Category Archives: Observation Deck

The Observation Deck: Goodbye, Eri

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


At times, it can feel as though there is no logic to the world in which we inhabit. There is innate cruelty that taxes our very existence. Sometimes that tax is physically far enough that we can go on mostly unaffected, other times, it happens right in front of our face, maybe even behind the lens of a camera…

I won’t bother giving much of a plot description here since the story in question is only one volume. Honestly, the short and sweet of it is that it has my thorough recommendation, but the long version is going to be entering big spoiler territory, so I will give a warning now. Basically, the story consists of a middle school-aged boy named Yuta who confronts personal tragedy by making films.


Goodbye, Eri is much about narrative as it is about tragedy. In most cases, the audience experiences the world not directly from Yuta’s perspective but filtered through the camera on his phone. Even the first panel in which he is scene comes from the camera recording him during his birthday party. Additionally, Yuta is encouraged both by his mother and later by Eri, to record them, and thus the world of Goodbye, Eri is always one degree removed.

This becomes a factor pretty much immediately, as having all of this footage of his later deceased mother becomes the motivation for his filmmaking. The reason narrative becomes so important is that later on, it is revealed just how horrible Yuta’s mother actually is, constantly degrading him for not capturing her perfectly. Despite this abuse, Yuta decides to make the film anyway, with a twist: Yuta is unable to record his mother’s death despite asking her to, and so the final moments of his film involve him running away, the hospital exploding behind him. This eventually leads to his classmates making fun of him and his principal reprimanding him for the directorial choice.

Eri, though shown to be significantly nicer than Yuta’s mother, ultimately makes the same request, and thus Yuta experiences her most directly through his camera. What’s more, the fact that Eri meets a similar fate to his mother makes the continued filming of Eri emotionally difficult.

What makes Goodbye, Eri so compelling is the way Fujimoto Juxtaposes the need to remember somebody fondly with the power to control their narrative. It would have been just as easy for Yuta to make a film that was honest about his mother’s behavior, and yet the entirety of the opening act is filled with nothing but positive, save for Yuta’s indecisiveness at the end.


Fantasy vs Reality

The ability to control the narrative as a thematic concept is explored even during moments when the camera turns off. We find out in the final moments of the manga that, much like in Yuta’s hastily thrown together screenplay, Eri is actually a vampire. Despite witnessing her death firsthand, Eri returns without her memory. Except, she writes a letter to herself as a reminder of her identity. The resident filmmaker experiences this during another time of immense personal tragedy, after waking up in the hospital to find out his entire family is dead.

Again the question of perspective throughout the manga invites the questioning of this dynamic in such a brilliant way. Before this moment near the end, Yuta had primarily experienced Eri through a camera lens, and even during the moments when she is off-camera, the two of them are alone. Now, is it necessary to read Eri as completely imaginary on the part of Yuta as a way of coping with his mother’s death? No, but it is a conversation certainly worth having.

After all, the abandoned building where the two spent hours watching films just explodes in the final panel after Yuta decides suicide is not worth it. Even in the most bitter and hopeless moments of his life, he is still in control, whether or not he wants to be.


I have already talked about how perspective plays a huge role in determining Goodbye, Eri‘s thematic and narrative elements. However, Fujimoto also uses his art to help support this as well.

For starters, his character designs lend nicely to the grittier realities he tends to portray. A manga with this framework would not work nearly as well with lighter, fluffier character designs that tend to support a more relaxed atmosphere, as this story is anything but relaxed. This is not to pass judgment on said art styles, but I somehow doubt this one-shot would have had nearly the same emotional resonance in another artist’s hands.

On top of that, there are many frames that are drawn more roughly, with less line work in order to simulate the effect of blurriness in a camera. While probably not a complicated endeavor from an art standpoint, it does add a lot to the narrative and thematic elements, as it reminds the audience that Yuta is constantly behind a camera rather than viewing things for himself.



While a story of this nature likely could have worked in a multi-volume setting, the decision to make this a one-shot was a brilliant one, as the brevity of a single volume lends it a power that not many stories in its lane are able to match. If for some reason there are people at the end of this post who have yet to read Goodbye, Eri, 1. I did warn you for spoilers, and 2. read it anyway. Easily one of the best stories to come out this year, and I would not be surprised to see it win a ton of awards.


Have some thoughts on Fujimoto’s latest work? Let me know down in the comments.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

As always, shoutouts to Jenn for supporting us on Patreon.

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: Kotaro Lives Alone

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


Normally, I would start this review with a joke or some stupid bit of imaginary dialogue as a way of easing people into the content. But to be completely honest with everyone reading, I do not have one this time.

Because, well, fuck this show is so sad…

Kotaro Lives Alone was released on Netflix early last month, and given that I have not been keeping as up to date on their releases, came as a bit of a surprise. What I initially guessed to be little more than a run-of-the-mill slice of life series ended up being something that at points was hard to watch, but not necessarily in a bad way.

The series focuses on Kotaro Sato, a kindergartener who has moved into the same apartment complex as an aspiring mangaka Shin Karino. Kotaro eventually makes friends with most of the people in the building, but it leaves everyone wondering: why is this kid in an apartment by himself? The others in the building soon come to find out about Kotaro’s dark past and his relationship with his parents.

Kotaro and Trauma

For anyone who has yet to see this series and becomes interested in watching it, let me use this space to offer a bit of a warning. For as cute an aesthetic the show has, Kotaro Lives Alone goes to some surprisingly harsh places. Thus, I suggest those who are triggered by similar experiences hold off or proceed with caution. Given that I will be discussing these same elements throughout the rest of this review, the warning applies here as well.

With that being said, It would be hard to have an honest conversation about the show’s subject matter without mentioning the themes of abuse and trauma. Kotaro Lives Alone is not a question, but a statement. A reality imposed by the unacceptable behavior of his parents. Thus, he is forced to fend for himself, and it is only after he becomes friends with his various neighbors like Karino, Mizuki, and Tamaru that he begins to truly lower his guard. It is an honest view of how these systems can inevitably warp our minds to focus solely on survival, represented by Kotaro’s persistent desire to “become stronger”

Ok, but Why a Kindergartener?

At first, I did think it weird to have the main character be at an age where most kids are barely able to speak, let alone pay taxes and rent. After all, the idea that a four-year-old would be allowed live alone and sign contracts sounds pretty ridiculous. Regardless, the nature of animation is exaggeration, and one of the biggest known effects of trauma is forcing kids to mature at a pace they would otherwise not.

It is within this framework that we can begin to understand Kotaro’s character. The extent of his abuse has created a child who is not only self-reliant but one who actively refuses the help of others as a means of saving face. All of this makes Kotaro a much quieter kid, who makes friends in a way that feels awkward to someone who watching from the outside.

What’s more, Kotaro’s personality is much different from that of his peers. It is noted often and by multiple characters that Tono-Sama, his favorite show, is not particularly popular among kids his age. The show’s focus appears to be on strength and personal responsibility, how to be a good kid, and things that have also been forced on Kotaro by his situation.

It Takes a Village

In the absence of said abusive parents, Karino thinks it important to help Kotaro in his day-to-day endeavors. Thus, he, along with the others living in the apartment, decides to help look after the young boy. As previously mentioned, it takes a while for Kotaro to get used to the idea of trusting these random adults, but eventually, he becomes used to their company.

The relationships Kotaro builds with Karino and the others are both heartwarming and heartbreaking. For every moment in which the group becomes closer, another element of the kid’s broken past seems to come out, whether it be the fact that he doesn’t like having his picture taken because his father used it to track him down or his affinity for large meals due to the absence of consistent food.

Stability for Kotaro has largely been a privilege, and getting comfortable is hard for him.

Kotaro’s Animation

For as compelling a story as Kotaro Lives Alone is, its animation is one of the departments where I would say it feels lacking. Not bad per se, as the choice of bright colors contrasts well with the drabness of flashbacks to Kotaro’s past. Rather, I cannot really come up with anything particularly praiseworthy about it. Which, in all fairness, is true of most shows I review.

Another thing I slightly dislike is the character designs, specifically concerning Kotaro. Idk if this was another choice specifically motivated by psychology, but his eyes look almost lizard-like. There is a deadness there which just feels incredibly off-putting. Again, it makes sense given the context of the story, the whole premise is incredibly off-putting. I wonder, though, if maybe there was another way to portray that through his character design.


Kotaro Lives Alone is an incredibly special series. It is rare that shows tackle social issues specifically and with this much depth. It was indeed hard to watch at times, but mostly because of the painful reality of its descriptions. Because of the gripes I mentioned with its animation, along with some of the later episodes kind of blending together, I cannot give it a perfect score, but it does deserve your undivided attention at some point.


How did you feel after watching Kotaro Lives Alone? Let me know in the comments.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

As always, shoutout to Jenn for supporting us on Patreon!

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: In the Land of Leadale

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


“Hey guys, did you hear about the new anime that just got announced ‘I Woke Up in Another World as a Rake in Autumn?!'”

For as stupid as the landscape of light novel to anime production has become over the past few years, it is not as if it is all bad. After all, with every dime, a dozen video game fantasy stories comes a genuinely great piece of art. If waiting through five seasons of In Another World With My Smartphone means we also get a Violet Evergarden or a Spice and Wolf, I am more than happy to wait.

Still, despite its fairly common-looking presentation, I had at least some hope for In the Land of Leadale. Its focus on a character who was stuck in the hospital and only had video games as an escape, while not particularly original, did at least set itself up for some more introspective moments. However, while Cayna is certainly wide awake in this new version of Leadale, ready to discover its mysteries, the series itself is, unfortunately, sound asleep.


Video Game Fantasy World, Yay…

At this point, my gold standard for isekai-like fantasy worlds is No Game No Life. Maybe that is a little unfair because their stories are not trying to accomplish the same things, but I am making it anyway. The reason being: regardless of your feelings on its story and characters, No Game No Life‘s aesthetic contributes to building an identity that is fundamentally its own. Disboard is not just a setting, but a core aspect of the series.

This is not me asking every series to reinvent aspects of the genre or anything. However, there are a lot of elements of Leadale’s world that just feel boring. The towns are fantasy towns, the weapons are fantasy weapons. With the exception of the towers belonging to the various missing players, there is not much that separates Leadale in this regard.

Ok, but Good Story?

Leadale‘s story is definitely one of its better qualities, though I would probably stop short of calling it good. Cayna, now imbued with the powers of her avatar, begins exploring the world to figure out what exactly has happened. Along the way, she meets her in-game children she apparently forgot about, along with a crew of mercenaries and various figures from the magical academy in Felskeilo.

Much of Cayna’s adventure in this regard is fine, albeit a little dull. She goes to the guild, gets a quest, completes the quest, rinse and repeat. As she completes these quests, however, she finds more and more towers belonging to the missing players, getting special rings from the guardians of these towers. It is not well-explained what will happen when she manages to collect all of them, but it does at least give the series a through-line which keeps it somewhat engaging.

I think the best compliment I can give Leadale‘s narrative overall is that it feels a lot like watching someone play an MMORPG. Which, in the right context, can actually be a lot of fun. However, the series does little to clarify its overall plot, which means that context for enjoyment is absent.

That, and the fact that the series had one of the most powerful moments I have seen in a while. After adopting a young girl named Luka on one of her last quests and building a house in the countryside, Cayna sits on her back porch watching her and Lytt play in the flowers. At that moment, she reflects on the journey she has had thus far, contrasting it with the life she lived in the hospital and all of the things she has been able to do since coming to Leadale. It is a scene that serves as a reminder of how much potential In the Land of Leadale had that sadly got thrown away.

The Non-Ending

“Read the Manga” Endings, or in this case “Read the Light Novel,” have been fairly common in anime since the genre became popular. This is because anime is often used as a promotion for its source material counterparts. While there is nothing inherently wrong with this from an art perspective, it hurts even more since it feels as though the anime was only just picking up steam.

Before I get preempted in the comments, I will say this. I know it is hard for studios to commit to longer-running series because it often doubles their production costs. Not to mention, longer series often mean more crunch time for already overworked and underpaid animators and staff. Regardless, the show definitely could have benefited from an additional 12 episodes, given how much source material there already is.



I honestly feel a bit bad picking on the series like I have. Lord knows there are plenty of other isekai tail riders that deserve it a lot more, but while I did not expect much from them, to begin with, In the Land of Leadale seemed like it might be different. Sadly, aside from a few good moments, this was not the case. It is a fine series, but I cannot recommend it as something people need to watch.


How did you all feel about In the Land of Leadale? Let me know in the comments.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

As always, thanks especially to our Patron Jenn for being absolutely amazing.

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: My Dress-Up Darling

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


Valentine’s Day may be long past at this point, but there is still plenty of love in the air…or, maybe more like pent-up sexual frustration? or, no love? We’ll go with love.

Nerds come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and creeds. Some of them like to watch anime, play video games, collect figures, read comics, and…make Japanese Hina dolls? Sure, why not. The story of My Dress-Up Darling focuses on two such nerds, albeit of very different social standing. Gojo is a loner who has literally zero friends, and Marin is the high school hottie who everyone loves and adores. However, after the two have a chance meeting after school, Gojo finds out that Marin wants nothing more than to cosplay her favorite characters. Attracted to her endearing personality (and general good looks), Gojo agrees to help, and so the two begin their cosplay journey.

Is It Horny In Here, or Is It Just Me?

It is not much of a secret that a lot of high school romances in anime tend to be on the…ecchi side of things. Whether one considers that a good or bad thing, that is the reality. This is not to say that is the case for all of them, but a decent portion.

“Yeah, yeah, get to the point!”

…the point is that, I do not mind that much when a character expresses their sexuality openly. In fact, in a lot of contexts, it is more than justified. However, when it comes to a romance show My Dress-Up Darling, some of that should, at the very least, feel earned. Character development should come from more than just how many weird angles a series can shove into one episode, and plot should mean, ya know, plot.

My expectations of this show were pretty low, to begin with, just based on what I had heard about the manga, and for the first two episodes, I was a bit torn. How the series managed to spend an entire episode on measuring Marin’s proportions I will only ever view through the lens of extreme horniness.

Still, what lies past those first two episodes is actually a genuinely entertaining series about


Cosplay? Cosplay!

Well, mostly. There is of course the blossoming romance between the main characters, but when they are not obsessing over each other there attention is focused on making cosplay for Marin. Given Gojo’s skills in designing dresses for Hina dolls, Cosplay comes pretty naturally to him, and Marin (being a literal model as we come to find out later) wears his cosplay effortlessly.

This dynamic between the two of them is arguably what feels most enjoyable in the series. Marin tells him about one of her favorite characters, Gojo spends hours on research and coming up with a near perfect design, and then the two of them geek out over it when he finishes it. Of course there is a little more to it then that, but overall it feels incredibly wholesome and fun.

While dynamic female characters are definitely becoming more prominent in the medium, and despite my introduction focusing on the more pronounced sexual elements, it is worth noting that most of the show cast Marin in a light which hones in on her enjoyment of Cosplay. The romance, meanwhile, develops as a result of this, as opposed to be assumed from the beginning.

Pretty Colors!

Being the big, dumb stupid idiot who is easily impressed/entertained, I appreciate the shift towards brighter color palettes. Not that there is anything inherently wrong with drearier color schemes. it of course makes sense that this will changed depending on the tone and subject matter of the series attached to it. I guess what I really mean to say is that it is nice to see a shift in color to match the happier, more popcorn-y direction of slice of life/romance type shows.

With My Dress-Up Darling, in particular, the pinks and oranges stand out in a way that feels really pleasant to look at, especially against the background of Gojo’s house and the various cosplay locations they visit throughout the show. It reminds me a lot of Lovely Complex, in this way, which is certainly not a complaint.


I could speak more about the various problematic elements of the show, but honestly, for a series that is otherwise fairly light-hearted and enjoyable, it feels like wasted breath. It is not a masterpiece by any means, but it is, at the end of the day, fun. I cannot say this is going to be a series that everyone enjoys, but certainly a lot of people will.


How did you feel about My Dress-Up Darling? Let me know in the comments.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

As always, thanks to our patron Jenn for being amazing.

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: The Legend of Vox Machina

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


So, I have a confession to make: I do not care for watching D&D games. Given how short my attention span already is, the prospect of spending three or more hours watching someone else’s games feels tedious. I could maybe make an exception if the people playing were enjoyable personalities who I already liked, but that is about it.

That being said, the series under review today, The Legend of Vox Machina, is one that feels unique in its conception. That is because the series was actually funded on Kickstarter, and is based on the first campaign of Critical Role, a continual D&D campaign done by a number of high profile voice actors including Matthew Mercer, Laura Bailey, Travis Willingham, and a few others. The show is currently on its third campaign, although Vox Machina only covers content from the first.

The story falls in line with the campaign itself, following a band of adventurers who are widely considered the worst in the land, as evidenced by their drunken behavior and their seemingly massive debt. The group catches a break when the king of Exandria tasks them with finding and defeating a mysterious beast which has been ravaging the kingdom’s countryside. From there, the adventure continually escalates into larger and larger proportions

D&D and Fantasy Storytelling

D&D is a game that, by its very nature, invites a lot of creativity. Now, I am sure many of the people reading this who have played have also had bad experiences. This could have been because of a bad DM who only wanted to play in a very specific way or because the campaign itself was disorganized or boring. It happens. Still, for every bad D&D story there is also probably a great one, where the universe felt real even as everyone was sitting around a table looking at each other irl.

The level of detail that emerged from a campaign like this speaks not only to Matthew Mercer’s talent as a campaign writer but also to the work of the other voice actors who managed to write such profoundly fun characters. Nothing about The Legend of Vox Machina would comes even remotely close to working if it were not for such a likeable cast and gorgeous fantasy setting.

Of course, the show does also maintain a lot of the freeflowing quirks that come from the dailogue of said campaigns. What I mean is that a lot of the series humor can be boiled down a lot of cursing and sex, often randomly inserted into conversations without much of a purpose other than to serve as a random punchline. Given that I am perpetually 12 years old in regards to my bar for comedic quality, this does not bother me as much, but it might not jive with others.


Vocal Performances

Of course, the series also would not work as well if these characters were be handled by less capable actors. Luckily, though, that is not at all the case, as every member of the main cast does an incredible job at selling the authenticity of their in game personas. Additionally, the way the actors play off each other in the series feels less like a properly scripted show and more like stuff that got pulled directly from the campaign, though I cannot say that for sure given my lack of knowledge regarding Critical Role.

Everyone on the show had absolutely phenomenal performances, but some of my standouts include Ashley Johnson as Pike and Taliesin Jaffe as Percy. Pike definitely feels like the character to grab a beer with, although engaging in that kind of “sin,” funnily enough, does become a major plot point which felt fairly compelling despite how stale some of those plotlines in normal campaigns can often feel.

Percy’s character takes up a pretty significant chunk of the first season, and without spoiling too much, goes through a lot of development. Which, honestly, is great because Jaffe manages to strike a perfect balance of giving his character a distinct vocal presence without making him sound obnoxious. It is a little dissapointing knowing that Percy will be less of a focus in the next season.

While I would not say there is a bad vocal performance among the cast, the one that felt the least memorable was surpringly that of the main villain Sylas Briarwood, played by Matthew Mercer himself. Though his character was interesting, and vocally Mercer did well, it still felt the least unique of the main characters.

To Animate a Campaign

Honestly, the biggest question mark for me going into The Legend of Vox Machina was the animation. After all, the series managing to meet its goal on Kickstarter did not necessarily guarantee anything of quality. They did manage to get enough eyes on the project that Amazon Studios came in to help produce it, which was comforting given their already proven track record on shows like Invincible.

and yeah, the animation is absolutely incredible. All of the characters looked visually disntinct, except for some shared similarities in the designs of Vex and Vax (though this makes sense given their sibling relationship). The backgrounds, while not particularly inspired in a lot of cases, felt unique to the world, particularly in the latter half in the town of Whitestone. The big tree in the center of the city felt fairly distinct, albeit a little reminiscent of some earlier dragon quest games.

As far as action goes, this is probably some of the best animated action I have seen in quite a while. There is a unique fluidity in the movement and fighting styles of each character which feels inspired from shows like Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra. This makes sense, though, considering that Titmouse, another studio that worked on the series, was also responsible for large portions of The Last Airbender.


It could have been the case, very easily so, that this show turned out to be complete garbage which made fans who donated towards its sucess feel robbed. After all, in an age where a lot of people are making “content” it can be hard obtain a level of trust about a project’s quality. I am happy to say that we instead live in this timeline, one in which everyone involved is clearly passionate and focused on making in a good show, which is why it is one of my favorite animated series in recent memory.


Have you seen The Legend of Vox Machina? How do you feel about it? Let me know in the comments below.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

As always, thanks to our lovely patron Jenn for being amazing!

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: Wotakoi

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


Listen, I know romance has basically become a weekly ritual on the blog at this point, but I promise we will start covering some other stuff soon, just stick with me. After all, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, so why not celebrate by covering some more? Today I’ll be talking about a series that, while I initially lacked much interest in during its 2018 run, decided to watch because of a certain individual on the bird site (they know who they are lol). So, let us talk about Wotakoi: Love is Hard for Otaku.

After getting ousted as a massive otaku and subsequently breaking up with her boyfriend, Narumi Momose is effectively forced to transfer jobs. However, upon getting to her new company, she reunites with her childhood friend Hirotaka Nifuji and the two start hanging out like time stopped moving. Hirotaka eventually asks Momose out, and so the two of them, along with their other closet otaku friends Hanako Koyanagi and Taro Kabakura, must navigate their hobbies in secret.

Adulting is Hard, huh?

A large part of Wotakoi’s comedy comes from the intersection between the boring drudgery of the Japanese salary person and their life outside of work. In that way, the show is pretty similar to Aggretsuko. However, rather than being a satirical piece about the normalization of some pretty atrocious behavior and abuses of power, Wotakoi opts to take a much more straightforward, mostly non-serious romantic comedy route in its story.

In its own case, the series focuses on the main characters’ otaku tendencies, with each of them having their own unique interests within the otaku space. Narumi likes writing Doujinshi, as well as reading manga and watching anime. Her partner in crime Hirotaka is a solo gamer, spending most of his time on what appears to be a Monster Hunter-like game. Hanako is a cosplayer who focuses on male characters, and Taro is pretty much just your average manga reader who likes Yuri.


What I like most about the premise of Wotakoi is really just the admittance that, well, being an otaku is weird. Though it may be true that gaming and anime are pretty mainstream at this point, it does not stop those in professional environments from laying judgment. Coworkers, bosses: they are just that. Being ridiculed for weird hobbies is still pretty common.

I have said before that anime relying on relatability to drive narratives is a problem, and indeed, it still is. However, given how likable the series is overall, it can slide.

Nothing Lasts Forver, or Does It?

While the existence of the childhood best friend trope kind of confused me in the past, I can understand it a lot more now. It is comforting, at least, the idea of falling in love with someone who knows a lot about you, maybe even more than yourself. In that regard, Narumi and Hirotaka’s dynamic is both entertaining and heartwarming.

The two of them do not always know what to do or say. Sometimes they will avoid each other out of embarrassment, or they simply will not ask each other for help. It feels like a stretch to call this a feature of every relationship, but for two people who are reuniting after probably a decade, their relationship makes sense.

Hirotaka’s character, in particular, is fairly interesting in this regard. It is obvious they show decided to introduce him as aloof and unintentional. However, as Wotakoi goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that their separation never really changed how Hirotaka felt for his childhood friend. The person who was there for him always is the one he wants to be with, and that is pretty nice 🙂

A-1 Just Pictures

Considering the best thing A-1 Pictures has made outside of Wotakoi in the last half-decade is probably Kaguya-Sama, it feels weird that they have bothered to focus on anything else. After all, their track record for popular shows is Fairytail, Sword Ass Online, and Seven Deadly Frames (not my joke but I screamed when I heard it). So…yeah, maybe they should keep it a bit more lowkey.


As far as actually animation goes, this is also admittedly nothing special. The animation can largely be described as just fine, although there are plenty of scenes where the character movements feel a lot more expressive than in your typical rom-com series. My favorite parts are probably the gaming ones where the crew gets together to play an MMO, as the movements and character designs for those scenes I can only describe as incredibly cute.

Musically there were not a ton of stand-out pieces. Again, it all kind of felt just fine. The exception to this critique is the opening and, to a lesser extent, the ending, both of which had me bopping my head along.


Wotakoi was a definite surprise for me. It was not a series I was expecting to get much out of but ended up being incredibly entertaining, even if I would put some other series in its lane a bit ahead. For those that have the time and are looking for a solid romantic comedy with an otaku spin, this is the series for you.


How do you all feel about Wotakoi? Let me know in the comments.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

Special shoutout as always to our lovely patron Jenn for being incredibly awesome

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: Aggretsuko Season Four

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


A part of me feels weird that I am even writing this review in the first place. After all, season three of Aggretsuko ended in a really good place, demonstrating the presumptuousness of others during times of personal trauma. Retsuko screams into Haida’s face while doing some karaoke, and ideally, he gets the message, right?

Unfortunately, no. As much as I was, at least initially, pleasantly surprised about a fourth season of what has since become one of my comfort series, the reality of its quality is much different. I often try to stay away from others’ opinions of a show before actually watching, but Hiding in Public’s excellent breakdown of Aggretsuko’s fourth season just so happened to pop up in my YouTube recommended, and they pretty much hit the nail on the head.

Now, honestly, I could just leave it at that because of how well-structured that video is, but that feels kind of lazy. So, I will do my best to break down what works about the season and what does not.

Remembering the Point of Aggretsuko

From its initial debut back in 2018 up to the best points in season four, Aggretsuko has always been a hilarious satire of Japanese work culture. There is the asshole boss who barely hides his disdain for those below him in Ton, the workplace gossiper who seemingly knows everything about everyone in Kabae, and the one who seems like they honestly might kill someone in Anai.

Limited personal experience aside, I have heard enough stories from others with similar office jobs to validate these experiences, and ya know what? They are genuinely funny because they come from a real place. As I talked about back in 2019, the series deals with some sad realities of Japanese work culture, especially for women, even more so younger women. Given how extreme these situations can be, satirization comes across as justified.

Additionally, what makes Retusko’s character so compelling is not just the aforementioned sad realities, but that she is treated like a real…red panda? person rather than a helpless victim. What comes across as more disturbing in a lot of these instances is not so much the behavior itself, although it is absolutely terrible, but rather the normalization of that behavior. All of this is to say that Aggretsuko‘s best moments come from its comedy, not

The Drama

Oh, golly gee Batman, where to start with this…

The more dramatic moments in Aggretsuko have always been a bit weird because while they are never particularly bad, few stand out as particularly good either. The best I think happens during seasons one and two when the topic of marriage becomes a serious one for Retsuko, as pressure from her parents combined with her fling with Tadano has her questioning what she wants to do with her life.

Though they do become more prominent and take up more screen time as the seasons go on, at the very least, it creates a new dynamic in the relationship between Retsuko and her co-workers. The Drama in season four, however, is a bit different.

The season starts out simple enough, with the new CEO of the company taking a much more active role and asking Ton to fire some people. Of course, his hatred for everyone there is only overtaken by his respect for the people who do honest work and tells the CEO exactly that. A solid comedic bit with room for light-heartedness.


However, as the season reaches its halfway point and it seems that romance between Haida and Retsuko is finally attainable, Aggretsuko, well, just throws it all away. Doing a total 180 with virtually no warning, everyone seemingly turns into a different character, and the latter half becomes a soap opera level drama about Haida and the CEO teaming up to *checks notes*

…forge the company’s sales numbers before the final quarter as a way of increasing profits? Oh, and did I mention Haida becomes accounting director and Ton gets fired leading to Ton and the other accounting department members collaborating on a scheme to take Haida and the CEO down?

Literally, nothing about the fourth season’s second half makes any bit of sense. I was honestly more concerned that Netflix had just forgotten to put up some of the episodes, but no, this is apparently the creative direction they had, so…yeah.

Some Good Character Moments with Ton and Kabae

Even though it was pretty bad, I do not want people to walk away from this review thinking there was zero positive reception on my end. In fact, there are definitely hints of a few good ideas, most notably the arcs of Ton and Kabae

Directo Ton has always been a sort of villain character for the series, making Retsuko and others’ lives living hell. Still, the dude is only human. He has a family he needs to provide for, and it is not like being a middle manager necessarily means he is swimming in money. No, what works about his character in season four is how willing the show is to humanize him as someone who wants to do right by the people he cares for.

The same can be said for Kabae, whose story about “voluntarily” being ousted by higher-ups and making the decision to stay at home for her kid is both heartwarming but also tragic, again speaking to the realities faced by women in the workplace that Aggretsuko as a series is so well versed in.

These two are highlights of the entire season. Both of them are humanized in a way that plays towards their personalities. Sadly, though, both of their moments get cut fairly short. If this season had chosen to focus on them as opposed to whatever the hell those last 5 episodes were then it might have ended up being a fair bit better.


I wish I could say that the bad outways the good here, but that just is not the case. Season four ended up taking a really solid formula for relatable comedy and heart-warming moments and apparently forgetting it entirely. This will probably end up being one of the bigger disappointments for me this year.


How did you feel about Aggretsuko’s latest season? Let me know in the comments below.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

As always, big shoutout to our patron Jenn, the support is greatly appreciated.

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: Belle

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


Talking about this movie has been a long time in the making, and something I have been excited about for just as long. Mamoru Hosoda, along with Studio Chizu, has become one of my favorite teams in the world of anime. Though his films are a bit more family-centric, it never stops them from being exciting from beginning to end.

Belle, I am happy to report, is not much different in that regard. At a little over two hours in run time, the movie manages to fit in an action-packed, colorful adventure while managing to tackle some tuff themes like abuse and the psychology of absent parents. However, it is by no means perfect, and while it is not a bad film, it is probably on the lower end of Hosoda’s catalog for a few key reasons which I will get into.

Why Belle?

In case anyone missed the memo, the film’s title of Belle is both a reference to our main character Suzuku’s online avatar in the world of U, as well as the name of the main character from the classic Disney film Beauty and the Beast. In fact, the film borrows a lot of its core plotline from Beauty and the Beast.

Belle tells the story of the aforementioned Suzu and her online persona Belle. In the introductory moments of the movie, we are shown how she lost her mom while she was trying to save a kid from drowning in a raging river, and also that Suzu’s mom loved to teach her music. Fast forward a bit and suddenly, with the help of her best friend/producer Hiroka, her avatar Belle has become the number one music sensation in the country.

Most of the story’s actual plot takes place in U, a worldwide social media platform that takes real-world physical and biological data from its users to create a virtual avatar. It is stated a few times throughout the film that Suzu joins U because the death of her mother left her too traumatized to sing in real life. Thus, Belle becomes both her persona as well as a tool through which to release her feelings.

The story of Belle overall is incredibly fast-paced and engaging. However, the transition from its initial focus on Suzu and her road to healing to the introduction of the Beast character feels kind of break-neck. Literally, Belle is about to give a virtual concert, and with no prior foreshadowing, he just kind of shows up and starts fighting people. A charitable interpretation might be that this quick introduction can serve as a metaphor for its thematic elements, but it more so comes off as poor planning.


How is the Music This Pretty?!

The one thing I was not expecting out of Belle was to be blown away by its musical content, or even for there to be any music in the first place. I went into the film more or less blind, and while I did see a trailer or two, it never registered that there was going to be an entire storyline about it.

It is at this point that I should probably mention that I have, at the time of writing this, only seen the film in its dubbed version, and thus the singing and lyrical content I talk about will be in reference to that. Now, getting back to it, wow this soundtrack is basically just ear candy.

The production overall across the film is incredible, from its more climatic and cinematic songs down to the more low-key instrumentals, every song puts in work and I honestly cannot say there is a boring musical moment here. Kylie McNeill was not a name that likely anyone recognized and yet her singing as Suzu and Belle could not have been better.

As a point of comparison, I did listen to some of the bigger tracks in Japanese. While Kaho Nakamura is undoubtedly also very talented, my lack of having seen the Japanese version in full, combined with my English bias still has me appreciating the native version a bit more.

…The Voice Acting

and here is the part where I have to be a bit harsher because as fantastic of a singer as McNeill is, her and the other English VAs’ voice-overs are…rough, to say the least.

At first, it does not come across as super noticeable. After all, one of the ways characters get distinguished vocally is to give them all their own oral quirks. However, as the film goes on, especially in some of the more drawn-out, quieter moments, the awkwardness of the lines becomes all the more apparent. It is partially understandable, given how socially awkward all of the characters are, but it feels like some sections of the script were just straight up put through google translate and then given directly to the voice actors.

What is worse, the lip-syncing team was either non-existent or simply not given enough time to properly do their jobs. There are a number of points where it feels like lines either ran far too long for what the character was saying or too short, and almost no work was done to fix it. The Dubbing is by far the weakest element of Belle, and unfortunately, it is too apparent not to address.


Anime Studio Budgets When They’re Making a Movie:

Ok, now I can go back to being nice. The animation was also a high point and one of the big reasons to see this film. Normally my expectations for animation in anime films are much higher because, well, they are not spreading out all their money over 12 or even 24 episodes.

No, what makes Belle special in this regard is not the quality itself, although it is quite high. Rather, the blend of virtual reality and fantasy creates a unique color palette. The buildings towering over the world of U, The castle which serves as the Beast’s hiding spot, the background characters who all have a design that feels genuinely personal: All of it comes together in a way that compliments Belle‘s vision.

Why Abuse?

Turning again to its story elements, Hosoda’s decision to reimagine the story of Beauty and the Beast as explicitly centered on physical and emotional abuse is one that I sincerely applaud. Almost by definition, it is not an easy subject to broach, let alone in the context of online interaction, especially given the number of documentaries that have pointed out rather thoroughly how it can go unseen.

The internet is a strange place, after all. In the same amount of time that it takes for us to scroll through Twitter when we wake up people have likely been kidnapped and trafficked using the same technology. However, the decision to have that same technology be what saves K and his brother as a way of inspiring hope was a good one.


Belle is a strange case because it is pretty much the only Hosoda film where I feel as though seeing both the English and Japanese versions are necessary for having a complete opinion. Too many problems arise because of the English version for me to give it a perfect score. So, for those that do plan on seeing it, try giving the Japanese version a watch, and let me know how that goes.


How do you all feel about Belle? Let me know in the comments below.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

Special shout out to our Patron Jenn for being incredibly awesome!

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: Blue Flag

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


Romance in any genre is a really hard thing to get right, as there are so many considerations for what constitutes a good romance story. A romance that is straightforward might be labeled too earnest and simple, but one that is trying to weave together multiple character arcs over a short period could get written off as simply overdoing it. Characters that have one-dimensional motivations can come across as boring, but making them super idealistic and ambitious also comes across as a bit pretentious

Blue Flag somehow manages to circumvent all of this and is, without exaggeration, is one of the best romance stories I have consumed in a while. I said this about Golden Time as well back when I watched in the middle of last year, and I am being equally as sincere about Blue Flag. Idk what it is, but I guess I just managed to find all of the good stuff recently.

The story of this manga focuses on Taichi Ichinose, a high school student who finds himself suddenly reconnecting with his childhood best friend, Touma Mita as well as helping a fellow classmate, Futaba Kuze, get together with him. What both Taichi and Futaba do not know, however, is Touma’s secret romantic feelings for Taichi, along with Futaba’s best friend Masumi Itachi’s feelings for her. This love quadrangle only gets messier as time passes, and each of them is forced to make choices about their future.

LGBTQ+ Romance

As unfortunate as it is to say, there are very few stories period, let alone once in which the primary drive is romance, that handle queer relationships in a way that is not one-dimensional or fetishistic. After all, the mainstream view of these communities has and still is, very often clouded by stereotypes. While I imagine the context in modern Japan is probably at least somewhat different than our own, many of these stereotypes seem to be universal.

Thus, it was a wonderful surprise to read a story in which most of those problems are non-existent, in which the characters dealt with the idea of a same-sex couple in a way that was, maybe a bit outdated by today’s standards, but still a real scenario that many gay people go through. When I talked about Blue Period last week, I mentioned how the character of Yuka has been praised for being a non-binary character whose identity does not become her only focus.

What I appreciate is how Blue Flag has a similar dynamic with its characters. Though the comparison is not as one to one due to the identity of Toma and Taichi being very much the center of the story, it still feels as though they are treated as wholistic, independent characters even outside of their continually evolving and messy relationship.


Handling Character Relationships

As I mentioned before, striking the right balance of having too many overly developed characters versus overly simplistic ones is a difficult task. I would argue that a story like Beastars, for example, for as rich as its attempts at world-building are, has far too many non-sensical plotlines to ever feel like a satisfying series. Granted, Beastars is not over yet, whereas Blue Flag is, but the point is there regardless.

Mangaka Kaito has a strong grasp of what it means to introduce a character. Not only does every character feel developed into their own person by the end of the series, but each one gets the chance to interact and understand the others across a cast of 10+ notable characters and a mere 54 chapters. This includes everyone, from the aforementioned main Quadrangle to Toma and Taichi’s extended friend circle.

The only exception to this is Taichi’s parents, and while it would have been interesting to weave in another backstory about Taichi through their perspective, doing so in a way that is forced or uninteresting could have also hurt the series, so I certainly do not blame the author for leaving them aside. One could also include Futaba’s relatives on that list, but I would argue that the small snippets Kaito does give us of her home life are sufficient to justify her character’s behavior.

Fantastic Artwork

As infrequently as I talk about manga, I usually avoid talking about the artwork at any great length because my repertoire for comparison is so laughably small. After all, what makes for good art in anime is not always the same as what makes for good art in manga. Still, I cannot help but sing Blue Flag’s praises in this regard as well.

The backgrounds, in particular, are worth pointing out, as no matter what location the characters are at, whether it be downtown Tokyo, high school, etc, there is almost always something to stop and look at. Even in the cases where the art takes a back seat to character interactions, such as the hijinks between Taichi and Futaba, it is done for comedic or dramatic effect. Thus, I would consider its artwork to be about as amazing as a manga can get.


Playing with Perspective

Perspective is one of those literary tools that is always there for non-written mediums of entertainment but very rarely gets utilized in a way that feels at all innovative. The best example is obviously video games, in which the interactive nature of the medium invites a variety of different storytelling perspectives. Manga, meanwhile, is, by and large, a third-person medium, in which characters are seen only from an outsider’s view.

Blue Flag, however, remains unafraid of experimentation. While admittedly not utilized all that much, the series is still willing to take a look at people’s past through the lenses of those characters. Two great examples are the backstory chapters for both Touma and Taichi, where each one has the past revisited from the first-person perspective, which allows us to view the character’s past from their perspective.

In Taichi’s case, we get a view that is largely in the shadow of Touma, who was more popular and had more friends even in junior high. Even as he comes out of this shadow, and meets a girl not unlike Futaba, it is only so that she can confess to Touma. With Touma, we see, from his perspective, his household before and after the tragic accident involving his parents, and how that affects his relationship with others.

All of this is complemented by the way Kaito plays with a first-person perspective in the final chapter. Someone whose name is listed as Ichinose is invited to Futaba’s wedding some seven years later, but it is revealed later on that Taichi was at Yokki’s wedding which landed on the same day.

This combined with a cheekily placed shot of two people in suits holding hands, combined with the noticeable absence of Touma directly, tells us that it is in fact his perspective that the chapter is seen through. What is heavily implied throughout the entire series is revealed in a way that is both unique and playful, fitting the personality of the two main characters.

A Few Gripes…

The series did a lot right in terms of its story composition, character relationships, and artwork. however, there are a few things that I wish were done differently.

First, for as fantastic as the dialogue in the series can be, there are also times where it becomes a bit overbearing. This is most evident in the scenes with Mami and the other minor characters who talk… a lot. Though this is certainly in character for them, it does get a bit annoying when I have to squint just to read every word on the page while only a foot away from my computer. Luckily, these moments are much fewer and farther between, but still feel a tad too present.

Second, why Kaito decided to go as far as invoking child molestation to defend Kensuke’s terrible behavior towards Touma I will honestly never understand. I get that his beliefs are supposed to be irrational, and also that Kensuke himself is supposed to be stupid, but surely there was another way without legitimizing a terrible perspective like that, no?


While I do not know that I could say Blue Flag is perfect by any means, and some of its thematic elements do run up against cliche more often than not, it is, at least, great. What it lacks in grace and brevity it more than makes up for in solid pacing and amazing payoff. What is more, I can honestly see myself coming back to it in a few years as well. If you have yet to read this series, then I would say it is more than worth the two dollars a month from Viz for this series alone.

How do you feel about Blue Flag? Let me know in the comments below. As part of my new year’s resolution, I said that I would be putting out at least one video a month, and for this month, I’ll be revisiting The Promised Neverland, so stay tuned for that.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

Special thanks again to our Patreon member Jenn, it is greatly appreciated.

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!


The Observation Deck: Komi Can’t Communicate

Welcome, weebs, to Animated Observations


I think the thing that I enjoy most about slice-of-life comedies is that, well, there is no rush to be anywhere. In her video on Azumanga Daioh, YouTuber hazel discusses how, despite the lack of any overarching plot, the series still makes you care about its characters. Whether it be one of the main girls, or even one of the side characters three tiers removed, each of them comes into their own in some way. Ultimately, hazel describes the series as perfect, at least to her.

While I cannot say have anywhere near the same attachment to a series like Komi Can’t Communicate, it certainly does have its charms. The series stars its namesake character Komi as she begins her high school life. However, given her extreme social anxiety, she cannot talk to anyone, and yet everyone in her school treats her like a god. With the help of fellow classmate Tadano, Komi hopes to make many friends.

I Mean, What’s There to Say, Really?

The problem with talking about a series like Komi Can’t Communicate is that, well, there is not actually that much to dissect. A lot of what makes the series work is whether or not 1) one buys into its core premise, and 2) finds it funny enough to stick with for a whole 12 episodes. Otherwise, the show just kind of fails.

Ok, maybe that is a little harsh. After all, it does work for me. Part of that, I think, is the character of Komi herself. While I have never known anyone to be socially anxious to the point of literally being speechless, as an exaggerated metaphor for how it can be to go through high school without strong social skills, it works. I know I was definitely not one to make friends easily, and it was only after joining my high school newspaper that I made any significant friends and gained my confidence.

However, for people lacking those same experiences, the comedy might not hit in the same way. A large part of comedy is the subjective experiences that inform them, to begin with. In that respect, I think Komi covers just enough bases that even those outside its target audience will find something worth enjoying, assuming they stick around.


So, Does She Actually Not Communicate?

Tadano, being the one who agrees to help her find friends, ends up being the other main character. The show itself describes him as agreeable, but ultimately dull and average. Now, as much as I can appreciate the self-insult, it does not change the fact that he is actually pretty uninteresting.

A lot of the jokes in the series are made at his expense but rarely do they ever lead to any significant changes in his character. In fact, most of the development he does go through in the series happens as a result of helping Komi make friends. Again, none of this is to say that having no overarching story is bad, far from it, but whereas Azumanga Daioh’s ending makes one feel connected to its cast, Tadano hardly inspires that same satisfaction.

The one exception to this is the burgeoning romance between him and Komi, and of course, by burgeoning I mean not at all and that Tadano is so slow in recognizing Komi is into him that they literally introduced a whole new character in the last three episodes of the first season to tell him how dumb he is. Honestly, now that I write that all out, it is really funny. Gotta hand it to the writers on that one.

The Side Characters

Despite Tadano being relatively uninteresting as the main character, there are others who pick up his slack. Najimi, Tadano’s childhood best friend and one of the first to befriend Komi, acts as a big chaotic neutral, mostly doing whatever seems fun at the moment and rarely thinks about the consequences.

Some of the best moments in the series actually come from a recurring bit with Najimi and Komi. Usually, this involves Najimi jokingly asking Komi to go get her something as a way of boosting her social skills, often giving her a complicated order, and Komi agreeing. Komi never actually comes back with the right thing of course, and the process itself often scares her half to death. However, it highlights both how carefree Najimi is and how hard Komi is working to communicate with other people.

Yamai is another character who is, well, also not funny. Her introductory episode involves her abducting Tadano for over a day, locking him in her room, and inviting Komi over to hang out. While I can certainly appreciate a good Yandere in specific contexts, comedy is not really one of them, as the joke usually just boils down to “tehe, I’m crazy.”


The Last Five Minutes

While the last episode was, on the whole, nothing to write home about, the final bit was really thoughtful. It starts with the main characters singing Kareoke together to the show’s ending theme. Afterward, it cuts from credits back to a scene of Komi, alone in her room appreciating all of her classmates by writing down their names, with Tadano’s name placed squarely at the top of the list.

We then get a sequence of class 1-1 filming the outro sequence to the show, with Komi finally being able to say “Yoroshiku, Onegaishimasu,” which is a way of saying “I look forward to working with you,” or, less literally, “I hope we can be friends.” It then cuts to a black screen which dedicates the series to those with social anxiety. Though it does not make up for the more lackluster parts of the series, it was a pretty thoughtful ending and one that I appreciate.


To be frank, there are a lot of Slice of Life comedy series that I would go to before Komi Can’t Communicate. Horimiya, Chuunibyou, hell, I would even go as far back as School Rumble. Still, that does not mean there are no good qualities here. Komi is a likable enough walking metaphor, and seeing any potential development in her character is worth waiting for the second season.

How do you all feel about Komi Can’t Communicate? Let me know in the comments below.

If you are interested in reading more from me, check under blog to read my most recent stuff, or look below for some related posts. Also, if you would like to support Animated Observations, consider donating on Ko-fi or through paypal, or pledging on Patreon. You can even support by just liking and sharing this post.

Buy Me a Coffee at

Check out my writing blog, Solidly Liquid!

Special shoutout to our Patreon supporter Jenn, it is greatly appreciated.

If you can’t, or just don’t feel like it, no worries. Thank you all for reading, and goodbye, for now, friends!