Author has written 7 stories for Next Avengers: Heroes of Tomorrow, Danny Phantom, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, No Ordinary Family, Marvel, Fairly OddParents, and Incredible Hulk.
Notes about the below (not counting PAIRINGS [and anything underneath that]):
suggestions for improvements and/or plot twists for any of my stories: free to any/all users who want to post them
Possible future fanfiction(s):
On-hold (for now):
(Possibly) being redone:
PAIRINGS I'LL NEVER DO IN MY STORIES (and the reason[s] why):
TimmyXTootie (Fairly Oddparents): I don't think a stalker is the best choose for a girlfriend for any sane person; now, don't get me wrong: I know that Tootie needs love/happiness in her life, but I don't know if she knows what true love is (and by that, I mean that to truly love someone is to let him/her be free to make the choose, on their own free will, to love you back)
DannyXanyone but Sam (and vise versa) (Danny Phantom): I know that they both can be a little clueless at times, but Danny and Sam are perfect for each other, no ands, ifs, or buts
Clark Kent/SupermanXanyone but Lois Lane (and vise versa): okay, so it took her a little while to figure out that the two loves of her life are the same person; that doesn't mean that they don't belong together
TorunnXJames, Azari, or Pym (Next Avengers): they see each other as siblings, and you DON'T date your siblings
LeoXLuna (Yu-gi-oh 5ds): see the one right above this
DaniXDanny (Danny Phanotm): this is slightly different from the one that reads "Danny/anyone but Sam" for two reasons: 1) Danny's "cousin" is a clone of the ghostly hero, so it's just plain wrong on that level, and 2) whether you call Dani a cousin, a clone, a daughter, or a sister to the main character of the series, bottom line, you DON'T date close family (which I believe Danny and Dani to be, regardless of the circumstances)
DaniXSam, even if "Sam" is a boy clone (Danny Phantom): okay, I know that Dani is mentally exactly like her "donor," Danny, but I have two good reasons why I eventually chose not to do this under any circumstances: 1) if Sam was a girl under this situation, a) it would be kind of akward for Sam to have to date TWO people, and b) to do this would be breaking my rule of no lesbian couples (see below for my reasoning behind this); and 2) if "Sam" was a boy under this situation, a) it would be kind of awkward for both the clones and the "donors" (Danny and Sam) to see their "cousins" dating other while they themselves were dating each other and b) one genetic ghost child dating a singular genetic goth is probably enough for a world where half ghosts and clones of those said half ghosts are possible (tell me if this last part makes sense to you)
ANY gay/lesbian couple(s): I firmly believe that to allow this to take place in my stories would encourage gay/lesbian marriage, and I DON'T want to take part in encouraging this, seeing as, in my mind, allowing gay/lesbian marriage would lead us one step closer to making regular/straight marriage illegal (you can send me a message if you don't understand what I'm talking about)
98 percent of the teenage population does or has tried smoking pot. If you're one of the 2 percent who hasn't, copy and paste this in your profile.
Ninety-five percent of the kids out there are concerned with being popular and fitting in. If you're part of the five percent who aren't, copy this, put it in your profile, and add your name to the list. AnimeKittyCafe, Hyperactivley Bored, Gem W, Bara-Minamino, Yavie Aelinel, Crazy Billie Joe Loving Freak, Shadow929, SweetNCrazieSugarmuffin, The Komodo Dragon Phoenix, Bust_A_Groover, Tecna, Triggonseed, The Only Innocent Writer Here-Yumi, EstellaB, NarnianMelody, tookieclothespen, GentleInAMoshPit, Gothic Tiger, Amras Felagund, mrastounding
If you aren't scared to wear more than one black garment of clothing at a time, copy and paste this into your profile.
(special thanks to Amras Felagund for the above)
If you've ever wished you could go into a book and give a good "talk" to some of the characters for being so incredibly dim-witted, copy and paste this into your profile.
If you are the kind of person that gets really excited when you get at least one review, copy this into your profile.
If you think that writer's block stinks, copy and paste this into your profile.
A large percent of writers don't know the difference between "your" and "you're". If you're one of the ones who does know and wants to call out those who don't, copy and paste this into your profile.
Mummy I am only 8 inches long but I have all my organs. I love the sound of your voice. Every time I hear it I wave my arms and legs. The sound of your heart beat is my favorite lullaby.
Mummy today I learned how to suck my thumb. If you could see me you could definitely tell that I am a baby. I'm not big enough to survive outside my home though. It is so nice and warm in here.
You know what Mummy I'm a boy!! I hope that makes you happy. I always want you to be happy. I don't like it when you cry. You sound so sad. It makes me sad too and I cry with you even though you can't hear me.
Mummy my hair is starting to grow. It is very short and fine but I will have a lot of it. I spend a lot of my time exercising. I can turn my head and curl my fingers and toes and stretch my arms and legs. I am becoming quite good at it too.
You went to the doctor today. Mummy, he lied to you. He said that I'm not a baby. I am a baby Mummy, your baby. I think and feel. Mummy, what's abortion?
I can hear that doctor again. I don't like him. He seems cold and heartless. Something is intruding my home. The doctor called it a needle. Mummy what is it? It burns! Please make him stop! I can't get away from it! Mummy! HELP me!
Mummy I am okay. I am in Jesus's arms. He is holding me. He told me about abortion. Why didn't you want me, Mummy? Was I not destined to be in your life Mummy? Was I not needed in you life, Mummy? Was it...I did not belong, Mummy? Was it...you did not love me, and did not want to love me, Mummy?
Every Abortion Is Just . . .
One more heart that was stopped. Two more eyes that will never see. Two more hands that will never touch. Two more legs that will never run. One more mouth that will never speak. One more nose that will never smell. Two more ears that will never hear. One more tounge that will never taste. One more life that will not be lived to the full.
If you're against abortion, re-post this and if you almost cried post this in your profile (abortion isn't some random preventative measure; it's murder. It's evil, cruel, and it's a gift...from the devil.) i cried soooo hard!
(special thanks to kyuubecky for the words that supplied the above statements)
If you HATE child abuse as much as I do (which is a lot), copy and paste this on your profile
My name is Sarah
I am but three,
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see.
I must be stupid
I must be bad,
What else could have made
My daddy so mad?
I wish I were better
I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy
Will still want to hug me.
I can't speak at all
I can't do wrong
Or else I'm locked up
All the day long.
When I'm awake I'm all alone
The house is dark
My folks aren't home.
When my mommy does come
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll get just
One whipping tonight.
Don't make a sound!
I just heard a car,
My daddy is back
From Charlie's Bar.
I hear him curse
My name he calls,
I press myself
Against the wall.
I try to hide
From his evil eyes,
I'm so afraid now
I'm sradishing to cry.
He finds me weeping
He shouts ugly words,
He says it's my fault
That he suffers at work.
He slaps me and hits me
And yells at me more,
I finally get free
And run for the door.
He's already locked it
And I sradish to bawl,
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall.
I fall to the floor
With my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues
With more bad words spoken.
"I'm sorry!", I scream
But it's now much too late,
His face has been twisted
Into unimaginable hate.
The hurt and the pain
Again and again,
Oh please God, have mercy!
Oh please let it end!
And he finally stops
And heads for the door,
While I lay there motionless
sprawled on the floor.
My name is Sarah
I am but three,
Tonight, my daddy,
STOP THE CHILD ABUSE!
SPREAD THIS POEM!
This is a story about God. Read if you believe in him, and read even if you don't.
A teenage girl about 17 named Diane had gone to visit some friends one evening and time passed quickly as each shared their various experiences of the past year. She ended up staying longer than planned, and had to walk home alone. She wasn't afraid because it was a small town and she lived only a few blocks away.
As she walked along under the tall elm trees, Diane asked God to keep her safe from harm and danger. When she reached the alley, which was a short cut to her house, she decided to take it. However, halfway down the alley she noticed a man standing at the end as though he were waiting for her. She became uneasy and began to pray, asking for God's protection. Instantly a comforting feeling of quietness and security wrapped round her, she felt as though someone was walking with her. When she reached the end of the alley, she walked right past the man and arrived home safely.
The following day, she read in the newspaper that a young girl had been raped in the same alley just twenty minutes after she had been there. Feeling overwhelmed by this tragedy and the fact that it could have been her, she began to weep. Thanking the Lord for her safety and to help this young woman, she decided to go to the police station. She felt she could recognize the man, so she told them her story. The police asked her if she would be willing to look at a lineup to see if she could identify him. She agreed and immediately pointed out the man she had seen in the alley the night before. When the man was told he had been identified, he immediately broke down and confessed. The officer thanked Diane for her bravery and asked if there was anything they could do for her. She asked if they would ask the man one question. Diane was curious as to why he had not attacked her. When the policeman asked him, he answered, "Because she wasn't alone. She had two tall men walking on either side of her." Amazingly, whether you believe or not, you're never alone. Did you know that 98 of teenagers will not stand up for God, and 93 of the people that read this won’t repost it?
(special thanks to twinsoftheearth for the above)
This Story Really Touched My Heart:
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask, "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.
We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate.
Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me.
These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said, "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed “No, Daddy Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?" They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.
When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?" Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said, "I'm so sorry."
She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her.
It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
Put this on your profile if it touched your heart too.
(special thanks to ilovepuppies125 for the above)
A 15 year old girl holds hands with her 1 year old son. People call her a "slut", no one knows she was raped at age 14.
People call another guy "fat", no one knows he has a serious disease causing him to be overweight.
People call an old man "ugly", no one knows he experienced a serious injury to his face while fighting for our country in the war.
Re-post this if you are against bullying and stereotyping.
Try not to cry
Mommy...Johnny brought a gun to school,
He told his friends that it was cool,
And when he pulled the trigger back,
It shot with a great, huge crack.
Mommy, I was a good girl, I did what I was told,
I went to school, I got straight A's, I even got the gold!
When I went to school that day,
I never said good-bye.
I'm sorry that I had to go, But Mommy, please don't cry.
When Johnny shot the gun, he hit me and another,
And all because Johnny, got the gun from his brother.
Mommy, please tell Daddy; That I love him very much,
And please tell Zack; my boyfriend; That it wasn't just a crush.
And tell my little sister; That she is the only one now,
And tell my dear sweet grandmother; I'll be waiting for her now
And tell my wonderful friends; That they always were the best
Mommy, I'm not the first, I'm no better than the rest
Mommy, tell my teachers; I won't show up for class,
And never to forget this, And please don't let this pass
Mommy, why'd it have to be me? No one, though. deserves this.
But mommy, it's not fair, I left without a kiss.
And Mommy tell the doctors; I know that they really did try
I think I even saw one doctor, trying not to cry.
Mommy, I'm slowly dying, with a bullet in my chest,
But Mommy please remember, I'm in heaven with the rest
When I heard that great, big crack, I ran as fast as I could
please listen to me if you would,
I wanted to go to college, I wanted to try things that were new
I guess I'm not going with Daddy, On that trip to the new zoo
I wanted to get married, I wanted to have a kid,
I wanted to be an actress, I really wanted to live.
But Mommy I must go now, The time is getting late,
Mommy, tell my Zack, I'm sorry I to cancel the date.
I love you Mommy, I always have, I know you know its true
And Mommy all I need to say is, "Mommy, I love you"
In Memory of The Columbine & Virginia Tech Students Who Were Lost
Try Not to Cry
Please if you would, Don't smash this on the ground.
If you pass this on,
Maybe people will cry,
Just keep this in your heart,
For the people who didn't get to say "Good-bye".
If this touched your heart, post this in your profile
If you cried while you read this, copy this to your profile, and add your name to the list; Mysterious Miracle,Ghostkit,Goldenfeather, KeybladeAngel34, Hermione494, Lobo Argost, BrandonGraham88, mrastounding
If you almost cryed while you read this copy this to your profile, and add your name to the list; Mysterious Miracle,Ghostkit, Goldenfeather, KeybladeAngel34, Hermione494, Lobo Argost
A guy and a girl were speeding over 100km on a motorcyle.
Girl: Slow down!
Guy: No this is fun!
Girl: No it's not! Please, it's way to scary!
Guy: Then tell me you love me.
Girl: I love you. Now slow down.
Guy: Now give me a big hug.
She gave him a big hug.
Guy: Can you take off my helmet and put it on yourself? It's bothering me.
In the newspaper, the next day, a motorcycle crashed into a building because of break failure.
Two people were on it and only one survived.
The truth was, that half way down the road the guy realized his breaks were out and he didn't want the girl to know.
Instead, he had her hug him and tell him she loved him one last time. Then he had her put his helmet on so she would live even if it meant he would die.
If you would do the same for the person you love, copy and paste this into your profile.
Her name was Auroura She was only five This is what happened When she was alive
Her dad was a drunk Her mom was an addict Her parents kept her Locked in an attic
Her only friend was a little toy bear It was old and worn out And had patches of hair
She always talked to it When no one's around She lays there and hugs it Not a peep of sound
Until her parents unlock the door Some more and more pain She'll have to endure
A bruise on her leg A scar on her face Why would she be In such a horrible place?
But she grabs her bear And softly cries She loves her parents But they want her to die
She sits in the corner Quiet but thinking, "Please God, why is My life always sinking?"
Such a bad life For a sad little kid She'd get beaten and beaten For anything she did
Then one night Her mom came home high And the poor child was beaten As hours went by
Then her mom suddenly Grabbed for a blade It was sharp and pointy One that she made
She thrusted the blade Right in her chest, "You deserve to die You worthless piece of s!"
The mom walked out Leaving the girl slowly dying She grabbed her bear And again started crying
Police showed up At the small little house Then quickly barged in Everything quiet as a mouse
One officer slowly Opened a door To find the little girl Lying dead on the floor
It must have been bad To go through so much harm But at least she died With her best friend in her arms
(add this to your profile if your against child abuse)
I was walking around in a Target store, when I saw a Cashier hand this little boy some money back.
The boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old.
The Cashier said, 'I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll.'
Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him: ''Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?''
The old lady replied: ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.''
Then she asked him to stay there for just 5 minutes while she went to look a round. She left quickly.
The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.
Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to.
'It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for Christmas.
She was sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her.'
I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry.
But he replied to me sadly. 'No, Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there.'
His eyes were so sad while saying this. 'My Sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.''
My heart nearly stopped.
The little boy looked up at me and said: 'I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall.'
Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me 'I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me.'
'I love my mommy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister.'
Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.
I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. 'Suppose we check Again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?''
'OK' he said, 'I hope I do have enough.' I added some of my money to his with out him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money.
The little boy said: 'Thank you God for giving me enough money!'
Then he looked at me and added, 'I asked last night before I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that mommy could give It to my sister. He heard me!''
'I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose.''
'My mommy loves white roses.'
A few minutes later, the old lady returned and I left with my basket.
I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started.
I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind.
Then I remembered a local news paper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl.
The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma.
Was this the family of the little boy?
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the news paper that the young woman had passed away.
I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wishes before her burial.
She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.
I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed for ever. The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine.
And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him.
copy this into your profile if this touched your heart
(The above postings are curtesy of Brandon Graham 88)
I am a Christian: copy this into your profile if you are as well
I'm not afraid of death: copy this into your profile if you are not afraid either
I will be going to heaven (or whatever you call the afterlife) someday: copy this into your profile if this is true for you as well
A long time ago, there was a church in the backwoods. In this said church, there was a group of teens that never really paid any attention during the service. One day, however, that all changed. It just so happened that on that day, the church paster had invited an old friend to the congregation and, just before the service was over, he invited the man up to say a few words. Now, it just so happened that the group noticed an elderly man approaching the podium. When the senior-citizen got there, he began to speak the following words, with the group becoming more and more interested the more he talked:
"There once was a Christian father who would take his son on weekly fishing trips. One day, the son invited a friend of his on one of the said trips. The trip went smoothly, until a storm struck that shook the boat, enough to knock both children out of the boat. Right after it happened, the father knew that, with the strength of the wind and the waves in the storm, he only had enough time to save one of them. Just before he threw the rope, however, he remembered something: while his son was a Christian, like himself, the friend was not. That meant, if he saved his son, the friend would not go to heaven. However, his wife was dead, and, though his son would go to heaven, if he saved the friend, there might not be an heir to take up the duty of helping the back-country church he taught at. After a moments hesitation, though, he yelled out, 'I love you, son,' and threw the rope to the son's friend. When the father had managed to pull the boy in, his son had disappeared beneath the waves."
After the service, the group approached the elderly man. One of them spoke up, saying, "Your story was interesting, but that part where the father didn't save his son is a little hard to accept." The senior looked down, blinked a few times, and then finally said, "Well, it is a little hard to accept, but it also gave me my first true look through God's eyes during Calvery: you see, I was that father, and your paster was my son's friend"
Like the group in the story, this tale that was part of a radio broadcast touched my heart and strengthened my faith; copy this into your profile if it did the same for you.
Copy this into your profile if you heard the above story before
(the above is courtesy of me, myself, and I)
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