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Keep Your Hands Off My GirlKeep Your Hands Off My Girl
Was feeling some Gender-Bender Adventure Time and I saw a video with the song "Keep Your Hands Off My Girl," By Good Charlotte. I'll leave a link at the bottom for you guys.
Marshall Lee wasn't one to care about much. He only cared if it affected him, benefited him, or it involved the Human Fionna. (The latter not known by many).
Marshall Lee, while seeming calm and mischievous and yet indifferent around the young and innocent human, was watching her and the others, always on his toes. If he happened to be around (which was quite often) and you managed to surprise Fionna, you'd know he was there in an instant
With his axe-bass in hand, murder in his eyes.
There were fairly rare times when one got away with scaring Fionna, but those times usually involved Cake and Marshall teasing and pranking her.
Usually, though, if people did hurt or surprise Human Fionna, they
Confessions For FirefliesThis One-Shot takes place during "Ring Ring's Party"
I don't own Pucca, but I wish I did T-T
Confessions For Fireflies
The tears fell onto her knees, soaking the black leggings underneath her red dress. Once the first tear fell, they just wouldn't stop and soon sniffles and small moans escaped her mouth. She wanted to scream, but decided to spare her poor uncles: They had enough to deal with during the day. She doesn't want to add on that extra trouble. They wouldn't mind and actually enjoyed helping Pucca, since they didn't have too much to do with her up bringing. Not that Pucca knew that. The tears fell faster and hotter than before. She would get like this at times, her sadness overwhelming every thought and emotion she had felt before. They usually lasted only the night and happened every few months or so. She hadn't had her moments in a while and she almost forgot about it. But ton
Daddy!LevixChild!Reader - The Hard Stuff
Levi looked down at his daughter. She stood timidly near the doorway, fiddling with the large towel in her hands. Her hair was still soaked from the bath she had taken not minutes ago, and droplets of water fell from the glossy strands and onto her yellow nightgown.
“What, _____?” he said in his usual cold tone, though _____ knew it wasn’t completely intentional.
The six-year-old looked down at the peach-colored towel clutched in her tiny fingers. “U-Um, Mommy always helps me dry my hair. . .”
Levi sighed softly and sat up on the couch, motioning _____ to come closer. When she did, he sat her down on the floor in front of him and took the towel from her hands. He spread the towel over her small head and gently massaged it through the towel. He wrapped the towel around her long strands and proceeded to knead the water out of them.
“Daddy, where’s Mommy?” _____ asked, turning her head to look at her father.
BertholdtxReader - Cynophobia [AU]
cynophobia - (n.) the fear of dogs
“Man, how long has it been since you’ve been to my house?”
“A month, I think,” Bertholdt replied from the front passenger seat as I drove down the empty road.
“Seems like more to me,” I commented, propping an elbow on the armrest between me and my friend. “I think my parents are still at work, so we’ll probably be alone with Maes.”
“Maes?” he said, confused.
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t tell you? I got a dog a couple weeks ago.”
I felt Bertholdt freeze beside me. “A-A dog?”
“Yeah. A two-year-old pit bull.” I turned into my neighborhood and relaxed into the seat when I slowed down the car. “I thought you knew. Even Levi knows—and now he refuses to come over now because he thinks my place is completely covered in dog crap.”
Bertholdt made what sounded like a forced chuckle, rubbing his hands on his pant legs. “S-So, um,
The InfomercialThe Infomercial
(This story is from the upcoming MagnusMagneto Musclethology #1. It's a collection of three short stories that will be given exclusively to those who support me on Patreon. These stories will be even more whimsical than my usual stuff, foregoing character development and scientific explanations for more light-hearted fare.
If you want access to this story in PDF format along with two more tales of similar length and light-hearted tone, consider becoming a Patron of mine before July 31st! http://www.patreon.com/magnusmagneto
There are also a few references/homages to other FMG works/authors and the femmuscle community in general. All done out of total respect and admiration. See how many you get!)
“Welcome folks to the infomercial event of the year!” A tall, attractive woman with bright auburn hair and piercing blue eyes faced the camera with a bright, white smile. She wore skimpy blue workout clothes
Death Battle: Scorpion vs. Hellboy
Roy: Alright the combatants are set, we have taken every angle into account and we have found ourselves a verdict.
Ivan: Let us watch the Hellfire ninja attempt to break his streak.
Roy: So, it's time for a Death Battle!
Ivan: So enthusiastic...
Roy: What? Just because I stole your line-
Ivan: IT'S TIME FOR A DEATH BATTLE!!!!
It was quiet that night. No one was out of their home, probably because of the big red demon walking about. Hellboy stepped out of a nearby pancake house, the owner watching his demonic customer exit the restaurant. His breath reeked of pancakes and beer.
Hellboy pulled out a wrinkled and folded-up piece of paper. It had "DEATH BATTLE" written at the top. Hellboy looked at it as he found the opponents name on the paper.
"Scorpion." Hellboy read aloud as he checked the area. He didn't see anything. Meanwhile in the depths of hell a yell was heard. A yellow clad ninja walked out of a blazing fire, a chain hanging from his arm. It was Scorpion.
Tell me story"Why you read zat book, hmm?"
Victor had come to pay a visit to his Princess, whom he had found up in her library -as always- reading her afternoon away. Though he rather liked it when she read, especially when she read aloud to him. The sound of her voice was always soothing (and exotic, with that accent she had) and he always found it a treat when she offered to read to him.
So after she chose a book, they had left the libary and gone to her room, where she gathered up her pillows and made a sort of nest for them. Oh, this he really liked. Not so much the pillows (too soft for his taste) but more that he got to snuggle up next to her.
His finger curled and uncurled her strand of hair idly, resting his chin upon her shoulder as he looked over the words of her books. So many words, and no pictures? How did she stand to read so much without pictures?
"I's one o' mah favorites in this book." was her answer, holding up the large book, the title of 'Grimms Fairytails' written across it. "I
AmericaXReader: Unexpected Courage “Where is he?” you questioned as you stood in front of the bus stop waiting for your friend. He wanted you to meet him there because he had something “really fun” planned for the day. It was five o’clock when you finally saw him running toward you.
“Hey, dudette! Sorry for the wait,” he bent over softly panting, “it’s just that-”
“It’s fine, Alfred. I just want to know what you have planned,” you looked into his blue eyes with excitement.
“Okay, but you have to close your eyes,” he winked at you.
Fallen MothHe'd put it off long enough, but it had been a few days now since he had sent Hushedsnow off, she'd mentioned something about Highclan, although personally he hoped she'd ended up in Leafclan - he didn't know of any Dark Forest Cats there. He wanted her to be safe, but hopefully it would only be for a short time more.
The Clan was preoccupied with the sharks, and Aspenstar had left the Nursery so she could give orders more efficiently from The Leader's Den.
Getting Aspenstar alone had been one of the hardest parts of the plan, with Crystalshimmer and all those kits in the Nursery, as well as Shadowcliff moving in and out all the time, but it seemed these sharks had arrived as a gift - although he was pretty sure even The Dark Forest couldn't have arranged that one.
Mothlight had been watching The Leader's Den all day, getting to know how regularly Warriors would appear and which ones appeared more often, working out the spacing between their trips. It seemed that the times Tigers
Here's to you, coconut man.We found the coconut man on Seven Mile Beach. His bag held dozens of coconuts, a machete and a bottle of rum. For five dollars each we drank island-made dark liquor and scraped our teeth against the flesh of our cups. Buzzed in the blazing mid-day sun, we sank into the sand and let the gentle swell wash over our toes.
The water was aquamarine and warm; the Caribbean Sea breathing a calm wind over the shore. For a while we just lay there breathing in the salty air, luxuriating in the heat, our bodies unceremoniously slack against the beach.
It was the changing tide that sobered us; sneaky little waves crawled up the shore tickling my skin in its wake. Our feet carried us up and down the coast, seashells finding their way into our pockets and the coconut man was never too far away for a refill.
We were hammock bound as the sun dipped low, our eyes hopelessly glued to a sunset that turned both sea and sky into fire. We slept well that night, our limbs heavy, our skin tan and our minds awa
Age Far, Love CloseThere were many things to describe their love. Many were kind and generous, other harmful and mocking. Some remarks striked right where it hurt the most, but with each other, the slowly built their walls that would shield them, keep them safe, and warm, and happy Their own little world There were many things their love was called. Some called it a taboo, others called it impossibility, and others just found it amazing and quite romantic. They would just laugh, and look into their eyes, bright emeralds and coal black It doesn't matter what the people say All that matter is this
While their age is far, their love is close.....
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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