phoenixryzing

[phoenixryzing]

Can attest to the sinus one as someone with chronic sinus headaches.

So I was taught a lesson in how to get rid of a migraine in 30 seconds and omfg listen my migraines don’t go away ever but I was shown what part of my body to touch and like???????????????

It’s witchcraft????????? Like I would be burned at the stake if I lived in ye olde days knowing that information?????

What the fuck??????

[phoenixryzing]

Dude I ain't even a rocks person but this is cool

Here is a song about my rock collection! It is a tune you probably recognize. Lyrics under the cut!

Permit me to parade my petrological anthology Collected in my quest for comprehensive mineralogy. Their shininess is second to their science and lithology. This song’s about my rock collection! Man, I love geology.

Oh, amethyst is purple ‘cause of iron, isn’t that real neat? And citrine is just amethyst plus lots of geothermal heat. And smoky quartz is brown from radiation and aluminum… Inclusions such as chlorite, rutile, goethite can bloom in ‘em!

(Inclusions such as chlorite, rutile, goethite can bloom in ‘em!) (Inclusions such as chlorite, rutile, goethite can bloom in ‘em!) (Inclusions such as chlorite, rutile, goethite can bloom in bloom in ‘em!)

Oh, sapphire and ruby, well, they’re both corundum chemically And emerald, aquamarine, and morganite are beryl. See, Historically each color had a different etymology And now they’re in my rock collection! Man, I love geology.

(Historically each color had a different etymology) (And now they’re in my rock collection! Man, I love geology.)

My fluorite is a favorite when it’s glowing under UV light. But should it be from Rogerley it changes when the sun is bright. And if you like fluorescence, put this fact inside your cranium: Chalcedony glows green because of ions of uranium!

When making porcelain vases, you need kyanite that’s powdered fine And celestine’s in fireworks and toothpaste such as Sensodyne. There’s mica in your drywall, and the litterbox has zeolites… Your bones and teeth and kidney stones are all hydroxylapatites!

(Your bones and teeth and kidney stones are all hydroxylapatite!) (Your bones and teeth and kidney stones are all hydroxylapatite!) (Your bones and teeth and kidney stones are all hydroxyl-apple-apa-tite!)

When dating strata layers ammonites can be real helpful guys. The sutures in their shell can tell how long ago they fossilized! And artifacts obsidian track trade in archeology. Those ancient folks had rock collections, man I love geology!

(And artifacts obsidian track trade in archeology.) (Those ancient folks had rock collections, man I love geology!)

Oh, did you know that peridot, as super hot peridotite Makes up the planet’s mantle and is also found in meteorites? Which make lechatelierite when it’s sandy soil that they strike. Another form of that is made by lightning, that’s called fulgurite!

Well, garnet makes the best dodecahedrons that you’ve ever seen. Prismatic crystals with three sides are quite unique to tourmaline. A certain mine in Spain produces pyrite that is cubical… Lepidolite can be botryoidal, but that’s quite unusual.

(Lepidolite can be botryoidal, but that’s quite unusual!) (Lepidolite can be botryoidal, but that’s quite unusual!) (Lepidolite can be botryoidal, but that’s quite unusu-usu-al!)

My knowledge of earth sciences is only as an amateur. But hounding and collecting rocks ain’t only for a connoisseur. And for my love of minerals I’m making no apology. Cause rocks are fun for everyone and man, I love geology!

(And for my love of minerals I’m making no apology.) (Cause rocks are fun for everyone and man, I love geology!)

[phoenixryzing]

I still love this

Fresh probably failed to answer Geno’s texts and calls. Again. IDK.

Fresh and Error belong to @loverofpiggies

Decans belongs to @little-noko

MommaCQ and WorldView belong to @alainaprana

[phoenixryzing]

I say this if you geninunely don't know, pro-ship usually go to excuse people to things with problematic ships like minor x adult, incest, nsfw of underage characters. Those kind of things that really shouldn't be acceptable.

I want non of that "excuse" bullshit, I simply do not care what people ship. If it's something I find unacceptable I just block said person and go about my day.

And guess what ? Sometimes problematic ship/stories is cathartic for people who have been on the abused side of things and I ain't going to judge someone for their preference in porn.

As long as it doesn't concern real people. I. Do. Not. Give. A. Shit.

Because guess what, they're fictional. And this is the internet, where there's a rule 34 of everything.

#hard agree #as someone who is the victim of csa #sometimes really messed up art can help process the trauma #as long as no real people are harmed #well no real people are harmed

[phoenixryzing]

It's a terrible world, one without negative emotions.

People think negativity is bad, the same way they think the dark is scary, or death is not inevitable. It is something to fix, to make go away.

They do not know the horror of no 'negative' emotion.

For what is anger, but a desire to correct injustice? Sadness, but a plea for empathy and an expression of things gone wrong? Fear, but a way of keeping us alive? Too much darkness will kill the soul, but too much light will blind man to the value of life.

With no negative emotion--no fear or sadness or anger or jealousy or envy--the world became a carefree place.

Not a care when a child runs into traffic and is smashed under a truck's tires.

Not a care when a once-faithful husband has his thirtieth kid from a different, never-to-be-seen-again woman.

Not a care when a nuclear power plant fails, and spills radioactivity into the surrounding town.

Not a care for death, at all.

For what is death, when one cannot mourn it? What is death, when we cannot rage against the heavens for it? What is death, with no ability to feel fear of it?

Death is just a dream unending, and really, why not choose it?

I have seen hell, and it is a pretty place, full of smiling people who know not the meaning of life, the value of joy, the price of happiness. I have seen a world in the span of a decade turn into a a wasteland where few still live, and those who do are blind to the coming apocalypse.

I fight. It was chance, that day, not taking the pill. But when the drug's effect fully wore off, I saw in horror a child drown in the sea, no one there to notice, or care. The horror snapped me from the dream--and I refuse to be blinded again.

We need darkness, as much as light. A balance of the two, to keep things sane. And when the dust settles and all that's left are us few Deniers, well.

Humanity is always carried on by those who know how to find meaning in every sorrow.

Year 2025. A new drug was recently discovered that makes you unable to feel negative emotions for a few days without any drawbacks to your health. It’s easy to produce and costs like a pack of gum. Everyone takes it. But you absolutely don’t want to.

[phoenixryzing]

"You big stinky monster! You're going down!" the lad shouted, his absurd cape almost tangling as he leapt forward.

Doctor Evil let the lad hit him, faking that it bowled the much larger man over. "Argh! Curses!" he cried, the voice modulator on his helmet making his voice nasally and appropriately campy.

The boy smashed a fist into his helmet, making the villain's head ring. No matter. He could endure a few blows from a ten-year-old, and he made cries like he was getting seriously hurt.

"Bluebird, stop!" his ally, a female shapeshifter, cried. "He's been beaten!"

Doctor Evil mentally nodded. Good, good. A beaten foe shouldn't be brutalized--that was bad heroing.

Bluebird gritted his teeth and stopping hitting, though he stayed on the villain's chest. "He needs to be stopped Wondera! We can't let him get away with this!"

'This' in question was the robbery of a near-empty bank. The tellers had all fled, sans one who cowered in the corner. Doctor Evil had clocked the damage on everyone--nothing the cities healers couldn't fix. He'd pay the costs, of course.

For Doctor Evil was not a villain. He was a trainer--a way of letting young heroes learn the ropes against an opponent that wouldn't smear them across the wall, like many, including himself, could.

"Let the police handle it!" Wondera cried. "We can't kill him!"

"Neh heh heh, kill me? Oh, you call me evil!" he taunted. "Go on boy, do it! Let me see you try!"

It was a silly taunt, one that an adult would roll their eyes at. But the supervillains an adult would face would have much, much better taunts and offers. Better to learn to equate 'villain speech' with 'stupid' now, not later.

He had a moment of curiosity as Bluebird hesitated, then sighed in relief when the boy turned his face and muttered, "You aren't worth it."

"Good boy," he said in his head, but out-loud he said, "And just what will you do with me, neh?"

"Wondera, can you turn into rope?" Bluebird asked. She nodded, and did so. "Imma tie him up!"

Doctor Evil hesitated--he couldn't burst the bonds without hurting the girl, and as a supervillain he had to get away. The police had enough work without helping him stage a fake prison break. So, as Bluebird got off him to roll him over, he did a jump forward.

"Neh heh heh, not so fast!" he cried. "I must--"

An alert came in on his helmet. Danger. Grade S alert. All heroes in area respond.

The kids, of course, couldn't hear him, and as the news fed through his hidden headphones, he ran around and dodged them in a silly way. But inwardly he was sweating. As a trainer, he had to make sure they didn't go after this--they were grade C at best, not nearly experienced enough. But he also couldn't just not respond--he only got alerts when he was absolutely needed.

An idea popped in his head. From his cartoony utility belt he pulled a small container, and threw it on the ground. A smoke cloud filled the area, and the heroes coughed weakly, before falling asleep.

Doctor Evil's helmet filtered out the chemicals, and he quickly tied up the kids with rope that was both soft and incredibly strong--only a special knife would cut it, and that mean either police or another hero could do it. That would keep them out of the action for now.

He also secured the civilian, just in case. Then, he placed a monitor discreetly in the building, and sprinted outside.

It took about two seconds to identify the issue: an alien invasion. More worrying, he didn't see any other heroes in the area. The city was small, but not that small, there was a few. Then he remembered: it was a conference. Ah. Perfect invasion time.

Rubbing his helmet, he activated the jets on his boots--silly but functional--and flew up, towards the swarm of spaceships that darkened the sky, and fiddled with his suit's power limiter.

Most of his tween and pre-teen students assumed his power was super-intellect. Leaving aside the broad and non-accurate nature of the term, it wasn't. They thought it was because he always used gadgets, had a fancy mechanical suit, and never used anything flashy that he must be a genius. He teen trainees accurate guessed that he had an inventor on-call--though 'evil scientist' was inaccurate, as she was neither evil nor a scientist, but an engineer. But even they didn't have a clue what his ability was.

The suit shivered, and the nanomachines that made it up shifted from rigid to lax, from a metal to a silk. The colors changed from the blacks and reds befitting a villain to the golds and whites of his hero identity: Flare.

As he exited the atmosphere, where the aliens were setting up, he let the power within him well up. His suit wasn't there to aid him.

It was there to stop him.

Energy gathered at his fingertips, white-hot plasma ready to shoot out. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and then let force a nuclear burst of white-hot energy that would have been catastrophic within the atmosphere. The ships were not prepared, and a third of them were blown away in the single blast.

Opening his eyes, Flare shot beams of plasma from his hands, hitting ship after ship. The power flowed through him, from a well so deep he wondered how he could contain it at times. See, his power was simple: energy absorption.

The kids and teens who looked up Doctor Evil's record would find lots of destruction in his early days and more reversible crimes later. There was a reason for that. As a child, he couldn't contain the energy he absorbed from kinetic force, heat, hell even sunlight; and would explode, nuking an area.

The league found him, terrified and on the run, and offered to help. They made his suit, which allowed him to re-direct the energy within him and thus release it before the danger point.

But his name was tarnished, so the League made a plan, and an offer: be a superkid trainer, as 'Doctor Evil', and they'd wipe the slate clean of the petty crimes he'd done to survive.

He only used Flare when necessary. And as ship after ship exploded, so were cut to pieces, the rest tried to attack. Any laser fire only fueled him, fed him, and Flare mused that if he really wanted to, he could be an excellent supervillain.

The last of the ships finally exploded, and Flare, running a little low on air, descended to Earth. He took a huge breath once in atmosphere, feeling exhausted--though that tiredness faded from the heat of re-entry. Which was good, because he still had kids to care for.

Landing back down in front of the bank, he quickly checked the empty streets, before shifting his suit back to Doctor Evil. Checking his clock, he saw not five minutes had passed--good, the kids would be waking up.

Walking in, he rehearsed the lesson he'd give, the lines he would say, the role he would play. Yes, he could be a real supervillain. But what would be the fun in that?

Doctor Evil is a campy Saturday morning supervillain and usually defeated by pre-teen heroes. Lesson included. He also once took down an entire alien armada by himself because they were ruining his fight with one of his pre-teen foes

#doctor evil #writing prompts #supervillain #superhero #flare #trainer #alien #short story

[phoenixryzing]

“People don’t understand the word ruthless. They think it means ‘mean.’ It’s not about being mean. It’s about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It’s about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it.”

—

Marco, Animorphs #30:

The Reunion

, pg. 71 (by K.A. Applegate)

By the way, READ THIS SERIES.

(via lilyvonpseudonym)

[phoenixryzing]

Also, talk seriously with your older adult in your life about aging and ask those embarrassing questions. Both of yall are too old to not ask the dumb questions.

Facts about your body after you turn 25, AKA things I wish someone had told me:

you will get hair in fun new places. this is normal and fine.

these places include (but are not limited to) if you don't already have them: your asscrack, your back, your ears, and moles. it's fine.

some of you, dick or not, will also lose hair. this is normal, but also if you have ovaries maybe get this checked out for PCOS.

your acne will probably change. some people get better. some people get worse. it's fine.

your nails will probably get an infection or a fungus at least once in your life. this is fine. (but also let your doc know).

how you gain and lose fat and where you do so will change. this is fine.

how you smell will change. this is fine. (fishy or rotten smells mean doctor time though)

if you have a prostate: it gets harder to pee. prostates enlarge as you age (get this checked regularly). this is fine.

if you do not have a prostate: it gets easier to pee but not in a good way. as in as you get older, your pelvic floor muscles tend to lose some of their strength. this makes it harder to keep pee in. this is fine.

all breasts and pectorals eventually sag, with the rest of your body. this is fine.

a decent percent of the population will experience a cyst at least once. some of you will make up for the rest with multiple. this is fine, but keep them checked out by a doctor. (sometimes this is a condition! get checked for that too!)

almost half of everyone gets hemorrhoids. it's a good idea to just expect them since your chances of getting them get higher the older you are. your toilet will look like a murder scene. definitely get your booty checked out BUT this is almost always perfectly normal. just eat more fiber. "but I already-" eat more fiber. and maybe suck it up and buy some hemorrhoid cream, you'll thank me later.

yes, this means you will probably need to make an appointment for a doctor to see your butthole. it's okay. not only do they really not care but 1. they've seen weirder that day and 2. they'd far rather you see them now than later when it's been going on for forty years and now it might be colon cancer. it's okay. consider it a rite of passage.

adults need more sleep than children. don't believe the myth that you need less than they do. that is capitalist propaganda to make you give up more of your life to the work grind, comrade.

vitamins and medicine, something you are more likely to take as you get older, sometimes make the toilet turn weird colors. it's okay.

if you still have your tonsils and get those little stones and get sore throats more than once a year you should plan on getting those suckers out before the tonsils cause an infection and go septic. if you're getting stones at all you should get those reevaluated every year, especially if the stones are bigger than a needlehead (or get bigger over time). it's gross and yucky. I don't care. get them looked at before you end up in the hospital.

you'll probably need to add foot support to your shoes if you don't already do. this is fine.

your body changes. sometimes it can feel sorta weird and upsetting that it isn't what it used to be. that is okay, and it is okay to be upset. just know that this is normal, it's normal to be upset or not upset, but don't let it hinder your quality of life. trans or cis, there is a certain level of acceptance you just gotta give your body and forgive your body for as you get older. it's okay.

it's okay. I promise.

[phoenixryzing]

Unnnfoortunately I am Lazy and still have years worth of archiving to do, sorry. However! To help! Here's what I could find on Alaina's blog:

This is the info I have archived so far on pixilization--keep in mind its only through chapter one so far.

This tag deals with the crashes in particular.

If you need more details I'd look through this, but it is all the Error posts (error chrono and kid!error chrono respectively)

Hope this helps?

I dunno if this has been asked before but...what's the best way to explain errors crash and reboots? Temporary Pass outs? Seizures? I dunno! It's been bugging me for a while like a LONG while

I've talked about it alot alot back when MCQ was still being posted but its most LIKE a seizure tho still not really. I think @phoenixryzing has a MCQ archive blog for stuff like this? Correct me if I'm wrong dear but I thought that might've been a thing XD Since my blog is a -broken

[phoenixryzing]

My mildly unhinged MLP x The Legend of Spyro crossover

[phoenixryzing]

I’m gonna say something….. controversial

[phoenixryzing]

:/

[phoenixryzing]

:/

[phoenixryzing]

It wasn't as though this was impossible on Ethyril, rather, very odd.

No god predated the planet, none claimed its creation or the creation of the universe or the like. Rather, the gods of the magic-cored planet were aspects of human willpower and magic given form. This was a well-known fact.

It was also a well-known fact that each god had a domain, a field of magic they maintained and oversaw. Gods were little more than cosmic businessmen, though gardener was more apt: they grew the power in their followers, tended the weeds of chaos from bad magicians, and generally made sure the world didn't blow up.

Therefore, their worship--an act that re-affirms their existence in the mind of mortals and keeps them alive--was both vital and very practical and common.

The god explained all this while their coffee grew cold. The shimmering, humanoid-shaped garden had no mouth to speak of, but Alica noticed the 'flowers' on it seem to move their petals when they spoke. She narrowed her eyes. A good bit of illusion magic, she thought.

"Ms. Fairfield," the god--Eden, they were known, after a mythical garden in the Age of Myths--said in a beleaguered tone, "You must understand. Us gods are very real, and your disbelief only hinders our work. For such a famed--and powerful--magician like yourself to decry us--"

"How long did it take you to make that outfit?" Alice asked. "Months? Years? I bet if I got Charon in here, he could dispel it. The Paladin Order does not take kindly to lies, and as our best Light Mage, he easily could."

The garden seemed unperturbed. "Then ask for him. I have nothing to hide."

Alica glared again, but picked up a small crystal, tapped it thrice, and asked the operator for Charon. She explained the situation tersely. "We have someone claiming diety-hood here, come show them up will you?"

She heard a heavy sigh on the other end, and Charon grumbled an agreement.

While they waited, Alica stood and got herself more coffee. The paladin was dressed in her day attire, rough-spun white cotton kept immaculately clean, a mirror of the cottage. A small, hard bed stood in one corner, a little kitchen in another, a study in another. The table Eden sat at was in the middle of the well-kept dirt floor, and was clean of anything but the pewter cups.

Eden appreciated a good dirt floor, not easy to keep looking nice, and reached some roots down. While Alica was busy with the fire-elemented stove, they discreetly poured the coffee onto the ground, their roots absorbing the liquid without a trace. They hummed. "A good brew," they said, vines brightening a bit. "You have an eye for coffee plants. This feels. . . oh, a bean originally from Eros. Far away from here," they commented, as Alica came back with a steaming cup.

"You did your research," Alica edged, sitting down. She sipped her own cup, and glanced at Eden. "Yes, in the capital a merchant keeps some plants. Its an extravagance to buy the beans, but I save by roasting the beans myself. As I'm sure you knew," she said scathingly.

Eden chuckled. "You are a fine fire mage as well as life one. I assume you learned the art to better your purification spells? They are top-notch from my observation."

Flushing a little, the woman said, "But of course. A good Paladin has one of three sub-fields: fire for wound cleansing, water for wound stitching, and light for long life. Everyone knows that," she said, jutting out her chin.

Chuckling again, Eden said, "Yet the Order has the role of Light wrong. Light is a field of energy, one that promotes growth and stimulation. What Life magic infused with Light does is actually regenerate the body, curing the effects of aging. Aging is but another illness, child," it said, though in a rather grandmotherly tone, "One necessary for the continuation of the Cycle, but an illness none the less. The body, as time passed, develops micro-wounds in its very makeup, errors that come to look like sagging skin or cloudy eyes. These errors can be healed like any other, if one were to focus on the very mechanics of growth itself--hence, a strong light augmentation heals the effects of aging," Eden explained.

Alica listened despite herself. Some of this was known, but she had never had it explained quite so well. She shifted unconsciously to that of a dutiful student, and started, "If so, how--"

However, a knock on the door interrupted them. Alica excused herself, then got up and let Charon in. The tall, espresso-skinned man entered, clad similarly in rough-spun white robes. He had an irritated look on its face, but it dropped when he saw Eden.

"Lord Eden!" he cried, falling immediately into full prostate. "Forgive me! If I had known, I would have worn my cerimonal robes--"

Eden stood, or rather lengthened, and reached a vine down to Charon. "Rise, my child. There is no need. While I appreciate the effort, I need no ornate ceremony from my worshippers." Their tone was warm, as though speaking with a favorite son, and Charon flushed furiously.

He rose, brushing a bit of dirt off his robes, and saying in a small voice, "I apologize for my lack of recent prayer. I worried that, with--"

Eden waved a vine. "No worries my son," she said, and he looked up, bright-eyed. "Though in a garden one grows as one is planted, humans will ever make their own way. I hold no grudge for it."

Charon stammered a thanks, while Alica slowly closed the door. She was conflicted. Eden seemed quite genuine, but--

"Eden," she finally barked, "If you and the gods are real, why this war with the Elemental Forces? Why not control your men!"

Charon looked at her sharply, then his shoulders sagged. "I must confess, even I wonder that," he said. "We fight every day for our survival, while the gods. . . "

". . . cannot do a thing," Eden said. Alica glared, but Eden continued, "We are made of willpower made form via magic. Do you think we control humanity, much less all the creatures of magic of old? Indeed, only via bodily force could we do anything, and then only one creature at a time. Humans, yes, we could deprive of magic. Creatures of magic, however. . . " they trailed of.

"As beings of raw magic, you'd have to starve them entirely, yes?" Charon asked, and Eden nodded.

"I do not agree with doing that. Lord of Life and all that," they said with a weak chuckle. "We ask. We plead. We bargain. The creatures of Life have agreed to stay in their Plane with their role in the Cycle, and that is the most I can do. I know Anubis has a similar agreement with the beings of Death, but the other gods. . . " they sighed, a sound like the wind through the trees.

A silence passed. Alica sighed, and walked over to the stove. "Charon, would you like some coffee? Lord Eden, some more?"

They agreed, Eden humming happily before settling down for a long talk. They needed to do coffee more often!

“God can come have coffee with me if he’s really interested.” You said, shutting the door on some irritating guys with pamphlets. The very next day, God taps lightly on your door, to have a coffee.

#ethylin #fantasy world #eden #god of life #writing prompts #short fiction #my fiction #my world #my work #life #paladin #trans character #worldbuilding

[phoenixryzing]

Same experience, my mother read to me so often I could read fluently by the time I was four (earliest memory of it), a full year before I went to any kind of school. Keep in mind, I'm also dyslexic as fuck so that is a double accomplishment.

my dad and I just finished listening to a fascinating (and really pretty alarming) podcast about American literacy education recently—Sold a Story by Emily Hanford—and it got me wondering what my peers’ experience was, so here's my first poll! This pertains to people who learned to read in the U.S. specifically, so even if one of the other options matches your experience, I'd politely ask you to refrain from picking one (presumably you guys have better school districts than we do anyway). 

(the most horrifying part out of the entire thing was the fact that dubbya was the one to realize something was wrong. even a broken clock, I guess...?)

[phoenixryzing]

My therapist has a verbal version of this that entails him repeating back what I said, or something to the next degree of what I said, in the most condescending, sarcastic tone he can muster just so I hear how dumb it sounds. I glare at him every time and he just has this shit eating grin.

I love him so much.

i saw this post earlier about therapists and it reminded me of my old therapist paul, who in my opinion is one of the greatest men alive and who did not put up with my bullshit for even one second

anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk

and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something

paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.

i say, paul.

is that a nerf gun.

yeah, says paul.

i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.

he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?

and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–

a foam dart hits me in the leg.

i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.

i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.

no dart this time. okay. sweet.

so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it 

anyway i leave his office and the lady having the next appointment walks in and i hear what’s all over the floor? and paul very seriously says cognitive behavioral therapy tools.

[phoenixryzing]

My baby looks so pretty!

It's been a while since I got a full illustration, this was actually a pretty nice change of pace compared to usual.

Art(c) @little-noko Character(c) @phoenixryzing