Expiration Stories

I'm a writer and I need to write a love story. But I know nothing about love. Would you teach me how?

[Being Edited Along The Way] Based/Built Around MikaelaBender's series: Expiration Date, which is amazing and you should totally go read it for some extra information. Welcome to the world of destiny and fate, the world where your death date is known from birth; and there's no escaping it. Or is there? Simon Wright and Deidre Doniver are destined to die within a week of each other so naturally they're best of friends. In fact they even kissed once in third grade, but that was weird and its not the point. The point is Deidre doesn't trust the Society, and when Simon comes home from work one day and tells the story of being kidnapped by rebels Deidre's suspicions are confirmed. Fate can be changed. Or can it? Is there an actual possibility of becoming Expired or becoming Spoiled, dying before your Mark says so? Read to find out!

This is a Mother's Day fan fiction, and all the credit goes to expired and expiration date.

Everyone is born with a date on this wrist. It could be years away, or it could be extremely soon. Whenever that day may be, it's the day you'll die. But you'll never know when exactly you'll die. The date on your wrist only has the month and day, no year. So once a year, you get to live 24 hours of constant fear. Many people go about that day without a care in the world, trusting fate. Others will barricade themselves up at home for the entire day. Kirishima never thought Bakugou would be one to fear death. Bakugou never thought his date would change.

Short Story, found the prompt online: At birth, everyone has the date they will die tattooed on their arm. You were supposed to die yesterday. Enjoy and comment what you think :)

The name is Adeline, Addie for short. I'm sick, deeply sick. I've always heard of people using their illness as weakness. Not me, I plan to make the best of it.

*ON HOLD* *Previously known as Expiration Date* Every single day I get up and I feel my heart stop- just a bit. This is not me- I am not this person I let everyone see, someone happy and good humored. I am scared. But who isn't right? I can't let people hurt me, so I hurt myself. I don't want your pity- I want closure. I want to know what happened that night- the night that changed everything. And even though I am denying it- I want to share with someone to get reassurance of the fact that I am not mentally ill. ***Acknowledgments*** Thanks: To my readers- thank you for being there and bearing with me. To wreckedhavoc for my awesome-saucylicious cover. To CrimzSky for encouraging me to start this mess. To everyone who has critiqued my work and given me things to improve on. To everyone commenting on this story and telling me what you think. And most importantly to my cat, random things running through my mind, and caffeine. Nah, just kidding thank you guys for giving my book a shot- I never thought I'd be able to achieve what I have (even thought that is not that much in comparison to bestsellers). Dash

We are all born with the date of our deaths imprinted on our arms. Its society's way of saying, "we own you", because they do. They watch and control us. They know our every move. They know when and how we are destined to die. In other words, they make us so they can break us and that's exactly what they did to me. This idea came from a prompt on Pinterest. ⚠warning this is my first book- read at your own risk⚠️ I'm also writing as I go so if things don't make sense feel free to point it out so I can fix it in editing. ?

Writing out my pain of moving away to college and setting a expiration for my love. The transition is hard, the pain is worse. Using this as a method to cope so I don't lose my grasp on reality.

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤, 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧s. 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐒𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔.𝐀. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞? MAJOR EDITING!!!!

"My name is Valerie Day, and I'm about to die." The last thing Valerie expects is to go to heaven. So when she slips into the afterlife like a shadow, and no one seems to notice her, will the fake innocence last? Can dead people fall in love? And the life and death question: will it come out that Valerie Day isn't just dead, she's a murderer?

The three patients were given three different kinds of drugs supposed to be used for

I lost everything. My family. Home. Myself. Just because I could see numbers... that indicate people's death. I like to call them 'expiration dates.' I want to be free from this curse, this burden of dreadful knowledge I obtain every time I make eye contact with people, but I can't die. It's not yet my time. The numbers can't be defied, no matter how hard I try. I've stopped trying a long time ago, but I have to risk again. I can't lose him. ...at least not yet.

This book is now officially called "Last Breaths" which was under the previous name called "Used to be us...". I remember reading Him by Pierre A Jeanty and I was truly inspired by it. This inspiration led me to write this book. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. *** To the one who loved 6.13.19 The expiration date was nearing I thought as I looked at the moon something so magnificent even with the fissures and scars. The heart-aching ritual of the heartbroken heartbreaker, lighthearted I used to be, but to my dismay, you had the deepest of my heart and, that's what I feared the most. . . . . . You taught me how to love yet I had to fight back for the sake of you for the sake of us, the road we were walking on became delicate, a second away from rifting and someone had to live. A ritual is a ritual, anyhow. ~From the one who didn't know what love was *** Just a bunch of letters put together to form a book of regret & romance.

A short poem inspired by some rotten bananas I saw on a market stall. Is this really about bananas though? Society's warped views and expectations. Reality hidden behind perfection.

A heartbreaking love story

In a world where every person is born with a tattoo that marks the exact date of their death, life is predictable-until one man wakes up to find his tattoo has vanished. No numbers. No fate. No end. Is he free from death, or has he become an error the universe intends to erase?

A taylor caniff love story. He bullied her. She cuts. He lies. She believes. She had no walls. She thought if she had no walls nobody could break them. He proved her wrong. Will she find love in another

From Real Stories, Real Books, Real Research, Real People, Real Everything by Me.

"After years of hiding, it was time to face his past and put an end to the thing that ruined everything" The city is destroyed, there is no one in sight, and he is losing his mind. What happened to the city and why is he going back?