whimsical love story

by Bill Tiepelman

A Lantern, A Frog, and A Thousand Laughs

Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, where mushrooms grew like umbrellas and fireflies made night look like a tavern festival, lived Old Jorgin—a gnome with a belly as round as his laugh was loud. He wasn’t just any gnome, though. No, no. He was the proud owner of the luckiest beard in the land. At least, that’s what he told himself every time a lady gnome refused to braid it. But tonight, Jorgin wasn’t thinking about his beard. He was thinking about the frog in his hands. “Damn thing jumped straight into my soup!” he grumbled, holding the vibrant green troublemaker up to his lantern. “Ruined a perfectly good mushroom stew. And it winked at me! Did you wink at me, you slimy little—?” The frog, to its credit, did not confirm nor deny the accusation. The Cackle Heard ‘Round the Forest “HAH!” A burst of laughter rang through the trees, startling Jorgin so badly he nearly dropped the frog. There, standing like a vision of chaos and delight, was Marla—the only woman in the village who could outdrink, outdance, and outwit him. Her wild curls were tucked beneath a hat overflowing with flowers, and her blue dress was embroidered with tiny hearts and vines, as if the fabric itself had fallen in love with her. She pointed at him, eyes sparkling. “Oh, Jorgin, tell me you didn’t—” “It was not a romantic dinner,” he huffed, lifting the frog. “This scoundrel jumped in uninvited.” Marla leaned in, smirking. “Are you sure? He’s got the eyes of a prince.” Jorgin snorted. “More like the eyes of a tax collector.” A Bet Sealed With a Kiss Marla crossed her arms. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Jorgin blinked. “What?” “You gotta kiss him.” He stared at her. “Marla, are you out of your damn mind?” She grinned. “You scared?” “Of catching frog flu? Yes!” But the way she was looking at him—mischievous, daring—made his gnome heart do a strange little somersault. And because he had never, not once, turned down a challenge from Marla, he sighed dramatically and brought the frog to his lips. The frog licked its own eyeball. Jorgin recoiled. “Nope. Absolutely not. That’s unnatural.” Marla cackled again, slapping his shoulder. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it.” Before he could protest, she plucked the frog from his hands, puckered up, and planted a smooch right on its bumpy little head. Well, That Didn’t Go as Planned The moment her lips left the frog, there was a poof of golden light. Jorgin jumped back. Marla gasped. The fireflies dimmed. And in the frog’s place… stood… a very naked, very confused, middle-aged accountant. “Oh gods,” the man muttered, looking at his hands. “Not again.” Jorgin and Marla exchanged looks. The man sighed. “I am Prince Dorian of the Evergild Kingdom. I was cursed by a swamp witch after a—let’s say—‘misunderstanding’ involving a debt I refused to pay. You have broken my curse, fair maiden, and I am forever in your debt.” He knelt before Marla, eyes brimming with gratitude. Jorgin cleared his throat. “Uh. You’re also naked.” Dorian sighed again. “Yeah, that happens too.” Marla Makes a Choice Marla took a long look at the prince. Then at Jorgin. Then back at the prince. “So… does this mean we have to get married?” she asked. Dorian smiled. “That would be the traditional fairy tale ending.” Marla tapped her chin. “Hmm. Counteroffer.” Jorgin tensed. “You go back to your fancy castle, pay your debts, and we pretend this never happened.” Dorian blinked. “Oh. That’s… that’s actually a relief.” Jorgin exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Marla turned back to Jorgin, still grinning. “So, what do you say? Want to share some frog-free stew with me?” Jorgin’s heart did another somersault. He coughed, rubbing his neck. “As long as you promise not to turn me into a prince.” She hooked her arm through his. “Oh, Jorgin. You’re already the king of my bad decisions.” And with that, they left Dorian to find some pants, while they laughed all the way back to their mushroom-lit village—where there were no curses, no royal obligations, and no more damn frogs in the stew.     Love this whimsical tale? 🌿✨ The enchanting image that inspired it—"A Lantern, A Frog, and A Thousand Laughs"—is available for prints, downloads, and licensing in our Image Archive. 🔗 View in the Archive

by Bill Tiepelman

Pumpkin Grove Guardians: Gnomes Under the Harvest Moon

In a far corner of the enchanted forest, where the trees whispered secrets and the pumpkins grew a little too perfectly round, lived two gnomes. Their names were Hazel and Gourd, and while they were as mismatched as a Halloween costume found on discount, their love story had a certain quirky charm—much like them. Gourd, as his name suggested, was obsessed with pumpkins. Obsessed might even be an understatement. The gnome had an entire system for growing the roundest, orangest, most perfectly symmetrical pumpkins in the entire forest. His pumpkin patch was the talk of the woodland community, even drawing occasional admirers from passing fairies who couldn't resist snapping a photo (or painting, since fairies were old-school like that). Gourd loved his pumpkins almost as much as he loved Hazel. Hazel, on the other hand, was a bit more... unpredictable. If Gourd was a perfectly carved jack-o'-lantern, Hazel was the pumpkin that got dropped, bounced a few times, and then rolled off into the bushes. In the best way, of course. She was spontaneous, fun, and had a habit of creating the most bizarre Halloween concoctions. Pumpkin spice soup with a hint of ghost pepper? Sure. Candied bat wings? Why not? She even made gnome-sized witch hats out of leftover squash. For Hazel, life was too short not to embrace the chaos. The Great Pumpkin Proposal It was Halloween, naturally, the night when the enchanted forest came alive with glowing pumpkins, mischievous fairies, and a general sense that anything could happen. Gourd had spent weeks preparing his pumpkin patch for the occasion, perfecting each pumpkin with the dedication of a sculptor chiseling their masterpiece. Tonight wasn’t just any Halloween. Tonight, Gourd was going to propose to Hazel. Now, you might be thinking, “A pumpkin patch proposal? Isn’t that a little... basic?” And you’d be right. But Gourd was anything but basic when it came to his love of pumpkins. This proposal wasn’t going to be just some candle-lit dinner next to a jack-o'-lantern. Oh no. He had a plan. A grand one. Earlier that day, Gourd had spent hours carving the most impressive pumpkin in his patch. It was huge—so large, in fact, that Hazel had questioned whether or not it was legally a pumpkin anymore or some kind of squat orange monster. She didn't know that inside that pumpkin was the ring—nestled safely in a tiny compartment Gourd had carved himself. Tonight, as they strolled through the glowing patch, he was going to lead her to the special pumpkin and pop the question. But, as with all things involving Hazel, nothing ever went according to plan. A Spooky Twist “You know,” Hazel said with a playful grin as they walked hand-in-hand through the pumpkin patch that night, “you really should let some of these pumpkins have faces. They’re just sitting there, staring blankly into the night. It’s creepy.” Gourd chuckled. “These are serious pumpkins, Hazel. You can’t go carving faces on everything, you know.” “Oh, can’t I?” Hazel challenged, her eyes twinkling with mischief. That’s when Gourd knew he was in trouble. Before he could protest, Hazel darted ahead, plucking a small, harmless-looking pumpkin off the ground. She pulled a tiny carving knife from her belt—Hazel always carried around random tools for reasons Gourd could never quite understand—and began etching a face into the pumpkin’s surface. “Hazel, wait! That’s—” Gourd began, but it was too late. As soon as Hazel finished carving the pumpkin, its eyes began to glow a deep, eerie orange. The pumpkin trembled in her hands before letting out a long, raspy cackle. “Oh no,” Gourd muttered, rubbing his temples. “That was one of the cursed pumpkins, wasn’t it?” “Cursed?” Hazel asked, her face lighting up with excitement. “You didn’t tell me there were cursed pumpkins! This is amazing!” Before Gourd could explain, the cursed pumpkin hopped out of Hazel’s hands and began bouncing across the patch, cackling like a tiny maniac. It careened through rows of pumpkins, knocking them over like bowling pins as it went. “Stop that thing!” Gourd yelled, but it was too late. The cursed pumpkin slammed right into the giant, proposal-sized pumpkin. With a dramatic puff of smoke, the enormous pumpkin split in two, revealing the tiny carved compartment and, much to Gourd’s horror, the ring, now sitting in the middle of the chaos like the world’s most obvious clue. The Surprise Proposal Hazel gasped, her eyes going wide as she caught sight of the ring. “Is that—wait, are you—?” Gourd, seeing that the plan was well and truly ruined, sighed heavily and dropped to one knee in the pumpkin carnage. “Hazel,” he began, sounding more defeated than romantic, “will you marry me?” There was a long pause. Hazel blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread across her face. “Of course I will!” she squealed, throwing her arms around Gourd and knocking him backward into the pumpkin guts. For a moment, they lay there, tangled in vines and seeds, laughing at the absurdity of it all. The cursed pumpkin, seemingly pleased with itself, hopped away into the night, still cackling. Happily Ever After—Pumpkin Style Later that evening, as they sat together under the twinkling lights of the forest, Hazel admired the ring on her finger. “You know,” she said, smirking, “I think the cursed pumpkin really added something to the whole proposal. Gave it a little... spice.” Gourd, still picking pumpkin seeds out of his beard, rolled his eyes. “I swear, only you would find the silver lining in a cursed pumpkin ruining my big moment.” “Oh, come on,” Hazel teased, nudging him playfully. “It was perfect, and you know it. After all, who else can say they were proposed to by a gnome who grows the best pumpkins in the entire forest?” Gourd chuckled, pulling her close. “I suppose you’re right. But next time, let’s try to keep the cursed pumpkins out of it.” Hazel grinned. “No promises.” And so, under the glow of the pumpkin patch and the twinkling lights of the enchanted forest, Hazel and Gourd began their happily ever after—complete with pumpkins, curses, and all the quirks that made their love story one for the ages. Because really, what’s love without a little magic... and a few pumpkin-related disasters?