#unripe expression

[pixiefms]

the thing that make any blood boil is not even that he ended up with the long time crush it’s that the author spent ALL THOSE CHAPTERS DEVELOPING SUCH AN INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN JAEWON AND JUNSEO ONLY FOR THEM NOT TO END UP TOGETHER

#fucking pulled a sike on us #there WAS NO DEVELOPMENT BETWEEN JAEWON AND KARAM ????????? #I DONT GET IT FUCK #IT CAME UP ON MY FYP AND I AM TWICE AS ANGRY NOE #WHAT WAS THE REASON #WHAT WAS THE FUCKING REASON #FUCK I AM PISSED OFF ALL OTHER AGAIN SOMEONE HELP #SEDATE ME #unripened expression #manhwa #webtoon #unripe expression

[xinhua-jun]

kudos to li and I for carrying this fandom with our whole backs even if it’s one post per year at a time KSBSJSBSKS

#미숙한 표현 #unripe expression #li #📌

[ao3feed-ue]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 미숙한 표현 | Unripe Expression Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ha Junseo/Lee Jaewon Characters: Ha Junseo, Lee Jaewon (Unripe Expression) Additional Tags: Angst, junseo gets his heart broken TWICE, jaewon is kinda stupid, Crying, Chatting & Messaging

#ao3feed #fanfic #Unripe Expression #미숙한 표현

[lianchuann]

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

#unripened expression #yea i am posting unripened expression in the year of our lord 2024 #waiting for the updates weekly drives me insane back then #unripe expression #ha junseo still deserved better

[itsaventingmachine]

Cheol and Mi-Ae my beloveds���

#they r baby #after school lessons for unripe apples #aslfua #cheol and miae #cheol kim #hwang miae #sketch #lowkey surprised that I got they’re expressions somewhat captured #flabbergasted Cheol is the best #Miae is my daughter I will make lunch for her and pack band aids for when she inevitably trips #although im sure Cheol will catch her #references are from episode 80 on webtoon #webtoon

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A greenish-brown soup with an herb garnish in a bowl surrounded by a halved lemon, green cardamom pods, and bay leaves, followed by a close-up of the same soup. End ID]

شوربة الفريكة / Shorabat al-frika (Green wheat soup)

Frika (فَرِيكَة or فَرِيك; also transliterated "freekeh," "frikeh," or "farik"‎) is durum wheat harvested in the early spring, while the grain is green, unripe, and tender. Durum wheat, or semolina, is a different species of wheat than that which is ground to produce all-purpose flour (common wheat, or bread wheat); it is used to make couscous (كُسْكُس), bulghur (بلغور), and many types of pasta, and is widely consumed in North Africa, the Levant, and the Arabian peninsula. After harvest, unripe durum is sun-dried and then set ablaze in piles to burn off the straw and leave just the heads of wheat, resulting in a nutty, smoky flavor; the heads are then vigorously rubbed, traditionally by hand, to remove the bran. Frika is named after this last process; the word comes from the verb "فَرَكَ" "faraka," "to rub."

A staple in Palestine, shorabat al-frika (with diacritics, Levantine pronunciation: شُورَبَة الفْرِيكَة) is often eaten as an appetizer with the fast-breaking meal during Ramadan. It may contain nothing more than an onion, olive oil, frika, and water, but sometimes contains meat (usually chicken, but also beef or lamb), green chili peppers, and spices including cardamom, black pepper, bay leaves, turmeric, cumin, and seb'a baharat; some people today like to add chickpeas. Shorabat al-frika is often prepared with the chicken broth obtained by boiling chicken to make musakhkhan (مُسَخَّن), and served alongside it. It is a warming, filling, and earthy soup, with a complexity of flavor imparted by the frika itself: a fresh tartness due to the unripe grain, and a roasted aroma due to its harvesting process.

Shorabat al-frika is in keeping with a Palestinian food ethos of using simple, local ingredients to their fullest potential. Frika itself is sometimes thought to symbolize adaptability and resilience, as it was often eaten in times of scarcity when other crops were not yet ready to be harvested. Legend holds that it was discovered in a time of similar necessity: when villagers in the eastern Mediterannean tried to salvage a field of wheat that had been burned by ambushing soldiers, they found that the grain was still edible beneath the blackened chaff, having been saved from the fire by its moisture.

Frika, due to its centuries as a staple in Palestine, has also come to symbolize acceptance, Palestinian history, and connection to the land and community. In the Palestinian diaspora and amongst internally displaced people in Palestine, food is conceived of as a form of connection to homeland across distance; continuing to make Palestinian food, and remembering or using baladi ("native," "from my country") varieties of grains, produce, and herbs, is a link to the land and an expression of the hope to return.

By the same token, though, frika has come to represent Palestinian displacement and "cultural obliteration," per Rana Abdulla. One of the ways in which Israel rhetorically justifies its existence is by claiming sole ownership of an old, organically arising culture rooted in the land: the easiest way to do this is, of course, to rebrand what was already there. Food connects and combines language (in terminology and pronunciation), culture, history, climate, and land into one web of discourses, and is therefore a prime site for colonial myth-making and ideological nation-building. Thus a construction such as "Israeli freekeh" is, in fact, an intensely political one.

Nevertheless, frika continues its life as a symbol of connection, community, and resistance during adversity in Palestine. Nasser Abufarha, of the Palestine Fair Trade Association, noted in 2015 that more and more Palestinians across the West Bank were harvesting some of their wheat early to make frika, rather than relying on cheaper, imported rice. As of October 23 2023, and in defiance of an Israeli air raid which destroyed their kitchen in 2014, Jamil Abu Assi and his cousins were using frika, alongside lentils and rice, as staples in distributing food to thousands of refugees per day in Bani Suhaila, near Khan Younis. Others in the community donated ingredients or volunteered to distribute meals.

Support Palestinian resistance by contributing to Palestine Action's bail fund or to Palestine Legal's defence fund, or by attending court or making a sign to support the Elbit Eight.

Ingredients:

1 cup (170g) frika baladia (فريكة بلدية), Levantine frika

4 cups water, or vegetarian chicken stock from concentrate

1 large yellow onion, chopped

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

1 green chili pepper (فلفل أخضر حار), sliced (optional)

1/2 tsp ground black pepper (فلفل اسود)

5 cardamom pods (حب هال)

2 Mediterannean bay leaves (ورق غار)

250g chicken (or beef) substitute, torn or cubed (optional)

Salt, to taste

Parsley, to garnish

Halved lemon, to serve (optional)

I have kept the spices relatively simple, as most cooks do, to highlight the earthy end of the taste spectrum and to allow the flavor of the frika itself to come forward. Most people add at least cardamom and black pepper; many add bay leaves to this duo; turmeric is the next most common addition I have come across. I have seen a few people add cumin, coriander, or allspice.

Frika can be found in the grains section of your local halal grocery store (labelled "فريكة", “فريك" "freekeh" or "frikeh"). Look for something that specifies “roasted.”

You may also be able to find frika at a speciality or health foods grocery store, but it might not have been fire-roasted as it is in the Levant. If your frika doesn't smell toasty, try roasting it in a dry pan on medium-heat for a few minutes until fragrant.

Frika may be found whole, cracked, or fine (نَاعِمَة‎ / na'ima). You may use any kind for this soup; most people use cracked or fine frika, because of its shorter cooking time. You can pulse whole frika a few times in a food processor or spice mill, until coarsely ground, if you prefer a fine texture but can't find fine frika.

Instructions:

1. Heat olive oil in a large pot on medium. Add onion, a pinch of salt, cardamom pods, and bay leaves and fry, stirring occasionally, until the onion is golden brown.

2. Add the chili pepper and cook briefly until softened.

3. Add frika and black pepper and roast, stirring occasionally, for a few minutes until fragrant.

4. Add the water or stock and stir to combine. Bring to a fast simmer and cook, covered, about 50 minutes for whole frika and 20 minutes for ground, until fully cooked. Add additional water as necessary. The frika will still be chewy at the end of the cooking time.

5. Fry meat substitute of your choice in olive oil with salt, black pepper, and a optionally a pinch of Palestinian seven-spice, until browned. Add to soup and stir to combine. Taste the soup and add salt and more black pepper, if necessary.

6. Garnish with whole or chopped parsley and serve warm.

The meat is usually added to this soup just after the onions, and simmered along with the frika. You can do it this way if you like, but I have never found simmering to do the texture of meat substitutes any favors.

#Palestinian #Levantine #chicken #frika #freekeh #farik #cooking

[dapper-suitor]

After reading Peter and Wendy by J.M. Barrie I have come up with my own Captain Hook design....

Here's all my citations for why he looks the way he does!

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

★ Described as having a swarthy skin tone, which means an olive or tanned complexion; "Hook nodded. He stood for a long time lost in thought, and at last a curdling smile lit up his swarthy face. Smee had been waiting for it. 'Unrip your plan, captain,' he cried eagerly," (Barrie 90).

★ Outfit modeled after King Charles the Second of England; "In dress he somewhat aped the attire associated with the name of Charles II., having heard it said in some earlier period of his career that he bore a strange resemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts;" (Barrie 81).

★ Loves flowers (Yes, actually.), hence the floral patterns on his vest and jacket; "Thus defenceless Hook found him. He stood silent at the foot of the tree looking across the chamber at his enemy. Did no feeling of compassion disturb his sombre breast? The man was not wholly evil; he loved flowers (I have been told) and sweet music (he was himself no mean performer on the harpsichord)..." (Barrie 191).

★ His hair is distinctly dark and curled; "As dogs this terrible man treated and addressed them, and as dogs they obeyed him. In person he was cadaverous and blackavized, and his hair was dressed in long curls, which at a little distance looked like black candles, and gave a singularly threatening expression to his handsome countenance." (Barrie 80).

★ Eyes of periwinkle blue, forget-me-nots; "Dark as were his thoughts his blue eyes were as soft as the periwinkle.." (Barrie 189). and, "His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not..." (Barrie 80).

★ Specifically the little thumbnail of him with red pupils represents a later trait we see in the novel, in which when he angers his eyes become red, "His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not, and of a profound melancholy, save when he was plunging his hook into you, at which time two red spots appeared in them and lit them up horribly." (Barrie 80).

★ Hook has a sort of sophisticated air to him because it is heavily implied in the story that he came from a high-class college in England before Neverland, "To reveal who he really was would even at this date set the country in a blaze; but as those who read between the lines must already have guessed, he had been at a famous public school; and its traditions still clung to him like garments, with which indeed they are largely concerned. Thus it was offensive to him even now to board a ship in the same dress in which he grappled her; and he still adhered in his walk to the school's distinguished slouch. But above all he retained the passion for good form." (Barrie 203).

Note: The grey hair streaks isn't really mentioned in the novel, but I thought it would be a cool (obvious) contrast between Hook and Pan.

#digital art #character design #character art #character analysis #peter pan #peter and wendy #j.m. barrie #peter pan disney #peter pan 2003 #literature #literary quotes #old books #peter pan 1953 #peter pan fanart #peter pan fandom #james hook #james hook fanart #captain hook #captain hook fanart #captain hook 2003

[brunchable]

Thurber's Model — PT. 1 || William Thurber × F!Reader

Word Count: 8.2K

Genre: Romance, Secrecy, Sneaking Around, Off-Limits Reader, Overwhelming Attraction

Warning: Explicit. 18+ Only. unprotected p+v sex, accidental creampie, losing innocence.

Parings: William Thurber x F!Reader

Summary: William runs off to find some solitude to relieve some of the pressured of becoming the winner of this year's student art prize. In his search for the perfect place, he finds you along the way, reading your favorite play by Shakespeare.

A/N: This is for the precious @classicrebound and for our thirsty asses ♡

“Mama says you won the award for the second time this year.” He looked down at the woman on his arm. The new expression on her face was calculating. Bloody hell. 

“Who was your inspiration?” she repeated more firmly this time. 

“My passion is the one thing that keeps me going,” he said carefully, not caring one bit for the new gleam of interest in her eyes. He didn’t expect many people to attend the museum, compared to last year’s celebration. This one was more grand, possibly because the exhibits are displayed under Dr. Reid’s museum of Arts.

“Hmmm.” She looked over his clothes as if she were taking inventory. 

He wore the latest fashion. He didn’t buy clothes often, but when he did, he went for quality. She seemed happy with what she saw if the little nod of approval was any indication. 

He desperately wanted to change the subject before she inquired about his other holdings. “So, what play did you attend?” 

Her face twisted up in disgust. “It was one of Shakespeare’s I’m afraid. I find them all a dreadful bore, but this one was most appalling. Mother insisted that we leave at intermission and I wholeheartedly agreed.” 

He stopped short. He rather enjoyed the Bard’s plays. He couldn’t think of anything in Shakespeare’s plays that would be appalling. His works are literal works of art, “What was wrong with the play?” 

“A woman was dressed in men’s clothing! It was obscene!” 

“Was the woman pretending to be her brother?” William asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes! It was dreadful.” 

“Was the play ‘As you like it’?”

“Yes.” It was one of his favourite plays. That answered that. 

“Rebecca, allow me to return you at once to your mother. I find that I need some fresh air.” Her grip on his arm suddenly tightened. 

“Fresh air sounds lovely.” She licked her lips, invitingly. Christ almighty, the girl wanted to trap him. William practically dragged her back to her mother and without another word he made his way outside. 

He stayed away from the garden and woodland. Those spots were reserved for couples who dared to have an affair in the freezing weather. Just a hundred yards from the main building was the orangery, which was bathed in the warm light of multiple lanterns. On a night like this, it was the ideal place to spend some time away from everything. He seriously doubted any attractive woman would go out in this weather for a tryst. The orangery was the safest place for him, and the fires that were kept going to keep the orange trees from withering would make the interior delightfully toasty. 

With the cold wind blowing in his face, he rushed the final twenty yards to the safety of the orangery, where he almost sighed with relief. With the fire crackling and oranges ripening in the background, he felt he could easily pass the next four hours here. Upon taking a closer look at the orange trees, he sighed in dismay at the realisation that this orangery had been erected relatively recently. The orange trees weren't very big, and their fruit was still unripe.

It was unfortunate that he hadn't brought anything to do while waiting, like a book or snacks. Not even an hour after eating, he was starving. It was nothing new. His hunger never subsided. Despite the fact that no one in his family ever completely understood it, at least they'd stopped making fun of him for it long ago. Nothing about spending four hours in the orangery with nothing to do or eat sounded enjoyable to him, but then, neither did going to an awards night, hearing the same compliments over and over again.

A number of oil lamps gave him sufficient light to see by. Because of the overwhelming brightness, couples often avoided coming here. There was no place for them to take cover if they were discovered. A soft noise caught his attention. He cautiously made his way through a grove of orange trees, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw what lay beyond. A woman with gorgeous brown hair that sparkled like the finest silk in the lantern light sat on a cushioned bench, reading a tiny book and laughing gently to herself.

Your laughter was like a balm to his soul, instantly relieving his anxieties even as his heart skipped a beat. As you flipped the page of your book, he didn't see that he'd inched closer to her until you let out a tiny sigh. He had no business intruding. This woman obviously came here to be alone. At last, he backed away from the situation reluctantly. He was so anxious to get out of there without being seen that he accidentally knocked over a bucket, which shattered the tranquillity of the orangery.

“Who’s there?” you demanded as you placed your book down on the bench beside you and stood. 

William felt his stomach turn and his breath caught in his throat at the first real view of your face. You were excruciatingly beautiful with brown eyes. You were, without a doubt, the most stunning lady he'd ever seen, and he desperately desired you. He gave his head a slight shake. He didn’t even know this woman. What in the hell was wrong with him?

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

“I can see you, so you might as well come out,” You said, placing your small book on the cushion beside you. 

A tall, dark-eyed man with a dashing smile walked forwards, and you studied him with interest. His short, black hair was fashioned in a different way than other men, but it suited him. Just like you, he had a nice tan. Your mother always seemed to find something to moan about, and your skin tone was one of them, but you were too busy enjoying the great outdoors to mind. You wanted the sun's warmth so badly that you ignored the fact that it was changing your skin tone.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave,” he said in a deep voice that you found soothing as he bowed slightly before taking a step back to do just that. 

“No, please. Do not feel forced to leave. If you just wanted some peace and quiet, I couldn't be so callous as to send you back out into the cold. This orangery, I think, is big enough for the two of us to retreat to in peace,” you said with a smile, hating the idea of turning anyone out into the cold and forcing him to return back to an exhibit that you hadn’t been able to escape fast enough.

“How do you know that I was searching for solitude? Perhaps I was meeting a lover?” he said, regretting it before the last word left his lips. 

What the hell was wrong with me? She would probably slap me or faint dead away at my lack of propriety. I truly was an idiot. William thought to himself.

You laughed instead, you actually laughed. It was gentle, mesmerising, and real. Compared to the phoney, tittering laughter of ladies like Rebecca, this was a breath of fresh air. Women like her made up their entire identities so that they would be accepted by the tonne and have a chance at finding a spouse who, like most men, wanted nothing more than a warm body to deliver an heir and didn't want the hassle of a woman with a brain.

“What’s so amusing, Miss? Are you implying that I wouldn't be able to persuade a woman to have a tryst with me?” he drawled, wondering if you knew just how charming your laugh was. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you stopped laughing, but at least your smile remained. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sure a man as handsome as you would have no difficulties finding a woman to share your time.” 

William was unable to suppress the idiotic grin that twisted up his lips. Naturally, he'd heard the word "handsome" thrown around to describe him before, but for reasons he couldn't explain, he took great pride in your use of it to describe him. “Then what brought you to the conclusion that I was looking for privacy?”

You shrugged as you sat back down, leaning to the side so that you could focus your attention on him. “Well, there’s the fact that this particular orangery is far beyond the appropriate distance from the Museum. No man is going to come out here with a woman unless he’s looking to be trapped.” He couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“Another factor is the climate. The weather is rather chilly. It's likely that a lady would gripe about having to walk that far to reach the orangery. It's also possible that she'd flat-out reject the idea because she's aware it's too chilly to go outdoors and that she'd be spotted if she tried to recover her shawl.”

Once again William nodded in agreement.

“Then of course there is the obvious.”

“Which is?” he asked, moving closer.

“A gentleman would not meet a woman here. He would escort her here so she wouldn't have time to reconsider or accept an offer from another man. Also, it would take too much time away from the party for both participants. There would be the time spent waiting for the other person to come, the time spent in the meeting itself, and the time spent afterwards by whoever stayed behind so that it didn't look like the two of you had left together."

He couldn’t help grinning. The woman wasn't just beautiful; she was intelligent, too. He cast his eyes around the expansive space as an idea formed in his mind. “Hmm, you’ve given this some thought. Are you perhaps meeting someone here? Or did he already leave?” he asked, making sure to add a teasing note to his tone.

Your smile weakened a bit as you shook your head. “No, there have never been any meetings for me and there probably never will be,” you admitted with a small shrug and a wistful tone that he almost missed.

“Why not?”

“I don’t plan on marrying,” you explained with a small smile.

“Why don’t you wish to marry?” he asked, forcing himself to sound casual. He wasn’t offering. Oh, hell no. It was unlikely he would ever get married unless he really needed an heir to carry on the family name. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with someone who was constantly in his way and needed him to make her happy.

You looked thoughtful for a moment before you spoke. “I don’t want to be any man’s property."

“I thought that’s why these things,” he gestured back towards the party, “were thrown so that young women could find themselves a husband. So, they could select an appropriate husband, someone to take care of them.”

You shrugged indifferently. “Yes, I dare say that many of the women are here for that reason and would find me utterly foolish, because I don’t wish to find a husband at one of these events.” 

“Then why did you come?” He took another step closer. 

“Probably for the same reason that you did.” 

“Which is?” he prompted. He didn’t want you to stop talking for fear that one of them would have to leave. He wanted to make this last, but more importantly, he wanted to see your smile and hear your laugh one more time before he had to do the right thing and walk away. 

“Well,” you looked thoughtful, “in your case I would assume that either your mother or your father persuaded you to attend and critique this exhibition. If I had to guess, I would say that your mother was the one that expected your attendance.” 

“Oh?” 

You nodded firmly. “Your mother, definitely your mother. If it was your father you would have simply made an appearance, danced with a few women to make him think that you were looking for a wife and be done with it.”

He agreed. “If it was my mother? What reason would I have to attend then?” 

“Most mothers wish for their sons to marry for a simple reason, grandchildren. You came here even though you clearly don’t want to be here. You came to make your mother happy, because she requested your attendance and you obviously care a great deal for your mother. Instead of simply leaving, you searched for a place to hide.” 

He arched an eyebrow at that. “Or it could be that I came here because I'm the one getting critiqued and can't leave until I hear every single opinion people have to say.” he drawled. 

Your eyes slowly moved down his body in an assessing manner, but not in the same way that Rebecca had looked him over. Your gaze didn’t annoy him. Your gaze made him stand straighter as every muscle in his body flexed under your scrutiny, making him feel like an idiot even as he wondered if you liked what you saw. 

“You’re obviously a man with means. You could have hired a hack and left. There’s always the card room for escape or you could have simply left with a friend.” 

“Or walked,” he added. 

You smiled. “I much prefer walks myself. Yes, you could have walked provided that your home was close enough.” 

“Two miles.” 

“That’s not too far away.” 

“No, it’s not.” He rather enjoyed walks. He found himself taking walks every evening. Every night, he went for a walk. He discovered that he still loved strolling even in the bustling city of London when he visited. The obnoxious aromas and bustling crowds of the city did not seem to deter him.

He eyed you carefully. You had a delicate honey tone to your skin. You did not appear too slim or too fit. Your breasts were good size, not too big, but perfect for his hands, and from what he recalled from when you stood, your hips were generous. He was willing to bet your legs were well defined, probably from hours of walking. 

“So, you’re here because your parents want you to marry,” he surmised from what little he knew about you and what he knew about women of your station in general. 

You gave him a dreamy smile that made his chest tighten. “When I was a little girl I wanted nothing more than to have a season. It all seemed so magical, balls, dancing, and being courted by handsome men,” you added the last with a teasing tone. He grinned. 

“Sounds like every girl’s dream to find Prince Charming. What happened to change that dream?” he asked, coming closer. He was now standing only a few feet away from you. His original thought that you were beautiful shattered. You were nothing less than a goddess. 

You sighed heavily. “Nicholas.”

 He felt a tug of unease. Was it jealousy? 

“So, you’re in love with this Nicholas?” Please God, no. You laughed. 

“No. He’s my brother-in-law. My sister married for love. She didn’t care about a title or money. He made her happy, still does. They are the happiest couple that I know and their boys are extraordinary.” 

“And you want that for yourself,” he surmised. 

“It will most likely never happen for me,” you said with a careless shrug that tore at his heart and left him wondering why he cared so much.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

You certainly weren't going to reveal your privileged background to a complete stranger. It could be dangerous if he turned out to be after your money. He only needs to raise the alert for you to be compromised and obliged to take his hand. You couldn't make it through life in a loveless marriage.

“So, if you wish to marry for love, why don’t you enjoy evenings like this more?” 

You waved your hand lazily in the air. “This? This is all orchestrated. People come here looking for the right connection, the right amount of money, and the best gossip. No one comes here looking for love. I knew before I came out that I would never find love at a party. It would just happen…..somehow, somewhere.” 

He took another step forward. “But you came anyway.” 

You looked wistful. “Until the day I marry, I belong to my father and then to my husband. I am considered nothing more than property. If I wish to have certain rights or benefits I must make the man in my life happy first. Then if he is generous I might be allowed to follow my own pursuits.” 

Of course that would all change with your inheritance. Without a word, he moved to sit next to you on the padded bench. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“Sounds unfair, but I don’t understand what type of pursuits a woman could have that a man would not allow. Surely your father would encourage you to embroider, watercolour, and play the piano.” 

“I’m afraid that you would find me quite unusual then.” 

“Try me.” He tilted his head to the side to watch you as you blew out a deep breath. 

“If I don’t smile, look pretty, attend the right function, accept the attention of the right gentlemen, my father will rule my life with an iron fist. Embroidery is not a hobby of mine. It seems like a better use of my sewing skills to make something warm for people rather than something just for looks, thus I prefer to make quilts. And yet, despite being forbidden to, I find pleasure in the kitchen. Society dictates that no woman should ever enjoy that. We’re meant to like ordering other people to do that for us.” you said with a conspiratorial smile that he found utterly adorable. 

“But not you,” he murmured, smiling. “I bet you make delicious biscuits,” he teased.

You grinned devilishly. “My brother-in-law and nephews swear by them.” 

He took another look at your slender figure. “You don’t look like someone that enjoys cooking.” 

You rolled your eyes in a rather fetching manner. “I like to cook, not to eat.” 

“My apologies.” He couldn’t stop smiling near you. William was sure that he looked foolish, but at the moment he truly didn’t care. 

“So, tell me what other scandalous pursuits do you enjoy? Smuggling? Piracy?” he teased. 

You laughed. “No, I’m not quite that shameful. I enjoy reading, attending the theatre, taking walks, gardening, shooting, and swimming." 

His eyes widened in surprise at that. 

“I enjoy things that my father believes are best suited for men,” you explained with an impish smile.

“I see.” He nodded, surprised by your list of pursuits. For most women, the idea of another woman enjoying such things would be completely revolting. In all honesty, he knew that most men would feel the same way. It had always baffled him because all of those things were worthwhile.

“I’m sure that you do,” you mumbled. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone that. My father would be furious if he found out that I told you. Not that it matters anymore I suppose.” 

“Why doesn’t it matter anymore?” he asked in a soft tone. 

“It just doesn't," you said with a shrug. 

He was willing to leave it alone for the moment, but he desperately needed you to continue talking. “Have you enjoyed being out in society?” 

You nodded. “I’ve enjoyed spending more time with my siblings. It’s been nice being seen as a friend and not just a little sister. They mean the world to me. I’ve enjoyed the theatre, some of the dinners, and even being courted.” you could have sworn he frowned, but it was gone before you could be sure. “All the men that have courted me have turned into dear friends.” 

“But you still don’t like being out in society,” he hedged. 

You turned your head and met his gaze. Your faces were less than a foot apart. William fought the urge to lower his gaze to your lips. 

“Do you?” 

“No, I don’t. I don’t like the deceptions. I hate gossip. I don’t like being pursued for my position or money. I hate having women trying to trap me into marriage. I despise the game that I’m expected to play. I don’t want a simpering woman to bow to my every whim. It’s ridiculous.” 

You nodded in agreement as you looked away. “Yes, it is.” 

After a few moments of surprisingly comfortable silence he spoke. “May I ask why you’re here playing along if you don’t want to marry?” 

When you looked back at him his eyes dropped to your lips, your full, deliciously pink lips. He raised his gaze back quickly before he did something that he would regret. 

“A bargain, I suppose,” you said simply. 

“A bargain? Are they trying to force you into marriage? Is your family in need of money?” Another thought occurred to him, one that made his stomach twist in dread. “You weren’t caught…er…” 

Please don’t let her be carrying another man’s child. 

You lightly swatted his shoulder and laughed. “No! Goodness no. The men my parents are pushing my way are tiresome men like Johann Smithfield.”

William nearly choked on air.

Your smile disappeared, instantly replaced with a worried frown. “Oh no, he’s a friend of yours and I’ve just insulted him,” you said, sounding truly upset.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Smithfield, a friend? No! The man shows off every minute of the day. I couldn’t imagine a fate worse than spending an hour in that man’s company.”

“Thanks. Your words have been really comforting,” you said dryly, earning another chuckle from him. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d felt so relaxed in another person’s company. He normally kept his guard up, refusing to allow anyone to get the better of him.

You sighed heavily. “I’m afraid my parents aren’t happy with my state of life. I’m twenty-three and while they feel that I should be married by now, I don’t. I’ve turned down every suitor who’s asked for my hand. They’re afraid they’ll end up with another spinster on their hands.” They also didn’t want your inheritance left in your control, but there was no need to tell him that.

“How many men have asked for you?” he asked. He knew that it wasn’t proper to ask, but he somehow knew that you wouldn’t mind. You didn’t seem the type. You seemed honest and forthright. It was a welcome change.

Your face scrunched up delightfully. “Fifty-five.”

“Fifty-five men have asked for your hand and you’re only twenty-three? Good lord!” 

You shrugged indifferently. “I’m easy to get along with.”

He liked that. He appreciated that you didn't mention your stunning good looks or the possibility of a dowry (even though he knew that at least some of the suitors were interested in either). You would be a highly sought after prize if you had a substantial dowry to go along with your stunning good looks.

“I believe it.”

Your hand found his. You gave it a small squeeze before releasing it. “I’m sorry. You came out here looking for some solitude.” you flicked your hand casually in the air. “I’ll leave you.” you reached down at your other side and picked up a small book with a well-worn leather cover.

“What are you reading?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing, he didn't want you to leave. It hadn’t escaped his notice that you’d brought a book to an event  “You sneak off a lot, don’t you?”

You gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m afraid that I do have a tendency of making myself scarce.”

He noticed the invite card on your wrist. It was full, which didn't surprise him.

“And the book?” 

You held it up and shrugged. “It’s one of my favourite plays. It helps me relax. I had a feeling that I would need it tonight by the way that my mother was behaving.” 

He couldn’t quite make out the words from the worn cover. “Which play?” 

Your whole face lit up. You obviously took great joy from your book. “'As You Like It’ by Shakespeare. It’s my absolute favourite,” you said dreamily. 

William groaned. “I’m going to have to kiss you now.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

You didn’t have a chance to respond before his lips were touching yours. You were taken aback by the tender touch as he gently caressed your lips with his own, which prevented you from forming any words. Your hands went straight to his chest without any conscious thought. You were prepared to shove him away so that you could leave before someone found you and then were forced into a marriage that you didn’t want when something occurred to you.

What if this was your one and only opportunity to find out what it was like to be with a man, especially one who you really desired? You didn't want to go through life full of things you wished you'd done differently. You didn't want to look back on your life and wonder what you'd be missing out on if you hadn't tied the knot since you knew that's what your future held. You made the decision right at that moment that if you were destined to spend the rest of your life as a bachelorette, then you were going to savour this moment with...whatever his name was and give in to the overpowering attraction that you felt for him. After a moment, you allowed yourself to relax and to enjoy his kisses and the sensations that were teasing and tormenting your body as you lost yourself to his touch.

He brushed his lips over yours once, twice and once again. Your mouth was soft and sweet, but it wasn’t enough. He ran the tip of his tongue over your bottom lip. You gasped in surprise, opening your mouth ever so slightly, but it was enough for him. He tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss.

You didn’t know what to think when his lips moved against yours except that somehow for some reason it felt right, perfect. His kisses weren’t frantic or sloppy. They were sweet. When he teasingly slid his tongue inside your mouth you were too stunned at first to react to the invasion. Then slowly you began to melt in his arms. Your hands slid up his chest, enjoying the feel of hard muscle beneath his coat until they found his shoulders.

He groaned as he pulled you against him, enjoying himself until his damn conscience nagged at him. As wonderful as it felt to kiss you, he knew by the unpracticed strokes of your tongue and lips that you were innocent. He pulled back and looked into your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t end this. This had to be your choice, because he sure as hell wasn’t about to stop this if he had a choice in the matter.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You watched each other, panting slightly as you waited for the other to put a halt to this insanity. Slowly, he moved in, giving you a chance to stop this even as he prayed that you wouldn't. When his mouth touched yours again it was anything but timid. This kiss was hot, wild, and possessive. Words were beyond them. William pulled you closer until your breasts were pressed more firmly against his chest.

You ran your fingers through his hair, enjoying the soft feel of it. He moved his mouth away from yours, nibbling on your ear and neck. He slipped his fingers beneath the top of your gown and slowly pulled down the material, taking your shift down as well until your breasts were bare to him.

Still neither spoke.

He ran his tongue from your neck down to your breasts, leaving a wet trail behind that had your toes curling. You moaned as you ran your hands down his back, encouraging him to continue when you should be pushing him away and running as fast as your legs could carry you back to the safety of the event. He ran his tongue in a circular motion around one taut nipple before he pulled the hard pebble into his mouth, effectively killing any thoughts you might have had of ending this.

He reached up and cupped your other breast. He weighed it in his hand, squeezed it, and ran his thumb around the firm nipple. He held the breast up for his mouth and, after one last lick of the nipple he’d been worshipping, his mouth greedily accepted the offering. He licked and sucked the large breast until you were moaning louder and digging your fingers into his shoulders, desperate for more.

You thought you were going to die from the pleasure he was giving you. It felt incredible. Better than you’d ever imagined, but something was missing. After a moment you realised what that something was. You needed to touch him, too. Deciding that you weren't going to wait for an invitation, you worked his shirt off, desperate for the contact.

He was surprised when he felt your hands working the buttons of his coat, but immensely pleased nonetheless. Releasing your breasts, he pulled his cravat off and shrugged off his outer garments, leaving only his shirt until that too was gone.

You reached out with trembling hands and ran your fingers down his chest, enjoying the feel of his warm smooth skin over hard muscle. You ran your fingers tentatively over one flat nipple, making him groan. Your hands moved down to trace the muscles that made up his flat stomach. He groaned again, but didn’t say or do anything to stop you.

You wanted to keep touching him, but your arms were effectively pinned to your sides by your dress, limiting your movements. You worried your bottom lip nervously as you pulled your arms out and pushed the dress and shifted down around your waist. You watched as he ran hungry eyes over you. His response gave you the courage to continue. Pushing aside your nervousness, you leaned in and kissed him. William grabbed your waist and held you firmly as both of you kissed almost desperately.

Never breaking the kiss, he helped you to your feet until both of you were standing. He reached behind you and undid the buttons of your dishevelled dress. He slowly pushed it down and waited patiently until you stepped out of your dress, leaving you naked except for your stockings and slippers. Only one person had seen you naked before and that had been your maid. You should be embarrassed, but oddly enough with him you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. You felt beautiful, wanted and cherished.

You watched as he kneeled down in front of you. He gently rolled your stockings down, taking your slippers off in the process. He pressed hot kisses to your skin as he made his way back up to your mouth. You pulled him into your arms and kissed him hungrily, unable to get enough of him.

His hands roamed over your body, touching your arms, breasts, stomach, back, bottom and legs. Every touch made your stomach tighten and the area between your legs ache. You wanted more, but didn’t know what.

William seemed to know. He moved his mouth to your neck and suckled your skin on the way back to your breasts. Once he found your nipple, his hand worked its way between your legs. He cupped you and ran his fingers through slick folds. You moaned loudly, unable to help yourself.

When he slipped a finger inside you, he found you hot, wet, and ready. He groaned and moved his mouth back to yours while he worked a finger in and out of you. Soon you were moving against his finger, your body desperate for release. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t even think of anything beyond getting inside you.

His other hand worked frantically at his pants. With a groan, he broke off the kiss and removed his hand from the honeyed heaven he couldn't wait to explore. He reached down, pushed his pants down and pulled his boots off until he was naked as well.

His lips quickly made their way back to yours. It was a desperate need that he couldn’t deny. He gasped and then moaned loudly into your mouth when he felt your fingers run curiously over his erection. Never in a million years had he thought that you would be this passionate, hadn’t known that it was possible.

He reached between you and gently wrapped your hand around his length and moved it, showing you what he liked. You did it, making him pant and groan. He slid his hand back between your legs, sliding a second finger inside you until you were moaning and crying softly into his mouth. They stood there for several minutes as pleasure soared through their bodies.

It was too much for any sane man to take. He pulled his hand away and pushed you gently onto the long cushioned bench with his body brushing your hand away. He kissed you deeply as he positioned himself. Part of him was aware that he was very likely about to take your virginity, but he didn’t care. You weren't saying anything and neither was he. Both of you were too far-gone at the moment to care about rules, propriety or the consequences that were most likely going to tear your lives apart.

William aimed himself and pushed in, unable to wait any longer. He heard your gasp of pain and kissed you deeply, trying to distract you. The tip of his shaft came in contact with the proof of your innocence. When you didn't protest, scream, or demand that he get off you, he pulled back and thrust in until he was buried deep inside of you.

Somehow he was able to hold back when everything in him demanded that he move. One look at your beautiful face and he was knocked on his ass. You were heartbreakingly beautiful as you tried to give him a reassuring smile even as tears trailed down your face. He pressed tender kisses to your cheeks, kissing away your tears, wanting to reassure you that he would take care of you.

He moved his mouth back to yours and he kissed you slowly, trying to show you how much being with you meant to him. He’d never felt so much for another person in his entire life and for someone he didn’t know it surprised him. He never allowed anyone to get close to him, and didn't trust anyone. He couldn't understand how you consumed his every wish and desire. He wanted to hold you all night and keep you safe from harm, something that he’d never wanted to do with another woman.

Soon, you grew accustomed to the invasion and began to wiggle beneath him, testing his control. He slowly rolled his hips making sure that you were truly ready for him. He could feel your mouth curve into a smile beneath his and that’s when he realised that he was smiling as well, making him chuckle. For the first time in a long time, he felt carefree. He kissed you deeply as he slowly thrust inside you, enjoying the feel of wet silken walls caressing his cock.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to hold him inside you. William cupped your breast, gently squeezing it as his thumb ran over your hard nipple. Moans, crackles of the fire, and the sounds of bodies gently slapping against each other echoed throughout the dimly lit orangery.

William could feel your body tighten like a vice around him. He groaned as he moved harder and faster, making you cry out in pleasure. Your fingernails dug into his back, but he didn’t care. He opened his eyes and watched as your world exploded. He needed you to find your release before he could pull out. He was determined to make this good for you. Your body began squeezing ruthlessly around his length. As good as it felt to have you grip his cock like this, it felt even better knowing that he’d been the one to give you this pleasure. Hell, he wanted to laugh and scream for joy that this beautiful minx found her moment with him. His minx.

The reality of the moment hit him hard. You were still squeezing him and moaning. Your mouth found his neck and kissed it greedily, sucking and licking and driving him out of his goddamn mind. He couldn’t hold back. He desperately needed to pull out. It was getting too close. Just one more thrust he told himself, just one more.

As his release rushed up on him, he gasped, trying to find the strength to pull out of you. Just as he somehow found the willpower to pull out you began squeezing him again, completely shattering his resistance. His head dropped back and he bit back a roar of pleasure as he found his own release. It was the most intense moment of his life. He continued to move until he was sure that you were done. When he felt your walls squeeze gently around him one last time, he fell on you, lazily kissing your neck, chin and mouth. Still neither of you spoke.

William was too weak to speak. It was the oddest way to take a woman’s virginity, without any spoken words of promise or explanation. He’d always been a gentle lover, taking a woman slowly to prolong his release. He'd never even taxed himself before. Right now his body was exhausted and soaked. This was the most intense sexual experience of his life and he didn’t even know your name.

Not that he ever made love to an innocent before, but surely something should have been said. Names should have been exchanged at the very least. It was without question the most passionate night of his life. He’d never been so moved by lust or need before to make him this desperate to make love to a woman.

He pulled back to look at you, expecting you to cry, scream or hit him. He’d been a cad taking your innocence. But instead of doing what he’d expected, what he deserved, you smiled sweetly up at him and pressed a tender kiss to his mouth. William turned the kiss into a slow, deep display of appreciation, passion and need. He was still inside of you and surprised to discover that he was hardening again. He wanted you once more, desperately, but he couldn’t do that to you.

He took a steadying breath and slowly began to pull out, however, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and trapped him. He raised an eyebrow in question. Then you spoke for the first time since you'd started. “Can we do it again?” you asked shyly.

Will could only chuckle. He leaned down and kissed you. “Yes, minx, we can do it again.” He punctuated every word with a slow thrust of his hardening shaft, "In one condition. . ." He paused his hips from grinding against you.

"What is it?" You whispered breathlessly.

"Let me paint an intimate portrait of you. You'd make a perfect model." Will whispers his condition against your ear, causing electricity to shoot down your spine. 

You placed your palms over his chest and pushed him away, "And be showcased in exhibits like this for the world to see? Forget it." 

"I didn't say anything about showing it to the world, my lady. It's intimate, it's private. It's only for my eyes to admire." Will lowered his head, his lips grazing yours as he spoke these bold statements. 

A broad smile curved in your lips, "I like you." 

He took you slowly this time, enjoying every single thrust inside your body. You were passionate, very passionate. You weren't content with lying there while he bedded you. You kissed his mouth, chin, and neck greedily while your hands ran through his hair, down his back, and finally cupped his ass. He could swear that you moaned with pleasure just from touching him.

He broke the kiss and pulled back just far enough away so that he could watch your face. You smiled shyly at him. You were so damn beautiful. He slowed his rhythm and made his thrusts shallower, stressing each movement. You licked your lips hungrily.

“You like that, don’t you, minx?” 

“Y-yes, please don’t stop.” 

He shook his head. “Never.”

He gently took your hands and held them above your head, entwining your fingers as he made love to you. The gesture made what you were doing feel more intense. Soon you were throwing your head back and whimpering.

William took your mouth, kissing you deeply as he quickened his thrusts inside you. You gripped his hands tightly. He felt your body tighten around him once again. There was no point in pulling out now. The damage was already done. You exploded at the same moment. William didn’t bother trying to hide his pleasure this time. Both of you were too far away from the loud exhibit for anyone to hear you both. Even if they weren’t, there was no way to stop him now.

“Oh God!” he roared.

He collapsed on top of you, sweaty and sated. He didn’t know many women who appreciated a sweaty man on top of them, so he moved to roll off you when your small warm arms wrapped around his shoulders.

His minx pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. You pulled him closer while you ran your hands over his damp back in a soothing motion. He kissed your cheek and was surprised when you sighed with pleasure. He couldn’t help but wonder how women could be so completely different.

You moved your head back so that you could look into his eyes. “Thank you for tonight. I’ll always remember it.” you looked and sounded so grateful. He couldn’t imagine what he'd done for you besides take your innocence without asking. He shouldn’t be thanked. He should be shot.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Minx,-”

“Shhh,” you pressed a finger to his mouth. “I don’t want you to feel guilty about this. It was perfect. This will always be the most passionate night of my life and I will always treasure it. Please don’t be mad. I’m not.”

“Minx,” he began again, “you should be mad…what we did….what I did was inexcusable. I-“ 

“No, no words, no apologies. Just let it remain this perfect moment between two strangers who found comfort with each other.”

Comfort? It was a hell of lot more than comfort. It was intense, indescribable, and possibly the stupidest thing he’d ever done. He’d just got himself leg shackled to this beautiful stranger.

After a long pause, he reluctantly nodded. There was no sense in arguing with you. He would never force a woman to do anything that you didn’t want to do. He certainly wasn’t about to thank this woman for the most wonderful night of his life by robbing you of your freedom without justification.

“How’s my hair?” you asked after both of you were finished redressing yourselves. 

The smile took on a different meaning as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Perfect.”

“Also, here,” he said suddenly as he searched his pockets. He pulled out a small pencil stub and a small piece of parchment from his jacket pocket and wrote his name and address on it.

With a chuckle, you took the folded piece of parchment and placed it in you reticule. “Happy?”

He smiled. “Extremely.”

“Shall I go first and make my excuses to leave?”

He respectively nodded. “Thank you for a most wonderful evening, minx.” 

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you said, smiling shyly as you turned away and headed for the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

You had to force a pleasant smile and a deliberate stride through the crowded halls, even if all you wanted to do was get away from everyone and find a quiet place to help your pounding heart. As you made your way to an office, you avoided the many unwelcome suitors and, more crucially, your mother by blending in with the crowd. With no second thoughts, you slammed the door shut and locked it, then sank to the floor.

It only took a few seconds for reality to sink in. A sensation of your heart pounding in your chest was present. You just lost your virginity at a party to some random bloke you didn't know. While it was an amazing experience, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if someone had found both of you or if he had been a fortune hunter. You could at this very moment be forced to announce your engagement to a man that you didn't know.

Your entire future could have been ruined in a matter of minutes all because you allowed yourself to be carried away in a moment of weakness. You'd been so foolish and so incredibly lucky.

How could you have done something so irrational? You had a plan for your life and it most certainly didn’t involve making love to a man you didn't know in a well-lit orangery where anyone could have stumbled upon you. In a matter of months you were going to turn twenty-four and gain control over your inheritance. Then you would move to your north estate where you would live out the rest of your life away from the nonsense of this town.

You'd been such a foolish woman tonight allowing yourself to be swept away by a deep alluring voice, good looks, beautiful eyes and an overwhelming need to do the wrong thing. You'd been helpless to deny him. When his lips had touched yours, it felt like a fire had been lit in your body and you couldn't seem to get enough of him. Your cheeks burned with humiliation. What he must think of you!

A rather disturbing thought occurred to you. What if you ran into each other at another event or a party? Would he expect a repeat of tonight? Would you allow it? It scared you how quickly you were able to answer that question.

Yes, you would. If you were given another opportunity to be in his arms, you would not hesitate even for a minute. You'd risk everything for another moment with him. Knowing how weak you were when it came to the handsome stranger and what was at risk, you decided there was only one course of action left for you. You had to leave Arkham sooner than you'd originally planned.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

“There you are!” One of his professors, Mr. Dixon said brightly, too damn brightly.

William glanced around the large crowded space, hoping to find his minx. True to your word you had left. Now he was left at this dreadful event with memories of you. He could simply ask around about you, but then that would put them in an awkward position. People would want to know why he was interested and tongues would wag. 

"Where have you been, boy? Dr. Reid is waiting to see you. Need I remind you that you're the winner of the student art prize?"

"No need, Sir." Will supplied a subtle impatient sigh.

Dixon releases a small grunt and straightens Will's collar and tie, "There, much better. Come along. You wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

No one in this place would suspect that Dixon had William's arm in a death grip that would no doubt leave a large bruise. Not that Will minded. He would have other marks on his body from his minx. He barely stopped himself from grinning like an idiot. You truly were wonderful, he thought just before he spotted Dr. Reid and a few other committee members standing in front of his artworks, making his smile disappear instantly out of nervousness.

“You must be William Thurber,” Dr. Reid said with a warm smile as he reached out and took Will's hand firmly into his own. The man was graying, but still an impressive sight.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Reid,” Will smiled and out of the corner of his eye he saw who he assumed was Dr. Reid's wife whisper something into a young man's ear. The young man shot his mother an annoyed look and walked away, clearly displeased with whatever his mother said.

“I must say that you are one talented artist, my boy. The way you capture beauty in your artwork is truly. . . Captivating. Congratulations.” Dr. Reid said with a warm smile that was nothing like the fake smile his wife currently had plastered to her face.

“Thank you very much,” Will said. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dr. Reid and his wife part. A second later a young woman was practically shoved between them. He saw Joe gasp and his eyes widened. Mr. Dixon looked very pleased, as did his other classmates. 

William turned around to see what they were looking at and smiled. His minx. 

“Mr. Dixon, William, Joe, I believe none of you have met my youngest daughter, (Y/N)?” Dr. Reid said proudly. 

William felt his blood drain away from his head. Oh, hell.

#ben barnes #william thurber x you #william thurber x reader #william thurber x y/n #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fanfic #ben barnes fluff #ben barnes smut #the cabinet of curiosities au #william thurber

[lej222]

Exploring ASLFUA Through Symbolism - The Importance of Year 1999

Hello guys! :) I'm so happy for all the messages that I've received, and while many of you asked me to post theories, this one will rather be an observation about Unripe Apples, but I hope it will be interesting enough. :)

To start off, many people have noticed that the year the story takes place in, 1999, is referenced in the Korean title of After School Lessons. While it might seem insignificant at first, I firmly believe that there is a connection between what happens in the world and Miae's personal growth story. Let me explain.

The importance of 1999

1999 was a symbolic year for many reasons. It was the last year of the century, and many people celebrated the beginning of a new millenium (even if there are arguments supporting 2001 as the start of it). When something long ends, it means that something new also starts. 1999 was a transition period in the minds of many - some people believed the end of the year would sign the end of humanity, like how it was highlighted in the first chapters of the webtoon as a joke. So aside from the obvious change in years, it also had a spritual aspect - ending one part of your old life, and starting anew as a different person, also moving on. Does it sound familiar? Because this is exactly what happens to Miae in the story.

Miae is in a transition period in her life - middle school is soon ending and she has to go to high school. She meets someone from her childhood who becomes her first love. And most importantly, Miae grows as a person while meeting new people and understanding their perspectives (or so she probably will, more about this later on). As a new century starts, Miae has to say goodbye to old friends and embrace new challenges. Which, if my prediction is correct, will mark the end of the story. The end of the year will mean a stage of Miae's life also concludes, while a new chapter will start (high school, new friends, new experiences, etc.) But how is it really presented for us readers?

The world revolves around Miae - until it doesn't

While Cheol and Miae are both protagonists of the story, one could argue Miae gets the most focus in the narrative. We see most of her thoughts, her memories, her interactions with others, her family, etc. While Cheol's growth is a big part of the story, his development is nearly concluded at the end of the first part. Cheol gains confidence, friends, he becomes more expressive, he falls in love. What we can expect from him is his confrontation with the school bully and the resolution of his romance with Miae. Cheol seems immature at first, but with Miae's help he learns and matures. On the other hand, Miae seemingly becomes more immature as the story progresses. It sounds contradictory, because I've just said she was the catalyst to Cheol's growth and has helped him understand when he was wrong. But Miae's world is limited, and it becomes even more obvious as the story unfolds.

Like any kid, Miae has problems that seem trivial for adults, but were probably concerns for a lot of us when we were at her age. She has to study although she hates it, likes hanging out with her friends and read comic books, wants to buy new things and falls in love. Her life is seemingly like a comic book - she feels like the protagonist, every encounter with Cheol feels fateful, and she can, even if it requires effort, befriend anyone and understand them. Like any other teenager, Miae feels like the center of her own universe and thinks the world is ending when she experiences negative feelings. It's part of growing up, and it is perfectly illustrated by the comic about the neighbours next door in the story. But growing up also means looking beyond our own limited world. While her encounters with Cheol seem like it was their destiny, many of them were created because of their families (Cheol's family moving there was probably because of their friendship, Cheol got his room because his sister wanted to tease him,etc.) Growing up means that you have to understand that not everything will go your way and not everything stays the same. Growing up means dealing with people whom you cannot understand and might not like you. And most importantly, you learn that life is not a fairy tale and conflicts do not get resolved without communication and feelings won't be understood unless you express them. Which is one of Miae's biggest weaknesses and the source of her immaturity.

Enter Seo Jisu

This is not a shipping post and I love all the characters, so please spare me before I get cancelled. Seo Jisu enters at the perfect time in the story, when Miae starts to lose her sense of boundaries as her feelings for Cheol keep growing. Although Jisu was in the story since the first chapter, Miae's limited universe did not acknowldege him even though they were classmates. She did not know his name, his reputation at school, doesn't remember him from her childhood and doesn't seem to care about him at all. But why did he enter at the perfect moment?

Like I've said, Cheol's catalyst was Miae, but Miae's world was still too small, revolving around Cheol too much. She was still insesitive in many ways and immature. Enter Jisu, Miae's catalyst for personal growth. Jisu is a challenge for Miae just like Miae was for Cheol, no surprise they mirror each other (Miae saying the same thing to Jisu as what Cheol said to Miae is the perfect example.) Miae cannot understand him, she thinks he's weird and wants him to stop following her (sounds familiar?) and makes assumptions about him without trying to talk or get to know him. And while Cheol put in effort to better his relationship with Miae, she does not do the same for Jisu. Jisu is a glitch in the system, one that was not expected and shakes her peaceful days (just like how Miae was the same for Cheol) However, Jisu's presence becomes an important learning opportunity for Miae. There's a reason why I think it was necessary to add him as a potential love interest even if there were already great candidates. And it's because Jisu is mature in ways Miae isn't. The perfect example is when he told her to stop interrupting the confession. And she thought about his words after the incident, and felt ashamed when she was talking to the girl who wanted to confess. And what would happen, let's say, if she realized Jisu was different because of his own circumstances, and not because he wanted to bully her? She knew Cheol wasn't a gangster because she knew him personally. For Miae's world to expand, she needs to make her own efforts and understand others.

The universe seems to like Miae, and interacts with her multiple times in her dreams. Miae is a precious child of the world who is loved, but needs guidance. Right now, as we approach the end of the year the story takes place in, Miae needs to mature and be ready for a new phase of her life. Whether the transition period will end with something (like her and Cheol parting ways) or start with something new (Miae and Cheol getting together at the end of 1999 and running around in circles through the majority of the year) - it doesn't matter. What matters is how she will develop as a person and what she will learn. It's beyond a simple love triangle, it's about people who inspire and help each other and learn from their mistakes. They are kids, they keep changing. The best way is to read ASLFUA as a growth story, not as a romance series, because at the end of the day what matters are the connections these kids create with each other and the memories they make.

#aslfua #after school lessons for unripe apples #hwang miae #seo jisu #mi ae hwang #kim cheol #cheol kim

[genuine-wrestleboy]

is there...a touchstarved fic coming?

IT'S COMING I PROMISE it's a little mechanophilic rn is that a turn off for anyone? idk please have a snippet i love you for waiting

“They hired me to fix you,” you add, like that might sway its decision. “We met once. I don't know if you remember.”

The animatronic stares without speaking, and you get the impression of narrowed eyes, a thoughtful frown. A flock of late-migrating birds goes by outside, calling mournfully into the brisk morning air. The animatronic perks up at the sound, then shakes itself violently and jabs a finger at the back of its head.

“Get it out.” Its voice is stone on stone, grinding and guttering, and silly though the sentiment may be, you can't help but think that it sounds painful.

“Okay,” you say amiably. At this point you wouldn't be surprised if the animatronic had some way to troubleshoot its own systems, but it seems best practice to see what's going on for yourself before you start pulling things loose.

While you get your tools, the animatronic lowers itself stiffly to its knees. You feel its eyes follow you, heavy as a human gaze, and something about it puts flushed heat up the back of your collar. There's that inchoate sense of appraisal again, like it knows something you don't and is waiting, amused, to see whether or not you figure it out.

“Alright, I'm going to touch you now.” You feel a little silly for the warning, but you figure it doesn't hurt to be polite.

Its response comes slowly, as though it has to think about it. “Very well.”

Even still, when you start exploring, it freezes, so quickly that you worry that something in the long-neglected mechanics must've finally shorted out.

“Shit, everything alright?”

“Just do it,” says the animatronic tightly, and then lets out a staticky, startled sound when you touch it again that makes you very glad it can't see your expression. It's not a moan, because you wouldn't know what to physically do with yourself if you had to deal with the implications of that, but the sounds share a border so close that they could rub off on one another, like wet paint.

It feels like every nerve in your body has migrated to your hands as you search for a seam in the matted fur. Fine, ashy grit collects in the whorls of your fingerprints, staining them a waxy grey.

“We should really get you cleaned up after this,” you say, just to say it.

The comment is met by the pinched, metallic sound of old fans scraping into agonized motion. A new rush of urgency tenses your muscles. Care and deliberation are all well and good, but you don't exactly trust the efficacy of the cooling system after all this time, and none of it will do you any good if everything's too hot to touch by the time you find your way in. Adrenaline urges you along, and you feel a surge of triumph when your searching fingers close on the hidden pull of a zipper. Age and grime stick the teeth fast together; you worry at it while trying desperately not to break it. When the fur finally peels apart, it does so with the stiff, reluctant cling of an unripe orange.

Underneath, the metal is greasy black and tacky to the touch. Thick dark liquid coagulates in a shallow divot the size of your smallest fingernail, sucks at the pad of your thumb when you move to swipe it aside. 

“Let me know if this—” you begin, then falter. If this hurts, you were going to say. Over the animatronic's shoulder, you can see its fingers claw against its thighs. You clear your throat awkwardly, suddenly too aware of your own fingers, the metal heating steadily beneath them. “—if anything feels wrong,” you finish lamely.

The animatronic grunts noncommittally. As carefully as if it were made of porcelain, you press the tip of your screwdriver experimentally under the divot's hidden lip. Slow, careful pressure—a small hatch pries stickily upwards, and excitement flares in your chest. It's tempered only a little by the smell that follows, a burst of wet, cloying rot that thrusts through your sinuses and lays itself in your mouth like a sluggy second tongue. You don't gag, but it's a near thing. 

“There we go,” you say, a little nasal, “that's not so bad, right? Oh, look at you, you're gorgeous.”

Visible now under the hatch is a snakes’ nest of wires, blue and red and black, their insulating skins shedding to reveal gleams of greening copper so expertly soldered that you can still make out every path between the joints. The patterns are alien to you, though, unlike any of the machines you've worked on before, as though whoever was responsible for this one was making it up as they went along. It's fascinating in its novelty and exhilarating in its sheer blunt competence. 

How had the creator managed it, to make an animatronic that was still capable of such complex operation after, if what your now former boss was to be believed, thirty years of inactivity? There must be redundancies built into the design to preserve functionality in case of damage, but the fact that they're still effective is astonishing. It makes you want to do something embarrassing, like lean forward and kiss it. If it weren't for the awareness of your impatiently shifting audience, you probably would.

Instead, you focus on the captivating puzzle in front of you, sorting gingerly through the wires with reverent, gloved fingers. They part readily under your touch, slick with more of that dark, acrid liquid, though by now you’re starting to get used to the smell. A rigid tension seizes the animatronic's shoulders, as though it were stopping itself from moving away. The fans in its chest whir and screech.

“Hanging in there?” you ask.

“Don't coddle me,” it bites out, and you laugh before you can stop yourself.

“Who's coddling? I just wanna make sure I'm not touching anything I shouldn't.”

As you speak, you slide a fingernail between two wires, teasing them apart with a soft shlick. Sitting beneath them, top left like a postage stamp, is a battered chip of purple plastic. Corrosion bleeds from its edges in crystalline gobs and fans out in feathery white veins, caustic mechanical mold. Where it meets metal, rubbery ribbons of sealant curl away to bare the fragile circuitry below. You let out a short, appraising breath between your teeth. 

It looks—to use a technical term—bad, but you know better than to mess with anything when you still don't know what it does. You hover a fingertip over the chip, testing for heat. You expect it—a functional heat, at least, enough to confirm that it's still doing what it's meant to, whatever that is. What you don't expect is the chill. It's like the chip is carved from ice, radiating a cold well below the air around it. The unexpected sensation gets a gasp out of you, prickling up your arms in gooseflesh that feels like nails raked lightly along your skin. 

Heat rises into your face, and sinks into your belly. Humiliation nips at its heels.

“There's a chip here,” you blurt, your own silence taking on uncomfortable weight. “D'you know what it's for?”

It's a long shot, but your aim proves true.

“Yes,” says the animatronic, sounding pleased.

#fnaf springtrap #springtrap fnaf #springtrap x reader #springtrap #ask #my fic #anon

[lou-struck]

Strawberry Candies

Hajime Iwaizumi x reader

Prompt🍬+ garden

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: Cursing, violence directed towards a slug.

~This is one of the requested prompts for My Emoticon Expression’s Event; check out the Masterlist on my welcome page.

Ever since you and your boyfriend Hajime Iwaizumi moved into your new home together, you have been waiting for the chance to take advantage of the cute garden outback.

Finally, after months of cold weather and busy schedules, the temperature is more than warm enough to sustain whatever crops the two of you wish to grow together.

He started the process of clearing out the beds weeks ago. Now all you really have to do is lay seeds and plant a few starters you bought at a local greenhouse, so hopefully, you will have an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables ready for you to eat all summer long.

Hajime busies himself planting some leafy greens for his morning smoothies, and you are weeding around the strawberry bushes that were in the yard before you moved in. The bushes are healthy and full of promising-looking blossoms. 

Something bright catches your eye. Just through the leaves, you see the beginnings of a large green strawberry; it is just beginning to start turning pink. Curiously you reach out and touch it, it seems much too early in the season to have a berry like this, but here it is in the fruity flesh.

"Babe, come look," you call over to your boyfriend. Pointing to the unripe berry. "The first strawberry is almost ready."

He gets up, a bit of dirt on his knees from being crouched in the dirt but neither of you mind. "Oh, That's gonna be a big one." he smiles softly, smearing a bit of dirt on your cheek.

"We should share it when it's ready." you grin, trying to step away from him and his dirty hands. 

He looks at the berry closely, looking between it and your eager expression. "Not a chance; that's all you."

"Why not?" you huff. "You said it yourself that the berry is gonna be big."

"Not big enough to share between two people, you dummy," he laughs, resting his hand on your shoulder, "You saw it, so when the time comes, you eat it."

~

Two weeks later, you are back, tending carefully to your garden; every day, you have checked that first strawberry like clockwork. Just waiting for the day; it is fully ripened.

You can only imagine how sweet it will taste once it's done. Things always seem to taste better when they come from the garden. There's a sense of pride that comes with the taste. 

Finally, after weeks of waiting, you have determined that the berry is ready for picking.

The front side of the strawberry is a brilliant shade of red; it calls to you as if begging you to take it. Carefully, can you pick it up and pull it off its vine with a little twist. Only to feel something slimy stuck to the back of it. And shock, you drop the fruit. It hits the ground with a Little splat, and you see what the thing was you actually touched.

A gardener's worst nightmare, a slug…

This little spotted fellow had Glade claim on your strawberry, chewing a large hole right through the middle of it. Its slimy shiny trail completely covers what is left of the berry. Leaving only a hollow husk.

"Nooo," you cry, watching as the little guy begins to move across its surface. 

From the corner of your eye, you see your boyfriend swing open the sliding glass door. "What are you yelling about now?" He asks, referring to your last minor inconvenience from this morning in which you had run out of your favorite cereal.

"A slug ate the berry," you say sullenly, glaring down at the little bugger. You hope he enjoyed it. Hajime's face takes on a murderous expression as he grits his teeth, "Where is it?"

"The berry?" you ask,

"No, the slug," he says, approaching the berry husk ominously. "We gotta get it out of here before it eats my spinach."

"Do you only care about your spinach?" Utes, crossing your arms. 

"Your berry may be gone forever, but we can still save the spinach." He replies, reaching down and picking up the berry by the stem. He glares coldly at the slug attached to it before he winds up and throws the whole thing up into the air, making sure to put his whole strength behind it.

You aren't sure where it ended up, but you know that slug will never make it back to your garden.

Hajime heads back inside to grab his gardening gloves, wanting to check to make sure there aren't any more slugs. With a sigh, you clean your hands with a bit of hose water. You were really looking forward to eating that strawberry.

"Hey, I know it's not the same, but I thought you might want this," he says from behind you. In his hand rests one of those strawberry-flavored hard candies, You know, the kind that old people typically have on hand.

"Where did you get this?" You ask with intrigue, taking the sweet from him. Eagerly, you unwrap the strawberry skin printed paper, feeling nostalgic as you listen to the crinkling.

"I helped an old lady across the street the other day, and she actually gave me one." he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. As you pop the candy into your mouth.

The sweet flavor melts onto your tongue, giving you that sweetness you have been craving.

"Feeling better?" he asks. 

"A little bit," you say. "You're so sweet to me, Hajime, and to old ladies as well."

"Shut up; I just didn't want to hear you whining about it anymore," he barks, not meaning the words that come out of his mouth; he may say that kind of stuff to Oikawa, but he's too sweet on you, and he knows it.

"Whatever you say, ya big softie." Easy laughter falls from your lips as you imagine some little old lady pushing a handful of candies into his much larger hands. You wish you could've seen it.

Fueled by the sugar, you decide to pull a few weeds by your strawberry plant. Pushing past the leaves, you notice something you hadn't seen before.

It's another berry, even bigger and brighter than the one before. 

It's the best time to pick it. Gently you pull on the fruit; it snaps right off the stem and into your hand. You look at it with a tender smile, still tasting the candy from earlier on your tongue. Do you know what's the right thing to do?

Hiding it carefully in your palm, you make your way over to your boyfriend, who is at work weeding his spinach patch. "Hey Haji, open up." you humm, plopping the berry into his mouth, much to his shock.

"You found another one?" he mumbles, his speech a bit jumbled from the large berry in his mouth. 

You nod. "I did, and I wanted you to have it."

He takes his time savoring every morsel of the fruit, not letting even a drop of its juice go to waste, and swallowing with an almost nostalgic look on his face. "That was delicious, but why did you give me this one?"

"Because you're you." you smile, giving him a quick peck on his lips. Their taste far sweeter than any kind of strawberry you could've eaten.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hajime x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #Hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

[is-the-primate-vid-cute]

do you have any colobus monkey fun facts? whenever i see them at the zoo they are very playful and rambunctious, they seem like they would get into shenanigans

These lovable monkeys are truly excellent from their expressive faces to their long and elegant fur coats. Here are some neat things about them:

1. Like proboscis monkeys, colobus monkeys have four chambered stomachs making them champions of digestion. Their stomachs process food, including leaves and unripe fruit that other species ignore, to extract the maximum nutrition.

2. Speaking of food, these guys are known for eating dirt and minerals such as charcoal, and they have even been seen eating concrete! Geophagy is a strategy employed to aid in digestion and pick up nutritious minerals.

3. They live in polygynous family groups of up to 15 members, and are content to share living space with other species of monkeys. It's thought that their welcoming attitude towards other species of monkeys is a strength in numbers approach.

4. Their tails are longer than the rest of their bodies and are not prehensile, but are more like cats tails in function, helping them balance. This is important because they are almost always high up in the trees, only descending to the ground when tree routes are unavailable.

5. And of course, no thumbs! This is another adaptation for life high in the trees, as branch swinging is easier with a hand that can form a uniform hook shape without a thumb in the way. As such, they have a little nub with a nail instead of a full digit.

#inquiring minds want to know #mod j #colobus monkeys #image descriptions in alt text

[ao3feed-ue]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 미숙한 표현 | Unripe Expression Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ha Junseo/Original Male Character Characters: Lee Jaewon (Unripe Expression) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Unrequited Crush, Developing Relationship Summary:

“I think I like someone,” Junseo interrupts.

“Oh,” Jaewon says. Then, in recognition, he says loudly, “Oh?”

#ao3feed #fanfic #Unripe Expression #미숙한 표현

[shimyereh]

A colorful (ha!) expression I recently learned:

Nie mam zielonego pojęcia! = “I haven’t the foggiest!” “I haven’t a clue!” (lit. “I don’t have a green idea!”)

But why *green*, in particular? According to this explanation (Poradnia językowa PWN), it’s a metaphorical extension of “green” to mean “immature, not fully formed” (as in the sense of plants — young leaves, unripe fruit). So: “I don’t even have a partially-formed idea!”

This is related to the use of “green” to refer to young, inexperienced people — which exists as a pattern of metaphor in both Polish and English.

#words words words

[x0401x]

Olá! What did you think of Tsurune episode 4?

Heya!

I have a few conflicting feelings about this episode but it was enjoyable overall. We’re still on the 100% original content spectrum and my guess is that it’s gonna be like that for the rest of the season. It’s weird to navigate through the anime and seeing the characters being so obviously not themselves and the story not having as much emotion, intensity or meaning as the original, but it’s easier to deal with this whenever KyoAni shows clear signs that they understand what they’ve done wrong in S1 and are trying to fix it within their possibilities.

For example, I’ve already pointed this out before, but I love the amount of facial expressions and personality traits we’re getting from Minato this time around. On each episode he shows more of himself and we get to see characteristics other than his most basic defining qualities, which is that he’s a serene and serious kid. He can be that and also be a clumsy, unripe airhead. Those are concepts that can and should coexist.

I also love that the girls keep receiving more screen-time and are being treated as part of the club with interests and progress of their own in kyudo, instead of just being in the background. Honorable mention to Seiya being allowed to act like the competent club president that he is, too. I really like the hints that, although he’s concerned about Minato on main, he’s looking out for everybody.

But speaking of looking out, I still find the way that KyoAni treats Masaki to be quite unpalatable. I’m glad that what I’d anticipated from the previous episode (that at some point Minato was gonna realize what Masaki was on about and everything would work out in the end) did happen, but it’s how it happened that bothers me. The episode basically starts out with Masaki overwhelming Minato with a shitload of information on what he has to fix like some nagging nanny. Meanwhile, Seiya has the brilliant idea to record everyone’s shots on video so that they can watch and compare in order to pinpoint exactly what was wrong during the match. Once again, as per usual, Masaki is relegated to a position of side character while Seiya saves the day. So far, this is the only thing I don’t see changing from S1. KyoAni keeps trying to make this story be about the Kazemai boys’ team first and foremost, and everyone else is secondary.

Don’t get me wrong; Seiya is my second favorite character in the books and I totally dig seeing him get a lot of attention, even with the anime version of him being a complete disaster to me. What I don’t like is that KyoAni is still trying real hard to push Seiya onto the same level as Masaki and Shuu, and in doing this, they end up reducing Masaki and Shuu to mere fractions of what they are in canon. Anime!Seiya is basically filling up for the lack of them – especially the lack of Masaki, and in that process, a good chunk of his role is being given to Seiya.

At this point in the novel, we were supposed to have Shuu coming to Kazemai to train because of the bet he’d made with Tomio, in which Kazemai and Kirisaki were essentially fighting for Masaki without anyone knowing except for the three of them. All because Shuu was jealous as fuck of the way Minato only has eyes for Masaki, thus pulling off the most “what is it he has that I don’t” move ever. Fast forward to Shuu and everyone else getting to touch Masaki but Minato can’t. Cue Minato being outraged by this bullshit, and that’s where it’s implied kyudo is in second plan to him. The main reason why he’s so mad about being banned from the dojo is that everyone gets to have new teachings from Masaki but he doesn’t. And then we have all that ridiculous pinning, Minato buying cinnamon buns for Masaki even though he can’t give them to him, Minato calling Masaki an idiot, Masaki pinching Minato’s cheeks, the car scene, Minato just straight-up admitting that he wants Masaki only for himself and having to hold himself back from crossing the line, them training in the dojo at night and eating oyaki together.

Just… nah. Can’t have that shit in the anime. Too damn gay for TV.

So what we get instead is Masaki being thrown to the side most of the time and interacting with Minato as little as possible, and the one who fills up that hole is Seiya. Similarly, with Seiya busy babysitting Minato, Nanao is making up for the lack of Seiya in Kaito’s life. Seiya’s main relationships in the novel are with Minato and Kaito, and Kaito’s conflicts and character development are directly tied to Seiya. Without Seiya there, it’s Nanao who has to replace him. Instead of Kaito’s dilemma about wanting Seiya to share his burdens and rely more on him, we have Nanao being mad at Kaito for wanting to take on everyone’s burdens on his own just because he’s the oomae. This one was quite amusing to me not just because I was already expecting it ever since the PV, but also because it’s a crystal-clear example of KyoAni’s approach in adapting Tsurune. It’s all a game of “Oh, so this character has strong feelings towards this other specific character that are inexplicable from a strictly platonic viewpoint? Well, just make it be about the whole team instead”.

On the topic of “make it about the whole team”, it’s dawned on me why KyoAni changed the reason for Minato’s fuck-up in the last tournament. In the novel, this was more of a spiritual thing. Kyudo is a zen practice, and as such, one has to do it with a clear mind and pure heart. In this scene, Minato’s heart and mind were anything but clear and pure. After Eisuke talks shit about Shuu right before the match, Minato is understandably pissed off, which is what disturbs his shots, even more than his injury. He didn’t want someone like Eisuke to win. But perhaps this isn’t something that viewers who have no experience in kyudo would be able to perceive. For most people, an archery tournament is a tournament like any other and wanting to win is probably just what you’d expect from the archers. Without the novel’s text explaining why this isn’t the case, the message most likely wouldn’t get through to a good portion of the people watching. I assume that’s why KyoAni chose to go for a more common sense route here. They made Minato focus too much on himself and not think about the proverbial team play and harmony that Japanese people are so familiar with. The result? His mistake affects everyone else. That way, it’s easy for an average Japanese to tell how and why Minato messed up back there.

I also dare say that going for this route is more in line with how KyoAni is trying to portray Eisuke and Tsujimine. In the novel, they were depicted as a team that, sure, has a lot of disadvantages in comparison to everyone else, but no one should underestimate them for it. They’re strong and they’re there to prove it. In the anime, though, they’re being treated like underdogs. It’s no secret to anyone that KyoAni banks off teams and character merch. More relatability is always their thing. Every character and every team has to make it into the viewers’ hearts somehow. So this Tsujimine is full of nice little guys who just wanna take the big prize for a Greater Cause TM (as in, better conditions for their club), and Eisuke is a hardworking boy who takes on a lot more responsability than he should because he doesn’t want to owe anything to anyone.

Nothing wrong with that per se, except that it strikes me as kinda contradictory. Novel!Eisuke is bitter. He’s bitter about his situation, he’s bitter that his former kouhai have more natural talent than he does and he’s bitter that they’re blessed with a better environment than him. He’s skilled and he loves archery, but he’s not in the right state of mind or spirit, and that’s why he loses. He’s still relatable, but his unsuccessfulness is to be expected, and most importantly, to be welcomed. As for anime!Eisuke, although his jealousy towards Minato and Shuu is clearly there, it’s very toned down and only noticeable in punctual moments, and it’s not presented as his main trait. It doesn’t seem like enough of a justification for his failures, unless KyoAni has something else up their sleeve. Another contradiction is that anime!Eisuke doesn’t want to be in debt with anybody, yet he keeps asking his uncle to give advice on his team all the time and he wanted Saionji to be his master in the past.

There’s also Koushirou. He still makes digs at Eisuke every now and then just like his canon self, but they’re not constantly at each other’s throats and they kinda seem like partners here? It’s actually funny to watch.

Anyway, these are my thoughts on episode 4. I keep getting these “we could’ve had it all” vibes. It’s not something that can be helped. Just gotta live with it, lol.

#tsurune #tsurune tsunagari no issha #tsurune kazemai koukou kyuudoubu #narumiya minato #takigawa masaki #takehaya seiya #fujiwara shuu #nikaidou eisuke #kisaragi nanao #fuwa koushirou #kyoani #kyoto animation

[baka-bun]

I adore After School lessons for unriped apples so much! The story writing and pacing is interesting and not too fast or slow.

The art style is too cute and I love the uniqueness of the characters. Like no same face syndrome with the main/side characters and the expressions are hilarious 😆

I'm constantly taking screen shots of my fave ones. Often it's Miae because she looks too cute 🙏✨️🍏

I also love that Miae has short hair! As someone who grew up having short hair a lot, I've always wanted to see more short hair female leads. Especially ones that keep it short, in other works they tend to grow it out (I know her hair has to due with school rules but I still love it!).

It's brings me joy on Sunday and I look forward to updates! I even fass passed a bunch because I have no self control 🤡

Anyway don't be surprised if you see me reblogging a bunch of ASLFUA stuff here.

#after school lessons for unripe apples #aslfura #sharing my love for the series #hwang miae #webtoon