#Convicing

[sheikfangirl]

Food is Link's love language ❤️🥹

Cheers!

[allurearia]

Are you ladies alright?

Where Mattheo certainty didn't expect you of all people to open the door.

Mattheo riddle x reader. Fluff!!

 It was a typical Friday evening at Hogwarts, Marking the end of a busy week for everyone. Mattheo, Theodore, and Lorenzo were lounging in the Slytherin common room, bored out of their minds.

“Alright, I’ve got an idea,” Mattheo said with a smirk.

“What are you scheming now? Mattheo” Theodore asked, already suspicious.

Mattheo chuckled, tossing a ball of paper  he had folded up after fucking up his notes in charms and spilling ink over it. “You know that Muggle TikTok thing? Where a guy stands in front of a girl’s door, knocks, and someone throws a ball just in time for him to catch it and be all suave? I say we do it.”

Lorenzo laughed, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Come on, you can’t tell me this won’t be fun. Besides, it’s not like we’ve got anything better to do.”

Theodore sighed but couldn’t hide his grin. “Alright, I’m in. Who’s the target?”

Mattheo’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s just start with Pansy’s dorm.”

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “You're sure about that?”

Mattheo just shrugged, unbothered. “What could go wrong?”

The three of them made their way to the girls' dormitory, carefully slipping past a prefect who knew better than to stop them at this point. They reached Pansy’s door, and Mattheo took his place in front of it. Theodore held the ball, and Lorenzo stood a little to the side, ready to jump in if the ball Theo throws suddenly changed paths.

Mattheo knocked on the door, face completely calm as if this was the most normal thing in the world. They could hear what they assumed to be Pansy’s footsteps approaching, the door creaking open just a crack.

But instead of Pansy, you stood there.

You had been hanging out in Pansy's dorm, just chatting and relaxing after the hectic week you all had, completely unaware of the chaos awaiting you on the other side of the door. The moment you appeared, everything froze.

Theo, ready to throw, panicked slightly spotting you first. His throw went way off course and slammed directly into Mattheo's chest instead of near his head where his hands were cupped to catch. Mattheo winced, muttering a low "bloody hell" under his breath as the ball rolled off his chest. He quickly scrambled to grab it, hoping to salvage the moment.

Despite the mishap, Mattheo was determined to play it cool. He turned around, ball in hand, and prepared to deliver the line but then he saw you.

His breath caught in his throat. Instead of Pansy’s usual sarcastic smirk or dismissive eye roll, he was greeted by your soft, curious expression. For a moment, Mattheo’s mind went blank. You stood there, looking effortlessly radiant in the dim hallway light, and all of his usual confidence seemed to fade away.

You blinked at him, clearly confused but amused. A small, awkward smile played on your lips, as if you were trying to figure out what exactly was going on but found the whole thing oddly funny.

Mattheo stared for a moment too long, the ball still clutched in his hand as he tried to remember what he was supposed to say. His heart pounded in his chest, not because of the ball that had just hit him, but because he wasn’t expecting you to be the one opening the door.

Finally, he managed to find his voice, but it wasn’t the smooth, cocky tone he was aiming for. “Uh… are you ladies alright?”

It came out awkwardly, almost like a question he wasn’t even sure of himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, biting your lip to hold back more giggles. Your reaction made the whole situation even more endearing, and Mattheo felt his cheeks heat up, though he'd never admit it.

After a brief moment of awkward silence, you gave him a warm, amused smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah… we’re alright,” you replied with a chuckle, not really knowing what else to say. You shot a final glance at the trio behind him and then gently closed the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, there was a beat of silence before Lorenzo and Theo erupted into laughter. Lorenzo clutched his stomach, practically howling. “Oh, Merlin Mattheo, you were speechless! Absolutely speechless!”

Theo wiped a fake tear from his eye, grinning wickedly. “You should’ve seen your face! All that attitude gone the moment you saw her. You looked like a lost puppy.”

Mattheo’s ears turned red as he glared at his two friends. “Shut up,” he muttered darkly, still gripping the ball in his hand as if it were Theo’s head he wanted to crush. “You’re the one who can’t throw for shit.”

“Oh, blame it on the throw, sure. But we all saw what really happened,” Theo teased, nudging Lorenzo. “Man gets taken down by a pretty girl. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Mattheo clenched his jaw, trying to shake off the flustered feeling creeping up his stoamch. “I’d worry about your Quidditch skills if I were you, Theo. Chaser with an arm like that? Surprised you haven’t been benched.”

Theo only laughed harder. “Mate, I don’t think Quidditch is the real problem here.”

Lorenzo, still grinning from ear to ear, slapped Mattheo on the back. “Hey, don’t worry, Riddle. It seems like you've finally met someone who knows how to make you shut the fuck up for once”  

Mattheo glowered at both of them, but deep down, his mind was still replaying the way you had smiled at him before closing the door.

Even if he’d never admit it out loud, he knew he was in trouble.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Pt - 2 "is the lady alright?"

[kinsey3furry300]

[beifong-brainrot]

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

sometimes when Darry gets frustrated when he's arguin' with other adults about Pony or Soda (i.e. he feels like a teachers bein' unreasonable or an adult lookin down on them) he'll snap leave my fuckin' kids alone, yeah?

[samtamdan]

[huggywuggysuppy]

Been obsessed with Crane Wives rn and it’s hard to find an honest Gempearl song bc so many CW songs are like “Ugh I wish I could forget about you, ugh its so hard to love you, I wish we weren’t hurting each other” meanwhile actual Gempearl are embarrassingly desperate for each others attention and actually want their yuri to be MORE toxic. “The Garden” is the best I have so far.

(Traffic Gem is “The Well” and specifically SimL Gempearl is “Shallow River”)

[hiseyebrowsaregone]

It's literally them. I cannot be convinced otherwise.

Ah how I love ship dynamics

[desire-for-madness]

Can someone send me some sources as to why Korea loves the "sacrificial separations" trope so much, that it shows itself in almost every single romantic storyline (rarely suiting the plot)? I've heard it is because of the history of familial seperation due to North Korea and South Korea, but it's been so long I feel there might be more to it.

Almost everytime it is unnecessary seperations due to lack of communication. It doesn't make the relationships stronger, it actually makes it more unstable if your partner keeps abandoning you at any sign of trouble.

I loved the show Hidden Love because it was the only show where the couple went through everything together. Why can't Korea also push this instead of the idea that you're not worth fighting for. "I'd rather be miserable, than fight for happiness with you"...

[pinklotushere]

Dick Grayson and Tim Drake are chronic fringe fixers, though they’d never say it outright. It’s not something they talk about, not in any meaningful way. It’s just… a thing they do. A habit. A reflex. Something wired into them so deeply that even in the middle of absolute chaos, their hands will still twitch toward their hair, smoothing, fixing, making sure it’s just right.

Maybe it started as vanity once, but it’s not that anymore. It’s something closer to control, to composure, to pretending they have a handle on things when everything else is slipping between their fingers.

Dick’s been doing it since he was a kid, since before he even had a reason for it.

When he was little, his mother used to fix his hair before every performance, brushing it back with a touch so gentle it never once felt like an obligation. “You’re already perfect, my little robin,” she’d say, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “but you should still look your best.” It had been a ritual, a moment of stillness before the leap, before the spotlights, before he took to the air and did what he was born to do.

And then, suddenly, they were gone, and there was no one left to smooth his hair or press kisses to his forehead.

Bruce had never done things like that. He’d never brushed Dick’s hair back or straightened his collar or fussed over his appearance the way a parent should.

But he had expectations. He was a Wayne now, or at least, he was supposed to be. And Waynes looked the part. Waynes were always polished, always presentable, always in control.

And so, without meaning to, Dick kept the habit. If he caught his reflection in a window, his fingers would move before he even realized it, brushing his bangs back into place, fixing anything that had shifted. And in the years since, it never really stopped. Whether it was in the middle of a mission, a fight, a conversation, it didn’t matter.

He still did it. Because Dick Grayson was supposed to be effortless, wasn’t he? The easygoing one, the charismatic one, the one who never let things get to him. He had to keep looking the part, even when grief still ached beneath his ribs, even when exhaustion weighed down his bones.

Tim’s touch is sharper, more deliberate, like it’s something done out of necessity rather than comfort. His parents had never been gentle about things like appearances.

It wasn’t about affection, about soft reassurances and easy praise—it was about image. It was about always being polished, always being the best, always making sure no one had reason to criticize.

His father in particular had been meticulous about it, about making sure Tim didn’t just perform well but looked like someone who performed well. A well-groomed son was a competent son. A put-together son. A son who wouldn’t embarrass the family name.

So, Tim learned. He learned to straighten his tie before anyone could tell him to. He learned to fix his hair without needing a mirror. He learned to be perfect in the way that was expected of him, in the way that didn’t leave room for mistakes. Even now, long after his parents are gone, after everything has changed, the habit lingers.

It’s instinct. Even when he’s running on fumes, running on too much coffee and not enough sleep, his hands will still move on their own, smoothing his bangs, making sure they don’t fall too far out of place. Maybe it’s muscle memory. Maybe it’s something closer to control, to making sure he can still hold himself together even when everything else is unraveling.

Dick notices it. Of course he does. And Tim notices it in him, too.

It’s not like they say anything. Not outright. Not in a way that matters. But sometimes, in the middle of a mission, in the reflection of a shop window, or in the mirror of a rundown safe house, their eyes will meet just as they’re fixing their hair, just as their hands twitch in unison. And for a moment, there’s something unspoken between them, something that neither of them will put into words.

Then the teasing starts.

“You’re obsessed with your hair, y’know that?” Dick will say with a smirk, arms crossed, watching as Tim smooths his bangs for the third time in a minute.

Tim will roll his eyes, barely looking up. “You’re one to talk.”

And that’s as much as they’ll say about it. The teasing, the lighthearted jabs, they’re easier than admitting what it really is. That it’s habit, that it’s instinct, that it’s something they do to feel like they’re still in control.

Because some things slip. Some things fall apart. Some things get taken away before they ever get the chance to hold onto them.

But this? This, at least, is something they can still fix.

(As someone with a fringe who’s always fixing it, I saw theirs and immediately thought, “Yeah, they definitely do that too.” And then… well, it kind of spiraled into an emotional overanalysis. Oops. + if it looks like that all the time without touch ups I'll riot)

[cameronhcwes]

ER (1994-2009) 8.16 — Secrets and Lies

[irn-bru]

i actually really like that the midnight entity works differently in this episode, it's had 400,000 years to reflect and evolve from its encounter with the tourists + doctor. it's progressed beyond copying, instead whispering to people to take hold of them. and when it failed to do that with a deaf host, it used the circumstances to manipulate the doctor into freeing aliss from it's hold (or did it?). it succeeded, it's free.

[deserthusbands]

obi-wan, observing the tooka batting at cody’s belt: cody, have you given any thought to naming our little friend?

cody: yes, sir.

obi-wan: and what did you decide on?

cody: cat.

obi-wan: cat?

cody, nodding: cat.

obi-wan, smiling: well, it’s certainly... straightforward, isn’t it?

cody: is it a bad name?

obi-wan: no, no, of course not, dear.

the cat, having lost interest in cody's belt, watching the two menacingly from atop cody's bucket he had claimed: 👁️👁️

obi-wan, kissing cody's cheek: it.. fits him well.

cody, with heart eyes: mmm, good. because he won't acknowledge anything else.

[hiphopcherrrypop]

yaoi so good the shonen dudebros want it to be endgame too

[touyboxes]

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY YOU THREE IM SO SORRY IM LATE have some more expression studies of the boys.

[constelationprize]

I think that the funniest glossed over revelation post-Baltimore is that Neil's British uncle was real. Like especially after Christmas Break there is no way any of the Foxes believed that. Of everything Neil said, "the only family I have left is an estranged uncle on my mother's side and none of you will meet him because he lives in England", is the most obvious lie and it's hilarious that it's the one with the most truth in it