Spongebob Box Imagination Novels & Stories

I've gotten bound to the exchange system three times in a row. In my previous lifetime, when Mom found out about it, she demanded that I swap my healthy body with Erica Jenkins, my disfigured younger sister. During my high school years, I threw myself into my studies while forced to endure the pressure caused by my partial blindness and my classmates' mockery. Even after I managed to become the top student of the state with my SAT scores, Mom forced me to swap my results with Erica. Some time later, Mom tricked me into exchanging my identity with a rich scion who had committed atrocious crimes. Because of that, I was imprisoned and later on, sentenced to death. Meanwhile, Mom and Erica lived happily ever after thanks to the wealth they had accumulated from my exchanges. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I get bound to the exchange system.

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

While inspecting my company’s cold-chain operations, my wife, Mandy Snow, and the college boy, Jonas Leedon, who I’d been sponsoring suddenly vanished. As I passed the cabinet storing the research supplies, a stream of floating comments suddenly flashed before my eyes. [That was way too close! Jeff Miller almost caught them. Good thing Mandy reacted fast and dragged her boy toy into the storage cabinet.] [But that cabinet is about to be locked up and shipped to the Antarctic research station. Are those two trying to turn themselves into ice sculptures?] I froze. My wife was cheating on me right under my nose? I was just about to pull open the cabinet door when my wife’s assistant, Patrick, hurried over and forced a smile, blocking my way. “Mr. Miller, the seal on this cabinet was just waxed and hasn’t dried yet. Careful, or you’ll get your hands dirty.” The floating comments appeared again. [That was so close! The assistant’s pretty sharp. Once Mandy gets out, she totally owes him a car.] [No wonder she’s the lucky heroine. She always gets out of trouble. I seriously can’t wait to watch her sweet romance with her boy toy.] Looking at the comments in front of me, I let out a cold laugh. “These are critical supplies for the research team. To make sure nothing goes wrong, seal the cabinet right now.” “Go get a welder. Weld the door shut.” The assistant froze, and so did the floating comments. [What the hell? This evil male character is brutal. The two people inside aren’t wearing a thing.] [Help! If the door gets welded shut, the male and female leads are going to drift at sea for a month and freeze into specimens!]

On Alaric's wedding day, I brought a gift to the wedding feast. I had barely taken my seat when someone swung straight at my face. Alaric's bride, a transmigrator who called herself an expert in noble-household intrigue, glared at me in her wedding gown. "So you're the prince's former betrothed? How does a defeated rival still have the nerve to show up at the wedding feast? Have you no shame?" A palace maid caught her hand before the slap landed, and I studied her with a dark expression. Before I could speak, Lydia of House Leicester mocked me again. "What? Are you going to say you only came to offer your blessings? I grew up watching period dramas. Don't think I don't know what filthy thoughts a medieval woman like you is hiding. "You came here pretending to congratulate us while planning to ruin the wedding feast and make the prince change his mind, didn't you? Too bad Alaric promised me that I would be his only wife for life. Even if you were to strip naked and stand in front of him, he wouldn't touch you!" Then she raised her brow at the women behind her. The noblewomen and ladies who were friendly with her surrounded me, scorn on their faces. Then they reached out to slap me. "Exactly, you wench! How dare you provoke Princess Lydia? We'll make you pay for it today!" The courtyard fell into chaos. Insults and jeers came one after another. Just as the women were about to grab my hair, the chief steward Edwin quickly stood in front of me and shouted, "Enough! I would like to see who dares to show disrespect to the Grand Princess of this realm, Her Royal Highness Princess Sophia!"

Silas Jordan drew lots, which resulted in me being chosen as his wife. He hated me for getting his childhood sweetheart killed. Hence, he tortured me to death. But after I died, deep remorse overwhelmed him. After I returned to the past, I first rigged the lottery to help him get together with his childhood lover. However, there were endless new comments on the screen. They were from readers of the novel I was trapped in. [Based on the plot, the male lead will pick the female lead. Then, the male lead’s childhood lover will kill herself. When the female lead gets tortured to death, the male lead starts regretting it. But why would this miserable novel change when the female lead rigged the lottery?] It was because I no longer wished to marry him again.

Lately, buying succubi and incubi online had become all the rage. I could not afford one, so I picked one up from the side of the road instead. It turned out the quality of this incubus left a lot to be desired. Not only did he have a terrible temper, but he showed absolutely no interest in me. He would rather starve than "feed". Left with no other options, I snapped a photo of his incubus mark and sent it to the shop owner, asking how to handle this particular model. The shop owner completely lost it. "Oh my god, please tell me you're joking! That's not an incubus! That's a demon! The most dangerous kind!"

My older sister, Scarlet Dawson, is an absolute saint with a savior complex. When the apocalyptic heatwave hits us, she gives out water to our neighbors, food to strangers, and even invites her boyfriend's entire family to live with us. When our supplies are finally depleted, Scarlet actually considers selling me off to a perverted old man in exchange for supplies to look after her boyfriend, Marcus Crosby. I promptly pull out my stun gun and knock her unconscious. Then, I hand her straight to the perverted old man instead. I go back to my villa, where the temperature is constantly kept at 60°F, and enjoy a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream under the air conditioning. Not only that, but my villa is stocked with enough supplies to last me for the next few decades!

The first thing I do after being reborn is dump my devoted boyfriend and immediately say yes to the obsessive man's pursuit. In my past life, my so-called best friend, Sarah Cole, bound herself to an app that could transfer all of my boyfriend's love for me to her. My boyfriend was Luke Spencer. The golden roses he prepared for me ended up with her. The hotel he bought for me suddenly had her name on the deed. The way he looked at me shifted from fierce desire to cold disdain, but when he turned to her, his eyes overflowed with the tenderness I once knew so well. When I cried and demanded to know why Luke had changed, he just looked at me with disgust as he spat, "We broke up a long time ago. Leave my girlfriend alone!" On my birthday, Sarah went live online, flaunting how Luke had rented out the entire amusement park for her. Fireworks lit up the sky behind her in a blaze of color. And me? They worked together to have me thrown into a mental hospital. They called me a crazy woman obsessed with someone who never loved me back, and in endless rounds of electroshock therapy and forced medication, I died in despair. When I open my eyes again, I'm reborn. This time, I no longer feel anything real for my ex-boyfriend. Instead, I play along with Ethan Grant. I find it funny when Sarah opens the app again, siphoning away every drop of Ethan's overwhelming love. I really want to know if she can handle it.

My sister and I transmigrated into a savage beastman world where females were terrifyingly scarce. For the sake of reproduction, the Grand Druid allowed us to take our pick of mates first. Whoever gave birth to a child first, her husband would be crowned the Beast King. My sister, Chloe, was power-hungry. She immediately claimed Lucius, the noble and devastatingly handsome Merfolk Prince. I chose Bjorn, a werewolf guard who seemed honest and loyal. Chloe mated with Lucius, but she gave birth to two deformed half-merfolk pups, making her the laughingstock of the horde. Lucius was sadistic by nature and beat her constantly, while Bjorn treated me with the utmost care. After I gave birth to our first child, he successfully ascended to the Beast King's throne and crowned me as his supreme Queen, revered by all beasts. Chloe went mad with jealousy. At my Queen's coronation, she drove a poisoned dagger straight through my heart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we chose our mates. Chloe rushed forward and latched onto Bjorn's arm. "Elena, this time, the Queen's throne is mine." I instantly realized that she had been reborn, too. I looked toward the small, reddish-brown wyvern huddled in the corner. "I choose him."