MoonDust Crafts

MoonDust Crafts Handcrafted and handpainted items 🖤
Ghost Creator 👻
Made in Doncaster UK
https://moondustcraftsco.etsy.com

Lil Mushroom farmer ❤️🤍💚
20/04/2026

Lil Mushroom farmer ❤️🤍💚

Lil Mime finished 🖤🤍❤️
20/04/2026

Lil Mime finished 🖤🤍❤️

Lil Jester finished 😍😍 Made from clay and acrylic ❤️💙 had so much fun making this
19/04/2026

Lil Jester finished 😍😍 Made from clay and acrylic ❤️💙 had so much fun making this

The story of LiraThey called her Lira of the Crescent Moon.Every night she walked the cliffs, waiting for a lover who ne...
07/04/2025

The story of Lira

They called her Lira of the Crescent Moon.

Every night she walked the cliffs, waiting for a lover who never came. A ribbon of silver wrapped the sky, the sea whispered to the stones, but he never returned.

One night, under a sharp, pale crescent, Lira stepped too close to the edge. The wind pulled her sigh from her lips — and her body from the earth.

They say she fell like a petal from a broken flower.

Now, Lira drifts along the cliffs where the moon hangs low, her hair tangled with salt and starlight. She hums the song she once sang for him, a thin, aching thread of sound.

If you listen carefully, when the crescent moon sharpens the night, you might hear her voice — soft as sea-foam, sweet as sorrow — calling out for a love that was lost to the tides.

But she never finds him.

She only finds the stars.

The Story of OliverAt the far end of the world,where the cliffs fall like broken teeth into the sea,the Black Hollow Lig...
07/04/2025

The Story of Oliver

At the far end of the world,
where the cliffs fall like broken teeth into the sea,
the Black Hollow Light still stands.

It does not shine.
It remembers.

Inside, Oliver drifts through the spiral stair,
his hands brushing stone worn smooth by storms.
Once, he was a keeper —
steady, lonely, afraid to die forgotten.

One night, gold sang sweeter than duty.
He let the light go dark.
The ship shattered on the rocks,
the sea roared like a wounded beast,
and in the morning, only bones remained.
His own among them.

Now Oliver tends a flame that does not burn,
a light that no sailor should trust.

On misted nights, ships mistake the flicker for a welcome home.
They follow, eager, blind —
and the sea, patient and merciless,
opens its arms once more.

Above it all, Oliver weeps in a voice only the wind can hear,
calling down the years:
I am sorry.
I am sorry.
I am sorry.

But the sea never listens.

And neither do the dead.

The story of TheoLong ago, in the sleepy village of Willowmere, there lived a boy named Theo who loved apples more than ...
07/04/2025

The story of Theo

Long ago, in the sleepy village of Willowmere, there lived a boy named Theo who loved apples more than anything. Sweet ones, sour ones, even the little knobbly ones that no one else would touch.

One autumn, Theo found a strange apple tree deep in the forest. Its fruit gleamed like polished rubies, and without a second thought, Theo plucked the shiniest apple and took a bite.

The villagers said the tree was cursed. They were right.

Theo fell asleep under the twisted branches and never woke up.

But that wasn’t the end.

Now, Theo haunts Willowmere, a cheerful little ghost. He drifts through orchards, humming to the trees, and sometimes leaves half-eaten apples on doorsteps like little gifts.

If you see a glimmer of silver mist and smell sweet, sweet apples on the wind, it’s probably just Theo — looking for someone to share a snack with.

Just… don’t eat anything he offers you.

The story of EllisIn a quiet corner of village of Yorkshire, there was a bookshop called Whispering Pages. It was the ki...
07/04/2025

The story of Ellis

In a quiet corner of village of Yorkshire, there was a bookshop called Whispering Pages. It was the kind of place where the floorboards creaked in conversation and the smell of old paper lingered like a memory. Few knew that the bookshop had a secret: it was home to a ghost named Ellis.

Ellis wasn’t a frightening ghost. He was small and shy, a flickering candle balanced carefully on his head. No one knew why he wore the candle—maybe he had forgotten how to hold one, or maybe he simply liked the soft, golden light it cast as he floated between the aisles.

At night, when the last customer had left and the owner locked the door with a sigh, Ellis would drift from shelf to shelf, tidying the books. He loved the smell of the pages and the way stories buzzed quietly when no one was looking. Sometimes he would read aloud to the moths and the dust motes, his voice as soft as a breeze, the candle atop his head bobbing gently with each word.

One evening, a little girl named Lila wandered into the shop just as the sun dipped below the rooftops. She was looking for an adventure story, but when she saw Ellis floating near the poetry section, she gasped—not in fear, but in delight.

“You’re a ghost!” she said.

Ellis bobbed his head, a little embarrassed. “Only a very small one,” he whispered.

Lila giggled and asked about the candle. Ellis shyly explained that it helped him find his way through the stories. “Sometimes,” he said, “the best adventures are hidden in the dark.”

From then on, Lila visited every evening, and Ellis would help her pick the perfect book. Under the soft glow of his candle, they traveled through enchanted forests, sailed across silver seas, and explored forgotten kingdoms—all without ever leaving the bookshop.

And if you pass by Whispering Pages late at night, you might see a faint light bobbing between the shelves, and hear the low murmur of a ghost who never wanted to leave his favorite stories behind.

In the misty hills of Yorkshire, where the stone walls stitched the fields together and the sheep roamed like clouds, th...
06/04/2025

In the misty hills of Yorkshire, where the stone walls stitched the fields together and the sheep roamed like clouds, there was an old legend whispered in the market squares and by the firesides.

They said that if you wandered through the narrow lanes of the oldest villages, especially on a cold, drizzly evening, you might catch a glimpse of a figure—tall, wearing a long-beaked mask. A plague doctor.

But there was no need to be afraid. This ghost, known simply as Doctor Blackthorn, was the gentlest soul to ever haunt the earth.

Centuries ago, when the plague had swept through the countryside, Doctor Blackthorn had done his best to help the sick. He wasn’t like the others who fled in fear. He stayed, tending to the poor and lonely, tucking lavender and rosemary into his mask to shield himself from the sickness. He was shy even then, preferring to leave baskets of herbs and bottles of tonic on doorsteps rather than knock and face the weeping families.

When he passed on, the villagers buried him in the little graveyard behind the chapel, under an old yew tree. But some kindness is so strong, it lingers longer than a lifetime.

Now, on foggy nights, Doctor Blackthorn still walks the streets of Yorkshire.

He’s a quiet presence—you might hear the soft tap of his walking stick on the cobbles or catch a whiff of rosemary and woodsmoke as he drifts by. If someone is sick or sorrowful, they might find a small posy of herbs on their windowsill the next morning: thyme for courage, sage for healing, lavender for peace.

The villagers have learned not to fear him. Some of the elderly folk leave little offerings by the chapel tree: a cup of tea, a knitted scarf, a sprig of mint. They say it makes him smile behind his old mask, though no one has seen it for sure.

And so Doctor Blackthorn wanders on, a shy, quiet ghost, wrapped in mist and kindness, making sure no one is ever truly alone in the hills of Yorkshire.

At the end of a cobblestone street, in a town that always smelled like cinnamon and rain, sat a tiny bakery called Moss ...
06/04/2025

At the end of a cobblestone street, in a town that always smelled like cinnamon and rain, sat a tiny bakery called Moss and Maple. It was a warm, golden place where the windows were always fogged up and the shelves were stacked with pastries that looked too perfect to eat.

What most people didn’t know was that Moss and Maple had a secret: it was home to a very small, very cozy ghost.

Her name was Penny. Penny had lived in the bakery ever since it was just a dusty old cottage, long before the first pie had ever been baked. She loved the smell of fresh bread and buns, and floated around humming little songs. She smelled like sugar and vanilla.

During the day, Penny stayed out of sight, helping in small ways: she’d nudge a fallen spoon back onto the counter, sprinkle a little extra cinnamon into the morning buns, or make sure the sourdough rose just a little higher. The baker, a kind woman named Mara, always said the bakery had a touch of magic to it, though she didn’t know why.

At night, when the last crumb had been swept and the last teacup stacked, Penny came out. She’d twirl through the empty kitchen, dusting herself with flour until she looked like a little ghostly snowman. Sometimes, she made tiny ghost-sized pastries—perfect mini croissants and sugar cookies shaped like stars—and lined them up neatly on the windowsill for the morning.

The townsfolk loved coming to Moss and Maple, not just because of the pastries, but because it always felt... lighter there. Like no matter how heavy your heart was, a few minutes inside would melt it into something warm and sweet.

Some of the children said they saw a flicker of something soft and white by the oven, or heard a little giggle when the pies came out especially perfect. But no one ever felt afraid. After all, who could be scared of a ghost who smelled like honey?

And so Penny lived happily, baking and floating and humming, in her little bakery at the end of the cobblestone street—forever cozy, forever sweet.

Jareth The Goblin King Ghostie 👻Anyone else obsessed with Labyrinth? 😆Going to be making a matching Sarah one too 🥰
11/03/2025

Jareth The Goblin King Ghostie 👻
Anyone else obsessed with Labyrinth? 😆
Going to be making a matching Sarah one too 🥰

07/12/2024

👻COMPETITION👻
Win this cute lil candy corn ghostie 🖤
All you need to do is:
Like the page
Share the post
Tag 2 friends 🖤

Winner will be revealed at 1500 page likes 👻🖤
*UK only

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