#warning and correcting

[georgiasedify]

Admonish One Another

Admonish One Another. Book a session with Georgia's Edify! Please like, share, and subscribe thanks.

Admonish means, instructing with a view to changing behavior. It involves correcting people in a manner that does not alienate, but maintains rapport, keeping the door open for further guidance. To admonish means to warn, suggest, or counsel someone, usually with the intention of helping them grow spiritually and morally. Counseling and Advising: Offering guidance and advice to help others stay…

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still deep in the episode 7 brainrot. because OH BOY AM I

(also one more extremely, obnoxiously self-referential thing, I'm -- I'm so sorry)

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 1 - Ratiorine Messages Edition

[Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[just-more-pr0mts]

Danny has a knife that if u slash the air it opens a portal to the ghost zone.

But in his exhausted state, he slashes the knife in the air while babbling on about how he wishes there were easier ways to deal with his rouges. Accidentally causing his magical knife to slashes open a portal to a different dimension.

____________

The justice league were at a loss... there was a small floating kid who fell through a portal on their main table, who was currently screaming something about furries?

____________

Danny: .....

JL: .......

Danny: is that....a furrie?

JL: .....

Danny: ....Sam was right

[chamerionwrites]

Like this is personal and anecdotal and I do recognize that I am probably in the minority here (or if not, that people with a different experience are definitely way louder about it). But. Personally speaking, I am significantly more likely to be triggered (and WAY more likely to be badly triggered) by a story’s framing than by its content. And content warnings are themselves part of a story’s framing. Ironically, blackly hilariously, this actually means that an exhaustively tagged story which overlooks something is vastly more likely to do a number on me than a story labeled with some kind of extremely nonspecific Yeah Shit Gets Fucked Up Here tag.

Again, I recognize that this is personal and anecdotal and that I am likely in the minority. But I also don’t think this is in any way unique enough that it shouldn’t be something we consider when we talk about why people might go a less-is-more route with content warnings.

[umblrspectrum]

like half of a frame redraw

[thunderstomm]

The more I think about the finale of A New Wish, the more I can’t help but think it’s going to play out as a tragedy. That Dev & Hazel will be cemented as rivals, or their friendship will be a bittersweet “what could have been”.

Dev is a tragic character. He is a product of his environment, and he acts accordingly. And those actions will almost definitely have consequences. I can’t help but wonder “what if he loses Peri”?

Would really hammer in the fact that fairies and wishing cannot help every kid.

Magic hasn’t exactly been good for Dev, it’s been making him worse with every new piece of information he finds out. Dev makes a lot of empty wishes, chasing a fleeting feeling of happiness, because the only thing he really wants- his Dad’s love -is something he can’t wish for.

I think the finale is going to be Dev’s moment of “flying too close to the sun”, and we’ll see him fall. He’s offered a supporting figure, and it’s still not enough, because it’s not the one he wants.

And as a result, he loses everything. His fairy, and his friend. And even after all that, he’s still not got his father’s love.

(Regarding Hazel’s rule free wish- I feel like it’ll be used to save Fairy World in some regard.)

This is all theorising, and I could be proven wrong ! I would LOVE a happier ending for Dev, because I do think he deserves friends, and a support system. Perhaps they could explore that in a second season, if we end up getting this tragic route.

[weevmo]

Oh no another outfit - this time Wally's 'correction' wear!

I'm sure if they took a moment they both could understand where the other is coming from lmao. Let's just say, before they left, Frank was one of Home's biggest troublemakers; in that he goes 'off' not very often...but when he does it's explosive.

[redyrmes]

leo + some pepitos im so happy theyre back wahh

[anghraine]

I love that Elizabeth and Darcy are so ready to effectively tell each other they're full of shit. This happens a bunch of times, but I was re-reading their conversation at the Netherfield Ball and they're both kind of refreshingly Done.

[Darcy:] “Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?” [Elizabeth:] “Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet, for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.” [Darcy:] “Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?” “Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat of a proverb.” “This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” said he.

It's also pretty funny, because I suspect Darcy is thinking of this sort of thing in a later conversation at Rosings:

“You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me. But I will not be alarmed, though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.” “I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which, in fact, are not your own.”

[samofmine]

"Stop looking at me like that!" Sam says, high pitched and annoyed, but well, no. Dean very much can't stop looking at him like that.

(aka I couldn't stop thinking about this so here's a weecest with sam in a cropped top and the inner chaos it ensues on dean)

Like what, anyway? He just hopes he's not drooling.

Sam came home an hour ago. He insisted on going shopping for his own clothes, saying Dean never got his right size, the pants looked too baggy and the shirts too loose. Well, forgive him if he doesn't want Sam parading the shape of his body to everyone. He gets enough catcalls from creeps in gas stations and sideroad bars as it is.

But Dean can't really use that as an argument, so yes, go the fuck ahead and buy your own clothes if you're so self sufficient, he said, and oh how it bit him in the ass.

Sam's fashion preference happened to be a pair of ragged jeans, red converse sneakers, and a freaking cropped top. A white, loose cropped top, short enough he can see everything from under Sam's nipples to the curve of his hipbone, loose enough it reveals Sam's collarbones as he moves.

Sammy's stomach. The smooth, milky skin wrapping around his small waist. His hip bones. Hell, even his belly button. Dean feels dizzy.

It's not like Dean's never seen it before. He bathed the kid, changed his diapers, but it's all a distant memory now, since Sam's puberty hit and he started acting like such a girl, shy to even be in the same room as a shirtless Dean, and god forbid Dean ever needs to piss when he's in the shower, because he will be throwing a tantrum before he even gets to step inside the bathroom.

Whatever. It doesn't matter. It would take more than bitchy mood swings and annoying brattiness to make Sam any less endearing to Dean.

He's still his little brother. His baby. Dean's everything.

He's not saying he misses the closeness, the tangled limbs under bedsheets when it was too cold and lying too close together when they had to share a crappy motel fan during a heat wave. But now that all of that is in the past, he simply wasn't prepared to see so much of Sam.

He wants to put his hands on each side of his waist and see if they still fit perfectly.

He wants to brush his fingers under his belly button and see if he can still track the goosebumps running through his body by watching his skin from close enough.

He wants... He wants.

He won't do any of that, though, because he doesn't want to be yelled at and he definitely doesn't want to deal with a moody Sammy for the rest of the week.

So, he stares. Sam has to grant him at least that.

"Looks weird, I know it." Sam looks down, and Dean notices his hands are trying to cover his stomach. "Just stop staring. It's hot today."

Dean blinks. What. What?

"What?" He can't help it. "Why do you think I'm staring? D'you think I'm gonna make fun of you?"

"Well." Sam looks at him, all bitchy faced. "Why else?"

Dean wants to laugh. Or cry. This is ridiculous.

If I could take a picture of you like this and keep it next to my bed so it's the first thing I see everyday, I'd be doing it right now. Seriously. Just give me a camera.

Obviously he can't say any of that. So.

"Why don't you wear a skirt to complete the look?" He teases, but crap, that was not the right thing to say, not just because the image of Sam in a skirt crosses his mind and he feels faint from it, but because of Sam's pained expression as soon as he heard the words.

"You're a jerk." Sam says and lies down on his bed, his back to Dean. He pulls the covers on top of him as if he's trying to hide.

Dean moves before he can even rationalize it. "Sammy, c'mon." He says, sitting on the edge of Sam's bed. "I was joking."

"Leave me alone." He gets in response.

Dean takes a deep breath, tries to go through his mental Sammy manual to see if he has any way of fixing this.

Feels like nothing he can say or do will make any difference.

So, to hell with it.

"You look good." He says. If Sam's gonna be pissed at him anyway, let it be for his honesty instead of his bad jokes.

Sam tenses up under the blanket, Dean notices of course.

"You don't mean that." Sam's voice is smaller, vulnerable, tugging on Dean's heartstrings like nothing else does.

"Of course I..." He sighs in frustration. "Let me see you."

Sam turns to lie on his back just so he can look at Dean, confused. Well, at least he's looking at him.

Dean grabs the blanket and pulls it down.

"Stop! Give it back." Sam whines, pulling it back. He's so goddamn loud, for no reason.

Dean rolls his eyes and holds Sam's wrists to make him stop.

"Let me see you, Sammy." He says, in a way anyone else would think is an order, even their dad, but only Sam knows this is him pleading.

He lets go of Sam's wrists to put the blanket away. Sam lets him.

Dean takes a moment, takes in the sight.

Sam's hands are still shyly on top of his stomach, hiding it.

Dean swallows dry.

He slowly reaches and moves Sam's hand so he can touch him, fingers almost shaking from the excitement, and Sam's stomach clenches under his touch.

He looks up to meet Sam's eyes. He's looking at him, nervous and flushed and beautiful, and Dean wants to keep him to himself, wants to lock them inside this room and throw away the key or fucking swallow it, because no way in hell he's ever going to allow anyone else to see Sam like this.

"You look good." He repeats, not recognizing his own voice, it comes out strangled and pathetic and he has to take a deep breath.

"Thanks." Sam says softly, so damn soft, Dean doesn't think locking him in the room will be enough. He's gonna have to eat him.

He brushes his fingers lightly across Sam's stomach and he squirms, fucking squirms, laughing under him.

"Tickles." Sam whines.

And, well, if doing that will make Sammy lose the scowl, game on.

Dean starts to tickle his tummy, laughing along with Sam as he drinks in every movement.

"Stop!" Sam laughs, grabbing his hand.

The pause in their movements is too long and with their eyes locked Dean forgets to breathe.

"Well, do you believe me?" He says once he remembers, "Or should I say it again?"

"I believe you." Sam says, shyly.

"What was that? I didn't hear it." Dean leans down, closer to hear him better.

"Shut up, you heard me." Sam is still smiling.

"How come you're always avoiding me lately?" Maybe now is not the time to talk about this, he knows Sam's good mood is fragile and he shouldn't be tempting it, but. He has to know.

"I'm not. I just... Feel weird around you."

"Weird?" Dean asks, confused.

"I don't know. Shut up." Sam says, but he's still smiling, even though it's a more nervous smile. "Just... Weird. Like I always want more of it. Don't ask me to explain it, I just know I shouldn't feel this way. I just do, though."

Dean blinks at him, digesting.

"It's probably cause we spend most of the time in small rooms with not enough space even to have personal space."

Nerd, Dean thinks.

But such a cute fucking nerd. He has no idea what he's even talking about but at least Sam isn't tired of him or hates him. He just feels weird, and Dean can totally understand that.

"You're such a weirdo." He says, not holding back his smile. Sam laughs weakly and Dean feels high on it.

Maybe that's why he leans in and kisses his forehead.

He feels Sam freezing under him but it's been so long since he let him this close, so damn long, he can't stop.

He kisses the tip of his nose.

Sam holds his breath.

Dean kisses his chin.

"De?" Sam's voice is so small, Dean is going insane.

When he meets his eyes again he notices Sam isn't looking at him with confusion or annoyance like he expected.

He decides to push his luck.

"What? I can't kiss you, anymore, either?" He says, testing the waters. "When you were little you wouldn't go to sleep without a goodnight kiss from me, remember that?"

Sam groans in embarassment, but he's still smiling, cheeks tainted pink.

"I was a kid. 'M not a kid anymore."

"So I shouldn't kiss you then." Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Why would you even want to kiss me?" Sam says, not meeting his eyes.

Dean can't even register the question. Seriously.

"Have you looked at yourself?" He says. "How could I not?"

He travels his eyes down Sam's body, his stomach drawing his attention again.

He stares for a moment too long.

"You can." Sam says, almost a whisper.

Dean meets his eyes, not sure what he was talking about. Maybe he got distracted, sue him.

Sam notices and rolls his eyes.

"Kiss me, I mean." He explains shyly "Miss your goodnight kisses, too."

And Dean feels himself buzz with excitement, fingers going numb from wanting to reach and touch and hold and do everything at once.

He sighs in frustration and lets his head drop forward, resting his forehead against Sam's stomach.

"You'll be the death of me." He says against Sam's skin. He hopes it's a promise. Only death could free him from this longing. Maybe not even death.

And there they are. The goosebumps.

He smiles. He can't help but kiss him, right on top of his bellybuton. He takes his time, too, letting his lips brush against the skin, breathing in Sam's scent.

Sam is quiet but Dean can hear his breath getting heavier.

He continues.

He kisses every bit of skin he can reach, lips brushing across Sam's stomach from one kiss to the other, never wanting to break the contact.

"Feels weird." Sam lets out a choked sigh.

"Bad weird?" Dean asks, looking up at him.

"Just weird." Sam says. "Probably bad weird. But I like it."

Dean looks at him, words escaping him.

Sam smiles sweetly and cups his face with his hand.

"I like everything you make me feel, De. Even though I hate that I like it sometimes."

Dean leans back to get a better view of Sam's expression, wants to register it in his brain so he can remember it the next time Sam avoids him again.

"Same here, Sammy." He says, simply, because he has no idea how to put into words the relief he's feeling.

He looks at Sam's stomach, places his hands on each side of his waist. Rubs his thumb against his skin.

"Fits." He says, more to himself.

Sam's hand finds his face again, this time under his chin, making him look up.

They're really damn close to each other. Dean's eyes stop on Sam's lips.

Sam is leaning in. His hand move from his chin to hold Dean's shoulder, both hands, and he closes his eyes and he continues to lean in and Dean feels like everything is happening way too slowly but he could never rush this.

Sam kisses him. It's nothing but a peck, but it's enough to awake the monster that's been dorment inside Dean's soul all this time and he can't stop himself from pulling Sam towards him by the neck, to kiss him better, to kiss him harder, to feel his lips against his tongue.

Sam tries to follow Dean's rythm, letting out small whimpers that make Dean even more hungry.

He guides him so they both move on the bed and he sits him on his lap. Sam's arms immediately lock around his neck.

They kiss for so long Dean starts to feel lightheaded, but he still wants more, because it's Sammy, and Sammy is kissing him back and he wants everything Sam gives him and he almost wants more.

After too long but not even close to long enough Dean lies them down, but they continue to trade kisses until Sam falls asleep first, Dean's hands firm on his waist, keeping them close enough they share each breath. Dean decides this, right here, like this, is where they belong. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Saying that the gpda should go care about something important, as if they aren't - for the first time in DECADES - taking a definite stand against the sports governing body publicly for all to see, is something.

This goes beyond the jewellery, the underwear, or even the swearing. And their issue about being told not to wear jewellery and bring told what underwear is more about the fact that they were told by the media, rather than by the governing bodies themselves directly in a meeting where the drivers could share their perspectives.

They publicly called out the FIA President for his hypocrisy and for how he has spoken about the drivers both to their face and behind their backs.

Most importantly, they have publicly expressed their feelings about monetary fines, publicly stated that they have no idea what the FIA does with the money they receive from fining drivers, and called them out for it. There is zero transparency from the FIA in an issue we now know has been raised since at least 2021. What is the FIA hiding? Because there is no reason why the drivers should not be allowed to see where that money goes, or at least no legitimate reason.

[karmafl0wer]

[gifsbyari]

hey  tags!  by  clicking  on  the  source  link,  you  will  be  redirected  to  470  gifs  (  sized  268  x  151  )  of  honda  kyoya  in  animals.  he  was  born  in  1999  and  is  japanese,  so  please  keep  this  in  mind  when  making  your  muse.  a  like  or  reblog  would  be  greatly  appreciated.  please  do  not:  redistribute,  repost  (  whether  it  be  in  gif  hunts  or  anything  else  ).  don’t  use  any  of  my  gifs  if  you  rp  the  faces  as  real  people,  if  i  have  you  blocked/you  have  me  blocked,  if  you  write  taboo  topics,  play  the  fc  as  a  minor,  or  if  you  use  turkish,  latinx  or  asian  fcs  and  don’t  name  them  accordingly!  let’s  all  be  decent,  respectful  human  beings.  stay  hydrated  ♡

[salarymanwaka]

[sexhaver]

are people really trying to do a "general strike" of LITERALLY EVERYTHING with maybe one or two days of warning? come on guys this is just sad. Use Your Thinking Brains