Cool Superpowers Unique

ซัน : สองต่อสองคืออะไรผมไม่รู้จัก? กิจกรรมสนุก ๆ มันต้องอยู่กันหลาย ๆ คนสิวะ ยัยหุ่นบึ๊มก็เหมือนกัน สักวันผมจะลากมาร่วมวง! จูน : คนอย่างไอ้พี่ซันเหรอคะ? เป็นผู้ชายที่เกิดมามีหน้าที่แค่อย่างเดียวจริง ๆ คือการสร้างความสุขให้กับผู้หญิงบนเตียงเท่านั้นอย่าเผลอเอามาเป็นพ่อพันธ์เชียวนะสงสารอนาคตของชาติ!

Namanya Abian Malik Guinandra. Remaja jangkung dengan paras tampan yang mempesona. Matanya indah, alisnya tebal menyiku, bibirnya merah muda nan mengoda. Semua yang ada di dalam diri seorang Abian Malik Guinandra adalah kesempurnaan yang dilukiskan semesta dengan sedikit menaruh kata 'berlebihan' di sana. Hanya saja, Malik itu sedikit konyol! Tingkah aneh dengan candaan tak lucu yang kadang membosankan. Menjadi point tersendiri yang menjadi keunikannya di usia remaja. Saudara tirinya adalah Xena Ayudi Bridella. Si cantik yang introvert. Tak menyukai dunia penuh keramaian dan orang-orang asing adalah alasannya menyembunyikan hubungan keluarga tak sedarah dengan Abian Malik Guinandra. Ya, Xena dan Malik adalah saudara tiri setara usia. Fakta mengejutkannya adalah Xena menyukai Malik, si saudara tirinya sendiri. Mencintai saudara tirinya dalam diam tentu adalah hal yang tak mudah untuk seorang gadis cantik bernama Xena. Hingga akhirnya, Xena memutuskan untuk melawan semesta dan mengakui segala perasaannya. Memperjuangkan semuanya hingga titik darah penghabisan. Simak bagaimana kisah si gadis cantik, Xena Ayudi dengan saudara tiri yang tampan nan mempesona, Abian Malik Guinandra. Akanlah Xena mampu meluluhkan hati Malik dan mendapatkan cintanya? Read only on My STEPBROTHER : Crazy Sexy Cool. Happy Reading. Salam Hangat, Lefkiilavanta.

Sweet stories are coming. Be brave, and tell him how you feel. We hide in the lonely corners, watching those charming boys, but we don't know as long as we are brave enough, we can win their hearts. The handsome schoolboy, the abstinent professor, the cool genius... Who says that crush is fruitless? The pursuit of true love never goes out of style. “Falling in Love With A Cool Guy” My bestie's brother was a cool guy. When I met him for the first time, he went out of the bathroom and covered my head with a coat. Chelsea, my bestie tried to smooth things over. "This is my friend. Is she beautiful?" He looked at me coldly and said in a mean tone, "Ugly." Well, you might be a handful, but I knew how to deal with this type. I showed him my care and consideration for a long time. In the end, I gave up. He was still so arrogant that he didn't even call me sister. Two days after I gave up, he sent me the first message. Cool guy: [Are you playing hard to get?] “Love You Long Ago” I had a crush on Matthew, who was my neighbor, for a long time. One day, Matthew took the initiative to find me and introduced his younger brother to me. I smiled bitterly. Everyone knew that his half-brother was the person he hated the most. “Crush” I never thought this scene would appear in front of me. A tall man stood before me, holding the pink lingerie I had just taken off with his slender ring finger. My jeans were halfway also down my thighs.

The life trial system "If You Think You Can Do Better, Prove It" burst onto the scene like a traveling circus promising wonders. The idea was plain enough: "If you reckon someone's life is a mess, and you think you can do better, go ahead and prove it. There's a reward waiting if you do." Before I knew it, my whole family had me pegged for the fool in the middle of the show. There was my mother, dreaming of turning me into some grand goose; my husband, who'd spent years dodging his rightful share of the family load; and my son, mortified by the very sight of me. They shoved me onto the "judgment seat" like I was the villain of the tale. Every last one of them swore up and down that, given my place, they'd manage my life better than I ever could. The stakes? Well, if they pulled it off, my consciousness would be erased—gone, wiped out like a mistake on a chalkboard—and turned into their personal servant. On top of that, they'd waltz off with a cool million dollars. But if they couldn't? Then I'd be the one raking in three million dollars. Now that's a gamble for the ages, isn't it?

I always had a unique kind of mind-reading ability—I could hear the thoughts of people who didn't truly love me. On the night before my wedding, I suddenly heard my fiance's thoughts. 'If she shows up unexpectedly to disrupt the wedding tomorrow, will wearing leather shoes make it harder to escape?' I didn't say a word. The next day, without a second thought, I boarded a plane and left Chilia. In the end, that wedding, regarding a runaway bride and groom who never showed up, became the city's most infamous joke.

After my rebirth, the very first thing I did was ride from one blood donation van to another, giving blood until I nearly collapsed. Why? Because in my previous life, my fiancé's newly hired intern, Shirley Lynch, had bound herself to a blood-exchange system. Every milliliter she donated was siphoned directly from my own veins. In just a month, she transformed from an ordinary college girl into the nation's beloved Blood Angel, showered with fame and fortune, while I, suffering from severe anemia, was fired from the hospital for being unable to work. When I exposed her scheme to my fiancé, he looked at me with disgust and broke off our engagement. "You're selfish and cowardly," he sneered. "You refuse to donate your rare blood type, and now you slander Shirley? You call yourself a doctor, yet you believe in such ridiculous nonsense!" From then on, every time Shirley donated blood, I would suffer heart palpitations, dizziness, and sometimes collapse outright. I begged the doctors in my department for help, but my fiancé blocked every attempt, accusing me of jealousy and wasting medical resources. In the end, to steal my promotion ahead of schedule, Shirley donated a full 1000 milliliters of blood live on television. As her blood drained, so did mine. I went into shock and died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Shirley first claimed she carried my rare blood type.

I was a writer. I rented a place in the countryside to seek inspiration. The villagers said it was a haunted house. Twenty years ago, a mad woman murdered her daughter by piercing a needle into her skull! I did not believe it, but I got a call from a little girl that night. She said it was 2002, and her mother was trying to kill her!

My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

After waking up one day to discover I was coughing up flowers, everyone started giving me strange looks. It continued until my sworn enemy cornered me against a wall. His expression darkened as he chuckled softly and asked, "Oh, baby, have you been going out like this every day? Why don't you try mine instead?"

My boss, who made me work overtime every single day, finally got what was coming to him. Somehow, he got connected to my new keyboard. It was like he was synced to it. His face flushed red, his eyes brimming with tears. "Don't type anymore," he begged. I just smiled and nudged the mouse. "Don't move the mouse either!" 'Do you expect me to just stop because you said so? Wouldn't that make me look pathetic?' I thought to myself. I kept working until midnight. Just as I was about to leave, I glanced down. The carpet at my boss's feet was soaked through. I figured he must have knocked over his glass of water.