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.
Turns out earth is actually a nature reserve where only 30 nonhumans are allowed to explore for a year at time while disguised, accidentally you’ve just stumbled into their monthly meeting.
He stood ten feet taller than I, and had a devilish smile on his face. The end was just beyond this monstrosity of a man, and the journey beforehand was nothing compared to this. With a sigh of frustration, I let out four words: “Fuck this, I’m out”
When artists/authors die they continue their works in the afterlife. Heaven and hell compete periodically by hosting an award show. This time, you hosting, announce the new ‘works from life’ but at googelplexes of sequels.
Your name is Sandra and you happen to be the most beautiful being in the universe. Everyone thinks you live an easy life but you are targeted by dozens of hitman every day; the ruler of the universe is madly in love with you but not everyone wants to see the two of you together.
I have a very vivid memory of sitting in a first grade classroom (first grade was my first actual classroom because my mom homeschooled me for kindergarten) thinking “I am literally going to die, I can’t live one more minute without reading a story, but I’ve already gotten my book confiscated for peeking at it during class and I have no backup book and I’m going to die” and then thinking in a burst of divine inspiration “WHAT IF I TELL MYSELF A STORY INSIDE MY HEAD. THEY CAN’T TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME. PHYSICALLY THEY CANNOT.”
