Undertale Cookies Novelas e Histórias

I sell handmade fortune cookies in the park. Each one costs $10,000, yet every day, people fight to buy them. That’s because what I sell are fertility fortune cookies. Eat one, and you can get pregnant instantly. You can even choose what kind of child you want. Slip in a double-yolk charm, and you’ll have twins. Seal in a perfect test paper, and your child will be a genius. A spayed female dog ate one and ended up pregnant with six puppies. Someone buried a fortune cookie beneath a withered tree, and by the next day, it had burst into full bloom. I sell fortune cookies to both women and men—anyone who wants to get pregnant. I turn no one away. Even animals, if they so much as make a sound, I’ll feed them. Until one day, a young woman, Mara Kessler, who had been standing in line from dawn until dusk, finally stepped forward and timidly said she wanted to buy a fortune cookie. I only took one look at her, then staggered back in terror. "I can’t sell to you. Leave. Now."

The very moment Leila Mercado met her neighbor, Hunter Black, she knew that the man was totally enigmatic and, well, attractive. Not until he almost throws away her baked cookies! The nerve of the man! He is a snob and coldhearted – but due to her nosiness, she discovers more about Hunter. And no matter how much she tried to stop her foolish heart from falling for the man, she just couldn’t. Not especially when fate would always bring them together. Leila knew that her heart was in danger. But she is willing to take a risk. She knew that Hunter was all worth it. But is it? What if she discovers more about Hunter? What if she discovers that her neighbor is a werewolf? Would she still love and accept him?

On our engagement day, my fiancee, Lucille Perry, had her childhood best friend, Derek Miller, show up with a box of handmade cookies as a gift. Out of basic courtesy, I picked one up and took a bite. Derek and a few of his buddies burst out laughing. "This mama's boy can't even recognize his own mother's ashes!" My stomach churned violently. Shocked and furious, I lunged at him to throw a punch, but Lucille desperately held me back. Derek looked at me smugly and grinned. "Since you already ate it, why don't you tell everyone how your mom tastes?" I was so angry that I kicked him right in the face. However, Lucille turned around and slapped me hard across the cheek. "Spencer Bourdain, is this really necessary? Can't you take a joke? Eating a little bit of ashes won't kill you. Look at how petty you're being!" My heart went completely numb. I quietly pulled out my phone and sent a message to a certain number. [The wedding reception is ready. All we need now is you, the bride-to-be.]

Wendy Lloyd's first love, Hudson Clark, treats me like a walking blood bank. Because of that, I end up dying in the rented apartment Wendy has given to me out of contemptuous pity. Today is the third day of my death. My six-year-old son, Terry Heath, finally realizes that something is wrong with me. When he accidentally cuts his finger from playing with his toys, I don't coax him at all. When he tears open a pack of cookies and feeds one to me, I don't stop him at all. When he lies in my arms and grips me by the hem of my shirt while calling out to me softly, I don't respond to him at all. Feeling rather uneasy, Terry finds my phone and calls Wendy. "Mommy, why is Daddy still asleep?" Wendy responds by sending a photo of her and Hudson enjoying a holiday feast together. She then says coldly, "He's just asleep, not dead. Today is Christmas Eve, so I'm very busy right now. "Tell that arrogant father of yours that he's only free to visit me whenever he's ready to acknowledge his mistakes." After that, the call ends. Terry is left feeling stunned for a long time. Finally, he digs out the last cookie from the trash can and snaps it in half. Then, he feeds it to me again. "Daddy, let's eat."

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll unblock you next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

The Jock: Paris Holmes, also known as Hermes. The most popular boy in all of Wystwood High who everyone hates to love. Pros: is an exceptional basketball player, but one of the top ranking students with excellent grades and a pretty face to top it. His Con? He's a narcissist with homophobic tendencies and seems to think everyone is beneath him. The Nerd: Alex Parker, also known as A. She once was the most popular girl in school when she was a freshman but suddenly stayed away from them, focusing only on her studies and herself. Pros: She knows everything about everyone. Is the go-to girl when you need some help with your assignments. She could also pretend to be your girlfriend if you ask and pay well. Cons: Most of the people who claim to have spoken to her once, seem terrified of talking about her again. The Geek: Marcos Gomez, also known as Eros. The most beautiful femboy in Wystwood and every boy and girls dream, even though he doesn't think he's as pretty as they seem to think. Pros: He's soft as a teddy bear, smells like cookies and is the most obedient puppy you'd ever meet. Is good with computers and you can help find out anything you need. Is the perfect person when you want a makeover. Cons: Too good. ~ One day, Paris Holmes walked in on a session between Marcos and Alex and found himself hooked to the girl, even though she already has a boyfriend. But is affection really genuine? Would Alex, who is proceeding with caution fall for him? Or would Marcos fight for what belongs to him? The three most important figures in Wystwood now playing a game with each other. What could possibly go wrong?

My husband promised we would spend Thanksgiving with my parents this year. Right before we left, he looked down at his phone and frowned. "Damn it. I forgot to change the delivery address again. Your parents' gift basket went to Cassia's place." I stood in the entryway with my fingers frozen around my scarf. For three years of marriage, Roman DeLuca had never removed Cassia Vail's address from his shopping apps. Whenever I asked him why, he always said the same thing: "Cassia and I grew up together. She’s basically family." The Italian espresso machine I wanted went to her apartment. He said her old machine had broken anyway. The sapphire bracelet for our wedding anniversary was signed for by her. He said asking for it back after she opened it would look petty. The sunflowers and baby's breath he promised me on Valentine's Day ended up in her hands. He said she had already put them in a vase, and he couldn't give me secondhand flowers. This time, I had reminded him for two weeks. The Thanksgiving basket had a low-sugar pumpkin pie, nut-free cookies, and a custom low-sodium turkey roll for my father. I had chosen every item myself. It still went to Cassia. I kept my voice steady. "Drive over and get it back." Roman's face darkened. "She already signed for it. What do you want me to do? We'll pick up wine and pastries on the way. Same thing." "It isn't the same. Get it back." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Elena, can you stop turning every little thing into a family trial? No one makes things awkward like you do." Every time something meant for me ended up with his childhood sweetheart, I asked him to get it back. Every time, I got some version of the same answer. I stopped arguing and watched him slam the door behind him. A few minutes later, I wiped my tears and texted my attorney. [Happy Thanksgiving. Please draft a divorce agreement for me. Thank you.]