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Consolation Prize

Consolation Prize

"Don’t you just hate it when someone destroys all your carefully made plans? I mean, I had goals: college to graduate in one semester, a future I was working hard to reach, and an image of myself I wanted the world to see. My life was stacked into these precisely placed blocks. But then Colton Gamble came along and knocked them all askew. I hated how he messed everything up, how he could hog all my attention whenever he was around, how he made my pulse quicken—but only because he ticked me off...not because I was attracted to him. Oh! And I hated how he knew how attractive he was too, the shallow, full of himself, doesn’t take no for an answer, too flirty, too cocky, extremely irritating jerk. The boy had all the qualities that turned me off. Or so I thought. One night he wasn’t quite the brainless, overconfident jerk I assumed he always was. One night, he took care of me when I was at my lowest. He opened up to me and made me open up to him. Now I’m learning maybe he’s not what I first thought he was. And maybe I’M not what I first thought I was. Maybe it’s okay to rearrange a couple of my perfectly set blocks. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll stop worrying about what I’m afraid everyone else will think and finally reach for something I really want. It’s possible some of my plans need to be destroyed, and Colton Gamble is exactly the kind of mess I need in my life. What do you think? Should I give him a try? Desperately seeking your advice, Julianna Radcliffe"
109.4K viewsOngoingAdded to Library 281 Times as worrying
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An Exclusive Kind of Love

An Exclusive Kind of Love

My name is Haley Dixon. Ever since I was young, I knew I was different from other women. Other women have only one passage, but I have two—and both are extremely narrow. I'd heard that my mother was originally pregnant with twins, but a genetic mutation during the pregnancy caused my twin sister to die in the womb. I absorbed the part of her body that became my second passage, along with all of her estrogen. That was why I had a stronger desire than other women. As a teenager, I could use my little toys for up to four hours and still want more. For a while, I was almost proud of myself. I thought a rare treasure like me would be cherished and fiercely loved by any boyfriend. But after five consecutive boyfriends—every single one of them—bolted at the final moment, terrified by what they saw in my pants, calling me a monster and worrying I'd suck them in, I finally realized: maybe this wasn't being "different." Maybe this was a disease. But going to the hospital didn't help. Instead, they told me that my long-term use of foreign objects had led to an addiction disorder. I cried. Why did a monstrous woman like me have to suffer from this? Still, I didn't have time to wallow in misery, because the addiction tormented me day and night, stealing my peace and my sleep. So I went online and bought the largest set of toys I could find. Within just half a month, I'd broken them all—and my mild addiction had become severe. The toys were useless. It seemed I needed a man. But I no longer dreamed of finding a boyfriend. As long as someone could give me relief, any man would do. I signed up for a hookup app and chose the username: Double-Hole Slut.
213 viewsCompletedAdded to Library 8 Times as worrying
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Killed by Her Thrift, Reborn for Revenge

Killed by Her Thrift, Reborn for Revenge

Ever since I married Myra Cowan, I started living like a beggar despite making an annual salary of a million dollars. She kept telling me, "We should hang in there for now, honey. Once we've saved enough money, we'll be able to live however we want without worrying about our financial situation." My closet was stuffed with old suits bought ten years ago. My lunches were always sandwiches, which were nearing their expiry dates, bought from convenience stores. My friends made fun of me for marrying a woman who was addicted to saving money. But my heart went out to Myra for suffering with me in life. But when I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer and needed money for a life-saving surgery, Myra broke down in tears and told me that all of our savings were kept in a fixed-term deposit. Before I drew my last breath, I heard Myra telling her younger brother, Dwight Cowan, over the phone in a gentle tone, "I've already transferred you the down payment for your house." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Myra demands that I sell my gaming account in exchange for money. The monitor shows a familiar login screen. Myra can be seen standing next to me. "This account can be sold for 8,000 dollars. We can save three months' worth of expenses with this money!" I just laugh in response. In my previous life, I had done nothing but save money. In the end, all of my money became someone else's assets. Why the hell should I save money in this life? With just one click on the mouse, I reload a million dollars into the game right away. Immediately, a reddish-golden meteor shower covers the skies of the entire server. The system makes an announcement in a bold, enlarged font that gets repeated for a long time. "Player 'Void' spares no expense, inviting fair maidens from across the realms to forge a destined bond! Those who are interested are welcome to attend the Celestial Lake Gathering. A bride price of one million awaits—offered in exchange for a single, sincere heart."
1.0K viewsCompletedAdded to Library 24 Times as worrying
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