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[lucius-official]

ooc// Public Service Announcement (TW mentions of grooming):

I know this isn't my normal content but I'm posting this on behalf of people I know who have encountered this individual, and as a warning in general to anyone who may encounter this user. This individual- nope1661 -has harassed and groomed minors online, and has sent threats to those who state that they are uncomfortable with his behaviour. Will send explicit messages despite users stating they are underage. Reports have been made to roblox but his account is still up and running.

If you encounter this user or if you have the time to do so please report them, or reblog this post to spread the message. Thank you for reading.

[sanjisleggy]

imagine being loved by me (sanji x reader) [pt2]

a/n: here’s part 2 to ‘welcome to cupid island’ :D yippee! lowkey i wanna turn this into a larger series but i have no idea what i'd wanna add lmao but if people are interested in more of this reader x sanji dynamic i’d be happy to consider :3c imma add a poll at the end of this post to see what’s the reception like. anyway pls enjoy! 

contents: some suggestive themes but nothing explicit (16+ only ty!), jealous sanji, very insecure sanji, angst to fluff, hurt/reverse comfort

wc. 2.25k

wanna be on my taglist?

PART 1

i. 

he imagines you would have an amazing life.

he imagines after you accept the proposal, you would be transformed into a beautiful queen, both regaled by your countless servants and beloved by your people. he can practically see right in front of him how King Aphr would worship the very ground you walked on, kiss the soles of your feet and the palms of your soft hands every night before ravishing you under the sheets until your eyes fill with tears of pleasure–things a mere pirate cook could never provide. 

he imagines in a few years you would have two beautiful children: a girl and a boy, of course. they would be spitting images of you–or maybe one of them would have their father’s fluffy brown hair or gorgeous eyes. whatever the genetic combination, Sanji doesn’t doubt they would be absolutely beautiful solely because they came from you. 

he imagines you living the life you deserve above everyone else on this godforsaken planet: happy, loved and safe from the dangers that come with life on the sea. you’d live a long life and be left wanting for nothing.

it’s a life Sanji cannot give you.

“oh. no, thanks.” your response to the kneeling crown prince is curt with your mouth hidden behind your hand to obscure the fact that you’re mid-chew. “i’m not interested.”

the matter-of-factness of your tone rips Sanji straight out of his self-deprecating nightmare as his head snaps in your direction. still holding his hand, you give it a soft squeeze as you maintain eye contact with your latest suitor. the entire restaurant is dead silent and even the wait staff are frozen in place, trays of freshly prepared gourmet food left to slowly cool before they can even be touched.

the Prince doesn’t hide his disappointment but he takes it better than any of the Straw Hats anticipated. if anything, they were all prepared for a fight but instead, the man simply apologises for disrupting your dinner and takes his leave. once he’s gone, you swallow your food before turning to meet Sanji’s eyes with your own. you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest when you see how teary he looks; you give his hand another squeeze before bringing the back of it to your lips and give him a soft kiss.

“we can talk about this later,” is the message your eyes convey to him and he nods in response.

although business gradually goes back to normal and the usual dining room chatter resumes, you and your group finish the rest of your meal with an odd sense of awkwardness encompassing the establishment. much to your–and Sanji’s–pleasure, however, it seems that your rejection of the Prince’s proposal is enough to ward off any other suitors, at least for the rest of dinner.

ii.

whilst some of your crewmates opt to sleep in early or explore the night market, you and your usual group of drinking buddies head to the hotel’s bar. out of habit, you find a table with four seats for Nami, Robin, Zoro and yourself, though you soon realise your mistake when you notice Sanji’s still holding onto your hand.

“what? not gonna chase skirts tonight, shitty cook?” Zoro speaks your mind. the blond chef’s grip on your hand tightens slightly.

“no, of course not, you stupid mosshead.” Sanji doesn’t elaborate any further but everyone knows the reason why: news of your rejection of the Prince hasn’t spread far enough yet, it seems, and already new faces are peering your way, presents in hand.

less than an hour passes and you’re not the only person who’s been approached by suitors: every one of your Straw Hat companions has been accosted at least three times. you try to keep count but eventually lose track when you reach double digits.

“it seems like they’re more desperate as the week comes to an end,” Robin observes, mumbling into her glass after turning down her fifteenth admirer. 

“desperate’s putting it lightly,” Zoro replies, growing more visibly annoyed as the minutes pass and he can’t seem to enjoy one drink without a man or woman shyly sneaking up on him with more homemade cookies. “they’re even going after the shitty cook, they must be more than desperate,” he adds with a snort, clearly happy to take up any opportunity possible to rile up your boyfriend.

though you can tell Zoro’s ‘joke’ bugs him, Sanji remains quiet, opting to just shoot the swordsman a sharp glare from across the round table.

“here comes another one,” Nami groans, praying she’s not the target.

unfortunately for you, her wish comes true.

Zoro’s guard dog comparison from earlier in the day rings true yet again when the man taps your shoulder to get your attention. before you can even turn to look at what they look like, Sanji’s head snaps around first. although there’s an unmistakable look of pure rage in his eyes as he scowls at the man that makes the suitor almost instantly break out into a cold sweat, the cook’s grip on your hand remains the same gentleness as always.

“fuck off!” Sanji barks, subtlety be damned. your companions each react in a similar manner, choking on their respective drinks to some degree. you even catch Zoro murmuring to himself, “goddamn.” valuing his life, the stranger turns tail and disappears in a matter of seconds.

half a minute passes and the same bitter expression is stuck to your beloved’s face. your free hand reaches up to his head before you run your fingers through his soft hair. the gesture alone seems enough to snap him back to reality as his scowl melts away to be replaced by a small smile. Sanji closes his eyes and lets out a breath, tensed shoulders relaxing as you continue to caress his head. your hand slowly trails down his face before stopping to rest on his shoulder, your palm wrapped around the base of his neck, thumb rubbing along the edge of his sharp jawline. 

your gentle ministrations send his heart into overdrive, the fragile organ threatening to beat so fast and so hard that it shatters his ribcage into nothingness. despite having known you for so long, he can’t ever seem to get used to your love.

“what a coincidence seeing you here, miss (Y/N),” a familiar voice speaks from behind you. from the looks on your crewmates’ faces, you can already tell you’re not the only one sick and tired of this island’s tradition. before anyone–even Sanji–can react to the blatant interruption, you stand up abruptly and turn around to face Prince Aphr. donning a smile, he’s dressed differently than when you first met him at dinner but his expensive clothes only serve to annoy you even further.

“i’ll only say this one more time, your highness,” you say through gritted teeth, days’ worth of built up irritation finally spilling over the edge and the unlucky target of your wrath just has to be the son of the ruler of the island–but you find it hard to care. “i’m not interested and i’ll never be interested. now, please leave me and my friends alone.”

Sanji stares up at you from his seat with his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. the last time you looked this angry was when an enemy pirate kicked Chopper like a soccer ball–and you’d gone on an absolute rampage back then. however, it seems that due to Prince Aphr’s lack of experience witnessing such devastation, he chooses to press on. as much as Sanji would love to diable jambe his royal ass, both him and the rest of the Straw Hats present at the table know you’re fully capable of handling this yourself.

“may i at least ask what it might take for you to even consider my proposal?” the prince asks. he’s either an extremely convincing actor or he’s genuinely so dense he doesn’t actually realise you’re in a relationship with the man right beside you.

“nothing.” your response seems to take him aback. “you could offer me the entire world on a silver platter and my answer would still be the same. my family is my crew and i’ve already met the love of my life.”

Sanji realises at that moment that a small part of him expected you to give an answer the prince could fulfill. when the finality of your words hits him, he can’t help the tears welling up in his eyes as his heart sinks to impossibly low depths. 

you said it all with such ease, so little effort. have i ever done the same for you? what kind of man have i been?

iii. 

Sanji twiddles his thumbs as he sits on the king sized bed, listening intently to the sound of the shower running. when it stops and he hears the slight creak of the shower door opening, he’s overcome with a great sense of anxiety, knowing that time will not stop just because he needs more time to gather his thoughts.

a few minutes later, you exit from the bathroom in a fluffy white robe, the smell of your shampoo washing over the entire hotel room. with a satisfied hum, you crawl across the bed to sit beside him.

“so,” you say gently as you grab one of his hands to play with his long fingers, “you wanna talk about anything?” the moment his eyes meet yours, all the words he painstakingly prepared to say slip right through his fingers. 

you’re so beautiful.

Sanji opens his mouth but is unable to speak, he can only breathe and stare as you patiently wait for him to let everything out. 

i don’t deserve you.

you tilt your head slightly and hum, as though trying to remind him that you’re still there. you look at him with such pure adoration, he wonders if you’re even looking at him. 

but i want you and i want your love more than anything. so please–

“don’t leave me,” Sanji finally manages to choke out, hot tears now streaming down his face. days’ worth of anger and worry finally catches up to him and he can’t do anything but slump forward to bury his face in your midsection. his lanky arms curl around your waist in a desperate attempt to hold you there, just in case you decide you don’t want him anymore.

“hey, who said anything about leaving you, my sweet boy?” you say with a light chuckle but it does nothing to hide the heaviness in your voice. you wrap your arms around his head, hugging him closer to your stomach as he sobs into your bathrobe. running your fingers of one hand through his hair just the way he likes, you continue, “what makes you think that?”

“Prince Aphr can give you everything.” Sanji pulls his head away just enough to speak clearly but not far enough to break away from your warm embrace. “and i can’t. up until we arrived here–ever since we started dating–i couldn’t even stop flirting with women right in front of you and for what?!”

you shush him when he starts to raise his voice and you feel his fingers tighten their grip on the back of your bathrobe. “it’s okay–”

“no, it’s not,” he cuts you off. “how am i supposed to call myself yours if i can’t even treat you with the respect you deserve? i’m sorry, (Y/N), i’m so sorry i took for granted how open you are with the way i am around other women. just seeing the way so many people wanted to steal you away these past few days, and how you turned them all down, made me realise i’ve been a shitty boyfriend–”

deciding that you’ve heard enough, you lean back to separate his face from your body and use your hands to gently tilt his head up so that your eyes meet. Sanji stares almost pitifully up at you, his own hands still holding on for dear life onto your robe as his long legs splay out behind him across the large bed.

“you’re far from a shitty boyfriend, my love,” you sniffle, feeling tears of your own forming in your eyes, “you take such good care of me. you feed me anything i want, fuss over me when i’m sick, protect me in battle. you always let me shower first aboard the Sunny so i get all the hot water.” cupping his face in between your palms, you rub the pads of your thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “you look at me like i hung the stars and the moon in the sky,” you say with a choked laugh, unable to help feeling a bit embarrassed admitting such a thing aloud, “sometimes i don’t even know how to live up to that.”

Sanji takes in a shaky breath as he nuzzles his face into your right hand so you lightly scratch his scalp with your left. the sensation pleases him so much he swears he nearly starts purring. 

“how did i get so lucky?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“how did i get so lucky?” you reply with a laugh before leaning down to brush your lips against his forehead. 

already Sanji feels the aching in his heart slowly fade away, leaving behind a soreness that’s sure to persist but he’s certain that it, too, will disappear over time as long as you’re by his side. 

–

tags: @mlpandr63 @wifeofladyqu @strawberrysanzu @qui-sap @secretlife028 @the-avengers-not-the-nazis @peachycat17 @xiaothedgyemo @chaseyui @certain-tragedies @amei-draws-stuff @carmen-skullz @cobainlover @lara-christensen-me @shondlenoodle @teewon @makingmammonmoves @carmendanny2

[wave2tyun]

gold rush | ☆

pairing: yeonjun x reader

genre: highschool!au, band member!yeonjun, friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

prompts: “make me”

“mine”

warnings: none!

word count: 2k

a/n: gold rush anon i don't know if you are still around but if you see this by chance i miss you, and this repost goes out to you<33 ily!!!!😔😔✊💞💞

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

• credit to @/kilibae_0913 on twitter for the yeonjun pic!!

“earth to y/n” yeonjun waved his hand in front of your face “are you even listening to me right now?”

“no- yeah” you blurted out “fuck- sorry, can you repeat that again?”

you and yeonjun were sitting in the school’s cafeteria at your usual spot. as much as you loved talking with him, the history test you took earlier had you completely zoning out. you were too stressed wondering whether you actually wrote the correct answers or whether you messed up all the events again.

“ah- cute” he chuckled, putting his arm around your shoulder. this had always been a regular occurrence: a quick compliment muttered underneath his breath, followed by some sort of physical touch. to him- it was probably just normal behavior, he had a pretty charming and flirty persona after all. but to you? the moment those playful remarks leave his mouth, you can feel your cheeks flushing red in anticipation of his next actions. and you hated it- you hated how you had little to no control over how your body would react to his touch or his words, how your feelings are left in plain sight.

“so-“ yeonjun resumed the conversation “i was asking whether you-” he pointed a finger to your face “-are coming to the music festival tonight. our band is playing- the principal signed us up” a proud smile took over his face.

you bit the inside of your cheek. the music festival? it didn’t exactly sound like a great idea. ever since yeonjun’s band had started gaining popularity, people were all over him. it was bad enough that you had to handle this at school: shushed whispers as others saw him talking to you, girls giggling whenever they passed by him in the hallways. everybody wanted him- everybody wondered what it would be like to be loved and adored by choi yeonjun, including you. but you never had the guts to tell him anything. if continuing to be in his presence meant that you were only supposed to remain his friend, then you were content with that.

the music festival would only make you wallow yourself in even more self-pity. people from all over the town were going to attend it, not just students and teachers from your school, and you weren’t sure whether you could handle seeing everybody’s heart eyes upon seeing yeonjun. however, you couldn’t just choose not to go. you had to set your own feelings aside and put his first.

sensing your hesitation, yeonjun cleared his throat before speaking again “you know i’m not taking ‘no’ as an answer- you have to be there, you’re my good luck charm”

“i know, dummy” you sighed “of course i’ll be there” you playfully flicked his forehead, making sure to put on your best smile so that he wouldn’t feel your lingering worries. yeonjun returned the favour, lightly flicking your forehead back, only to rub the spot with his thumb right after, attempting to soothe your pain.

“thank you, i knew i could count on you” he whispered.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“looking for yeonjun?” beomgyu (yeonjun’s bandmate) asked you. you were standing near the backstage entrance. yeonjun had asked you to meet him in their waiting room, but you were unsure whether you were even allowed past this door. you didn’t exactly have valid proof to show the guards that someone wanted you in there.

“yeah, i texted him to come pick me up but he still hasn’t read my messages” you rubbed the nape of your neck.

“that fool- he’s too busy nervously pacing around the room to check his phone. i’ll help you get in- come on” beomgyu offered.

you thanked him, relieved that you didn’t have to put your ‘sneaking in’ skills to the test. you didn’t have much faith in them, cause 2 out of 3 times you’ve done that before you got caught. seeing beomgyu by your side, the guards didn’t question anything, and you made it in safely.

beomgyu knocked on the door only after entering “you’ve got visitors” he said, then turned on his heel, ready to return to what he was previously doing. yeonjun got up from the couch, the frown on his face gone upon seeing you “you’re here” he smiled, opening his arms wide to capture you in his embrace, swinging your body from side to side

“if someone had checked their phone- i could have arrived here even earlier” you complained. you had to think of some way to repay beomgyu after this.

“i’m so sorry about that” yeonjun broke the hug “but i’ve got a good excuse for it” he walked to the couch to rummage through his bag. “and that is?” you questioned him, quirking up an eyebrow.

“i was busy getting you this” yeonjun put a lanyard through your head. it was a vip badge “now you get to enjoy the show from the first row- and i get to look at you from the stage”

there it went again- that rose blush that loved to take over your cheeks. how could he say that so casually? so nonchalantly? you couldn’t help but wonder whether there was truly no meaning behind his actions “thank you, jun” you played with the badge in your hands “are you nervous?”

yeonjun stretched his neck, then his arms, humming “not really, now that i’ve seen you- definitely not” you pushed his shoulders, laughing together at his cheesy words.

“good luck then. i should get going, you probably need to carry on with the preparations” you said.

“see you after the show?” he asked.

“yeah, see you” you repeated, twisting the doorknob to take your leave.

the venue was starting to get pretty crowded, although it was still quite early. you had your own spot secured, thanks to yeonjun’s little trick. not knowing many others from around you, you scrolled through your phone until the lights dimmed down, the quiet murmurs being replaced by loud cheers. the host’s voice erupted loudly from the speakers: “coming in hot from woolim high school to kick off our night- tomorrow x together”

people’s screams were getting increasingly louder as the five boys got on stage, almost making your ears bleed. you were seriously debating whether you should have brought earplugs with you or not. yeonjun took his place at the mic stand in the center, electric guitar hanging from his shoulders.

“is everybody ready for tonight?” yeonjun asked the crowd, his question being met with an overwhelming enthusiasm from the crowd “let’s get this started then- taehyun, drop the beat” he shouted.

you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him perform, yeonjun was exactly in his element. nobody there could deny it, the place where he belonged to be was the stage. even song after song, his energy didn’t seem to drop, not one single bit, the venue almost burning from his passion.

his hair fell into place like dominos, body glistening under the golden spotlight. god- what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? that question continued to run through your mind with each passing moment, and it didn’t seem like you were the only one experiencing that. you looked around, noticing how everybody’s eyes were glued on yeonjun, screaming, fawning over him, begging him to take their phones and film like he did to others. they desperately wanted to gain, in some sort of way, his attention. you didn’t exactly understand the feeling that was beginning to take over you. you couldn’t even pin-point it. jealousy? disappointment? the realisation that in a room full of people that wanted him, there would be slim chances that he’d pick you, was beginning to settle in.

everything was starting to get all too overwhelming, in a way, suffocating. you couldn’t bear to stay in there, even though txt’s setlist was close to ending. pushing through the crowd, you struggled to get out of the massive swarm of people. you somehow managed to get outside, breathing in the night’s crisp air slowly.

‘fuck’

you left your bag in the band’s waiting room. you glanced over at your watch, praying that you had enough time to get in and out of there without bumping into yeonjun. you didn’t know how long it would take him to notice you missing.

luckily, that same guard that you saw with beomgyu was still standing at the backstage entrance. knowing that you were a familiar face, and noticing your badge as well, he allowed you to walk past after explaining your situation. you also slipped in a little lie, saying that you were feeling unwell and had to go back home quickly, just to make sure that he wouldn’t get in your way.

your eyes frantically scanned the room, searching for the small black bag that you had brought along with you. it was placed neatly on the coat hanger. you reached out to take it, your body freezing on the spot after hearing the door open. yeonjun abruptly entered the room. he placed his hands on his knees, panting as he was struggling to breathe properly. it seemed like he ran to get there right after the last performance “are you leaving?” he asked, chest heaving “why? are you okay- did something happen?”

you put your hand down, your gaze shifting from his face to the floor. you gulped- you got caught. you knew that you were supposed to face him again, one way or another, but you weren’t prepared to do it tonight, not when your head was such a big mess "i can't be around you" you admitted. every single part of your body didn’t want to be there, in that situation. your words received a frown from yeonjun. he was confused, he didn’t know why you were saying that all of a sudden "why?" he probed on further, coming closer to you. "you know why” your voice trailed off, eyes searching everywhere except for his own “you just fail to accept it. recognize it"

“then do it” yeonjun took another step closer “help me understand so i can accept it” he wrapped your hand in both of his, bringing it close to his chest. you looked at the way he was holding on to you, stopping you from simply running away from him. you shook your head, trying to swallow the heavy lump that was forming in your throat. you couldn’t find the strength to explain your feelings out loud. “why?” he repeated once more, still not satisfied with your answers “i want you to do it. if you want me to accept it- make me” yeonjun spoke softly, thumb rubbing the back of your hand “why won’t you let your heart control your actions for once instead of your mind?”

his words kept ringing in your mind, each time winning a little bit more over the thoughts that had been relentlessly holding you back. you blinked away the tears forming in your eyes, slowly retracting your hand away from yeonjun’s, his smile starting to fade. “please don’t hate me after this” you whispered, placing your hands on his shoulders as you rose to the tips of your feet, capturing his lips in a short peck. yeonjun’s lips lingered, barely 1 cm away from yours, curving up into a smile. his hands found their way on your waist, holding you close to him “i’ve always wanted to do this with you” he chuckled, dipping his head down for more. his kiss was tentative and slow. it felt tender, yet full of passion, like he was pouring all of his bottled up feelings through this delicate touch “mine” he whispered in between “i want to call you mine”

this time, his words didn’t make heat rise only to your cheeks. instead, you felt warmth spread throughout your whole body. your hands cupped his cheeks and you reached out for another kiss “i’m all yours” you muttered against his lips. you rested your forehead against his, the close proximity not letting your palpitating heart calm down, not even for one bit. but you enjoyed it, you loved the way it felt to have his body close to you, to finally have him truly own your heart, and you owning his.

the door opened briefly, then got slammed shut just one second after, startling both you and yeonjun “i told you he’d kiss her” beomgyu shouted at his members.

taglist: @huekalover3000 @maybabe00 @sunoooism @boba-beom @ujisworld

[creepswrites]

MASK OF HATE (CH 2) | Michael x Reader

so when i was writing this, my editor Insisted i use a grilled cheese gif for this chapter. you'll see why... i hope you enjoy though LMAO

MICHAEL MYERS x FTM!READER (he/him)

SUMMARY: When the door slammed back open with more force this time, you jumped and let out a surprised yelp. Your dad came barreling in, Michael having already disappeared back upstairs as quiet as he'd come. You tried to intercept him from storming upstairs but his horrified expression stilled you. "That was our neighbor Gladys down the street. She said she saw Myers come up to our house about an hour and a half ago."

WARNING: graphic depiction of deaths, animal violence

PREV || NEXT

"Has anyone ever shown you kindness?" Your voice had Michael opening his eyes, blinking as he looked up at you slowly, your hands tangled in his wet, sudsy hair. He was sprawled out on the porcelain bathtub while you washed his hair, the room dim and sleepy and smelling of lavender soap. He had no qualms letting his legs and arms rest upon the rim to have extra room. You’d since become accustomed to him, no longer flushing at his nakedness, so washing the blood off his skin didn’t bother you.

You’d since bought black washcloths and a black towel for Michael so your father wouldn’t get suspicious about any bloodstains. Lounge clothes - some sweatpants and a t-shirt finally in his actual size - sat folded on the counter beside the sink, his navy blue jumpsuit in a pile on the cool, linoleum floor.

For the past few weeks, you two established a routine of sorts. Michael would get hurt or hungry and come visit you. Sometimes he'd watch you sleep but he'd usually be gone by morning. With your dad's presence in the house very touch and go, it was hard for Michael to stay for any extended period of time. Sometimes he watched you from a distance whenever you'd go in the garden but that was the extent of it.

You knew it wasn't normal for him to care about another person so you did your best to make it easy for him. No more lunging at armed police officers for you, you'd lamented to him in a joking manner. You hadn't been able to see his face but you got the impression he'd glared at you.

You'd also taken to touching him more, getting him to reassociate touch with compassion. It wasn't easy to undo years of trauma but you did little things here and there. Brushing his hands with your own, touching his arm when you wanted attention, small things. He was building a tolerance to it, you could tell. Washing his hair now was the most you'd touched him beyond patching him up after run-ins with the police.

But progress was progress.

Today, he hadn't come home bloody but he had come to you for something. He'd shown up at the backdoor, made a beeline for the bathroom, and you'd gotten the message. Bathing him had also become pretty regular, though you still recalled the first few times where it'd ended with him shaking from how overwhelmed he was by your touch.

Now, though, his gaze bore into you, staring up at you like a big lazy cat. Like a lion too content to strike. Your hands had stilled, still poised to scrub at his scalp. He needed a haircut, you noted to yourself.

"Besides me," you clarified as you resumed scrubbing in slow circles. "You don't… You're-" You huffed, trying to find the words. "I feel like people didn't care for you like you needed them to. If that makes sense." 

Were you anyone else, you don't doubt he'd kill you for saying that. Instead, he just glared at you, pretty hazel eyes narrowed to slits. In anger or confusion, you couldn't tell.

That was yet another development. He'd been taking his mask off of his own accord now, even when he didn't have a reason to. The first time he'd done it had been because his hair was too long and sat uncomfortable in the mask, tickling against his ears and neck. You offered to cut it and, while it took some reassurance and thought on his part, you'd come home one day to him sitting on your bed. Scissors in one hand and mask in the other, clutching it like a child would to a security blanket. He hadn't been shaking or looking up at you with fearful eyes but his jaw had been clenched hard as he white knuckled the accursed mask. A wordless question you'd answered with nimble fingers and gentle tugging on his curls.

Having something so sharp close to his vulnerable neck hadn't been his idea of a good time regardless if it was his idea or not. He'd gotten up half a dozen times during the haircut to stand in the corner to come down from what was probably overstimulation. You were patient with him though.

You'd gotten better at reading him. He'd gotten better at leaving you clues.

In the present, he sat up and slid his legs back into the water. Wet hair slipped from between your fingers as he turned to properly stare at you. Michael was interesting to you still. You could tell he was curious about you too. He stared at you often, like when you watered your plants, washed his clothes, or made food in the kitchen. You felt his eyes on you constantly no matter what.

"What?" You asked with a small sigh, staring back at him with the same intensity.

Michael gave you a slow blink, similar to the ones Mayhem gave you as a show of trust. "Don't gimme that," you teased, smirking at him and motioning for him to sit back down. "I just- I always feel bad thinking about it, in retrospect. I mean, you grew up in an asylum alone. Didn't it-"

He interrupted you by sliding a wet hand around your throat, holding you still as though to physically stop your ramblings. Not squeezing, just holding. You got the message there: let it go. He lay back down and you resumed washing his hair, unbothered by that exchange.

Things like that were normal with him. It had freaked you out at first when he'd wrapped his hand harshly around your throat and pinned you in a doorway. But you'd slowly begun to understand him. He didn't have a way to communicate that wasn't through violence or knives.

Or hospital rooms under scrutiny, you reminded yourself with a grimace. You masked it behind a soft tune you hummed, resuming washing his hair.

Once he was cleaned and dressed, jumpsuit in the wash, you ventured back downstairs to make dinner and feed Mayhem. Michael trailed after you, hair dripping dark spots along his shoulders where it was still damp. He didn't like the hair dryer very much and only tolerated you using it to get his hair comfortably damp. No more.

“You’re probably due for another haircut by the way,” you said as you opened the fridge. Mayhem was immediately rubbing up on Michael’s leg, meowing insistently.

He looked down at her, standing comfortably in the doorway to the kitchen. You glanced over your shoulder to look at him and felt struck with the knowledge that, if it weren't for his injured eye breaking the illusion, it almost felt like you just had a boyfriend over. Your face warmed up at the thought and you snapped your head back around to stare into the white, chilled expanse of the fridge. "Umm… anything specific you want tonight?"

When you looked back over at him, you jumped in surprise when he was barely a few inches from you. Jesus, you thought to yourself. You didn't think you'd ever get used to how quiet he moved sometimes.

Michael tilted his head as he stared at the fridge with you. "I need to go shopping soon, huh?"

He didn't say anything but you could almost hear his nod.

You liked how expressive he'd gotten as the two of you began to trust each other. Little things like that made the whole thing feel domestic somehow. 

"Well, hope you like grilled cheese." You snagged the almost-empty package of sliced cheese and dangled it tantalizingly. "I'll go shopping tomorrow, promise. If you want anything in particular, let me know." You said as you grabbed the bread from the cabinet. Before he could say - or, technically, not say - you spun on your heel. "Besides pumpkin pie."

He nodded once and you smirked.

Domestic, your brain said again in an almost mocking tone. You swallowed and tried to focus on the sandwiches and not the way Michael stared at you. You began buttering the bread as the pan warmed up and tried to not envision life being like this forever: painfully domestic and sweet with Haddonfield's best known serial killer in soft lounge clothes you'd bought him, curled up on the couch eating an early lunch together after you'd washed his hair.

The sound of the front door rattling open was out of place and terrifying. Never in your life had you felt as though the ground would swallow you as your heart threatened to pound out of your chest. You spun to face Michael and quickly assessed your options.

There were two doorways that led out of the kitchen - one that faced the living room and another that led into the hallway to the stairs. There was a dividing wall between the two doorways. Meaning if you could get Michael into the hallway, he'd be out of sight for at least the briefest few seconds it took your dad to walk towards you.

"Upstairs, now!" You whisper-yelled, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him towards the hallway. "Stay quiet, he'll go away soon."

Hopefully, you thought to yourself. Hopefully he will.

"You're home early." You called to him as you took your spot at the stove again, spreading butter on bread and placing them in the pan.

Your dad sounded exhausted, shrugging off his outer coat and tossing it atop the back of the couch before slumping in his chair. "I decided to come home early. It's been an exhausting week. But Myers seems to be taking a break from killing these past few days."

You couldn't help but frown. Not killing? Sure you'd noticed less blood on his clothes but surely he'd stopped altogether. So close to Halloween too…

"Cool, I was, uh, making lunch." You called out over the pan sizzling. "You want some?"

The telltale creaks of the wooden floor had your hair standing up on end. It wasn't like normal sneaking around when you had a boyfriend, this was Michael Myers you were hiding. Right under his nose. Even if your dad didn't immediately go for his gun when he saw him, you were still a liar. And an accomplice to his crimes.

"Grilled cheese, huh?" He smiled for the first time since he'd taken on the case. "Want some help? I can-" The sound of his phone ringing cut him off, making him grimace. "I'll take this outside," he sighed as he went back out the door. You sighed with relief and looked towards the doorway to the stairs.

Michael stood there, mask on, gripping a knife tight in his hand. You had no idea where he'd gotten it, since your knives were accounted for.

You tried to seem reassuring. "He's probably going to get called back into work, it's okay." Even though you'd gotten used to it, you still swallowed when you saw the glint of the knife in the dim lighting of the doorway. "He, um, he said you haven't been killing lately?" 

Michael was eerily still. Just staring at you.

"Is everything…okay?" It felt a bit weird asking when he was going to kill someone again. Like it was just a casual hobby of his. "Just let me know, alright?"

He just stared at you. His walls were back up, you could tell, so you tried to not take it personally.

When the door slammed back open with more force this time, you jumped and let out a surprised yelp. Your dad came barreling in, Michael having already disappeared back upstairs as quiet as he'd come. You tried to intercept him from storming upstairs but his horrified expression stilled you. "That was our neighbor Gladys down the street. She said she saw Myers come up to our house about an hour and a half ago." His gun was out, alarming you. "Have you… have you seen anything?"

"No." You swallowed around your lie, quickly turning the stove off, lunch forgotten. "No, it's been quiet. I was out in my garden, mostly."

He didn't seem convinced though. "She said he was circling around the house before coming inside."

At that, he froze. He held a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet. You wanted to roll your eyes at how comical this was but you also couldn't afford to break character. Scared young child of the police detective, home alone with a killer in this house. 

"Where's your cat?" He whispered, glancing up at the ceiling as though expecting to hear footsteps.

Glancing around, you tried to play up your alarm. "I don't know!" You whisper-yelled. "Do you think he's-?"

"Dead, then." Your dad's bluntness made you flinch. "Myers usually kills the pets first. Keeps 'em from sounding an alarm." He didn't even try to look sympathetic as he crept towards the stairs. You followed after him as he crept silently from room to room, pushing the door open slightly before scanning the room with his gun out. It made you anxious and you kept periodically glancing towards your bedroom, dreading the impending inspection. First the hall closet, then his bedroom, then the bathrooms, and finally: your bedroom.

You felt sweat drip down your temple as he pushed open the door. Everything felt tense, suffocating you as you chewed anxiously on the nail of your thumb.

He swung open the closet door and fired at the first sign of movement.

Mayhem yowled, a sharp, piercing sound, then darted past your legs as he took off down the hall. "MAYHEM!" You shrieked in horror, watching blood trail behind him faster than you could catch him. You ignored your dad's stammered apologies and took off after your cat.

The blood trail went down the stairs and out through the back door, which had been left cracked open to let Mayhem come and go as he pleased. Now he was gone. Your heart sank as you ran outside, crying for Mayhem to come back. In the tall, mud-riddled forest it was hard to see any kind of blood trail or spot your all black cat. Minutes ticked by with no response and you fell to your knees, wrapping your arms around yourself as you bawled.

He was your little kitty. And now he was gone.

"Sweetheart, I- I'm so sorry. I didn't know he was there." Your dad tried to explain as he watched you from the doorway. "It- It'll come back, I'm sure."

"You SHOT him!" You rounded on him almost instantly, storming up to meet him and relishing in the way he backed up in fear of your anger. "You SHOT him and now he might DIE out there!" While you didn't consider yourself an angry nor violent person, it felt vindicating to shove him and watch him stumble back. "You don't even CARE!"

"No, I don't!" He shouted, trying to scare you back. "It's just a cat! What if Myers had been there, huh?"

You felt hysteric. "I don't care about that! Fuck, dad, I care about my CAT!"

Suddenly, he'd grabbed you by the shoulders and slammed you into the nearby wall, his voice hissing like a viper when he spoke. "I don't give a shit about your fucking cat. I am stressed enough as it is and I am focused on finding Michael fucking Myers, not your shitty little cat. Let. It. Go."

The sign of movement in the shadows behind him made you smile.

Michael grabbed your dad by the back of his shirt and yanked him back harshly, letting him fall to the kitchen floor. He stood there, knife tight in his fist as he stood over the whimpering man who scrambled for his gun. 

You watched with an empty expression as Michael kicked the gun aside, skittering on the tiled floor and out of reach. "Grab it!" He hissed at you. Michael tilted his head down at him but he tried to not be intimidated. "Grab my gun, just-"

Reality began to settle in as shock wore off. Your ears were still ringing from the gunshots and you could smell the charred butter coming off the stove. "Michael." Your mouth moved but you didn't feel like your words were yours. "I'm okay."

A heavy boot thudded against your dad's chest and you watched him scramble to try and understand. The dark pits of the mask's eye holes bore into you, almost searching for permission.

"You've been hiding him." Your dad gasped in horror. "You've been hiding the man I've been hunting. Right. Under. My fucking nose!" He roared, struggling to get out from under Michael, only ending up grabbed like a scruffed kitten in his attempts to lunge at you. "How long!? How long has he been hiding here?!"

You didn't feel like answering. So you didn't.

He didn't like that though. "What have you two been doing? What, do you nurse him back to health under my fucking roof every night? Is that why you've been buying first aid shit?"

None of this felt real to you in any substantial way. It felt like a movie almost, a sick indie film about a serial killer you'd grown attached to finally snapping and slaughtering your family because you'd finally given him the chance to get close. You watched Michael press the tip of his knife to your dad's sternum and could almost see the anger and hatred rolling off the masked man in waves.

After all, you'd given him a hard line of not hurting Mayhem. And your dad just broke that rule.

You backed up against the fridge and slid to the floor, watching with a distant expression as Michael wrestled the man to the floor. "Yeah." You said quietly, more to yourself than to him. "I clean him. Bandage him. He protects me." A wet laugh left your throat at the absurdity of it all. "We're partners."

No point in hiding it anymore.

"M-maybe I should call Loomis, s-see if I can get you two joint rooms in the fucking asylum-!" The man below Michael yelled out, his words muffling as Michael jabbed the knife into him. Wet squelching sounds that became almost monotonous as hot red sprays erupted from the holes in his neck. Puddles of red seeped beneath the man's body and Michael seemed to relish in the thrill.

"You killed my cat," you mumbled bitterly to the corpse of the man you once called dad.

And you watched as the body ran cold with Michael's anger. He stood up, towering over you as he tracked bloody footprints as he approached you. "Hi." You said absently, giving him a small smile. "You'll have to kill our neighbor. No witnesses."

He tilted his head curiously and you just let your head fall between your knees. You didn't want to talk about this anymore than you had to. "Just- Just get rid of the body, okay? I'll clean up."

Had you looked up, you would have seen his nod.

The stench of bleach burned your nose and made your eyes water as you scrubbed at the now blood-free kitchen floor. You'd opened the windows to air out the smell but it still felt like it was suffocating. But there was no evidence anymore, thank god.

You didn't ask Michael what he'd done with the bodies. You'd kept your head down when he'd lifted it up and carried it with him out the back door and you were content not knowing. It would only serve to upset you.

Clutching the rim of the sink, you let out a long, pained sigh. Things were going to change now. Your father and Mayhem's blood was all gone, the knives would be disinfected, and Michael's jumpsuit would go through the wash again. No evidence any of this had even happened.

Logically, you knew this should upset you. It did, only in the sense that the wet plunging sounds of the knife echoed in your mind. But you couldn't feel anything beyond anger that he'd shot Mayhem. That he didn't care about you, only his work. It infuriated you to think about how little your life would change with him gone. The house was bought and paid for, you knew everything he owned would be left to you, and life would continue on.

He didn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. You repeated this mantra over and over to yourself as you heard the back door open.

Michael stood there, his hands and suit stained with blood. Flecks of dark red stained the white mask in harsh streaks that made you want to hurl. "How, um, how did it go?" You tried giving him a smile but fell short. He approached you and you did your best to hide your flinch when he took your wrist. Red stained your skin and you heard the sickening stabbing again. "Sorry," you mumbled, "I should have done something to- to try to make him leave, or-"

Michael cut you off with a harsh tug on your arm. Your head snapped up to meet his eyes behind the mask, your own wide in confusion. He just stared you down, only gripping you tighter when you tried to pull away.

His silent question felt loud in the little kitchen, even if he said nothing. "I'm… I'll be okay." But you weren't sure if you were telling that to him or yourself. "It was inevitable. I- I just didn't think it would be so soon. But, um, I knew I was… I knew I was going to be sticking with you. Partners, right?"

You didn't wait for any type of response, gesturing to his jumpsuit. "Lets, um, get you into clean clothes, yeah?"

Michael didn't budge.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he lifted his hand towards your face, dragging a bloody finger down your cheek and marveled at the way it stained your skin. A red to match his own,

And as quickly as he came, he left. His footfalls were heavy as he went up to the bathroom and left you floundering in the kitchen. You broke from your trance only when you heard the shower running. Swallowing, you followed his trail upstairs to collect his bloody clothes. You could only hope the blood was fresh enough to come out easy.

When you passed by Mayhem's food dish, you winced at the memory of your cat's blood streaked across the house. You filled his bowls and set them outside, hoping the prospect of dinner would entice him home. 

It was the best you could do, really…

The cops came two days later. When no one on the force had seen or heard from him in a few days, they'd come by to check. It wasn't hard to play up your distress. The five stages of grief had hit you harder than expected. On the first day, you'd just yelled at Michael, slamming your fists into his chest as he watched you curiously. You'd wondered to yourself after sobbing over breakfast how he'd felt after his sister died. You'd only ever heard stories but you wanted to ask him.

"We found him off a backroad down the way with an older woman in the car," the officer interviewing you asked. "Do you have any idea what that was about?"

You swallowed and shook your head. "He, um, he mentioned he got a call from Gladys. That, uh, Myers was outside her house so- so he told me he was going to take her to a hotel and then go back to work." Your voice trembled as you spoke. "H-he'd been working so much, I-" 

The officer gave you a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry, kid." 

Michael was easily named the killer so you weren't even considered a suspect. What they didn't know was that he was taking this opportunity while the police were busy to kill again, letting out his frustrations that had been building up. 

He hadn't left you alone since your dad had died. Always hovering in doorways or your wrist if you were close enough. You knew Michael well enough at this point to know he didn't necessarily feel bad for what he did. But he was certainly capable of fearing your reaction. You could easily turn him in now, all wound up emotions like a ticking time bomb.

But you didn't. You were partners. A pact now sealed in your father's blood

Once the police left, you wanted to get out of the house. It all felt too suffocating. You just needed a moment without Michael's eyes on you, if such a thing existed. So you'd gotten dressed into proper clothes and went into town. You knew the whole town would be looking at you so you tried to keep yourself presentable while still looking a wreck.

Which wasn't hard, after everything that happened.

News reports of your dad's false crime scene would be all over the news in a day. All over the televisions, newspapers, and your dad's police buddies would be sharing stories in bars over drinks. You felt sick at the knowledge that he'd had a life outside you and your little bubble of fake domesticity with a serial killer.

It all felt like a huge reality check that left you stumbling like a drunk on the curbside.

You snapped back to your body as you stared emptily at some crummy greeting cards in the little general store. You'd been walking the aisles with no clear goal in mind and many of the other patrons simply let you pass with pitiful smiles that made your skin crawl. "I should've looked at the fridge…" You mumbled to no one.

"Hey." A soft voice interrupted your train of thought and you gave a glance over your shoulder. Laurie Strode, dressed in all black like she was attending a funeral. Maybe she was - a funeral for the town. You knew the paranoia of Michael stalking her never really went away and you felt a little bad for her. A part of you wished you could reassure her.

“Oh, um, hi.” You stuttered inelegantly. “What- um-“

“I’m sorry,” she gave you a sorrowful look. You were getting pretty sick of those. “I heard about your dad… Michael is ruthless.”

You swallowed around a lump building in your throat. “Y-yeah. I hope, um, you’re doing okay too.” You tried to give her a reassuring smile but you weren’t sure if it came out like a grimace.

Laurie just laughed, no joy behind her tight smile. “I’ll survive. Always do.”

You said your polite goodbyes and you left her, now even more uneasy. It was jarring to be reminded that life existed outside your little house in the forest, that Michael's actions had consequences that spread far beyond just you.

It made you wonder if Michael’s intentions were what you thought they were. He’d never leave Haddonfield. Not willingly. He’d continue killing with or without you in his life.

And that knowledge made you feel sick.

Your dad's funeral was mostly uneventful. A few of his work friends came to console you but you denied their company when you went to the cemetery. Your dad had told you many times when you were young that, when he died, he wanted to be poured into water used to help grow flowers on your late mothers grave. It had struck you as odd then but now you understood.

Guilt still ate at you. He'd probably haunt you if he didn't get to be reunited with your mom in some way, so you'd bought some daisies - her favorite, according to him - and brought them with his ashes and a bottle of water. Haddonfield's graveyard was nothing spectacular, just rows and rows of headstones. Some newer with fresh flowers and photos, some older and covered in moss and dirt. The forgotten ones always made your heart clench.

You pointedly kept your head down when you passed Judith Myers' grave. Her parents had a joint headstone beside her, a spot they'd reserved for themselves a year after she'd died. According to stories, they'd believed Michael deserved nothing but cremation. No tombstone, no funeral, just death in silence.

The fate of the Myers family had been a horrible story. Even after their son was shipped off to Smith's Grove, the family still received harsh criticisms for what they'd done. While Michael's actions were certainly the focus, some people still believed the parents had some sway in it or had influenced his behavior. He'd only been a little boy, after all. A possibly mentally ill, neglected child whose parents had, allegedly, favored Judith to the point Michael acted out.

A car crash killed them, according to the news. You weren't sure. The timings had been too close and their funerals had been closed caskets. But you'd been too young to really care about that sort of thing. Now, though, you were curious. It felt like you'd get answers somehow if you knew. Regardless, Michael was left without guardianship and became a ward of the state, locked away in a hospital for fifteen years. At first, the town didn't know what to think of him. The poor, unstable boy who now had no one waiting for him if he ever got out. Many villainized him, of course, but some wanted to see him make a full recovery. They saw a traumatized child who needed help.

It was only after Michael broke out of Smith’s Grove and killed again that public opinion on him changed.

You pushed those thoughts away and focused on kneeling before your mothers grave. Your fingers were still damp from the wet earth you'd pulled out as you'd dug a little hole for the flowers all on autopilot. The little flowers looked nice, spots of white and yellow against mucky browns and greens. This wasn't that different from gardening, you thought to yourself as you added the water into the jar of your father's ashes. Not that different at all.

It felt a bit weird. But it was his wish. After everything you'd done, the least you could do was honor that. Besides, you didn’t really think you could cope with having the jar of his ashes in the house you’d let him die in. So you poured the water over the flowers, dirt under your nails as you showered them graciously.

You'd never made a habit of talking to your mom's grave. Your dad did it a few times and you'd seen people doing it before but there was just no appeal to you. Talking to air felt weird and you weren't exactly going to start now. You'd never known your mom, she didn't need to hear your stories.

She’d died when you were young so it wasn't like you knew her. The concept of a mother meant more to you than who she specifically did. When you were growing up, sometimes you'd feel a longing absence that she wasn't there but the woman buried beneath your feet still meant nothing to you. A stranger whose photos lined the walls of your dad's bedroom - photos you would probably store in the attic. Like you'd never really known them. A part of your dad died with your mom anyways so the symbolism felt right.

He’d always go on and on about how much you looked like her, how similar you two were, that sort of crap. Now, staring at her headstone, you wondered what she’d think of you.

The feeling of eyes on you has become commonplace for you now. An is-ness rather than a concern. So you didn't even bother lifting your head. Just slumped forward, cross-legged, and picking at the dirt under your nails, flicking it at the daisies. "Do you ever miss them?" You asked aloud. You knew Michael was close enough to hear, especially since you were alone. "Your parents, I mean. I doubt you miss your sister too much. I mean, I heard what you did with her headstone when you killed those high schoolers." The bitterness in your tone was not missed but it didn't feel right to put words in his mouth.

"I'm still trying to decide how I feel." You sighed, poking at soft petals. "I never knew my mother so I can't miss her. She wasn't part of my life, only her ghost was. But I don't know how I feel about my dad dying. It always felt like I was competing with her for his affection. He loved her so much and could barely spare me a passing glance…" You swallowed and your throat clicked. "Sometimes I wonder if he'd have been happier if I had died and she'd lived.

If Michael Myers had to be the one to hear your confessions, at least you knew he wouldn't tell anyone.

You wiped your eyes and sniffled. "It's weird. I haven't decided if I hate him for that yet. If I hate him at all, even." When you looked up, Michael was staring down at you, face hidden behind the mask. You almost envied his ability to simply hide his feelings away. You'd never been able to avoid wearing your heart on your sleeve. "Do you ever think about if your parents wished it had been you instead of Judith?"

The silence felt suffocating and you broke into a helpless sob. The kind of crying that you did when no one was around and it felt like nothing was ever going to be okay again. Michael sat down beside you in the dirt, silent companionship through your tears.

He didn't say anything. But he didn't have to.

[gacha-incels]

this article has been run thru mtl and edited. if there are any discrepancies please lmk and I’ll edit it asap. thanks everyone for your continued help and patience

Segye Ilbo Exclusive: "No Sexual Crime Charge Despite 'Humiliation Request'… The Perpetrator Aspires to Become a Teacher" By Jeong Ji-hye Published on September 8, 2024, 10:14 AM

"They posted my name, resident registration number, and address in a photo, asking, 'Please humiliate her,' and threatened to 'enslave me.' But since they didn’t explicitly ask for sexual harassment, it’s not considered a sexual crime."

A (18), a high school student from Seoul, met with Segye Ilbo on August 30 to discuss her experience of catching a perpetrator who attempted to commit a Deepfake sexual crime against her via Telegram last May. Although she was able to quickly identify the perpetrator and prevent further damage, the emotional aftermath continues to trouble her.

The incident began in mid-May when A received a message from someone claiming to be preparing to join the police force. The message said she was involved in a digital sex crime. At first, A thought it was a spam message, but after hearing from a friend about the rise of Deepfake crimes, she decided to follow up with the informant.

The materials A received were shocking. The captured conversations included her name, phone number, Instagram ID, home address, a photo of her ID, and various other documents like her USB contents, resume, and family relationship certificate. In a group chat, the perpetrator sought someone to "humiliate" A, and upon finding someone, they would move to a private chat to share more detailed information about her.

A, who described herself as generally quiet at school, was terrified to learn that someone held such deep animosity toward her. She suspected the perpetrator was a fellow student but couldn’t pinpoint who it might be. Eventually, the informant advised her to check her Instagram followers, as the perpetrator had just sent her a follow request on her private account.

It turned out to be someone she knew—a male student from her class, B. Shocked, A realized that the seemingly "normal" B was the one behind the crime. She matched his Telegram profile with the perpetrator’s and reported him to the police, who confirmed that they could identify the perpetrator. Within a week of receiving the first message, B was caught.

Because A was able to identify the perpetrator quickly, she avoided being victimized by Deepfake content. The perpetrator hadn’t yet obtained photos beyond her ID photo to create a Deepfake image. A expressed relief, saying, "I post a selfie on my public Instagram account about once a month, and it seems like the perpetrator couldn’t find any images after deciding to commit the crime. If I had posted a photo just a week later, the situation might have been different."

"I wasn't the only one affected. So many others have suffered. It made me realize we need to root this out completely."

A few months later, A learned that what she experienced was part of a much larger issue involving nationwide Deepfake pornography production. She realized this was a continuation of the infamous 2019 Telegram Nth Room sexual exploitation case. A suspected there could be overlap between the perpetrators, and since they hadn’t all been caught, they might continue committing similar crimes.

A decided to come forward for this interview, hoping to raise awareness of the need for appropriate punishment, even for attempted Deepfake production and "humiliation" requests. Although B specifically targeted A and made degrading comments about turning her into a slave, no charges were applied. Even posting her ID and personal information couldn’t be punished under current laws. In the end, B was only charged with theft for stealing her USB, avoiding criminal punishment and facing only juvenile court.

A representative from Nowon Police Station commented, "The case was processed under theft and the Personal Information Protection Act, and we referred the theft charge to the prosecutor's office." However, they explained that since B did not use A’s resident registration number for identity verification, it wasn’t punishable under the Resident Registration Act. The police also noted that since no digital manipulation occurred, they couldn’t classify it as a digital sex crime. There was no clear regulation for the "humiliation" request either.

While four individuals, including the informant, are suspected of discussing A’s "humiliation" with B in private chats, forensic analysis of B’s phone was not conducted. The police explained, "At the time, we determined that there was no one else holding A’s data."

The Nowon Police official further noted, "With the rise of new crimes like Deepfake, there is momentum for new laws to address even attempted crimes. Once laws are in place, we will be able to apply appropriate penalties."

"I'm a senior in high school, and going through this makes it hard to even dream about college life. As for the perpetrator? He wants to become a math teacher."

B, who was sent to juvenile court, faced a forced transfer under the School Violence Countermeasures Committee. Unlike expulsion, which leaves a permanent record, forced transfers are erased after four years. By the time B graduates from university and seeks employment, no trace of the incident will remain. The education office cited that "it was a one-time offense, and he showed signs of remorse," as the reason for the lenient punishment.

A said, "I never received an apology from B, and even though he was supposed to submit a handwritten apology to the school, nothing was delivered." She expressed frustration, believing that B was merely pretending to be remorseful during the committee hearing to avoid harsher consequences.

The aftermath of the incident severely impacted A’s academic performance and mental health. She couldn’t concentrate on her studies due to depression and panic attacks. Though B is no longer at the school, some of his friends remain, leaving A in constant fear of illegal filming or further harm. She is currently on medication and has taken academic leave, virtually giving up on this year’s college entrance exam.

Meanwhile, B is reportedly preparing for university entrance exams at his new school, aiming to become a math teacher. A noted that the fact that her daily life remains disrupted while B's proceeds almost unaffected is what infuriates her the most.

When asked if she had someone to confide in, A said, "Not really. Everyone wants to move on, so I don’t talk about it. I also don’t want to burden my family or friends with my emotions." She added, "It's hard to approach people now, and I fear that expressing my anxiety will make me seem weak. I constantly worry about being targeted again if I upset someone."

Jeong Ji-hye, Reporter wisdom@segye.com

[theknightofivanhoe]

Justice League: Question's Hard Drive Ch 5: Fine Dining and The Team Leader

Table of Contents

(Everyone brace yourselves)

A glass of red in her hand, Helena smiled and relaxed in her chair. The plinking piano tune still accompanied the chatter of other guests who had now resumed eating after that little incident at the balcony. Question, now with his fedora back on, stuck a lump of his zucchini and chorizo onto his fork and lifted it to his face as silently as a tombstone. Clearly he was going to make good on his promise to enjoy the date, so far at least. 

Now that things had been settled between the two vigilantes, the atmosphere around the restaurant was more-or-less back to normal. The fact that Question was actually having his dinner was enough to pacify Helena who dined rather indulgently on her turkey meatballs and puttanesca spaghetti. Her date, however, had his head lowered so that no one could see him eating behind the brim of his fedora. Before they had started, Helena had only seen him take something that strangely looked like a can from his coat pocket before lifting it to his mask. From behind the shade of his hat’s brim, she had heard a hissing sound before Question started tucking in, she hoped. Twisting some of her spaghetti, Helena paused as a sliver of suspicion popped in her mind. As Question took another lump of zucchini, she peered below the table. “No, Helena, I’m not dropping my food under the table to avoid eating it.” his voice told her from under his hat. Raising an eyebrow, she returned her attention to her own meal. “You’d better not.” Deciding that this time Question had got the message for once, she continued eating. What she couldn’t help but notice was just how silent their dinner was, apart from the piano music. Just watching the conspiracy theorist cagily pick at his food without a sound was starting to annoy her. 

After a few more seconds of him silently eating under the cover of his hat, Helena decided it was time to liven things up a little. “So, Q…” she piped up, putting on a smile with which she intended to channel some of that old Bertinelli charm, “How’s the food?” “It’s okay.” came Question’s voice, a morsel of chorizo disappearing behind his fedora’s brim. “Aw, come on…” Helena persuaded, “Anything you like about your dish…in particular? I mean, these…” She glanced down at her plate, pondering what to say next. In a second, Helena got an idea and put on a slightly husky voice. “These…balls…” Her rouged lips slid into a mischievous smirk and she stared at Question, waiting for a reaction. “Excuse me, wha -” “Well,” Helena purred, sticking her fork into a meatball and raising it. “Don’t these balls just look…delicious…?” Question didn’t even raise his head even as he awkwardly cut through some zucchini. “Aren’t they the most divine…scrumptious…” Helena torturously whispered, moving the meat on her fork towards him, “Succulent, moist, juicy balls ever…?” She spotted how Question was unable to bring the zucchini slice to his face. ‘Gotcha.’ she thought, her grin brimming with glee. “Right, my baby doll…? You just gotta give these delectable balls a good licking…” Keeping her dark eyes on him, Helena opened her mouth and her tongue lolled out towards the meatball on the tip of her fork. Her breathing grew slightly heavy, the grunts and inhaling growing quite audible. All this seemed to just paralyse Question. While she gauged him for any outward reaction, Helena edged her mouth nearer and nearer to the meatball in a rather drawn-out, leisurely fashion. Still, Question sat and stared down at his plate, almost as if looking up might be a deathwish. When Helena’s moist tongue made contact with the meat on her fork, she exhaled in sheer rapture at its taste. “Mmm - mmmmm…” she went, swallowing the meat in one go, grunting and breathing out through her munches. Difficult as it was to read Question under his hat, she watched as he snatched up his glass of wine and brought it to his hidden face. “Needing something stiff already?” Helena grinned, not willing to let up. There was a muted gulp, then a cough through the glass before Question smacked it back onto the table, having taken a great deal more than a sip. “And how’s the chorizo and zucchini?” Helena continued seductively, leaning her chin on her palm. “I mean, if I’d ordered it, I’d be sucking on it…” She proceeded to loop some strings of spaghetti around her fork, then lazily slurped them through her red-tinged lips. “And sucking on it…hard…” “So what’s all this clever wordplay in aid of…?” a possibly flustered Question demanded, though Helena felt sure she could detect a somewhat wry tone in his voice. It could be that he wasn’t so resistant to her after all. “So you’re having a great time already, Q?” she asked softly. “Well clearly I’ve got to.” he reminded her, considering she had dangled him out of the balcony a few minutes back. “Well just wait til you see the movie I picked for tonight.” Helena replied excitedly before sipping some red. “And what movie is that?” asked Question, putting his fork into some chorizo. “We’re going to see ‘1000 Bullets.’” Helena smiled in anticipation. Question just lowered his fork after popping in a lump of chorizo.  “So you’ve confiscated my data and delayed the League’s investigation on CADMUS…purely for some mindlessly violent spy movie?” “Yep, and that hard drive will stay on me, til we’ve watched this kickass shoot-em-up, knockout spy movie.” Helena declared smugly with a wag of her fork in his direction. “So it didn’t occur to you that this movie’s director, Azzarello, may be a member of the - ” “Q, remember what we said…” Helena threatened, a frown on her face. “Oh, right.” Question backed off, not quite wanting to get dangled from a great height a second time. “1000 Bullets it is.” “Good answer.” Helena agreed as she resumed her meal. 

After some more eating, Question only raised his head by a centimetre, still keeping his face obscured under his hat. “Helena, about the data…” he asked, “You wouldn’t care to tell me where it is at the moment, would you?” Right when she had popped some spaghetti into her mouth, Helena paused. Her eyes flashed over to Question, before she smirked back. “…Where indeed?” The response came out in a devious tone, only serving to rouse Question’s suspicions further. “Yes…where?” he insisted from behind his hat’s brim. Helena’s smirk just grew even wider. Her crossed legs squeezed tightly against one another from a certain tingling that danced across her skin. She put the hand with which she held her fork over her mouth in an attempt to hold in a giggle. “Oh, you’ll find out…” she assured Question. “Well I’d like to find out now, if you don’t mind.” the detective told her, not in a frame of mind to continue eating until he got a direct answer. “Trust me, Q…” Helena’s voice was all sweet and seductive as she lifted her wine glass to her ruby lips, “After we’ve been to the pictures…” She sipped, keeping her gleaming eyes on Question as her bare thighs rubbed together in pure eagerness. “It’ll be well worth the wait.” Question started to fidget as he tried to get his food onto his fork. “You do know I have plenty of ways to extract information from others…” For some reason, what he just said made Helena shiver and her cheeks heat up. It definitely seemed like Question was playing along. “Oh, you’re welcome to try, baby doll…” she playfully teased, letting go of her glass and reaching down under her end of the table. “First, we’ve gotta get through dessert, next, on to the theatre and then…” She paused as Question waited for what she was going to say next, partly in dread, “We’ll see what ways you can…extract your info off me.” Question just silently heaved in a deep breath and released. This lady was going to be the death of him. 

Meanwhile, somewhere over an ocean of city lights, a black helicopter whirred through the night sky towards a landing pad set on top of an office building. Once it touched down, propellers still rotating, a side door slid open and Floyd Lawton, as Deadshot, stepped out wearing his red bodysuit, silver mesh chest armour and matching boots while his face was shielded by his mask fitted with its orange targeting lens over the right eyehole. Attached to each of his silver gauntlets was a rectangular gun, both his signature weapons. A man in a black suit, tie and tinted shades stood outside the helicopter as Deadshot marched up to him. “Deadshot, aka the guy who never misses, here to see Ms Waller. Unless she’s too swamped in paperwork.” the mercenary stated in that sardonic drawl of his. “Right this way, sir.” the man in shades responded, leading Deadshot down some steps that led into the building.

More men in suits and shades kept guard around low-lit corridors as Deadshot followed the one who was taking him to the mission briefing. The man headed up to a pair of silver double doors that parted to reveal a meeting room. Deadshot noticed a woman standing beside an oval table while other figures sat on either side. “Ah, Floyd, you’re right on time.” commented the tall, rather attractive lady who kept her black hair in a bun with dagger-sharp silver pins and wore dark semi-circular glasses along with winding blades on her earrings. “Roulette. Aren’t you a sight for a marksman’s sore eyes…” Deadshot replied smoothly, striding into the room and taking in the dark crimson dress that showed off her voluptuous right thigh tattooed with a slithering green serpent, one circular gap revealing her considerable cleavage and a wider one for her muscular back, fingerless gloves ending at her upper arms and high-heeled boots. “As far as tough guys’ efforts at flattery go, yours aren’t too shabby.” Roulette teased in her confident yet dangerous manner, her smirk further enhanced by dark lipstick. “Nice. Now name me another tough guy that can strike a beating heart at 300 klicks and I’ll buy you a bottle of your favourite red.” Deadshot challenged in slight jest, tilting his helmeted head at Roulette who casually leaned an elegant hand on the table. “If you’re quite finished trying to date a femme-fatale, we have some data to retrieve.” Shade, the white-skinned man in the top hat told Deadshot in his deep, slightly raspy voice, staring up at him through his dark glasses. He was sitting beside the grey-suited Firefly and Tsukuri the martial artist was at the opposite side with her katana strapped to her back. “Of course. Do take a seat, Mr Lawton. We’re just about to get started with the briefing.” Roulette told the assassin and gestured to the empty chair next to Tsukuri. Deadshot stepped over to the chair then hesitated. “Ma’am, about this mission -” Roulette turned to him just as she was about to call the meeting to order. “The good general mentioned some team leader you’d recommended, am I right?” “That is correct, Floyd…” Roulette told him with her typical air of arrogance. “I have eyes on folks from all corners of the underworld, particularly those who have past experience against the League and their allies. This one, I found in Gotham, before I arranged for Mr Luthor to call him in after learning about his little encounter with one of our targets. Let’s just say we’ve offered him a part in something more…ambitious.” Next she turned to the double doors that swished open as someone else came in.

“Deadshot…” the man remarked in a cool, haughty voice, striding past Roulette. While Shade, Tsukuri and Firefly were clearly expecting their new team leader, Deadshot just stood where he was in shock. He remembered seeing this man once on Gotham City news. “As I live and breathe; the guy who never misses, in the flesh. Really big fan. Love the mask, it’s so Terminator.” the familiar-looking man went on, hands idly resting in the pockets of his black trousers. Deadshot recognised that long, handsomely sinister face with the near-constant smirk and startlingly prominent cheekbones, that shiny, greasy pompadour and brown leather jacket worn over a purple polo shirt. “But what can I say? It’s a pleasure to welcome you to my new team.” As this lanky young man offered a well-manicured hand for him to shake, the mercenary glared back into eyes full of a certain malice and cockiness. 

Under his mask, Deadshot muttered through clenched teeth, “Paris Franz.”  

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

[tulipthealtsblog]

A Night In The Lab (Little Witch Academia Tickle Fic)

(Also available on AO3!)

(Characters: Akko, Constanze

Series: Little Witch Academia

Possible Content Warnings: Tickle Machines, Heavy Restraints, Feet Tickling)

Akko opened her eyes.

"Ah… I forgot Constanze's bed could do that…"

She got up.

Constanze was doing some big project in the lab, and when she did that, she normally slept in the lab too.

Due to that fact, Amanda invited Akko over to spend the night with the Blue Team.

Akko unknowingly activated the contraption that allowed Constanze access to her lab in the first place, and now here she is.

She knew what she had to do.

"CONSTANZE!" Akko called.

Constanze waddled over to where Akko was, chalkboard in hand.

She wrote a message:

"Why are you down here."

"Well, it was an accident, I swear!"

"Would you like me to activate the exit?"

Akko thought.

"Actually, I think I'd like to watch you work for a while! I think it'd be nice."

"Whatever you say."

"Prepare to be bored out of your mind."

"Oh, it can't be that bad."

She walked around, looking at all the interesting gadgets.

She found a big, metal chair.

"Look at this one! Bet it's comfortable."

Constanze began to panic.

She knew exactly what it was.

She made a hand motion to "get up", because there wouldn't be enough time to write on the chalkboard.

"You want me to get up? Why?"

She found out soon after.

Cuffs extended out of the chair to lock her arms, legs, and waist in place.

"Uh… what is this?"

A mechanical hand rose from the side of the machine.

It reached to roll up Akko's shirt. She froze.

The chair was a cleverly designed tickle machine. It does a scan of it's victims body, to figure out their most sensitive spots, and if they're exposed or not.

It starts with their least sensitive, which for Akko, was her poor, poor stomach.

It started by digging a finger into her naval. The feeling was more uncomfortable than tickly.

It caused Akko to squirm in what body parts she still had control of.

Sensing the uncomfortable feeling, the hand pulled out.

It started dragging a finger across her belly, and that's when the torment started.

Akko giggled slightly.

"Hehehey, this tickles…"

A second hand appeared, and it started its torment.

Tickling right in the bottom left corner of her belly, while the other hand skittered around.

"Cohohonstanze… how long am I going to… behehe… in here?"

She grabbed her chalkboard.

"It automatically shuts off after 3 hours. I'll try to get you out earlier."

"Three hours?"

While this conversation was going on, the hands were slowly moving up, through her ribs, to her armpits.

A few teasing pokes were made at them, until the hands went on attack.

Akko squeaked. She was ever so slightly more ticklish there than on the belly.

This continued for a few minutes, until the hands disappeared.

While this was happening Constanze was fiddling around with a button, trying to turn the thing off.

After the hands disappeared, she thought she had succeeded.

Until she saw some brushes appear from the bottom.

Constanze rushed to behind the chair, where the wires were located. She grabbed a pair of scissors.

Meanwhile, the brush landed on the sole of Akko's foot.

She jumped when she felt this. And the sensation was more intense when it started spinning.

Akko was sent into a laughing fit. Her feet were her most sensitive spot.

Brushes appeared, attacking more spots on her feet.

Once they got to the sensitive skin underneath the toes, it was over.

Akko was launched into hysterics.

"COHOHONSTANZE, AHAHARE YOU GOHONA SHUT THIS THIHING OFF??"

The hands appeared, 4 of them this time, and resumed their patrol on her belly and armpits, sending Akko's laughter up an octave.

Constanze, meanwhile, was sorting g through wires, until she found the emergency cut-off one.

She snapped it, and the machine stopped all at once.

Akko just about flew out of there.

She was panting.

"Constanze, thank you…"

"No problem.

Just, don't mess with my inventions again."

"Also, I never knew you were so ticklish."

Akko was flustered.

"Well, you know, it's a natural thing, right?"

"Anyway, how long was I in that thing for?"

"15 minutes."

"Out of three hours? There's no way I could've survived."

Constanze led Akko to the exit, and activated it.

She headed back to repair the tickle machine, which didn't take long.

After repairing it, she felt like resting.

So she unknowingly sat on the chair.

She didn't realize until it was too late.

This was gonna be a long night…

[bookdragonideas]

Prepare for insane rant.

Okay so YouTube is dying a slow death but until an alternate becomes freely available it's also one of the few places on the internet that everyone is on.

Even if your main socials are tiktok or Instagram the simple fact is that you are on YouTube. Part of this is the monopoly. Every device comes with YouTube predownloaded so it's easy access and basic reaction to use it.

But the simple fact is that for all its many flaws YouTube is easy to use, has a good user interface, and remains a reliable way of using the Internet to create and promote content.

But Microsoft is dying. Google is dying. Ai is everywhere. And the monopoly is starting to crack wide open.

I am putting this out there now only because I lack the actual skills. But whoever makes the next YouTube will rule the world for the next 3 years. After that we will inevitably see the progression of the Internet, which, if my predictions are correct, will culminate in 'hubs' online spaces where you can see things from multiple websites and mediums all in one place. Basically you'll be able to subscribe to someone's main channel and message your friend privately, all from the same platform. Not just the same device, the same platform. Medium if you will.

When this happens we will have multiple YouTube equivalents, but the main two will still be the original YouTube itself and the stand in replacement which is no doubt coming in the next few months and which will control the Internet for the next few years.

And I know some people think it'll be tiktok or whatever but I personally doubt that. Long form videos are actually making a slow but steady comeback and the short video model is simply an unsustainable house of cards that WILL catch fire eventually. The only way for tiktok to become the new YouTube is if they focus on longform videos and make the interface more user controlled.

Rant over, please resume normal human thoughts.

[voxtek-time]

Open Starter!

VoxTek Broadcasting is currently experiencing technical difficulties. Do not turn off your viewing device - Regular programming will resume shortly.

That's the message that's currently filling screens across hell instead of around half of the channels that should be playing. It's the message that's sent every section of the tower that Vox is directly in charge of into something of a frenzy because, for once, the issues aren't caused by an Overlord tantrum. No, it's a signal issue, in part, and in another part, a content problem. He's already set the majority of his workers to the task of getting reruns back playing, to keep ratings somewhat normal, but he knows they can't fall back on that for long. People's attention spans are growing ever shorter, and after losing viewers for even an hour, he needs to pull them back in with something good.

"Alright. I need show ideas and I need them yesterday. Sitcoms, dramas, shitty documentaries, anything you think of, give it to me."

[vigilant-guardian]

Data Upload: Memory Systems

Communication Log

The morning of the time machine's shutdown

Vigilant (Iron Valiant #3) to/from AI Turo

V: I have completed my rounds in the lower cliffs, Professor. There was nothing abnormal to report. Small conflicts between Paradox Pokemon and natural residents have continued. I have noticed a decrease in the number of occurrences of these conflicts, Professor. If there are no additional orders you wish to give, then I will continue my rounds as normal, Professor.

AI: Thank you for the report, Vigilant (Iron Valiant #3). I actually have a request for you to examine the deep tunnels today. I need a full and comprehensive report of their layout, structure, stability, and ecological contents. You may resume your usual guard rounds when the report is finished.

V: Of course, Professor. I will begin my survey as soon as I reach the stated area. I will travel to the designated area immediately. I will have the report finished within the typical parameters you set for me.

…I request information regarding your reasoning for this report, Professor.

AI: You do not need that information to conduct the survey.

V: Of course, Professor. I will conduct the survey at once, Professor.

Communication Log

Hours after previous message

Vigilant (Iron Valiant #3) to/from AI Turo

AI: …You Must Defeat Me

V: This is abnormal behavior, Professor. I request a status report, Professor.

AI: [ MESSAGING ERROR.]

V: …I will continue my observations until you state otherwise, Professor.

…

AI: [UNKNOWN ERROR. ACTIVATING PARADISE PROTECTION PROTOCOL.]

V: Noted. All threats to Paradise will be eliminated. Where shall I begin my search for threats? Paradise will be protected.

AI: [MESSAGING ERROR. UNKNOWN ERROR.]

V: I await your orders. All threats to Paradise will be eliminated. Where shall I begin my search for threats?

AI: [SENDING EMERGENCY DISTRESS SIGNAL. IMMEDIATE AID IS REQUESTED.]

V: Understood. I will arrive as soon as possible. All threats to Paradise will be eliminated. I request a status report.

AI: …

V: I will arrive as soon as possible. All threats to Paradise will be eliminated. I request a status report.

AI: …

V: I request a status report.

AI: …

V: Status Report, Professor?

V: Professor?

AI: [ALL SIGNAL LOST]

V: I will arrive as soon as possible. I will arrive as soon as possible. I will protect Paradise, Professor.

[MESSAGE ERROR: NO RECEIVING POINT]

All threats to Paradise will be eliminated, Professor. I am Vigilant the Valiant, Paradise Guardian. Paradise will be protected, Professor. I will protect Paradise, Professor.

[MESSAGE ERROR: NO RECEIVING POINT]

Professor.

Professor.

Professor.

[MESSAGE ERROR: NO RECEIVING POINT]

I am Vigilant the Valiant, Paradise Guardian. Paradise will be protected, Professor. I will protect Paradise, Profes-

[Communication Line Terminated]

[john-carle123]

Have you ever thought that a machine can provide answers in seconds which most humans can’t do in a minute? If a decade ago you imagined this, no one would have believed you, but today you can see it coming into reality through Artificial Intelligence (AI).

The technology that we come across today is advanced and high-tech eco technology. All credit goes to Artificial Intelligence (AI) chatbot that took it to new altitudes. AI chatbots have emerged as a game-changer by revolutionizing businesses in the digital age.

This blog will give you a brief about how AI chatbots for business can bring revolution to a greater extent and the reasons why you should choose AI chatbots to gain success in your business.

Before beginning with the blog let’s take a quick look at what AI chatbots are, how they truly work, and which are the best AI chatbots available in the market.

The Rise of AI Chatbot

AI chatbots are computer programs trained to have human-like conversations using Human Intelligence, Artificial Intelligence Technology, and Natural Language Processing (NLP) to provide solutions by automating responses to asked queries.

With the trend, AI chatbots drastically got popular for creating an interactive and friendly experience among customers. With the help of machine learning (ML) and NLP, AI chatbots can learn from their interactions with customers, becoming smarter and more clever over time as they gather more data.

AI chatbots are gaining popularity across various industries like finance, retail, healthcare, and many more. Through chat, text messages, and voice bots chatbots can be retained. This AI Technology has brought extraordinary convenience and efficiency to customer service, data processing, and human experience by helping businesses auto-generating custom conversational interfaces for customers.

The 10 Leading AI Chatbot Apps

1. Chat GPT

Chat GPT is one of the leading and best AI chatbots available on the internet. Introduced by OpenAI, it is a text-based AI chatbot that answers complex questions instantly. It has revolutionized the AI industry with its remarkable ability to interact with users, providing convincing and accurate responses that can surprise humans. It is convenient and easy to use.

2. Google Bard

After Chat GPT, Google Bard is the best AI chatbot designed by Google. It is a conversational AI chatbot that generates all kinds of text and image responses directly if users ask for them. It can export text in multiple file formats, accepts voice commands from users, and writes professional documents that include resumes, cover letters, professional summaries, etc.

3. Jasper AI

Jasper AI is an AI bot that helps to create content easily, the user needs to provide some basic inputs and Jasper AI will generate original and accurate content for them. It is a great option for businesses to generate content at exclusive prices and also saves time. Jasper AI offers a 7-day free trial and after that, a creator plan starting at $39/month.

4. Chatsonic

It is a revolutionary AI like Chat GPT that generates visuals, voice commands, and text to personalize customer interactions. Its powerful connection with Google search helps to come up with high-quality content. Its free trial plan provides 2,500 words without any cost. It is available for $12/month up to $1749/month on the number of words needed.

5. YouChat

Similar to Chat GPT, YouChat built by You.com works like a normal chat where you can ask a complete question the same way you ask a person. The answer is provided in the chat itself with a short and detailed answer summarized from various documents and websites. Its major benefit is that it cites sources from Google specifying where it pulled its information from.

6. Replika

It is a chatbot that has a name and an avatar that’s designed by the user itself. It is like your replica impersonating your personality. This chatbot design can track your mood and offer personalized conversation and emotional support. Replika can be a friend or your romantic partner. Replika is both free and subscription-based which unlocks multiple modes, games, and customization.

7. Perplexity

Perplexity is similar to other AI chatbots, launched by veteran developers. It not only features Q&A but also provide links to citation and related topics. Perplexity has its dedicated mobile app which requires no sign up and offers free unlimited access. It provides prompt suggestions to start the conversation and provides related topic questions to click on to continue the conversation.

8. Socratic

It is introduced by Google with numerous functions and features like fun graphics, and worksheet scanning to get specific curated answers. Socratic is more children-friendly as it provides solutions with fun graphics to help them understand the concept easily and also help with their homework. It is available for free on Play Store and App Store.

9. The New Bing

This app was introduced by Microsoft and works like a search engine with information on current events. Recently Bing’s chatbot moved from a limited preview to an open preview, which means it is freely accessible to everyone and easy to use, making it convenient for users.

10. Wysa

Wysa is a wellness chatbot that helps users deal with anxiety, stress, and depression. It is not any replacement for a professional doctor but it helps people with clinically proven self-help techniques. Users can write their views and the bot responds according to that input. Wysa is both free and subscription-based and it is adaptable in presenting solutions to users.

10 Reasons Why You Should Choose AI Chatbot for Your Business

1. Quick Solutions

The AI chatbots respond faster than many humans and provide immediate answers to asked questions, reducing the need for customers to wait on hold or for an email response. Chatbots are quick in generating responses.

2. Bots Offer Personalized Experience

AI chatbots provide unique answers every time a user asks, which generates a better touch of personalization for users. Based on the user’s previous interactions, AI chatbots provide customized recommendations or advice according to the user’s history.

3. Improve Customer Engagement

The chatbot solutions are accurate and convincing therefore, users re-visit the application directing to customer engagement. Even chatbots can analyze the data from themselves and provide necessary suggestions and offers to improve engagement.

4. Chatbots Can Increase Sales

Chatbots are one of the reasons for the increase in sales of businesses, as they provide multiple functions in one place like personalized recommendations, full-time availability, one-on-one customer interactions, and customer satisfaction.

5. Easy to Collect Feedback

Generally, chatbots help to ask for feedback from users at the end of their conversation. After that, it is easy to resolve the issues and work on the errors and defects to work on. To encourage feedback, customers can leave a rating or written response and in exchange get discount codes or special offers.

6. Multilingual Support

Multilingual chatbots are also called polyglot bots, which provide multiple language support to engage users all over the globe. Customers attract to those chatbots that address them in their preferred language based on their browser language or region.

7. Continuous Customer Service

Customer service is a sometimes-frustrating profession that can lead to agents losing their patience but bots don’t get frustrated or slow after working continuously. Chatbots are programmed in such a manner that they don’t require leave like humans.

8. Online Management

Chatbots work online on multiple channels- phone, messages, email, and social media platforms like WhatsApp, Facebook, and Instagram to connect with multiple brands and millions of users digitally. As users prefer to go digital these days, numerous apps integrate AI chatbots for generating users’ interest.

9. Increase Website Traffic

Potential customers and most of the GenZ are very active on social media platforms like Instagram, Facebook Messenger, WhatsApp, Pinterest, etc. Chatbots can easily integrate with these apps and websites and can easily contribute to reaching a wider audience.

10. Helps to Generate Leads

Chatbots once collect the user information, can sync this information and generate leads in the future according to the user’s previous searches and preferences. So chatbots generate leads by assisting clients in making rapid decisions.

[atozphantomsquadron]

Epilogue

            I was in tears by the time I finished the last of the journals. In my time in hiding, I’d tried to avoid any news coming from the New Empire, so seeing from one of my best friends in the supernatural community that it was going away was a great and welcome surprise. That and the two marriages in the end, these were making me emotional. Maybe my wife and daughter would be released soon!

            I removed the special reading glasses, and time resumed its normal passage. The books returned to a scribble of runic gibberish, unintelligible to any except the people they were intended to be read by. I took a deep breath, and it felt extremely good. I guess I had been holding my breath since I had read Alanna’s battle with Mamuna, and simply forgotten about it, caught up in the story as I was.

            I returned the last journal to the box, accidentally knocking over the newspaper, the one I’d propped up which announced a prisoner amnesty. When I did, I spotted the last of the contents of the package, a small, folded-over note. I reached into the box and withdrew the card. Thankfully, I didn’t have to put the glasses back on to read it, but what surprised me about it was that it only had one line, written in a feminine hand.

Look outside your window! -AWB

            I puzzled over this message for a while, particularly who did I know that had the initials AWB? My eyes widened when the realization hit me: AWB was Alanna. Alanna White Bear. I threw the note aside and ran to my window, opening it with shaking hands and sticking my head outside.

            On the sidewalk, three stories down, stood a very happy party, smiling up at me. A tall blond woman, cuddling arm-in-arm with her escort, an even taller heavily muscled man, stood behind the two people I had been waiting to see for years.

            My wife and daughter.

            I bolted out of my apartment, down the stairs, and out the door, clutching my family tightly to me once again. This close to the party, I finally realized that the blond woman was Alanna, which would make her escort the man she had married, William White Bear. These thoughts were buried by my happiness at being reunited with my family.

            That was four years ago.

            As I write these words this evening, I’m awaiting my cue to take the stage at a victory rally in Wyoming, at the Hidden-In-Plain-Sight Ranch. I can hear the crowd outside, clamoring for the guest of honor, who I’m supposed to introduce.

            Change came quickly once the New Empire regime was taken down. Presidential elections were just re-established this year, after allowing the former House Speaker to serve out a full term. Over the course of two years, a constitutional amendment overturning the Regents’ power grab was unanimously ratified by the remaining states, and olive branches were extended to the independent republics of Alaska and Texas to coax them to rejoin the Union. A concerted effort was made by the re-established in their power Congress to effect changes across the board to all social and military programs. The SSA was disbanded, returned to its original military and law enforcement purposes. An additional division was made out of the former blueshirts, which was tasked with beginning cleanup and recovery duties in the Missouri Rad Zone, with the goal of making the state habitable for human/supernatural residents once more.

            Which leads us to tonight. This year has been the most good-natured Presidential election cycle in recent memory, since it’s been so long since there’s actually been an election. It culminates in this celebration tonight.

            A knock comes on my door. When I answer it, standing there is Alanna White Bear, holding her one-year-old son Julian. “It’s time.”

            I smile back at my friend, whose journals I had the privilege of transcribing. “How’s married life treating you?”

            “Pretty well. I’m about to finish college this year, so is William, and everyone at the Ranch has been so helpful with the baby.”

            “I can imagine, he’s quite the cutie.” I pinch the tot’s cheek. He grins and giggles, shrinking back toward his mommy, but still showing signs of his supernatural nature, a pair of vestigial wings that I’ve been told on several occasions, by both Alanna and William, will never work. “I remember you when you were not much older than Julian here, you did many of the same things as I recall.”

            She nods, wistfully. “Those were the days, huh?”

            “They were.” I clear my throat, collecting my notes. “Okay, I’m ready.”

            Alanna leads me out the door, to a stage set up just outside the foyer of the Ranch house. It’s coated entirely in crepe paper and patriotic bunting. I spot my wife and daughter, sitting to one side, and they wave to me. I wave back, then make my way on the stage, adjusting the microphone slightly so that it comes to my mouth.

            “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming here tonight. We’re here for a most auspicious occasion. Let me tell you, I’ve known the people you’ve come to see for a while, through their actions and their friends. I can think of no one else better suited for this honor which is about to be bestowed. So without further ado, please allow me to introduce to you a combat veteran, a dedicated parent, an honorable individual who showed the nation what their true colors were. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the President-Elect of the United States, Kitty Salem!”

            I turn and applaud, and from behind me approaches the entire extended Salem family. Kitty is the first to walk out, waving enthusiastically to the crowd, limping slightly from the injury she incurred at the final battle. Cyrus accompanies her, not bothering with a HoSIP to make himself look taller; he’s apparently embraced his shortness finally, after so long. Behind them enter royalty, King Fahaian and the tiger-like Queen Michika, looking just as overjoyed as Michika’s parents, leading their toddler daughter Princess Akiko for a while before the queen finally picks her up.

            Kitty comes over to the podium and embraces me. “Layin’ it on a little thick, aren’t you?” she whispers.

            “You deserve the praise,” I respond. “Now get out there and talk to your people!”

            I release the embrace and cross the stage, back to where my own family sits in waiting. My wife turns and whispers to me. “Did you ever think that one interview so long ago would lead to this?”

            I smile back at her, as confetti starts to fall. “It was a really wild ride.”

            She takes my right hand, as my daughter takes my left, and we watch Kitty give her victory speech. Hope rises in my soul, hope for humanity and for the world. If a nation that so shunned supernaturals just barely four years ago can embrace one as their President, there’s truly hope for us as beings of mercy and love. Alanna’s story shows what power love and loyalty hold, even in today’s modern society.

[desoletongue]

So I've been having a little bit of a time lately. This one may end up a little long and a little sad, but it's all okay.

I left my job of 5 years, it was eating me to pieces and I just couldn't give my time to those people any more. It was a good choice. That it happened to coincide with my therapist closing her practice was unexpected, but I felt like I would be okay after about two days of moping in a woe is me style.

It has been okay. There have been hiccups. Some days it's really hard not to be a depressed burrito. I make a lot of "gainfully unemployed" jokes while I try to get my brain to remember that we can art and write to our hearts content and if we get tired we can just nap about it. I am lucky to have a cushion and the time to do this.

I'm adjusting to sharing space with humans again. Remembering they aren't just humans and are actually my friends helps most of the time. I wish we communicated more viably about house stuff but hopefully we improve on that. I'm just hoping I'm not the only one that thinks improvement is needed in that area.

The anxieties are gripping me tight and shaking me around every few days. Last week I couldn't sleep for two (thankfully) separate nights because I was just very convinced I would die. Not very helpful, but I played some video games and listened to chill music and tried to be kind to myself.

I'm getting back into the habit of regularly cleaning. I'm trying not to make a big schedule because I get overwhelmed easily when I see lists of things to do anymore, but I do try to grab one or two things from the "to do" jumble a day. Sometimes it's just some laundry, but I unpacked like 9 more boxes the other night. I was in bed the next day, but it was big progress and I can afford a day in bed right now.

I've been writing. I posted three fanfics in a series I've been saying I'm working on for almost a year at this point. I'm really proud and trepidatious about it. I've posted stuff before, it's not that it's a new experience, it just feels like something that I've started a growing piece for others to see. I've also been writing and developing stuff for my book.

I haven't been listening to music much, which may tie in with some of the depression. I should have a music outlet, that's been a constant for years. I just forget and the novelty of actual silence is one that I've appreciated since when I started to really feel my burn out.

Next week I should probably really start job hunting, for all that I hate it. Need to redo my resume maybe completely. Also might apply for weird slightly out of the wheelhouse stuff because to be honest? I really hate scheduling. I keep getting notifications that the schools around here are hiring secretaries and admin assistants and while I Absolutely do not want to work at a school in the year of our lord 2023 in Okla-fucking-homa, I could do admin work elsewhere. And maybe, if things work out ... I could go to school? I haven't done that but I want to. Anything but banking or workforce.

School was a thing that I've waffled on for nearly 10 years because fear of debt but at this point... We're all gonna die in debt unless we burn this whole candle down (won't bank on that), so why the fuck not. I'm a smart boy, I could learn a thing.

I did start a fansly. It's mostly friend traffic at the moment, which is really sweet and mildly comical, but only because I never know whether they're following me because they love and support me or because I'm hot. Could be both, but I'm not sure of any of it much less the all of it. (Oh geez, did they get there and not expect boobs because I'm normally bound down??)

I've been a little isolated, but I forget to socialize sometimes because it's kinda nice being able to just hang out and read and cuddle the cats? And then I realize it's been a week since I've messaged my best friend and I feel too guilty about that to message him now, except then I find a meme they really need to see and auto send it and suddenly we're talking again. We've done that a couple of times. I miss him.

So overall, a bumpy leg of our journey, but we're still trucking along.

And I have blue/purple hair again. That's pretty fuckin rad.

[misspearly1]

Day Ten: Creampie - Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels

Kinktober22 List

WC: 2.5K Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Jealousy from reader & Jack finding it hot. Soft Dom!Jack. Smut. Unprotected PIV. Creampie. Fluff. AN: Ok, for the longest time I was worried that writing for Jack would make me want more, and it has. I was correct to think that haha. I really enjoyed writing for think sexy southern man (it's the accents, it has to be lmao) and I can see myself writing more for him in future. Hope ya'll enjoy, my loves &lt;3

-

Working as the assistant of a very important figure in the New York Statesman building isn’t all as glitz and glam as it sounds. 

You were chosen - amongst so many other, more suitable, candidates - to be Jack Daniels assistant. Apparently something about you in particular was so special that he just had to have you be his personal run-around; answering his calls, taking messages or patching them through, collecting his mail, organising his weekly schedule, grabbing his lunch or his coffee every hour of the damn day. 

Whatever it be that makes you excel in your job role more than others, all you really saw yourself as was Agent Whiskey's errand girl. That was until one day four months ago when the man showed what you really mean to him - which was more than you assumed at first. Jack saw you the very first day you arrived for your interview. You stood out from the crowd like a sore thumb, sitting amongst men and women who looked like they were fresh out of the modelling industry, while you looked a little nerdy. 

You wouldn’t say that you look nerdy, but just comparing your style to theirs, you were seriously lacking the sexy look, and during your interview - which wasn’t even hosted by Jack - they took one look over your resume and gave you the job on the spot. No questions asked, just stated the monthly salary, and it’s a lot, gave you a time and date to start then sent you on your merry little way. 

At the time, it felt like you were making a deal with the devil, as if there was a catch somewhere hidden in the contract, however after showing up to your first day of work and running around all day after Agent Whiskey, doing each and every normal errand that he could ask from an assistant, you quickly started to think you had struck gold instead. 

Then, as more and more time passed working alongside Whiskey and not under him, you grew a bond, a connection to him that felt odd at first but became something beautiful. He’s always been a gentleman, right from the beginning, which you appreciate a whole hell of a lot considering the horror stories you’ve heard from friends about their bosses being disgusting sleazeballs. 

So you therefore suppose that’s where your attraction to Jack began to blossom, just having the bare minimum of respect that you deserve. But it wasn’t just the bare minimum either, it was more. Jack included you wherever he could, asked for your help and opinions, though he kept you out of the physical side of his line of work, you spent a lot of time in his office, helping him crack cases - which wasn’t really a part of your job, but you enjoyed nonetheless. 

Jack gave you days off whenever something came up, drove you home or picked you up whenever you had car trouble, offered you to join him during lunch, or asked to join you, continuously praised your work efforts and still does, brought you along to work meetings, big social events or fancy dinners with the cities officials. You didn’t just get a job in the New York's Statesman tower, you joined the Statesman - joined the family. 

And for one whole week, when a woman arrived at the office, you felt like you were just Jack's run-around because of jealousy. You instantly became aware of your attraction for your boss during that week because you were jealous of the woman who was stealing his attention from you. Her presence made your work boring and what it should be in the first place, because Jack was too busy with her, instead of you. 

Unfortunately, the jealousy bubbled up the surface and your thoughts spiralled, tricking yourself into believing you were just Jack's little errand girl all along, that he was just sweet talking you enough to not see that you were his slave that does everything he asks - but that wasn’t true, none of it was. That woman that was ‘stealing’ all of his attention was named Ginger Ale. 

She flew in from another branch in a different state, bringing with her, a new shipment of upgraded tech and the reason she stayed for the whole week is because she has family here. And besides, Jack and Ginger Ale have worked with each other many times in the past, however he hadn’t worked with her since you joined, therefore you didn’t know about her. 

But it’s besides the point, your jealousy blinded you from seeing reality, blinded you from seeing the way Jack tried to include you on numerous occasions but you ignored them all through your stubbornness. You fucked up royally and even contemplated looking for a new job, over thinking the whole situation once again as you though Jack would hate you for your sudden change of attitude. 

However, you once again, could never have been more wrong. After thinking calmly and not with your insecurities, you took the right approach and talked to Jack, apologizing for your actions, explaining where they come from and why, then told him that however he likes to deal with it, you would understand. 

Jack dealt with it by bending you over his desk and fucking some sense into you all night long until sunrise. Then, like the gentleman he always was, he bought you a clean set of clothes and breakfast, then shared a long three hour chat detailing how he has always had a crush on you, that he understood why you reacted the way you did and he is absolutely not mad about it either. In fact, he even went as far as sharing that it was hot and turned him on like crazy. 

Though you blushed red like a tomato for a good chunk of that morning, feeling embarrassed for getting jealous in the first place, the man went above and beyond to banish you shame forever. He asked you there and then if you’d like to skip past all of the fuss around dating and just be his lady. And at that point, after spending half a year working alongside him, you pretty much already were his lady, therefore your answer was an immediate yes. 

This conversation with Jack took place four months ago now, and you’ve never felt more emotionally secure. Still working alongside him, more like his partner rather than his assistant, you’re a team now. And at the end every working day, he calls you into his office for your ‘reward’ for all of your hard work before heading home together. 

Even right now, as the clock nears the end of your shift, you can feel his gaze on you from his office. Though you don’t look up at him, you can just see in the corner of your eyes how he’s waiting to call you into his office. Your legs squeeze together at the thought, lips roll together to hide your blushing smile and your sex pulses with anticipation for your reward. 

“Babygirl.” Jack calls and your whole body shivers. His voice was dark and sickly sweet, making you yearn to hear him whisper all the loving phrases you adore directly into your ear. Turning your head to meet his wanton gaze, you smile upon seeing him leaning against his desk, legs spread slightly with one hand held over his thigh. “Yes?” You answer, pretending like you don’t already know what he wants. 

The man simply smirks in return. Although there was a softness to his expression, make no mistake, the feral look in his eyes speaks to you. Lifting his hand and beckoning you with a finger, you nod to him and pile up your paperwork on the desk before wheeling your chair backwards. 

Fixing your skirt as you walk towards him, you prepared ahead of time today and didn’t bother wearing any panties. Just to receive your reward easier. Now standing before him and between his legs, Jack reaches out and pulls you in by your hips, asking. “Busy day today, huh sugar?” 

“Yes. It was indeed.” You sigh breathily. Resting both your hands to his chest, you toy with his suspenders, skimming your fingers up and down the fine black leather. Smirking upon remembering how he used them last week to spank your ass, it caught Jack's attention and he asked what you’re thinking about. “Oh, just about how much you love me.” You shrug, happily. 

Upon feeling his warmth sighing breath bellow across your face, you lift your head and gaze into his deep brown eyes. The corner of his bearded lip turns upwards with a smile, looking down at you through half lidded eyes, Jack nods once. “I love you a lot.” He whispers, then shoots you a wink as you continue to play with the suspenders. He, too, was thinking about how he used them last week right here in this very office. “Ready for your reward, sugar?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you try to hold onto some dignity, but your giddy smile betrays you. Jack chuckles softly, then lifts his hand to hold your chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently pulling you in to close the gap. Full, natural pouty lips sealing over your with a light peck at first, you tilt your head to the side and part your lips, inviting him to deepen it, which he does. 

“Oh, babygirl.” He sighs into your mouth before slipping his tongue inside, swirling it around with your own. You whine from the sensation and your eyes close instantly, relishing the way he kisses you so passionately. Dragging your hands up his cotton shirt, your fingers slip underneath his jacket as you caress his shoulders with a massaging squeeze, the action drawing out a groan from him. Music to your ears. 

Dropping his hands to your ass, Jack begins bunching up the fabric of your skirt and grunts with surprise when he feels your bare sex against the pad of his fingers. You feel him smiling against your lips, delighted that you wore no panties today. After grabbing a satisfying amount of handfuls of your ass, he breaks for the kiss and looks down to his belt buckle with one raised brow. 

“Hm, allow me.” Humming, you take his silent request and lower your hands to untie his belt as he continues to grope your ass, his fingers slipping between your legs and touching your most sensitive area. It was distracting, causing your actions to be halted for a moment as he rubbed your clit. You sigh frustratedly, bucking against his hand while trying to open his pants. 

“So needy.” Jack teases in a whisper, smiling from the pleasurable distractions he was inflicting. After unlocking the flask shaped buckle, the Statesmen’s logo imprinted on the metal, you then move onto the zip of his jeans and pull it down, watching as his bulge pushes through the opening. “I am indeed.” You retort playfully, then palm his cock over the fabric of his boxers, your chest swelling with pride upon hearing his choked grunt. 

A few moments later, it became apparent that Jack was now the one feeling so needy as he swiftly turned you around, the action making you gasp out a giggle, excited for what’s to come. He pulls you into his lap, then lines himself up at your entrance and pushes only the tip inside. “Sit on it, sugar.” He asks, not so patiently. 

Leaning your head back to his shoulder, you lift your arm and wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss before sinking down on his cock ever so slowly. The stretch was intense, always, but you adjust very quickly and rotate your hips. “Jack…” You gasp into his mouth from the fullness of him buried deep inside of you. “I know, darlin’.” Is all he says in return, almost with a smug tone, as if he knew how good it feels for you. 

Moving his lips in sync with yours, Jack holds onto your hips like they were his own personal love handles, his fingers carefully digging into the flesh to move you back and forth off his cock. “Holy fuck.” You whine, breathing heavy ragged breaths into his mouth from his movements. 

Already clenching around him, your tightness draws out another choked grunt from his throat. Jack can be very vocal when he wants to be, but sometimes he holds back and just simply focuses on all of the pretty noises you make for him. “I w-want…” You stutter, tilting your face away from him to look down at your body. 

“Use your words, baby. Go on, tell me.” Jack whispers. Burying his chin into your neck, he, too, looks down at your body and feels you fighting against his grip on your sides. You take over. Squeezing your thighs together, you take control from him and start thrusting back and forth. “Oh, there you go, darlin’.” Jack praises directly into your ear, gritting his teeth from your quick, hurried movements. “There you fucking go, Y/N. Don’t stop.” He growls. 

Crying that you're close to him, Jack drags his hand down your stomach and slips his finger between your folds, locating your clit quickly. Your hand lands atop of his, holding him tightly as you toss your head back, mewling from the added stimulation. When he feels your legs shaking against his, he holds his free arm across your breasts, pinning you close to him as he bucks forward. “Jack!” You sob with the stars erupting behind your eyes. 

“Let it all out, sugar.” He groans into your neck, grinding into you with his own climax reaching its peak. Jack keeps his cock buried to the hilt, painting your pulsing velvety walls with ropes of his creamy white seed. “Fuck! That’s it.” Grunting with each last few rolls of his hips, he spills every last drop and places his lips to your ear, whispering shakily. “That’s it, Y/N. Take it all, baby.” 

Whimpering and writhing against him, he was still rubbing nameless shapes on your clit, overstimulating you and prolonging your high. It felt too good and quickly became too much. “H-honey.” You manage to blurt, shaking your head as you pull his hand away from your cunt. Resting now, you sit in his lap and steady your breathing. 

Jack wraps his arms around your front, kissing your neck softly to bring you back down from your high. “Did so well, sugar.” He praises, smiling against the skin between your neck and jawline "gotta keep it inside though, otherwise I'll have to full you up again."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, hon." You laugh softly, then let out the weakest whimper as you lift your hips, feeling his warmth escaping you. "Oops."

Tilting your face again to meet his gaze, you shudder under his smirking smile, giggle lightly at the sight of his dark, dreamy eyes, filled with fire and lust. "Oh, I see. You want more." He says while ever so carefully grinding his hips, making an absolute mess of your cunt as his cum oozes out of your entrances. "I'll give you more, sugar but first, what do you say, hm?" He groans a question.

 “Thank you -" You release a heavy sigh, a sound mixed with amusement and exhaustion that satisfies Jack. "- thank you for my reward, baby."

-

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[mochikeiji]

Unzip

Request: "For your event can I have my bby, Inumaki Toge (sorry for being so predictable) and prompts 50 and 6 🥺👉👈"

50. "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you"

6. "No, don't cover your smile"

↠ Pairing: Inumaki Toge x F!Reader

↠ Warning: mini make out session in the end, mostly fluffy soft times, italicized fonts are Inumaki's lines through texts

↬ Word Count: 1.3k

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

As much as you find the certain white haired but quiet ball of sunshine, there was one thing that sometimes bothered you. It wasn't major— Inumaki was alright as he is now. If not, perfect you would say. The only thing you don't comprehend is that he kept wearing that long sleeved, collar that reached his mouth. Even you find your annoying teacher was wearing the same thing as your boyfriend after yelling hysterically how he's found his long lost twin while poor Inumaki was dragged out of the blue.

You get it's for hiding the tattoos on the corners of his lips. Maybe there was more to it, but Inumaki wrote it on a paper; a way of communicating, that it wasn't at all that sacred or anything to hide. He just grew fond of hiding his mouth for a long period of time. Though he admits it does kind of make him insecure of the times people saw him in person while walking down the streets with a normal attire. All you could ever have in order to read his emotions were his eyes. There were moments you'd catch a peek of his full features during missions. But it hasn't even reached a minute or so he's already hidden himself like a turtle.

Staring longer at him while laying down on bed bored, it dawned to you how you've never caught on what he'd look like if he smiles underneath that suit he wore. This made you tempted to zip down the little zipper in display, but you know better than to pry in his comfort zone. But oh, can you imagine, just a cute kitten like smile. Or even a pout when he's clinging onto your waist during mornings for more over time cuddles. You needed to see that.

"Hey, Toge."

Fingers tugging down the hem of his suit, Inumaki's attention drifts off of his phone from what Yuta was sending and peered at you, "Shake?" he starts, fiddling with your fingers with his. He does this a lot even in public, so intrigued at how much it has an affect to make his insides all giddy and warm from the playful gesture.

"Can I please see you?"

He snorts a little as he types something on his phone. Lucky you, yours happened to be right next to you. The screen lightening, pinging a notification coming from him,

You already are, you dummy.

Inumaki chuckles a bit when he earned himself a pout and a huff from you. Pinching your cheeks gently in a way of saying sorry and waits for you to explain, "I mean, I want to see you. You know," widening your palm a bit, facing it near your own mouth and began waving up and down at him. "Without the thingy in the way."

He messages again,

Thingy? Really? Aren't you cute.

Sitting up from your position, you waddled closer to his body. Inumaki shifts himself to sit comfortably at the edge of the bed for you to settle yourself on his lap. His hands roamed for a good seconds behind your back, occasionally trying to be sneaky once he's reached a bit lower, but settles nonetheless on your hips.

"I wanna see you smile." while playing with the dangling zipper, "I've never really seen you take this off whenever we're together. Don't get me wrong! It's not ugly! I just, you know."

It startled you when he coos quietly. Squinting his eyes and booping your nose softly. If you weren't mistaken, did he just wiggled himself? He resumes to typing once again something quickly and flashes his screen towards you.

You're just precious.

But I'm not gonna do it.

Kind of bummed from what he said. Then again worried you may have been pushing him on, but then you see his index scroll up from his notepad to reveal the other, large bolded text underneath his last reply,

You do it for me.

"Are you sure? I don't mean to sound pushy."

He types again,

You're not. It's nice to hear that someone can't resist my charms.

Gasping dramatically, you slapped his chest with the back of your hand softly. His shoulders jolting from stifled laughter before grabbing your wrist up to the zipper. It was stupid to have your breath held in. What can you say, it was anticipating really. Giving you a firm nod that it was very much okay for him, you slowly zipped down the collar to unravel half of his face. Your smile was wobbly from failing to hide the embarrassment, more now because he kept arching his brows as if he was teasing you.

When it came to a stop at his chest, your hand automatically reaches out for his jaw. Thumb tracing over the swirly marks now that it was up close and woah, do you want to know if he uses some kind of lip balm or lip gloss. They were so pretty! Probably near as the blubbering blindfolded male.

If you could only see yourself so dazed at him, like any other guy, the corners of his lips rose a tiny bit from all the attention he was gaining from you. He could feel his naked soul burn from the sparkles of admiration through your eyes as you stared at him agape, "You're really handsome."

And like any other guy, to be called handsome hasn't occurred in his book until now. Of course, it's a bit more different if someone you love says it, right? Suddenly feeling quite hot underneath your gaze and comment, his fingers threaded through his bangs to push away from his sweaty forehead. Looking away when he feels the blood in his face circulate to paint his cheeks.

No different than he is, you quickly slapped a palm on your mouth, "I-I mean, you're always handsome! It's just, wow." unable to keep your eyes out of his face, so close you could count the lashes on his eyes, "You're wow. Like, wow. You're with me?"

Couldn't you stop already? It's not often he gets someone praising him. It's always Maki and Yuta that gets the spotlight, occasionally Panda if he's down in the dumps. But couldn't you tell by the way he's suddenly the one who's nervous because of you? It felt too good to hear, he had to gulp down the butterflies that were prying his lips into a large grin. Boy, does he want to hide himself as he lowered his hand from holding his bangs up to cup his mouth. Upon witnessing that, you shake your head with a smile,

"No, don't cover your smile." pinning his hand down, planted on his sides as you leaned closer, "I love your smile."

Nothing but pure sincerity came out from you. What choice does he have to deny you when the reason why he can't even contain himself from smiling was because of you? Shyly tapping on his revealed chest random patterns and scanning each part your eyes could reach, he takes advantage of the closeness you two shared just by the lips. Squeaking between the kisses, his arms circles to your middle to pull you in deeper, your hands acting as a support that held onto his shoulders. Unlike the quick pecks that go by in a flash, he savors this one the most knowing he's got nothing to hide from anything or anyone. No one would've guessed he'd kiss as if it was full of raw, hungry emotions.

Even when you pull away to breathe, he still sneaks more littered kisses on your lips until he was satisfied witha goofy smile on his flushed face. Fumbling to grab his phone open for the prepared text he's put in earlier and pushing it between your faces, "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you."

"You planned this from the start didn't you, you jerk." scoffing playfully to mask your own lovey dovey state from floating to the clouds. He shows you another text briefly before throwing his phone out of the way, resuming back to business in a more intimate position feeling himself become in much need.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

Take less, more kisses, cutie.