Greetings! The name is Time Lizzy, or Time as my friends call me. They/Them pronouns. I love to try new things, draw, sing, dance, garden, and I do some witchcraft in my free time. I'm a Hetalia role playing partner if you guys are interested.
We will be celebrating Mystic Messenger’s two-year anniversary on the 9th of July, 2018, thanks to all your love and support!
For all users out there who have stuck by our RFA members no matter what, we the Cheritz Team have prepared a few surprises!
[Event #1] Two-year Anniversary : Game Access Event
*The image in completion will be revealed on July 9th (KST) as a title page for the game!
On July 9th, we are going to give out little presents to everyone to celebrate our two-year anniversary!
Access the game and get you rewards!
How to participate
:
access the game on July 9th
Period : July 9th, 2018 (KST)
Reward : Max Speed for 24 hours + a little surprise
(for every person who accesses)
[Event #2] Summer Special : Daily Challenge Event
How do you think the RFA members are spending their summer vacation?
At the end of July, when you access Mystic Messenger, different characters will share with you little episodes that happened during their summer vacation.
See for yourself who will be there to greet you!
How to participate
: Access Mystic Messenger for the Daily Challenge event during the event period
Period : July 31st – August 9th, 2018 (KST)
Prize : Small prizes everyday (once every day, for every person who accesses) + Perhaps a special present for those who access the game every single day…?
[Event #3] Summer SNS Event : Mystic Messenger in Swimwear
What kind of swimwear do you think will best suit the Mystic Messenger characters?
Format and quality don’t matter! It’s OK as long as you draw characters from Mystic Messenger in swimwear!
I’ve had a small rough patch with people here at work. Which is to be expected.
Then I hear from my blog wife @the-wild-ego that she has been receiving hate anon messages, from the same person, every day, for the past four days?
I. DON’T. FUCKING. THINK. SO.
I can’t say shit about the people here at work, but I will NOT tolerate this bullshit.
The very first one Hannah shows me “Coward.”
Uh, excuse me, YOU ARE CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT YOURSELF. BECAUSE BEING ON ANON, IS THE MOST COWARDLY WAY TO SPEW HATRED ON SOMEONE. If you have the nerve to send her hate mail every single day, SAY IT FACE TO FACE YOU BULLYING, PIECE OF SHIT, HUMAN.
All the ones after that, made me laugh. “Calls herself a writer, but is shit at it.” “Calls herself a writer but is a bitch.” “Calls herself a writer but hasn’t posted requests in so long.”
You know what this tells me? You yourself consider yourself a writer, but you have no confidence in it. So you asked her to do a request for you. When she didn’t do it in a desired amount of time, your petty ass decided to harass her.
Grow. The. Fuck. Up.
No one likes haters, no one cares what they say, they care about the people that the hate is directed at.
I sincerely hope, that I never find out who it is.
Not because I’ll send you hate mail. But because I will let others know what you’ve done. Then let’s see what happens to your follower count, and let’s see what the people you consider to be your friends think about you.
If you’re part of the JSE/Markiplier or Youtuber community, then you have done them the greatest disrespect. BECAUSE THEY HAVE EXPRESSED NOTHING BUT LOVE AND APPRECIATION FOR EVERYONE. IF YOU CAN’T TAKE IN A SIMPLE MESSAGE LIKE THAT, THEN STAY OUT OF OUR COMMUNITIES.
I think Jenna has said everything that needs to be said. But seriously, whenever this person finally stops being a coward and comes forth, I’d like to see how much they like it when we all do something.
the only thing i knew about sex at the age of nine was that
1) it was for mommies and daddies who were married;
2) it made me, my five year old sister, and my baby brother.
i learned everything i knew about sex from the internet while secretly browsing grownup sites on my 4th generation ipod touch i earned for doing so well at a piano recital. because of the nature of, you know, men and their internet porn, i learned that my sexual role as a woman was to be slapped and pissed on and tied up. i didn’t know what healthy sex was. i didn’t know it should be mutually consensual, or that it was okay to want sex with girls. i didn’t know that sex should be good for both people. i learned that sex would hurt, and that sex was about men and men only, and that i would be forced into sex whether i liked it or not, and that it was normal to have sex with big, burly, grown men as a teenager. i learned it was normal to cry during sex. i was scared of sex for so many years because of that, and the way i was exposed to sex at a young age led to the inappropriate and traumatic sexual encounters i had (occasionally with older people) later on in my teen years.
the day i got my first period, i was ten-and-a-half. i was swimming in the river with my best friend, and when i got out to go to the bathroom, i noticed brown blood on the inside of my mint-green tankini bottom. i knew what a period was, but i hid it from my mother in shame. she found out, eventually, of course. she told me, you have a woman’s body now, and if you have sex, you could have a baby. all i heard was, you have a woman’s body.
i started shaving my vulva when i was eleven, because i saw memes on memegenerator about how disgusting “hairy pussy” was. i wanted to be sexy. i was eleven years old, and all i wanted was to be sexy. it hurt, and it itched, and it made me uncomfortable, and i’d sometimes nick my labia with the razor, but i did it anyway, because i didn’t want to have a nasty, “hairy pussy.”
eleven was the age i first started getting pinched on the EL. i was an early bloomer: i had B-cup breasts already, and my menstrual cycle was regular enough that i could keep a calendar. i started wearing a full face of makeup to school and buying shorts that rode all the way up my skinny twelve-year-old thighs. i remember the day i stopped jumping off the swings the summer after fifth grade. skinned knees weren’t sexy. smooth, flawless legs were sexy, and i was a sexy girl. i was probably the sexiest little girl in the whole world. my parents hated it. they told me i was too young, but i knew the truth. my body was older, maybe 17 or 18, so my brain must be, too.
when i was twelve, i had a secret kik account that my parents didn’t know about. i used it to message strangers. i made all sorts of friends. i wasn’t stupid. i used a fake name. never showed my face. one of my friends asked me for a bra picture. i was a cool girl, right, i was sexy, so i sent him a picture of me in front of my bedroom mirror in my little white training bra with the blue butterflies.
sexy, he said.
that was all i wanted.
i’m not typing out all this bullshit because i think it’s something special. i’m typing it out because it’s not. i’m typing it out because i see the same thing happening to my little sister. i’m typing it out because i see the same thing happening to that little millie bobbie brown, sexiest actress at thirteen. i’m typing it out because i’m sixteen years old now, a girl in the eyes of the law and a woman in the eyes of men.
mothers, talk to your daughters. tell them to jump off the swingset and skin their knees. tell them to get dirt on their dresses. tell them that they’re a woman on their 18th birthday, not at ten-and-a-half on the first day of their menstrual cycle. the world is confused. the world is sick. if your daughters don’t hear about how to treat their bodies from you, they’ll hear it from the sick, sick world, and they’ll do the things i did.
let girls be girls.
don’t force womanhood on little girls.
i encourage men to reblog this post
honestly, apart from some of the talk that i know certain sides won’t be appreciative of, this is still a very valid viewpoint
it’s thundering and lightning out rn and now all i’m thinking abt is logan and roman chilling in the commons while a storm rages on outside, both just talking about anything and everything and they’re both so soft and gentle and just talking as it thunders and rain hits against the windows. no arguments, no debates over why x-thing is better than y-thing, just sitting and watching the rain and talking about whatever comes to their mind.
Think Things 