#if it’s meant to be it’ll be

[romatique]

hi lina! i sent jes a message ab a day ago and it's all ab astrology. if u have time and it doesn't bother u, i hope u could give ur two cents ab it ^^

my bestfriend for 14 years, know nothing about ATEEZ [ i just found out that she won an ATZ album to a "BTS ALBUM GIVEAWAY" so she's not completely unaware of them ] recently gave me her birth time and out of curiosity, I put it up with my bias' (hwa) chart and in my interpretation, if these two meet— idk... IM A FAN

8h mars overlay

1h mars overlay

7h vertex

11h moon overlay

6h moon overlay

virgo-juno conjunction

juno-juno conjunction

asc-sun conjunction

moon-sun conjunction

mars-moon conjunction

mars trine moon

mercury trine venus (both ways)

mars trine venus

*attached below is a pic of their composite chart*

these r the placements that i feel are very strong and important to relationships. but idk, i could just be reaching and maybe im just a delusional bestfriend and fan but im not even kidding when i say she *almost* always match the seonghwa ideal type and fs readings VERY WELL that it almost always creep me out and even question my sanity bc it was just so random (somehow).

so yeah, that's basically it. im actually not so very much deep into astrology YET. i already asked her ab her thoughts on this, and she just said "everything will workout if it's meant to be" then followed it up with "or baka masyado ka lang oa sa interpretation, baka kapag nagkita kame niyan pumikit pa siya heheh POGI-POGI NIYAN" implying that she doesn't think it's impossible for them to cross paths but also doesn't believe that there would be something, that he's too good- looking, and that I AM JUST REACHING LMAO

I HOPE I DIDNT BORE U BC OF THAT LONG ASS MESSAGE LMAO. this is me asking for ur 2 cents btw lol i just want to know if i am interpreting things properly or... im just reaching.

THANK U IN ADVANCE, LINA!

hello sweetheart! you didn’t bore me at all~ i absolutely adore jes and i’m happy she sent you to me.

i know a lot of people have that “delusional” concept in their heads. i’m ngl, i’m lowkey like that too, i try to stand on a realistic ground, especially for readings. but i do believe that, in some way, celebrities could end up with potential fans aswell.

someone (i don’t quite remember who rn, i’ll make sure to check after i post this) posted once that bangchan’s fs is also a fan, for example. that happens more often than we could ever imagine. some celebrities even prefer it that way (let’s say they like the attention, not in a negative way, they just like being cared for)

in astrology, not everything’s perfect, of course. so even if their charts don’t match perfectly, that’s still a good sign. if you never bleed, you never grow and etc. it’s important to have a few negative sides to every relationship, as long as it’s not abusive! cause if not, how will we know what works and what doesn’t?

so, i read your whole message and the chart you sent as well. and i LOVE the earth energy right here. stable, grounded, and there’s also an open-minded side to the relationship with the gemini mars in the 10th house. could mean a foreigner, someone who’s into literature, or has an academic life, opposite to seonghwa’s which makes sense since he’s a cancer moon conjunct rising. he NEEDS that, haha.

i’d say: you’re completely fine on having your own opinions on it! she seems like she has her own life to handle so i believe that this won’t get in her way. as she said, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

don’t worry, you’re definitely not crazy haha. i was like this with my boyfriend before we started dating. but i just wanna let you know to not live like your life depends on it, just let it be~~ who knows? maybe someday their paths could cross, maybe not. let’s wait and see 🫶🏻

thanks for the ask again, love 🥹💞

[zenmasterloverextra]

I’m giggling and kicking my feet. Both him and I just recently matured enough to start realizing how much we love each other and to stop playing silly games with each other’s heads. Also 444 angel numbers. He’s truly the Hyde to my Jackie

[stuckinapril]

I just wanna be consumed with something profound tbh like I think it’s so beautiful to be obsessing over a skill and for it to be what you do and live and breathe for a couple months I literally want that

[panthermouthh]

And I said, “Hello, Satan

I believe it’s time to go.”

[skhardwarevers1]

if this post gets like…5000 notes I’ll actually start writing scripts/making storyboards for videos I’ve had ideas about for months

additionally if this gets to 10000 (which I highly doubt it will) I’ll actually work on my abandoned stories, book ideas, and poetry

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[chandralia]

goodnight barbies ! definitely not thinking about chapter 400 and the anticipation of Bakugo returning only to be inevitably disappointed week after week for the past year with constant anxiety surrounding the potential of him being in the vestige realm and Deku suppressing his emotions regarding black whip and only ever being told to control his heart when Bakugo is involved !

[rickybaby]

Interesting tidbits on the ‘Alpha Tauri’ team going forward from this article xx

Red Bull has refused an offer for sale of close to a billion dollars for the team.

The newly-restructured board has also decided to limit the influence that both Christian Horner and Helmut Marko can exercise on both the technical and sporting side of the team (rip King of England shit Christian tried to pull. You were brighter and sexier than the whole sky) with the aim of attracting more investment into the team

The 2024 car will have the front pull-rod suspension of the RB19. The car will have a slightly lower front center of gravity and a more “cledge” shape in the lower front section. The aerodynamics in the front part will therefore, inevitably, have a 'more Red Bull' philosophy (think a more pointy car, think Baku 2017 triple overtake possibilities)

[m1d-45]

i gobbled and devoured the post imposter things. scrumptious!! but what if poor little xiao man feels guilty for hunting or scarring us in the hunt? and please don’t feel obligated to answer, i know you’re busy

burden to bear

word count: 2.7k

-> warnings: spoilers for liyue archon quest, canon typical violence…. minor body horror? blood mention.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist >

during the hunt itself, xiao is driven by a need to prove himself, pushing past his instinct and the way his karma flares around the one on the throne. he sees it as a way to redeem himself, to finally scrape some of the sin off his hands. it’s a way to prove himself, and one he takes eagerly.

it’s not correct to say he’s blinded by faith, but it’s not exactly wrong either. he definitely feels, subconsciously, that something’s… off, maybe, about his god. perhaps it’s the way his vision always seems to flutter and flare, or the ice in his veins when the command to hunt is given. he feels uneasy, unsettled, finding himself rolling his shoulders and wondering if he needed to add more stretches into his routines. and yet, despite the tension in his shoulders and the twist in his stomach, he kneels, bowing his head with a swear of fealty that goes unanswered.

unacknowledged.

perhaps he had delivered it wrong?

he doesn’t think much of it, quickly dissolving from the throne room and appearing besides the statue of the seven on the west edge of liyue. looking out over jueyun karst, he knows it’s a bit fruitless to start his search there due to the vicinity to the other adepti, but the spires there are tall, filled with wiry bushes and crags of rock that are easier to hide in than may seem at first glance.

he draws his pole arm, spinning it once over his hand before tapping the end to the stone beneath him. he’s not sure why he’s so nervous—is it the fact that this is technically the first order he’s been given? is it the idea of slaughtering somebody so identical to his creator that it nearly fooled morax, who’s been alive longer than he could fathom?

or is it simply the prospect of failure?

xiao grits his teeth and steps off the edge of the floating stone, halting his fall with anemo at nearly the last possible moment.

his feelings meant nothing. orders were given, and he had to follow them.

why else was he there, if he couldn’t?

it takes him longer than he expected to find you. he’s almost impressed, really, that you managed to evade his searching eyes, that you dodged not only him but the other adepti as well, all without taking refuge in any villages or otherwise civilized areas due to the orders the millelith put out. you hid well, he could attest to that, and though he was the one to find you, it was only on accident.

he was clearing out a group of hilichurls north of the inn. he was surprised so many had settled so close to the statue of the seven, as hilichurls usually avoided concentrated elemental energy, but didn’t think too hard about it. he simply unhooked his mask from his belt, noticing the difference in strength between these hilichurls and the average, and teleported into the middle of the camp.

the first thing he heard was a spotter’s cry. the second was the mitachurls’—archons, there were three—roar as they hefted their weapons. the final one was the intricate chanting of the abyss, but not any incantation he recognized.

he kept himself half in smoke as he danced around the edge of the camp, taking out the archers while he tried to find the abyss mage. he could catch glimpses of hydro bubbles through the walls of the hut, but the steps were covered in frost-

he barely ducked under the swing of a mitachurl’s axe, slashing his spear along its side as he slipped away, darting across the path of one charging with a large stone shield. it clipped his shoulder despite his efforts, pain spiking down his arm, but he didn’t pay attention to the injurh. normally he wouldn’t be this distracted, but two abyss mages and three mitachurls in one camp could only spell bad news. the best he could likely do was to leave and grab back-up, but who? the millelith were busy, morax and the adepti were on their own search…

xiao quickly climbed onto the roof of the hut, jamming his spear between two of the logs to keep grip on the woven roofing. the grass was damp, squishing uber this feet, likely from whatever hydro magic the mage was busy with within it. it likely wasn’t the smartest idea to stand on the roof, but this area of liyue was mostly plains, with little cover from the charging mitachurls. he needed a moment, if only a short one, to hash out a plan to deal with the camp.

the three mitachurls were standing besides the hut, two with shields and one with a crackling axe, electro dancing along the blade. xiao shifted, pivoting around the peak of the hut to move away from that one, the grass roof squishing below his feet.

the mitachurl’s ear twitched.

he shoved himself off the roof just as the mitachurl slammed the flat of its blade onto the roof, the whole shack shaking. electricity swarmed across the waterlogged roofing, reaching the opposite edge just as xiao dropped off it, landing between the other two mitachurls. they didn’t charge, nor attack, their motivations only made clear when the hiss of cryo froze out the lingering moisture in the air in front of him, effectively boxing him in.

the abyss mage swayed in its circle, staff glowing a sharp blue from within its bubble of frost.

“leave, adeptus,” it hissed, waving its staff in a circle. “you have no place here.”

xiao didn’t reply, instead picking apart his options. he couldn’t do significant damage to the shield mitachurls without utilizing his burst to destroy their shields, but that didn’t cover the mage at all… and he was still wet from the roof, so the mage would be able to freeze him within the time he had drawn in enough anemo energy to wield his mask with any level of efficiency…

he flexed his hand around his polearm. how had he gotten into this situation? his only options were to get lucky or teleport away, but even the latter of those relied on the first.

luck. how useless was he, to rely on luck-?

“‘adeptus’?”

the abyss mage startled at the voice, the cryo it had been swirling dissipating. both he and it turned to the side, to the entrance to the hut, where a figure could be seen just beyond the mitachurl.

his first instinct was that it was his god, and he briefly relaxed under the knowledge that he’d get out of this in mostly one piece.

his second was to recognize the torn clothing and dirt-smeared skin, and realize that you could never be his god.

xiao’s eyes narrowed, his spear twisting towards you faster than the distracted mage could react. you, his target, the one he had been seeking out, were hiding behind the abyss. he should have expected it, in truth, figured out the one known for going against the rules of nature would side with the most unnatural force, but that was not for now.

not now, when he was launched forward by the power of anemo, his spear driving him forward, barely skimming the mitachurl in favor of his true target: you.

your eyes barely had the chance to dart in his direction.

xiao was, in truth, not the first one to see you.

many villagers had glimpsed you running around the outskirts of their villages, plucking apples and sunsettias off trees and taking mint from their gardens and leaving bundles of sweet flowers behind instead. they’d seen you, face half-covered in a poor mask made of scraps, your clothes that of the haphazard stitches of the hilichurls, which helped you blend into teyvat a bit more at the price of comfort. many had seen you and assumed you were a run of the mill thief, perhaps one taking advantage of the current hunt since the millelith were occupied. they wryly called you clever, warning the traveling merchants about you, the one they glimpsed at inane hours of night.

he wasn’t the first to see you, by far. he was, however, the first to recognize you.

he was the first to lay eyes upon your form and realize the truth, to realize that the blood seeping into your clothes was the color of stars and galaxies, to recognize that your heart beat blue.

the argument could be made that the hilichurls were the first, or perhaps the mages that had taken you in and brought you food, but it was not them that gathered you into their arms and whisked you away in a flash of teal, uncaring of the spike of cryo that drove into their side at the last minute. the hilichurls did not walk with frosted-over limbs, the abyss did not cry with a throat full of ice, calling for assistance in undoing their own crime.

xiao couldn’t decide whether it was lucky or not that baizhu was in the pharmacy, speaking with herbalist gui over the front desk. on one hand, it was best to have the most experienced healer in liyue at your side, but on the other..

“adeptus xiao, what is-…..”

confusion, then anger, then realization, all flashing over his face in an instant before he tilted his head and walked quickly to a back room, xiao following.

he busied himself with picking the ice off his body and clothes, ignoring the shake of his hands and the stench of blood in the room. the mage had pulled you from the point of his spear, but he still hit the side of your stomach, and he could tell it was messy.

knocks sounded at the door but baizhu turned them away sharply, only allowing qiqi to pass him a bowl of lotus seeds. he was focused, changsheng slithering off his shoulders to grab supplies as needed. time seemed to slow to a crawl, like xiao had entered a domain without an exit, filled with the iron smell of blood and the never ending chips of ice he peeled from his skin. it left behind stinging wounds and red marks, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

what was his brief moment of injury compared to a scar upon his god?

the moment that baizhu had stopped, all but collapsing into a chair and wiping off his hands with a tired call of ‘it’s done. the foundation will be okay.’ xiao had stood and left, biting his tongue through the protests of both his own body and the doctor.

he’d given changsheng his confession, but he did not wish to stick around and hear his verdict.

weeks later, morax came and visited him at the inn, carrying with him a plate of almond tofu and an apology. xiao leaned against the furthest edge of the balcony, curled around the plate, staying as far as he could from the one with your aura imprinted upon him.

he felt it, when zhongli had first come up the stairs. the shock, then the warmth, the all-encompassing comfort that soothed the pain from the bruising on his shoulder. he felt it, and knew that he did not deserve it.

“it’s not your fault,” zhongli insisted, baritone words colored with unreturned sympathy. “the fake… had fooled us all. even me. i cannot hold your actions against you when i myself would have done the same.”

and maybe that was true. maybe he would have drawn his own weapon, pierced your skin himself, acting on the orders of one who dared to take the place of the divine, but that was irrelevant.

xiao was the one who had hurt you. and it was entirely his fault.

almond tofu, his favorite dish, tasted bitter and sour on his tongue, almost akin to the pain medication that zhongli had made him drink after noticing how cautious he was with his injured arm. he’d made him take the first dose in front of him and swear to take the rest, with a long monologue about taking care of himself tacked on afterwards, but it was for nothing. aside from the first night he had it, xiao hadn’t touched the bottle. it sat on his nightstand, beside a bed he hardly used, taunting him when he returned earlier than usual.

he could take it. there was nothing stopping him from doing so, and he probably should if he wanted to return to his duties quicker. but every time he picked up the glass, thumb tracing over the engravings as he undid the top, he hesitated.

he could take it. he probably should. but did he deserve to?

you were still recovering, possibly still bedridden weeks later. your blood still stained his spear, dripping down to his palms, pale and scarred skin marked further with the blue and purple swirls of his sin. you were still in pain, still healing from a spear to your side, and he was here, reaching for medicine for a sore shoulder?

(it was worse than that. bone had knocked against bone, bruising beneath where muscle could reach. it ached even when he sat as still as possible, dragging him out of every attempt to meditate. the dark purple splotches stretched beyond his clothing, reaching across his back and up his neck, making nearly any action flare the wound. it was far beyond an over-exerted muscle or a particularly tiring day, and yet even the worst nights of his pain were staved off by the memory of having to wash blue off his blade. even as the latch on the bottle was undone, the lip pressed to his, he could never bring himself to drink it)

(even the small droplet of it on the rim, tasting of qingxin extract and violet grass, threatened to make him sick. how dare he?)

yes, it would likely only get him into more trouble were he found out, but he was careful not to be. whenever the wind brought him the heavy presence of geo, zhongli’s familiar footsteps climbing the stairs, he snatched the bottle and emptied it into the stone carving on the balcony, letting the medicine soak into the soil beneath it. it splashed when he was sloppy, the deep purple medicine appearing blue on the stone, sparking a memory that weighed harder on the pit in his stomach.

even as he handed the bottle over to zhongli, his jaw clenched from the strain on his shoulder. the action was stiff, jerky, but evidently smooth enough that it had passed his assessment.

zhongli tucked the bottle away, surprisingly not drawing out a new one.

“i am proud of you, and of the progress you have made,” he said, golden eyes softening in the light of dusk. “well done, xiao.”

how strange, he thought, watching him leave, that the very action that made his vision swim with unshed tears was one that was praised.

he wouldn’t complain, of course. he never would. this pain was his to bear, just as the burden of your bloodshed was his to shoulder. he was well aware his pain could never take back yours—though he wished, desperately, that he could move your injury to him. he wanted to be able to take on the physical reminder of his defect, to take the hit of his own spear to spare you from his lapse in judgement. he would take it, take ten times the pain you endured, if only it meant that your skin was free of his scars.

it would be an honor to assist the divine, even at the price of his own life.

[peachcitt]

merry christmas @burntwaffle12‼️‼️ this beast is just for you for the @mlsecretsanta gift exchange<3<3

you can read the first chapter of your gift here

happy holidays and i will be back so soon with more<3<3

[welcome-leon]

look I can’t write quick or consistently enough to do one shots but this is something I’ve just had sitting around for a while that I’m happy with. please enjoy Chreon angst/fluff? 🤗

[do not repost]

"I care about you, Leon."

"Don't." It comes out like a beg. "I'm not worth it."

The anger is back again, but it sounds warmer. Closer. "That's bullshit."

"I'm not. I'm— I'm too far gone."

Chris is close, but Leon's eyes have closed without his permission so all he can sense is the heat from his body, the sound of his breathing like waves against the shore and Leon can feel the gravitational pull. Something bestial prowling in his chest, sharp edges and teeth, choking itself on its chain just to get an inch closer.

"I'll bring you back."

It trembles at Chris' soft tone, the wretched thing inside him. That tone is food scraps under the table but Leon is starved and it feels like a feast. Too much and not enough.

"I'll let you down," he whispers. Desperate.

"You could never," Chris replies, just as desperate.

Warm fingers, gentle beneath his chin. Leon is turning towards them before he realises, going easy, sunflower to the sun. He can't open his eyes. He can't bear to look lest he go blind.

"Leon.”

It's almost a whisper and Leon can hardly breathe, air shuddering into his lungs as those rough callouses trace around to his jaw, his cheek, their twins appearing on the other side of his face in balance. He's weak, so weak in the face of this— this. Whatever this is that splits him open and scrapes him clean with touches so gentle. It hurts in ways he doesn't understand. How something so soft can cut so deep.

Chris cups his face in careful, burning hands and Leon makes himself look because he's always planned to meet his death with open eyes and that soft brown gaze nearly rends him in two. It's a look he's never seen before. Not aimed at Claire or Jill or Piers. That aching creature beneath his ribs asks, frightened, hopeful, if this might be just for him.

Their noses brush. Chris says nothing more and Leon couldn't speak if he tried. One hand moves around to the back of his neck, pulling, guiding, and at least this might be something he can handle, might be something he can offer—

Leon's head is pressed to the junction of Chris' neck, a thick arm pulling him close by the waist. He blinks sightlessly over a broad shoulder, uncomprehending. Chris holds him tight, the way that Redfields do, like he can put Leon back together with determination alone. Leon feels the pounding drum of Chris' heart knocking against his sternum and it feels like it's trying to barrel inside, like there's a beast in there too.

"I love you, Leon," Chris murmurs into his hair, breath as warm as a sunbeam on weathered floorboards. "I love you."

There's howling beneath Leon's skin, the ugly thing that Leon is starting to think might be him crying out in a sick want so great his bones shudder with it. I want this. I want this. Please, let me have it.

But Leon knows better and no matter how much he wants, he has to try.

"You shouldn't," he whispers, even as his traitorous arms wind around a thick waist.

"I do," Chris replies, with unerring conviction, and Leon should've known better than to tell Chris Redfield that he shouldn't do anything. "I love you whether you think you deserve it or not. You’ll never be so far gone that I can’t reach you."

And somehow it clicks then. There aren’t shackles around his wrists, latching him to a single man that would leave him adrift if those bonds were to break. There is no pinch on his ear, dragging him to heel when he gets too far ahead. There is only this, his body in Chris' arms, cradled not crushed. A place waiting for him. A north star. A guiding hand. A lighthouse beckoning him—

Home.

Leon breathes in and lets himself curl into the scent like a blanket. He lets himself lean into the man surrounding him and Chris bears his weight so easily. It takes a moment to find his words, smothered as they are within all this ache, but Chris waits for him.

“Okay.”

[sugarsnappeases]

snippet game!!

thank you to both halves of everyone’s second fave dynamic duo (first fave is jen and i obvs) @velanavis and @sixlane for the tags MWAH LOVE U GUYS

rules: if you get tagged, reblog with roughly 100 words of a WIP. no explanation, just the snippet

“I’m twenty.”

Those fucking teeth again. She wants to pull them from his mouth, one by one with her bare hands. Maybe that would stop him talking too.

“That’s sexy, I love an older woman,” is his oh so delightful response. And that’s why she didn’t want to tell him, she knew he’d make it weird. He could probably make anything weird.

She squints at him across the table though, because, although she knows he’s probably just being odd and, although she’d assumed, from the tattoos that she’d caught glimpses of, that he was around her age, there is always the chance that he’s actually like… fifteen. In which case, she thinks she might feel a bit bad for fantasising about his death. Barty smiles placidly back at her.

“How old are you?” She finally decides to ask, when the silence has stretched and she’s still just looking at him.

His grin becomes Chesire-adjacent, “I’m nineteen, sweetheart, so don’t worry, all this-“ he lifts a hand to point a finger between the two of them, “- is perfectly legal.”

“What?” she frowns.

“I’m just saying - I’m a legal adult, it’s okay if you have a crush on me.”

no pressure tags for @quillkiller @themuseoftheviolets @fatemy-friend @itsjaywalkers @carniferous @foursaints soz if you’ve already done it, i haven’t been the most tumblr-present recently

[peachviz]

A scene from Deathwatch (1966)

starring Leonard Nimoy in one of the lead roles vying for the attention and approval of his cellmate, “Green Eyes”

A film ahead of its time based off the play written by Jean Genet. While the film adaptation is not very strong it is still ahead of its time with its queer identity, imagery, and critique on toxic masculinity

[vesper-the-great]

Steal your heart? How about steal the dance floor!

[kismetmoon]

turned my boy into a marketable plushie

[ID: four photos of a handmade plush of an original stylised Flatland character named Atlas. Atlas is a light grey isosceles triangle with dark grey scars on his side and eye, one eye, black limbs and a black tail.

In the first image he is sat down on a bed with floral bedsheets and white pillows. He is directly facing the camera.

In the second image he is sat on the bed beside a ginger cat who is looking at the camera.

In the third and fourth images he is laid down flat on a green rug. His back is to the rug in the third image and his back is to the camera in the fourth image.

End ID].

[ronsenburg]

love the little notes I leave for myself on my wips: