wut???
That was a rollercoaster and a half. After a rapid escalation, it just plummets.

This is an interesting exercise in literary devices.
Mint chocolate -> sweet intimacy dampened by bitter reality (i.e. convetional social stigmas, social differences, inappropriate power dynamics)
Offering a taste -> the sweet imagination of an intimate connection
Pulling away sharply -> bitter reality crashing down
Kouhai knows offering her ice cream bar would be rejected -> not bitter enough for the chief
Kouhai likens the mint to toothpaste -> reluctant healthy appreciation for the circumstances of their reality
Kouhai is bad with mint chocolate but doesn't hate it -> though the indulgence wroughts discomfort, reveling in the imagined joys of unlikely experiences offers an ameliorating justification.

^the sdm is just a front for Sakuya's yuri harem.

Hatsune weiss

Go for it Maho. Pocket your gold.

^^^interesting. I didn't consider a competition angle.
Rather than using the data as a means of arguing one ship over another, I think such an analysis would be cool just as a way of summarizing previous work in the fandom and potentially informing general trends over time, depending upon the scope.
Personally, I'm not one to get super hyped about particular ships. Good lesbian stories are hard to find. Why invest life energy in ship wars when you could be searching for your next heartwarming and/or educational depiction of a culture so starved of decent representation?
It's good you pointed that out, though. Knowledge is power and power in the wrong hands yields pain rather than progress.

bwa ha ha! necessity is the mother of cozy back hugs.
I'm sure the rising blood in her cheeks makes the situation extra warm.

^I've been tempted to scrape the site for data to drive an analytics analysis regarding the relative popularity of ships, doujins, authors, and tags. The top-k lists and plots would be interesting. It wouldn't be very conclusive, though, since it's just one site. I know somebody did a similar analysis of the Harry Potter fandom, but used a few fanfiction sites for reference irrc.

Also, great art! Love the color palette!

last edited at Jan 23, 2019 9:17PM

I find the 4x4 blocks of semi-ovals very open to interpretation.

...The three goddesses of yandere plot revenge upon our heros!
Tune in next week for more action-packed yuri adventure in
'It's Not My fault that I'm Sparkly'!!!

I think I'm missing part of the joke. She's using the compass feature of some map app in the middle panels, right?
Does the character consider the act of consulting the compass cute or am I missing somethin in the untranslated symbols?

haha the upper right XD

happy ice cream to all, and to all a good day

Blanket burrito with the best fillings and chips on the side. Awesome

Before reading the ending, the pessimistic side of me envisioned the title of a sequel as "married for 3 seconds".

^same. So nostalgic.

Everybody getting revenge on Tomoko.

Moderate amounts of sweat

@BugDevil
Haha well, I wouldn't call it a story since it's only got a beginning and a middle and no end. Four of the nine paragraphs are exclusively devoted to the image.
The other five are a reflection of my philosophy that age gap requires more premise than the average love story, if your goal is avoiding a cringe worthy result. I dislike writing cringe worthy stuff.
It did run longer than I originally anticipated though.
@Gothic_Catalyst Thanks! =D

last edited at Jan 8, 2019 12:49PM

My crack at a context. Warning: I've been indulging in Dickens and Hardy lately.

B-chan joined the staff of the local manor house just after her tenth birthday. As the oldest of a sizable community of siblings, she accorded with the custom of leaving home to work and help support the family. Extraordinary needlework skills passed down through the maternal line, combined with extensive childcare experience, allowed B-chan to rise quickly in the ranks to specialize in the management of the manor-born brood.

A few years subsequent to B-chan's induction, the lady of the house, a more recent addition after the passing of the previous matriarch from complications of hysteria, gave birth to yet another successor: a beautiful raven-haired girl with hazel eyes as remarkable in chameleon dynamicity as in the precocious tint of melancholy inherent in her stare. B-chan's proven competence and nurturing instincts made her the ideal choice as guardian and companion to the newborn A-chan.

Over time, A-chan grew into a lively confusion of limbs and mane whose dexterity and penchant for mischief made a welcome counterpoint to remembrances of a thin and feeble precursor, torn between the horizons of life and death, but constantly swaddled in blankets of clothe, love, and determination and rarely separated from the warmth of B-chan's bosom.

The child's earliest explorations of the world demonstrated an aptitude for art. Overtures reflecting the trend in B-chan's progress reports to the Lord and Lady of the manor inspired investments in appropriate resources and tutoring. In gratitude, the merciless A-chan often cornered a reluctant B-chan to cajole her into being her favorite model.

Years passed and the bond between mistress and companion tightened. B-chan witnessed the blooming of her charge into the fullness of a strong, comely, and healthful young woman approaching her nineteenth birthday and gilded further by prospects of a successful and meaningful future. However, B-chan's reflections, especially upon the impending expectations of A-chan as a woman of status, gradually enlightened her to inexplicable fears. These new feelings were different from the sisterly or motherly bents thematic of her life and consequent of her occupation. The misgivings often manifested in a darkened and distant countenance which she managed to conceal from even her eldest mentors on the staff, though less successfully from the perceptions of A-chan.

Anxiety exerted an overwhelming preoccupation as B-chan stood at the window and contemplated the cloudy skies above the pastoral vistas of the sun room. Her charge had talked her into another sitting; this time for the composition of a painting using the small trove of oils newly arrived from the Lord and Lady's latest escapades tracing the southern border of the Continent. The musings presented an adequately thorough distraction to prevent B-chan's notice of the sudden descent of silence upon the room. A-chan had stopped partway through the process of setting up to turn her piercing eyes, currently adopting an uncanny mixture of green and grey and reflective of the scenery beyond, to the tall and elegant back of her savior, handmaiden, surrogate mother, and confidante, the closest consciousness she knew would ever touch her life.

Accordingly, B-chan was duly surprised when she turned around to find A-chan diving into her arms with a practiced familiarity imbued by an unusual sense of desperation. The impact exerted a force sufficient to push B-chan bodily into a chair behind as her arms shot out instinctively to cradle the slight form and provide protection against the potential harm of the fall. A-chan then launched into a teary disquisition made less and less intelligible by the growing strength of the sobs curtailing her voice and the muting effects of pressing her flushed face deeper and deeper into B-chan's collar.

A-chan revealed a letter arrived with the oil paints heralding news of the master's determination to apprentice her under the tutelage of a renowned artist currently commissioned by relatives in France for the purpose of cultivating the talents of her cousins. Such an arrangement would require departing in the coming months for unknown lands, people, and experiences, possibly without the anchor of B-chan's presence. A-chan then divulged an impassioned soliloquy describing feelings and desires different and far removed from the sisterly or daughterly or masterly sentiments demanded by her and B-chan's history and social stations. B-chan listened and used every available gesture, embrace, and cooing oration to calm the storm of raw emotion manifesting into one of the most potent traumas of A-chan's life.

While the grey skies slowly parted to reveal a watery orange sunset, A-chan's heaving gasps relaxed into a regular pattern and her globulous tears slackened into a thinner flow. B-chan delicately kissed away the remaining droplets as they fell. The women slipped into a gentle silence, watching the dynamic display of natural beauty beyond the trees and listening attentively to the harmony formed by their soft breathing as both awaited B-chan's response to A-chan's confession of an equally powerful, equally reciprocated, and equally forbidden love.

^My guess is Claudine made fun of Maya's sweater vest.

So pure. Mistletoe probably unnecessary.

Bdsm?

Diana does not approve.

Omigosh this is a masterpiece

last edited at Dec 24, 2018 10:28PM