Ideal Image Novels & Stories

Immediately I entered the school and went straight to my locker to take my English textbook, my locker had a beautiful Justin Bieber wallpaper, a Bieber bear that was hung in the locker, I was about to close my locker when I heard a voice which almost scared me. it was Edward, Edward is a friend wait no, he is not a friend he’s just someone that keeps bothering me. "Hi Tori," Edward said. Edward is fair in complexion, he is tall perhaps about five feet five inches, he has blue ocean eyes, peach-colored lips, dark brown hair, thin eyebrows and he is a bit muscular

The image I had in my mind painted her as someone who dressed tastefully, perhaps in a tailored suit or a stylish dress that reflected her refined taste. Her expression, I imagined, would be friendly and welcoming, with eyes that held a twinkle of kindness and understanding. I saw her with a gentle smile, a demeanor that instantly put people at ease. She seemed to be the embodiment of an elegant queen usually appearing in children's bedtime stories. I envisioned her to be one who could effortlessly make guests feel humbled and respect her as she was, standing within her lavish abode. This mental image gave me a sense of reassurance as I walked closer into the Ludovicos' home. .

Hazel imagined the sweet taste of a cake that would not only delight the taste buds but also be a visual marvel. Scattered throughout her notebook were pictures of romantic wedding invitations, dance floors that seemed to stretch into infinity, and intimate moments captured in candid snapshots. Hazel had meticulously compiled these images to create a visual storyboard of her perfect wedding, a dream brought to life through every photograph. With each passing minute on the plane, her excitement grew. Her notebook was a treasure trove of ideas and inspiration, a manifestation of the love and passion she had poured into planning her special day. As the plane glided through the skies, Hazel knew

"H...Aah..." "Consider this as an... "abstract reality". This skill consists of creating an illusion with all the elements in its domain. To put it simply, from their point of view, they will only see what we want to show them, and what we want them to hear. For example, if I want to show them an image of you insulting Marie..." He turned towards them, and at the same moment, from their point of view, everyone saw an incredible scene. Leon, slightly beaten, turned towards them, his head reddening with anger.

That I was compatible. I thanked myself several times during the evening for my good intuition when it came to choosing a dress. Damien was right when he said it was all image. People weren't interested in your character or your good humor. They just wanted to know if you had the credentials to be among the elite and that credential was acquired through your wealth, or if you're a woman, through your beauty. We are seen as beautiful props next to the multi-millionaires. And the richer you are, the more beautiful and perfect the prop must be.

“I mean I know I want it to be something beautiful and provoke happy thoughts, and just positive energy.” Elena got to her feet; she paced across the room. “What ideas do you have?” “I have narrowed everything down to two options, A world of wonder, A picture-perfect world,” Imani responded. Elena folded her arms across her chest. She walked up to the art display. “I don’t know, it is tethering towards the ethereal side. I love this one of the solar system…” Imani came up behind her and peered at the painting. “It is wonderful…”

My fists clenched as I stared at him. “You even attended such a low-class event with him; can’t he afford to bring you to your favorite restaurant?” “This is not who you are, Aria. You are the girl who double-checks if her hands are clean before eating; you are the girl who sips coffee like her life depends on it; you don’t exchange words with others.” What was he on about? “You will only be perfect with such an image, behind your luxury clothes, classy cars, and perfectly scripted smile. That’s the only way you will be 100 percent perfect,” he spouted, and I felt my eyes become sore.

Who'd choose us over image every single time. The old Kai had been attractive but hollow. All charm and no substance. All power and no compassion. All image and no integrity. This Kai was real. Flawed but working on it. Damaged but healing. Imperfect but trying. And that was infinitely more attractive than polished arrogance had ever been.

The scene was domestic bliss. Despite not remembering much, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was living a dream. Nicola was captivating, her radiant smile lighting up the room. Her face was a perfect picture of beauty, framed by soft brown curls that cascaded down her back. Each time she turned, I caught glimpses of her curves, her breasts, her waist, and her wide hips. My mind flashed back to the intimate moments we’d shared earlier, the heat of her skin against mine.

I understood the command and hastened to comply with the orders. This little mind is a treasure, and I am sure she will become a beautiful woman when she grows up. With a soothing music vibration filling the room, I regained my original position on the bed and lay on my belly, gawking at the screen. “Mom, why would he want to find a perfect girl?” And there, my angel clicked something inside me. I gave her a flying kiss to give me something to write on. Perfection is an illusion; it’s a metaphor to recreate your expectations in a human form. It is okay to search for the one, but the question was, would you be able to fulfill her requirement of perfection?