#practical living
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WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? (HOW TO LIVE RESPONSIBLY.) When you say something to someone, what happens next? - How are they likely to react?
When you do something to/for someone, what happens next? - How are they likely to react?
When you order something online, what happens next? - What kind of business are you buying from? - Are the employees treated fairly? - Are the products made ethically? - Are the products shipped in an environmentally responsible manner?
When you buy clothes, what happens next? - How often will you wear the item? - How will it be disposed of?
When you buy food, what happens next? - Have you bought too much? - How will the excess be disposed of?
Be mindful, be kind!
#mindfulness#practical living#kindness#forethought#environmentalism#awareness#consumerism#social commentary
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EVERYONE NEEDS TO LOOK AT HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON UNTRAINABLE THE STAGE PLAY RN
#looks better than the live action#practical effects are better than cgi most of the time yall#puppets>#animatronics>#httyd#how to train your dragon#how to train your dragon Beijing#how to train your dragon untrainable#how to train your dragon stage play#how to train your dragon play#these practical effects are GOOD AF wayyy better than the live action yall#it’s free on YouTube!!#the title is: [4K] Untrainable - How to Train a Dragon STAGE SHOW - Universal Studios Beijing - FULL SHOW#but if you search how to train your dragon untrainable or how to train your dragon stage play Beijing it’ll probs come up#highly advise watching it just cus it’s so pretty even if you don’t know mandarin I myself don’t but it’s jsut so pretty#Btw it’s still playing in Beijing and will be coming to the httyd park in Florida in 2025!!
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Sometimes...
Taking a leap forward means...
Leaving a few things behind.
#I'm practically paying rent in episode 7#My heart is breaking#In another AU Jinx and Ekko live happily in a home with their daughter Isha AAAAAHHH#I SEE HALLUCINATIONS#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane s2#arcane act 3#arcane spoilers#league of legends#ekko#arcane ekko#ekko arcane#powder#arcane powder#powder arcane#ekko x jinx#ekko x powder#jinx x ekko#powder x ekko#timebomb#animation#netflix#fruity-blogs
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Christ Matters
While the phrase "Christ Matters" is succinct, its depth extends far beyond a mere catchphrase on a t-shirt. It encapsulates the essence of a belief system that has shaped civilizations, transformed lives, and continues to resonate profoundly today.
While the phrase “Christ Matters” is succinct, its depth extends far beyond a mere catchphrase on a t-shirt. It encapsulates the essence of a belief system that has shaped civilizations, transformed lives, and continues to resonate profoundly today. Faith in Jesus Christ matters immensely because His teachings, principles, and the eternal message of love and compassion have reverberated through…
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#Black LIves Matter#BLM#Christ Matters#christian purpose#Family Matters#Holy Spirit#Jesus Christ Matters#Jesus Matters#Practical Living
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I like to think combat training for these two became more complicated as they got older, if you know what I mean
I colored the last one first and then lowered my standards. give it up for 10yo ambrosius and his glaringly yellow shirt
#also I realized while drawing this that I’ve been making his hair longer than it is in the movie#oh well#nimona#nimona 2023#nimona movie#ballister boldheart#ambrosius goldenloin#ballister x ambrosius#goldenheart#finley cannot draw#I learned that I do not draw children very often#it’s FINEEEEE#anyway. I live for content of the boys in their institute era. mutual pining. sappiness. never being able to tell anyone.#increasingly charged sparring practice#YOU GET IT
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Practical By Necessity
I got an eye-roll of a comment from my boss when I talked with my team about saving up for a new gaming computer. I don't think he meant it the way it sounded to me, but it's been stuck in my mind for a week now and I've decided to write a rebuttal.
The other day, as my team at work was eating our traditional holiday Qdoba lunch, our boss asked was what we were planning to get ourselves for Christmas (at 32, I’m the youngest person in the group, so this is mostly adults with grown children or older adults without children with two other exceptions beside myself). We bandied back and forth a bit, talking about upgrades to home theater…
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#Brown Bag Lunch#Financial Struggles#Musing#Practical Living#Practicality#Rent Is Too Damn High#Sensible Living#Student Loans
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can't get much better
pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k
You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.
Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.
You have.
"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.
"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.
"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.
You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.
"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"
"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.
You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.
His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.
Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.
"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.
"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"
"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.
Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day.
Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.
"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."
"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.
"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."
The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.
It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.
He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.
"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.
"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.
You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.
He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.
"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.
Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.
"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb.
"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.
"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"
"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved.
This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.
"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.
"Yes," but that's not what he wants.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, daddy."
"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.
He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.
The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.
He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.
It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.
"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.
"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.
A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.
You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.
The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.
He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.
He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.
"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."
You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.
"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.
Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk.
There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.
Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.
"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."
The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.
Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.
"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”
It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.
"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.
"What's that, sweet girl?"
"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.
"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.
"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."
"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.
<3
#or> local citygirl listens to too much adrianne lenker and imagines simon getting you pregnant and living on a farm <3#he's definitely ooc i have a hard time writing men#BUT this is writing practice so whateva#cod x reader#cod mw2#task force 141#141 x reader#drgnfly writes#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#im so bad at ending things lol#mdni#18+ mdni#simon riley cod#reader x simon riley#idk#hehe#i found the images on pinterest btw
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“ayyy itz da wind waykah!” 💨🌊
#I went through the wind waker manga again#so good#I live a sad life knowing I will never be as funny as the writers of the wind waker manga#but anyways I wanted to use this expressive bean as practice#I wanted to practice expressions n line confidence#i likey this brush a lot too#toon link ilyyy#the legend of zelda#legend of zelda#tloz#loz#wind waker#phantom hourglass#link#toon link#aryll#tetra#linebeck#medli#king of red lions#ganondorf#wind waker link#zelda#artists on tumblr#art#my art
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"right, one more attempt, and then i think we're gonna have to call it the end of the session."
mumbo died on his last attempt. right before grian would have ended the session. right before grian could have saved him.
"but i just don't want to kill jimmy..."
he could have taken the shot then and there. he could have lived.
but the miner didn't want to kill the canary. he wanted the canary to live. and he died for it. because miners aren't meant to go into the coal mines alone.
#wild life smp spoilers#wild life smp#traffic smp spoilers#wlsmp spoilers#traffic life#grumbo#mumbo jumbo#grian minecraft#wild life mumbo#trafficblr#traffic series#traffic smp#life series#//#mumbo literally lived in a cave underneath jimmy's base. he went to the coalmine without the canary. and so he died.#fun fact! did you know miners used to get attached to the canaries in mines?#enough they couldn't bare the thought of them dying? that they tried to save them by putting them in glass boxes?#one of the reasons the practice of using canaries was stopped was because they switched to electronic gas detectors.#reminds me of a certain mustached man associated with electronics!
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
Plain-text version:
Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
#hlep#original#mental health#my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it#i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support#and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of#huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the#longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel#i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop
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OPLA sketches
I love Luffy a normal amount
#one piece#one piece live action#opla spoilers#luffy#monkey d. luffy#my art#trying to merge Luffy's original design with Iñaki#also it shows that I drew Luffy way more than Usopp before lmao I'm not satisfied with the way I draw Usopp yet#I need practice#ALSO the “I already like you” scene was so funny to me#he's so cute#one piece fanart
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DP x DC Prompt #16
When Hal had asked him which town he protected, Danny was more than happy to tell him, "Amity Park!" When Hal asked Danny where it was, Danny hadn't thought the response, "At this moment? Or where it was last week?" would've caused such chaos in the meeting.
Danny knew not everyone's town traveled across the country, but he didn't think it was odd enough to warrant this kind of reaction.
#finemeal prompt#dp x dc#danny fenton#justice league#hal jordon#amity park#amity park moves around#ya know how a lot of people put amity park in different states?#this is my “in universe” reason for it#like amity park just moves from city to city#just living its best life#one day you go to bed in Minnesota#and wake up in California#just another day in the life of Amity Parkers#they're used to it#don't ask me how this works practically#it just works#trust me
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The Return of the Living Dead — 1985, dir. Dan O’Bannon
#the return of the living dead#horror#horroredit#userhorroredits#filmedit#userhorrorgifs#filmgifs#doyouevenfilm#fyeahmovies#moviegifs#cinemapix#dailyflicks#horror*#body horror#trotld*#practical effects my beloved#mine*
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aaaand now we’re doing Pangur’s solensia shot, and Belphie’s monthly bloodwork for the FIP study!
#pangur#Belphie#I’ve practically been living at the vet this year#Pangur needs a shot every month for her arthritis so I’ll always have to come monthly#but hopefully it can be no more frequent than that from now on 💀
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"escape plan: Fly Outta There" is so chill and cool and normal in theory
#my art#dc#kon el#superboy#conner kent#thad thawne#thaddeus thawne#inertia#konthad#in practice it just triggers a fight-or-flustered response#dont mind me ill be continuing to captain the unrequited konthad ship#wherein thad is down horrendous#and kon lives his best life while occasionally encouraging thad to get up
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