Contests Novels & Stories

The interaction between these two people would definitely result in sparks, and Alton could take advantage of the situation and reap some benefits from it. “Well, I think we can put this aside. Let’s start the contest!” At Alton’s command, the contestants went on stage. Alton had prepared all the pill furnaces and herbs for the contest. “Each person will receive two sets of materials. Failure will result in disqualification.” Alton announced the rules of the contest, which were clearly quite lacking. Under normal circumstances, each participant should receive at least five sets of materials, but Alton was only willing to provide two sets.

Then there was a bold writing by the side, which read; Writing contest for High school Students. Winner of the contest gets a free trip to France. You must be between the age sixteen and nineteen to be able to participate in this contest. Deadline: 26th of July, 2020 Visit: elixirwritingcontest@gmail.com to register for the contest and to enquire for more information. "How am I even supposed to participate in a writing contest when I can't even update my story during the week? Besides do you think parents would even let me go to France by myself?"

God why is she so much annoying, I frowned. “Did you really going to complete the challenge?” “How will you make Maaya fall for you?’ “Do you need any assistance?” “Robin told me about your bet with him, he is telling everyone about your challenge now”, now it’s about your prestige what would you do Amanda? And then it hit me like a high tide wave. It wasn’t a dream, it was all real and I fucking accept the challenge. Oh Gosh, I was supposed to make Maaya fall in love and sleep with her then break her tiny heart to make her life miserable. What the fuck I did?

I scrolled down and started reading the article. 'A curious announcement from the royal house of Medora, a kingdom north of Scotland. The king announced today that a contest will be held to find the crown prince a wife. Medora is known to be secluded, with not much news coming in and out of the country. They announced a test will be put online for whoever has any interest in becoming a queen. It does not matter what your nationality is, as long as you are above eighteen years old.'

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He is just like a fox who cannot eat a bunch of ripe, succulent grapes on the tree, comforting himself with "sour grapes, no need." The initial rules for the walking competition were that only fast walking was allowed, but the race was only halfway through. No one remembers what the rules are. If you can walk then walk, if you can run then run. Even playing dirty tricks like "hugging the other person" and "nudging the butt" to get ahead. People don't really pay attention to the rules of the game. The main goal is to create happiness. When coming to the goal, the children still continued to argue who won.

My hands were shaking lightly. Dorcas took a deep breath. “The final contest is in two days,” she said. I looked up at her. “You’ll be going with Liora.” “Mum, no,” I said immediately. “You know I can’t. Derek and his people will probably be there.” “I know,” Dorcas said firmly. “In fact, he’s been honoring that contest with his presence since the first day. Always sitting in front, cheering that little girl called Phoebe.”

I said and they all nodded. “I’ll take care of the invite myself, when is the contest going to be held?” Lady Lena asked. “In two days,” I blurted out, some gasped, I knew that wasn’t enough time to prepare the fighters who had no inkling they’d even be fighting to begin with. “That’s fast, but I guess it could work,” Lady Lena said, “excuse me, I better get to inviting all neighboring alphas,” she said, I nodded at her to go ahead and she walked out of the courtroom.

'Paragon annual designing contest' I halted, slowly scrolling through my phone. "Paragon is hosting a contest?" I muttered, my eyes scanning through every words displayed on my phone. It was a contest where talented designers upload their designs, and the best design with the highest audience votes wins cash price, dress of the year, and a percent of the sales of the dress. For a second, I thought of giving it a try, but as I scrolled through the number of people that already applied with their work, and some of them being celebrities who had won the contest three times in three years, I lost the spark. Will I even get a chance to win anything?

His posture was too stiff, his fists clenched too tightly. Great. Now I’d probably put his mother in trouble. Trying to shake the guilt, I focused back on the task at hand — the so-called “concubine contest.” Sevrin announced each round, making it sound far more formal than it was. The women competed in various tests — etiquette, wit, combat skill (yes, actual sparring), and even how they handled stressful questions. I found myself growing oddly invested.