THE-ART-OF-TICKLING

(Gang/F) The quiet town of Solfis deals with pranksters the same way it handles criminals and immoral behaviors... from within. Story Word Count: 2092 The handlebars of Poppy’s bike shook as it bounced over the brick street towards Sanctuary Hill. As with any morning, she could smell the salt from the sea, its waves lapping against the shore just on the other side of the brightly colored houses that line the avenue. Though there was no time to take in the scenery. It was Sunday. On Sunday, a crowd would gather at the top of Sanctuary Hill, to view the punishments at the town square. Poppy raced at the edge of the street around one such crowd right now. The sweet smell of Mr. Tunis’s bakery drifted by, making her mouth water. She heard the gentle hum of cars trolling along the meandering coastal road beneath the town. See could see Mr. and Mrs. Bryling step back out onto the street, a pastry each. “Careful girl! Slow down!” Mr. Turner calls out as Poppy’s wild blonde

What a pristine and perfect day in Lazytown. Birds chirping, butterflies flitting and… Soccer balls soaring? No, that's not a mistake. The Soccer ball was soaring, as high as a bird. It descended and dipped, disappearing on the horizon. Well now. That doesn't happen everyday. Wonder what caused it to fly so high. The answer was indeed shocking. During a 'friendly' little soccer game between the adorable and peppy Stephanie Meanswell and her friends, Ziggy, Trixie and Stingy, she managed to kick the ball way over the goal. She cheered and chanted, flipping and zipping across the field. "Alright, oh yeah! GO Steph! Go Stephanie! M-E-A-N-SWELL! M-E-A-N…SWELL— woo-hoo!" While Steph's victory lap was precious in every sense of the word, it did come off as boastful. A tad obnoxious. This narrator didn't really mind, but her friends sure did. "All hail queen Steph, the royal pain…" Trixie announced snidely. "I don't know if all that dancing is very nice." Ziggy spoke winded

The desert heat was harsh and the winds blew coarse with sand. In spite of this, it was not to the point of being unable to sustain life and thrive. The Upheaval had passed, a treacherous event that caused immense damage to the land of Hyrule as a whole, tearing apart the earth and shifting nature itself. The severe sandstorms that once coated the desert of Gerudo had subsided, but the monsters that truly thrived in such harsh conditions still ran amok. They threatened travelers, merchants, any who would be so unfortunate to cross their path. On top of these monstrosities there was the subject of rebuilding what was lost after the Upheaval. So much long work that needed to be done plagued the Gerudo Chief, Lady Riju. There were days where the young chieftain would not rest as she pondered her plans, times where she had taken a knee from pushing herself without pause. True over the years she had grown into her role, but Riju was still only one person trying to shoulder the burdens of

(F/F, FF/F, F/F) A sleepover goes awry after one of Ann's scary stories brings to light just how little experience a certain Phantom Thief has had being tickled. Story Word Count: 2635 “But when they got home and checked their car, there was a hook stuck in the door!” Makoto exclaims, looking around the attic to gauge her audience’s reaction. Haru stares back at her, looking more polite than frightened, she straightens her matching silk pajamas a bit, and smiles at the storyteller. Ann’s attention had drifted to her phone at some point during the tale, she barely seemed to notice it had ended, one hand texting and the other unconsciously fidgeting with the drawstring of her stylish fuzzy pajama shorts. Seeing Ann and Haru's sleepwear, Makoto had felt a bit embarrassed when she had shown up to Leblanc tonight wearing one of her sis’s old shirts and sweatpants. At least Futaba seemed to match her more, drowning in an extra large t-shirt. She did look nearly asleep though