#it’s a hydrangea you moron will never not be funny

[chunkypossum]

ajisai flowers denotes family bonds, undying friendships, and lasting love

[thescrapbookingscientist]

Biweekly Media Roundup

- Puss In Boots: The Last Wish (Movie) - Was blown away by how good this movie was. I’ve never even seen the first film but the buzz around this one convinced me to watch it and wow everyone was right. The art direction is fantastic, the whole movie looks stunning, the character designs (Especially the Wolf holy crap) work so well, it’s surprisingly dark in it’s humor, the Forest changing it’s structure based on the person is such a cool concept, and finally the themes of accepting your mortality and living a life well spent by throwing away your pride and letting yourself truly know and be known by others is insanely well done for it’s run time and PG status. There are of course things to nitpick about, for example I liked Goldi and the Bears but wish her wish would have been revealed earlier in the story so we could sit with it a bit, but overall this was way better than it had any right to be and definitely is something I’ll be watching again, possible even later this week. 

- Buddy Daddies (Anime) - Buddy Daddies is still solid, recent episode had some great animated hydrangea shots. 

- The Vampire Dies In No Time (Anime) - Getting to see some backstory for the leads is fun, baby Drac is cute and Ronaldo’s older brother is pretty funny, I would love to specifically see him and Drac interact in the future given how amused Drac is by his obvious bullshitting. And as always John is best boy.

- Ranking of Kings (Anime) - Love Queen Hilling for subverting the cruel stepmother trope, She’s a certified MILF and objectively the best parent in the show.

- Gintama (Anime) - We haven’t really even scratched the surface yet at anime night but I’m starting to remember just how insane this series gets the farther you get in. Looking forward to hundreds of episodes of incomprehensible nonsense (said affectionately). 

- Welcome to Demon School! (Anime) - While there were some moments I liked, I’m glad we are finally done with the Harvest Festival arc, as it was one of my least favorite for the series. But hey, it’s over and we got to spend more time with the teachers which is nice, Balam is super wholesome and Kalego is hilarious, and hey also Kirio is back, he’s always fun in a “jesus christ bro wtf” kind of way. 

- Love Is War (Anime) - Wholesome shenanigans starring a cast of lovable morons is clearly my favorite genre, so no surprise that I’m still greatly enjoying this. Miko’s a good addition to the cast, she reminds me of my fave Danganronpa boy Ishimaru and has a fun antagonistic relationship with Ishigami. 

- The S Classes That I Raised (Webcomic) - Not much to say, looking forward to see how the government worker S class and Baby dragon man will inevitably be won over by Han Yoojin’s overpowering mom energy. 

- Persona 5 Royal (Video Game) - I’m over 100 hours into this game, I think about it constantly, it’s taken over my life. I feel like that ProZD skit where he keeps thinking “I could be playing Pokemon right now” no matter what he does, but with Persona. Help me.

Listening to: Persona 5 OST, Fear & Delight by The Correspondents, EPIC: The Troy Saga OST, Happier Than Ever cover by Loveless, Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish, Anti-Hero and New Romantics by Taylor Swift, Fight for Me by AlicebanD, New Rules by Dua Lipa, Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones, Curses by The Crane Wives, Under My Skin by Jukebox The Ghost, Encanto OST

[sararaiden]

Redamancy

A post-canon gintsu fanfic. All the flower talk references the Hanahaki disease (since this is a tie-in of an okikagu multichap that had the Hanahaki as a plot device). AO3 link.

It takes them some time to decipher who is the early riser, and in all honesty, it depends on many things. It has to do with the long nights at the pachinko parlor getting more and more sporadic until they are only an excuse for Hasegawa to unwind from his job, in which Gintoki obliges because that’s what friends are for.

Tsukuyo still has to bail him on those nights.

Or maybe it has to do with him drinking less and less alone since it will be a shame to waste the sake Hijikata gives her. So, she pours it for him, and it becomes a sacred ritual at dusk instead of a way to drown his sorrows. Or, perhaps, this is about his empty house and how he was drawn to her, desperate to have an excuse to quell his screams at night now that Kagura was gone. In the end, he stays at her place for weeks, even if that meant fewer hours of sleep because he has to drive back to Kabukicho.

(Until Kondo started coming too and then he had an excuse to freeload on the police’s gasoline and sleep some more on the way back).

Perhaps that will change now that his daughter is back. He realizes that he hadn’t taken her to his house as much as he had liked while he could —because Kagura is still his little girl and she doesn’t need to know how much he wants to ravish Tsukuyo on his desk. Then, he remembers her tired face and her beautiful laugh at Otose’s all those nights they spent at Kabukicho just to be there, only for them to return to Yoshiwara, sometimes drunk and stumbling, sometimes sober and embracing each other in the quiet of the dawn, and he supposes that is enough for the time being. They can’t know who the early riser is when they don’t even take off the day’s clothes before going to sleep and get up because one of them managed to kick the other.

They can’t know it either when Tsukuyo takes those crazy shifts, sometimes at night, sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes by day. He has spent months playing pachinko with this: will she be at his side when he wakes up? Will she even come? Their sleeping schedule is so messed up and so unnatural they don’t even bother trying to learn the other’s pattern. Whenever they remain awake plagued by their thoughts doesn’t count either as getting up for they didn’t even get to sleep. It is like this that the fact remains clouded in mystery, much to Hinowa’s chagrin.

It is, indeed, a mixture of a gazillion of circumstances. But one thing is for sure: it reveals itself when he doesn’t waste away his nights in solitude, when the life outside his futon beckons him with all its colors —even if Kagura is away, and the day Tsukuyo starts loosening on the workload she puts on her back and fits herself into his routine too.

Gintoki is the early riser. For one thing is sure: saving cats from trees is less tiring than beating the ever-loving shit out of some thug. If only she knew how good she looks when her palm sends the head of the idiot in case bobbling backward…

Yes, Gintoki follows her sometimes, like a stupid Gorilla stalker.

(Oh, how low the mighty have fallen).

Not because she needs saving, but because he’s bored, and Tsukuyo and her girls know how to put on a spectacle. And still, whatever she is capable of doing in the field stands no chance against what she does to him with her mere presence, the slow rise and fall of her chest, and the sunrays painting gold her hair.

He is glad he gets up earlier than her. With this Gintoki can steal a few moments from her day and not feel guilty about it. He can steal her from Yoshiwara’s claws; the Red District is lucky he still has some shame. Gintoki doesn’t pretend —could never, in fact, know what she thinks but he is aware of this much: Tsukuyo still shares him with everyone who needs him. She’s that selfless.

He, on the other hand, wants to steal her from Paradise. Shame and the utter respect he has for her are stopping him from doing so.

His hand brushes against her forehead, pulling her fringe away to reveal the scar. The marred tissue never made her ugly, but he had a hard time trying to grasp the meaning behind it, just to realize later that she was far braver than him. It is easy to throw yourself into the pits of danger, wishing that maybe your life would end gloriously. It isn’t so easy, however, to cast a part of yourself away for the sake of duty.

It is beautiful, that with her he doesn’t want to fall to pieces, not anymore, and that with him, she can be whole again.

“Creep.” Her voice is hoarse, a blend of the tobacco and the morning sleepiness. She raises her hand from under the covers and grabs him by the wrist. Gintoki just smiles, lazy and unapologetic. “Don’t tell me ya haven’t slept, Gintoki.” There’s a veiled threat in her words yet she loosens her grip and drawls her fingers across the calloused skin of his hand’s palm.

Taking the route of the playful banter is second nature to him, just like kicking asses —his included, is to her. “You didn’t let me, you Terminator, remember?” He slides his fingers between hers and encloses her hand in his, like a predator. He feels the ring biting into his skin; it’s so cold, just like her. Or, to be more precise, how she wanted to be, just that he didn’t let her, and now here they are. Tsukuyo has that sweet expression of complete shame plastered across her face. “Poor Gin-san works his ass off and instead of letting him rest you decide to mounfhgth!”

He licks her hand, but it's futile; she acts like a maiden but she’s hardly disgusted by the actions themselves, just at the mention of them. “Ya are one boastful moron.” She releases his mouth from its confinement and makes a face when a sunray hits her right in the eyes.

Next thing she is snuggling against his chest. It’s dark in there, just what she needs.

“I’m just proud of your stamina.” She sneaks an arm around him and smacks him in the head. “Watch it, Tsukuyo.”

“Ya watch it, Gintoki,” she grumbles against his skin, tickling him. Her lips linger a little above one of his scars, never touching him. For all the “reject womanhood” discourse she loved to throw at him back in the day, she is a courtesan at heart and knows exactly how to silence him.

(He finds it poetic, how after spending a lifetime howling at the heavens, he has finally reached them).

So, he remains silent. The only sound that fills the room is the ruffling of the sheets when he caresses her back and the distant call of a new day several stories down from where her quarters are. He ought to thank Kagura for giving Tsukuyo a mini-vacation to compensate for the ruined free day spent with Hijikata and Sofa-kun.

“Say, do you have a favorite flower?”

It is a strange question. It didn’t rob him of his sleep last night, but he figured he had never asked her. With all the drama surrounding the police captain —and Kagura, but he isn’t thinking about that right now nor does he want to, he thought about the maple leaves of her kimono.

Her voice comes out muffled by his chest. “I hate the cherry blossoms.” He knows. He’s the only one that knows.

“I asked for a favorite one, tho.”

They remain in silence again. She doesn’t get it, why it’s so important, but like many other things, she indulges him. Tsukuyo’s hums almost make him drift back to sleep, until her voice, now clear, stops him from going too far. She has one elbow on the pillow and her hand lazily supporting her head. He feels triumphant, for some reason.

“I don’t know why are we having pillow talk about flowers…” she seems to be mesmerized by how their hands are still interweaved, “but I like those that grow by the riverbank.” She scowls a bit, to which Gintoki brings his lips to her brow. “The ones that are fluffy and with many colors.” He leaves there a chaste kiss, coaxing her to relax. There’s no need for her to get stressed for not knowing how they are called.

“The hydrangeas, aha.” He recoils in time to catch the suspicious glare she regales him.

“I didn’t take ya for a flower enthusiast, Gintoki.”

He isn’t. It’s just that some memories can’t be purged, nor does he want to. It’s funny those are her favorite ones, or at least, the ones she likes the most.

“I’ve lived ten years with Otose.” That in itself, isn’t an answer. Even so, she doesn’t need one. She had let go of his hand and now is combing through his perm with lazy strokes. “They grow on her husband’s grave.” Her movements do not falter. “And we had them by the fence at the temple school, too.” She doesn’t still, doesn’t look at him with pity, doesn’t even look him in the eyes. She lets him bare himself while she continues to mess his hair.

Truth is, she made a mess out of him a long time ago, when Yoshiwara was as dark as his life before the kids came into it.

“Yoshiwara needs a bit of green,” she comments casually. Tsukuyo drops her hand and turns away, reaching for her pipe, and Gintoki pretends he didn’t see her soft smile. She sits up and takes his yukata, draping it over her shoulders. Her fingers lighten the kiseru with grace. “We can plant them in the main avenue.” The tobacco smoke fills the room almost immediately. He doesn’t care anymore. “And then you can plant the ones you like.”

Always the tsundere, avoiding asking the real questions.

He stretches, and circles her waist, his hands resting on her thighs and his chin on her shoulder. He follows the swirly pattern of the cloth, thinking.

“I can’t plant maple leaves, Tsukuyo.”