embodiment of an ancient ferocious beast who sat on mountains of gold and silver but refused to spend them, choosing instead to open a tattoo studio to experience mortal life.” “He looks icy and distant, but his possessiveness has long since maxed out.” “He was just afraid his violent nature would scare his woman away.” I looked at the man in front of me, who was lowering his head as he wiped down the tattoo machine, and he did indeed give off an unmistakable keep-your-distance aura. But the comments claimed that he wanted to possess me? “Um… Excuse me?” The man tilted his head slightly, and under the weight of his deep gaze, the confession lodged in my throat. My mind short-circuited, and I blurted out, “I… I wanted to tattoo it on my lower back this time.” In an instant, the comments exploded in joy. “Woohoo! We’re taking off!” “Lower back, you say? That’s a sensitive spot! Can this pure-hearted ferocious beast really hold back?” “Good grief, straight to the undressing scene! This cunning move by the female lead is operating on a whole other level!” The man’s hand gripping the tattoo machine jerked to a sudden stop, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then he answered, his voice slightly hoarse and unreadable, “Alright.”

After six years of dating, Selena Yane is about to marry Zachary Xenakis. However, her long-lost younger sister is found and brought back to the family. While Selena tries her best to make it up to Lucine Yane, Lucine doesn't appreciate her efforts. Not only does Lucine accuse Selena of being jealous and stealing their parents' love, but she even sets her sights on Zachary. With everyone standing against Selena, even Zachary advises her, "Lucine's about to marry into the Chiton family soon. It's only right that we make it up to her as best as we can." Hence, he even takes a family photo with Lucine and buys a necklace for her—the limited-edition necklace that should have been Selena's. He then abandons Selena on a deserted road, where she nearly becomes food for the wild animals. Even so, Zachary still feels like he owes it to Lucine. It isn't till the day of the wedding that Zachary finally learns it isn't Lucine marrying into the Chiton family. It's Selena. He tries desperately to stop the wedding convoy, but Selena doesn't even look back once.

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."

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.