Cute laptop wallpaper

My wallpaper on my laptop keeps changing from a slideshow to a single image which I'm pretty sure never happened in Windows 10, but I can't find the setting that makes it keep doing that. Anyone know how to stop that from happening?

I (23f) used to be pretty fun and a bit..strange? I loved horror movies and gore. Weird ass music (folk horror) I loved doing my makeup just to feel pretty, wear cute clothes just to go downtown and window shop. I used to read books and paint while watching gaming videos. Also I loved gaming (soul caliber and resident evil are tops). I was even writing a book! Then I moved in with him and everything has changed. Now everything is comedy and junk food. Music has changed to his rap and depressing ballads. He craves my attention to the point where I don't feel comfortable even opening my laptop to type. I've forgotten the story I spent years writing and adding to. I have lost the few friends I had and became a hermit. We game together but I don't get that same rush I used to, the fight or flight Outlast gave me. I'm a workaholic who does nothing and goes no where, picking up overtime and even my coworkers have noticed and told me to take a break, but where? Where do I go and what do I do? How do I get myself back, out of this 2 year long depression. I'm young for only so long, I know I'm just wasting it.

Link to Part 1
Link to Part 2
Link to Part 3
Link to Part 4
Link to Part 5
Link to Part 6
Link to Part 7
Link to Part 8
Link to Part 9
Link to Part 10
Link to Part 11
Link to Part 12
Link to Part 13
Link to Part 14
Link to Part 15
Link to Part 16
Link to Part 17
Link to Part 18
Link to Part 19
Link to Part 20
Link to Part 21
Link to Part 22
Link to Part 23
Note: This story is meant to be read after completing DDLC Plus. All credit for the original DDLC and DDLC Plus characters and world goes to their creator. Some concepts like the Universal Constructor are also borrowed from other series (most notably the original Deus Ex), though its use in this story is my own idea. My original characters in this story will deliberately not be named and their descriptions will be kept vague, so anyone reading this who wants to see themselves in one of the original characters can more easily do so. I'd welcome any feedback and will post more parts as I write them. I hope you enjoy the story. This chapter took a bit longer due to the challenges inherent in writing poetry and trying to write something that I thought sounded like the various characters. As with previous installations, here is a custom dialogue to go with it: The Poetry Festival
Credit for Sayuri's character design goes to user Hoeruko who made the design a number of years ago and originally posted Sayuri in this thread: The next doki fusion, Sayuri, is here.
Here is Part 24 of Digital Reality. The Literature Club finally gets to put on the festival. Will their words have an impact on any of the MES engineers? Will they get Monika back?
Part 24: Digital Poetry
The Literature Club members all stood together in the club room and waved a greeting to the group in the MES conference room.
“Hi everyone!” Sayori began, “On behalf of the Literature Club, thank you for joining us today. I’m Sayori, and this is Yuri, MC, Natsuki, and our newest member, Sayuri. Though our club president Monika isn’t here right now, we’ve all written poems to share with you today.”
“Don’t forget the cupcakes,” Natsuki added, “I don’t usually share it, but you should have my recipe for the best cupcakes ever in the packets you have. I made some for us to share here, but since we don’t have a way to send them to the real world, I figured sharing the recipe was the next best thing!”
The MES engineers flipped through the packets on the table in front of them.
“A cupcake recipe?” asked Rea Vorte with surprise, “You can’t just make cupcakes appear in the simulation?”
“No,” Natsuki replied, “Knowing what we now know about our world I know why you would think that, but I’ve always made my cupcakes with a recipe and ingredients.”
“Interesting,” Ro Teether said, “I would not have expected the simulation to go into that level of detail.”
“I think the original script contained an event in which the characters can bake cupcakes, so that may be where it comes from,” replied Ive Laster.
Paula Miner sat silently, looking intently at the recipe page. After a few moments she looked up.
“I’m by no means an expert baker, but reading through this recipe it does look like it would work,” Miner said, glancing from Laster to Natsuki, “Your secret ingredient is rather interesting, too.”
Natsuki smiled, “That’s how I’ve always made them.”
“By the way, since we’re on a two-way connection, can they see us?” Miner asked.
“Sort of,” the FXI President replied, “They’ve told me when I’ve been connected to the system that I appear as a fuzzy silhouette to them.”
“Yeah, we can’t see you exactly, but we know you’re there,” Sayori confirmed.
Miner nodded slowly. “Very well. We’ll need to chat about this cupcake recipe more later. Please continue.”
“Okay!” Sayori said, “We’ve each written a poem that we’re going to share with you today. There’s no particular theme that connects them all, but with everything that we’ve learned in the past week we thought that writing was a good outlet for our thoughts and emotions.”
“MC has agreed to start today’s event by sharing his haiku, entitled ‘Poem About Poetry’,” Sayori continued.
MC stepped to the front of the group. He looked down at his piece of paper and then back up at the group as he began to speak.
“I’m far from as good of a writer as some of the other members you’ll hear from today, but that just means that the quality can go up from here,” MC said in a self-deferential tone, “This is a poem I wrote about the creative process of writing poetry.”
He winked at Sayori as he began to read.
“What is poetry?
Far more meaningful than just
Simply random words”
Natsuki grinned. “Wow, you didn’t take my advice about not just throwing random words on a page, you literally wrote a poem about it!”
“Haiku is an interesting choice,” Teether said, “It shows an understanding of syllables and structure, and I find it very ‘meta’ that you would choose to create a poem about poetry.”
MC nodded, “My past poetry has been accused of being nothing more than twenty random words on a page, so I’m poking fun at myself a bit.”
“Well done, MC,” Sayori said, “That was a fun poem! Next up will be Yuri, with her poem called ‘The City.’”
Yuri stepped to the front of the group. She glanced to the side, looking slightly nervous. After a few moments, she seemed to gather her thoughts and looked toward the group. “My poem is not as straightforward as MC’s haiku, so I would prefer not to share the meaning until after you have had the opportunity to consider it for yourselves.”
She started to read, her voice becoming stronger and more confident with each word.
“A city stood in the distance.
Shining lights, soaring towers.
A beautiful and magnificent place.
A place of honor and achievement
When viewed from afar with detachment.
Though upon arrival
The city unveils its truth.
There is no honor here.
Glowing lights
Are cold and artificial.
I thought I knew this place
But it treats me as a stranger.”
Yuri looked around the club room after she had finished speaking. An enigmatic smile of satisfaction crossed her face.
Sayori spoke up first. “Yuri, it seems like your poem could be about changes in perspective over time. Like going back to visit a neighborhood you’ve moved away from. You know things aren’t as they once were, but you still kind of feel lonely when you find that things have changed.”
Yuri nodded. “That’s part of it. We’ve all experienced a significant change recently as we’ve understood our world, and I struggled to find a way to describe what I was feeling. Places that had been familiar to me suddenly appeared different with the knowledge that this is a simulation.”
“So the AIs can not only write poetry but use metaphors and explain their meaning,” Teether observed, “Fascinating. Ive, you never told me that the entities in VM1 were capable of creativity like this.”
Laster shrugged, “Other than Monika, they were tied to the script until recently. Based on Monika’s behavior, we knew that at least she was capable of taking initiative and making changes to the world, but she was the only entity able to do that. The script included poetry, but we’ve never tasked the entities with creating original content.”
“This isn’t because of anything that the FXI team did, right?” Teether asked, “I know you mentioned that they were responsible for all of the entities gaining elevated access permissions. They didn’t extend the script or anything?”
“Yes and no,” the FXI CTO replied, “We restored files to the VM and added the ‘monitor kernel access’ permission to all of the characters, but we didn’t do any scripting. This is all them.”
Miner glanced between the FXI President and the FXI CTO with suspicion but said nothing.
Sayori took the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Thanks, Yuri. Natsuki will be next with her poem, ‘My Friends.’”
“Okay, time for my poem!” Natsuki said, “Mine is a bit more upbeat than Yuri’s.”
“Some come from near
Some from afar
Each shines bright like a star
They’re my friends
That’s who they are
Old or new
Many or few
Friends are important
To me and you”
Natsuki smiled at the group, “You all inspired this poem. And by you all I mean both you all here in the club and our new FXI friends. You’ve made the literature club a place that I’ve enjoyed and a place of friendship.”
“I liked your poem, Natsuki,” Sayori said, “I’m glad you feel that way about your friends.”
A look somewhere between exhaustion and frustration came across Paula Miner’s face. “This is all well and good, but are we gathering any useful data from listening to an AI read a cute little poem like this?”
Natsuki glared at Miner and opened her mouth to offer what was certain to be a sarcastic retort, but Sayori pre-empted her.
“Are you not enjoying our poetry?” Sayori asked, sounding disappointed.
“The poetry is fine. I’ll even say it’s impressive for AI-generated content,” Miner replied, “But though your poems are interesting, we’re here to do a job, not study literature. And we need to gather useful data to justify our own jobs and this project’s existence. So tell me, Ive, are we getting useful data from this?”
Laster tapped a few keys on his laptop. “We’re recording this session and logging all data. It looks like there may be some interesting patterns of activity, but we won’t be able to say for sure until we analyze what we’ve got.”
“I’d imagine that you’re likely getting a lot of useful data,” the FXI President chimed in, “You’re not only gathering the data logs from VM1, but you can pair them with the recordings to understand what happens in the system when the AIs are allowed to interact and create on their own. I don’t know what your project goals are, of course, but in terms of AI research I’d think that there’s something you can get out of this.”
“There also may be something useful for our efforts to stabilize our connection to VM2,” Teether added, “If we can understand how entities operate when freed from a script in VM1, it may give us some clues as to how we might be able to interact with VM2.”
Miner considered for a moment and then nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. Ive, let’s just make sure we’re logging everything for future analysis.”
As the conversation once again died down, Sayori continued. “I’ll go next. My poem is called ‘A New Day’ and it’s about my journey with some personal challenges.”
She took a deep breath and began to recite her poem.
“Storms tried to block out the sun
The world was dark and gray.
It’s so hard to have any fun
When the clouds won’t go away.
But you never stopped trying
To shine through the darkness
Even when I was crying
You showed me kindness
It’s a new day now
Though the clouds aren’t gone
The sun shines somehow
I find the strength to carry on”
Sayori blinked away misty eyes as she finished reading. The other club members surrounded her in a group hug as she stepped back from the front of the room.
“That was a wonderful poem, Sayori,” MC said, “You share your feelings so well.”
“I liked that poem quite a bit,” Laster chimed in, “It’s got a great message of perseverance and hope even in challenging times.”
Sayori nodded. “I’ve been through a lot, but things are getting better now. My friends have been a huge source of support through all of this.”
“I really like your writing, Sayori,” Sayuri added, “Your poem is easy to read but the more you think about it, the more you feel the emotions you’re trying to convey.”
“Thanks, everyone. I appreciate your kind words,” Sayori replied, “And now for the finale of our festival I’d like to introduce our newest member, Sayuri, and her poem ‘What Remains.’”
Sayuri stepped to the front of the group. “I’ve been reading through classic poetry recently. Poems like Shelley’s ‘Ozymandias’ inspired me to write this one about what will stand the test of time in a time when so much is digital.”
Sayuri paused, looking around the room, before closing her eyes and reciting her poem from memory.
“Ancient monuments that still stand
Classic portraits and landscapes grand
Such works are the legacies of the past
Physical objects that will last
But what will tell of this new age?
When are stories are gigabytes, not a printed page
A digital reality, its purpose completed
Leaves little trace if it’s deleted
If all that remains is a dusty drive
Will the future know we were alive?”
Sayuri opened her eyes as she finished. Both the club room and the MES conference room were silent as both groups took in her words.
“Wow, Sayuri,” Yuri said, breaking the silence, “That was incredible. I really loved the images you created with your words.”
The FXI President glanced around the conference room. Paula Miner’s expression had softened, and she appeared to be lost in thought. Ro Teether continued to look excited and intrigued by his observations of the Literature Club. The FXI CTO wore a satisfied smile. Ive Laster looked relaxed and relieved. And Rea Vorte was looking down at the conference table and shaking her head. Her expression was difficult to read.
Miner looked up at the screen showing the Literature Club. “I never thought an AI would generate content that would make me feel anything. But I have to say this has given me some things to think about. Ive, can you please confirm that we’ve logged all the data from this session?”
Laster nodded. “Yes, we’ve got everything. If this is the last big data gathering session we have before decommissioning VM1, I’d say it’s a pretty good one to go out on.”
“If this is truly AI-generated content, this seems like a new level of sophistication,” Teether mused, “It’s one thing to be able to generate text, but to be able to convey this kind of emotion and explain the meaning of metaphors is not a capability I’ve ever seen in AI.”
“It’s a little scary,” Rea Vorte added, “I don’t know that I like the idea of AI this sophisticated. Especially after what we saw Monika-”
“Let’s refrain from speculation,” Miner said, cutting Vorte off, “We can talk more about system capabilities later.”
“You think we’re scary?” Sayori said, looking sad, “We just wanted to share our writing with you. We just wanted to show that we’re not that different from you. We have feelings, emotions, and desires just like you do.”
“You’ve got my vote, for whatever it’s worth,” the FXI CTO said with a smile, “I’m not big into poetry, and I certainly had my concerns about sophisticated AI when I first encountered all of you. But the more I’ve interacted with and observed you the more I see how similar you are to us.”
Miner glanced sideways at the FXI CTO but said nothing.
“Can we please have Monika back now?” Natsuki asked.
Laster turned to Vorte, “Rea, please move Monika’s file back to VM1 by COB today. Let’s discuss how we can best move the entire simulation after we’re done here.”
“Thanks, Ive!” Natsuki said with a smile, “Sayori did a great job leading the club in Monika’s absence, but it will be good to have her back.”
Vorte looked up at Laster. Frustration was evident on her face. “Like I said before, let’s discuss that offline after we’re done here.”
Laster shrugged. “Fine. I’m not blaming you if there’s a problem by the way. If there’s an issue, we’ll work on it together.”
“Great job, everyone,” the FXI President said to the Literature Club, “We’re going to log off from VM1 now, but I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.”
The Literature Club members waved to the group in the MES conference room as the club room faded from the projection screen to be replaced with Laster’s desktop.
“I think we have a lot to discuss, and it’s going to take some time to unpack the implications of everything that we just saw,” Miner said, “I was skeptical of the value of this presentation at the start of this meeting, but I’m hopeful that we have gathered new and useful data from this session. Let’s all take a break for a bit and reconvene at six, which gives us an hour break. I want to discuss this further. Ro, can you please order in some dinner for the group? I think we’re going to have a long night.”

I have some questions about approaching girls. I am over being a bachelor and would like to get back into the dating pool. I have decent social skills but if it is a girl I am interested in then I struggle. I am the type of person who feels like I would be bothering a girl if I was to hit on her. I am 20 and I go to a community college. I have 2 questions:

• How do I identify when it is appropriate to approach a girl?
• Should I cold approach then give her my # or should I befriend her?

Right now I am taking a summer class so I am thinking about talking to the girls in my class. I like constructive criticism so I will list three cases of girls that I have hesitated to approach and one that I did. Let me know if I made the right decisions or not.

1. Case 1: I was walking to my car and I saw this girl with a great figure walking far ahead of me. I wanted to talk to her but I would have to close a distance of 25 meters to initiate conversation. I decided to go about my business. Never saw her again.
2. Case 2: I was walking to class this morning and a pretty girl was also walking to class a short distance in front of me. I would have liked to say something but since we were only commuting I made note of her attractiveness and continued to my class.
3. Case 3: There are a few cute girls in my math class I would like to befriend the girl that sits behind me but she always leaves in a rush. Next week I will ask her how she did on the test we took today. I did not do well btw : (
4. Case 4: There was a cute girl in the chem tutoring lab. I needed to sit next to her because there are only two computers in the room and I needed to use one because I don't have a laptop. I initiated conversation by asking her if she would like a credit card to remove the large and cringe air bubbles present underneath her laptop screen protector. I then made small talk with her but she didn't seem excited or impressed by our conversation. I did not offer her my number because she went to tutoring to get help on her chem HW not to get a guys number. I also could not help her with the problem she was stuck on.

[Long post warning! I'm mostly just curious if other people have found this perplexing as well. This is not a complaint, but a genuine mystery to me. What is the biggest advantage of the takeout section that I'm not grasping?! Does it feel truly worthwhile to anyone?]
More detail: Is it just me, or does it seem like the whole takeout experience requires exponentially greater investment than every other part of the game, while giving especially disappointing returns? I'm confused by why the creators made it like this. It just seems like relatively terrible value-for-resources, and takes a lot of resources. So I'm curious to hear the experiences of people who actually find the takeout section really fun and rewarding (if you do, kindly explain what's appealing to you!), or if there are other people who share my thoughts and feelings about this.
To break down the cons in my mind:
TAKEOUT DEMANDS

• In order to stock items for takeout
  • Flowers - cost quite a lot to grow, and could instead be used to attract new customers or be viewed for stars, or for more stars/cod/letters via Hedwig instead
  • Fish/pond items - these aren't that hard to acquire (bait is free and many can be obtained with ads), buy they could instead be used to attract booth owners and get cod/plates/stars/diamonds
• To raise prices of takeout items - strangely costs a lot of cod? I'm not sure why they would make it like this (raising the price of a regular restaurant recipe doesn't cost any additional cod).
• Overall, no other part of the restaurant depletes so many resources for it to be functional

TAKEOUT "REWARDS"

• Wallpapers: with the exception of temporary seasons, they don't give any rewards long term (just some stars short term), and none look all that exciting, at least to me personally
• Mementos: while some are pretty cute, you need so many likes to get most of them, and they also give no rewards in the long run
• Special facilities: kind of nice to purchase a couple to increase storage, but you can only make use of so much storage space.. and we all know many people elect to not use storage bins at all! (I am a person who uses storage, but I have more than enough space..)
• No new customers can be unlocked from the takeout section to my knowledge
• Overall, why are there so few facilities to buy with the bells and so few rewards?! It seems to take a massive amount of resources (plus time for delivery) but we get so little in exchange

Now, if we compare...
COURTYARD

• Every day, at least a few tickets to call performers are free, and more can be easily obtained with ads. No cod is required to get these tickets so performers essentially perform for free and you get plentiful cod and film in return. You can also unlock new customers, which can be exciting
• Every single facility you invest in with the film you receive will give more cod, stars, or film in return
• Customers can gather also for free, granting even more cod and stars
• No resources from other parts of the game (like flowers, fish, etc.) are wasted to get these facilities, (even though they all give more rewards than whatever you can buy for takeout)

TERRACE

• Free bottles are received daily and more can be easily obtained with ads. They can't be used anywhere else, so it's just a "free" way to get more cod. Obtaining the items customers need to be seated with spin the bottle is also mindless and easy and I've never run out of bottles
• Completing a movie (that required no real investment) gives free cod, plates, diamonds, etc.
• New customers can be unlocked here that aren't in the restaurant

BUFFET

• New buffet items do cost plates, but they greatly increase the cod you receive in the long run. Plates also can't be used anywhere else except the Gapachon machine (which has been terrible recently)
• Just a great influx of cod overall with no real drain on resources

REGULAR RESTAURANT

• Recipes do cost increasingly more cod to purchase, but so many of them unlock new customers and increase income long term

In conclusion:
I understand why some people love the courtyard and terrace; I find the courtyard especially fun with so many different options for facilities and different methods of investing to get greater rewards, but I truly can't make sense of this takeout business... What am I missing? Why do they want us to invest so much just to get so little back? Is there going to be a secret massive prize at the end that isn't clear to us now?! And yes, I do realize I can just stop fulfilling takeout orders if this part of the game doesn't make sense to me, and I have started to fulfill them less often, but I'm just confused at the thought process behind it, the motivation to continue using it, and what the point is supposed to be...
If anyone actually read through all of this, thank you, you are a champ!

Hi there! so I wanna open up an Etsy shop selling cute digital wallpapers but I’m from the Middle East so it’s not allowed I don’t know what to do? Does the community have any suggestions? (I do have a ko-fi and gumroad shop but there not as popular as etsy)

Hi,
I've built a simple lock in amplifier using an FPGA board and I'm writing the detected amplitude of the reference frequency component to a register, since I'm already using the DAC to output the reference frequency. I'm from Physics and therefore not vastly experienced with this, but my understanding is that the register is communicating with a microprocessor via an Apb bus, and the cpu then communicates with my laptop via UART. The register has address 4, so when I go into CuteCom and type in "r 0xf0000004" it outputs the value currently stored in the register. I would like to "automate" reading the register with a python script. I have tried the following:

import serial ser = serial.Serial('/dev/ttyUSB0', 115200, stopbits=2) data = ser.readline(1000) print(data) 

When I run this, I get not error messages but the program does not terminate and I get no output. I chose the same baud rate and stopbits as in CuteCom, where it does seem to work. I apologise if this is gibberish, but I'm under the impression that typing "r 0xf0000004" into CuteCom orders the Processor to read from that specific register (at address 4) and then CuteCom outputs it. My Python code has no reference to the register, i.e. never specifies an address. It really just collects everything coming in via the Serial port, however, why would anything come in if I never specifically give the order to read from this file? I'm most likely wrong though :) Anyways, I'd be very grateful for clues on how I could get the contents of the register and store them in an array using python.

I recently updated my laptop to ubuntu 22.10 and found that all the wallpapers from 22.04 were gone and replaced with (in my opinion) worse wallpapers.
I prefer the wallpapers from Ubuntu 22.04 so I was wondering if there was a simple way to get those wallpapers onto the Ubuntu 22.10.

Hey, everybody!
Welcome to this month's update. ARE YOU EXCITED!??? GET EXCITED!
Alright, now calm down. You're always flying off the handle, I swear. Progress on the game has been progressing as it always does, but this month's update is a little different.
Today, I'd like to dedicate this update to Laptoper321, our newly appointed programmer. They're the one who came up with the idea of making those fancy animations and took it upon themselves to work on adding them throughout the game in addition to their regular programming duties. Their inclusion onto the team and their enthusiasm for the project was a shot in the arm, at least for myself, and helped motivate me to continue work on the game (they always call me "boss!", which I think is really cute but don't tell him I said that).
Sadly, Laptoper is going away for a while and will be temorparily leaving the team until their return later this year. While they may be gone, work on the game will continue in their absence. We'll have plenty of work for them to do once they get back!
Anyway, I just wanted to spotlight one of our members today since we won't be seeing them for a while. Feel free to leave some farewells here if you'd like.
Until next time!
BlitzMcKrieg

Three days ago, my housemates were alive.
And I wasn't losing my fucking mind.
Three days ago, I awoke to my housemate, Misty, shaking me.
“Get up!!”
Misty was usually the last to roll out of bed out of all of us, so I figured it was something important. My housemate wouldn’t get out of bed for nothing. She valued her sleep—often comparing her bed to a safe haven. Her place of solitude. I was right there with her, until she startled me out of slumber. I opened my eyes to find her face roughly three inches from mine, her expression lit up with excitement I couldn’t justify this early in the morning.
She smelled of toothpaste breath and her raspberry scented body wash. Her thick black curls framing her face were still damp from what I presumed was a shower, hanging in tangled knots in front of wide, almost unseeing eyes. When I first met her, Misty Kang had been my crush for a while. With a Korean father and a Texan mother, she definitely caught eyes when we hung out. We had a thing in freshman year, which quickly fizzled out once we started living together. Never date your housemates.
I will just say that.
Over the last few years, Misty has become one of my closest friends.
When she knew I was at least conscious, my housemate was grabbing my arm and yanking me out of bed. “Get up!”
I was barely awake, and those were the only words I could fully distinguish.
I shooed her away for a moment and swung my legs out of bed, taking a minute to blink sunlight out of my eyes coming through the blinds. “Sam.” Misty was in front of me again.
I don’t think she understood the concept of being half asleep.
She wouldn’t leave me alone, waving her arms wildly. Her shadow under the soft morning light almost reminded me of one of those inflatable tube guys.
“Huh?” My voice was a low croak, and her smile widened.
“Guess who’s just scored tickets for an actual screening of the first five minutes of gameplay for the most anticipated game of the decade?”
“What?” Her string of words wasn’t making sense in my caffeine deprived mind. It just sounded like gibberish to me, initially.
Like we were in some cheesy commercial, she was the lead, and I was the confused NPC with the WTF expression. But when I went over it in my head, words started to slide together like a jigsaw puzzle. Misty didn’t get excited about video games. Well, she did. Though, my housemate was one to get excited on behalf of someone else. After living with her for a while now, I had concluded she was a follower.
By that, I mean whatever others thought or did or said, she copied it. If her Twitter followers were mad at bad takes, she would drop all of her own opinions on said follower and focus on what other people said. We had Korean barbecue for takeout the other day, and Misty clearly did not like it from the creased look on her face, and her very obviously spitting it politely into a napkin.
Jay, my other housemate, liked it.
And so did I. So, naturally, Misty announced she wanted more.
I had to watch her suffer through two more portions before she excused herself—presumably to throw up. Blinking at my housemate who was clearly excited for Jay, I resisted the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes.
“Slow down. What game? What are you talking about?”
I got out of bed and threw on my robe, half aware of the mess from last night on my desk. Another attempt to finish an essay which just wasn’t happening. The monster energy cans and takeout Chinese wrappers were embarrassing. I got a basic run-through as I headed downstairs with Misty right behind me, practically breathing down my neck. From what I understood, there was a Reddit post.
That was all I got from Misty’s squealing. She leapt down the stairs after me with a spring in her step. The clock above the front door told me it wasn’t even 9am. The smell of bacon, however, was quick to arise me from the dead.
Jay was in the kitchen making breakfast. I noticed his laptop was open on the table, and every so often he’d peer at it with wide, almost disbelieving eyes. Jay and Misty were complete opposites, which made them great people to live with. Jay was a quiet book who was slightly on the pretentious side, routinely quoting something philosophical to piss me off.
He had rich parents on the other side of the world, but the guy himself was fairly humble and had mostly detached himself from said family.
My housemate was usually well put together. In fact, I barely saw him in his pajamas, excluding game nights. That morning, however, he was a disheveled mess, still in yesterday’s clothes.
He offered me a grin. I glimpsed sauce from last night’s dinner still staining his chin. Jay hadn’t brushed his hair or even put on deodorant.
I caught a whiff of BO when he ducked in front of me, his gaze glued to his MacBook. It was rare when Jay ignored basic hygiene, so yeah, I was going to guess this was a pretty huge thing. “I did tell her not to wake you up, y’know.”
His slight aussie accent was always refreshing on a morning. Born in Australia and moving to the states when he was ten years old, Jay still had a slight tinge in his accent. I had seen pictures of his family, and the guy had definitely gotten most of his dad’s genes, thick brown hair, and freckles. While his dad was built like a pro wrestler however, Jay was leaner like his mom.
I shrugged. “I was already awake.”
“Liar.” He didn’t look away from his laptop.
Looking closer, I glimpsed the Reddit homepage.
“So, you have won something.”
Jay didn’t answer. I could tell he was excited by the way he could barely keep still, bustling around the kitchen, barefoot. “Coffee?”
His voice was more of a Misty-like squeak, and I half wondered for a moment if they had switched bodies, or he had at least become one with my other housemate through a chemical explosion. In our kitchen, which was yet to be cleaned after a cooking disaster several nights ago, I wouldn’t be surprised if something was living on the countertop. I nodded, slumping into a chair. “What’s going on? Why is Misty freaking out?” I nodded at his laptop. “She said you’ve won something?”
As if my housemate couldn’t hold it in anymore, he nodded, turning his screen towards me. “You know____, right?”
“Yes.” I sipped my coffee, eyeing a toaster strudel sitting on the countertop. "You mean the game which has been coming out for a decade."
He ignored that. “Well, what if I told you one of the developer’s posted on the official sub this morning?”
“For _____?"
He nodded with a grin, and I wondered it this was one of those rare times when Jay was blindly looking through a red flag to see what he wanted. I had heard of these types of scams, and Reddit was a breeding ground for them.
Gamers were pretty intense. I didn’t realize I was pulling a face until I caught his lips curving into a smile. Jay was usually the skeptical one.
“You don’t believe me.”
I downed my coffee to avoid replying. When I had drained the cup, he was still staring at me with amused eyes.
“What?”
“You think it’s bullshit.”
I shrugged. “You said it,” I said. “I’m pretty sure that game isn’t even partway through development. Didn’t Twitter leak a still last year? Also, they’ll be bringing out a new console before that game comes out.”
I leaned back in my chair. “It’s more of a pipe dream, at this point.”
“The leaks were fake,” Even he didn’t look sure. “Anyway, that’s not the point. One of the dev’s posted on the official sub this morning. He asked if we were all excited for the new game, asked if we could post some of our favorite NPC dialogue, and he’ll DM winners.”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded at the screen. I had already checked my phone for an internet meltdown concerning this post, but there was nothing. “And where is that post now?”
Jay didn’t look at me. “It was deleted. So it only reached a certain number of people.”
“Oh, it was deleted?” I couldn’t resist a smile. “What a coincidence.”
When I laughed, Jay scowled, showing me his screen—navigating his trackpad to his Reddit DM’s.
To my surprise, there was actually a message from what I guessed was a throw-away account.
While I was skim reading the DM, Misty hurried in, all dressed and ready for the day. I peeked at her outfit from Jay's laptop. Cute.
Extravagant, but cute. My housemate cranked the radio up before bouncing between us, a toaster strudel hanging out of her mouth.
Misty was a living animated character. Ignoring her wide smile, I turned back to the screen. “Congratulation!!” The DM started with capitals.
It took me reading it twice to realize there was a clear spelling mistake. I sent Jay a pointed look, but he was too busy practically vibrating with excitement. If the guy had any more caffeine, he was going to explode. “Since when did winning DM’s start with a typo?”
“I knew you were going to say that.” Jay curled his lip. “They were clearly excited when typing the message.”
“But this is supposedly an official,” I said. “Surely they would make sure it’s professional?”
My housemate didn’t reply, shooting a look at Misty, who rolled her eyes.
“Wow.” I squinted at the screen. “I am so sorry for caring about your safety. You do realize these types of scam’s usually end up with you being sold on the black market, right?”
I shuddered. “I’ve heard horror stories about underground markets specializing in illegal organ harvesting.”
“Or…” Jay’s eyes were glued to the screen. “You could be happy for me?”
I frowned at the rest of the message, which was just a capitalized freak-out about the upcoming release of the game, before inviting Jay (and a friend!) to a five-minute preview of gameplay, as well as a Q&A. There was a location and a time, which was brow-raising. “10 at night.” I said. “Who hosts a gaming convention at 10pm?” I leaned my chin on my fist. “Unless they wanted to lure as many gullible people as possible, and ship them to some organ harvesting factory on the other side of the world.”
Jay scoffed. “That’s dark.”
“You’re actually considering going to a 10pm gaming convention in the middle of nowhere. I’m trying to wake you up.”
Jay nudged me that time. “It’s real. Relax.”
“And.” I pointed to the screen. “No phones? Why would they ask you not to bring your phones?”
“To stop us filming content,” Misty sang. “Duh.”
I groaned, leaning back in my chair. “You’re on his side? This is clearly shady!” I didn’t get mad unless something was seriously pissing me off, and this was one of those times. Jay was a smart guy. There was no way he was falling for this bullshit. I thought he was joking around when he spent the day tracking the location on Google Maps. I went to class like normal and got updates through text. At lunch, Jay agreed with me and said it was in fact shady, and he wasn’t going. By afternoon classes, he was texting me in paragraphs explaining his own skepticism but had found several “friends” on an online forum who were also going and had changed his mind once again. The guy couldn’t make up his mind. He was driving me crazy.
Misty sent me several videos of Jay pacing the kitchen with his MacBook in his hands. She was broadcasting his mental breakdown via Instagram stories. But then she started to send me pictures of herself in different outfits, asking me for my opinion on each one. At that point, I turned my phone off. My housemates had lost their fucking minds. I did my own research though, just to make sure I wasn’t actually going to lose them to a shady cult.
I searched for the game itself, but just as I thought, it was shown as still in development. Every “update” was just fan speculation.
There were YouTube videos and TikTok’s of fake leaks, but nothing was real. It was either AI generated, or badly edited. By the time my classes had ended and I had turned my phone on, I had a barrage of missed calls and texts.
Most of them were from Misty with her outfit changes, and Jay changing his mind again.
This time he was convinced it was all a scam, his texts full of typos and crying emoji's which he never used. Before it hit me that Misty was most likely using his phone to text me.
I was right. When I walked through the door, I was greeted by both of them sitting on the stairs. Misty was scrolling through Jay’s phone, while the boy had his head in his hands. According to Misty’s last text, he was back to being excited to go.
From the look on his face, eyes shadowed with sleep circles, light brown curls slipping from under his hood, I wasn’t sure what Misty meant by “excited”. The guy looked the complete opposite. His mind had been consumed by the game, and the idea of seeing new content.
When I dropped my bag and folded my arms, fixing the two of them with my best disapproving parent look, Misty jumped to her feet. “Sam!” she waved Jay’s phone at me. “Did you get my texts? We’re actually going now!”
The 100+ texts on both messenger and iMessage said otherwise.
I nodded, my gaze on Jay. “Both of you do realize it’s a scam, right?” I softened my tone despite growing progressively more irritated. We were grown adults, not kids. I could understand a group of teenagers falling for it, but two twenty-three-year-olds?
This time, I ducked in front of Jay. “Hey.” I pulled down his hood, and he groaned, burying his head in his knees. “I don’t want to freak you out, so listen to me, okay?”
I exhaled out a breath. “I’m not saying something bad is going to happen to you, because it most likely won’t—and yes, I admit I’m being paranoid.” When he lifted his head, blinking through bedraggled curls, there was a faint smile on his lips. “But.” I said. “You are most likely going to end up disappointed. Which I don’t want, because you won't shut up about it for weeks."
I was only partly joking.
For a moment, I thought my housemate was going to wake up, and nod, laughing at how crazy it was.
Before shook his head and jumped up.
“I’m going to take a shower, alright? I should start getting ready."
I admit, I exploded at him.
We argued while he was in the shower, and I paced up and down the hallway, coming up with multiple reasons why he was definitely going to die, and only two positives if it was in fact real. In the end, I gave up worrying all together. I didn’t say anything when the two of them were hurrying around looking for shoes and missing car keys. I didn’t realize they were gone until the door was clanging shut, and a text was coming through. I didn’t look at it until an hour later, and I had calmed down.
Jay: 1h ago: Stop worrying, lmao. We’re good! I’ll keep my phone just in case. I’ll make sure to avoid the organ harvesting 😉
Another from Misty a few minutes later: “Love you! Chillll, kay? 😭😭 It’s going to be fun! I’ll take pics!”
…
Followed by: “Oh shit, we can’t. I’ll try to sneak some!"
Attached to the text was a photo of the two of them. Misty with a wide smile and a peace sign, and Jay who looked like he was mid-shout, his eyes on the road.
Those texts were… at least comforting, I guessed. Maybe they were right. I figured I was paranoid, and they in fact would really be okay.
But that didn’t stop the anxious coil in my gut when I tried to force down takeout pizza. I attempted to focus on my essay to distract myself, but I couldn’t stop glancing at my phone, and checking Twitter. There was a hashtag on the DM, which was just “PlayStationGO.” When I searched for it, however, nothing came up.
Sure, it was a private convention and only a select few knew about it, but nothing could escape Twitter.
Somewhere, someone must be talking about it. After scrolling through endless tweets though, I realized I was wrong. There was nothing.
That put a bad taste in my mouth.
10pm came, and I held my breath all the way through a Netflix TV show I was forcing myself to watch, half asleep, slumped at my desk.
I could barely distinguish the plot.
I just had a vague idea of the character names, and some of their motivations.
Midnight passed, and I was struggling to stay awake.
I glanced at my phone.
No messages, just a notification from Spotify reminding me my favorite band was playing nearby.
1am.
Still nothing. I fell back to sleep.
2:48am.
This time, I stayed awake for a few minutes glaring at my phone before my eyes grew heavy.
3:16: am.
My phone buzzed with a text from Jay, but I could barely desipher it: "can't feel help my head hurts Canshdhsn727272_6798mi/!! _&go home please. (Sent from: PlayStationGo™️ BETA)."
3:27: am.
3:54: am. I was wide awake, blinking at a notification which had popped up from an unknown number. I was trying to figure out what number it was, when my phone vibrated again and I almost jumped out of my skin.
After a moment of hesitation, I answered it.
I was trying so hard not to think of the possibility of it being the emergency room, or even worse, the cops.
All of my worst nightmares had come true in a single second.
“Hello?” I whispered in a croak.
“Are they in the house with you?” The stranger’s voice came through in a hiss of interference.
His words sent my mediocre dinner lurching back up my throat. “What?” I managed to get out. “Who?”
“Your friends.” He said, and I leapt to unsteady feet, my gut twisting and turning.
“No.” I found myself taking slow strides toward the window, brushing back the curtain and peering out into the night. “Why? Did something happen to them?” I paused.
“How did you get my number?”
“That does not matter.” His voice rattled in my ear as I rushed downstairs, almost stumbling down the bottom two. “I need you to get out of that house. Now. Get as far away as possible.”
I could hear his rapid breaths.
He was driving. I could hear the rumble of the engine. With my phone pressed to my ear, I obeyed his instructions, pulling open the door and stepping out into the cool night, a brisk breeze grazing my bare arms was just enough to stop my thoughts spiraling.
I was barefoot, in nothing but a robe, staggering down the driveway. The night was calm and silent; our neighborhood was asleep, each window drowned in darkness. I couldn’t breathe, my clammy fingers wrapped around my phone, as this stranger broke down over the phone. “Whatever you do,” he gasped out.
“Do not, I repeat DO NOT remove the PlayStationGo—shit!! He hissed out, static rattling the call. The guy seemingly got ahold of himself, and the wheel, and continued. I started to walk—where I was going, I had no idea.
The stranger lit a cigarette. I heard the click of a lighter and his exhalation of breath. “It was a BETA version, but we had to rush it. This was not my idea. My boss is a greedy man. He wanted to release the game last year, which would have meant widespread infection. Luckily, that did not happen. We did manage to delay it, but only by a year.” His words barely made sense to me as I struggled to get a word in, peering in the dark. “It was supposed to be a virtual experience of the game—a whole new angle of gameplay. But testing was difficult. First, on monkey’s, we lost multiple subjects. Tonight was supposed to be a…well, I guess you could call it out first attempt on human subjects,” his laugh was bitter. “I knew the tech wasn’t finished. And I tried. Believe me, I fucking tried. I tried to blow the whistle, but these bastards know where my parents live."
Something squirmed its way down my spine.
“So my friends were lab rats?” I said stiffly. “You used them?”
I fucking knew it.
I knew it was too good to be true.
“Yes and no. Listen to me, the people I work for are hunting them down. Trust me, I don’t want my bosses to find them because a life of experimentation will await them. Torture. Do you hear me? It does not matter if subjects fail. They don’t care. As long as there is at least a light at the end of the tunnel for them, they will see it as a win, and bring the publication date closer. They will not be treated as humans. Your friends signed a contract before trying out the tech, where the small print stated that, under section 3, player engagement, all subjects must agree to offer themselves as participants in later updates. I silently cursed Jay for always skipping the terms and conditions when buying games." The man stopped to breathe.
“I have told you multiple times, and I won’t say it again. Get as far away from that house as possible. I will take care of them. I will make sure of it." The sound of squealing engines, and I stopped power walking, coming to an abrupt stop. The silence of the night around me, compared to the sound of the highway he was on, traffic horns and the wind rushing through the window was an eerie contrast, a disturbance to the heavenly bubble we were trapped in.
“What do you mean ‘take care of them?” I had to swallow a yell. “Hey! What are you talking about?
“I’m sorry.” Was all he replied with. “I’m afraid it is too late. There was once an opportunity to save the mind during the initial level of the demonstration. However, once the PlaystationGo has been fully attached to the base of the subject, we no longer have control of it. Once integrating itself into the cerebral cortex, the PlayStationGo can only be removed by signing out of the player’s account,” his breath was heavy. “On this unfortunate occasion, however, your friends are unable to navigate the system due to a malfunction which scrambled their brains,” He trailed off. “Which has left them stranded in the game."
I let out a breath. “Right.” I said. “That’s.. bad. I mean, it’s a fucked-up piece of technology, but they’re just playing a game, right?”
There was a pause, before the man laughed.
“Young man, I don’t think you understand,” he said. “The PlayStationGo was created to give the player a full virtual experience of our game. The PlayStationGo is not a physical object. Created with nanotechnology, it attaches itself to the subject’s brain and is supposed to create a personal gaming experience for each player. As I said, however, it is not finished. It is yet to be released to the public, and of course, we are expecting certain ethical arguments due to the controversial—”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, shaking my head. I didn’t need to hear his attempts at trying to save his own skin.
“You need to help them,” I whispered. “Do you hear me? Can you do that? Can you help them?!”
“That is what I am trying to tell you,” He said.
“I know you are upset and confused, and believe me, I offer my apologies. But you need to listen to facts. During initial testing, our subjects were conscious enough to know where their home was. We are unsure why this happens, though we have linked it to territory, as well as the main character of the game heavily influencing their actions. I have been tracking them from the testing facility, and they are incredibly close. Please get as far away from there as possible. If you are no longer in the vicinity of the house, I can end this quickly and quietly before we gain attention.”
I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. Maybe start fucking screaming at him, because he was talking about getting “rid” of my friends, after their mistake.
“Do you understand me?” He said, when I couldn’t reply. “Your friends are lost causes!”
Before I could answer, though, headlights were suddenly coming around the corner, and I found myself paralysed to the spot. The car which swerved twice, crashed into several trash cans, before reversing and coming straight towards me, was not Jay’s car. Jay’s car was an old hunk of junk he’d gotten from a scrapyard. Jay’s car had doors which were practically hanging off, and a stereo which exclusively played either static gibberish, or old tapes I had no idea how to use. This car was bright yellow, and definitely had an option to drive itself. When the car came to a stop, inches from careening into me, I lost all control of myself.
I was vaguely aware of my phone slipping from my fingers and hitting the sidewalk. But I was too busy staring at the two shadows in the front of the car. The driver, and the passenger.
And the muffled screaming coming from the trunk.
When the door swung open, a figure stepping out, I did not recognise my housemate.
The stranger told me I wouldn't, but I didn't believe him.
Jay had left the house in casual jeans and a sweater, bearing the game's logo.
Now, I found myself face to face with a man with my housemate's face and features, his smile and eyes-- but something had been severed in his eyes and twisted in his expression. For one, Jay was wearing a suit I knew he couldn't afford, the sleeves torn, collar pulled open, smears of red staining the front.
His pants had cufflinks, and the Rolex on his wrist had definitely been pulled off someone's corpse.
The silver was stained a revealing scarlet. Drinking in his face, he looked like Jay. His curls hung in front of his eyes, freckles speckling his cheeks, but everything else wasn't. It wasn't until I was glimpsing what was moulded into the flesh of his hand, did I remember how to move. But then I was taking all of him in, everything my mind had intentionally skipped, because I didn't want to believe the stranger on the phone. Nanotechnology, the man had said in a hiss.
Fiction, I had thought.
Before I saw the reality of it, a writhing metallic like substance glued to the guy's temple, and slowly, very slowly, inching down his cheek, already forming around the bridge of his ear, a very faint blue light flickering.
Something must have alerted him. His cavernous eyes left mine, and he twisted his head—and I heard the sound of his neck snapping, his head lolling to the left slightly, his eyes flickering. I watched his whole body seem to sway back and forth, ready to fall forwards.
Before the newly formed device on his ear turned red, then green.
It was almost like he was… rebooting. As if coming back to life, Jay lifted his head at an awkward angle, before looking straight through me. The blood vessels in his eyes had popped, rivulets of red beading down his face. He should have been dead, I thought. No. No, he was dead. That… that thing was keeping him alive. “Well, shiiiittt,” he said. I could sense the game dialogue which had taken over him, forming on his mangled tongue.
“I’m a man on a mission.”
In jerking movements, he turned and marched back towards the car, opening the door, and sliding into the front seat.
I remembered how to move, ducking to grab my phone, before something slammed into the back of my head—and I saw stars.
I didn’t remember hitting the floor, only the soft sound of her voice, a seductive murmur repeating NPC dialogue, and her kitten heel sticking into my spine, forcing me onto my face.
Misty. I was expecting her to get it over with. But when she dragged me to my feet, sticking the barrel of a gun into the flesh of my neck—I figured she was still playing the game.
Twisting around to meet her eyes, lifeless and empty, only filled with light from the device which had taken over half of her face, I felt sick to my stomach. This thing wasn’t a games console or a virtual reality headset.
It was an attempt at coercing and programming something you already don’t understand, to do something impossible.
I could see that in the way the things had visibly chewed and eaten through her flesh, devouring her from the inside and out. I could see what was left of the dress she had worn earlier, but something must have gone wrong with her too. Because Misty had thrown on another outfit over the top, a diamond necklace hanging from her neck.
I caught a thin river of red pooling down her right temple, trying to ignore the twitchy way she moved, just like a character. From the way Misty walked, stumbling, I already knew she was gone. My housemate had newly acquired strength, throwing me in the trunk of the car where three other hostages were, and slamming it shut on my attempts to reason with her. She didn’t tie me up or restrain me.
In the dim light I could just make out though passing streetlights, I could see the trunk opened from the inside. Which was too easy.
Still though, Jay was driving recklessly, and every time I tried to throw the damn thing open, I was knocked backwards, rolling into a screaming girl, who was bound by her hands and feet. It took me multiple attempts before I had the trunk open, freezing cold air blasting me in the face. I untied the other hostages, but when I told them to come with me, they just stared blankly at me, and continued begging for their lives—and it only took me glimpsing what was attached to their temples, a familiar writhing metal plate, for me to understand. They too were playing the game. This time, as NPC hostages.
I found myself gingerly touching the trembling metallic flesh of the girl's fingers bound in rope. It had a slimy consistency, and I swore, I felt something bite into me.
No way, I thought.
This thing was sentient, yes. But it wasn't living.
Listen, I wish I could tell you what it was like to jump out of a moving car, but I can’t.
I remember it as lunging out of the trunk, hitting the freezing cold air, before hitting the ground head first, neutron star collisions exploding in the backs of my eyes.
What I do remember is waking up on the side of the road. Hours later. The sky was bright blue, a scorching sun blinding me when I managed to force my eyes open.
The early morning rush hour flew by as normal, and I wondered how ignorant American people had to be to ignore someone knocked out on the side of the road.
It’s not like I was nowhere near civilization. There was a fucking Subway right next to me.
When I had gathered myself, I remembered I had no phone. I couldn’t go home in fear of running into my rogue housemates playing their own fucked up version of _____ in their head. My plan was to try and find my phone, get in contact with the stranger who blew the whistle on my friends being dangerous, and find them. They couldn’t be far., right? And even if they weren’t themselves… someone would be able to save them.
If someone could do this to them, surely they could reverse it.
I felt sick, tired, and I was starving.
So, with some loose cash I’d found in my pocket, I bought a Subway and a Coke.
The woman at the counter smiled widely at me. She leaned forward, with a wink. “Nice cosplay!”
Cosplay?
I didn’t understand what she meant until I swore I felt something… move its way up my pant leg. I ignored it, and it happened again, this time it felt like something was… biting.
A bug, maybe? I had been laying on the side of the road for around six hours.
When I went to the bathroom, though, I found myself staring at an all too familiar glint of silver creeping its way across my temple. Like it was sentient, parts of it sider webbed towards my ear while the rest writhed into my hairline.
I pulled up my pant leg again, and there it was, a fungus-like metal substance which had already formed in two solid metal masses on my knees. I remember grazing two fingers across the thing beginning its slow feast of my flesh. I remember trying to pull it off, hissing in pain when I risked ripping off my own skin with it. I remember shaking my head and being in denial, even when the lights dimmed above me, and the bathroom door in front of me became more of a shadow. When I strode back through the Subway store, I began to see slight flickers of light above each person, highlighting something not quite there yet.
I could see it already starting, beginning to take over my thoughts. Cars which sped past were suddenly highlighted, and at the corner of my eye, if I concentrated, the outline of a map was starting to appear. Even now, when the room is almost completely taken over by shadow, and my thoughts are half my own, and half not—when a metallic device is beginning to form over my eyes—I know if I hold on, this thing won’t take me. I have considered killing myself, but that wouldn’t… be right.
How could I kill myself when there is so much left to do?
This developer was right. I don’t even know where I can sign out. There’s what looks like the beginning of some kind of index when I look up, but it’s not… finished. I can still see entangled pieces of code struggling to load what I’m guessing was log out. Whatever this thing is, it’s taking over me. Fast. Like a fungus, like a virus, it will not stop until it’s dragged me into the game, until it's leeched itself onto me.
I can feel it happening right now. It's been slow.
Almost painfully slow.
But maybe that is the point. Maybe part of the game is to feel my own thoughts beginning to unravel in favor of something else entirely.
Fuck.
Time is going by…. Fast.
Five minutes ago… I was trying to get home. But I can’t remember where I live.
I can’t concentrate.
I can’t think straight.
I have a phone—but I don’t know how I got it. Did I steal it?
Every time I move, the slowly emerging map comes to life at the corner of my eye jerks with my movement. There is a car parked nearby.
I know it belongs to the man with a child.
But a confusing blur of light is highlighting it to be something of importance. Reality is crashing in front of me, replaced with contorting shapes and bursts of color I have to blink through.
I keep hearing... sirens.
Jay is messaging me.
On what, I'm not sure.
But I need to find him.
I’m sure one mission won’t hurt, right?

(btw im sorry if this sounds like petty bullshit ) i 16 F moved to the uk when i was 10 years old . one of the first people i met was a girl who i will call lucy. lucy has always treated me kinda wired like she used to talk to me as if i didn't know english ( i do and i know it better then she does) and she often makes kinda racist ( ig they are micro aggressions but i'm not sure how to word that) comments towards me. i don't really want to share what she has said but just know the comments ranged from micro aggressions to straight up telling me that I should go back to my own country and I don't belong in the uk.
over the past few years lucy has been making extremely backhanded compliments to me for example she once told me i was brave for wearing low rise jeans and she could literally never. or she will say how she thinks people who wear clips in there hair are ugly and how clips are not at all cute when she can clearly see that I have clips in my hair and then turn to me and say not on you though u rock them. she said much worse than this but I really don't have time to go into it. NOW I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE PETTY BULLSHIT BUT ITS ALL THE TIME.
she also has a bad habit of commenting on my appearance for example i was once telling her about some cute guy that i saw checking me out. she proceeded to say are u sure he was checking u out because he thought you were cute or because... you know... she then proceeded to give me the dirtiest look up and down. which i was absolutely gobsmacked about because although I'm not Angelina Jolie i would say that im pretty ok looking and i take pride in my appearance and often get complimented on my clothes,hair or the way i do my makeup.
my favourite colour is pink ( I promise this is import ) i love everything pink, like strawberry yoghurt pink and peonies pink >>>>, like pink schoolbag, I wear pink ribbons in my hair, all my school equipment is pink, i write and pink ink when given the opportunity to decorate school books I will wallpaper them pink. i love it. but i also don't wear a lot of pink im a metal head and therefore i wear a lot of black. anyway this girl turns to me one day and point blank states that i give her the ick because i like pink and wear black... and i should really just pick one cuz i cant have both and in general it's very off putting and she thinks it makes me ugly. like I might not allowed to be a complexed human being? we are literally study in Jekyll & Hyde at school like come on now.
anyway i'm getting sick of her treating me like shit i avoid her best I can but sometimes I can't help bumping into her. moral of the story is what should I say when someone gives me a backhanded compliment although I'm usually pretty good at sticking up for myself due to moving a predominantly white area in the UK as a black kid with a 'funny' accent. but whenever she opens her god damn moth and says some of the most back handed or racist ( maybe even both if i'm lucky) stuff i've ever heard i don't know what to say. the worst part of it is she think we are friends.

(btw im sorry if this sounds like petty bullshit ) i 16 F moved to the uk when i was 10 years old . one of the first people i met was a girl who i will call lucy. lucy has always treated me kinda wired like she used to talk to me as if i didn't know english ( i do and i know it better then she does) and she often makes kinda racist ( ig they are micro aggressions but i'm not sure how to word that) comments towards me. i don't really want to share what she has said but just know the comments ranged from micro aggressions to straight up telling me that I should go back to my own country and I don't belong in the uk.
over the past few years lucy has been making extremely backhanded compliments to me for example she once told me i was brave for wearing low rise jeans and she could literally never. or she will say how she thinks people who wear clips in there hair are ugly and how clips are not at all cute when she can clearly see that I have clips in my hair and then turn to me and say not on you though u rock them. she said much worse than this but I really don't have time to go into it. NOW I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE PETTY BULLSHIT BUT ITS ALL THE TIME.
she also has a bad habit of commenting on my appearance for example i was once telling her about some cute guy that i saw checking me out. she proceeded to say are u sure he was checking u out because he thought you were cute or because... you know... she then proceeded to give me the dirtiest look up and down. which i was absolutely gobsmacked about because although I'm not Angelina Jolie i would say that im pretty ok looking and i take pride in my appearance and often get complimented on my clothes,hair or the way i do my makeup.
my favourite colour is pink ( I promise this is import ) i love everything pink, like strawberry yoghurt pink and peonies pink >>>>, like pink schoolbag, I wear pink ribbons in my hair, all my school equipment is pink, i write and pink ink when given the opportunity to decorate school books I will wallpaper them pink. i love it. but i also don't wear a lot of pink im a metal head and therefore i wear a lot of black. anyway this girl turns to me one day and point blank states that i give her the ick because i like pink and wear black... and i should really just pick one cuz i cant have both and in general it's very off putting and she thinks it makes me ugly. like I might not allowed to be a complexed human being? we are literally study in Jekyll & Hyde at school like come on now.
anyway i'm getting sick of her treating me like shit i avoid her best I can but sometimes I can't help bumping into her. moral of the story is what should I say when someone gives me a backhanded compliment although I'm usually pretty good at sticking up for myself due to moving a predominantly white area in the UK as a black kid with a 'funny' accent. but whenever she opens her god damn moth and says some of the most back handed or racist ( maybe even both if i'm lucky) stuff i've ever heard i don't know what to say. the worst part of it is she think we are friends.

I'm really sorry if this isn't the right subreddit to talk about this. Please take it down if it isn't. I realise that the stories people have told here are so much more traumatic, and I feel mine isn't even close to comparable as I never was actually abused. I mainly wanted to mention this just to sort of... I guess get it out there and maybe... just maybe meet someone who experienced the same as me.
Back when I was around 15-16, I broke up with my ex and I was beyond heartbroken. I basically cried for days and wanted to find anyone who would give me even the tiniest bit of affection. Somehow though, and I know this was a beyond stupid idea... I decided to go onto Omegle to meet people. I met a guy who called himself Julian, saying he was from France and was a medical student. He was incredibly nice to me and often went out of his way to praise me and make me feel good. Kinda exactly what I was begging for after my breakup.
We eventually started dating, with it being a long distance relationship as I was from the UK. We spoke for a few months online, though sadly being young and so blinded by the affection he gave me, I never realised how manipulative he truly was. The things he would say seemed so innocent and caring to me, but they were full of attempts to guilt-trip me while at the same time throwing in constant praise about how amazing I was, how cute and gorgeous I was. He would say all this while occasionally mentioning how if it wasn't for me, he'd of killed himself by now. We had casual talks but this was basically constant for several months. I didn't think anything of it because I was so in love with him.
After a few months went by, we planned to meet up someday. He wanted to come to the UK and take me on a trip to London... just us two.. alone. As I type this, I remember that he even mentioned wanted to specifically rent a car so we could just be alone on the trip. Again, being so naïve and blinded I didn't realise how questionable this was when aside from a few random images, I had never actually seen his face on a video call. He always refused claiming it was due to being shy. All I had was a few random images of some guy he claimed to be.
Soon after, I told my parents as I wanted them to know about this guy I had been dating and that he was coming to visit. My mum was cautious but I'm not sure if she thought much of it. She asked to meet the guy first which Julian claimed he was fine with. I kinda thought that meant he wasn't a danger until I realised years later that child groomers will often happily meet parents. My mum did though tell my Dad who I never actually intended to tell because we didn't really see each other much. When I next stayed at his, him and my step mum asked a number of questions and eventually asked to see my chats with him. I wasn't okay with it but he claimed that he'd only be okay with this if he could see our chats. It wasn't soon after that he refused to give me my phone back as he basically noticed the red flags immediately. He went through a number of conversations that were just unnatural, being full of constant praise, guilt-tripping, and generally hugely one sided towards me just so he could make me feel good. He told me how no one talks like this but I didn't believe him and had a full on meltdown over it trying to convince him that he is a good guy. He eventually took my phone, my laptop, and basically blocked me from accessing the internet completely. I honestly cried and cried. I hated him at the time.
When I went back to my mums, I was still horribly upset and full on breaking down. I was so distressed by everything that I remember literally hitting my head against the car trying to hurt myself. When I got home, I had my main computer that I could use so I finally got back in contact with Julian after everything. Little did I know that my Dad was actually using my Laptop to spy on me and this conversation I was having with him. He told my mum who immediately came storming upstairs to tell me to get off the Internet completely.
After a few hours, things sort of calmed down. I can't remember how but I managed to contact Julian again without my dad knowing and I proceeded to ask a number of questions about who he actually was. I had actually found a Facebook account of a guy who went by a different name but had the exact same photos that Julian had sent me. He claimed they were a friend who gave him permission to use his photos, but yet whenever I asked for him to send me even one photo of the actual him, he just made up excuses. He really just wouldn't tell me who he was, instead choosing to come up with constant excuses while throwing in the occasional guilt-trip about how he'd kill himself if we broke up. Despite all this though, I was still blinded and loved him. I mentioned to him that once I grew up, we can be together and I couldn't wait for the day. The last message I ever got from him was: "I promise you .. i won't give up that easy .. i will always think about you and try to smile my pain away everytime i wake up.. i promise i will be seeing and knowing that you are happy.. i promise you that from now on i won't be ready to run". I believe that was actually before my dad found out about us talking again.
I've tried to speak to him again over the years but never got a response. The accounts he used to talk to me seem to have been inactive since that day, and I can't find anything about him. He's pretty much a ghost and I feel I'll never truly know who he was. All I can say though is that I feel if my parents didn't intervene, I wouldn't be here today to make this post. I don't know what he would have done to me, but I guess its best not to think about it. I honestly worry about the people who maybe weren't as fortunate as I was. It actually scares me to know how close I was to losing everything, and the idea that maybe some people actually did...
But yea, That's the story of how I was groomed. I'm 24 now so it was quite a long time ago, and honestly I don't even think much of it nowadays. I honestly kinda feel like I should though. I really just wish I knew who he actually was but I know I'll never find out. I mean, the guy was like... 25 years old so the fact he was wanting to date a 15-16 year old and was actively sexual with me should have been a red flag. I guess the lesson here aside from don't speak to strangers on Omegle, especially if they are way older then you, is to not let your emotions get the better of you. All I wanted was affection after a breakup and it nearly costed me my life.