The Game at Carousel: A Horror Movie LitRPG - Chapter 60Book Five, : Carousel Family Video

With a marriage contract forcefully done, he married her, and all she could do was comply, and resent him deeply for that and for all the following misunderstandings they faced, and she understood too late she loved him.

But after a life of misfortunes, she’s reborn to the very beginning, the day he told her they were married, and she was determined to cherish him in her second life!

Lin Mu Mu’s life goal is to : grow flowers and plants, and take care of Yun Ting.

Yun Ting’s life principles are : Love Lin Mumu, Love Lin Mumu, Love Lin Mumu!

- Description from Novelupdates

He has won the most flamboyant compliments and the most vicious swear words.

He is a guy with rebellion flowing in every vein in his body.

He’s a white kid who’ll never be a celebrity.

He is a young man from the countryside in the eyes of the public.

He’s Tommy Hawk.

He was born again.

Welcome to the first half of the American Dream and the second half of the American Nightmare.

Let us please, come Tommy Hawke, in the winter of 2022.

- Description from novelbuddy

[Fishing novel, light-hearted daily life, welcome everyone to enjoy reading]Chu Mingcheng, who was nearly thirty, encountered workplace PUA. Working overtime not only meant no extra pay, but also his date for a prearranged blind date had run off.Returning to his coastal hometown to clear his mind, he unexpectedly discovered a mountain of mud shrimp on the beach and accidentally awakened a “Golden Finger.”[Currently unlocked methods of capture: Hand, Fishing Rod][Mud Shrimp, also known as Mantis Shrimp (Level 18)][Current Experience: 0/190][Size +19%][Deliciousness +19%][Capture Probability +19%]...“Go to work? That's just wasting my life.”“Date me? Beauty, I only fish, I don't raise fish!”Conquering the ocean, fishing for crocodiles, venturing into the Amazon; wherever there's water, there's the figure of Chu Mingcheng.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.