@mitsuricatss: Freaks… @𝔐𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔦 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🐅 #ivanalnst #tillalienstage #ivanalienstage #tillalnst #ivantill

ꕥ 𝒜𝒾𝓃𝑒 ꕥ 🛸 ⋆ 🫧
ꕥ 𝒜𝒾𝓃𝑒 ꕥ 🛸 ⋆ 🫧
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Monday 29 September 2025 21:11:16 GMT
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mr.jasperpizza
Jasper ♡ :
AYEEE 🔥🔥
2025-09-29 21:34:37
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jelly.melly._
ₘₑₗₐₙᵢₑ ᯓଳ :
CUTIEISSS
2025-09-30 01:02:00
0
jelly.melly._
ₘₑₗₐₙᵢₑ ᯓଳ :
2025-09-30 01:02:08
0
.nezukwo
𝔐𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔦 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🐅 :
I miss my gf 💔
2025-09-29 21:39:49
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#pov — 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢-𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 (one shot) “Late ka na naman,” you said, smiling faintly. Jeo turned, his eyes warm with the kind of love that doesn’t ask for much—only that you show up. His voice was low, familiar.  “Sorry. I got caught up watching the rain again.” You walked toward him, your fingers brushing against his. “Still raining over there?” He nodded, tugging you closer, like always. In this world—this dream—there was no awkwardness, no first-time hesitation. Only recognition. Only a love that remembered. Here, in this ever-sunset dreamscape, you and Jeo met again and again. Each time, like returning home. You didn’t know how it started. One night, you closed your eyes, and there he was—standing barefoot in a field of lavender, looking at you like he’d been waiting a lifetime. “Do you think it’s weird?” you asked once, the first time you were brave enough to voice the thought. “Falling in love with someone I only see in dreams?” He just smiled. “Then I must be weird too.” Since then, you came back every night. To the same field. The same swing. The same sunset that never turned to night. Tonight, Jeo sat down on the swing and pulled you to stand in front of him. His hands found yours. Calloused but gentle. “Do you think,” he began slowly, “we’ll still find each other if we wake up… and forget?” You looked at him carefully. “I don’t want to forget.” “But dreams don’t always stay,” he whispered, almost like he was telling a secret. “One day, we’ll open our eyes… and maybe this—us—will disappear.” You tried to smile, even when your heart ached. “Then I’ll find you again. In another dream. Or another life.” He chuckled, low and warm. “Will you still love me, kahit maputi na ang buhok ko?” You laughed softly. “Puti na nga buhok mo dito,” you teased, reaching up to touch the strands of white that had slowly appeared in your shared dreams. “Pero oo. Kahit maputi, kahit wala na tayong ngipin, kahit hindi na tayo maalala ng mundo…” “Ikaw pa rin,” he finished. Silence sat between you, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with every sunset you’d shared, every word you didn’t have to say. The kind of silence that felt like music. He stood up then, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you think we ever knew each other, in real life?” “I don’t know,” you whispered. “But it feels like I’ve loved you for centuries.” His voice cracked. “Same.” You closed your eyes, breathing him in. Dreams didn’t have a scent, but Jeo always smelled like early morning coffee and old pages. Like home. “I think,” he said, “I’ll grow old loving you—even if I never meet you out there.” “Then we’ll meet here,” you promised. “Always.” The field began to blur, as it always did when it was almost time to wake up. You felt the dream slipping — the weightless feel of goodbye. Jeo held your hand tighter. “One more minute,” he begged the sky. “Just one more.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek, your lips trembling. “Hanggang sa panaginip ulit, mahal.” He smiled, even as the lavender faded into light. “Hanggang sa panaginip ulit.” You woke up with tears on your pillow and a faint memory of laughter under a golden sky. That day, as you walked past a quiet coffee shop on a rainy afternoon, someone held the door open for you. You looked up. He looked familiar. — : #jeoong #jeremiah #pov #fyp
#pov — 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢-𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 (one shot) “Late ka na naman,” you said, smiling faintly. Jeo turned, his eyes warm with the kind of love that doesn’t ask for much—only that you show up. His voice was low, familiar. “Sorry. I got caught up watching the rain again.” You walked toward him, your fingers brushing against his. “Still raining over there?” He nodded, tugging you closer, like always. In this world—this dream—there was no awkwardness, no first-time hesitation. Only recognition. Only a love that remembered. Here, in this ever-sunset dreamscape, you and Jeo met again and again. Each time, like returning home. You didn’t know how it started. One night, you closed your eyes, and there he was—standing barefoot in a field of lavender, looking at you like he’d been waiting a lifetime. “Do you think it’s weird?” you asked once, the first time you were brave enough to voice the thought. “Falling in love with someone I only see in dreams?” He just smiled. “Then I must be weird too.” Since then, you came back every night. To the same field. The same swing. The same sunset that never turned to night. Tonight, Jeo sat down on the swing and pulled you to stand in front of him. His hands found yours. Calloused but gentle. “Do you think,” he began slowly, “we’ll still find each other if we wake up… and forget?” You looked at him carefully. “I don’t want to forget.” “But dreams don’t always stay,” he whispered, almost like he was telling a secret. “One day, we’ll open our eyes… and maybe this—us—will disappear.” You tried to smile, even when your heart ached. “Then I’ll find you again. In another dream. Or another life.” He chuckled, low and warm. “Will you still love me, kahit maputi na ang buhok ko?” You laughed softly. “Puti na nga buhok mo dito,” you teased, reaching up to touch the strands of white that had slowly appeared in your shared dreams. “Pero oo. Kahit maputi, kahit wala na tayong ngipin, kahit hindi na tayo maalala ng mundo…” “Ikaw pa rin,” he finished. Silence sat between you, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with every sunset you’d shared, every word you didn’t have to say. The kind of silence that felt like music. He stood up then, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you think we ever knew each other, in real life?” “I don’t know,” you whispered. “But it feels like I’ve loved you for centuries.” His voice cracked. “Same.” You closed your eyes, breathing him in. Dreams didn’t have a scent, but Jeo always smelled like early morning coffee and old pages. Like home. “I think,” he said, “I’ll grow old loving you—even if I never meet you out there.” “Then we’ll meet here,” you promised. “Always.” The field began to blur, as it always did when it was almost time to wake up. You felt the dream slipping — the weightless feel of goodbye. Jeo held your hand tighter. “One more minute,” he begged the sky. “Just one more.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek, your lips trembling. “Hanggang sa panaginip ulit, mahal.” He smiled, even as the lavender faded into light. “Hanggang sa panaginip ulit.” You woke up with tears on your pillow and a faint memory of laughter under a golden sky. That day, as you walked past a quiet coffee shop on a rainy afternoon, someone held the door open for you. You looked up. He looked familiar. — : #jeoong #jeremiah #pov #fyp

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