Shawn Mendes Imagination Lyrics

I, Cassidy Stanford, am on a graduation trip with my childhood best friend, Randell Lautner. Just as we plan to return home, he suddenly extends my hotel stay for another week. When I want to ask him why, a barrage of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Run, Randy! Don't let Cassidy stop you anymore! Don't you know that Evie did poorly in her exams, and she's about to be married off to a random bald guy by her own parents? Run! It's urgent! Go save her now!" "That's right! If it weren't for that wicked woman using her childhood friendship bond to manipulate Randy the whole time, Randy and Evie would have been together a long time ago! Cassidy is such a horrible person!" "In the original story, Cassidy cried and threw a huge fuss after finding out that Randy was leaving her. She even threatened suicide to make him stay with her, which ultimately caused poor Evie to be forced into marrying Baldy! And Randy hated her so much after that he began getting revenge on her! "Hah, just wait and see, Cassidy! She will soon get what she deserves! Randy will eventually torture her until she turns into a madwoman! It's going to be so satisfying!" "That's a pity, though. I know that we're just following the script here and that Randy eventually has his revenge, but I really, really hate the evil side character so much! Cassidy was the one who ruined Evie's life! Who does she think she is?" Me? The evil side character? While I am still confused by everything, I suddenly receive a text message from Randell. "Cassie, I have an urgent matter, and I need to leave first. But don't worry. I've already extended your hotel stay for another week. "Behave yourself and don't kick up a fuss with me." What?

One day, a wealthy couple is invited to give a speech at my university. My childhood sweetheart, Henry McGregor, tugs me along, eager for us to sneak out to the cafeteria and do some part-time work. He tells me to go grab the empty bucket from the shelf. But just as I take a step, a flood of messages suddenly appears in front of my eyes. [Don't touch that bucket! It's filled with scalding soup that Henry prepared. He wants to ruin your face!] [Three years ago, Henry had his first love impersonate you, becoming the long-lost daughter of the Wright family. Now, he plans to disfigure you so you'll never be able to return.] [You'll endure severe burns all over your body and undergo countless skin grafts. In the end, the fake heiress will poison you by swapping your medicine.] [Meanwhile, that scumbag will marry into the Wright family. Along with the impostor, they'll drain the Wrights of everything they have.] [You need to go back right now and let Mrs. Wright see your face. This is your only chance to reclaim your rightful place as their daughter!] At that moment, I hear Henry urging me again to hurry and move the bucket. As I glance at the flood of messages once more, I freeze, stopping dead in my tracks.

On the day we were to choose our magical guardians, my sister laid claim to the griffin's egg, leaving the serpent's egg to me. She boasted that, as the trueborn daughter of the queen and the eldest princess, she was destined to become the chosen heir. However, her griffin egg never hatched, what stumbled out was nothing more than a pitiful turkey. My serpent egg, however, nurtured by the waters of the enchanted spring, awakened into a true white wyvern. When I was named heir to the throne, my sister raised a cup in celebration, only to poison me with the wine and end my life. I opened my eyes again at the moment of choosing. This time, my sister snatched away my serpent egg, shattered the griffin's before my eyes, and imprisoned me on a distant isle: determined that I would witness her glory as the chosen of the white wyvern and heir to the crown. Yet when the white wyvern cracked its shell, destiny shifted. I bound myself instead to the Titan Ape, a beast mighty enough to bring the wyvern to its knees.

On the day I was in heat, my childhood sweetheart stood me up. He only sent me a voice message, which said, “Willow, what do you mean you’re in heat? You’re just desperate for a man. Have some self-respect. Stop calling me!” Just as my fever spiked, pushing me to the edge of delirium, spectators watching my story flooded my vision with comments. [Sweetie, there are plenty of fish in the sea! Don’t be sad!] [Honey, look who’s walking in front of you. It’s Douglas Simus, the university heartthrob. He has the whole V-line and abs package, and he’s still a pure virgin boy!] Who? A V-line and abs? He should probably be able to satisfy me then. I struggled to open my eyes and saw a handsome man appear. Not bad. He smelled clean. I stopped him. “Do you want to hook up with me?”

I am a pureblood succubus. Every seven days, desire consumes me. Stuart Newlin always complained that I clung to him too much, that I distracted him from his grand ambitions. Then, at the peak of my heat, when I needed him most, he blew me off. He chose to go to his female friend's prenatal appointment instead. The thing is, a succubus can't survive without being fed. Without that energy, that devotion… I wither. Unfortunate as it was to fall into the hands of a neglectful master, I had no choice but to seek another. My new keeper bore the bloodline of the Black Serpent. He had double the virility. Night and day, he poured himself into me. He worked tirelessly; I was more than satisfied. So when Stuart showed up with a massive bouquet of red roses, hoping to coax me back, what greeted him was the sight of me, flushed and glowing, curled up in another man's arms. His eyes burned with rage as he went mad, smashing everything in the house, raging that I was unfaithful, that I dared take another man to my bed. Smiling, I leaned into my new master's embrace and introduced them. "Let me make the introductions. You two have more in common than you think. After all, I've slept with both of you."

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

When I woke up, I had somehow become trapped in the body of my disobedient daughter. I had sacrificed everything, living frugally to send her to the best school. Yet, she called me almost daily, claiming—like someone trapped in a paranoid delusion—that her teachers and classmates were out to harm her. She was willful and rebellious, picky about food, befriending the wrong crowd, and even dating a troublemaker at a young age. As a sister, she was far from kind, constantly bullying her younger brother. And school? Surely, it couldn’t be harder than working a full-time job. But then, as I lived in her shoes, a group of girls cornered me in the restroom, kicking me mercilessly. Returning home, I was met not with care but with a sorry excuse for a meal. Only then did I begin to understand the pain my daughter had endured...

My child-free husband went back to his hometown for a funeral, and after he returned, he suddenly wanted me to have a baby. He was one of the best obgyns in the state, so he handled my IVF procedure himself. After more than 160 hormone shots, we finally heard the baby’s rhythmic heartbeats for the first time, which made my usually calm husband tear up. Soon, he tightened every part of my routine, from a strict diet to my schedule, and once my belly started showing, he barely let me get out of bed. I thought he was just being overly protective. But then, right by my ear, I heard a nasty little boy’s voice. [Which player starts their mission inside the womb? And she’s not even my mom!] [Just four more months. My dad will make sure she dies on the operating table so he can keep only his son.] [After that, he’ll bring my real mom back, and my mission will be complete!] I canceled my afternoon checkup immediately as soon as I heard this. Did the system forget to tell him that he wasn’t the only player in this world?

According to my mother, the men who were loved by the daughters of the Granger family were blessed with fortune beyond belief. In exchange, however, the women of our family were cursed with short lives, not being able to live past the age of 30. Only by having their husbands willingly agree to share their lifespans with them on their wedding day could they return to normal. I didn't want to die young, so I started picking out a husband ever since I was a child. I saved the brooding young boy next-door who was being bullied. I stayed by his side as he went from rags to riches, becoming one of the rising stars of the business world. On the day of our marriage, however, he abandoned me at the altar and went straight to his first love, the woman who used to bully him in the past. While I was searching for a new husband, he had the gall to threaten me with his status. "Penelope, don't push it. You're really testing my patience." Little did he know that he only had his fame and fortune because of me.

A doomsday blizzard hit just before Christmas. The zombie virus exploded. Our fortress was a top-tier ski resort. Now, it was about to fall. My husband, Ethan, was a former Navy SEAL. Our head of security. He swore his defense system was foolproof. The blizzard knocked out the power. But he’d sent all the backup generator fuel to the summit. Just to light up a Christmas tree for Chloe. He even had a few guards up there with them, throwing a party. In my last life, I fought him. I herded everyone into the last bunker. But Chloe whined. A crowded Christmas was boring, she said. She stormed out of the safe room and ran right into the jaws of the horde. Ethan carved a path through the horde to secure the walls. Then he sat in silence, cradling Chloe’s bones. He pretended he wanted to start over with me. He let me get pregnant with his child. The day I gave birth, he knocked me unconscious and dumped me into a nearby zombie nest. He always rescued me just before I died. He’d inject me with a serum that kept me from turning. Nineteen times, he threw me to the zombies. I died in agony as they tore the flesh from my bones. "If you hadn't sabotaged my defenses," he’d hissed, "if you hadn't crashed our party and led the horde right to us, Chloe would still be alive!" I opened my eyes. I was back. Christmas Eve.