Comedy Imagination 短篇故事與小說

Five years into my quest to conquer the male lead, Patrick Suede forgot my birthday once again. Instead, the villainess texted me, “So what if it’s your birthday? He came crawling to me at the snap of my fingers. For once, I didn’t take the System’s suggestion to break down. I replied, “Thank you. You’re the only one who remembered my birthday today.” The response back was a big question mark. My phone kept going off with notifications. “Seriously. Were you meant to send that to someone else? “Are you for real? That’s kind of sad. “What do you want for your birthday? “Forget it. I’m coming over. Since you can’t eat mangoes, I’ll get you a strawberry cake. “Honestly, you’re a handful.” … When my doorbell rang, I grinned at the System. “The mission is to romance the main character of this world. You never said it had to be a guy.”

My serpent husband lost his memory and insisted on a divorce. He couldn't believe that someone of his status, the rarest purebred serpent alive, would ever marry a human. "Ms. Cassandra, I'm sorry, but I'd appreciate your cooperation in having the mate mark removed." "The billion is compensation. No need to return it." Hearing that, I actually felt relieved. I mean, sure, my husband was gorgeous and filthy rich… But he had two dicks! And each one was so huge. It was just too much. After the divorce, if I ever look for another husband... I would definitely find someone a bit gentler, the kind where just one is plenty!

Everyone said Finley Floyd was a total family man. His dad had been dead for twenty years, and he still found him a wife. Then he started calling me—someone two years younger than him—"Mommy." Yeah. My hand slipped. I accidentally assigned the affection points to the wrong role. And somehow, Finley really believed I was his mother. When I told him—again—that I wasn't his mom, he snapped. He yanked me into his arms and buried his face against me. "You are Mommy!"

After I got a billion-dollar client drunk, I forced him to sign a contract that gave us better terms. He was then rushed to the ER. After that, I walked into the CEO's office with my legs shaking, holding my resignation letter. "Mr. Blake, I blacked out from drinking last night, lost control, and offended an important client. I'll take responsibility and resign immediately. I won't drag the company into this!" I wanted to leave as soon as possible before the Legal Department sued me and took everything I owned. The cold and distant CEO, Adrian Blake, pulled out his fountain pen with a dark expression. The next second, I never expected that I heard his thoughts wildly screaming in my head. "Damn! This woman is my lucky star! I'm someone with severe social anxiety who wants to hide the moment I see people. I was almost cornered by those ruthless businessmen! Not only did she take several drinks for me, but she also grabbed that guy by the collar and forced him to lower the contract price by 20%! But I'm the cold and untouchable CEO of a multinational company. I can't just beg her to attend every business dinner for me forever, can I?" I saw Adrian's face become tense, and a hidden excitement flashed in his eyes. I quickly grabbed my resignation letter, tore it apart, and said, "Mr. Blake, I know I made a mistake. Please let me redeem myself. From now on, I can attend all those business dinners for you!"

My name is Mabel Lloyd, and I make a barely decent living repairing household appliances. Two weeks ago, on a night when the rain came down heavily, I found a soaking-wet stranger huddled outside my apartment building. He was ridiculously handsome, an incredible cook and had only one glaring flaw — he was painfully shy. Whenever anyone asked his name, he would blush so hard his ears turned bright red, then stand there in complete silence, unable to get a single word out. I could not bring myself to leave him out in the rain, so I rented him the spare storage room in my apartment. Everything was fine. Until today. I heard knocking at my door and, when I went over to check who it was, the building manager was standing there with three men in black suits. The one in front flashed a badge, his expression unreadable. "Routine inspection. Bureau of Supernatural Affairs. "We have reason to believe an unregistered fox shifter may be hiding on these premises." Before I could even process what he had said, a loud clang rang out from the kitchen as a frying pan hit the floor. The very next second, my painfully shy tenant cautiously peeked around the kitchen door. A pair of fluffy white fox ears twitched nervously on top of his head and, when he spoke, his voice shook so badly it sounded like a washing machine caught in the spin cycle. "Mabel... don't open the door. They're here to drag me home for an arranged marriage."

Julian Hart had me move into his basement so he could trample on my dignity whenever he pleased. What he didn’t know was that I had transmigrated from the real world into the novel. When Julian insulted me, I endured it without talking back. When he slapped me, I licked his palm. When his first love stepped on me with her high heel to assert her dominance, I told her that the scent of her perfume reached me before the pain did. A year later, Julian was so disgusted by me that he almost knelt down and begged me to keep my distance from them. But there was no way I was leaving. I hadn’t come to tear them apart. I had come to join them.

There are three things I despise: missed deadlines, office enablers, and Timothy Cullen’s dimpled smirk. But after a gala collision, I wake up trapped inside his broad frame while he panics in my heels! Worse, a mysterious glowing note demands an unthinkable task: “To return to your body, you must kiss Timothy Cullen.” I’d rather swallow rusted thumbtacks, but in the long run would these bitter corporate enemies surrender their pride for real romance?