Help Write A Story

My name is Addison Calder. During my first heat as an adult werewolf, Morgan Flint suddenly announces that he wants to end things. I can't stop crying—not from a broken heart but because the torment of my mating cycle is consuming me from within. Gripping his sleeve tightly, I lean closer, attempting to kiss away the tension. Impatient, Morgan shoves me toward his older brother, Tucker Flint. "Hey, Tucker. Addie's drunk and losing it. Can you help calm her down?" As Tucker steps forward, Morgan leans in and whispers, "Keep an eye on her. Don't let any other men get close. I'm only breaking up with her for now. Once I'm done fooling around, I'll get back together with her." Tucker nods and gently lifts me into the car. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he says softly. Overwhelmed by the pain, I clutch his tie with tears streaming down my face. "Please… Help me," I plead. Tucker's pupils contract, his voice low and hoarse. "And how exactly do you want me to help you?" In a flash, I lean in and press my lips to his. "Kiss me… or let me kiss you." Our passionate kiss melts away much of the tension gnawing at me. Noticing Tucker's reddened ears, I grab his tie once more. "Will you take me home?"

My sister discovers that she resembles a CEO's true love. To take her place, she invites the true love out. She wants to orchestrate an accident to kill the woman. I arrive before it can happen and put a stop to the whole shebang. On our way home, I try to talk sense into her. Julian Stewart singlehandedly built his empire and is ruthless. He'll eventually see through her tricks, which will land our whole family in hot water. She nods in agreement. However, when we get home, she laces my drink with poison. When I'm on the brink of death, she whispers, "You're just jealous because I have a face that can help me marry a rich man. I'll ruin you since you've stood in my way." When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day she meets Julian's true love.

My three-year-old daughter was playing in the room, and she suddenly fell from the window of the room and died. In my past life, I held her lifeless body after learning the news, crying so hard I thought I would never stop. But when my husband rushed back, he slapped me across the face without a second thought. "How could you be so cruel? You actually threw her out of the window—she was only three!" I was too stunned to react. Later, my husband and my best friend teamed up and testified that I had thrown my daughter from the window because I had an argument with my husband. I was cyberbullied and labeled the "evil mom". Amid the public hatred and the pain of losing my daughter, I jumped to prove my innocence. Even in death, I still didn't understand. My daughter had been fine playing in the room—how did she fall out of the window? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she fell.

On the fifth year of their marriage, finding the vitamin C her husband bought tasted too bitter, Jeanne Dotson went to the hospital with the bottle. The doctor took one look and frowned. "This isn't vitamin C." "I-I'm sorry, Doctor?" "I could say it a dozen times and it'd still be the same," the doctor replied, pointing at the bottle. "This is Mifepristone. Taking too much of it doesn't just cause infertility—it can do serious harm to your body." Jeanne felt a lump stuck in her throat, and her fingers turned pale from clenching the bottle. "That's impossible. My husband got this for me. His name is Darren Walsh—he's a doctor here too." The doctor looked up at her, his expression turning strange, tinged with something she couldn't quite read. After a pause, he gave a small smile. "Miss, you might want to visit the psych ward instead. We all know Dr. Walsh's wife—she gave birth just two months ago. Don't let your imagination run wild, all right? There's no point."

A year after Easton Carter turns down my 99th proposal, he calls me in the middle of the night, crying like his world's falling apart. He says his grandmother is dying and her last wish is to see him married. He tells me he's finally ready. He's already ordered the dress and booked the venue. But when I show up at the venue in my wedding dress, his friends burst out laughing. "You actually believed that? And you even swapped the cheap dress he ordered for a custom-made one? You're the queen of pathetic!" Then one of them yells, "Look, the groom's side piece showed up to crash the wedding!" "Security, come get this homewrecker!" Guests turn to stare like they're watching a joke unfold. Easton doesn't even look at me. He turns to the woman he loves and says, "I told you I'd ruin this wedding for you. I meant it. If you can't have him, no one will!" She gives him a satisfactory smile. Then, he finally glances at me. "Tina said you did her a favor today. When we get married, you can be the bridesmaid, and you can still spend time with us after that." So, he brought me here just to help his sweetheart ruin her crush's wedding. But when Easton finally looks up at the wedding banner and realizes that I'm the bride, his eyes flare with rage.

When I have a pen in my hand and paper before me, I think I want to write something to cast every despair in my pathetic life away. I have a figure of a depressed guy whose fate is too much: saving the world. He is not stupid nor even smart, he is not ugly nor even good looking. He is just a nijikon (A person who loves an anime character more than the real one) like me. He once thought to give up on life, but an event changes his life. I'm sure you guys start guessing how the story goes, but too bad, this one is different than the others.

The intern secretly submitted a voluntary pay-cut application on my behalf. As a result, my salary dropped from $10,000 to $2,000. When I found out and confronted him, my boss and colleagues all defended him. "The company is not doing great right now. Oscar was just trying to save costs for us. Do you have to nickel-and-dime over this?" With my salary so low, I couldn't afford the special medication for my chronic migraines, and one day I passed out at my desk during an attack. But the intern snuck a video of me unconscious and posted it on the company's website. He even whipped up a detailed 100-page slideshow breaking down how I was slacking off on the clock and dumping all my work on him. Overnight, I was labeled a workplace bully. My boss gave me the cold shoulder, and my colleagues whispered about me. Even worse, some extreme "anti-workplace-bullying" activists tracked me down to my home, showed up with two cans of gasoline, and burned me and my parents alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the intern had submitted my pay-cut form. In this second chance at life, I would make sure everyone saw the intern for who he truly was.

The admissions office calls and says my daughter's admission fee has been paid, asking when I'll come to handle enrollment. I'm completely stunned. My daughter, Natalie Steward, is top of her class. She's already guaranteed a spot in the city's best high school, Dream High School, with no admission fee required. Upon questioning my husband, Arnold Lewiston, he claims the admissions office must've made a mistake. He says, "I just wanted to surprise you, so I pulled some strings with the principal to get her into the accelerated track. You should talk to the teachers and make sure we get the best homeroom teacher so I can look good." As soon as I end the call, I slam the accelerator and head straight to the admissions office. On my way there, I call Lynn Warrens, my best friend who works in the State Department of Education. "Help me check under whose name Arnold paid the admission fee for his illegitimate child. I'm going to withdraw them from the school!" I say.

Just one week into my new job, I was wrongfully accused of cooking the books, and it cost me five years behind bars. After that, my wife found out she was pregnant. She insisted on having the baby and promised to wait for me to come home. Out of gratitude, I threw myself into work after my release. I did everything I could to give them a good life. It was until one day, I overheard a conversation between my wife and our son. “Mom, don’t let Dad come out with us. It’s embarrassing! Why did you pin Mr. Scott’s crime on him back then?! And now, the girl next door keeps making fun of me, saying my dad’s a criminal!” My wife gently pulled our son close and comforted him, saying, “I promised Mr. Scott I’d help him. Your dad’s so naive. He’ll never find out.” It turned out that my supposed happy life was nothing but lies and betrayal!

On the night of our wedding, my husband told me he wanted to have a child with his teacher’s daughter. When I confronted him, he turned it back on me. “Teacher is seriously ill, and her only wish is to see three generations under one roof. My junior and I are just doing IVF. It’s not like anything is actually happening between us!” “Besides, you were also her student. How could you refuse to help fulfill her last wish?” However, the next day, when I went to visit our teacher with a fruit basket, I saw my husband and his junior locked in an embrace at the corner of the hallway. The moment was like a bolt of lightning. I turned and walked away. The following day, my husband sent me a text: [I’m going with her for the IVF. Let’s postpone the family gathering for a few days.] I did not reply. Instead, I went back to my hometown alone, visiting each of my relatives to personally apologize. Then, I went to a lawyer. “I’d like to sue my husband for bigamy.”