A little prophecy. A little pyro.

When the laser understands your mental state better than your therapist. Mood badges for the neurospicy soul.

She asked for spice, I gave her Mousecore™

A little portal for those of us who wander between chapters and never quite return the same.

Two ravens, one hammer, and a whole lot of thunder. Huginn and Muninn are watching your back while Mjölnir clears the path.

Just because? More like just because chaos is a love language. Behold: the “Gnope, Not Today” talisman—perfect for warding off nonsense, bad vibes, and unsolicited plans.

Proof of concept? More like proof of wizardry. Designed-from-scratch Legend of Zelda point tracker, no template, just vibes and victory.

Nothing says “holiday spirit” like immortalizing your sibling’s weirdest hyperfixation in ornament form. Yes, that’s The Urbz. Yes, it has a hole. You're welcome.

Holographic horrorscopes for the neurospicy soul. Pick your vibe. Or let it pick you.

Your favorite fandoms, now in book-guarding gremlin form.

I never abandoned her. She was my only cube.

Organized chaos? No—this is curated obsession, magnetized.

Emotions? Processed. Patterns? Petty and poetic.

Craft room cryptid sighting #72. Do not attempt to retrieve pens without tribute.

The triangle is chaos. The cat is judgment. The Little Guy is mine. Welcome to my personal multiverse of nonsense and magic.

Some projects are therapy disguised as test pieces.

Grief is love with nowhere to go, but this gave it a place.

Do not be fooled by the tiny belt and majestic whiskers—The Little Guy holds ancient secrets and questionable snacks.

This deck reads you back—and roasts your situationship.

The mental health mascot we didn’t ask for but deeply relate to.

It’s not just anxiety, it’s ✨curated neurosis with a vintage flair

Bill says don’t monetize me. I said fine, but I’m keeping the earrings

Sublimation roulette: you win some, you bookmark some

Brother: 'Put this quote on anything.' Me: ‘Say less.’ Cue rose gold goth romance and my first-ever laser + spray paint experiment.

When your mom sends you cat pics and underestimates your sticker sorcery.

Lasered directly onto a leaf because reality is optional here

He insists it was performance art. I remain unconvinced.

Customer service intern. Paid in treats.

Assistant. Supervisor. Brand mascot. Chaos incarnate.

Same vibe. Less sparkle. Still supervised by Ghost.

Crafted with glitter, trauma, and caffeine.

If I fits, I ships. Probably with bonus glitter.

A little wood and light to help someone find their way back to shore.

Look closely and you’ll spot the real trauma: spelling it ‘truama’ on a finished piece. I left it for the lore.

Ghost, disrupting photo shoots since day one.

Proof that executive dysfunction occasionally yields waterproof serotonin stickers.