Fruits Basket Memes Novels & Stories

Even before marrying Wayne Cooper, I knew he had a fierce sister-in-law. He would always tell me to never get into a fight with her. After we marry, we spend Christmas Eve at his parents' house for the first time. I'm forced to bustle around in the kitchen as I prepare a feast for over a dozen people. Meanwhile, Wayne's family lounges in the living room. They chatter away while enjoying the fruits I've washed and sliced. As I place the last dish on the table, Wayne's brother and sister-in-law, Kyle Cooper and Lucy Wren, arrive. When I want to take my seat, I discover there isn't one for me. That's when Lucy snorts and says sarcastically, "I heard you're a good wife who's obedient and easygoing, Melanie. I have to say that your cooking is… mediocre, though." This infuriates me. I'm about to retort when she turns to my mother-in-law. She says, "I think you should do the cooking from now on, Gloria. Your food is delicious…"

On the day before New Year's Eve, I didn't shut the window all the way, and my little sister sneezed. My parents kicked me out and ordered me to collect firewood in the dark. Inside, the family crowded around her, laughing as they handed her presents. I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I slung the basket onto my back before heading into the mountains through the wind and snow. I didn't find any firewood. I found a man instead. His leg was wedged in a crack between rocks, bloody enough to scare me. When he saw me, he said in a hoarse voice, "Get me out of here, girl. I can give you whatever you want." I looked up at him, my eyes finally focusing. "Really? Then I want you to be my dad."

“I think we should introduce ourselves properly,” he said, with a small hint of a smile. “I’m Alexander Anderson. Richard’s father.” I froze, unable to think properly. This couldn't be happening. I had kissed my father-in-law and I had actually enjoyed it! *** Anna Whitmore thought marrying into the powerful Anderson family would save her family from ruin and give her a better life. Instead, it became the beginning of her nightmare. Stuck in an abusive marriage she could not escape, Anna is forced to play the role of a perfect trophy wife to Richard Anderson, the hottest and most powerful billionaire tycoon in Beverly Hills. But everything changed after an accidental encounter with a mysterious stranger who ignites desires she thought were long dead and buried. But this mysterious stranger turns out to be none other than her husband's father... Alexander Anderson. This is the beginning of Anna's troubles as she soon realizes that the best fruits are always forbidden. Will Anna hold strong and resist the dark allure of the man she should never want… or will she surrender to a temptation that could ruin both father and son?

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.]

I'd been bonded to my mate, Brandon Blackstone, the Alpha heir of the Blackstone pack, for three years. But I'd never been allowed to attend his family dinners. Every full moon, I could only stay home alone. Brandon said it was a centuries-old tradition of the Blackstone pack. Only after passing a long probationary period, proving absolute loyalty to the pack and one's mate, would someone be allowed to attend the Alpha's family dinners. I'd believed him for three whole years. But now, I'd found three photos in his car. In the background, I could see a long table laden with a variety of fruits and delectable dishes. The Alpha and Luna raised their glasses beside the statue of the Moon Goddess, standing quietly to the side. And beside Brandon stood a beautiful she-wolf. Moonlight spilled down, and I could clearly see how close they were standing, their fingers tightly interlaced. That was when I finally understood. Not being allowed to attend the dinners was never about some probationary period. It was because Brandon, or rather the entire Blackstone pack, believed that the person qualified to stand beside the future Alpha would never be me.

Now everything is changing...with everyone of us sweeping under the carpet the scars of yesterday's sins. Those scars are what kept me alive until you are all born to hear the story. The world government was powerful and taking advantage of the human colonial minds, they buried our freedom and equity. But now that we the Elites whom they educated and rose to revolts against the fingers that had fed us... What do you call it? Oh! yes they had termed it Rebellion. They did call us rebels, for seeking a small ration part of the best that nature has given to mankind. Al-sural-tu-Nas. This for mankind, tell ye that the beast you trained in the dark had turned to an angel in the day. We are filled from the pot of lies now that our bellies cannot contain what they obtain, the promises that were compromised, treaties that were breached, least they covered the black mails and lies with a blanket of Diplomacy. But now is the snatch of the gallon beer from the drunkard because now there is what when diplomacy fails.....is war. "Now we are free." Later in the future a seed germinates bearing fruits of the YESTERDAYS as she possess the abilities to time travel and set broken pieces together but this has consequences in the future of mankind. Read along

"No one will ever be able to murder me; they would never dare." Galante, Carmine. I'm quite aware that I'm not a good man. People were terrified and respected when they heard my name, "Lord" Rolly Exruto Guevara. All in the sake of power, I committed dreadful, brutal, heartless, remorseless, violent things. I was the Capo of The Family, an American Italian crime gang. It's the mafia. Many females want to be at the bottom of my ruthless Mafia, but a man must look for his wife, not a woman who looks for her husband. I want to marry a lady or perhaps have children with a woman. It's what the males in my environment did to get more power and become more powerful. The fruits of my power shall inherit the power. That was my first encounter with Lara Sylvio, Clover's lovely and voluptuous secretary. She is going to be mine. I have her. l id never had such strong feelings for anybody or anything as I had for Lara. Her skin and lips made me feel as though there was something missing in this world, and she filled it in. I wanted Lara to the bone, and I'd make her mine for the rest of my life, not just for one night. A mafia is always a Mafia.

"You called me a spoiled princess who wouldn't last five minutes in the real world." "You hacked my team's group chat and sent my rookie hazing photos to the entire athletic department." Ivy Chen and Nate Callahan have history. Bad history. So when a reality TV show, a brother's scholarship, and one NHL reputation crisis collapses them into the same luxury off-campus house, fake dating, shared bed, live cameras it should be simple. Pretend. Survive. Walk away. Except Ivy already knows something she can't unknow: her anonymous 2 a.m. best friend, the one she's been trading secrets and stupid hockey memes with for months, the one who feels like the safest person she's never met is him. Nate. Her brother's grumpy, broody, insufferable captain. The guy who stress-bakes at midnight after losses. Who has a hidden playlist of cheesy 2000s power ballads. Who looks at her sometimes like she's not a problem to solve anymore. "This isn't real," she reminds herself daily. The staged touches say otherwise. Because somewhere between sharp barbs softening into playful teasing, stolen kisses that linger way past necessary, and quiet unguarded moments the cameras never quite catch the list of reasons she can't stand him stops growing. Then comes the night after overtime, Nate still in his game-day suit, eyes warm in the low kitchen light. "So what happens when the cameras stop rolling?" His thumb brushes her jaw. Soft. Certain. "Who said we're stopping?" One semester. One championship run. One expiration date. Neither of them is counting down anymore.

The new intern always claimed to have the company’s best interests at heart, but her actions told a different story. To cut costs, she secretly swapped the two-thousand-dollar gift basket I had prepared for a client with a knockoff version she bought online for just two dollars, shipping included. During a critical overtime session, she turned off the power to save on electricity. Then, she boldly suggested canceling the company’s annual holiday leave. With a self-righteous expression, she declared, “The company doesn’t support freeloaders. I believe the holiday season is the perfect time to boost sales. I propose everyone work unpaid overtime and dedicate themselves selflessly to the company!” While the employees grumbled in frustration, I stepped up to refute her absurd suggestion and spoke out on behalf of the team. But instead of backing down, she accused me of embezzlement in front of everyone and recommended to the boss that I be fired. The shocking part? The boss agreed. Fine. If that was how they wanted it, I couldn’t wait to see how the company would function without me.

During the award ceremony at our annual dinner, my boss, Hank Reid, suddenly announced an impromptu addition to the agenda. “Annual department competition! The department that ranked last has to come up and receive a little award of motivation!” The screen lit up. They scrolled through all the departments’ results. The sales department got first place, the operations department got second place, and the marketing department got third place. However, there was nothing from the administration department. That was because the administration department did not have KPIs. Hank smiled at us. “Let’s welcome our colleagues from the administration department to come up and receive their awards!” Two of my colleagues carried a whole basket of brooms onto the stage. Everyone was laughing. “You should sweep away your bad luck from last year. Let’s hope you won’t get last place again next year!” Hank personally passed the brooms to all of us. Cameras flashed as people took photos of us with their phones. The sales department was laughing the loudest. “Finally, the administration department has some recognition!”