Kpop Derp Face

The day Yancy Shepherd died, Benedict Page poisoned our dinner. His eyes were wild, and bloodshot, as he watched me writhe in agony. There was a madness in his gaze, but worse was the hatred, a disgust so deep it twisted his face into something unrecognizable. "If it weren't for you forcing your way into our lives, Yancy wouldn’t have died from heartbreak. You ruined us! It’s all your fault!" A photo slipped from his trembling hand and landed at my feet—Yancy at twenty, looking radiant, her smile as bright as a blooming flower. I collapsed to the ground, my strength fading fast like a rose withering in the final grasp of winter. Helpless, I waited for the darkness to claim me, consumed by despair and bitter regret. Why hadn’t I listened to the system and killed him when I had the chance? But when I opened my eyes again, everything was different. I stood watching Benedict flee our engagement ceremony. My brother moved to chase after him, but I quietly raised a hand, stopping him. This time, things would be different.

Seven years into our marriage, Zane Grimes and I remained childless. He once held me close, his voice tender and earnest. "Don't overthink it. I've never cared for children. You're all I want in this life." But on the day his company went public, as the ceremonial bell echoed through the hall, the doors burst open. My sister stormed in, cradling a wailing infant. "Zane, this is your son! How can you abandon us?" Zane's face paled as he turned to me, his eyes brimming with panic and a silent plea. Unbeknownst to him, I had long known about his betrayal and the child.

For the nursery's Family Day, my husband, Gary Lane, said that he was busy at work and told our daughter, Emily Lane, and I not to participate in the event. I looked at Emily's disappointed face, my heart ached. Therefore, I decided to take Emily to the event myself. As soon as we arrived at the nursery, we saw Gary carrying a little boy in one hand and holding his childhood sweetheart, Shannon Harvey's hand in the other. They looked like a family of three and were very happy. That was until they saw me and Emily. Gary furrowed his brows a little and then let go of Shannon's hand. "Don't get me wrong, Jasmine. It's not easy for Shannon to raise a child as a single mother. It's the child's fifth birthday today. She wanted him to experience some fatherly love." I looked at him meaningfully, squatted down, and held Emily's hand. "Honey, say hello to Mr. Lane."

The story of 'EVERY WOMAN CANNOT BE PRETTY' is a message to millions of women around the world who feel inferior due to their average looks that ‘ Beauty is not in the face alone.’ The protagonist in this story, Sarah Liam suffers from PCOS ( Polycystic Ovary Syndrome) with side effects of being obese, acne prone and having more than normal hair growth on face and body. To top it she is short in height and has a prominent mole on her chin. In all, she is not what one can call “pretty”. Her husband wants to use her as a sex toy, her best friend betrays her trust by sleeping with her husband. Faced with treachery by loved ones, shunned by many, at the brunt of the unkindest of jokes, the story shows how Sarah manages to rise like a Phoenix, hold her head high and eke revenge on the people who have cheated her, solely with the strength of her talent and grit. But with her flawed appearance, will she ever find true love? Can she ever aspire to marry a handsome man or will she have to settle for someone similarly flawed? Read on..

Hindi na nagdalawang isip pa si Yanie Seo-ri na tanggapin ang isang trabaho na inaalok sa kanya ng isang BTS (Bangtan Sonyeondan) Manager. Nakitaan kase siya nito ng galing sa pakikitungo sa mga kpop idols na dumarayo sa isang mamahaling bar kung saan talaga siya nagtatrabaho. Permanente siya roon ngunit mas maganda ang magiging sweldo niya kung ang pagsisilbihan niya ang pinaka sikat na Boy group sa buong mundo. Sa dami rami ang naghangad na pagsilbihan ang pitong binata na ito ay siya na nga siguro ang isa sa pinaka swerte. Maiituring nga ba niyang swerte o kailangan lamang niyang panindigan ang trabahong tinanggap niya?

The richest woman in all of Jezelworth, Abby Davidson, was determined to marry my brother, Wallace Bourn. Everyone called Abby the "Black Widow", a cold-hearted woman who would do anything to get what she wanted. Anyone who married her was doomed to meet a tragic end. Wallace turned pale with fear, but I pulled him aside and said quietly, "I'll marry her in your place. But you have to stay in the countryside and guard my father's safe under his grave for three years. You can't open it before then." He thought the safe held a massive fortune. Grinning like a fool, he agreed without hesitation. Watching his greedy face, I couldn't help but laugh coldly inside. He'd better be ready for this. I couldn't wait to see if he could manage the "surprise" he'd find inside!

I'm having a mental breakdown as I face a clogged drain with my feverish and fussing daughter in my arms. Meanwhile, my husband has reserved a hotel to celebrate another woman's birthday. My mother-in-law spits on the floor. "This is what you deserve. You can't even capture a man's heart!" I clench a fist around the winning lottery ticket in my pocket. I want to get a divorce.

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

Led by my ex-boyfriend, the police raid the base of the major crime syndicate. The antagonist takes his own life, and the only person who could prove my identity as a top-secret undercover operative died two weeks ago. My ex-boyfriend drags me into court. He wants my memories extracted so I can face public judgment and sentencing. Nevertheless, I have no intention of explaining myself. "I plead guilty. Grant me a swift death." The masses are outraged, despising me with every fiber of their being. "Ha! You despicable traitor! You monster! You're a rat who exposes undercover journalists, yet you dare ask for a swift death? "This is the world of a novel. The maximum penalty for a guilty plea is euthanasia, but if judgment is passed by the court, you will suffer endless torment until your last breath!" "You don't deserve euthanasia. You belong in hell!" Rotten eggs and stones pelt me mercilessly. Even with my face now covered in blood, I make no effort to avoid the assaults. I only longed for death. My ex-boyfriend glares at me coldly. "You betrayed me. What right do you have to ask for a swift death? Your memories must be extracted and judged in court. Death will come only after your torment!" They are the ones who demand my memories be extracted and judged, yet after seeing them, why are they also the ones who go mad with regret?