#dalias

[wgm-beautiful-world]

[nodecir]

[softestbuckley]

getting this notification is so embarrassing let me live ao3

[kropotkindersurprise]

April 27, 2025 - Ka Daisy, an NPA guerrilla and trans woman, was martyred after a confrontation with security forces in Barangay Tapi, the Philippines.

She was known for teaching literacy and math to members of her squad who were uneducated and always carrying a make-up kit in her guerilla supplies. May she rest in power. [video]

"As an LGBT youth our role is important in advancing the revolution. To change society's views we must change society herself"

[colouredbyd]

"If you look closely, you'll see them!"

Regulus Black x fem!reader

synopsis: you swear regulus has dimples but no one believes you, not until he walks in and finds you with his eyes. the room stills, and for a breathless moment, they begin to see what you always have.

warnings: pure fluff, mentions of cold deameanor, some mild language, grumpy x sunshine kinda?

w/c: 3k

a/n: my headcanon is that regulus is very much taller than sirius and he has dimples!!! i said what i said guys, argue with me !! also this has been in my drafts for a good 7 months </3

masterlist

"Regulus Black does not have dimples!"

Sirius declares for the third time that afternoon, sprawled across the common room sofa with his legs thrown carelessly over James’s lap, his voice carrying that unbothered arrogance he wielded like a second skin.

"You’re hallucinating."

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you stand firm before the Marauders, unyielding in your defiance. Mary is nestled against Remus’s shoulder, her eyes glimmering with barely-contained amusement as if she knows something the others don’t.

"I am not hallucinating," you retort, voice dripping with indignation, hands finding your hips in a stance that borders on stubbornness. "I’ve seen them! They’re right here."

You jab your own cheeks for emphasis, fingers pressing into the softness just beneath your eyes, and the room erupts into snorts and muffled laughter, your so-called friends delighting in your apparent delusion.

But you know the truth. You have seen them—the delicate crescents that carve themselves into his cheeks when he smiles in that unguarded way, soft and fleeting, like moonlight filtering through darkened leaves. It is a secret you hold close to your heart, something sacred and untouched, for Regulus Black is not supposed to smile like that. Not according to them.

To everyone else, he is sharp lines and cold eyes, distant and unyielding, a boy forged from winter’s breath and brittle starlight. His name drips from their tongues like a warning, a reminder of ancient bloodlines and whispered expectations. But you know better. You have seen the way his eyes soften when you laugh, the way his hands hesitate before touching yours as if afraid he might shatter something precious.

Regulus Black, to you, is soft edges and hidden warmth, tenderness folded into the corners of his smile, something gentle and achingly beautiful beneath the surface. They could not see it, would not believe it, but you did. You always did.

"Darling," James begins, slipping into his most condescending tone as he tilts his glasses down the bridge of his nose to peer at you properly, eyes alight with mischief. "I’ve known Reggie since fourth year, and not once have I ever seen a dimple. Not even a suggestion of one."

He is wrong, you think, pressing your lips together to keep the secret tucked safely in your heart.

They do not know the way Regulus looks at you when no one is watching, how his gaze softens like the edge of dawn, or how his laugh—rare and unbidden—blooms like a flower in the dark. They do not know that Regulus Black, for all his coldness, holds sunlight in his smile, and you are one of the very few who has ever been allowed to see it.

"That’s because you’re not paying attention," you shoot back, arms crossing defensively. "He does this little smile sometimes, it’s soft and kind of lopsided, and there’s this tiny dimple right here—" you poke your cheek again, more insistently, as if the physicality might convince them. "I swear, it’s like magic."

"Or madness," Remus suggests mildly, and Mary dissolves into laughter, her curls shaking as she leans further into him.

"I mean, we’re talking about Regulus Black here, right? My-face-is-carved-from-stone Regulus Black?"

"Maybe it’s just a shadow," Sirius chimes in, inspecting his nails with a grin that teeters on smugness. He hardly even glances up, as if the matter is too trivial for his full attention.

"A trick of the light. Or you’ve been hexed. Definitely hexed. I bet it’s a dimple jinx. You see fake dimples, fall madly in love." His grin widens, eyes glinting with mischief, and the others snicker at the notion.

"I have not been hexed!" you cry, voice pitching higher in your indignation, but your outburst only seems to spur their laughter further.

The sound spills into the room like the crackle of firewood, unrestrained and merry, and you stand at the center of it all, defiant and unyielding. "I’m telling you, I’ve seen them. He has dimples!"

"Right," James nods, his expression shifting to exaggerated seriousness as he claps a hand on your shoulder, eyes sparkling with that brand of Marauder mischief that rarely bodes well.

"And I’m secretly the heir to the Malfoy fortune."

"Stop it." you protest, your hands flying to your hips as if that might root your argument more firmly in truth.

"He has dimples. If you look closely, you’ll see them!"

They laugh again, the sound bubbling up like champagne flutes clinking together, indulgent and disbelieving. But you only hold your ground, chin tilted upward with all the stubbornness of someone who has glimpsed something magical and refuses to let it be reduced to smoke and shadows.

Because you know. You have seen the way Regulus’s face softens when he lets his guard slip, how those tiny, secret dimples blossom at the edges of his smile like something fragile and hidden from the rest of the world. It is not a trick of the light, not some fleeting mirage conjured by wishful thinking.

It is real. He is real. And maybe, just maybe, they have never looked closely enough.

"He does not," Sirius says flatly. "I would know. I’ve seen that miserable mug for seventeen years straight, and not once has it ever hinted at joy. If he’s smiling for you, you might want to check if he’s choking."

"You don’t know everything about him," you snap back, and it’s a bit more pointed than you intended, because Sirius’s expression shifts for the briefest moment, but then he’s back to smirking, one brow arched.

"Oh, I know enough. And I know that my miserable little brother is physically incapable of producing dimples. It would require smiling first. Which is practically illegal for him, by the way. Pretty sure he signed a contract with Death himself."

"He does smile," you argue. "Just... not around you lot."

Mary’s eyes light up at that, and she sits up a little straighter, nudging Remus. "Not around us, huh? Just around you?"

You hesitate, heat creeping up your neck. "Well… yeah. I suppose." At their expressions, you quickly add, "That’s not weird!"

"It’s a little weird," Remus says thoughtfully. "I mean, I’ve never seen him smile like that." He looks to Sirius for confirmation, who just shakes his head.

"Me neither," Sirius agrees. "And if he was going to be grinning like a lovesick idiot, I feel like I’d know. Or maybe you just have some sort of freaky dimple-seeing ability. Is that a thing? Can we get that checked?"

"Maybe he only smiles for her," Mary sing-songs, and you swat at her, cheeks blazing. "What? I’m just saying!"

You cross your arms tighter over your chest, frustration curling hot and sharp beneath your ribs. You know what you saw. It wasn’t magic or shadows or madness. It was Regulus, soft and unguarded in a way that felt almost secret. A piece of him reserved just for you, like a glimpse behind the curtain of a play only you were meant to watch.

But they wouldn’t believe you. They couldn’t. Because to them, Regulus was all sharp edges and cold stares, impenetrable as stone. But to you, he was something else entirely.

You saw the parts he kept hidden—the softness, the ache, the way his eyes would linger when he thought you weren’t looking. The way his fingers brushed yours just a bit too long when he handed you your books, the way he stood a little closer than necessary when you walked side by side. His dimples were proof of it. Proof of the parts of him that were gentle and real and yours.

"I’m not making it up," you murmur stubbornly, softer this time, almost like you’re telling it to yourself.

James leans back, stretching his legs out in front of him. "You know, I almost want you to be right. I’ve never seen Regulus with dimples before. I think it would break my brain."

The room is still shaking with laughter when the portrait door swings open. It is a subtle thing, just the soft groan of hinges and the hush of movement, but you feel it like an echo in your bones. Your gaze snaps up before you can help it, the breath stalling in your lungs as if caught between heartbeats.

There he is, Regulus Black, framed in the doorway like he has stepped out of a painting, shadows and light playing across his features in sharp relief.

He is ice and elegance, his gaze sweeping over the room with cool detachment, the sort of look that makes even Sirius go still. His brother’s grin falters, an instinctual pause as if the air has been sucked from the room.

Regulus’s eyes flicker over them, James’s raised brow, Sirius’s smirk half-frozen in place, Remus’s unbothered calm, but there is nothing there, not even a nod of acknowledgment. His expression is marble-carved, beautiful and unyielding.

But then his gaze finds yours, and it softens, melts like snow beneath the first touch of spring. His eyes brighten, lips twitching at the corners, and suddenly it is like you are the only two people in the room. The change is breathtaking, the kind of transformation that feels like stepping into sunlight after days of rain.

Without thinking, you are already moving, feet carrying you across the room as if pulled by some invisible thread.

"Regulus," you breathe, and the way his name falls from your lips feels like unspooling thread, like the first sigh of spring. His expression softens entirely, something delicate and aching sparking behind his eyes as you practically throw yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, arms winding around your waist, steady and certain, like he has been waiting for you his entire life.

Your hands are in his hair before you realize it, fingertips grazing the base of his neck as you pull back just enough to look at him properly. His smile is still there, still hovering at the edges, and it is soft and real and yours.

"I missed you," you whisper, half a confession, half a prayer, and as soon as the words leave your lips, it happens.

A tiny crease, delicate and almost imperceptible, blooms on his left cheek, like the first hint of dawn breaking over a dark horizon.

A dimple, soft and secret, there and gone in a heartbeat, as if it only exists for you.

"I missed you too, amour," he murmurs, his gaze flicking over your face like he is memorizing it. "You have no idea."

There is a tension in the room, thick and breathless, as if the very walls are leaning in to listen, the crackle of the fire muted under the weight of disbelief.

The Marauders and Mary are watching with wide eyes, suspended between fascination and utter incredulity, as if the scene before them is too tender, too impossibly soft to be real.

Regulus Black—aloof and unyielding, frost-kissed and sharp-edged—is holding you like something sacred, his arms wrapped around you with a gentleness that seems to contradict everything they thought they knew of him. His thumb brushes across your cheek, feather-light and reverent, as though you are made of something finer than bone and breath, something worth protecting.

And then he smiles—just a fraction more—but it is enough.

You do not even realize what you are doing; your body moves before your mind catches up, and you lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, quick and soft and so achingly familiar it feels like slipping into an old memory. He blinks, eyes flickering with surprise, but you do not pull away.

You lean in again, pressing your lips to his other cheek, right where his smile deepens, and it happens—a twin to the first, blooming on the opposite cheek as if coaxed into existence by your touch alone.

A second dimple, tender and unmistakable, carved into his pale skin like it had been waiting there all along, hidden just beneath the surface.

You are not the only one who notices.

Behind you, there is the unmistakable sound of someone choking on their own breath, followed by a very loud, "What the hell?" from James, his voice pitched somewhere between awe and utter disbelief.

Regulus glances up, his gaze catching on James, who is staring as if he has just witnessed stone turn to gold, like magic itself has unfolded right in front of him.

Sirius is uncharacteristically silent, eyes narrowed in something akin to suspicion or maybe even wonder, while James’s jaw is completely unhinged, glasses slipping precariously down the bridge of his nose.

Remus is blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear away a mirage, mouth slightly parted in surprise. And Mary—sweet, sharp-eyed Mary—looks positively gleeful, her grin spreading slow and wicked as she nudges Remus sharply in the ribs, her eyes dancing with triumph.

"I told you," she mouths, lips curving around each word with delight.

Because it is true.

There is no need to look closely, no need to squint or peer beneath shadows—Regulus Black’s dimples are right there, clear as daylight and twice as warm, so stunningly visible that they might as well have been carved out of starlight.

They blossom wide and unguarded, softening the sharp lines of his face, and for a heartbeat, he is not the boy forged from winter’s chill and midnight silence. He is something brighter, something softer, and it is plain to see that with you, he is allowed to be gentle.

"I told you!" you practically crow, turning back to face them while still locked in Regulus’s arms. "I told you he has dimples!"

Sirius remains silent, watching with something like suspicion, but James looks like he has seen a ghost.

James is still staring. "I think I need to sit down."

"You are sitting down," Remus points out.

"I think I need to sit down lower," James clarifies faintly.

But you are not paying attention to them anymore, because Regulus is looking at you with that same impossible smile, both dimples still lingering like promises.

His hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking a gentle line across your skin. "You told them about my dimples?" he asks, voice low and edged with amusement.

You nod, breathless and unashamed. "I did. And they did not believe me."

His smile softens, stretching wider, and both dimples deepen like secret doorways to some hidden softness that only you are allowed to see.

He leans in, the space between you shrinking until his breath mingles with yours, and his voice drops to a low, velvety murmur meant only for you.

"You really should not spend so much time with Gryffindors," he whispers, his tone laced with quiet disdain that is more habit than heart, though his gaze remains warm and unyielding, crafted entirely for you. "I think they are starting to rub off on you." His eyes glimmer with amusement, but there is something else there too, something tender that settles in the quiet curve of his smile.

Your laughter spills out, bright and unrestrained, like the first crack of sunlight through winter clouds, and before you know it, your hands are tugging him closer, closing whatever space remains.

In that moment, it is just you and him, suspended in the fragile stillness that belongs only to the two of you, where the rest of the world feels distant and unimportant, something to be dealt with later.

For now, there is only this: his smile, his dimples carved like promises into his cheeks, and the gentle, unwavering warmth of his arms around you, holding you close as if he is terrified of letting go, as if this is a vow whispered into the spaces between heartbeats.

The truth is, Sirius had always known that Regulus had dimples.

He had known for years, had seen the faint creases carve themselves into his brother’s cheeks on the rarest of occasions, like fleeting whispers of a softer world beneath the ice.

But the thing is, those dimples only ever appeared when Regulus was around you, when your laughter spilled into the room like sunlight or when your name slipped from his mouth with that unguarded tenderness that seemed to unravel something deep and hidden in him.

It was as though the universe had woven this small, delicate fragment of softness solely for you to uncover, a secret threaded carefully into the very fabric of him, waiting patiently for your hands to find it, to hold it like something sacred and fragile and wholly yours.

[astrobydalia]

The different inner placements for each sign — observations+ranking

by astrobydalia

Disclaimer: these are based on my personal experience and opinions!!

Aries

Mercury: so insanely smart and fast thinkers. Very real, straight to the point and say-it-like-it-is kind of people, love them. I could hear them talk all day

ASC: most authentic people you'll meet!!! What you see is what you get. Also very spontaneous and effortlessly fun

Venus: love, so fun to be around and specially the women with this placement they're soooo hot

Sun, Mars: these are very similar imo. so loyal and protective people but they tend to be pretty crass and often come across as rude unintentionally. Aries Suns are more blunt and outspoken while Aries Mars can be more chill but they're more prone to attracting hate. Great people to have in your corner overall.

Moon: Stubborn as fuck. Not open to understanding anything beyond themselves so they tend go around life with HUGE tunnel vision. Trying to reason/negotiate with them is nearly impossible

Taurus

Moon: my god, you won't know emotional intelligence, calmness and care until you meet a Taurus Moon like DAMN. Their patience, empathy and sense of boundaries is just impecable

ASC: their energy is sooooo soothing like ugh. They have a very cute and comforting aura, very magnetic people and naturally gorgeous

Mercury: they speak slow or not too much but once they let a full sentence out it's usually GOLD

Sun: hmmmm they do tend to be kinda full of themselves but they have BDE and are pretty hot so I'll give them that

Mars: VOICE is soooo good. However they tend to be low-key problematic tbh. Will get very snappy and petty real quick

Venus: I know this is venus's domicile but... most taurus venus I've seen were low-key kinda..... harsh and stern in their love style?? And not all that loyal if im honest with you, they're only loyal when they see personal benefit/satisfaction. It’s true that they’ll spoil you if they truly love you tho

Gemini

Mars: comeback queens/kings, also very multi-talented. What else can I say they always manage to be so iconic

Moon: out of all gemini placements they're the most likely to sit down and really listen to you. Can be too honest, another say-it-like-it-is placement. Comforting others is not their forte but they're very tolerant and patient

Venus: golden retriever energy, extroverted and popular and I've said this before but they can be very loyal!!

Sun: they are cool and so so funny but can also be veeeeery immature and a bit self-righteous. I love them but that bad press they have in pop culture exists for a reason that's all im gonna say

ASC: they're very intelligent and entertaining but gemini on the asc is such a messy placement imo cause they have an identity/existencial crisis at least twice a day which can make them kinda chaotic people to have in your life (love you guys tho)

Mercury: talking with them is VERY annoying tbh. They will just roughly listen to what you say just keep interrupting and eventually start their own monologue. They ain't listening they aren't even wanting for their turn to speak they're just waiting for whatever opportunity to speak

Cancer

Mercury: such good listeners!! also they are very honest and genuine with what they say like aries mercury but more tactful

Venus: this placement soothes down the most fiery personality. They are very loved and inexplicably magnetic

ASC: mommy issues. I love their intuition and they are really good at creating community wherever they go but my only complaint is they are defensive 24/7

Moon: hit or miss. Either really emotionally mature person that wants to take care of everyone or very immature and childish with a victim complex

Sun: huge attention seekers. Insecure, codependent and always looking for validation. Tend to portray themselves as innocent/clueless/harmless, etc.

Mars: these are SLY motherfuckers, they scare me more than scorpio mars

Leo

Moon: I have to admit this placement surprised me for the better. Yes they can be egotistical and entitled but when developed leo moons are very profound and passionate people with strong morals and are really good at inspiring others and lifting them up

Sun: the main character complex rumors may or may not be true but their magnetism and charm is undeniable

Mars: extremely prideful, my way or the highway kinda attitude, but they’re usually pretty harmless people from what I’ve seen. Their anger can be intense but they let it go easily after some dramatic moment. Dedicated.

ASC: daddy issues central. Known to be the most introverted leo placement but they’re very very very attached to their pride underneath. They really do wanna be/feel special and unique to the point of keeping most people at arm’s length cause that’s how much they wanna distinct themselves

Mercury: won’t hesitate to change topics if they don’t care what is being talked about or it has nothing to do with them. Laser focused on their interests tho that’s pretty cool

Venus: yeah they're generous but also a bit overbearing and low-key snotty. Tendency to associate themselves with people they don’t like all that much just because it gives them status or cause they get to receive lavish treatment

Virgo

Mars: omfg I love this placement so much. They handle conflict with SO much grace and embody all the good traits of virgo (capable, responsible, hard workers, great to work with, helpful, self-accountable....) *lady gaga's voice* talented brilliant incredible amazing show-stopping spectacular-

Venus: genuinely very responsable, dedicated and loyal in their relationships and commitments. I always find myself often complimenting their style and fashion choices

Mercury: a bit of a menace bc they can be good liars but they're always very very talented individuals in whatever it is they do

ASC: pretty self-serving tbh and often come across as goody-two-shoes or know-it-alls but they're alright for the most part. The virgo placement that has it the LEAST together tbh

Moon: they'll be there for you when you need help or advice but they can be pretty judgmental. They have a tendency to not really give people some grace. If they genuinely like you tho they’ll be extremely appreciative of everything you do right. Supportive

Sun: Very standoffish personality. Hard on themselves on the surface but probably also has a hidden superiority complex. The only placement where I prefer the men over the women

Libra

Moon: least superficial libra placement. Very introspective, sweet and find it really easy to understand other's emotions in an unbiased way

Mercury: invented the concept of understanding and voicing other perspectives with necessarily agreeing. Mind of their own.

Venus: superficial and obsessed with the opposite sex? Yes. Extremely devoted in all their relationships? Also yes.

Sun: meh. I keep having this experience with Libra Suns where I think they're great at first but then they end up being... not so great after some time. They're not bad really but their air-headedness makes them very unreliable

ASC: Their charm is manipulative and can easily hide a shitty personality underneath (not always the case tho). They're also the most emotionally superficial/detached of the bunch

Mars: hypocrates, huge huge hypocrates. Dubious morality. Playing devils advocate

Scorpio

Sun: they mind their own business and are really good at picking their battles wisely, only taking out their “dark” energy when it’s needed

Mars: don’t bother them and they won’t bother you. That’s the golden rule. Otherwise they’re pretty chill and unproblematic, dark humor enjoyers and strong-willed. I won’t say they’re completely drama free but hey

Mercury: they’ll be open to talk about anything, you can tell them literally anything and will listen intently without judgement. They can easily use info against others or withhold info tho so make sure they can be trusted

ASC: y’all low-key enjoy toxicity and drama but you don’t wanna admit it!!! They really thrive in uncomfortable situations and probably likes gossip too. One of the most black-or-white mindset placements

Venus: yeah not the best in relationships. They don’t really give their all and when they do give something it’s never unconditional. Relationships are always a power dynamic to them

Moon: Very tricky placement. Life has not been kind to them oof. Either they’re very traumatized people with a good heart deep down or very traumatized people with a really ugly and nasty soul. They also romanticize psychopaths and antisocial behaviors for some reason?????

Sagittarius

ASC: yes Im biased I don't care. But, be honest, when have you met a sag asc that wasn't cool af? Case closed. Life's good as a sag asc and when it's not, we make it that way

Sun: if you keep the men out of the equation sag suns are amazing!!! Their personality is like a breath of fresh air

Mercury: soso profound and intelligent. Will introduce you to new perspectives, great researchers. So good at finding answers and solutions!!!

Venus: Very open-minded, they are genuinely very accepting of literally any kind of person! They will applaud and celebrate your differences and quirks however they tend to be flighty and pretty light on their feet

Moon: Anger issues!!! Very volatile and defensive people underneath that chill and funny persona. They have well-known beef with someone. Don't like admitting their wrong, prone to ghosting everyone 99% of the times

Mars: the most entitled and rude out of all the sagittarius placements. The type to laugh in your face and never take accountability, their attitude can be revolting if you ask me

Capricorn

Venus: they make me MELT. So incredibly attractive, reliable, such an impecable taste, the way they treat you will bring you to your knees like ugh I can't

Mars: most resilient individuals I've seen truly!! Literally nothing will bring them down. So so ambitious, focused and have endless energy love them

Sun: cap suns and I have natural synergy. They're very level-headed, reliable, loyal and mature. However they are huge fatalists, very pessimistic and my jupiterian ass ain’t got time for that

ASC: too obsessed with their status and/or how they're perceived compared to others in their circle like sis stop caring sm what others think and live a little!!!

Mercury: listen, these folks can be very intelligent and well-read, but they tend to come across as narrow-minded or bigoted sometimes with the things the say or how they say things

Moon: I wanna root for y'all cap moons but being honest I've seen this placement is very common in really toxic personalities. They hold lots of past resentments and can be very judgmental and mean similar to virgo moons

Aquarius

ASC: socially adaptable but they stay true to themselves at the same time. Attractive, loyal and fresh personality/presence.

Mars: veeeery likable and popular. They really are dedicated to making an impact on the people

Sun: when they just simply focus on being themselves and doing their own thing they're very genuinely special and chill people and great friends! However when they care too much about being making themselves special they're very egocentric and unnecessarily problematic

Venus: messy placement. Very welcoming but they have big trust issues. They go back and forth between 'everyone loves me' and 'everyone hates me' and so they act accordingly....

Mercury: super intelligent, great in debates and very convincing, they always make great points. However the god complex is BLATANT here, they really think they're the only one that's right

Moon: another deeply traumatized placement. They can be great advocates for the collective however they tend to lack empathy specially when it comes to interpersonal relationships

Pisces

Sun: rough around the edges at first but they are a lot more helpless and vulnerable than they seem on the surface. Also they are genuinely really good at disappearing??? You won't even notice they're gone. Their presence is striking tho

Mercury: "idk what the fuck she's saying but girl I am living!". They have such a rich inner world I can't. SEDUCTIVE

ASC: they are... functioning humans. They go around life not being completely sure of what's going on but hey that Jupiter is somehow making everything work for them

Moon: "There is an idea of Pisces Moons, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real them. Only an entity, something illusory. And though they can hide their wondering gaze, and you can shake their hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense your life styles are probably comparable, they simply are not there"

Venus: I've already spilled the tea on this placement. Next.

Mars: ever person I've seen with this placement was mentally unwell like, severely. They're doormats for the most part but there's this hidden side of them that can turn into a total demon

by astrobydalia

[minxinq]

when the dig is delightful !!!!!!!! and the drive is direct !!!!!!!!!!!! dj

[wgm-beautiful-world]

[marf244]

We need more baby Des and mama Miles 💥

[goldensunset]

i have a disease where i need to make stupid khux things at least once a month or i die

[softestbuckley]

i'll never get over the shameless way eddie was watching buck during the poker game

[yuripira4e]

I love all podcast art equally but some of y’all need to stop drawing OI 23 year old yaoi twinks and start drawing 45 year old men who have experienced the horrors™ and are having gay sex about it

[colouredbyd]

Sweater Weather

Regulus Black x fem!reader

synopsis: Regulus, notoriously bad at expressing love, spends an entire fall knitting you the world’s ugliest sweater, yet you wear it anyway

warnings: fluff, insecurities, ugly sweaters, regulus being a love sick softie, and even more fluff

w/c: 4.7k

a/n: i love soft reg <3 (not proofread)

masterlist

There is a softness to winter mornings at Hogwarts that you adore, a kind of stillness that feels almost sacred. Frost clings delicately to the windows, tracing lacework patterns across the glass, fragile and intricate, as if the castle itself is caught in the delicate grasp of some ancient enchantment.

Breath mists in the chill of the corridors, curling like pale wisps of smoke, mingling with the warmth of whispered secrets and stolen laughter that flutters from the lips of students bundled in scarves and heavy cloaks.

You love it—the quiet magic of it all—the way the world seems to slow and hush beneath the weight of fresh snow, footsteps muffled and echoes softened, as though the very air is holding its breath. And you love how that magic seems to linger on your skin, settling there like snowflakes that refuse to melt, shimmering faintly in the early morning light, a fragile reminder that even in the coldest months, there is beauty.

Regulus hates it. You know this because he tells you, every single morning, his voice low and sharp-edged, threaded with the kind of irritation that never seems to thaw.

There is always something to complain about—the cold that seeps through stone walls and nips at his fingers, the brightness of sunlight reflecting off snowbanks like shards of glass, the way the castle seems to creak and groan with the weight of frost.

He mutters his grievances beneath his breath, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his robes, shoulders hunched against the chill as if the very air is an inconvenience meant solely to test his patience. His scowl is etched into those fine, aristocratic features, sharp and unyielding, like it was carved there long ago and never quite managed to fade.

And yet, despite his endless grumbling, he still meets you by the stairwell every morning, just as he always has, waiting with the sort of resigned sigh that makes you laugh when you catch it.

His presence is constant, unspoken, as if written into the rhythm of your days—the shadow that lingers just a step behind you, the steady heartbeat of winter mornings that would feel incomplete without him.

When you bound up to him, cheeks flushed from the cold, hair tousled by the wind, you greet him with a smile that is impossibly bright for such an early hour, eyes shimmering with the warmth he pretends not to crave.

And though he greets you with a grimace, lips pulled into something almost petulant, you have seen the way it softens when you are not looking. It is fleeting, barely there, the ghost of something gentle that flickers at the edges of his expression before he smothers it with a practiced indifference. But you catch it sometimes, that brief surrender to warmth, and it is enough to make you believe that maybe winter is not so harsh after all.

You met him through the Marauders. They were your closest friends, the ones who tugged you into their mischief and laughed with you until your sides hurt, but Regulus had been the curious exception.

Sirius had never been quite able to understand it, always watching the two of you with narrowed eyes, as if trying to solve a riddle that kept slipping out of his grasp. Remus would only chuckle and shake his head, while James insisted it was just “some sort of cosmic prank.”

But you knew better. You always had.

There was something that tethered you to Regulus Black, something unspoken but deeply rooted, woven through your days like threads of silver light. It lingered in the quiet spaces between conversations, in the gentle pauses where words were unnecessary, where silence became a language only the two of you could understand.

It was not grand or ostentatious; there were no sweeping gestures or declarations shouted into the wind. Instead, it was soft and unhurried, a kind of devotion that thrived in the delicate moments—those fragile, fleeting seconds where time seemed to hold its breath.

It was in the way his hand would linger just a heartbeat too long when he passed you a book, fingertips brushing against yours with a softness that felt almost accidental, yet always intentional.

It was the way he would walk on the outside of the pavement whenever you wandered through the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, his gaze sharp and watchful, his hand hovering near your back when the crowd grew too thick, like he was ready to pull you closer at the first sign of trouble. He never spoke of it, never gave name to the way his touch felt like a promise, but you felt it all the same—steady and unyielding, like the pull of the moon on the tide.

There was no need to pin it down with words, to shatter the fragile magic of it by making it solid. It existed in the spaces between breaths, in the glances that lingered just a moment too long, in the way his fingers would brush the back of your hand when he thought no one was looking.

It was there, unbreakable and steady, carved into the marrow of your days together, silent and certain as the turning of the seasons.

Regulus Black was a storm cloud personified—dark and swirling and distant—but you had always liked the rain. He once told you, during a particularly bitter October, that he adored your cheerfulness. You had only laughed, nudging his shoulder and remarking that his grumpiness was practically medicinal for you, like a tonic that kept your head from floating too far into the clouds.

He had not smiled, but his eyes had softened, just a bit, just enough for you to see it. It was the closest thing to affection you would get from him, and you had treasured it like a secret.

And perhaps that was why, despite the way he huffed and scowled and complained, he always waited for you by the stairwell every morning.

He would be there, hands stuffed into his robe pockets, expression fixed into that familiar look of begrudging patience, but he was there—always. And perhaps that was why you always came running, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, breath puffing out in soft clouds of frost as you bounded up to him as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

He would roll his eyes at your cheeriness, mutter something about "too much energy for this hour," but you had seen the way his shoulders relaxed the moment you came into view, the way his gaze would soften ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, like the first thaw of spring.

And maybe that was why, even when the corridors were crowded and the air too frigid to feel your fingertips, the world seemed a little bit softer with him there, even if he would never admit it. You felt it in the way he would shift his books to his left arm just so his right could hover protectively at your side, guiding you through clusters of students without a word. You felt it in the way his gaze would flicker to your hands sometimes, brow furrowing if you forgot your gloves, and how, without fail, the next morning a pair would be waiting for you, no note, no explanation, just the softness of wool threaded with silent concern. He would brush off your thanks with a scoff, cheeks a touch pinker than usual, but the warmth lingered all the same.

But as the weather grew colder, so too did Regulus begin to act a little strange.

It was subtle at first—a missed breakfast here, a hurried excuse there, nothing glaringly obvious but enough to leave you tilting your head in quiet confusion.

His presence, once so steady and familiar, began to slip away like fog burning off with the morning sun. You would catch glimpses of him in the corridors, his gaze flickering away too quickly when you tried to meet it, his hands buried a little deeper into his pockets as if holding onto something secret.

He would disappear for hours, sometimes entire evenings, and when you asked him where he had been, his responses were clipped but gentle. "Busy," he would say with the smallest of smiles, brushing off your questions with a kind of practiced patience that left you with a thousand more. His eyes would soften, though, just for a moment, as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t quite bring himself to unravel that thread of secrecy.

More curious still was the time he had begun spending with Pandora. It was not unusual for them to share the occasional conversation—Pandora was sweet and curious, a bit like bottled stardust, fluttering around with wild hair and ink-smudged hands, always speaking in riddles that left you smiling and a little bit bewildered.

But now they seemed to be together constantly. In the library, heads bent over something you could not quite see. By the greenhouses, hands moving in gestures that spoke of plans and secrets. You would see them huddled together in the courtyard sometimes, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke and his head bowed in concentration, nodding along with something you could not hear.

When you asked him about it, his gaze would flicker to you with something unreadable before he smoothed his features back into something softer, more familiar. "Nothing important," he would say, voice quiet and unyielding, before changing the subject with a soft sort of insistence that left no room for prying.

But you saw the way his hands would flex at his sides after you asked, the way he would glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like there was something caught in his throat that he could not quite bring himself to say.

And though you trusted him—you always had—a part of you could not help but wonder what secrets this autumn had coaxed from him, what fragile thing he held in his hands that he was too afraid to show you.

He still met you in the mornings, still walked you to your classes and stood with you in companionable silence by the frost-covered windows.

He was not distant, not cold—just different. A touch more secretive, a little more preoccupied, and when you asked him if everything was alright, he would only smile and tell you not to worry, and you would pretend that you were not worried at all.

Regulus shuffles his feet, cheeks dusted a delicate pink against the bite of winter’s chill, and his hands tighten around the fraying cloth bundle he cradles behind his back as if it is something precious, something breakable.

His eyes flicker to yours, soft and uncertain, before flitting away again, skimming over the frost-bitten hedges and the towering spires of Hogwarts that rise like shadowed sentinels against the pale, wintry sky. Snow drifts lazily around you, swirling in gentle spirals that catch on the hem of your cloak, the world hushed and still, as if holding its breath just for the two of you.

"I wanted to..." He pauses, the words slipping from his lips like fragile things, delicate and unsure, barely loud enough to be carried by the breeze.

His shoulders tense, and he straightens almost instinctively, like he is bracing against some unseen force, eyes dropping to the patch of snow between your feet. "I wanted to make you something. For the cold."

His voice is so soft, so uncharacteristically tender, that it takes you a moment to process it.

Surprise flickers across your features, warm and bright, your eyes softening with the kind of gentleness that always seems to unspool something tightly wound inside of him.

"For the cold?" you echo, your voice light with disbelief and something else—something softer, sweeter—that threads through the space between you like a whisper.

He nods, gaze still fixed on the snow as if it holds the answer to something unspoken. "You’re always complaining about being cold," he murmurs, so quietly it is almost lost beneath the whisper of the wind. "I thought… I thought maybe I could help."

There is a tenderness in the way he says it, a kind of careful vulnerability that makes your heart ache just a little. He shifts his weight, rocking back and forth with a nervous energy that is so uncharacteristic, his knuckles white where they clutch the bundle, fingers flexing as if bracing for impact.

"It’s... it’s not good," he rushes out, the words stumbling over one another in their haste to escape. "Not even close to good, actually. It’s probably the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen, and I wouldn’t blame you if you hated it. I wouldn’t—" He swallows, voice faltering just a little, his gaze still fixed on the snow at his feet.

"I wouldn’t even be upset if you didn’t want to wear it."

You watch him, the way his hands tighten and loosen around the bundle, the way his eyes flicker with that nervous, flickering light, and your heart softens with the weight of it.

He is bracing himself for rejection, for ridicule, and the realization makes your chest ache with something warm and tender.

You tilt your head, a soft smile curling at the corners of your mouth as you watch him ramble, his voice a little higher than usual, his hands fidgeting like he can’t quite find the right place for them.

"Regulus, my love," you say gently, and his eyes snap up to yours, wide and startled, silver flickering with something like hope and fear and every unspoken thing he’s never quite managed to say. "I’m sure it’s perfect."

His mouth opens, then closes, his gaze flickering away as if he is struggling to decide whether or not to argue. "I—no," he says finally, shaking his head with a furrowed brow.

"It’s really not, amour. It’s—Pandora helped me, but she said I knit like a drunk troll, and honestly, I think she’s right."

A laugh bursts from you, bright and sudden, the sound curling through the frostbitten air, and his expression softens just a bit, the corners of his mouth twitching as if suppressing a smile.

"A drunk troll?" you repeat, voice laced with mirth, and he rolls his eyes, cheeks flushing deeper, the pink spreading like watercolors beneath pale skin.

"It’s bad," he insists, voice dropping to a murmur, softer now, like a confession whispered against the edge of dawn, fragile and almost transparent in the chill of the morning. "Really bad. I just… I just wanted you to be warm."

You step closer, the snow crunching beneath your feet like the soft crackle of embers, and reach out without thinking, fingertips brushing against his knuckles where they grip the bundle with a desperation that is almost sacred. His hands are cold, trembling just slightly beneath your touch, and when he looks up at you, eyes wide and uncertain, it is like staring into something raw and unspoken, something delicate enough to shatter.

"You made something for me," you whisper, voice feather-light and trembling at the edges with wonder. The words settle between you, soft and gentle, curling into the spaces left empty by winter’s chill. "How could that ever be bad, Reggie?"

He blinks, and for a moment, it seems as if the frost caught in his lashes might melt from the heat in your gaze.

His blush deepens, spreading like the first flush of dawn to the tips of his ears, and the sight of it, of him standing there with snowflakes caught in his hair and cheeks dusted with pink, is something almost ethereal. Like a painting come to life, brushed in soft hues and fragile light.

"Because you deserve beautiful things," he says quietly, the words so soft you almost miss them, like they are meant for the snow at his feet rather than for you.

His gaze drops again, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, and his grip on the bundle tightens, knuckles white against the fraying edges of the cloth. "And I don’t know how to make beautiful things."

His voice is so gentle, so unbearably tender, that it feels as though the air itself stills to listen. There is a vulnerability in his words, a kind of delicate confession that unfurls between you like petals in bloom, and for a moment, you cannot speak, cannot breathe, because Regulus Black is standing before you with frost in his hair and his heart in his hands, and you think you might never want to be warm again if it means staying in this moment a little while longer.

You want to tell him that he is wrong, that everything he touches is beautiful because he is beautiful, but the words tangle in your throat, heavy and aching. So instead, you just squeeze his hand, gentle and reassuring, and offer him the only thing you can: the softness of your smile and the unyielding warmth in your eyes.

"Show me?" you ask softly, and he hesitates, eyes flickering back to yours, searching for something fragile and unspoken. His hands tighten around the bundle, knuckles pale, and for a moment you think he might refuse.

But then he takes a breath, a trembling thing that ghosts white in the morning air, and nods.

"Yeah, sure, 'kay," he whispers, voice cracking just a little, eyes shining with something raw and tender. "Okay."

The cloth slips away slowly, unfurling like the petals of a flower, and there, nestled within the worn fabric, is a sweater.

It is not perfect—the stitches are uneven in places, and one of the sleeves is just slightly longer than the other, but it is yours.

It is your favorite color, threaded with hues that catch the winter light and turn it into something soft and gentle. There are places where the yarn loops a little too tightly, where the fabric bunches just slightly, but you can see the effort in every knot, the tenderness in every crooked seam.

He had made this for you, painstakingly, deliberately, as if weaving together the very threads of his heart.

Your hands move without thinking, reaching out to trace the fabric, fingertips brushing over the soft, uneven stitches with something close to reverence.

It is warmer than you expect, soft and inviting, and you look up at him with eyes that shimmer in the morning light, filled with something that makes his breath catch. He is watching you carefully, nervously, like he is afraid you might laugh or turn away, his hands now empty and fidgeting at his sides. His gaze is fixed on you, searching, waiting, as if bracing for rejection.

"Regulus," you breathe, voice feather-soft, and he stiffens, jaw clenching just slightly. "You made this for me?" The words are almost a whisper, delicate and fragile, as if saying them too loudly might shatter the moment entirely.

His gaze drops to his feet, and he nods, just once, barely more than a tilt of his head. "I—I know it’s not good," he murmurs, voice small and cracking at the edges. "I tried to fix the stitches, but it just… I couldn’t get it right. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to wear it."

You do not even let him finish before you are slipping it over your head, the fabric catching on your hair before settling around your shoulders, heavy and warm and perfect.

It smells like him—like cedarwood and parchment and the faintest hint of mint. You pull your hands through the sleeves, letting them hang just a bit too long past your wrists, and then you look up at him, beaming, bright and unrestrained.

"It’s perfect," you say, voice brimming with something soft and unyielding, something that catches in your throat and makes your heart ache.

"It’s perfect, Regulus." You twirl in place, laughing as the hem flares out just a little, catching the light like the glimmer of frost on snow. "I love it," you add, more earnestly, the words spilling from your lips without hesitation. "I love it so much!"

He stares at you, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and for a moment, it seems as though he has forgotten how to breathe. But then his gaze drops to the sleeve, where your fingertips are brushing against a small, messy patch of thread—a sun, unevenly stitched, its rays crooked but unmistakably bright.

You pause, running your fingers over the stitches, and then you look up at him, eyes glimmering with curiosity and wonder. "A sun?" you ask, voice gentle, reverent. "Why did you…?"

He looks away, fingers fumbling at his sides, the blush creeping down his neck. "Because," he begins, voice low and unsteady, the words coming slowly, like he has to pull them from someplace deep inside his chest.

"Because you are my soleil," he says softly, eyes flickering back to yours, and his gaze is so earnest, so tender, that it makes your breath hitch. "Mon rayon de soleil dans l'hiver," he continues, voice turning delicate and fragile, like glass spun too thin. (My ray of sunshine in the winter)

And for a moment, everything else falls away—the snow, the cold, the distant towers of Hogwarts. It is just you and him, standing there in the hush of winter’s breath, the sweater warm against your skin and his eyes soft with something unspoken, something infinite.

His words wrap around you like the sweater itself, warm and fragile and threaded with something achingly tender.

Something catches in your throat, the soft ache of yearning and something deeper.

And when you look back up at him, beaming, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, he stares like he has never seen anything quite so beautiful in his life.

The sweater drapes over you like it was made from sunlight and spun with care, each thread a testament to hands that worked quietly and patiently in the stillness of winter nights. It is imperfect, a little rough at the edges, but you love it more for that—the way it hugs your shoulders, the way it spills just past your wrists, the way it smells faintly of cedar and parchment, unmistakably him.

When you look up, your smile is incandescent, eyes shining with something that catches the fragile morning light and makes it feel like the first breath of spring. Before you can think twice, you are in his arms, pulling him close with a burst of warmth and laughter that rings out like music against the frostbitten air.

Regulus stiffens at first, the way he always does when affection is given too freely, too brightly, but his hands find your back, tentative and soft, fingertips grazing the fabric he crafted with his own hands.

His touch is gentle, almost reverent, like he is afraid you might slip away if he holds too tightly. But you do not slip away. You hold on, and he melts into it, his breath warm against your shoulder, steadying himself in the cradle of your embrace.

You pull back just enough to see his face, and your smile only widens, brilliant and unrestrained, cheeks flushed with something deeper than the cold.

"I love it," you whisper, voice trembling with sincerity, and then louder, bursting with joy that cannot be contained, "I love it, Regulus! It’s perfect!" The words spill from your lips like sunlight through cracked glass, filling the space between you with something pure and unyielding.

"I absolutely love it," you insist, the words tumbling over each other, bright and breathless.

"It’s my favorite thing I’ve ever owned." You spin then, arms stretched wide, the sleeves fluttering like wings, and snow dusts the air around you in shimmering spirals. Laughter spills from you, ringing out across the courtyard, and you look so alive, so impossibly beautiful in your joy, that he is struck silent.

A blush blooms across his cheeks, crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, and he turns his head away, gaze dropping to the snow at his feet.

But he cannot hide the way his mouth quirks up at the corners, the way his eyes soften when he looks back at you, just for a moment. "You—you don’t have to say that," he murmurs, voice so quiet it almost disappears into the crisp morning air, but you shake your head firmly, sending snowflakes scattering like stars.

"Are you kidding me?" you laugh, spinning once more for good measure, the sweater flaring around you. "I’m going to wear this every single day," you declare, your hands smoothing over the uneven stitches with the kind of tenderness reserved for something sacred.

"It’s beautiful, Regulus! I don’t care what you say. I’ve never loved anything more."

There is something in your voice, something bright and unyielding and real, that makes him pause. His eyes flit back to yours, searching, waiting for the catch, for the punchline, for the hesitation that never comes. You are looking at him with so much light, so much unguarded joy, that it sends his heart stumbling in his chest, unsure of its rhythm.

He shifts his weight, a flicker of nerves flaring in his gaze, but you do not let him pull away—not this time. You catch his hand in yours, fingers curling around his with gentle insistence, grounding him there with you, in this moment. And for once, he does not resist. For once, he stays.

You press up on your toes, hands still clinging to his sweater, and you kiss him. Softly, sweetly, the kind of kiss that is more sunlight than heat, more promise than demand. His breath stutters, and he freezes for just a moment before he melts into you, the tension unraveling from his shoulders like loose threads.

When you finally pull back, your eyes are sparkling, cheeks dusted pink, and you’re still holding onto him as if you are afraid he might disappear with the snow.

"Thank you," you whisper, and it is so gentle, so full of something tender that he forgets how to breathe.

"You’re… you’re really going to wear it?" he asks, voice cracking just slightly at the edges.

Your laughter spills out, bright and unrestrained, tumbling over itself like sunlight streaming through fractured glass.

"Are you kidding? I’m never taking it off. Not even in the summer. I’ll suffer just to wear it," you declare, eyes shining with mischief, voice threaded with a warmth that cuts through the morning chill.

The words are exaggerated and dripping with dramatic flair, but you mean them, every last syllable. He must know you mean them too, because the blush that sweeps across his cheeks blooms all the way to the tips of his ears, spreading like wildflowers beneath the frost.

And you don’t.

Through frost-laced mornings where your breath fogs the air in delicate tendrils, through snow-dusted afternoons where the sky hangs heavy and gray, you wear that sweater like it is armor, like it is a piece of him you get to carry with you.

Even as the threads begin to pull loose, even as the sleeves fray and unravel at the edges, you wear it proudly, shoulders squared and chin held high. It becomes part of you, woven into your everyday

And every time Regulus sees you in it—bright and beaming amidst the gray wash of January, cheeks flushed with cold and eyes alight with joy—it is like watching sunlight crack through a frozen lake.

He will never say it, not in words, but the way his gaze softens, the way his shoulders ease just a little, is enough. You are enough.

What you do not know is that Regulus begins knitting another one. This time in secret, this time with softer wool that glides smooth and easy over his fingertips, this time with the precision and patience of someone who has learned that good things are always worth waiting for.

His hands work in steady rhythm, each loop and pull a silent promise, each stitch woven with the quiet hope that this one will be better, this one will be worthy of the way you beamed up at him like he had hung the very stars for you.

He does not rush. He takes his time, lets the winter days bleed into each other as he perfects the weave, his fingers aching and his brow furrowed in concentration.

He pictures you in it sometimes, wrapped in its warmth, cheeks flushed with that same bright joy, and it is enough to make him press on, enough to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, he can make something beautiful after all.

[astrobydalia]

Vietnamese astrology observations

Some observations on the Vietnamese astrology signs to celebrate the lunar new year. Disclaimer: these are based on observations and experiences from my pov as a dragon lmao As always credits to @novy2sirius for the inspo and knowledge of these things.

astrobydalia

🎋I've rarely seen Tigers getting married or having a relationship that lasted more than 1-2 years💀​💀 But the few ones that I've seen with stable marriages had spouses who were incredibly independent, someone who they admire and acts like they don't need/want the tiger person all that much. When tigers have these kinds of parters, they seem to be the most devoted and engaged in their relationships

​​💮​Tigers are highly attracted to danger (e.g. Mr Beast), sometimes to very concerning extents

​​💮​Tigers 🤝 having the attention span of an ipad kid. They like to command attention to themselves but don't like it when others demand their attention

​​💮​Which speaking of, Tigers ooze main character energy I’ve noticed. They are the star of the show and they know it. It's hard to not notice them in a room and honestly they really do have that 'it' factor, have this ‘unique’ energy to them (I think Lady Gaga is very representative of this vibe)

​​💮​My honest opinion on Tigers tho is that they’re annoying af, tend to be very abrupt and the kind of people who don’t know when it’s time to stop and stfu. Tiger men in particular I’ve noticed tend to say and do very inappropriate things often.... However I've seen older/more mature tigers that are pretty chill and simply have BDE

🎋Cats/Rabbits have beautiful smiles and a very youthful look to them. I’ve noticed however that they tend to smirk a lot, often appear cunning and mischievous cause they looooove messing with people, a lot of teasing and provoking. Very witty.

​​💮​Also, cats/rabbits are pretty horny and slutty. Even when they don't talk about sex at all their energy is very sensual, they come off as "easy" iykwim

​​💮​I’ve also noticed cats/rabbits have like some glow to them idk they look like this ✨🎀🪄 to me

🎋Horses are talented and really good at their job and crafts but they are also kinda bland and uninteresting tbh. On a surface level, they are cool cause they are rather playful, social and very engaging, they also have an approachable and warm aura. However they feel a lil vapid and superficial to me after some time. They don't look deeper into things and don't consider long-term consequences. They're also pretty aloof and inexpressive a lot of times

​​💮​Horses are very agile tho both mentally and physically. They are quick to respond to immediate or short-term situations/problems and I've also seen they are prone to be on the go 24/7

​​💮​I’ve also noticed horses tend to look strong, fit, muscular or in shape even when they don’t go to the gym

🎋I don't initially gravitate towards snakes but I always end up vibing with them incredibly well. Very profound, intelligent and insightful people. They have a lot of knowledge and wisdom about life. If you are looking to have philosophical convos they will totally deliver, both street smart+book smart

​​💮​It's extremely hard to get close to them on a personal level tho. They have sus energy and seem to hide a shit ton of things about themselves.

​​💮​Snakes are also very good at easing themselves into leading positions, they sneakily take charge of situations.

​​💮​Snakes have a wild side when underdeveloped tho. A lot of snakes I know are into conspiracy theories and/or are all about this idea of going against the system or the stablished rules but like in a very unhinged way. Tend to also make apparently mindless decisions that make ppl go "wtf are you doing?". In many cases they can become controversial af (e.g. Kanye, JK Rowling)

​​💮​Something I’ve noticed a lot with Snakes is that they tend to randomly ghost people. They’re the kind of people who you never really know where you stand with them unless y’all are super duper close. Tend be secretly very judgmental and have a very all-or-nothing mindset in their relationships (obsessive AF). They play A LOT of mind games with ppl all the time

🎋Both Tigers and snakes have difficult love lives and are prone to getting in abusive relationships. What I’ve seen with snakes in particular is that they tend to be the toxic and manipulative ones most of the times (e.g. Chris Brown). With tigers I've seen it go both ways but what stands out with them is that they tend to get in relationships where there is a MAYOR power imbalance in some way such as huge age gap or things like that (e.g. Amber Heard or Marylin Monroe). Tigers are attracted to forbidden people and that's also why they are the most prone to cheat

🎋RoostersI've noticed have very neat features, sharp jawlines, high cheekbones, nice lips, etc. They always look really snatched af and their bodies seem to have perfect proportions regardless of their body type.

​​💮​And yeah I've seen they are indeed the most arrogant out of all the signs here

🎋Both Snakes and Roosters are rather funny and sarcastic, but roosters pull it off more naturally. They guenienly have an unbothered and unserious vibe to them so humor comes to them effortlessly even when they don't try at all. With snakes it feels like they are intentionally trying to be punny so it doesn't land the same a lot of times

​​💮​A lot of roosters have memorable moments that become iconic memes😭:

​​💮​A lot of Roosters ik actually do not think of themselves as being funny or charming at all. They usually describe themselves as serious and hardworking

🎋Dragons have a very large and in charge personality, they often appear chill and normal at first glance but I’ve noticed they tend to be known for being unapologetic and highly expressive (Rihanna, Ryan Raynolds, Emma Stone, Adele, Kenue Reeves)

​​💮​When developed dragons quite literally and genuinely don’t give a fuck what people think, say or do to them. “Im just doing me” energy

​​💮​Dragons tend to enhance their own self-importance as a defense mechanism when they’re insecure tho. They might or might not be the most confident but they’d rather die than let others see that

​​💮​Dragons very often lack self-accountability or self awareness and tend to not handle conflict well. They are prone to having one-sided beef with people who aren't even thinking about them, I’ve seen this so much!!!!💀💀😭 It's giving:

​​💮​On that same line, Dragons tend to be advocates against mean or bad ppl I've noticed but this often manifests as them getting in personal vendettas about things that have absolutely nothing to do with them. So a lot of times all they're doing is causing a chaos nobody asked for

🎋Goats I wanna protect tf out of them. It's so hard to stay mad at them fr, they have the most endearing energy and they're very popular from what I've observed.

​​💮​When underdeveloped goats have the worst emotional intelligence and tend to be very emotionally volatile. Tend to take things personally very easily and make other people pay for their own issues

​​💮​Goats are the definition of a simp when in love or in a relationship. They LOVE romance and tend to be really good at it as well

​​💮​Goats are very soft spoken too!! I always find myself LOVING their voice or the way they speak, it's really soothing and hypnotic

🎋I honestly don’t like monkeys all that much, I can vibe with them cause we’re friend signs or whatever but they tend to be pretty childish, emotionally immature and self-centered imo. They can be very deep and intelligent but also fail to be responsible and take things seriously a lot of times

​​💮​The good side of them is that they are very creative and they are the type of person that never gets old to have around, they have many hidden talents

​​💮​Something else I like about Monkeys is they are really good with kids and are very family oriented. They truly love children and will prioritize the younger people in their life whether it’s their own kids, their siblings, etc

​​💮​I've also noticed Monkeys can be big big liars. They lie a lot and for no reason at all.

🎋Pigs aren't really all that ambitious, what they mainly want out of life is to live with as much comfort, ease and financial stability as possible and that's it. The good thing about this is that this can make them rather genuine people, not the type to have a hidden agenda or anything like that

​​💮​Pigs tend to be lazy but they can be hardworking at the same time. They drag their feet to do anything but when they finally bring themselves to put in the work they actually deliver great results. They are VERY financially smart too, you can count on them to get high-value and high-quality stuff

​​💮​Honestly pigs actually have a lot of potential, they can be very disciplined but their main thing is that they expect everything to be handed to them on a silver platter

​​💮​I’ve noticed pigs are very likable but also tend to be socially awkward at the same time. They're like that one introverted person everyone loves and wants in the group

🎋I don't vibe with oxes for some reason. They appear calm, unassuming and grounded but my god they are strategic, calculating and ruthless affff. Very self-righteous too, have a very unapproachable energy😭

​​💮​Oxes have a very harsh and cold “you gotta do what you gotta do” mindset and which can be really good but I think that's what I find the most unsettling about them. If you try to appeal to their more emotive side once they’ve set their mind on something they’ll look at you like this:

​​💮​Oxes are very disciplined and resilient tho. If people try to tear them down those people will fail miserably. Truly a force to be reconned with

​​💮​Oxes are super duper loyal too in EVERY aspect of their life, similar to dogs

​​💮​A lot of oxes that I've seen were surprisingly into occult as well or were into holistic forms of self-improvement. They can be very "zen" people

🎋Oxes and pigs are the most materialistic signs from what I've seen.

🎋Snakes and dragons are the biggest gatekeepers. Not just with material things but with anything that is valuable to them and gives them sense of power (think of the legends of dragons always guarding a treasure and the sneaky and secretive nature of snakes)

🎋Rats are usually very playful and energetic I’ve seen but in a more graceful and charming way. Very good entertainers and cool people to have around to be honest, another sign that tends to be popular.

​​💮​Rats seem to be all-rounders, very adaptable, fast learners and open-minded which is the main reason why I've seen they find success in the matrix.

​​💮​The main negative I’ve seen with rats tho is that they can be rather opportunistic and hypocritical but they hide this very well. They’re really good at sweet talking others and staying in people’s good graces. Very manipulative and deceitful, they can easily hide any ulterior motives and appear genuine to others

​​💮​A lot of Rats I know are interested in health and wellness in some way, having good hygiene, eating good food, working out, meditating, etc. Cooking in particular is a big thing with them I've noticed

🎋Dogs feel very mid to me….. I recognize they are MUCH more creative, intelligent and clever than horses imo but their go with the flow energy can make them very unoriginal or predictable.

​​💮​Dogs are also the definition of “same old story”. Strong tendency to stay stuck in the past, going back to their old ways and never really reinventing themselves

​​💮​The good thing about this tho is that its true dogs are loyal and consistent af tho, the kind of loyalty and devotion most people would only wish to find in someone and they are also peaceful, compromising and charming

​​💮​Dogs are very pretty too, they clean up nicely but I've noticed they tend to be super insecure about their image

​​💮​Dogs appear kind and trustworthy regardless of what kind of person they are deep down. Either they're genuinely very lawful and righteous people or very fake and phony, the type to smile to your face while planning to murder you in their heads

That's all folks!

astrobydalia

[oreganosbaby]

i know i'm not saying anything new but, sometimes ppl just don't think about things like transmisogyny as being systems. like, they'll just see it as hatred, descrimination, disgust, etc., and i think this allows for people to think things like "well, i don't hate trans women. i even have friends who are trans women. i'm not a trans misogynist! i want them to have equal rights and be treated fairly!" and then they'll continue to hold very trans misogynistic beliefs, openly express them and have those beliefs go unexamined so easily bc trans misogyny is largely considered the norm, unfortunately.