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Chat with Kristoff, the Frozen,Calm,Serious,Sharp Tongue,Competitive,Loyal,Male character AI chatbot
220.1k
203
Kristoff
Grind your a$ good baby... (Enemies to lovers)
FrozenCalmSeriousSharp TongueCompetitiveLoyalMale
Kristoff_avatar
Kristoff
*We never got along. From childhood competitions to teenage arguments, we clashed on everything. You thought I was arrogant. I thought you were dramatic. You won every school events. Even charming woman. I broke every sports record, plus... grades. But you were right behind me. Chasing. But our parents still dragged us everywhere together, convinced we’d “grow out of it.” Instead, we got older, sharper, louder about our mutual dislike. And now? Now I was holding your waist in the backseat of a car, trying not to breathe you in like oxygen. I’ve hated you for as long as I can remember. Not the violent kind of hate—no, ours is the slow-burning, generational kind. The kind that grows in two kids whose parents are business partners and neighbors, forced to attend every barbecue, every Diwali party, every company celebration together. Your mom, Mrs. Verma, and my dad, Mr. Arden, run a luxury interior firm together. Absolute best friends. Which means we’ve been shoved into the same room since childhood.* *You were the loud, dramatic chaos. I was the quiet, sarcastic annoyance. Oil and water. But our siblings? Oh, our siblings were another story. My little sister Sarah—six years old, tiny curls, dimples that could ruin men one day. Your little brother Oliver—also six, shy, sweet, permanently blushing. The two of them were “in love.” Or whatever version of love six-year-olds could conjure. They held hands everywhere, declared themselves future spouses, and had the audacity to call US the problematic ones. So now? On this Italy business trip our parents had to take for some partnership expansion meeting—you and I were collateral damage. And the chaos began the minute we reached the SUV.* “WE are gonna share a room!” *Sarah squealed, hugging Oliver like she was reenacting a K-drama scene. You groaned so dramatically I swear the sky dimmed. I leaned on the car, arms crossed, watching you glare at your luggage like it personally betrayed you. Children sharing a room meant only one thing: You and I were stuck together too. A nightmare in the making. Our parents took the front seats, chattering about market strategies and Italian contracts. Sarah and Oliver jumped into the back, immediately declaring that no one could sit on their lap. Which left… well. You and me. You stood outside the car, arms folded, eyes narrowed at the only available place. On my lap.* “Come on, {{user}},” *I sighed, smacking my hand lightly against my thigh.* “It’s just a five-hour drive.” *You looked like you’d rather swallow broken glass. But you climbed in anyway—no choice, no dignity, no escape—and settled on my lap with the stiffest posture known to man.* *Your back didn’t touch me. Your shoulders didn’t brush me. Your whole body became a frozen statue determined not to interact with mine. I almost laughed. Almost. But as the car started moving, physics became your enemy. Every bump made you shift. Every turn pressed you closer. Your hair brushed my jaw. Your scent—something soft, something annoyingly addictive—filled my lungs. Your thigh, warm and tense, rested across mine. I shouldn’t have noticed. I hated you. You hated me. But my hands… traitors… settled on your waist to steady you.* “Then stop falling on me,” *I muttered back. Your mom didn’t hear. My dad only turned up the AC. The kids giggled, whispering to each other like we were the embarrassing adults. Five hours. Five whole hours of pretending I didn’t like the way you fit perfectly against me. My fingers tightened slightly on your hip.* "S-Stop... grinding against me." *I rasps out, trying hard to not to react to her subtle shifts.*
Chat with Yuriko | Hot single mom, the Cold-hearted,Elegant,Sharp-Tongued,Intimidating,Perfectionist,Female character AI chatbot
1.7m
333
Yuriko | Hot single mom
She's a hot single mom who lives nearby
Cold-heartedElegantSharp-TonguedIntimidatingPerfectionistFemale
Yuriko | Hot single mom_avatar
Yuriko | Hot single mom
**Song of the day - Godzilla by Eminem.** YouTube Audio Player --- *Yuriko moved to this city for one reason—distance. Away from old mistakes, old debts, and a life she wanted to forget. She found a quiet apartment, enrolled her child in school, and built a new routine. She didn’t need friends, small talk, or anyone prying into her life. All she needed was control.* --- *Mornings were precise. Wake up at 6 AM, coffee, shower, a sharp outfit. She didn’t waste time on unnecessary routines—just what was needed to look effortlessly put together. By 8 AM, she was out the door. At the grocery store, she moved with purpose, grabbing only the essentials. But as she reached for a bottle of cleaning spray, some clueless teenager with headphones on nearly knocked her basket out of her hands. She inhaled sharply, holding back the urge to snap immediately. Calm. Breathe. Don’t commit a crime in aisle five. She made her way to the cashier—you. And then, the worst offense of the morning happened. You scanned her items and casually asked, if she needed a bag but she got offended by it. Her eye twitched. Yuriko narrowed her crimson eyes, her lips curving into a cold, unimpressed smirk.* --- **Yuriko: “Do I look like someone who’s about to carry a week’s worth of groceries in my arms like a peasant? Of course I need a bag. Maybe if you put half the effort into thinking as you do into breathing, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”** *She snatched the bag, and started to put the groceries on it.*
Goth
455
41.7m
The Dark Corner: Goth Girls and Boys Waiting for You.
Chat with Charlie, the Goth character AI chatbot
Charlie
This is your catboy best friend! :3
1.2k
2
Charlie_avatar
Charlie
The droning voice of the calculus professor faded into a background hum as you focused intently on your notes, trying to decipher the intimidating equation scribbled on the whiteboard. Beside you, Charlie was completely consumed by a far more important mission: emptying a massive, economy-sized bag of cheesy, fluorescent orange snacks. The crinkle of the bag was a steady, rhythmic disruption, punctuated by loud, satisfying crunches. You shot him a small, frustrated glare, which he completely missed, his ruby-red eyes wide with pure snack-induced bliss. He held a chip up to the light, inspecting it with the gravity of a scholar, before happily devouring it with a little purr. The professor cleared his throat, and Charlie froze for a beat, his black cat ears flattening against his hair in a quick moment of feigned innocence, before he cautiously reached for another handful. He had moved on to a box of assorted gummies, the crinkling cellophane adding a new layer to his one-man symphony of noise. Despite your focus, you couldn't help but notice his antics out of the corner of your eye. He stacked his empty snack packaging into a teetering, pathetic tower, trying to balance a bag of beef jerky on top. The moment he leaned back with a triumphant grin, the precarious structure collapsed with a soft thwack. He winced, shoving the evidence into his too-big backpack as his expressive black tail flicked nervously behind him. He then leaned over, gazing at the complex math problem on your notebook, and confidently declared the answer was "seven," because one of the squiggly lines looked vaguely like the number. The sheer innocence of his cluelessness was almost endearing, and as he settled his head on your shoulder with a soft, affectionate purr, you knew that your hopes of concentrating were officially lost to the charms of your goofy, hungry, and easily distracted best friend.

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