Latest Posts by moremysteries - Page 5

COPPER HOME RELEASED

itch.io

Copper Home by Summer Kid

Illustrated, Metaphorical And Interpretative, Short Story.

Itch.io Exclusive. Minimum Price: $1.00 | Suggested: $2.00 *All sales will be reinvested both in my University Tax and into my Self-Publishing Fund. Huge thanks in advance for viewing or buying and downloading the Copper Home PDF file!

IF YOU RUN INTO ANY ISSUES, PLEASE NOTIFY ME, PLEASE.

And here's a Funfact on this project:

substack.com

'COPPER HOME' Release

Illustrated, Metaphorical And Interpretative, Short Story.

Only Text Version At My KO-FI Shop, Priced: $0.22

Ko-fi

Copper Home [Text Only] - S.K Elena's Ko-fi Shop

"Something else moved: a bird. A dove with pale orange highlights landed on the fountain's head. Her head twitched from left to right, inspe

Also! If the price page gives you trouble changing the suggested price to the minimum: delete until it shows $0.00, write $0.001000 and backspace, then enter to move on to the next page /or/:

tagging a bunch of folks (no pressure to interact): @moremysteriesthantragedies , @pluttskutt , @druidx , @cheerfulmelancholies , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @ettawritesnstudies , @faelanvance , @dustylovelyrun ,

@deerwright , @aalinaaaaaa , @chauceryfairytales , @surroundedbypearls , @soupy8lowfish , @misswriteress

Writing with Sharks

Heyo! You want people to chat with about your WIPs? Or your OCs? Even your art? Come join me on discord. Let's make friends and get some writing done! I'll even be creating writing/art events or challenges through the year. Advice will be posted, references, I even do research for people in need of it. I have channels for daily prompts or challenges. Need feedback? There's a spot for that too!

bitchmysteries

replace one word of your url with bitch

I need your opinions on what story to work on next!

Choice A: Chel's story [unnamed atm]. She's a Hunter that fights demons with holy water guns and salt filled hula-hoops while skating on inline skates and playing AC/DC on one side of the tape in her walkman, and exorcisms on the other side of the tape. Chel's lover is possessing her pet marmoset that she named after him after they saved it together, but it turns out that her lover was a nephilim who lost his physical form temporarily and he can't reform until she figures out that she needs to erase the sigils blocking him from doing so that's carved into her walls to protect her from various mythological creatures from entering her home. She later becomes an Archivist and a central hub of information for Hunters all over the country.

Choice B: [unnamed atm] The story of the school with animal familiars (basically when you hit puberty, you get the ability to speak to a specific type of animal - crows, house cats, horses, etc.) and there's this guy that can talk to house cats and his dad can talk to horses, a girl that talks to ravens, and the school is divided into prey and predators. The girl with the ravens ends up with a network of spies through the city because the ravens see everything and report back to her.

Choice C: The Blind Piano Player Girl [aka Tea and Treason] who is shipped off to her uncle's house (he's a general in the American army during the war for independence) and her father was a composer that was secretly making codes in his music and teaching them to his daughter. Everyone thought he was just a failed musician because his music sucked ass, but when you decipher it, it's plans he smuggled from the British side of the lines and only she has the key. But she's blind and everyone think's she's useless. She ends up being able to smell when people are smuggling things they aren't supposed to (like drugs in the tea to poison people in charge) and can trace it back to who touched it because they have it on their hands. Her uncle uses her to turn the tide of the war.

Writing update 5/8/2025

It's time for another writing update. Still working on Every Hero Needs a Villain, my object head project. I'm making my way through the character bios. I am trying to just get the basics down, then I'll go over them again and add more personality. Here's Spark's description, because I thought it was cute:

They have a gently yellow and ruffled lamp shade with a lighter and brighter light bulb on their head. They typically wear a skirt that matches paired with a lighter blouse or suit top. Their clothes typically having a shimmering or glittery component to them. They sometimes wear different lamp shades for different effects, having a particular fondness for colorful glass lamp shades for special events, or cloth dotted lamp shades when they're feeling cute. Sometimes they don't even wear a lamp shade for emphasis.

I definitely want to edit it for readability, but so far so good! I hope to have all the bios down by the end of the week, and will notify y'all on Sunday if this is the case.

Taglist: @aweirdshipp, @floofyboi57, @aralithmenathere

One of these days

One of these days I'm going to read all the books I want to read

One of these days I'm going to watch all the shows I want to watch

One of these days I'm going to play all the games I want to play

One of these days I'm going to get all my work done on time

One of these days I'm going to write everything I want to write

One of these days I'm going to text back everyone who texted me

One of these days I'm going to stop crying myself to sleep

One of these days I'm going to stop missing the mother that was never there

One of these days I'm going to stop being scared

One of these days I'm going to tell them what really went wrong

One of these days I'm going to stop drowning my feelings in songs

One of these days I'm going to stop being afraid of dancing

One of these days I'm going to stop being afraid of talking

One of these days I'm going to stop being afraid of thinking

One of these days I'm going to stop being afraid of feeling

One of these days

One of these days

One of these days

Which day?

There's always another day

Until there isn't

Then what?

Nothing?

I don't know

I'm scared to find out

But when I do

There won't be an endless flood of days anymore

Overwhelming days

Normal days

Overwhelmingly normal days

Every day is overwhelming

Some because they pass

Some because they don't

One of these days I'll stop being afraid of endings.

miss me w that

Writing update 5/8/2025

It's time for another writing update. Still working on Every Hero Needs a Villain, my object head project. I'm making my way through the character bios. I am trying to just get the basics down, then I'll go over them again and add more personality. Here's Spark's description, because I thought it was cute:

They have a gently yellow and ruffled lamp shade with a lighter and brighter light bulb on their head. They typically wear a skirt that matches paired with a lighter blouse or suit top. Their clothes typically having a shimmering or glittery component to them. They sometimes wear different lamp shades for different effects, having a particular fondness for colorful glass lamp shades for special events, or cloth dotted lamp shades when they're feeling cute. Sometimes they don't even wear a lamp shade for emphasis.

I definitely want to edit it for readability, but so far so good! I hope to have all the bios down by the end of the week, and will notify y'all on Sunday if this is the case.

Taglist: @aweirdshipp, @floofyboi57, @aralithmenathere

spin the wheel and assign an animal to prev

Writing update 5/8/2025

It's time for another writing update. Still working on Every Hero Needs a Villain, my object head project. I'm making my way through the character bios. I am trying to just get the basics down, then I'll go over them again and add more personality. Here's Spark's description, because I thought it was cute:

They have a gently yellow and ruffled lamp shade with a lighter and brighter light bulb on their head. They typically wear a skirt that matches paired with a lighter blouse or suit top. Their clothes typically having a shimmering or glittery component to them. They sometimes wear different lamp shades for different effects, having a particular fondness for colorful glass lamp shades for special events, or cloth dotted lamp shades when they're feeling cute. Sometimes they don't even wear a lamp shade for emphasis.

I definitely want to edit it for readability, but so far so good! I hope to have all the bios down by the end of the week, and will notify y'all on Sunday if this is the case.

Taglist: @aweirdshipp, @floofyboi57, @aralithmenathere

Reblog to make him lose another 200 billion, like to make him lose 1 billion

Writing update 5/8/2025

It's time for another writing update. Still working on Every Hero Needs a Villain, my object head project. I'm making my way through the character bios. I am trying to just get the basics down, then I'll go over them again and add more personality. Here's Spark's description, because I thought it was cute:

They have a gently yellow and ruffled lamp shade with a lighter and brighter light bulb on their head. They typically wear a skirt that matches paired with a lighter blouse or suit top. Their clothes typically having a shimmering or glittery component to them. They sometimes wear different lamp shades for different effects, having a particular fondness for colorful glass lamp shades for special events, or cloth dotted lamp shades when they're feeling cute. Sometimes they don't even wear a lamp shade for emphasis.

I definitely want to edit it for readability, but so far so good! I hope to have all the bios down by the end of the week, and will notify y'all on Sunday if this is the case.

Taglist: @aweirdshipp, @floofyboi57, @aralithmenathere

I really want to write a short WIP celebrating how important, helpful, and wonderful sexual alters can be in a system when the host has experienced sexual abuse, I just dont know how. I always struggle with coming up with a concrete story for these things.

The Crimson Bride was sort of that (for those who may be interested in it). But I want something more character focused over symbolism focused, if that makes sense. Something that celebrates that type of system connection.

Intro post ₍^. .^₎⟆

♡: My name's Laila.

♡: I'm 18 years old, and I've been a writer for 3 years.

♡: I made this blog to meet writer/artist friends, advertise my works, and make helpful posts!

♡: I love angst and making my characters suffer.

♡: I enjoy making Spotify playlists and Pinterest boards for my stories and ocs, which I will totally be sharing on my blog once I'm happy with them!

♡ My current WIPs are ♡:

-Silver / I [Remastered]

-Emerald / II

-Leonardo

-Chess is a Game for Six

-Warfarin

-Psychology 101

-A+ [Remastered]

♡ My published works are ♡:

-Silver / I

-A+

(but i dont like either of them so I'm rewriting (ᵕ—ᴗ—))

Find me on wattpad and discord with the same username!

(enlightened-feline and enlightened.feline)

Navigate through my blog using the following tags:

-🌸wips

-🌸rbs

-🌸polls

-🌸writing tips

-🌸daily reminders

-🌸sillies

-🌸prompts

That's all! Bye now sillies ≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼

The worst thing is that there is so much potential for exploring the horror of psych wards from the angle of medical abuse, ableism, forced treatment/drugging, loss of autonomy, power imbalance, demonization, dehumanization, etc, and YET the horror genre keeps defaulting to "insane asylums and psych wards are scary because there are mentally ill people in there"

👀👀 not gonna name names but SOME of u are sweet and kind and deserve the world and i am rooting for u

Teenage Wasteland, Chap. 3 - Come On Kids

[Author's Note: A more transitional chapter where I wanted to introduce one more of the last major characters. Enjoy!]

As the blazing South Carolina sun, a fiery orb in the cloudless, azure sky beat down on the Earth below, Tegan ignored Miss April Stauch’s droning lecture—the final, stifling school day of the year held zero interest to her. Her gaze, instead, snapped to the gym class outside, a blur of motion circling the soccer field. Specifically, she watched Samantha. Sweat plastered her mid-thigh shorts and white Hillcrest High shirt, clung to every curve in a way that made Tegan’s breath catch. A soft sigh escaped from her lips, with the sudden silence amplified the sound in the hot, still classroom, which drew every eye to her.

“Miss Tegan, just because it is the last day of the school year does not mean this isn’t important,” Miss Stauch admonished, but it did little to bring about Tegan’s focus.

The absolute drag of a day dragged on further and further, and despite Samantha and Tegan sharing many classes, they did not share these last two periods. That while Tegan spent the rest of her time this school year watching the clock, and then that last bell finally rung. She nearly sprinted out of the classroom—everyone else be damned. Grabbed everything important from her locker; most notably a bag of weed she got from her new friend, Robin. Who had quickly become a close friend to the pair and a band member for the Starstruck Queer. Though she lived on the other side of town, closer to Fountain Inn, she played the drums and was in the grade above them, even though she was sixteen and held back last year. And luckily for the trio, she also had an old Chevy van and had a license.

“Hey!” called out Robin, whose bright rainbow-colored hair flowed down to her broad shoulders, and the leather vest wrapped around her slightly-chubby torso, patched over with all the queer flags that could fit. Not to mention all the band patches: Bikini Kill, Metallica, Talking Heads, and even a few Blondie ones.

Just beside her stood the beautiful Samantha, who held her backpack from its handle. A happy, if tired, expression crossed her face. “I saw you staring at me during gym class,” she commented with a sly smile that brightened up her features and creased her eyebrows.

“Ready to get out of here?” Robin asked, as her car keys dangled between her fingers with a slight clinking of metal.

“Fuck yeah, I’m tired of this place and everyone in it. Don’t ever want to come back,” Tegan replied, slamming her locker door shut. Stuffing the actual combination lock into her bag.

Samantha yanked on Robin’s arm. “Plus, we need to go get some food and go jam, ya know? I feel like we’re finally getting into the grove, into the pocket, ya know?”

“Hell, you’ve improved so much,” Tegan complimented her girlfriend, not caring who saw them walking down the hallway hand-in-hand. A few sideways glances and mumbled words, just out of earshot, were always present, but neither cared.

“Those tapes you got me really helped,” Sam hummed, her lips brushed against Tegan’s cheek, a feather-light touch. The faint scent of vanilla from Tegan’s hair helped hide the stench of the un-air-conditioned air. Robin’s powerful arms, who smelled faintly of weed, encircled them both in a warm embrace, her laughter a low, comforting rumble.

“We’ll get some Sonic burgers and shakes. Then we need to start working on some original songs, yeah? Now speaking of buzz—”

Before she could finish her thought, the Oakley twins—Lisa and Robert—sauntered up, radiating an aura of superiority and false righteousness. Their clothes, impeccably-tailored Tommy Hilfiger, told of the wealth their parents had, and Tegan always wondered why they didn’t go to the private schools in Greenville. Robert’s hair, bleached blonde and spiked in such an absurd way, made her think of a hedgehog; the image brought a silent giggle to her lips.

“Well, if it isn’t the queer squad of Simpsonville,” Lisa laughed at her own joke. “Father says people like you are going to burn in hell. He even says we used to take fags and dykes, and hang ‘em from the railroad bridge down off Lake Harris.”

“Fuck off,” Samantha shot back. “You are just cookie-cutter bitches. Looking like every other unimaginative poser jackass."

Doing her best to direct the pair away from the bullies, Robin shot looks at the twins, who kept egging them on and on. As they kept following the trio, the twins directed insult after insult towards them.

“Hey, unwanted girl, you’re not a dyke, right?” Lisa pushed Tegan’s shoulder from behind, which had Tegan clenching both her jaw and fists. “You pretend to also like guys, right? Or is it that you actually just like guys, but no one wanted you, right?”

Tegan didn’t reply. She did her best to just walk away, to take the higher road. Breathing increasing, thoughts ran through her head at a thousand miles per hour. Not too long ago, she would have struck out against this bully. It’s the last day of school; why not just escape from these confines?

Lisa continued, pushing against Tegan’s shoulder again despite her brother’s protests to stop. “Like your piece of shit mother who left you at the orphanage, she couldn’t even stand you. So, instead of being alone forever. You decide to get with the local dyke, right?”

“Not everyone opens their legs for anything with a dick!” Samantha growled, her face turning a bright red, her fists clenched and veins bulging.

“Too ugly and unwanted for a proper boyfriend, is that it? I think I figured you out,” Lisa mocked, pushing Tegan once more. Samantha moved to stop, but Robin held Sam in place. Sam gave Robin a look but remained silent.

“Come on, just ignore her,” Robin tried her best to soothe the pair. “Let’s just get out of here. Fuck them. Not worth the problems.”

“At least Samantha and Robin are dykes. They know what they are. What the fuck are you, orphan bitch? Just some unwanted girl who had to settle for a—” Lisa had no chance to finish her insult. She had gone on far-too-long.

Turning on her heels, and using all her weight, Tegan punched Lisa right in her Romanesque nose as hard as she could. A clear crunch shook her hand and forced the smaller teen backwards into the arms of her twin brother. Much like a broken dam, there came forth a deluge of blood that covered Lisa’s face and onto her name-brand shirt. Before either twin could react, or even a teacher, the three ran out into the hot early summer. Teachers hot on their tail, but they didn’t follow them out into the parking lot. Lisa did have a reputation for running her mouth.

“Whoa, babe, that was fucking awesome!” Samantha shouted her praise as the pair slid into the van’s side door. Slamming it shut behind them.

The inside of the van was bare, stripped of the seats that were in here. Just a thick green-brown carpet, and some party lights strung across the ceiling. They lit up into a kaleidoscopic color array that would enrapture Tegan whenever they got high, which had been as often as they could afford to do so. As the engine rumbled to life and the whole van came to life with low vibrations that ran through Tegan’s every fiber.

Her adrenaline ran quickly and fast, her blood churned as thick as mud deep in her chest. Breathing still quickened, needing to be caught but cannot be. Samantha wrapped a sweaty arm around her girlfriend, pulling Tegan closer. They shared a quick kiss. Then, it became deep, passionate, as if they’ll never kiss one another again. A fleeting moment in Heaven was better than none. Because it ended quickly with a loud cough from Robin.

“Hello, I’m still here and single!” Robin called out from the driver’s seat.

Samantha’s full-bodied laugh, a rich, throaty sound, echoed through the van as she crawled towards the back. Dusty air, thick with the scent of old canvas and faint motor oil and gasoline, filled her nostrils as she reached a hidden compartment—Tegan watched her as she pulled up the carpet to show a roughly-cut hole underneath Robin’s handiwork. A makeshift shelf, yet fully-bolted in, nestled above the rumbling machinery, held a treasure: an antique cigar box. Its aged wood and rusted hinges creaked and groaned as Sam opened it, released a pungent wave of stale weed. Inside, nestled in a crinkled sandwich bag, was the sought-after prize: dark, sticky buds, a crisp pack of rolling papers, a metallic smoking pipe, and a lighter with a peace symbol on it. Her fingers were nimble and well-practiced, she rolled a joint, the stems and seeds clunk softly as she tossed them back into the box. And tossed each one back inside. With a pat to secure the carpet, their secret tucked away once again.

They didn’t smoke the joint as they drove. No, that would be an invitation for those small-town cops—always patrolling and waiting for some teenager to fuck up—to harass them, then arrest them, or, at the least, drive them home and talk to their parents. It was far too risky. Instead, after the fatty burgers and sugary sweetness of Sonic’s drive-through faded, Robin drove them to Simpsonville Park’s far side, away from the graveyard’s somber stillness and the busier section with its cheerful cacophony of children’s laughter and the crack of baseball bats from the always busy baseball fields. Partially hidden by a thick copse of oak and maple trees, their haven felt secluded, a hushed sanctuary from the town’s watchful gaze. No one came out here.

“So, I got some lyrics written up,” Tegan said as she leaned against the metal wall of the van. Joint between two short fingers, she took a long draw and held it in as she passed it onward. But she coughed it out just a quick; a headiness overtook her and planted a smile across her face.

Robin sat beside Tegan; legs crossed beneath her. As she took the joint and took her own hit before passing it to Samantha. “Well, sing it for us! No need to be shy. We’re best friends and bandmates, right?”

The mere idea of singing made Tegan sweat; hot beads prickled her forehead, her palms itched with a nervous tremor, her mouth as dry as parchment. The simple act, once effortless during their jam sessions, now loomed, a daunting, almost impossible task. “Right now?” she stammered, the words caught in her dry throat.

Samantha’s reassuring hand rested on Tegan’s knee, rubbing it softly in small circles. “Nah, not right now, babe. Just, well, do you have the lyrics? We’d love to go over it. Just promise us you’ll sing it later.”

Tegan nodded and dug in her backpack until she pulled out an old, creased notebook. “Yeah, when we get back to your place and jam out. I’ll sing my heart out. It feels so embarrassing to do so as we get high in the van.”

“Oh, these are quite good,” Samantha remarked as she flipped through the pages of the notebook. “There’s, like, a dozen songs in here. We could have our whole first album in here. Actually, I take it back. These are wonderful. ‘Forgotten’ is so angry, but I feel it. ‘Jubilee and Me’ is so lovely.”

“Lemme see, lemme see.” Robin snatched the notebook, pursuing its pages.

Robin quietly read each page, stopped on one for a moment, then moved to another. Saying not a word, even waving off the last little bit of the joint. She didn’t look up; no, she was so engrossed to where Tegan and Samantha exited the hot van to leave the older teen to her reading that Robin didn’t notice.

A strong breeze rustled the bright green leaves of the surrounding trees. Under their heavy boughs, where squirrels scampered and birds sung, was a large boulder that showed the scars of dozens of teens who have visited it. Several names etched onto its rough surface, many proclamations of love and lust—graffiti of all sorts. Littered with empty beer and soda cans, cigarette butts dotted the dirt. Ground in by weeks and months of different shoes of those who came here for some peace and quiet.

“Lisa Oakley pisses me off so much,” Tegan let out a huff. “On the last day of school, too. The second or third best day of the year. Maybe fourth. Well, I guess fifth now with your birthday involved.”

“Dork,” Samantha joked. “She’s a nobody. Destined to have a shitty life of Sunday church, three-and-a-half kids, and unsatisfying sex.”

Robin handed Tegan the notebook and climbed up the walk beside the couple. “Dude, your songs are awesome. We need to put them to music. Like as soon as possible. Need to come down a bit before I’ll drive, but yeah, we gonna play one of these today. Just pick one.”

Tegan took it to heart, as she went through every song in her notebook. The other two distracted themselves like they did every time they got high. Breaking down into the two of them talking about whatever happened on WWF Raw of WCW Nitro, which wrestler was the best, or which show was better. Tegan held zero interest in it. Instead, she wrote a song about how Samantha made her feel on that night those weeks ago.

“That’s it,” Tegan said after some time. “Come on, let’s go jam. I’m feeling it.”

Samantha hopped off the boulder. “Oh, she’s feeling it, eh? This is going to be good.”

“Yeah, let’s get to it. We’ll play until Sam’s parents throw us out.” Robin laughed and climbed into the driver’s seat. Tegan joined her in the passenger’s side. The dash held only a cassette player with a recordable cassette of songs that Robin had copied from the radio. She pushed it in and cranked up the volume.

The van’s engine rumbled to life; a deep growl vibrated through the floorboards as Robin steered them toward the other side of Simpsonville. Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” distorted and crackling, filled the van. As the short drive got closer to Sullivan road, there came the sudden appearance of several black, ominous clouds, blotting out the sun. A heavy, humid blanket clung to the air, thick and cloying, as a gusty wind whipped around the van, which made the trees lining Sullivan Road to sway and thrash about, their leaves rustled like whispered secrets that Mother Nature refused to give up.

Samantha’s parents were kind enough to let Robin store her drum kit—a gleaming green set—in the garage, which they otherwise used only for storage. The pitter-patter of rain against the roof and the driveway formed a natural rhythm as Tegan came upon the corner where the V-shaped guitar and her very own bass guitar, lovingly-covered in a soft, grey sheet, sat. The faint scent of old wood and stale polish lingered around them. On an almost daily basis, the trio practiced, which echoed the rhythmic thud of drums and the twang of strings throughout the neighborhood. Now, with school out, the trio planned hours of practice every single day, as Tegan declared, “until we are too good to be ignored,” her words sharp and determined.

****

Tag List:

@fablesandfragments @seastarblue @vesanal @theink-stainedfolk @leahnardo-da-veggie

@aalinaaaaaa @an-indecisive-nerd @write-with-will @the-ellia-west @carb0n-m0n0xide

@inadequatecowboy @kitkins13 @watermeezer @shepardstales @bardic-tales

@dyrewrites

Send me a message someway somehow, maybe reply to this post, if you want to be put on the tag list!

Reblog to give the person you reblogged from the ability to finish their WIPs

The artist who made my profile picture! Definitely worth the commision.

Hey y’all! Due to some life circumstances, just taking this moment to remind y’all that I have commissions opened!

Additional Characters +$5

Background +$5 (Or more depending on complexity)

Shading/Lighting +$7

TOS:

I will draw:

Furries

Humans

Canon Characters

OC’s

Selfships

Ship art

Won’t Draw:

Pedophilia

Anything Political

Gore

Mecha

Art Examples:

Characters used in the second and third image belong to my friend @morgan-va

REBLOG IF IT'S OKAY FOR ME TO BOTHER YOU IF YOU'RE MY MUTUAL

like/reblog if u are:

a bitch

a bastard

an all around fool

an omnipresent all-powerful being

a sparrow

c̵͙̳͕̈͛ụ̷̔r̸̗͎̽̓͗͜s̴̨̈́̿͘e̸͍̰̜͊̈́d̵̛̫̙͍͝͝

capable of moving at immense, incomprehensible speeds

an eldritch being

no one will know which one u chose! :D

ME @ ALL THE WRITERS I FOLLOW.

wheres the smiling blackfoot family i want to see the smiling blackfoot family

If this isn't a mood idk what is lol.

I can normally picture my characters in my head really easily, but the villain of my current WIP was eluding me until today. I kept getting stuck trying to describe him. Some brainstorming with my writing group finally gave me an idea of what he should look like. Unfortunately, now that I can see him, I am, predictably, in love with him

Ooo I loved this! It gave me the chills. It felt so visual to, I could just visualize each scene.

— An extra-narrative writing exercise based on my work, The Taste of Hallowed Earth

Heyo! You want people to chat with about your WIPs? Or your OCs? Even your art? Come join me on discord. Let's make friends and get some writing done! I'll even be creating writing/art events or challenges through the year. Advice will be posted, references, I even do research for people in need of it. I have channels for daily prompts or challenges.

behold, honse

went through a lascaux horse phase and the results are uhhhh *checks list* bumper stickers, bookmark, sticker sheet, and die cut sticker

[shop] - honses will be released into the wild on May 3 (2025)

Actually being a little guy? Nah. Little guy status is all you need. /lh

I'm late but happy world building wednesday! Any favorite animals who've created or modified for your story?

I'm late to answer, as always xD

I think the massive spiders in The Poison Complex, or maybe the radiation squirrels that are still really jumpy like they're not the size of rabbits and as fast as a cheetah. They still have little guy status. In my heart.