The Enchanted Lounger

[Danielle]

The Enchanted Lounger

The bell above Mystic Relics gave a tired jingle as Maeve Dawson shoved through the door, her boots kicking up a small storm of dust from the worn wooden floorboards. The shop smelled like old books, lemon polish, and something faintly metallic—probably the rusting collection of antique farm tools hanging behind the counter.

Maeve wasn't here to browse. She was hiding.

From Tammy Jo Harkness and her pack of giggling hyenas, who'd thought it was hilarious to "accidentally" spill an entire milkshake down Maeve's back in the school parking lot twenty minutes ago. From Principal Hendricks, who'd just sighed and handed her a wad of paper towels instead of disciplining Cedar Hollow High's golden girl. From the entire godforsaken town that seemed determined to make her senior year a living hell.

The shop was empty except for Old Man Holloway, who peered at her from behind a precarious stack of yellowed National Geographic magazines. His overalls were stained with what might've been coffee or motor oil, and his beard looked like it housed at least one nesting bird.

"Tammy Jo again?" he asked, not even looking up as he flipped through a ledger.

Maeve scowled. "Do you have security cameras or are you just psychic?"

"Neither." Holloway tapped his temple. "Small town. Gossip travels faster than the 4:15 train to Des Moines." He jerked his chin toward the back of the shop. "Got something new in. Might take your mind off things."

Maeve didn't move. "Is it going to explode?"

"Not unless you sit on it wrong."

The Chair, it sat in the corner like a throne someone had forgotten to crown—plush burgundy velvet, ornate wooden arms carved with strange symbols, and a seat cushion that...

Maeve leaned closer.

There was a face in the fabric.

Not a pattern. Not embroidery. A depression, as if someone had pressed their features into the cushion hard enough to leave a permanent impression. The hollows for eyes, the slope of a nose, even the faint imprint of lips.

Her fingers hovered an inch above the velvet.

"Oh thank God."

Maeve yanked her hand back so fast she nearly toppled a display of ceramic gnomes. The voice had been muffled, but unmistakable—and it had come from the chair.

The cushion rippled.

"You can hear me, right? Please tell me you can hear me."

Maeve's mouth went dry. "What the hell?"

The chair sighed, the fabric shifting like a living thing. "Okay. Okay, don't freak out. My name's Lila-Beth McCallister. I was a junior at Cedar Hollow High until my aunt Miriam cursed me into this stupid chair last March."

Maeve's brain short-circuited. "You're... a chair."

"Not by choice," Lila-Beth huffed. "And before you ask—yes, I know how insane this sounds. But I can prove it." The cushion bulged slightly, and suddenly Maeve was staring at a pair of very human hazel eyes blinking up at her from the velvet. "See? Not a hallucination."

Maeve's knees buckled. She caught herself on a nearby shelf, sending a taxidermied squirrel wearing a tiny cowboy hat crashing to the floor.

"Look, I know this is a lot," Lila-Beth said, her voice softening. "But I've been stuck like this for months. Holloway's the only one who can hear me, and he says he's 'too old for curse-break-in'.' I need your help."

Maeve swallowed hard. "How?"

The chair went suspiciously quiet.

"You're not gonna like it."

The Terms of the Curse

Ten minutes later, Maeve was pretty sure her face had permanently turned the same shade as the chair's velvet.

"Let me get this straight," she said, voice strained. "To break the curse, I have to sit on you. Naked. For a full hour."

"Skin-to-fabric contact," Lila-Beth confirmed. "And once you sit down, your clothes disappear until the curse breaks. It's part of the magic."

Maeve buried her face in her hands. "This is the worst day of my life."

"Try being furniture for three months," Lila-Beth muttered. "You have no idea how many people pick their noses when they think no one's watching."

Holloway chose that moment to amble over, a knowing smirk on his face. "Miriam's work, that is. Nasty piece of magic, but thorough." He tapped the chair's armrest, where faint letters were carved into the wood. "'The flesh-bound shall remain unclothed, lest the magic comes undone.' Poetry."

Maeve glared. "You're enjoying this."

"Damn right, I am." He tossed her a CLOSED sign. "Best flip this if you're gonna get nekkid in my shop."

The Decision

Maeve stared at the chair. The chair (Lila-Beth) stared back.

This was insane.

But then she thought about Tammy Jo's smug face. About how nothing in this town ever changed. About how maybe—just maybe—freeing a girl from a cursed chair was the most interesting thing that would ever happen to her in Cedar Hollow.

"One hour," Maeve said, grabbing the sign.

Lila-Beth's eyes lit up. "One hour."

The lock clicked behind Holloway as he left.

Maeve took a deep breath.

And started unbuttoning her flannel.

Maeve’s fingers trembled as she unbuttoned the last button of her flannel. The air in the shop was thick with dust and something else—something electric, like the charged silence before a summer storm.

"You’re stalling," Lila-Beth said.

Maeve scowled. "I’m contemplating my life choices."

She peeled the flannel off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. The faded band tee underneath followed, and then her jeans kicked off with more force than necessary. Her socks were last, peeled away to reveal chipped black nail polish on her toes.

Then came the hard part.

Maeve hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear, hesitated, then—

"For the love of corn, Dawson, it’s not like I haven’t seen a naked girl before," Lila-Beth groaned.

"Shut up," Maeve hissed, her face burning. She stepped out of her underwear and stood there, arms crossed over her chest, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of her bare skin. The shop’s air was cool against her thighs.

The chair waited.

Maeve exhaled. "Okay. Okay, let’s just—get this over with."

She turned, hesitated again, then sat down in one quick motion.

The second her skin touched the velvet, three things happened:

Her clothes vanished. Not faded, not dissolved—poof, gone, like they’d never existed.

The chair moved. The velvet rippled beneath her, warm and alive, adjusting to cradle her body.

Lila-Beth moaned.

"Ohhh shit," Lila-Beth gasped, her voice shuddering. "That’s—hah—that’s way more intense than I thought it’d be."

Maeve stiffened. "What the hell does that mean?"

"The spell," Lila-Beth painted. "It’s like—like I can feel you. Everywhere. Your heartbeat, your breathing—oh God, are you blushing? I can feel that too—"

Maeve nearly launched herself off the chair. "Nope. Nope, we are not doing this—"

"Wait!" Lila-Beth’s voice turned desperate. "If you get up now, the spell resets! We’ll have to start all over!"

Maeve froze, halfway off the chair. "You’re kidding."

"Do I sound like I’m kidding?"

Maeve groaned and sank back down. The velvet molded to her thighs was warm and strangely comforting.

Silence.

Then—

"So," Lila-Beth said, her voice sly. "You were blushing."

Maeve groaned louder.

The Hour Begins and in minute 7: Maeve discovers the chair has a purring function when she shifts her weight just right. Lila-Beth denies this vehemently ("It’s a vibration spell, you ass—").

Minute 19: The shared sensations grow stronger. Maeve yelps when an itch on Lila-Beth’s phantom nose makes her nose twitch.

Minute 34: A warm, tingling sensation starts pooling low in Maeve’s stomach—and not from her. "Lila-Beth. What the hell is that." "I don’t know, okay? Magic’s weird!"

Minute 42: Maeve’s skin begins emitting a soft pink glow wherever it touches the chair. "Oh, great," she mutters. "Now I’m a glowstick."

Minute 51: Their heartbeats synchronize. Maeve feels Lila-Beth’s pulse thudding alongside her own, a strange, intimate rhythm.

Minute 58: A thump from the back room. Holloway’s voice drifts through the door: "Y’know, Miriam always did like an audience." Maeve shrieks and tries to cover herself—only to remember her clothes are gone.

Minute 59: The air crackles. Golden light spills from the chair’s seams.

Minute 60:

The world explodes.

Maeve crashes forward—not onto hardwood, but onto warm skin.

She blinks.

Lila-Beth McCallister—human, whole, and very naked—blinks back up at her from the floor.

Their clothes stay gone.

From somewhere in the shop, Holloway cackles.

"Told ya."

The floor of Mystic Relics was cold against Maeve's bare knees. She stared down at Lila-Beth—real, human, gloriously naked Lila-Beth—whose hazel eyes were wide with shock.

"I have legs again," Lila-Beth whispered, wiggling her toes experimentally. Then her gaze dropped. "And you're still—"

"Yeah, thanks, I noticed," Maeve snapped, scrambling backward until her back hit a shelf of antique cookie jars. Her skin still glowed faintly pink at the edges, casting weird shadows on the walls.

A thump from the front of the store. Holloway's voice drifted back, amused. "Y'know, most folks pay extra for that kinda show."

Maeve grabbed the nearest object—a ceramic chicken—and hurled it in the direction of his voice. It shattered against the doorframe.

Lila-Beth sat up slowly, running her hands over her arms like she couldn't believe they were real. "Okay. Okay, we broke the curse. So why are we still—" She gestured between their very bare bodies.

The ledger slid across the floor toward them, pages fluttering open to Miriam's spidery handwriting:

The flesh-bound shall remain unclothed, lest the magic come undone.
Seek the eclipse when twin hearts beat as one.

"Well that's ominous," Maeve muttered.

Getting home was... complicated.

The Sheet Incident: Holloway "generously" provided a moth-eaten bed sheet that disintegrated the second Maeve wrapped it around herself. ("Miriam's magic doesn't like barriers," he chuckled.)

The Back Alley Route: They darted between dumpsters, Maeve hissing "Don't look down!" every time Lila-Beth's gaze drifted south.

Old Mrs. Peabody's Reaction: The elderly woman watering her petunias took one look at them, sighed, and called out, "Tell Miriam she owes me twenty bucks!" before going back inside.

Lila-Beth groaned. "Small. Fucking. Town."

The McCallister family home stood at the edge of town, its peeling blue paint and overgrown lawn a testament to months of neglect. The front door creaked open on its own.

"Aunt Miriam?" Lila-Beth called hesitantly.

The air smelled like lavender and something sharper—ozone, maybe. Maeve's glow brightened as they stepped inside, illuminating dust motes swirling in unnatural patterns.

Then the fridge door slammed open by itself.

Maeve yelped. A magnet skittered across the linoleum, dragging a Polaroid with it. The photo showed a much younger Miriam grinning next to—

"Is that Holloway?" Maeve squinted at the bearded man with his arm around Miriam. "They looked... close."

Lila-Beth paled. "Oh no. You don't think—"

The upstairs radio crackled to life, blaring "Total Eclipse of the Heart" at full volume.

"Dammit, Miriam!" Lila-Beth yelled at the ceiling.

Miriam's bedroom was a shrine to the occult. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, jars of questionable liquids lined the shelves, and in the center of it all—

"A sex chair?" Maeve deadpanned, staring at the familiar burgundy velvet now draped over an ornate wooden frame. "You were a sex chair?"

Lila-Beth's face burned. "It's a lounge! And—and it was symbolic, okay? Aunt Miriam believed magic worked best through, uh... physical connection."

Maeve picked up a yellowed note from the nightstand:

Dearest Lila-Beth,
If you're reading this, the curse transferred properly. The eclipse clause remains—find someone willing to bare heart AND flesh under the blood moon, and you'll be free.
P.S. Stop snooping in my grimoire.

A cold breeze swept through the room. The closet door creaked open, revealing—

"Are those handcuffs?" Maeve asked.

Lila-Beth snatched the note back. "We're leaving."

Maeve stood frozen on the Dawsons' front porch, her glowing pink skin illuminating the peeling white paint like some kind of unholy neon sign. Behind her, Lila-Beth fidgeted, their bare arms brushing in a way that sent little arcs of golden light crackling between them.

"Are you sure we can't just... never tell them?" Lila-Beth whispered.

The front door swung open before Maeve could answer.

Her mother stood there in her Sunday best, holding a casserole dish. Her father peered over her shoulder, coffee mug halfway to his lips.

Silence.

Maeve cleared her throat. "So. Funny story—"

Her mother dropped the casserole. Glass shattered across the porch.

"MAEVE LOUISE DAWSON!"

The Kitchen Confrontation

Maeve's parents had reacted... poorly.

Her mother had immediately thrown a tablecloth over Maeve's head (it burst into flames).

Her father had called Pastor Miller (who hung up after asking "Is this about the glow-in-the-dark nudity? Because I don't do exorcisms anymore").

The family dog (a basset hound named Pudding) had started howling like the apocalypse was coming.

Now they sat at the kitchen table—Maeve and Lila-Beth on one side, her parents on the other, with only a fruit bowl preserving some semblance of modesty.

"Let me get this straight," Maeve's father said, rubbing his temples. "You're telling me you're magically bound to this girl—"

"Cursed," Lila-Beth corrected.

"—and the only way to fix it is to wait for an eclipse while continuing to be naked?"

Maeve's mother made a noise like a tea kettle boiling over. "What about school? What about church? What about—" She gestured wildly at their general state of undress. "Basic decency?"

As if on cue, the fruit bowl between them sprouted legs and scuttled off the table.

Lila-Beth sighed. "Miriam's leaning into the whole 'no barriers' thing, huh?"

The Connection Deepens

That night, they discovered something new:

They couldn't be more than ten feet apart.

Maeve found out the hard way when she tried to use the bathroom alone. The second she stepped past the threshold—

"AGH!"

—an invisible force yanked her backward, sending her crashing into Lila-Beth, who'd been dragged halfway down the hallway.

"Ow! What the hell?" Lila-Beth groaned from beneath her.

Maeve's glow flared bright red. "I was peeing!"

"Yeah, and now I know what that feels like, thanks to whatever voodoo this is!" Lila-Beth shot back, rubbing her hip.

From the living room, Maeve's father called out, "Language!"

The Town Reacted in the morning, all of Cedar Hollow knew.

The Gas Station Incident: Their glow made the security lights malfunction, causing old man Jenkins to think the rapture was happening (he started handing out his collection of left-behind books).

The Diner Special: The chalkboard outside Betty's Café now reads "Try Our New Eclipse Pancakes! (No Nudity Required)"

Tammy Jo's Latest Scheme: She'd set up a "Naked Mile" betting pool behind the bleachers, taking wagers on when they'd "snap and start making out already."

But the worst part?

The eclipse wasn't for three weeks.

The Sleepover Situation, Maeve's parents had "compromised":

They could stay in the basement ("Where the neighbors can't see you!")

They had to use separate sleeping bags ("Separate!")

Absolutely no "funny business" ("We may be cursed, but we're not animals," Maeve had muttered)

This is how Maeve found herself at 2 AM, staring at the ceiling while Lila-Beth tossed and turned beside her.

"This is miserable," Lila-Beth groaned, kicking at her sleeping bag. "I spent three months as furniture and this is worse."

Maeve rolled over—and immediately regretted it. The moonlight streaming through the basement window painted Lila-Beth's bare shoulders silver, her glow pulsing faintly pink.

"What?" Lila-Beth asked, catching her stare.

Maeve's throat went dry. "Nothing. Just... thinking."

"About?"

"How much I want to murder your aunt."

Lila-Beth laughed, and the sound did something funny to Maeve's chest.

Then their glows synchronized, bathing the room in swirling pink-gold light.

From upstairs, Maeve's mother yelled, "LIGHTS OUT, GIRLS!"

The school board meeting was a disaster before it even began.

Principal Hendricks cleared his throat for the third time, adjusting his tie as he addressed the packed room of parents, teachers, and—inexplicably—several members of the Cedar Hollow Historical Society who seemed to think this was a reenactment.

"Given the... unique circumstances," he began, sweat beading on his forehead, "the board has determined it would be best if Miss Dawson and Miss McCallister completed their studies via—"

The overhead lights exploded in a shower of sparks.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd as the room plunged into darkness—except for the pulsing pink-gold glow emanating from where Maeve and Lila-Beth sat, their bare thighs pressed together out of necessity.

From the back of the room, Old Man Holloway chuckled around a mouthful of chewing tobacco. "Miriam always did hate homeschooling."

Maeve's parents had reluctantly agreed to limited physical contact after:

The Shower Incident: When forced to bathe separately, the plumbing had reversed, flooding the basement with inexplicably champagne bubbles.

The Church Intervention: Pastor Miller's attempted blessing resulted in all the bibles spontaneously opening to the Song of Solomon.

The Science Fair Debacle: Their mere presence caused the vinegar-and-baking-soda volcanoes to erupt with unnatural... enthusiasm.

Now they sat in the Dawsons' living room, Maeve perched awkwardly on Lila-Beth's lap (the only chair available, thanks to the others mysteriously developing very sharp springs).

"This is humiliating," Maeve muttered, her glow flickering crimson as Lila-Beth's hands settled hesitantly on her bare hips.

Her father sighed, rubbing his temples. "Just... try to be discreet at school."

Her mother made a noise like a deflating balloon. "Our daughter is going to graduate as half of a magical nudist duo."

Cedar Hollow High had attempted accommodations:

Special Desk: A single wide seat for two (immediately dubbed "the love throne" by Tammy Jo's cronies).

Modified Dress Code: They were allowed to "wear" glow-in-the-dark body paint (it evaporated within minutes).

Escorts: Two exasperated hall monitors whose sole job was to shout "Naked girls coming through!" before they rounded corners.

But the real problem wasn't the logistics—it was the connection.

Every brush of skin amplified the magic:

When Lila-Beth laughed during English, Maeve's toes curled uncontrollably.

When Maeve got frustrated in algebra, Lila-Beth's skin flushed the same shade of pink.

And when Tammy Jo "accidentally" spilled her lunch tray near them, both their glow flared like warning signs before the spaghetti sauce rearranged itself into the words "TRY ME, HARKNESS" on the cafeteria floor.

That night, Maeve's parents made one last desperate attempt at separation—locking Lila-Beth in the guest room.

It lasted seven minutes.

At 11:37 PM, the entire house shook as an invisible force yanked Maeve straight through her bedroom wall, leaving a perfect Maeve-shaped hole in the drywall. She landed sprawled atop Lila-Beth, their glows merging into a swirling aurora that lit up the neighborhood.

From the hallway, Maeve's father sighed. "We'll call the contractor in the morning."

Lila-Beth, pinned beneath Maeve, bit her lip. "So. This is our life now."

Maeve's glow pulsed hotter. "Shut up."

But she didn't move away.

As the eclipse drew nearer, the magic grew stronger:

Shared Dreams: Maeve kept waking up with the taste of Lila-Beth's favorite gum (watermelon Bubblicious) in her mouth.

Involuntary Confessions: During study hall, Lila-Beth blurted out Maeve's middle name (Louise) and childhood fear of garden gnomes.

The Incident with the Yearbook Photos: Every picture of them in the proof copy now showed them fused at the shoulder, glowing like some kind of bizarre superhero duo.

And through it all, Miriam's ghost kept hinting:

The bathroom mirror fogged up to reveal "SKIN IS JUST THE BEGINNING"

The radio switched itself to love ballads whenever they argued.

And the final clue appeared burned into Maeve's toast at breakfast:

WHEN TWIN HEARTS BEAT AS ONE UNDER THE BLOOD MOON
THE CURSE WILL BREAK... OR BECOME YOUR GREATEST BLESSING

Lila-Beth stared at the message, then at Maeve. "Your mom needs to adjust the toaster settings."

The night of the eclipse found them standing in the middle of the football field, surrounded by half of Cedar Hollow's population. What had started as a private ritual had somehow turned into a town-wide event, complete with concession stands selling "Eclipse Burgers" and Tammy Jo's younger brother charging five bucks for binoculars.

Maeve's skin prickled under the weight of hundreds of stares. The blood moon hung heavy overhead, painting the field in eerie crimson light.

"This is worse than the time I forgot my pants for gym class," Lila-Beth muttered, her fingers laced tightly with Maeve's. Their joined hands glowed like molten gold.

Old Man Holloway stood before them, wearing what appeared to be ceremonial overalls. He cleared his throat.

"Miriam's instructions were clear," he said, holding up the charred remains of what looked like a romance novel with spells scribbled in the margins. "For the curse to break, you gotta speak your truth under the blood moon. No holdin' back."

Maeve swallowed hard. "What truth?"

Holloway's grin revealed several missing teeth. "The one you've been avoidin' since minute one."

The crowd leaned in as one.

Lila-Beth turned to Maeve, her glow pulsing in time with her quickening heartbeat. "I think... I think I know what it wants."

Maeve's mouth went dry. "Yeah. Me too."

A hush fell over the field. Even the crickets stopped chirping.

"I hated you," Lila-Beth blurted. "Before the curse. When you sat behind me in algebra and kicked my chair every damn day."

Maeve blinked. "What? You started it! You kept turning around to 'borrow pencils' just to mock my band shirts!"

"Because you were always so cool without trying!" Lila-Beth's glow flared bright pink. "And your stupid hair smelled like vanilla, and it distracted me during quizzes!"

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

Maeve's pulse roared in her ears. "I kicked your chair because your laugh made my stomach do backflips, you idiot!"

The second the words left her mouth, the blood moon's light intensified, painting them both in vivid scarlet. Their joined hands began to burn—not with pain, but with something hotter, brighter.

Miriam's ghost materialized between them in a swirl of lavender-scented mist, her translucent form grinning.

"Finally," she sighed. "Took you two long enough."

Lila-Beth yelped. "Aunt Miriam?!"

"The curse wasn't punishment, dummy," the ghost said, floating circles around them. "It was a gift. A way to force you past all that teenage angst and see what was right in front of you." She gestured to their glowing bodies. "The magic didn't create this connection. It just revealed it."

Maeve's head spun. "So... the nudity?"

"Dramatic effect." Miriam winked. "Also, hilarious."

The ghost turned serious as the moon reached totality. "Now choose. The eclipse can break the curse... or make it permanent. Your hearts have to decide."

Lila-Beth looked at Maeve, her eyes reflecting the blood moon. "I'm tired of pretending I don't..."

Maeve didn't let her finish.

She kissed her.

And the world exploded in a golden light.

When the spots cleared from their vision:

They were clothed (matching Eclipse Burger T-shirts and jeans that miraculously fit).

The crowd was cheering (except for Tammy Jo, who looked physically ill).

Their glows had condensed into tiny golden marks—Maeve's on her wrist, Lila-Beth's over her heart—that pulsed when they touched.

Miriam's ghost faded with a satisfied smile. "Told you so."

Principal Hendricks timidly approached. "So... does this mean you'll be wearing normal clothes to graduation?"

Lila-Beth grinned and laced her fingers with Maeve's. Their marks flared in unison.

"No promises."

Epilogue: Permanent Glow

One Year Later

The burgundy lounger sat proudly in the center of Maeve and Lila-Beth's dorm room, its velvet cushions slightly more worn than before. The resident advisor had given up trying to remove it after the third attempt resulted in all the hallway lights singing "Careless Whisper" for six straight hours.

Lila-Beth flopped onto the chair, grinning as Maeve immediately yelped from across the room.

"You did that on purpose," Maeve accused, rubbing her lower back where the phantom sensation of impact lingered. Their bond marks—hers a swirling gold sun on her wrist, Lila-Beth's a matching crescent moon over her heart—pulsed warmly.

Lila-Beth's grin turned wicked. "Maybe I like knowing you feel me everywhere."

Maeve's mark flared crimson.

The blood moon's gift had... evolved:

Shared Senses: Maeve now tasted every mint gum Lila-Beth chewed (and vice versa with her coffee addiction)

Emotional Projection: When Lila-Beth got nervous during exams, their entire dorm smelled like lavender

The Other Perk: Certain intimate sensations amplified through the bond (a discovery made during winter break that made Maeve's parents very glad the girls had separate rooms at home)

Their RA had posted a sign on their door: "WARNING: Magical lovebirds inside. Knock LOUDLY and wait for confirmation before entering."

As the next eclipse approached, the lounger developed some quirks:

It purred when scratched in just the right spo.t

It refused to let anyone sit on it except them (Professor Hendricks had learned this the hard way during a surprise dorm inspection)

And sometimes, when they fell asleep tangled together on its cushions, they'd wake to find fresh love notes in Miriam's looping handwriting tucked between the seams.

"Your aunt is such a creep," Maeve grumbled one morning, plucking a note from her cleavage that read "Knew you'd be perfect together - M"

Lila-Beth just kissed her temple. "Says the girl who glows when I—"

Maeve shoved a pillow in her face.

At graduation, as they walked across the stage hand-in-hand:

Their marks flared so brightly that the photographer had to adjust his le.ns

Tammy Jo (now their weirdest ally) cheered loud enough to startle the dean.

And the diploma handed to them was addressed to "Maeve Dawson-McCallister & Lila-Beth McCallister-Dawson" (a "clerical error" no one bothered to correct)

As the sun set, painting their skin gold and pink like the early days of the curse, Maeve squeezed Lila-Beth's hand.

"Think it'll ever fade?"

Lila-Beth kissed their joined marks, smiling against Maeve's pulse.

"Not a chance."

The End

[Somebody]

Absolutely hilarious writing.

[Dormouse]

Cute.

[Mistwolf]

This is delightful.