WHAT DO YOU MEAN I GOT INTO THE IOWA ALL-STATE CHOIR.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT I’M GOING TO PERFORM WITH 599 OTHER BEST-OF-THE-BEST STUDENTS IN THE STATE?

LIKE ACTUALLY WHAT.

I’M SO FREAKING HYPE.

I ACTUALLY CRIED, LOWKEY-

NO I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M MAKING THE TEXT SMALLER AND AND SMALLER-

OH MY GOD THOUGH. I WORKED MY ASS OFF FOR THIS.

I’m back from camp :>
Not dead/ghosting yall i swear
I’ve just been super busy since then, so I haven’t had like any time to log on. :>

G U H.

( @your_search_history_scares_me )

All remaining personnel are to head to any escape pods or hunker in emergency shelters if necessary.

Facility Integrity: 78%
Crystal: Secure
External Pressure: 24%
Containment Status: Ragnarök

“Expendable” protocol in progress.

Containment Logs
13:26 Z-13 fakes anesthesia dosage, escapes transport
13:28 Z-13 kills a high-ranking officer, takes keycard
13:31 Z-13 starts unlocking containment cells as he passes
13:34 Full facility lockdown initiated and personnel evac begins
14:17 External soldiers are loaded onto submarines to secure Crystal (As of right now, we are here.)
14:46 Soldiers cannot reach Crystal without major losses, “Expendable” protocol initiated
20:05 First group of Expendable Prisoners arrive

Also this is a real person that Identifies as an ACTA or Age change to another.

It’s similar to RCTA, ECTA, or DCTA (Race change to another), (Ethnicity change to another) or (Disability change to another)

I honestly really hate the [x]CTA. It’s hard to put into words, but that is not something you can change. You cannot change your race. You cannot change your ethnicity. Those are literally genetic. You cannot change your age-you cannot undo what time has done to just change a number. You cannot change a disability-if you have one, you can’t just change it because you’re feeling ‘silly.’ That can be and is very offensive to those that have those disabilities. It’s frustrating, and honestly, I’m not sure how people can actually live with themselves like that. They should know that this kind of behavior is socially and kind of morally wrong. :/

What was it like to lose? All my life, I’ve been held to impossibly high standards that I’ve managed to reach. I’ve been scraping the bar, but I’ve reached the standard. I finally made people proud! I felt good for a while, but this proved that my maximum effort, the effort that exhausts me to no end, the effort that has been forced from me, the effort that takes such a heavy toll on my body, is someone’s minimum effort.
The feeling of dread that seeps back into my body is cold. I had known the warmth of happiness and love and care, but now I must go through the cycle of being compared to someone else. Insults, demeaning and derogatory comments make their way back into my life, dragging me down.
I’m fighting for my life in this sea of brutality, struggling to survive, desperately trying to stay afloat, while I watch them float effortlessly, like the perfect being they are. The water they swim in is so clean, and pure. Mine is tainted with blood, sweat, and salty tears. What was it like to lose? It was like normal. It was the norm for me. The only reason it hurts so much is I was doing so well. And then I went and ruined it.
But I must stand aside and accept my place, below them.

i dont know whether this is supposed to go under vent, advice, or if i should be asking for support because it’s kind of all three.

as some of you know, i was sexually assaulted on May 24th of this year. i made a post about it 4 days later on here and i hid it from my mom for a while because i was scared to tell her.
she found out last night through some of my messages (long story i don’t want to go into right now) and she asked me about it.
she thinks that therapy would be good for me, but i really dont want to. i’m scared to open up to a complete stranger about something that i already don’t like to talk about.
i usually ignore it, but she says thats bad for you.
i know it is, but im scared. i dont want to go to therapy.
i just want to fucking move on.

October 23rd, 2025–3:48 PM

I sit in the comfort of my own home, and I sit in my bed, my laptop well…in my lap, staring at this text box, not really sure how to say things and get them to sound how I want to sound.

To put it simply, I’m utterly terrified.

Six weeks of near constant preparation comes down to this.
37 hours (give or take) until the All-State Audition cuts are released.

Six weeks of near constant preparation comes down to the shortest seven minutes of my life.

I walk into this classroom and greet my judge.
I state my name and vocal part, and it’s showtime.

I cannot help but panic.
The smallest mistake can determine my fate.

I cannot help but panic.
The judges look for perfection in the smallest details.

I cannot help but panic.
Music is my life, and it all comes down to this–the shortest seven minutes of my life.

They do not see the preparation I have put into what I present to them, and they do not see the literal blood, sweat, and tears I put into it.

My whole music career boils down to approximately a total of twenty-eight minutes.

Seven minutes.
Four separate years.

Fourteen already spent.
Fourteen yet to come.

Yet I cannot help but panic.

As you look around the surrounding area, you realize just how much damage has been caused. Burning rubble of buildings, abandoned and not. Screams of far-off families, trying to find their loved ones. You see your fellow party members on the ground, dead, or nearly dead, bleeding out into the deep snow. Only you remain, on the brink of death, your energy slipping away, and you can feel your hands getting colder by the minute, with Morro in front of you, an amused smirk plastered on his face.

“Oh, you poor little dove… I was really hoping that you and your friends would have proven more of a challenge for me. Such a shame I was able to make them all drop like flies.”
Morro saunters closer to you, stopping just in front of you, looking down at you with that wolfish smirk, as you scramble back in the snow, leaving a trail of blood behind you as you go.

“Why did you go after them?! I’m the human he found to save the world! It’s me that you want!”
Morro chuckles sinisterly, the kind of laugh that would send a chill down your spine and make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Oh, little dove…I know that you’re the one I wa-”
“Then why?! Why them?! Why not just take me and kill me already?!”
“Because it causes you more pain, little dove. The more pain you experience…the more enjoyable it is for me.”

You keep scrambling back, desperate to be away from this man. No…this monster. He killed your friends…your ‘family’. It doesn’t really seem to matter how far you try to get from him, though…he’s gaining on you. You’re losing blood. Lots of it, and fast.

“You’re a real- bastard, you know that? A monster. You killed my friends! My family, just to make me hurt more?! Do you realize how fucked up that is?! How would you like it if you were in my shoes?!”
“That’s the difference between us, little dove–I wouldn’t be in your shoes. I am…so much more than a sad little adventurer who got told they could save the world…”

This is based around the D&D campaign me and my friend are running.

The fight is almost over…Morro…he’s on his last leg. He’s getting desperate. He can’t last much longer.
“Just give up, Morro. You know it’s almost your end.”
“Like I’ll surrender to you, little bird,” he rasped. He was exhausted.
“Hold him down.” Her voice was firm, with no room for argument. Upon hearing her command, the others do as she asked. His arms are restrained behind his back, the others on guard, in case he tries something stupid.
“Kaz. Your dagger.”
“Cass, I-”
“Now.”
“…” Kaz reluctantly handed over one of his daggers, Cass’s small smile turning into a wolfish grin as she approached Morro, now shaking in his human restraints.

“Hold him down, 'til the boy stops shaking, hold him down while I slit his throat… hold him down while I slowly break his pride, his trust, his faith and his bones! Cut him down into tiny pieces, throw him down in the great below! When people wonder where the man is, only the ocean and we will know!”

“WAIT! We- we can talk about this,” he basically started begging.
Cass stabbed his hand to the floor, watching him scream out in agony, ignoring the other’s nauseous and disgusted looks, her eyes gleaming with murderous intent.
“STOP! PLEASE!”
You didn’t stop when I begged you to leave my friends alone, so why would I stop?!"
“Cass, please,” Sebastian interjected.
“Silence, Sebastian. Your brother must learn his lesson for the pain and suffering he caused not only this realm, but for me as well.”
“Cass, Sebastian has a point.”
“Kaz…” Cass twisted the knife in Morro’s hand, causing him to cry out in agony again. “I almost lost you to this man…no…this…monster, and yet… you’re sympathizing for him?”
“Cass…”
“ENOUGH, Kaz! I will not take any more criticism from you. I’m doing what I must.”
Cass rips out the dagger from Morro’s hand, plunging it into the other one, giving it the same treatment, a cruel smile on her face. After mutilating his hands, she moves to his shoulders, stabbing them repeatedly.
“HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE HELPLESS?! HOW DOES IT FEEL TO KNOW PAIN?! ALL OF THE SUFFERING I’VE BEEN THROUGH-”
“Haven’t I suffered enough?! STOP!”
“YOU DIDN’T STOP WHEN I BEGGED YOU! TOLD ME TO CLOSE OFF MY HEART!”
“STO-”
Finally, Morro’s words are cut off by the ting of a blade, and his words are now replaced by raspy gurgles, and blood dripping down his throat.
“After…everything you’ve done…how will you sleep at night?”
“…Next to my boyfriend.”

Blake

Blake B O I-

Blake what the average white man says in his defense:

Zeera the Nightmare Jackal's 2nd account NOOOOOOOONONONONONONONONO-

Blake sybau you’re getting old and you know it

Blake two/three years, ho

Blake MENOPAUSE??? WHAT?!

Zeera the Nightmare Jackal's 2nd account NOOOOO

Hi guys.
It’s me.
Your favorite 17 y/o :>
fml i’m an adult next year-

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