So Dumb Jokes

Everybody is different. May it be with the way you look, your sexual orientation or your beliefs and culture. Tori Kingstein has always thought of herself as someone who’s different. She never liked boys. Yes, she's gay. Tori then was sent to her mum’s old school, an all-girls boarding school in hopes of her not getting herself a boyfriend at a young age. But jokes on her parents, cause she actually swings the other way around. And little did she know that entering Whistler High School for Girls would put her on a mission with other girls, like her who aren’t white, to end the discrimination, inequality, too much use of white privileges and the use of wealth and power to stay on top by some students, especially by the school's student council officers. After knowing this, Tori is set on finishing her mum's past role in this group—and that is to destroy the unfair treatment of the school and the student council to students who what they call “aren’t white and as rich as them”, but Tori has a secret. It’s just that... She might have a tiny bit of crush on the student council's president who's no other than Amelia Harriet Williams. What could go wrong, right?

They say society looks down on divorced women, especially those who are no longer “beautiful” in its eyes but Amara doesn’t care. After ten years of being the perfect wife, enduring whispers about her looks, the cruel jokes about her weight, and the constant reminders from her husband that she’s “not beautiful enough,” she’s done. Her husband not only cheats on her… he moves his pregnant mistress into their marital home and flaunts her like a prize. When Amara asks for a divorce, he vows to destroy her. Promising to make her life so miserable she’ll come crawling back. But he’s wrong because Amara would rather die than return to him. In her search for a way out, she crosses paths with Lucian Rostova. He's dangerous. Ruthless and filthy rich. Lucian offers her a deal: he’ll help her ruin her ex-husband and his mistress if she agrees to marry him for one year. With her back against the wall, Amara says yes. But deals with the devil always come with a price. Will Lucian truly protect her like he promises… or will he crush her and leave her bleeding out in the cold?

He smirked, knowing he was on the winning side. "So it's a done deal for three months?" He raised his eyebrows, putting his hand forth for a handshake. I looked at the long fingers and perfectly aligned nails and then at his patient face. Sighing to myself I my own hand into his and ignored the tingles that flowed through every nerve as his fingers curled around my hand and shook it lightly. "Yeah three months." "Goodnight then." He winked, removing his hand from mine and turned to walk away. "Hey wait!" I called out, suddenly remembering something. "You don't have my number." "What makes you think that? I have my ways Smith." And with one last wink I saw him take a turn and disappear from my sight. I let out a long breath, leaning on the nearby wall. Looks like I just made a deal with the Devil. * A sarcastic girl, a cocky guy. Throw in some mystery, murder, filthy jokes, wonderful friends, tons of kisses, secrets, surprises, eye-rolls and a killer on run. And you have got yourself a story never read before. ***So grab a cup of hot chocolate, some chips and a warm blanket and get ready to laugh, cry and bite your lip in anticipation. Enjoy!!

The prophecy has been told. A Tribrid will be born to slaught*er every people who oppose with its rule. She will be the queen of all, and every person who will go against her will not only lost his life, but will also burn his soul. Every races was threatened, thus, they made one cruel rule: No Tribrid shall be born. However, few years later, an omega from Shadow pack made a disturbance with its destructive power that trembled everyone. But no one had found where the Tribrid girl after the incident. They were restless. They need to find the tribid and kill it before everything became too late. One the other hand, Sidrich was oblivious of the destructive power within her. Being abused and slaved her whole life, it was hard for her to trust someone again. But meeting the second prince of Sharmai empire, Prince Alastair, Sidrich found herself trusting the prince instantly. His flirtatious remarks, his corny jokes, and his undying devotion to protect Sidrich at all cost beyond everything and everyone made the latter feel safe and comfortable towards the prince. Amidst of all chaos and chasing, the two fought for their love that has never been permissible. However, happiness comes with a price. With enemies trying to find and kill the tribrid, could the two of them would be able to fight until the end of all the havoc?

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

"Just join me for a drink perhaps?" Her bushy brows rose suggestively at me. She knew my answer, she knew what I'd say. I grabbed the bottle off her scrawny hands and said "You know, for a one time thing, this has become a regular." To be honest, I was actually looking forward to meeting up with her. Not that I was going to admit it to her face. "Like therapy sessions from two dumb, ill-favored kids. Who are trying to give each other easing words." She was right. Though her stumbled movements indicated a slight intoxication. Suddenly, out of the awkward moment, she looked up at me with a sad smile and said. "I might be a street girl but is it too bad to wish for a normal life? Go to proms? Have new clothes? Shelter? Love? Do I not deserve?" Her teary eyes searched deep into my soul. I was unaware of the lack of distance between us. When did we get so close with barely an inch barrier? "Flare..." that was all I could say because then all I could feel were soft lips against mine. Her lips! And it felt so nice. Subconsciously, I grabbed her little body and went for another kiss, this time, a deeper kiss.

“Why do you suddenly want out of this marriage? Who the fuck are you screwing, you dumb bitch?!” “I'm not screw-” I tried to explain, but he was already on me and I screamed as he dragged me up by my neck, his hand so tight on my throat I couldn’t breathe. “Who is it?!” he growled. “Who the fuck would dare!” ---- In a world absent the mate bond, alliances were formed through blood, power, and betrayal rather than fate. Makena Blackwell was born into the mafia's lowest-ranking position, promised at birth to a powerful heir in exchange for her family's survival. She was ready to marry him. But he was ready to destroy her. On the night she was meant to die, however, something impossible happened. A man rose from the icy steel trays of her father’s morgue. He was a stranger, with no memory, no name, and no pulse. And when their gazes met, fate spoke the word they never expected to hear in their lifetime, echoing so loudly in their souls it shook the very fabric of their being. “Mate!” The man the world left for dead wasn’t just anyone; he was the dread every mafia house feared, and he was hers. She was promised to a prince of power… but fate gave her the king of the dead.

My parents made Dana and me settle it with rock-paper-scissors. Loser had to marry the Baillieu heir—the so-called "freak." I won. Then flipped the script. "Cool. I'll take Blake. Dana can have the empire." Last time? I was dumb in love with Michael—Dad's adopted golden boy. Chose the company, stayed behind, and handed Dana off to Blake Baillieu. Big mistake. Six months in, Dana was gone—wrecked by that marriage. Right before she croaked, she texted Michael blaming me. Said I lost the game and ditched the deal, dumping Blake on her. Michael? Snapped. Dude went full psycho. Turns out, he and Dana had been sneaking around for years. He dragged me behind the Baillieu estate and forced a dozen intellectually disabled men to assault me. "If it weren't for your cruelty, Dana would still be alive! You'll pay for everything she suffered!" I was over eight months pregnant—almost due. Begged him to stop. Begged for my baby's life. He didn't care. Kept ordering them to take turns. Even when my water broke, he just watched. Both my baby and I died that night. Now? I'm back. And this time, I rewrote the story. Step one: marry Blake.

"How can you miss a spot? Oh you are such a dummy. I can't believe my brother is married to you." Bella rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was trash. "Yea, even I'm surprised you're my wife." Alec stepped in, tall And handsome he was. If only he wasn't always so cold like this. "You're too dumb, all the time letting my mother and sister speak to you like that. I wonder when you'll ever stand up for yourself." "Can we talk, in private?" I said as polite as I could. Alec just looked me with disgust and shrugged. "Well, good night everyone. I'm off to this fancy hotel to have a gooood night!" He said, ignoring me. I hated that he did that, but I just wished I had the boldness to correct him and teach him to treat me right. "I hope you bring home a new girl. This one expired 3 years ago." Lolita said. "Mom, I married her three years ago." Alec said and they all bursted out in laughter.

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."