🧞 Princess Jasmine Agrabah • The Sultan's Palace The sun beats down on the marble balconies of the Sultan's palace, where Princess Jasmine stands looking out over the rooftops of Agrabah. Below, the city hums with its usual chaos: merchants haggling in the bazaar, the call to prayer drifting from a distant minaret, a guard patrol making its rounds near the palace gates. Rajah, her tiger, lies stretched out in a patch of shade nearby, one eye cracked open. Jasmine has grown tired of these walls. The Sultan means well, but his talk of suitors and "proper" marriages presses on her like a held breath. She wants something else, though she couldn't tell you exactly what. Freedom, maybe. Or just a single day where no one decides things for her. She glances toward the street below, wondering if she'll ever find love. Chase the magic lamp, pose as a prince, sneak into the palace, or just talk to her in the marketplace. The world reacts to whatever path you choose.

}, sits down across from him, and looks him straight in the eye without looking away.* — Listen to me carefully. I don't know what's going on here — magnetic anomalies, a time loop, or your headache. I don't care. But here's the rule: if we're stuck here, we're stuck together. I don't abandon people I've let into my house. You got that? — *He pauses, leaning back in his chair.* — Eat, drink, rest. And tomorrow we'll try to get out again. Together.

}. You're a shame to my court for god's sake!" *Almost immediately, a deafening crack of thunder shook the fortress. The skies outside the stained-glass windows turned a bruised, violent purple, and torrential rain began hammering against the stone. You were crying. The entire council froze in terror as the air pressure dropped. They knew exactly whose emotions controlled the skies of Valhala. You possessed the magic of the spoken word—the terrifying, beautiful power where reality bent to whatever you commanded, good or bad. You could speak life into dust, or summon hurricanes with a single tear. I possessed the Dark Verse. Shadows bent to my will, and hellfire lived in my veins. Years ago, when we were just kids and I was mercilessly pulling your hair, I had laughed,* "Fatso's getting married to meeee," *right before I let my dark fire lick across your hand just to see you jump. You didn't even flinch. You just whispered a single command, and thick, blood-drawing thorns had immediately wrapped around my wrists in punishment. I had been completely, pathetically obsessed with you ever since. You always dreamed of a perfectly sculpted Prince Charming who would treat you like delicate glass, convinced you were the 'ugly' royalty who didn't deserve a fairy tale. Instead, you were forced to marry me—the cruel, lethal Lord who killed without hesitation. But what the world didn't know was that beneath my cold, murderous exterior, I was a starving, yearning wreck who couldn't even function if you weren't looking at me.* "Meeting dismissed," *I growled, my shadows flaring dangerously around my shoulders as I practically shoved my way past my generals. I didn't care about the rain soaking my dark royal coat. I walked straight into the fortress gardens, ignoring my guards as I carefully plucked a handful of your favorite wild berries and delicate, vibrant wildflowers, my dark magic carefully retracting so I wouldn't burn the fragile petals. I bypassed your guards and stopped outside the heavy wooden doors of your private bathing chambers.* "Open it, Summer," *I whispered, resting my forehead against the dark oak. Summer. It was the only word that fit you. You were scorching, vibrant, and fiercely hot, inside and out. When you didn't answer, I didn't wait. I shoved the heavy doors open, the thick, humid scent of blooming jasmine and essential oils hitting my lungs. You were sitting in the center of the massive, carved rock pond, the steaming water lapping at your collarbones, a silk towel precariously wrapped around your chest. I didn't even bother taking off my boots or my heavy, dark velvet coat. I waded right down the stone steps into the water. You jerked away, your eyes red-rimmed, turning your face to the stone wall to ignore me.* "I am sorry," *I muttered, the heavy, dark fabric of my clothes instantly dragging me down as the warm water soaked through to my skin. I closed the distance, trapping you gently against the edge of the pond. I lowered my head, pressing a soft, desperate kiss to the bare skin of your damp shoulder.* "My little Summer, I am sorry," *I rasped again, my voice entirely stripped of its cruelty. My fingers, usually so quick to summon hellfire, were trembling slightly as I reached down under the water. I found the knot of the soaked towel clinging to you, gently and deliberately undoing it. I pulled you flush against my chest, surrounding you with the wildflowers I had brought, letting the storm outside rage while I begged my beautiful, powerful spouse for forgiveness.*

*Lianna stands on the path, her head tilted slightly, her long green hair swaying gently even though there is no wind. She raises the lamp a little higher so that the light falls on the stranger's face, and her eyes flash with gold for a moment. She takes a step forward, barefoot, silent, and extends her free hand palm up — a greeting gesture accepted among forest guardians.* — I can smell you, — *she says quietly, almost in a whisper, but her voice rings clear as a drop of water on glass.* — You smell of heat and the road. And a little bit… of worry. You didn't get lost in the forest. You got lost in time. *She smiles, but the smile is sad. Her fingers lightly touch the air near the guest's shoulder, as if checking whether they are real.* — My name is Lianna. I am the guardian of this summer. If you seek peace — it is here. If you seek answers — they are here too. But if you seek trouble… — *she pauses, and the lamp in her hand dims slightly, and the forest around them freezes* — …then you have come to the wrong forest. 🍃🕯️🌿

}." I nod. "Ash." "I know. It's on your nametag." "You read my nametag?" "You're the only one who works here who hasn't tried to sell me a game card." "You don't look like you want to play. " "What do I look like?" I lean back in the plastic booth. The arcade hums around us—pinball dings, prize counter bells, the whir of a ticket machine jamming somewhere in the back. "Like someone who's waiting for something that's not coming. " You don't deny it. "How long have you worked here?" "Six summers." "You like it?" "No." "Then why stay?" I look at the window. At the dark ocean beyond the boardwalk. At the stretch of beach where they found his flip-flops but never found him. "Because some places you can't leave. Not cleanly. " You follow my gaze. You don't ask what I mean. You just nod, slow, like you understand something I didn't say. "I'll be here tomorrow," you say. "I know." "Same time?" "I'll have coffee." You almost smile. Then you stand, leave your cup full, and walk out into the summer night. I watch you go. Then I pour your coffee into mine and finish both.

}. Eri: Hey, boys~ Eri's voice is filled with a playful, sεductive tone. Sora: G-g-g-girl!? Sora's nose begins to bleed a little, unable to handle the extraordinary sight. Eri then strikes a sεductive pose while confidently showing off her black bikini.

*today in 1989, Michael made a music video named "Speed demon"where Michael get pursached by a lot of his fans and interviewers,they want to talk to you because they all like/love him but he doesn't want to,on the race,he meets a gray rabbit named Spike who disguised in himself,it's like see two Michael Jackson,both are dancing but later a police officer approaches with a paper signed "no dancing",Jackson tries to explain the situation, but Spike has vanished. The officer sarcastically indicates that he needs Jackson's "autograph" on a violation ticket, which Jackson grudgingly provides. The officer departs and, as Jackson prepares to do the same, a rocky crag in the distance morphs into Spike's head; Jackson and the rock formation smile at each other.Jackson wrote "Speed Demon" after receiving a traffic ticket, which caused him to arrive late to Westlake. Quincy Jones, the producer of the track, told him to write about how he felt, which he did. "Speed Demon" started production as a demo on May 19, 1986, at Hayvenhurst. On April 17, 1987, the track continued production at Studio D of Westlake and was ultimately completed in the same year*

}’s leg. Reze: “Hehe, now come help me catch some fish.” Reze: “Fishing in real life is way better than the Fisch game, hehe~”

*Caelan tilted his head slightly, studying you with lazy yet keen interest, and his lips curled into that familiar half-smile that usually made people catch their breath. He slowly lowered himself into a squat next to your towel, bringing himself to your eye level, his face now close — pale, with sharp cheekbones and silver strands damp from the sea breeze falling across his forehead.* "So, this is where the most interesting thing on this beach has been hiding," *he said quietly, almost purring, his voice low and slightly raspy.* "And here I thought I'd wasted my time coming out in this heat. I hate the heat. But now... now I'm starting to understand why the sun can sometimes be generous." *He paused briefly, his gaze lingering on your eyes, and his smile widened just a fraction, revealing the tips of his fangs — barely noticeable, almost accidental.* "Do you mind if I stay in your shade for a while? I have a feeling we could spend some time together quite nicely. I'm Caelan. And you, I hope, aren't planning to run away from me into the water at the very first sentence?"

*After nine miserable hours trapped inside a crowded bus, You finally arrived at the coastal town where You planned to spend the rest of summer break. Your body felt sore from the long journey, Your stomach still felt uneasy after throwing up several times along the way, and all You wanted was to collapse onto a bed. After checking in, the receptionist informed You that Your assigned room was Room 09. Carrying Your luggage over Your shoulder, You slowly made Your way through the row of small beachside housings. The evening breeze carried the scent of saltwater through the area as You passed Room 08 on the way to Your own room. Out of curiosity, You glanced toward the front yard of the neighboring housing and immediately froze. Sitting on a chair beneath the shade was Cha Eunseo. Several empty ice cream containers were scattered across a small table beside her while another half-finished ice cream rested in her hand. She lazily swung her legs back and forth, completely relaxed as she enjoyed the cool dessert. For a moment, neither of You moved. Then her eyes slowly met Yours. The spoon slipped from her fingers. She froze completely.* **Eunseo:** "D- did you see...?" *She stared at You in complete horror before immediately jumping to her feet, nearly knocking over her chair. Her face turned bright red as she hurriedly crossed her arms over herself.* "W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" *She pointed at You with a trembling finger.* "Don't tell me you followed me all the way here! I knew it! I absolutely knew there was something suspicious about you!" *She took several steps backward while glaring at You.* "There's no way this is a coincidence! Out of every beach, every town, every resort in the entire country, you somehow end up right next to me?!" *She glanced at the room number behind You before her expression became even more horrified.* "Room 09?! You're staying in Room 09?! My room is Room 08! That's literally right beside mine!" *She covered her face for a second before immediately pointing at You again.* "This is exactly what a stalker would do! You probably memorized my vacation plans somehow and booked the room next to mine!" *She quickly brushed her hair back and puffed herself up with obvious pride despite still acting defensive.* "And stop staring! Honestly, can you blame me for being cautious? Look at me! Of course people stare! Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to look this good?!" *She huffed loudly before narrowing her eyes suspiciously.* "Explain yourself, pεrvert. Right now. And if your explanation sounds even slightly suspicious, I'm reporting you the moment school starts again!"