#he’d be good at academia and he likes learning he’s just a busy dude !!

[mrsmiroir]

i just find it so funny how jesper is the crow with the highest formal education, with the exception of maybe nina, and his best friend is a third grade dropout who taught himself about the stock market for funsies

[intheticklecloset]

Sibling Bonding (My Hero Academia)

This fic was purchased from my Coffee Shop Wish List by a generous supporter. Thank you!

Primary Universe

Summary: Spring break has arrived, and Todoroki heads home to spend some time with his older siblings since Endeavor is out of town. When he accidentally reveals that he's ticklish, things take a giggly turn very quickly!

A/N: YES I'm so excited to share this one! Earlier this year somebody suggested a Todoroki siblings fic, which I declined at the time because I didn't feel like I'd be able to do it justice. Later I felt more confident and put it on my Wish List, and now it's been purchased for your reading pleasure! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,915

~~~

“I’m here,” Todoroki announced without flourish as he entered his home for the first time in months, kicking off his shoes in the entryway.

Fuyumi poked her head around the corner from the kitchen where she was working on dinner. “Welcome back, Shoto.”

"Thanks.” Todoroki shrugged off his backpack and entered the kitchen, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He felt awkward, but did his best to ignore it. “It smells great. What is it?”

“Soba.”

He blinked at her. “You…didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

“It’s no trouble at all. It’s your favorite food, right? I wanted to make today special. It’s the first day of your spring break and you’re spending it with us!” Fuyumi smiled at him. “I want you to have a great time.”

Todoroki nodded at her. “Thank you for cooking.”

“Of course. Natsuo should be here any minute. You can take a seat in the dining room if you want. We can talk easier that way.”

“Okay.”

But instead, he leaned against a counter she didn’t appear to be using, putting his hands in his pockets. His first instinct was to cross his arms, but he didn’t want to come across as grumpy or ungrateful. He was truly happy to be here, finally able to spend time with his siblings without the presence of his father to ruin his mood.

It had been Fuyumi’s idea. Endeavor was out of the prefecture on business, which left her and Natsuo home alone for the first time in a while. That, and it was spring break for U.A., which meant Todoroki was free to come over and hang out with them without having to get permission to leave the campus. Fuyumi had quickly arranged for this first day to be spent having dinner together.

“So…” his sister said after a brief pause. “How’s school going?”

*

A couple of hours later, dinner was over, the dishes were in the dishwasher, and the Todoroki siblings sat around in the living room staring at each other awkwardly. None of them really knew how to proceed.

Still, Natsuo tried. “So, uh, Shoto. What kind of stuff do you like to do?”

Todoroki knew what he meant. What should we do now that dinner’s over? He thought for a moment. “Well…my friends and I play Mario Kart a lot, I guess.”

Fuyumi perked up. “You like video games?”

“They’re fine.”

“Well, we don’t have Mario Kart,” Natsuo said, “but we do have the latest Mario Party game. Do you want to try that?”

“Sure.”

Todoroki helped his siblings set up the game, then selected Yoshi as his character and proceeded to inadvertently dominate both of them as time went on. He won several mini-games and always seemed to get to the star first, no matter the circumstances. He honestly couldn’t tell if he was really good, or if his siblings were just really bad. Or both.

“Jeez, Shoto!” Natsuo finally exclaimed after the youngest sibling got his fifth star – three ahead of Fuyumi, who had two. He nudged Todoroki, his elbow pressing into his ribs. “Give us a chance to catch up!”

Todoroki giggled.

The room went silent for a moment.

“Shoto?” Fuyumi asked, staring at him incredulously. “Are you okay?”

Todoroki knew he was blushing and he wished desperately that he could have held in his reaction better than that. But it was too late now, and he knew it. He sighed. “Yes, I’m fine. Natsuo nudged me and it…it tickled. That’s all.”

Natsuo’s eyes lit up. “You’re ticklish? Really?”

“Nat,” Fuyumi warned.

Todoroki hesitated. Game forgotten now, he glanced between his siblings on either side of him and struggled to decide how he wanted to proceed. He knew they wouldn’t touch him without permission – knowing what he’d gone through with their father kept them from doing that much, at least. But he didn’t want to brush them off, either. As it happened, he did enjoy being tickled to an extent, but he’d never been tickled by family before.

“I…um…” he swallowed, heart racing. What would they think if they knew the other half of it, too? That he enjoyed doing the tickling?

Fuyumi reached out as though to put a hand on his shoulder, then stopped herself. “Shoto, it’s okay. We won’t tickle you if you don’t want us to. Right, Nat?”

“Definitely not.” His brother was surprisingly emphatic, nodding. “I was just surprised to learn you were, that’s all. If you don’t like it I’m not going to tickle you just for the sake of it.”

“I…I do like it.” Todoroki mumbled, setting his controller down, hoping that would be enough invitation for them. “My friends tickle me quite a lot, actually. It’s fun. As long as you stop when I ask you to.”

Natsuo grinned, setting his controller down, too. “So you don’t automatically say ‘stop’ when you’re being tickled, huh, Sho? That’s interesting.” He poked him in the ribs again. “Cute, too.”

Todoroki smiled, pulling away only the tiniest bit.

“Fuyumi? I think we have some long overdue sibling bonding to catch up on.”

She beamed. “I totally agree.”

And that was it. The next thing he knew, Todoroki had been tackled to the floor, fingers digging into his ribs and sides and belly in rapid succession, giggles bubbling up out of him quicker than he had time to process. He squealed and curled up, but did his best not to push them away. He also never said a word of protest.

“Aww, you really do like it, don’t you?” Fuyumi cooed, wiggling her fingers up into his underarm. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

Todoroki yelped, his whole body jerking when she found one of his hot spots, and his squirming became near-thrashing when she realized what she’d done and continued to do it. Natsuo laughed, grabbing his wrists and pulling them above his head with little resistance, giving their sister full access to his armpits.

Fuyumi dug in, smiling wide as her youngest brother tossed his head back and laughed freely, eyes squeezed shut and teeth showing as he beamed happily, legs kicking behind her. “Aw, is this a good spot, Sho? Does it tickle really bad here?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!!” he cried, arching his back as she raked her nails from his underarms to his hips, searching for another hot spot. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! CAHAHAHAREFUL!!”

“I will be,” she promised.

“I want in on the fun, too!” Natsuo declared, shifting so he was sitting on Todoroki’s arms, pinning them above his head while he leaned down to pinch at his ribs and sides, sometimes scribbling along his neck and ears as well.

Todoroki dissolved into giggles, flustered beyond belief but still enjoying himself. Then Fuyumi squeezed his thigh experimentally, and he screeched with a new round of fresh laughter, shaking his head. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Ooh, another bad spot?” she teased, squeezing gently, drawing loud laughter from him every time. “You’re really ticklish, aren’t you, Sho?”

“I KNOHOHOHOHOHOW!!” he laughed, digging his heels into the carpeted floor. “PLEASE, IT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES A LOHOHOHOHOHOT!!”

“Are you still okay?” she asked. “Do you want us to stop?”

Todoroki whined but shook his head. “I’M FIHIHIHIHIHINE!!”

“Fuyumi, I want a turn!” Natsuo complained, releasing Todoroki’s arms and shuffling down to join her. “Let me try some spots! Don’t take all the fun of experimenting away from me.”

“Fine, fine, you big baby,” she shot back playfully, scribbling lightly over Todoroki’s sides and belly. “Go on, try his knees and feet.”

Todoroki couldn’t help the sound that escaped him at the mention of his feet being one of the next targets. He slapped his hands over his mouth the instant it was out, but it was too late.

“Oh? None of that,” Fuyumi admonished gently, pulling his hands away from his mouth and down to his sides, straddling him, pinning them in place as she danced her fingers over his ribs, occasionally sneaking into his underarms as well.

“I’m not getting anything here,” Natsuo said, squeezing Todoroki’s knees but not getting any kind of twitch or extra giggles for his efforts.

“Then try his feet.”

Todoroki couldn’t help it. He pleaded, “Behehehe careful, plehehehease, I’m reheheheally ticklish there!”

“Oh?~” Natsuo grinned, pulling off his socks and scribbling wildly over his bare soles. “Are you, now?”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! CRAP, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Todoroki shrieked, tossing his head back and unleashing loud, uncontrollable bouts of laughter that had both of his siblings staring at him in shock. He squirmed uselessly, trapped under Fuyumi’s weight and – following that outburst – Natsuo’s as he straddled his legs and went to work tickling him like crazy on his worst spot in true brotherly fashion. “NONONONO PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! NAHAHAHAHAHATSUO!!”

Fuyumi grinned. She’d never seen Shoto look so happy in his life, and despite his ticklish distress and the pleas falling from his mouth, he never once said stop, never once looked to be truly panicked. He was loving this, she realized, and it made her heart so full she thought it might burst.

Laughter was truly the best medicine.

“AAAIEEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!!” Todoroki suddenly screamed, laughing so hard his hysterics went silent. He shook his head desperately, trying to gasp for breath. “NO MORE NO MORE PLEHEHEHEHEASE NO!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Fuyumi climbed off of him. “Nat, get off, he’s had enough.”

Natsuo complied, but he was laughing just as hard as his younger brother had been moments ago. “Dude, your laugh is the best thing in the world! You know that? Got a serious sweet spot on your arches, don’t you, little bro?”

Todoroki curled into a ball, still giggling, still smiling. “Y-Yeheheah…thanks f-fohohor stopping…”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to go too far.” Natsuo ruffled his hair, beaming down at him. He and Fuyumi shared smiles with each other.

“Are you okay? Let me get you some water,” she said, hurrying into the kitchen and returning a moment later with a glass.

Todoroki took it gratefully, taking a few sips after he sat up. Then he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You guys probably think I’m such a child.”

“Shoto, sweetie, you are a child.” Fuyumi smirked, winking at him. “You’re the baby of the family, remember? But that doesn’t matter. Liking tickling doesn’t make you any less of a man. Or a pro hero.”

“For sure,” Natsuo agreed. He nudged his shoulder. “If anything, we think it’s awesome. Right, Fuyumi? It just means we have a guaranteed way to make you smile.”

Todoroki never imagined his first time really spending time with his brother and sister would wind up like this, but he wasn’t complaining. Not in the slightest. He smiled, unable to contain his relief and happiness. “There…there is one more thing, though.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Fuyumi asked gently.

He bit his lip, then glanced between them. “I like doing the tickling more.”

They went quiet.

They looked at each other.

Natsuo jumped to his feet. “Crap, Fuyumi – we’d better run!”

Fuyumi took his hand as he offered it to her, and they began to disappear from the living room.

“Wait!” Todoroki cried, worried he’d ruined the happy feeling from moments before. “I won’t do it unless you’re okay with—”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Sho?!” Natsuo called from somewhere in the hallway. “Come get us, tickle monster!”

“You can’t catch us!” Fuyumi sang teasingly.

That familiar fire flared up within Todoroki, and he beamed and leapt to his feet, chasing after them.

Sibling bonding went both ways, after all.

[nadnex]

actually as long as im thinking abt it can u tell us more about fareed in general

goddammit i wrote some shit for this and accidentally refreshed my page SOBS. i can tell y'all a bit more SURE

so like fareed is one of the older trolls i have in their little group. when the story first starts, he, diomka, prydia and oscuro are close to the age of being shipped off planet, and are around 17/18. everyone else is around 15/16

Since he’s a teal he was basically assigned middle class at birth, and is pretty happy with the System (tm) since it benefits teals and doesn't negatively affect him in any way as long as he doesn't piss anyone off. He doesn’t like lowbloods on the blood caste very much, but mostly just Rust Bloods.If he saw a rustblood anywhere near his property he would probably be peeking out of his window like :

with his hand on his palm husk ready to call the drones almost immediately.

He’s also exclusively into men, but mostly violets since they’re rich and he has a big fantasy of having a sugar daddy to pamper his ass but he’d never like. actually tell anyone that. He just likes the fishstick....Anyways, Fareed is also trans and post op. He think’s its his personal business and isn’t really comfy with people he doesn’t know or trust trying to pry into his personal life.

Fareed is a guy who really cares about how he looks to other people, especially to kiss the ass of those above him. He’s a pretty smart dude, face in academia most of the time,  but when it comes to street smarts, he’d die out there. Fareed in a place with no rules? he’d die. He is however, actually pretty funny and enjoys to hang out with his friends when he’s not busy studying or whatever the fuck else he does with his time. Fareed is also super easy to dunk on, and since he’s a pretentious, sarcastic GROUCH of a dude, his responses to being insulted are absolutely hilarious. he also dresses like a grandpa. a grandpa who probably maaaaaaaybe watches troll big bang theory.

Fareed wants to know everything there is to know about whatever he’s into, and settles for nothing short of perfection with whatever bullshit legislacerator crap teals are required to learn. The thing is. He’s not actually all into it? He can recite his books word for word but its not. stimulating enough for him. He’s actually really into science, but most especially astrophysics and quantum mechanics. He’s a huge fucking nerd and the only good thing he can see from coming out of him being shipped off planet is that he can experience his species advanced technology first hand. the shitty thing is that hes gonna have to be a stupid ass space lawyer til he dies which is a total fuck. On top of that being an actual adult in the actual adult world is a really scary concept for him, and the basic rules hes used to on his planet ... may not always apply for wherever he’s going. He’s more likely to die somewhere out there in space than the planet he currently living in.Death really scares him a lot and he kind of just tries to ignore the fact that so many kids are already dying on his home planet. If he’s walking past a fucked up lowblood neighborhood with dead kids on the street he’ll pull out his palm husk or think about anything else so he doesnt have to contemplate the fact that shit is just absolutely fucked.

sorry FOR WORD dump but i love this idiot! thank u for askin and readin

[idiopath-fic-smile]

have you ever put any thought into what's going on with the ABC gang in WAR a decade on? like, a lot of high school aus that use homophobia as a plot point are deliberately set in the 70s or the 80s, so it gets a little depressing because they'll have to wait decades for things to really get better - but you set WAR in 2006, which is *so cool* because in less than 10 years it goes from, well, 2006, to obergefell v. hodges.

this question is a bit complicated by the fact that i’m still working on adapting WAR into a novel, and the characters are a little different (i combined a lot of people, and also made most of them female) so this is specifically for the Les Mis fanfic version. 

also, this is more just my overall headcanon for the epilogue of WAR. take it with a grain of salt, none of this is True Canon, death of the author, etc

-it is my cherished secret headcanon that the members of the ABC gradually realize (in some cases, YEARS later) that actually none of them were straight, cis, and allo, with the possible exception of combeferre. 

ex) high school jehan ID’s as gay, but once they’re in the place to have more vocabulary for it, they come out as trans, nonbinary but femme-leaning (while continuing to be mostly into dudes). i think that eponine is bi (and also realizes pretty late that she’s nonbinary.) joly and bossuet are both bi. cosette is a lesbian. marius is ace. (their relationship worked in part because neither ever pressured the other, for anything. it was kind of more like playing house.) bahorel ID’s as straight for the longest time, but there’s a couple of male celebrities he jokes about as his “exceptions” until he realizes one day, hmm not really a joke. courfeyrac in high school considers himself gay, but after jehan comes out, realizes in retrospect he doesn’t fall perfectly on one end of the kinsey scale, either.

-molly keeps the ABC alive once the others graduate. gavroche joins when he becomes a freshman, and by his senior year, the club is double its original size. (he jokes it’s because he made LGBTQ rights cool, but really, a tide is turning.)

-enjolras stays politically active and does a lot of nonprofit and organizing work all throughout college. in ‘08, he joins one of those groups that goes door to door registering voters (so does jehan, who attends the same university). enjolras’s experiences with other people, people NOT from affluent suburbs, open his eyes in a good way and make him a little less intense about his own point of view.

-most of the ABC kids are swept up in the excitement of the first obama campaign. combeferre actually gets emotional, talking about it; he writes some very eloquent op-eds in the school paper about what obama means to him, and how fucked-up all the racist scrutiny really is. joly, musichetta, and bossuet phone bank. eponine starts taking photos at rallies, one of which becomes kind of well-known and helps launch her interest in pursuing photography for real. courfeyrac organizes theatrical productions to raise money for the campaign, which are a weird and wild success. bahorel is a minor social media star, and he leverages his dubious fame to try to help get out the young people vote.

-(eponine is gavroche’s legal guardian, and she balances work with community college. she was honestly more of a hillary girl, but obama wins her over eventually.)

-grantaire and enjolras stayed together post-high school, and after a year of attending a nearby community college, grantaire has the grades to transfer to the same university as enjolras. 

grantire spends most of his early college years bouncing from one major to another; he likes art but more as a release than as an area of academic focus. like, getting a bad grade on an art project is fucking devastating. they start fighting a lot that first september in the same school because enjolras is so sure of his path and grantaire feels guilty and defensive for not knowing where to go with his life. it makes grantaire feel like a worthless burnout again (which is frustrating because he thought he’d WORKED THROUGH IT, dammit), but he also resents enjolras’s attempts to help him, which eventually makes enjolras pull away in hurt, which terrifies grantaire so much that he pulls away too, and they break up very early sophomore year of college.

-the night obama wins the election in ‘08, even despite the blow of prop 8 passing, all the old ABC members are calling each other, yelling into their phones with delight. combeferre is literally crying.enjolras is jubilant, but grantaire, who had never seriously thought that obama had a chance, honestly feels like he’s high again.

enjolras and grantaire wind up at the same celebratory party and, under the influence of all that victory, they hook up. holy shit have they missed each other. they briefly get back together, but it’s not like it was in high school, before they knew quite how badly they could hurt each other. when enjolras does study abroad for a semester, they break up again, amicably, rather than do the long distance thing. they drift apart even when he gets back. it’s nobody’s fault.

-jehan switches to they/them pronouns and puts out a chapbook of poetry about feeling connected to the words of dead authors. bahorel becomes a college radio DJ, and is so good, his show gets picked up by local stations and he eventually starts working as the “bad boy of NPR”. courfeyrac realizes that more than acting, his real joy is stage managing. musichetta goes into business, advocating for greater diversity. 

-grantaire winds up at the last minute, majoring in psychology. studying this stuff in an actual class makes him realize just how dysfunctional his family dynamics have really been, and how little of it had to do with him. it’s both freeing and terrifying. he makes friends in his advanced psych courses (mostly idealistic young feminist women), and dates one for a while. ironically, she’s also bi. he has more of a chance to unpack all the stigma he’s been carrying around for years, how frustrating it was to be seen as “the gay kid” in high school when that wasn’t really true.

-combeferre decides to get dreadlocks after graduating undergrad and becomes “that hot World Lit TA with the dreadlocks”

-grantaire starts kind of considering going into counseling. the members of the ABC he’s still in touch with keep urging him to write Mr. Myriel a letter, and grantaire keeps dragging his feet, but one night he’s in town to visit Eponine, and runs into Mr. Myriel at the grocery store, and basically word-vomits all this gratitude, and the two become penpals. Mr. Myriel eventually writes one of the recommendation letters that gets grantaire into a sociology master’s program.

-combeferre gets fed up with the ivory tower of academia and joins a startup that teaches coding to kids, particularly girls in low-income areas. (He’d long been interested in coding, but more as a fun side hobby.)

-grantaire moves to the city (uh, let’s say chicago) to get his master’s, where he also reconnects with bossuet, who by then is a hippie engineer and just a solid, low-stress friend to have. they become super close in a platonic bros way, and grantaire may actually be the one to say, “oh btw, did you have a crush on joly, or did you guys both just like musichetta?” (answer: YES and YES). grantaire rents a bedroom in bossuet’s apartment (bossuet has more space than anticipated because he just had a rough breakup) and in his starving student days, grantaire pays some of his rent to bossuet by cooking him dinner and stuff. in this time, grantaire actually learns how to cook, beyond just fucking up the occasional frozen pizza.

-kind of to his surprise, grantaire winds up really enjoying counseling (or at least, finding it rewarding; talking to people with such intense problems be rough) and particularly working with youths. they never expect his sense of humor, which turns out to be a pretty useful tool in connecting with them.

-bossuet sometimes, long-distance, donates his time to combeferre’s coding project. grantaire hears through bossuet, through combeferre, that enjolras is moving to chicago for law school.

-at first, grantaire and enjolras are awkward around each other, but the weird thing is, their positions are kind of reversed because grantaire by now feels pretty confident in his role as a counselor, and is doing good work, while enjolras is under a ton of stress in law school and still not always 100% sure it’s the right move. grantaire is living alone by now, and he misses hanging with bossuet (who is in a complex poly triad now, and has a lot less free time) (part of me feels it’d be way too big of a coincidence if it’s joly and musichetta, part of me yearns for it, so you decide for yourself i suppose). so grantaire starts coming over to cook dinner at enjolras’s apartment as enjolras studies. this is partly because grantaire’s own kitchen in his studio is really insufficient, but mostly an excuse for them to hang out in a low-cost, low-pressure way. they eat and watch Parks and Rec.

-in theory this is a great system, and in practice it’s the same kind of agonizing romantic tension from high school. enjolras is really into this more confident, happier, more balanced grantaire. grantaire appreciates that enjolras has gotten  a little less overbearing, a little lighter even as he’s also so clearly fraying at the seams. grantaire just wants to, like, give him a massage, but whoa boundaries. they sit on the same couch and SOMETIMES THEIR ARMS BRUSH.

-enjolras decides first that he wants to get back together, that they’ve grown enough in the time they were apart that they could build something healthy and balanced now. he’s not totally sure how to make his case to grantaire, and he feels a little weird being the less stable one of the pair. 

-enjolras decides that he’s gonna make grantaire dinner. grantaire doesn’t really get why; enjolras generally does the dishes so it’s not like anything’s really owed here??? enjolras slips into way overachiever mode and prepares like a whole three-course spread of painstakingly researched recipes. grantaire is VERY confused. “I thought I was hot shit, dude, where did you learn to cook like this?” enjolras has to shamefacedly confess he taught it to himself for this night. “Damn, are you proposing or something?” grantaire blurts in an ill-considered joke, and enjolras’s ears turn red. they get together again. it’s really good this time.

-in 2013, when the supreme court rules that gay marriage is legal in all 50 states, enjolras actually finds out because grantaire texts him the minute the news breaks with simply, “Holy fuck, you were right all along!!!!!” and then some hearts.

-they’re married a year later. one of their wedding photos is them kissing, both raising a middle finger to the imagined haters, like “bring it on, assholes” you’d think this would’ve been grantaire’s idea, but nope, enjolras. it’s framed over their mantle.

-by november 2016, enjolras is a lawyer for the ACLU, and grantaire is a counselor at an organization that primarily works with LGBTQA youth. after the election, enjolras doesn’t get out of bed all day. then he’s a whirlwind of activity. trump-era enjolras is a hybrid of the wisdom and confidence of obama-era enjolras, and the “fuck these motherfuckers” pinpoint focused ferocity of bush jr-era enjolras. grantaire’s work is frequently draining as hell, but he’s drawing again (making a webcomic with joly, actually), and they’re getting by.

-sometimes, at low moments, they remember how it felt at their wedding reception, when bahorel cued up Ted Leo’s “Shake the Sheets” and all those friends and loved ones danced their brains out (enjolras’s parents have some MOVES as it turns out), and grantaire got super choked up, and then enjolras leaned over while they were dancing and whispered in his ear, “Probably better that he didn’t go with our prom song,” (which, as you’ll remember, is Fifty Cent’s “Candy Shop”) and they both burst out laughing in the middle of the dance floor. If they survived high school, they can survive anything.

-bossuet, grantaire, joly, eponine, musichetta and sometimes enjolras have a long-distance D&D game wherein a ragtag crew of outcasts battles the odds as they attempt to take down an evil totalitarian kingdom. (joly’s already got notes for the graphic novel version.)

[sleepykittypaws]

A Timeless Christmas

Original Air Date: November 15, 2020 (Hallmark) Where to Watch?: Hallmark will replay it multiple times this season, and for every season in perpetuity

If you don't know who director Ron Oliver is, you're missing out on one of Hallmark's most delightful stars. Sure, he's behind the camera, not in front of it, and I guess people like that Ryan Paevey guy, who also made Christmas at the Plaza with Oliver last season, but, seriously, Oliver is a treasure, and I hope Hallmark knows that. From the movie-spanning mythology that is "Kenny Kwon," to just being the gosh darn best, Ron Oliver elevates every project he touches, including A Timeless Christmas, based on the (Hallmark) book by Alexis Stanton. 

Sorry, every-other-Christmas-movie, your director is definitely not this awesome.

Paevey plays Charles Whitley, an early 1900s inventor, who buys his fiancee a Christmas clock, then after repairing and winding it on Christmas Eve, wakes up to find strangers in his house, now a museum, filming him with iPhones.

Despite how jarring all this would be, Paevey's Charles seems pretty non-plussed at all the future tech, laughing at a joke about Internet cat pictures, and figuring out what a cell phone does in seconds flat, despite also being scandalized anyone would wear "dungarees" on a public street.

Erin Cahill's museum docent/Charles Whitley-maid cosplayer also is pretty quick to accept the whole, he's-a-time-traveler bit. Though not quickly enough for Paevey, who asks her at about minute 10 of the movie, “You still don't believe me, do you?” I mean, dude, you just popped into the present about 20 minutes ago, maybe give her a night to sleep on it?

The way Charles convinces Cahill's character, who did her dissertation on Whitley, he's the real guy, is via a secret scar on his hand, and a much less secret space beneath the floorboards where Charles hid a journal in 1903. I mean, seriously, no one has moved that (brand-new looking) rug in over a hundred years? Because that cut out is super obvious. Either Kenny is the worst museum director ever, or a whole slew of Charles Whitley Mansion cleaning staff need to be let go immediately.

Cahill's character repeatedly tells Charles how much the world has changed…All while they proceed to fall in love in a way that would have seemed chaste even for 1903, like decorating a Christmas tree at her parent's house, and going Christmas shopping. Oh, Hallmark, you can even make a time travel romance seem rote.

Then Cahill finally drops the big, incredibly obvious reveal that Charles' 1903 fiancee, Eliza, married his big bad business rival (scandal!) and Charles has to go for a walk in Evergreen (holy shared universe, Batman), a.k.a. Deer Lake Park in Burnaby, B.C., to recover. And, like, seriously, does Hallmark own this place now, because this is at least the third 2020 Hallmark holiday movie it makes an appearance in. Hope they just left the lights up between all the filming.

There, a magical Christmas tree decorator then explains to Charles that, no, his rival was a great guy, actually, even though he stole Charles' mill method (this is never elaborated upon), and he and Eliza lived happily ever after which…OK? Not sure why knowing his wife-to-be moved on with someone he hated would make Charles feel better, but now he doesn't have to feel guilty about falling in love with Cahill, I guess. 

Then Charles walks all the way from Evergreen to Riverdale, to have a bite to eat at Pop's Diner, and re-state the already very exposition-y lesson we'd just learned. That it took Charles longer to grasp the idea of "everyone deserves to be happy" than the concept of time travel is…something. For a genius inventor, Charles is pretty slow on the uptake. 

The whole thing hinges on this missing Christmas clock we see Charles buy at the beginning of the movie and Cahill, whose great-grandmother was Charles' maid Rosie, takes about a decade to discover it in a prominent, free-standing, clear glass case at the university we are supposed to think she's been attending for years or, at the very least, going through a lengthy academia application process at. There's basically a flashing neon sign that says "Christmas clock this way" and Cahill still takes minutes to walk by it, sit in front of it, gaze at it and then, finally, the realization dawns. Beginning to think her potential students dodged a real bullet by her not taking the teaching gig.

Then, instead of wacky clock theft hijinks I was hoping for, Cahill just asks a secretary if she can take it, and the lady says, sure, apparently, because next thing you know it's back in the museum for Christmas Eve and she thinks Charles poofed back to 1903 without a word, except, like, wouldn't the museum cease to exist if he had done that? I mean, if Charles Whitley doesn't disappear mysteriously in 1903, then the house never goes to the town to becomes a museum, and Cahill and all the partygoers would just suddenly be smack dab in the middle of some Whitley descendant’s living room, or a vacant lot, or something. And wouldn’t Cahill’s knowledge of Whitley have changed in her head, if he’d gone back to 1903? Or would she have studied him at all without the mystery? Oof, the more I think about it, the more this movie makes my brain itchy.

But, no, Charles just decides to stay in this unnamed year—everyone is very careful not to mention it's 2020, even when Charles explicitly asks what year it is, very early on—in his perfectly preserved 100-year-old tuxedo. No social security number. No ID. No job or educational history. No money. So they can't get married, he can't get a job or a bank account, or ever travel, and he'll probably be deported by ICE, and the museum shut down for paying its performers in cash under the table, but…Yay, happy ending, I guess? 

This is why, if you’re ever personally involved in a time travel romance, where one of you has to pick an era to live in forever, my advice is always to go back in time, where it’s easier to just blend in without documentation, rather than the future or our present, where everything is computerized. Just be careful not to be too prescient or savvy about things like antibiotics and natural disasters, or they’ll burn you as a witch. (Thanks for coming to my TED talk!)

Actually, in writing this, I think I might have enjoyed this movie less than I thought I did while actually watching it, but did love Nelson Wong, a.k.a. Kenny Kwon, getting the movie's last (sort of) laugh with his, "He's a pretty good Charles Whitley isn't he? You know, I'm the one who found him, right?" As always, Wong’s appearance makes any Oliver joint 47.8% better, and you can’t argue with math.

Final Judgement: 2 Paws Up

[kootenaygoon]

So,

When I first sent off my application for the Nelson Star in April 2014, I was living in a Victoria basement suite with my partner Paisley and our latest pet, a nine-pound Maltese named Muppet that we’d acquired from a small farm on one of the Gulf Islands. My year-long book publishing internship had taught me a lot about the industry, but mostly it had convinced me I wanted to pivot back into journalism as quickly as possible. I felt this insistent desperation to be a reporter again, to be out in the world taking pictures and asking questions, handing out my business card to strangers.

After scrolling through the listings on Jeff Gaulin I sent out a flurry of resumes to papers all over the province and ultimately received multiple offers. When I asked Paisley where she would prefer to live, she instantly chose the Kootenays over our other options — she’d always dreamed of living there, having grown up in Calgary. I knew a little bit about Nelson from working nearby at the Trail Rossland News during the summer of 2010, and I’d even helped the current reporter Cass Barkley land her gig by putting in a good word with the editor, who had since moved on. Cass and I had previously worked together at The Martlet, UVic’s student newspaper, and now that she was leaving her position she worked to return the favour by putting in a good word for me with the new editor, Calvin Miller.

During the weeks I was deliberating, I reflected on where I was at in life. Nearly 30 years old, I’d spent the previous decade perma-bouncing from one location to the next, never staying anywhere for longer than eight months at a time. Though I’d been offered a generous scholarship to complete my Master’s in Journalism at Ryerson, I worried that I was needlessly pushing back adulthood by cowering safe within the confines of academia. Initially our plan was to take the Star position for the summer before heading off to Toronto in September, but immediately upon receiving the job offer I asked myself the following question: why am I going to school for journalism if I can just get a journalism job and do it? 

I believed the old maxim that journalism is like a hangover — you can learn about it and talk about it all you want, but you can’t really understand what it’s like until you experience it for yourself.

Around this time things were a little drastic at home. I’d recently started taking antidepressants under the supervision of a mental health counsellor, Paisley was going through some debilitating health struggles, repeatedly ending up in the hospital, and both of us were vibrating on uncomfortably high frequencies. I felt like we were victims of our stagnant lifestyle and the Star opportunity seemed like the exact thing I needed to jump-start my career and vault into a better, more fulfilling future. I told my Dad before leaving that I knew I’d be working for some rinky dink paper way out in the bottom right-hand corner of B.C., but I was going to pretend like it was The New York Times — and conduct myself accordingly. Paisley and I decided to make it our goal to live there for three years straight, giving us a chance to actually belong somewhere and become part of the community. 

We’d been rootless too long.

It was early May when I loaded my newly acquired RAV with all my possessions. I was expected to start within a few days of receiving the offer, so I left Paisley behind on the island while I drove across the province with Muppet in my passenger seat. I was under-slept and stressed after days of arguing, but I was also convinced this move would be a turning point — it wouldn’t be the first time I’d tried to solve a spiritual problem with a geographic solution. Muppet was antsy, exploring through our piled belongings in the back and yelping when she got stuck, so I stopped along the side of the highway multiple times to let her get her bearings. I’ve always enjoyed taking care of things that are smaller than me, and I tried my best to bring her stress level down, but she was trembling and nervous — kind of like me. 

Cold wind pulled at my clothes. Together we stood at the crest of the hill overlooking Christina Lake, wondering what kind of story was waiting for us at the end of this trip.

That evening we arrived at Cass’ house around dinnertime. She lived on a gentle slope facing Elephant Mountain with her husband Elliot. When I knocked at the front door we heard frantic barking, and when it swung open we were faced with Cass’ yapping puppy Winston. He whined and leaped, basically losing his shit, jumping for attention. Halfway through the entrance he flew up into my face, clawing happily, while Muppet panicked and shrieked. She shredded at my shins until I pulled her up to my chest, squirming, and accepted directions into the closest bedroom. Feeling awkward that I hadn’t properly said hello, I stroked Muppet and held her to my chest until she calmed down a bit — but as soon as I left she threw up and peed on the bed. My poor girl.

As it turned out, Cass had a friend who worked for the local SPCA and lived only a few blocks away. She made a phone call and within half an hour a friendly dude named Rob Andrew sauntered up to the house with a calming lavender spray and a tight “thunder coat” that was supposed to help with anxiety. He spoke to Muppet in a kind, reassuring voice and gave me instructions on how to help her cope. I was stupid grateful, and he didn’t even ask for money. When he left again I told Cass I couldn’t believe that he’d been able to just magically appear like that, and she told me there’s a spirit of helping in the Kootenays that’s unlike anything she’d ever experienced in the big city.

“My car has broken down twice,” she told me. “Both times all I had to do was get out and stand there for a minute or two, and eventually someone stopped to help.”

When Cass left her position at the Nelson Star she was one of the paper’s longest-serving employees, having spent half a decade there. She was a natural journalist, one of the best I’ve ever known, and her mind had become a swirling whirlpool of information. She was a tiny woman with a loud voice, and couldn’t stand bullshitters. She had worked successfully under the former editor Rob Wall but found the latest one, Calvin, to be insufferable — he was a right-wing hockey fan who liked to micro-manage his reporters’ time while she was a strident left-wing feminist who didn’t like being bossed around. Before I even met Calvin I’d already heard lengthy tirades about what a nightmare he was, incompetent and annoying, but she was convinced he would be gone in a matter of months. She said if I could last long enough Calvin would have some sort of breakdown and leave town. According to her, he wasn’t handling the stress well.

“You know how lazy he is?” she asked me. “We had a bank robbery two weeks ago and he couldn’t even be bothered to leave the office to go take a picture or ask a few questions, even though the bank is two blocks away from the office.”

“Like a real, legit bank robbery? In this town?”

“Yeah. It was this couple from Salmo who apparently have a bunch of children. They’ve been leaving the kids with baby-sitters and going out to rob pharmacies, banks, places all over the Kootenays. They hit the currency exchange in town here a while back and the dude actually fired his shotgun, like into the door of the vault.”

“Who caught them?”

“Well, the husband? He was the one doing all the heavy lifting. He took off on a bicycle at first, but then he got into a getaway car and led the police on this high speed pursuit out towards the highway to Castlegar. They had him cornered on this bridge and he jumped off, trying to get away from them.”

“What, into the river?”

“No, there was nothing but rocks beneath him. Apparently he broke both his legs.”

“Crazy.”

“Yeah, they say he threw the bag of money into a tree and it burst open raining bills down everywhere.”

“Holy shit. Were they unemployed or what?”

“Drugs,” she said. “Addiction’s a big thing around here. I think it was meth, or maybe oxy, something like that. They needed to score.”

As Cass drove me all around Nelson, pointing out landmarks and monologuing about stories she’d written over the years, I noticed she had a slightly frenzied vibe, like she was struggling to keep everything ordered in her head. She rattled off names of people I would need to know — John Dooley, the mayor, Tom Thomson, the chamber boss, Michelle Mungall, the MLA — and went on at great length about the many small-town feuds I would need to keep track of. She drove me through the different neighbourhoods (Rosemont, Fairview, Uphill), and filled me in on construction projects and community controversies. We looked at the mural of Roxanne, a Steve Martin movie from the 80s, then swung by the historic fire hall where a bunch of it was filmed. Down by the mall there was a miniature pirate schooner called Obsidian anchored off-shore, and Cass told me when it sunk to the bottom of Kootenay Lake the community raised funds to resurrect it with a crane. There was one large-scale development project called Stores to Shores that ran right through the middle of downtown, there was a municipal election coming up, and she figured I’d end up writing about an ongoing court case around a recently shuttered and then reopened bar called The Royal.

Another thing: I had to keep in mind that there were two polices forces in town, the Nelson Police and the Nelson RCMP, and that they were actually quite different.

“Nobody will tell you this, but there isn’t any budget for traffic enforcement within the city limits,” Cass told me. “The RCMP deal with the highways and the Nelson Police are too busy with everything else to deal with giving out tickets and that sort of thing.”

“What’s the police chief like?” I asked.

“Oh, his name’s Wayne Holland. He came up from Vancouver and he’s real chummy with Dooley. You’ll hear him talk a bunch about mental health, because the cops are spending all their time dealing with street vagrants. That’s what the whole dog bylaw was about.”

I’d heard about the dog bylaw — at one point it made national news. Decades previous the council had banned dogs from downtown in a move designed to rid the sidewalks of buskers and panhandlers. Nelson had caught a lot of flak for it, but it was still on the books, which meant I wasn’t allowed to walk Muppet downtown. Cass had written several stories about it.

“That’s pretty much the biggest controversy in town,”she said. “The conflict between the businesses who want to clean up downtown and all the social justice types who want to help the marginalized and bring in more services, all that.”

Eventually Cass started talking about Paul Hinrichs, a local music promoter who had worked at the Royal before it became entangled in legal disputes. She spoke about him with a saint-like reverence. Now operating out of the Hume Hotel, he was responsible for booking the vast majority of the musical acts coming to town, including big names like Sloan. She had relied on him for arts stories throughout her time at the Star, and considered him to be the most important contact in the arts community. Now that she’d left the paper, she’d picked up some work promoting shows for him.

“You know, I’m not actually that into live music,” I admitted.

“You will be. It’s just contagious. There are so many artists in town, so many musicians, that you can’t help but pick up on the vibe and get into it. And the arts scene is so busy in Nelson you can pretty much be busy every night of the week going to the museum, concerts, literary events — did you hear we just got our own movie theatre?"

“No, that’s amazing.”

“Yeah, it was a community project. It’s independent. That’s unheard of in a town this size. The guy that runs it, Jason Asbell, he gets a pretty good mix of indie films and the big blockbusters. It’s got this old-old-time feel and it’s all paid for by the community.”

“Right on.”

“And then there’s all the music festivals,” she said. “There’s like six or seven of them, but Shambhala is by far the biggest. You can get media passes, if you ask. I find they’re always good for photo spreads.”

I asked her about pot, because I’d heard Nelson was the weed capital of B.C. She wasn’t a smoker, had never been, but she knew plenty about the local industry. Paisley and I had started smoking regularly in Victoria but it was still pre-legalization, which meant we bought from a friendly dude named Papa Andrew rather than from a storefront dispensary. I was excited to experience Nelson’s signature export firsthand.

“It’s funny, it’s always the last person you would guess who run the grow-ops. It’s not the hippie stoners you see in the street, it’s the well-dressed rich people who seem like they would never touch it. And that’s their whole disguise, since they don’t seem like weed people,” she said.

“You’ll find people talk about it differently here. You’re supposed to call it cannabis. Most people talk about it as a medicine, and it doesn’t have the same stigma as on the coast. But then it’s also created this intense class division between the growers and everyone else, this hatred. The big thing is they don’t pay taxes.”

“Right.”

She told me I should be prepared to feel pseudo-famous, working for the Star, because the town was so small and there were only three reporters. She also told me to expect certain people to engage with the newspaper to a scary amount. It was a magnet for kooks.

“This is a town with lots of big personalities, which is another way of saying there’s shitloads of mental illness. You’ll find that the way people dress, the way people talk, the things people do — it’s all stuff you could never get away with anywhere else. But in Nelson there’s the underlying counter-culture, I mean it’s got a lot to do with the black-market weed industry, where people are more open and forgiving of things,” she said.

I knew Cass had struggled with her own mental health in the past, and she also knew about some of my depression and substance abuse issues. We’d pushed each other to extremes while working together at the Martlet, constantly competing with one another for jobs and assignments and attention. We were known for bickering viciously in the newsroom and had even dated for a brief time. But now she was married, and so was I basically, and our lives had quieted as we transitioned from our chaotic twenties into respectable grown-up reporters. I knew Paisley would be suspicious and intolerant of me spending too much time with Cass, but I felt a deep gratitude for how she’d finagled this job for me. She would be my first phone call when I needed to figure something out, my main back-up. As we drove the sunny tree-lined streets I felt a fearful optimism that this would be a turning point, the first page of an epic new chapter in my life.

The Kootenay Goon

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Boku no Hero Academia 22 - 23 | Grimoire of Zero 8 | Royal Tutor 9 | Kado 8 | Tsukigakirei 8

Boku no Hero Academia 22

I never saw that “meteor shower” coming! BnHA keeps the surprises coming, eh?

Hey, he used Uraraka’s name! He’s serious now!!!

I gotta admit Denki and the other hero trying to defend Uraraka only because she’s a girl is an outdated idea (but the patriarchy demands I only get irked about this a bit), but defending Uraraka because she’s almost out of commission is something I can understand.

Oh, the tough realities of herohood…the suckiness of failure…I gotta touch on this more in Half-Paid Heroes. Better pay attention!

It’s kinda clear Shouto vs Izuku is gonna get cut off by the time limit, but it’s interesting to note that there are 2 rivals close to Midoriya. Normally a shonen hero only has one fixed one.

Boku no Hero Academia 23

I’ve seen people comment a tonne on episode 22, so episode 23 should garner a lot of attention too as the highlight of this season.

I always thought by saying Shouto could be a hero, it implied his mother could no longer be one. Why? Possible trigger warning for this, but I think it’s “enduring Endeavour’s abuse”.

The bandage on Uraraka’s face reminds me that BnHA is good at consistency.

Poodle girl, who tried to defend Uraraka last ep, is still in the crowd. Another good touch of consistency.

This is rare – Bakugo’s introspective and showing off why he’s top of the class simultaneously.

Looking at this from a strategy point of view, Deku still has his legs, potentially his head if he wants to risk it, (uninjured) parts of his arms maybe, or overexerting his arms again. If he gets very creative, maybe his torso. It still looks like Todoroki’s going to win nonetheless, even though he seems to be showing some signs of fatigue too.

I thought he’d overexert his arms again, but I guess I never thought of the more logical path, which would be “overexert the fingers again first”, huh?

That threw me for a bit. 1) Todoroki never says “now I’m angry”. He’s the cool guy, to make a lame pun. 2) That’s a cliched line only bad guys say. Then again, it could be a “you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back” moment.

Ice is powerful. So powerful, there aren’t many ice Pokémon, and I originally planned to have an ice-skater be the 6th ranger in Half-Paid Heroes, only to find that since I kept restructuring the lineup, the skater became too OP. (Also, because Half-Paid Heroes used to be a strictly girl-turns-into-magical-boy affair, the 6th ranger - Yuki - was a great big hinge on what came afterwards, so I’ve struggled with the storyline now that I’ve given it a more workplace SoL baseline.)

I always thought ice was also a salve to some extent, but with more destructive power comes a lessened ability to heal.

Todoroki looks like Bakugo now. Guess it can’t be helped, seeing as “explosions” are associated with “fire”.

“Such a doting father.” – I laiughed, because we just found out that’s blasphemy. It’s ironic, to use the proper term.

Block rubble is a sure sign that this is a sakuga fest. Wowee, last time I saw block rubble was ConRevo (as far as I can remember)! Thank you, BONES!

Hmph. Fanservice. If you like Shouto’s fanservice here, you’ll definitely like Free!, but I’m neutral on it. 15 year olds shouldn’t be so muscular…sure, it’s part of a hero’s job to be muscular if they’re physically fit, but fanservice of 15 year olds ain’t my thing, y’know?

Grimoire of Zero 8

I’m of the idea that Albus is a dude for commentary purposes, but I’ve seen lots of comments across the ‘net saying Albus is a girl. It seems this episode will get rid of whatever misconceptions I have about Albus’s gender once and for all.

When the wolf says she is closest to Him, who’s “she” exactly? Sorena? Sorena’s granddaughter?

The wolf is behind the main trio at the end of the OP…!

I get the feeling this stitch-up scene is just for some manservice on the wolf’s part…but at least it holds some revelations for those that don’t want manservice of the muscle kind. (In terms of bishonen, I don’t dig Dragon Ball or Free!-style muscles anyway. *shrugs*)

That is one young grandmother…but dangit, why was the wolf hot as a man???!!! (It’s distracting, and I already have too many husbandos…but he’s only hot when he has his clothes on.)

Wuh…? Just when I decide he’s worth staying for, I find out his name…and it’s Holdem? Like, Texas Holdem?

Sometimes belief is all one needs to fight for a cause, Holdem my previously-handsome man.

Grimoire of Zero is lucky its CGI is only noticeable when the show is paused…

“Who knew he was Sorena’s granddaughter…”

From the pronouns used in the subs, it seems that even the subbers believed Albus was a dude and stuck to their guns even after the explicit revelation.

Royal Tutor 9

Fancy gakurans…if you already have a gakuran lying around, it’s pretty easy to cosplay the princes, I guess.

Why are those guards so excited?

This thing just went all ACCA-shaped. That’s not a bad thing, I’m just saying guns are normally used at the climax of shows like this, like in ACCA.

I think the “I am a grown man” jokes are getting a lil’ old at the business end, but that’s because when I see drama I expect consistent drama.

The camera scene was so ludicrous that I ended up laughing anyway…

As an action writer, that butt-kicking Heine did was perfect (albeit a tad slow). Then again, this show’s specialty is a SoL-style pace and I wouldn’t change that about it.

That trick Ludwig did was basically what Alciel did in Hataraku Maou-sama!, but because it was compressed into a shorter amount of time, it had little to no payoff.

“The stupid-seeming fellow is right.” – I never thought Maximilian seemed stupid…

I noted Fuchs said, “Take me away,” which is a very interesting point.

Well, now we really can’t neglect Heine’s past. Get hyped, Royal Tutor fans!

Kado 8

Shunina’s reading something called Ningen Manzai. According to this website, Ningen Manzai is about a god from space who comes to earth and becomes human…then something about angels and another god. Even if you don’t learn the entire synopsis of Ningen Manzai, the book is very relevant, ain’t it? Also, Shunina’s using his seahorse bookmark from last ep, which is cute.

The discussion on Sansa reminds me of the Porygon incident…

“Hail to Humanity”? So that would mean…the title is actually Ningen Banzai…

It’s Kado Skype, powered by Wam. That…that’s great! We can finally see Wam being put to use around here.

As someone who’s studied IT, I understand Gonno’s words on networks well.

Google Satellite. Yep, it exists.

Kado is unintentionally hilarious sometimes, like the “Dad! Dad!” bit there. The chestnut bit I found vaguely disturbing but that was because Shindo looked like he was gasping for air. For the “Dad! Dad!” bit in particular though, Kado’s gone all Summer Wars and that’s why it’s funny.

These jellyfish are really lifelike…but you get a sad feeling from this “date” scene. As if suddenly the staff finally give us a look into why Saraka is correct…you feel like this is all just an “all according to zaShunina keikaku” thing, and suddenly you see the tower known as humanity was knocked down as soon as Kado came.

So Saraka’s saying…the tale of Kado (the show) is a tragedy? Well, that’s a new take on this whole scenario…hey, wait. So Ward and Gonno (to a lesser extent) are the evil ones here?

Grumpy Gonno…haha.  

Does SETTEN need to learn how to “not be evil”, as per its inspiration’s philosophy? Hmm.

It’s Shunina, on a TV show, like a celebrity. The world is evolving in ways I thought were unimaginable.

Is it possible to watch Sansa because of peer pressure, because Shunina could be seen as a “cool” guy? I wonder…

LOL, so you’re going to get him to talk with drinks? I can’t imagine a drunk Shunina…but I can understand that with drinking culture, it’s probably the right way to go to get closer to someone. (Even if that “someone” is an anisotropic being.) Shunina may not understand “food” after all.

As much as I love the alien dork, he’s getting more and more sinister as the show goes on. From what I’ve read on Kado all over the ‘net, people have distrusted him since episode 1, but hey. That’s what we’re here for.

Shinawa was absent yet again, thank goodness.

The round object in the preview (it looks like a white sphere surrounded by blue chunks) is probably a Nanomishein, knowing this show.

Tsukigakirei 8

Welp, we’re finally back to Dazai after referencing Souseki.

Huh? That part with the dancing guy with the mask has gone from live action to animated…so it seems like the staff of Tsukigakirei give an effort now.

The OP seems to evolve more as time goes by, which is interesting. A few eps ago, the sheet only said “title” but the title of this work that’s evolving is called 13.70. However, it seems to be by Azumi Osamu, and not Kotarou. (Or maybe that’s just a penname of Kotarou’s, based on his love for Dazai?) 13.70 is 75 mai (sheets) long.

Love is hard to describe, and I guess when you love someone it’s hard to put into words because of that.

Is the video going slower or did the animation budget get cut in half?

I’d assume “hayashi” refers to the rice.

So it’s not my imagination…the budget got skimped on! You can tell because they did the same almost still scene thing twice this ep.

Noting how dark the potato is, I’d say it’s sweet potato (purple).

Ahahaha! So that’s where the potato mascot come from. They’re sweet potatoes then…now I get it! (It’s just that when you say “potato” on its lonesome I think of the one you make ordinary chips out of.)

Now that we know Kotarou’s birthday, I know she’s going to buy him a present. That’s what anyone would do…and of course, I was right.

That shot of windchimes from the OP. I like it, but I know it’s recycled from there.

Well, for all the budget skimping they’ve done, they’ve churned out some really good festival shots. They’re so lifelike.

I didn’t think geta were annoying enough to give you blisters. Guess I was wrong.

You’re so stealthy, Akane (sarcastic).

Finally, here are the development we’ve been waiting for. Unfortunately, they’re paired with some really bad off model shots. Fortunately, they bother to give us the first kiss.

The fortune tags both say “I wish to be together forever.” (<-paused specifically to translate before subs came up)…CR tells me I was pretty bang on with my translation.

This ep’s ED convo is just a lovey-dovey couple fighting and saying “I love you more. No, I love you more” sort of thing, so don’t bother.

I got bored of these a few eps back, but since I have time right now, I went, “Why not?”.

Well, as much as I dislike the humour in these, I have to admit the moral in the Aira one was pretty good.

Well, finally Sakura gets some happiness. Good on her.

I don’t think I’ve seen a girl being called ippiki before. Ippiki is normally used with small animals, like dogs or cats.

The Roman and Ryouko (Sensei) ones are the worst of these, I just can’t ship them because the age gap is about 10 years. That’s a little too big for comfort, y’know?

That “Kotarou’s Parents” one actually made me laugh. It’s also a good insight into characters that don’t get developed much in the series. If I were an author (which I am, I just haven’t got any properly published books out there yet – the closest book I do have out there has no words…*hides in corner of shame*), I would have bonus content more along these lines.