Squeeze Me at Your Own Risk
“It’s just toothpaste,” Gary mumbled, shaking off his hangover like a wet dog shaking fleas. He squinted at the metallic tube beside the sink—dented, bulgin...
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Fifteen illustrated stories appear on each archive page, newest first.
The story archive
669 published tales
“It’s just toothpaste,” Gary mumbled, shaking off his hangover like a wet dog shaking fleas. He squinted at the metallic tube beside the sink—dented, bulgin...
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The Dirty Origins In a modest bathroom somewhere between “hipster chic” and “what the hell is that smell?”, a bar of soap had enough. Day in, day out, he was...
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Of Fur, Fire, and Fancy Curses In the quaint town of Bleakwood, nestled somewhere between “probably cursed” and “why is that forest always whispering?”, the...
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I had photographed the Arch a dozen times before. Early mornings, golden hours, even midday when the light flattened every line and shadow. But that night—th...
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The Sword Between Worlds The sky was bleeding fire and frost. Where the heavens ended and hell began, a rift had formed—a tear in the fabric of what mortals ...
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Frost, Chain, and Silence He stood at the gate long before the mountain was named. Before the forests whispered. Before the rivers learned their curves. Befo...
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The Snow Between the Stars They say the world was once a whisper — cold and formless, drifting in silence until the winds learned to howl. It was then that V...
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Wings, Whispers, and Way Too Much Sparkle “If you set one more fern on fire, I swear by the Moonroot Blossoms I will ground you until the next equinox.” “I d...
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The Dance Beneath Dying Stars The fog curled like fingers across the old courtyard stones, whispering secrets only the dead remembered. Candlelight, tremblin...
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The Trouble With Turpentine and Tails There once lived a pup with fur so swirled, so vibrantly chaotic, that art professors across the land either wept with ...
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The Silence That Screamed Back The snow didn’t crunch beneath her feet — it gasped. With every step, Lira walked like a secret looking for somewhere safe to ...
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In the quiet hours between dusk and nightfall, when shadows slither long and the wind hums forgotten names, the forest breathes with more than leaves. It was...
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Thistlewhump the Gnome was not your average garden variety gnome. While others spent their days polishing mushrooms or napping behind tulip stems, Thistlewhu...
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Of Eggs, Ego, and Exile Deep in the buttercream-scented meadows of Spring Hollow, far beyond the reach of grocery store egg dye kits and mass-produced chocol...
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The Midnight Kickstart It was quarter past midnight when the ground trembled under the neon-stained clouds of Feyridge. Somewhere between the scent of lavend...
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