I Was Thinking To Myself Last Night That Unlike Many Cartoons From The 90s, Moomin Never Got A Shitty

my blorbo appears on screen and I start making clicking-chattering noises like a cat when a bird flies past the window

I might be rather fond of Adashino. From the Mushishi OVA.

I was definitely not ready for this

Aries sun/Virgo moon 👀

send your sun + moon signs and I’ll make a stereotype for you!!

fiery little go-getter with anxiety issues

“Love Is” In Small Things

you fucking know what’s up!

200x200 px lgbtn snufkin rat icons (flags cred.)

The Signs and Ruin:

Aries: A city in the center of a great river. The bridges long destroyed, the hanging gardens overgrown. An ancient and forbidden place. 

Taurus: Whats left of the old college. Taken by a summer flood and frozen in place when winter came. The basement library is still preserved under the ice.

Gemini: The prison ghetto. Eventually the slave ships stopped coming and the town overtook these hopeless stone walls. Cursed stone re-purposed into homes, basking in the light.

Cancer: A secluded, but stately manor. Iron gates still closed and sealed shut. The home within the walls is a burned husk. The garden flourishes in the ash.

Leo: A village left seemingly abandoned. The trees are all barren and fruitless. The sun seems dimmer here. 

Virgo: The dry caldera. Spires of a great forge still jut from the rock at an odd angles, like the masts of a sinking ship. Ore flues clogged with stone cool as the spring air.

Libra: The remains of an aqueduct. Pillars of stone and masonry dotting the fields of wildflowers. Nobody can remember where they got the water from, or where it went.

Scorpio: The bay of kings. Stone colossi stand with blades thrust into the surf. Their faces have been worn smooth by the years. None of the fishermen remember their names.

Ophiuchus: Low structures cut in the canyon walls. Stairways and boulevards like the paths of the river below. The remnants of stakes for rope bridges. 

Sagittarius: A tiny, crumbling amphitheater outside of town. A map of the heavens carved into the stage, carved by a different hand from the one who made the theater itself.

Capricorn: The city that tears the clouds, suspended between two mountains. Impossibly fine stonework, yet the windmills have long since rotted away. The air itself is thin here.

Aquarius: Dust storms on brass domes, spires overcome by sand. A low, ringing, song echoes over the dune seas. An elegy for something that should remain lost.

Pisces: Impossible walls of smooth, darkened stone jutting from the waves. Labyrinthine corridors wide enough for even the largest warships. Countless smashed hulls clog the unmapped waters.

— Зачем нужна вселенная, в которой нет чуда? Бараш х Лосяш х Совунья х Крош х Кар-Карыч х Пин х Нюша х Копатыч