Pitch Perfect Fan Fiction

When Father asks me who I want to marry, I resolutely give up on Prince Maurice Swain. I choose to marry his uncle, Prince Gideon Swain. Father is confused. After all, everyone in the capital knows that I'm desperately in love with Maurice. I've said more than once that he's the only man I'll marry. I only have a bitter taste in my mouth. I married Maurice in my past life, and I gave my all in managing the household. Yet he never came home and even took a mistress behind my back. When I eventually became bedridden after wearing myself out, he brought Camilla Chapman back and threw her a grand wedding. The children they'd secretly had together came with her. It was only then that I realized the tonics Maurice had given me had rendered me infertile and weak. They slowly ate away at me from the inside. I watched as Maurice and Camilla lived a happy life with their children. I chose to let them have what they wanted. Now that I've been reborn, I'm going to stay away from Maurice and marry Gideon instead. Yet when Maurice finds out, he goes berserk. He stands before me with his eyes bloodshot as he forbids me from marrying Gideon.

I was reborn before I signed up for a scientific expedition tour to the South Pole. My boyfriend’s adopted younger sister used a system to forcefully exchange my physical senses with hers. She deliberately went out to do something good on a day with a temperature of 107.6 °F, like delivering water to the outdoor workers. On the other hand, I got so hot in a 60.8 °F air-conditioned room that I fainted from heat stroke. I begged Wendy Little to stop, but she feigned innocence. “You must make a good excuse if you want to lie like that!” Max Little sounded disdainful. “How selfish! You’re quite lucky to enjoy yourself in air-conditioned rooms every day. You can’t tolerate Wendy doing something kind.” Wendy took her time and basked in the sun for a month outside. People took photos of her and put them on the internet. Countless netizens were moved by her. But I died from heat stroke in an air-conditioned room. Nobody even found my corpse. If that was how it was, I wanted her to enjoy the coolness of -184 °F in the South Pole.

Every day, my son and husband finish all the house chores before I even get home. But only because they're bringing my husband's first love, Sally Sullivan, back for Thanksgiving, I pour boiling water on my son's face. I also kick both my son and husband out when it's 104°F outside. Desperate to save our son, my husband sprawls across the front porch, begging me to open the door. "Wanda, open the door! We need to save our son! I only invited Sally over because she saved you once back then. I didn't mean anything else by it!" "Mom, it hurts!" my son cries. "Mom, can't you kiss me? Mom…" Meanwhile, I'm slouching on the couch, snacking away as I watch TV. In the end, my husband can't take it anymore and brings me to the Bad Mom Court for trial. The moment my memories are extracted, the entire court bursts into tears.

I was cleaning up the house on the second day after my wife went for a business trip. I casually instructed the smart speaker. “Smart, play some music.” However, I heard a husky, strange male voice. “Sure. I’m the Sun that loves you. Plus, Lindy, I would like to remind you not to forget about your birthday surprise for Sam tonight.” I stiffened and found the music particularly annoying. Linda Clark was my wife, but I had no idea who Sam was. I immediately called my wife. “Did you use the smart speaker at home?” Linda paused for a moment before she laughed indifferently. “Oh, my friend visited me a few days ago. She might have connected her account to it. What’s wrong?” I laughed and told her it was nothing. After hanging up, I found the login record of the speaker and hailed a cab. I headed straight to the registered company associated with the unfamiliar account on the record.

My sister's best friend borrowed 20 thousand from me, saying it was for her mother's medical bills. As a cop, I lent it to her. I figured if I could help, I should. When it was time to pay me back, she didn't return a cent. Instead, she showed up at my precinct holding a baby and accused me of indecent assaults. After a paternity test, the baby turned out to be mine. She went on livestreams, crying about how I broke the law despite being a police officer. She used the scandal to make herself famous. The force treated me like a disgrace and fired me. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. I went from a model officer to a criminal overnight. My parents were cyberbullied; with nowhere left to turn, they both drowned themselves. My wife was also beaten in the street. She suffered a miscarriage from the attack and died from massive blood loss. As for my sister, guilt drove her insane; she was hospitalized before vanishing from the public eye. After my family fell apart, I hanged myself one night. Then I opened my eyes again. I'd been reborn. Facing my sister's evil friend, I vowed to fight back.

My husband, Joseph Coleman, falls from the third floor, shatters both legs, and even injures what men fear losing most. I don't rush him to the nearest hospital. Instead, I drive him to a hospital two thousand miles away. In my previous life, Joseph jumped on purpose so the hospital intern he dotes on, Kimberly Parker, could secure a permanent spot by operating on him. He refused the capable surgeons nearby and insisted I take him to the hospital where Kimberly works, just so she can treat him. I turned him down because Kimberly is an untrained intern who got in through connections and has no surgical experience. Joseph had slapped me hard across the face. "I just want to use my injury to help Kim go permanent. Why are you being so petty?" He was dead set on Kimberly treating him. I worried the delay would ruin his legs, so I asked his mother, Diane Lowe, to talk sense into him. But what I never expected was Kimberly jumping from the hospital building when she failed her probation. Meanwhile, Joseph is treated in time, and both legs are spared. On the day he's discharged, I come smiling to take him home, but he runs me down with his car and kills me. As I collapse on the floor, choking on blood, I ask him why. He looks at me like I'm something stuck to his shoe. "If you hadn't stopped me from helping Kimberly go permanent, she never would've died!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Joseph falls and breaks his legs.

My husband's beloved lover suffered from menstruation complications. A traveling doctor claimed that a fresh placenta was needed to cure her. His gaze fixated on my seven-months-pregnant baby bump. And thus, I was pinned down on the bed as they ripped the placenta from my body. My son was carelessly tossed aside. He didn't even get the chance to cry before his tiny body fell silent forever. My husband pinched his nose in disgust, frowning as he looked at me—bleeding out, feebly reaching for my child. “It’s just a premature baby. He'll be fine after a few days of care. Why are you making such a fuss? Sandra is waiting for her medicine." He left and locked the door behind him without looking back. He claimed it was a lesson I needed to learn. By the time he finally remembered us, my son and I had long since bled dry, our bodies cold and stiff.

When the village chief delivered the items for my wedding, my fiancé's adopted sister, who was the apple of his eye, suddenly burst into tears. She cut my wedding dress and smashed the wardrobe that my older brother made for me. Every time I was about to lose my temper, my fiancé, who was also my childhood sweetheart, would immediately side with her. He claimed that she was still young and did not understand jealousy; she was just insecure. Even my own brother defended her, saying I had a birth brother who doted on me. It would not hurt to give in to her. When an earthquake happened, they both ran to her and protected her tightly beneath their bodies. Meanwhile, I was trapped under the ruins for three days and three nights. My brother and fiancé tried every possible way to cheer up her, leaving the villagers to rescue me instead. When they looked at me with wounds all over my body, they only said, "Don't overthink it. Jenn is timid and frightened. We couldn't leave her alone." I was on bed rest for a month, but not once did I see them. Only the village chief came to see me. He tried to persuade me, saying, "You're the first college student in our village. Are you really going to give up on your studies just to get married? This—" I interrupted him, "I made my decision before you came. I'll report to the college on time!"

My mother-in-law, Daisy Rothbart, gets pregnant around the same time I do. We even give birth to baby boys via cesarean sections on the same day. However, her infant dies later, and that's when she suddenly starts showering my son, Casey Dyson, with all her love and attention. After Casey officially takes over the family business one day, my husband, Jerome Dyson, and I die in an accident out at sea. However, my spirit remains close to Casey even after my death, and that's when I find out that he starts calling Daisy "Mom" while crying in relief. It is only then that I learn that the son I'd been bringing up for 20 years had been secretly switched at birth by none other than Daisy. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I'd traveled back in time to the day when Daisy and I were both scheduled to undergo cesarean sections at the hospital.

After the college entrance exam, my parents left me at home and took their adopted daughter on a trip to the beach. A typhoon hit, and the three of them never came back. When the news reached me, I did not cry or throw a tantrum. I had their deaths registered right away and pulled out the life insurance I had bought in advance. I received one hundred million in compensation. My fiance scolded me for caring only about money. What he did not know was that I had been reborn. In my past life, after I learned about their deaths, the huge debts they had left behind fell on me. I gave up the chance to go to college and started working to pay everything back. I fought to protect our ancestral home from debt collectors. My fiance stayed with me and cheered me on when I came home late at night from delivery runs. But he never gave me a single cent to help. At thirty-five, I finally cleared every debt. On my birthday, I bought myself a ten-dollar cake to celebrate. Just as I was about to blow out the candle, the door opened. My parents and their adopted daughter, who should have died in the typhoon, walked in dressed in designer clothes. They smiled at me smugly. “Well done! We can finally believe that you aren’t greedy for money. You’ve passed the test. From today, you are qualified to be the daughter of the Jameson family.” “Jane, this brilliant idea was all thanks to you.” My adopted sister smiled. She leaned close and blew out my candle. The only light left in my twenty years of lifetime went out with it. My body gave in to exhaustion. My heart failed. I collapsed and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, they were about to head to the beach in the middle of the typhoon. I bought a massive accident insurance policy for them on the spot. This time, all I wanted was for them to disappear from this world forever.