her story is great too

Meimei Stellaworth Short Story Translation

[Little Red Riding Hood]

ヽ(´▽`;)/  All the MJS short stories seem to be based off folklore and dreams! Hahaha. Anyway, I got about three short stories to translate here. Special thanks to Deea for providing the raw! (☞゚∀゚)☞ Enjoy~~

I’m Meimei. I live in the forest and I’m the strongest wolf.

This forest is my territory. Which means, all the people who’ve invaded the forest have fallen victim to my fangs.

Getting kill after kill, before long, it looks like I’ve become famous for being a man-eating wolf. Various hunters have come from outside the forest to attack my notorious self. Of course, I attacked them right back.

There’s not a single being who can rival me. I continue to dominate this forest as the strongest wolf.

* * *

――”Rustle, rustle.” After so long, I heard the footsteps of a human trotting through the grass. When I confirm the direction the sound’s coming from, I promptly break into a run.

Keep reading

Is it inevitably original fiction when you start writing about the great-grandparents of the canon heroine, whose own parents weren’t even named by the author? :/

It is always remarkable to me when people think that having a story featuring a character who is a minority or marginalised in some way means that they can only be in a story about being marginalised.

You can have a lesbian protagonist in a game without it being about her being a lesbian (though game stories about lesbian characters being lesbians are great too).

It’s not only able-bodied neurotypical cisgender heterosexual hetero-romantic white dudes who get to have well developed personalities and stories in their video games.

And it’s not “forced” to expect people to include diverse characters in games, it’s only “forced” when they’re not there.


Favourite ‘Agatha Christie’s Poirot’ episodes [3/10]: Lord Edgware Dies

Lady Edgware asks Poirot for help getting a divorce from her husband. That evening thirteen guests are seated at a dinner table, which is supposed to bring bad luck for the first guest to rise. Next morning Lord Edgware is dead.

A latte for Two-Face

I’m not partial to OCs but I love robinsontheroof for starting hashtagonlyingotham and wanted to see if I could do a story as to how it all started (in the world of Gotham ofc.) So, without further ado, I give you the fictional origin story of #OnlyInGotham.


thatonekidfromgotham + 

 Okay Tumblr, so I wasn’t going to post this but people will literally not stop asking about how this #OnlyInGotham thing started so here’s the story. In case you don’t know, my name is Ava Takara or as I’m known here thatonekidfromgotham. I mostly just post fandoms and crap on this blog, which you’ll know if you follow me. You’ll also know that I’m really passionate about photography and the city that I live in. And, if you’ve taken the hint in my url, you’ll know that city is Gotham. 

Cue the horrified screaming.

Gotham’s got a pretty bad reputation. Between the schizophrenic district attorneys, costumed vigilantes, psycho psychiatrists and even the occasional actually super-powered superhero, crazy must be in the water. I’m not going to lie to you. Sometimes it feels like every five minutes the news is flashing a new alert for some kind of disaster. Apocalypse Wednesdays, as my dad calls them. 

 However, do take into account there are 10 MILLION of us Gothamites. That’s a hell of a lot of people who don’t run into super-villains on a daily basis. The closest I’d ever come is when my cousin, Stan, got injected with fear toxin after bumping into the Scarecrow (I kid you not) taking the trash out at his crappy part-time job at McDonalds. From what he can remember Scarecrow just stared at him, pulled out a book, wrote a few notes and left. Just like that. He woke up in the hospital a couple of hours later. He’d crapped his pants but despite everything he still insisted it was the best high he’d ever had. Then again Stan has always been an idiot. 

 Oh, and I may have seen Batman like once. Then again it could have been the pizza guy (long story). 

 Apart from that, my life had been pretty uneventful. I have been in only a couple of crises in my short life, one of the most significant of which was during Zero Year, after the Riddler flooded Gotham. My apartment was swamped and I stupidly went back in to get my dog. I should have just waited for the police and paramedics and stuff to come. But the city was in chaos and dude. It was my dog. My dog

 So I went back in. Despite having no muscle and the swimming ability of a three-year-old, I waded through. The water was up to my waist and freezing. I was breathing fast and hard but all I could hear was my dog barking and whining frantically and all I could focus on was getting Max, my dog, to safety. I found him in my parent’s room. The room had been jammed shut by the force of the water and I couldn’t get it open. I heard the window smash, heard a dull thunk as my dog’s legs were knocked out from under him. I could hear Max yelping on the other side and I started to cry because I couldn’t get it open. What if I couldn’t save my dog? What if I had to hear him die?

Keep reading

When will fandom stop blaming marinette for keeping her and chats secret identity a secret

When will fandom stop blaming marinettes supposed insecurities for keeping chat at arms length (something she doesn’t even do in canon???)

When will people accept that marinette is just listening to tikki and being smart about her secret identity because it’s dangerous otherwise?

Seriously. The narrative in fics where chat/Adrien is the poor precious child who is hurting because marinette is being stubborn about her identity for no reason physically hurts me. Like I can’t take much more of fandom putting all of this on marinettes shoulders like this was her lofty decision made up in response to insecurities about herself that she doesn’t even have. Or even worse, having her push chat away because she’s afraid of caring too much for some reason. This wasn’t even shown to be the case. Please let it end. Ladybug/marinette loves chat. He’s her partner. She’s not pushing him away for personal reasons, she’s just being smart about their identities. Isn’t this shit like super hero 101 stuff?

Screenwriter Nico Lathouris says that the key journey of Fury Road is the love story between Max and Furiosa. “What’s broken is healed by love only. It’s our premise. She’s of the same ilk as him. Her story is not unlike his. She too has suffered great losses in her life, and she turned from grief to vengeance as well. At the end of Fury Road, I think she has redeemed herself.”

The Art of Mad Max Fury Road

i’m f i n e

Here’s the thing about my Native heritage and why I take such offense to stuff like this.

I’m 1/8th Blackfoot.  My mom is ¼th. My great-grandfather walked off a reservation in order to give his children and their children a better life.  While my great-grandfather still passed on his Blackfoot heritage, he also passed on how bad it was to be Native American to my grandfather.

My grandfather, in turn, did not pass on any of that information to my mother.  I had to get my information from my aunt, who was old enough to remember vague stories from my great-grandfather in her childhood.  My mom was too young when he passed to remember anything.  In fact, because Blackfoot natives had the stereotype of being “violent,” she was told by my grandfather when pushed that we were Cherokee (and then quickly reprimanded to “Stop asking”).

My mother married someone second-generation German American.  I got his white skin and blonde hair.  When I came out, I was my grandfather’s prized grandchild.  Why?  Because I looked white.  I was the “end goal.”  Growing up, I can’t tell you how many times my mother was mistaken for being Hispanic, how many times she was called my nanny, how many times people asked if I was even hers.  We looked so obviously different.  While I may not have known my heritage, I was made expressly aware of my privilege from a young age just by watching my mom.

Because my great-grandfather wanted us to be white, because my grandfather blocked information from being passed on, because my mom had no idea what her heritage is and because I don’t look remotely mixed, I feel like I have zero claim to anything Native American.  My aunt makes dream catchers - she doesn’t sell them but she gives them out freely.  I have one hanging in my spiritual room.  That’s it.  That’s the only reference I have to my heritage.

So when someone comes along claiming to have “no Native American blood” yet they’re somehow a “shaman accepted by the Native American community,” I have a huge problem with it.  I would give absolutely anything to know my culture, my heritage, and it was denied to me.  This is the reality for many Native American and Native American-mixed people.  If I’m not willing to cross that line and I’m 1/8th Blackfoot, you shouldn’t be willing to cross that highly-inappropriate line either.


Omg NOOOOOO!! 😂😂😂

So after having some concerns about one SB who shall not be named, I realized that this bitch is a fake – I truly enjoyed reading her blog too! Damn, she fooled me. I feel stupid.

I’m honestly not surprised though. Her stories sounded entirelyyyyyyyyyyyy too good to be true. This bitch is a great writer 😂 Word of advice: if someone’s life sounds too good to be true, like a fairy tale, it usually is a damn lie.

Girl bye. You had me fooled but after piecing together your personal photos I have come to the conclusion that you are a lyin ass hoe. I peeped what you tried to do w/ your photos lol too bad they don’t match up.

I swear, some girls will do ANYTHING to be popular these days. God bless you I hope you get the mental help you truly need because you literally created this persona in your head knowing damn well THAT ISNT YOUR LIFE SO STOP STEALING THAT GIRL’S PHOTOS OFF OF INSTA OMG.