The Loud House No Guts No Glori

My son accidentally ate peanuts and suffered a severe allergic reaction. I threw away all the anti-allergy medication in the house and even hung up when he called 911 for help. I watched helplessly as his airway swelled shut and he suffocated to death. In my previous life, when my son struggled to breathe, I immediately drove him to the hospital. After an intense rescue effort, he survived, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, my mother-in-law stormed in, furious, accusing me of being a monster and blaming me for nearly killing him. I hurried to explain that he was fine. Yet, when I presented the doctor's report and discharge paperwork, I was horrified to discover that they had turned into a death certificate. My son, who had been resting safely in the ICU, was gone. He had somehow appeared in the morgue. Refusing to accept it, I checked the surveillance footage. However, the footage clearly showed that my son never left the operating room. Instead, it was just me, talking to myself the entire time. I had no idea what was happening. No one believed me. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. In the end, as my condition worsened, a swarm of frenzied patients attacked me and tore me apart alive.

A year after my divorce, my ex-husband, Harvey Fisher, pings me in a group chat. "This cold war has gone on for long enough. Come home—let's remarry." I reply, "Have you lost your mind?" Everyone in the group chat tries to convince me to take Harvey back. Meanwhile, he asks, "What have you been doing without me in your life?" I turn to look at my current husband, who's putting our child to sleep. I reply, "Recovering after having a child." The group chat members are initially excited, but they instantly fall silent at my words. Harvey angrily calls me countless times, but I ignore him. His mind is not the only thing he's lost—he's also lost the young woman who once loved him more than life itself.

Memo's parents died in the car crash, being the only son he has no choice but to step up and became the CEO of their company, but to his surprise, all of his assets were frozen. He then discovered that to get his assets, he must marry Rowan Palmer, his parent's business partner. Since all of his assets were frozen, Memo was forced out of his house and he has nowhere to go. So when his ex-husband shows up and convinces him to live in his house, his dwindling options lead him to bite the offer. But with the two of them living together, how big is the chance that their old flame will be rekindled?

I run into a group of rogues on my way home for my daughter's birthday. I call my wife for help, but she blocks my number. I'm dragged out of the car, stabbed a dozen times, and thrown into the bushes to die. My neck is broken, and my organs are spilling out of my body. The rogues think I'm going to die—they even mention each other's names before me. Then, they drive off in my car while whistling happily. I hold onto my head and organs as I crawl to the roadside, hoping against hope that someone will save me. Before I'm taken to the hospital, I see my wife's social media update—she and her secretary have taken a sweet photo together while celebrating our daughter's birthday. The first thing I do after being discharged is demand a divorce.

Fiona had been acting as a stand-in lover for five long years, veiling her true power and presenting herself as meek and obedient, tirelessly tending to Darwin's every need, only to be taken for granted. But then news arrived of Darwin's impending marriage to a wealthy heiress. No longer willing to play the role of the submissive substitute, Fiona swiftly cut ties with the scoundrel, concealing her pregnancy, and fleeing. Five years later, she had undergone an astounding transformation, emerging as the heiress to a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate, earning the title of the investment banking goddess, esteemed by all in the sectors of finance. When they finally met again, the one who had searched desperately for five years, losing their sanity in the process, discarded all dignity and pride, humbly beseeching, "Please, do not reject me..."

From a young age, she had to live under the pressure of her stepmother, after her father died of an illness, her stepmother became even more domineering, now because she wants to help her beloved son pay off his debts, he forces her to marrying a man old enough to be his father, what a dream! Such a shameless request, Grainne would honestly rather die. But she did not expect, this time Joyce was really cruel, locking her up for two days and two nights without releasing her, nor giving her any food or drink. When she could escape, she wanted to meet her lover - Brian to run away together but discovered he had an affair, too bitter she spent the night out with a strange man and the unexpected. she was pregnant with that man again, the famous cold, dark president - Carwyn

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out." I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Vera Darkthorne, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Eris got the love, the title, even my mate Cain, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine. That night, I ran. Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Eris's dying, the pack demands my return. "Come home, Vera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you." I almost laugh. After everything? But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own. And when wolves hunt you down, you don't run—you rip their throats out first.

On the day of my wedding to James Jonas, his best friend, Mia Rodriguez, appeared in front of me, pregnant. She cried with tears in her eyes, “Ames, you have everything. Please, just give James to me. I’m having… his baby…” I ripped off my veil and threw it on the floor. Turning around, I saw James' panicked eyes. Perhaps he remembered our contract: If anything goes wrong with this wedding, his fortune will be mine.

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"

On the day of my birthday, my cousin, who does ballet, falls and injures her leg. My father smacks my leg with a club in a fit of rage. I cry out in pain, but he doesn't care. He sneers and says, "Now, you know how it feels! Why didn't you stop to think how much pain your cousin would be in when you pushed her and made her fall down the stairs?" He hits me with all his might until I can't make any more sounds. To drive the lesson home, he shoves me into the basement, uncaring that I'm on the brink of death. "I'll let you out of there once you stop thinking these dirty thoughts, Yvonne!" But when he opens the door to the basement once more, all he sees is my decomposing corpse.