Hey Bree! Quick question for you: in one of your podcast episodes, you mention a little cleaning rhyme that starts with “out, out dirt and dust” and my garbage adhd brain can neither remember the rest nor which episode it’s from. Help?
Never fear! My penchant for archiving will help!
The cleaning rhyme is from Hex Positive, Ep. 037 - Cleaning, Cleansing, and Magical Germophobia (August 2023). It's a little something I occasionally mutter while using general household cleaning as a vehicle for cleansing magic, and it runs thus:
Out out, dirt and dust
Out out, mold and must
Gone you be at count of three
And take my ills away with thee
I read tags! ;-) In honor of it being an absolutely dreary rainy day here, maybe some rainy day or stormy weather Nalu?
Bless you! You may be the only one who did - or at least cared! As promised, a drabble: (854 words) Nalu, Stormy weather Nalu ~ ‘He’s Got the Whole World in His Arms’
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Natsu threw his arms up in the air and released his grip, scattering his fistful of cards all across the floor. “Ughh! How can you be good at every rotten game? First, you kicked my ass with board games, and now you hand my ass to me with poker!”
Supremely smug, Lucy didn’t bother hiding her smirk. “You know, I told you before, my nickname was Lucky Lucy, yeah?” She leaned forward to take a handful of popcorn from the big bowl sitting on the coffee table, yanking it away as Natsu went to help himself. Lucy shook her head. “Nope. None for you until you pick up the cards.”
“Fine.” Natsu knelt and swept a few cards into his hands, stacking them neatly, moved over a bit, cleared that area and kept going. He was absorbed into his task but flinched at a sudden crack of lightning. It was so strong it rattled the empty beer bottles on the coffee table - and Natsu flung the cards he’d just cleared. “Dammit!”
“Oh, that’s too funny!” Lucy pointed and laughed at Natsu. “Scared of a little bad weather?”
This morning had been sunny - but in the afternoon, dark and dreary clouds had covered all Magnolia.
Natsu huffed; standing upright, he turned to Lucy, his hands on his hips. He sneered. The windows rattled at a giant gust of wind and the rain that had been pelting down seconds ago began to hammer even harder. Natsu shivered.
“Are you okay?” Lucy rushed over and hugged Natsu without thinking twice. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have laughed, I know you’ve been jumpy because of -”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Natsu pouted, crossing his arms.
Lucy felt bad for almost bringing up exactly why her partner was currently scared shitless of storms. Or, more accurately, scared of lightning. Laxus had been playing nicer with his guildmates but was still, at times, unpredictable. Who was she kidding? Laxus was Laxus. And Natsu was Natsu - he lived for pushing boundaries.
”I’m sorry.“ Lucy patted Natsu’s back. She let her fingers drift into his spiky crown of hair, pushing so that he rested his face into the crook of her neck. "It’s not your fault…” Her fingertips massaged his scalp in small circles. “It’s okay.”
“Oh Luce, it’s better than okay.”
“What?”
Natsu nestled deeper into Lucy’s embrace even as she removed her fingers from his hair. His voice a bit muffled, admitted, “I said, it’s better than okay.”
“I mean, what do you mean? Better than okay?” Lucy pushed half-heartedly against Natsu. The man was warm after all - no point in getting too far away from such comforting heat.
“Um…” Natsu licked his lips and looked imploringly at Lucy. “I’m okay with you holding me?”
“Why am I a little creeped out?”
“Dunno, but if you said weirded out, then I’d know why.” Natsu had the audacity to smile. “Ain’t nobody weirder than you, Lucy.” He said it like a compliment.
“Don’t confuse me.” Lucy stared into Natsu’s dark eyes. “Why would you say you’re better than okay? I know Laxus shocked the crap out of you this morning. So why are you telling me you’re fine?”
“Fine?” Natsu let fire leap and dance in his eyes. “How can you forget so easily? I said I’m better than okay and that’s the truth.”
“Laxus hurt you, I know he did.” Lucy sighed.
“I’ve forgotten all about that.” Natsu smiled. “Why wouldn’t I feel better than okay when you’re in my arms? You’re my whole world.”
“W-w-what?!”
“Lucy! You know.” Natsu edged closer. “The bad weather outside can’t compete with an armful of sunshine.”
“Sunshine? Me? What?” Part of Lucy wanted to cry at her failure at words. She was a writer and this was the best she could speak? Fuck. The other part of herself was seriously jonesing for more bodily contact with Natsu. “What do you mean?”
“You’re the actual wordsmith.” Natsu shook his head. “Imma have to go with action.” He cupped Lucy’s cheeks, the light in his eyes roiling with heat. “Remember, you asked for this.” Natsu moved closer inch by inch, his lips brushing lightly and then roughly overtop Lucy’s. He gasped as she opened her mouth, rushing to claim this new space with his tongue. Natsu keened deep in the back of this throat.
Chests heaving, both Natsu and Lucy separated. Blazing green met honeyed brown.
“That was pretty good.” Lucy shivered and hugged her upper arms. “Not bad even.”
Lighting cracked, the glare illuminating the curtains over the windows. Natsu was able to ignore the wrath of the storm and held out his arms to Lucy. “Not bad? I’ve got my work cut out for me, don’t I?”
Lucy considered her options, an earthy smile crossing her lips. “Slightly better than okay.”
“Challenge accepted.” Natsu embraced Lucy and kissed her into mindlessness as the storm raged to new heights - neither of them noticing as it eventually moved away. After all, who could notice such a petty thing when they held their entire world in their arms?
... number 7 again... hmmm... is this a hint to start writing at a different time? Like when the sun is *up*? ;)
18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? I have never abandoned a WIP, that I can recall. However, I may have to abandon “The Dragon and the Kitsune”, which offers my [Ikesen] Masamune- and Mitsuhide-POV insights into Masamune’s route. I really like that story, and fully planned to continue it, but with Mitsuhide’s route launching relatively shortly, I’m not sure it will happen. Though if canon Mitsuhide is reasonably close to my headcanon Mitsuhide, I’ll probably get back to it some day.
19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?
YES. Most of them. I’m really terrible for getting interested in my own stories and character headcanons... But on a more practical level, here are some I’d *really* like to write more for (and possibly/probably will):
“Chaos Theory” (Ikesen, Sasuke)- sure, they got together, but I always planned to write the next part- I love the “Mitsuhide inner voice” I gave MC in this story, it cracks me up, even though I know it’s lame to laugh at my own jokes- fortunately, Sasuke’s route (which came out some time after the original chapters) was surprisingly consistent with what I wrote, so I don’t feel strange continuing my own take on things [I always felt there was a good chance that Mitsuhide would catch Sasuke, and wanted to write about that idea]
“Prices to Pay” (Hakuoki, Hijikata)- this story managed to drag in both real life Japanese-Ainu (indigenous peoples) politics of the Meiji era (not substantially changed until 2016 tbh) *and* Oni magic and distant history; it needs more attention!
“Impurely Political” (Ikesen, Masamune)- I really enjoyed writing this story, and capturing both the canonesque Masa-MC relationship and the Sengoku political scene (at Masamune’s personal level); it would be fun to write some slice of life sequel chapters (or just a sequel)
“The Ghost” and subsequent chapters (Hakuouki, Saito x Chizuru)- in a quiet way (suitable to the protagonists), this fic turned into one of my more popular long-running stories; I wanted to capture the true heartache of war, away from some of the otome “niceness”, but I also wanted to preserve the essential sweetness of Saito and Chizuru’s relationship (okay, and they’re my OTP so why wouldn’t I want to write about them)- anyway, I want to write a “once they reached Edo/Tokyo” sequel to this story, and I probably will [besides, I enjoy researching the historical post-Shinsengumi background, while writing the characters close to canon]
[ORIGINAL FULL ART HERE] [thank you @cleomigadon !]
“Gajeel of the Shinsengumi” (Fairy Tail x Shinsengumi x Fae, Gajeel x Levy)- I had hinted about the backstories of several other characters in this Edo-era Fairy Tail AU, plus there was a whole major arc yet to write, potentially, about retaking Fairy Tail “guild”- I hope I get to this, because Fae Fairy Tail was really cool (er, I suppose that’s not very modest... but I personally *liked* and was proud of this story)
“I Will Find You” (Hakuouki, Kazama x Chizuru; ref to Hijikata)- one of my most popular stories, for some reason (KazaChi stories are comparatively rare, and shippers are few(ish) in number, but fervent about their ship?) (plus, smut in part 2, always a seller)- it is implied that there will be a sequel, or at least a “homecoming” epilogue- this one is up in the air, since I don’t personally ship KazaChi; that said, I enjoy writing for others, and I enjoy pushing my writing comfort zone; also *Oni*
Those are the ones that come to mind immediately. There is something about my writing style that seems to beg for sequels. (*cough* lack of outline *cough* too many plot ideas *cough* too many characters / concepts *coughs*). But it’s not as though I don’t *finish* my stories! All of these stories are (technically) finished, stand-alone stories that provide resolution of the key issue/mystery.
Hmmmmm, I’m not really sure. I guess one thing a lot of people outside of some of my friends is that I can be nurturing. I joke with @miss-zei sometimes that I’m her mom friend.
Raphael - Favourite food?
Right now I’m gonna say the food my local hibachi place serves. It’s one of my favorite places to eat, and I crave it even more so now that it’s even harder to get. I need it, but it’s so expensive. Not to mention, I’m not sure if they’re doing takeout.
Thanks! This was fun, even though it’s made me hungry. lol
tabby: do you have any weird/hidden/obscure talents?
I saw this on the list and I was like, hmm. After thinking about it, not particularly. Unless you count baffling medical professionals by existing. Most of my skills are fairly ordinary, and I learned them the same way as everyone else - no hidden genius here.
paw: what movie could you watch 1000 times and not get bored of?
Pairings: Established Kondo/HijikataRating: MSummary: The best part of traveling for business is coming home. Modern AU. [AO3] Thank you to @hakuyamazakisensei for the initial beta~
.*Terms of Endearment*.
“Getting to travel for work! How lucky!”
Bullet train, local train, and then the pointed taps of a brisk gait—of freshly shined shoes hurrying over pavement scorched by late afternoon sun. The stale July air was anything but suit and tie weather, and perhaps slowing down would have been prudent to benefit his comfort…however, a little extra sweat was worth it if it made Kondo’s arrival any sooner.
Despite his already heightened efforts, the anticipation brimming within him could barely contain itself as it was, and nothing short of a full-on sprint would satisfy the pressing urge to move faster and faster yet. Or, as fast as his bulky shoulder bag would permit him, in any case.
“Seeing so many different places, meeting so many different people. Do you know how great that is?”
Desire and need, necessity to throw his arms around the most valuable treasure and hold tight…to feel himself held back and clung to just as ardently after all this time… These were the impulses that drove him, were what had Kondo Isami pounding the sidewalk hard while decked head to toe in professional attire.
A briefcase rocked in the grip of his left hand and keys already drawn from a breast pocket clamored in his right, all as he laser focused on powering his way through the oppressive swelter. It didn’t matter how ridiculous he looked to anyone else dressed appropriately down and drifting lazily about their Saturday with uchiwa¹ and cool packs. Kondo had long been past giving thought to the generic critical gaze of society, especially when there were more pressing matters vying for his attention.
“Oh, and eating all kinds of new things, too. Psht, how nice it must be.”
He was thirty years old, after all—thirty and already entitled fourth successor of the Tennen Rishin-Ryu. Thirty and leader of a fighting style he could now call his own, one that had erred on the edge of struggle but began flourishing anew after transfer to his name. It was because he was thirty and trekking all over the country to aggressively spread renown, to secure its position and vitality for the next heir and hopefully even the one after.
Indeed, Kondo was only thirty and yet felt he’d traveled enough to satisfy the rest of his life at this point, if he had any say in the matter. Alas, none he had, as it was crucial to answer that beckon of responsibility which ensured the livelihood he’d made for not just himself. It was no longer about only his future but theirs, and there could be no greater duty to fulfill than safeguarding that.
…Even if it meant frequent trips and cold hotel beds and meals eaten with those of a much lesser quality of company.
“I wish I could just take off like that…”
So, frequent travel it was. Of course, he dreaded it—dreaded that last hug and the small kiss which always followed. Dreaded the be carefuls and see you soons. But for every difficult parting, there was a return that much sweeter awaiting him. Absence only put in perspective what he was missing when he went without, and made him infinitely appreciate what he had when it was back in his clutches.
It was sensible, therefore, to rush even under such uncomfortable conditions—quirked eyebrows and pensive stares be damned. For the sooner Kondo’s arrival, the sooner he could embrace everything that mattered most, and hold it like he’d never have to let it go again.
“…get away from my family without any questions asked…”
At last, Kondo veered about a corner, the soles of his shoes skidding along concrete as he came face-to-face with the sight for which he’d so vehemently yearned: Makoto Heights. Sleek and minimalist, the apartment building stood ten stories high with an entryway of heavy charcoal double doors embellished by diamond-shaped windows. There was no time to spare for appreciating pleasant architectural design choices, however; he bounded through the entrance with reckless abandon, heaving heavy breaths into his lungs while punching in his entry code and sending the automatic door sliding aside.
“…have my own adventures without all the annoyance and hassle…“
Naturally, the elevator was parked at the top floor. Kondo jabbed the call button, the keys in his hand jingling with restlessness while his heart pounded its ribbed prison. Shoulders rose and fell. His foot began to tap.
“…do whatever, or heh, whoever I want, y’know? No consequences.”
Just standing around, even for a few seconds, was a challenge. He dabbed at the beaded moisture on his forehead and then glanced at his watch. It had all turned insufferable by now: the need for patience he didn’t have, the rise in sheer excitement, and oh, the exhaustive heat made so much worse in this enclosed space with no moving air.
Still panting, Kondo flicked the tip of his nose and his focus shot to the staircase in temptation. Just as he started considering if a marathon climb would be quicker, the pleasant chime rang out with the elevator’s arrival: an invitation he eagerly accepted.
His pointer finger depressed the fourth floor button—and thrice thereafter for good measure. And when the doors closed in again and Kondo’s reflection came into view, he was rudely reminded of what unfortunate consequences racing around on foot this time of the year could have on one’s appearance.
The neat look he’d fixed this morning had gone rogue in some places, disheveled locks betraying the commanding rule of all that meticulously applied styling wax. Kondo lifted his chin and gave his head a shake, then quickly ran fingers over his hair to fix what he could. Surely, he’d looked better, when his face wasn’t red from exertion and his appearance not unkempt from an impromptu workout.
But it had all been worth it.
Because it was never about sight-seeing or meeting new people…
The chime rang, the doors split. With his heart beginning to hammer again, Kondo nearly tripped over his own feet while making for the left, toward the numbers 401 written in dainty silver font.
…It’d never been about trying new dishes or having so-called freedom he didn’t even want in the first place…
Key into the keyhole, a fast turn, and once the door was sent flying open, Kondo’s breath caught in his throat.
Natural light permeated gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, flooded the inner spaces with an ethereal softness that left everything within glowing and glinting and warm. And there, in the middle of it all—Hijikata! Stupefied and rendered frozen, he stood with a clipped manuscript in hand and wide eyes fixed toward the entrance.
“…Kat-chan?!” The exclamation was breathless as the stack of papers he’d been narrating from fell limp, curling over backward from the top edge.
“Toshi!”
Luggage crashed to dark floorboards just beyond the genkan² and the keyring flew haphazardly atop the slipper nook, while Kondo’s legs nearly entangled from the haste with which he stumbled out of his shoes. Etiquette and conventionality meant nothing up against the urgency of needing purchase—to finally, finally pull Hijikata into his long bereft embrace and feel him, smell him, hold him.
Pages of writing fluttered free through the air, cast off as though they were meaningless, as Kondo sprang over the threshold with his hands held out. Their bodies collided and his arms snapped tightly around Hijikata, hauling him forward and squeezing as tightly as permitted without causing pain.
Kondo took fistfuls of shirt, clenching the material while feeling himself enveloped in turn with mirroring strength, then nosed his way into sleek black hair to inhale. The scent he loved most inundated him so that his knees nearly gave way, overwhelmed by waves of satisfaction and gratitude and relief battering him and making him cling even further.
“Kat-chan.” His name was muffled into his suit jacket, and though it’d been spoken in that ever soft and baritone voice so distinctly Hijikata, Kondo felt the unadulterated emotion it rode out on thrumming along the fabric of his soul.
Distantly, he became aware that he might have been holding with too much strength. Kondo clenched the shirt once more before releasing it and relocating his grasp to smaller shoulders, pushing back just enough to free up space for their lips to crash together.
The instant of connection was demanding and insistent, fueled by the racing of Kondo’s pulse and every ounce of insufferable buildup burning this perfect moment into the depths of his memory. Palms rose to cradle Hijikata’s cheeks, thumbs pressing gently beneath closed eyes as their mouths broke contact and immediately met again, over and over in a dizzying torrent of desire and exhilaration–until Kondo’s lungs starved and he was forced to breathe.
He gasped upon drawing back, his forehead immediately pushing unto Hijikata’s as he was unwilling to forfeit such closeness, while fingertips flexed and intertwined with locks of chin-length hair.
Hijikata’s exhalations fell with matching intensity and his hands rose to clamp onto Kondo’s forearms. “Wow.” He huffed through a gentle smile. “Welcome home.”
Kondo laughed once, just as softly and with a twinge of mortification for his lacking in self control. “…I’m home.”
The corners of Hijikata’s lips pulled a little further outward into his cheeks, his eyes managing to grow even more tender. “And early at that.”
Letting his lashes fall, Kondo nodded and couldn’t prevent his own grin from widening as well. “I, uh.” He chuckled. “I skipped out a little prematurely.”
A snort. “I’m sure Ito-sensei was thrilled.”
“He’ll get over it.”
Hijikata returned the next kiss bestowed upon him, shorter and more disciplined this time—and with eyes remaining open. When their mouths parted, his brow suddenly furrowed then and he pulled back with a squint. “Wait. Did—did you run here?”
Heat of a different kind flashed across Kondo’s face and his eyes shifted to the left before finding Hijikata’s again. “…Maybe.”
“Kat-chan! It’s the hottest day of the year yet!” Hijikata released Kondo’s arms, his nimble digits set to unfastening the suit jacket and shoving it off his shoulders. The escape of pent up heat felt heavenly as Kondo shook himself free, not particularly caring where the garment ended up while he began loosening his tie. “No wonder you’re all flushed.”
“And here I was thinking that was your fault.”
“Taku³…” Ah, the sound of vexation laced with fondness—so typically Hijikata and how Kondo loved it. Through rims of dark lashes, he peered at him with adoration, which resulted in an epiphany of his own.
“Speaking of clothing…” Kondo pressed his fingertips to the light blue shirt Hijikata wore and took hold of the unbuttoned edges; he ran his hands down each side, then pulled gently at the bottom hem. “This isn’t yours, Toshi-san.”
Blush threatened to creep across Hijikata’s cheeks. His brows pulled in and he tossed his face aside. “It was…convenient.”
“Ahuh.” Exhaling through his nose, Kondo’s brows raised with a knowing smirk. “It looks good on you, even if it’s a little big.”
“…Well, there’s no use standing around at the door,” Hijikata declared in an airy tone, and Kondo had to bite his lip to not laugh—or abuse his power of so easily flustering a generally unflustered man. Reaching for Kondo’s fingers and entwining them with his own, Hijikata gave a squeeze before releasing them and stepping off to the side.
He heaved the shoulder bag up, swatting at Kondo when he tried to take it, and then set off across the apartment. “I wish you would’ve told me you were coming in early, though. I wanted to meet you at the station.”
Kondo followed in his footsteps, stopping short in the living space as Hijikata disappeared through an open door across the way. “Not feeling the element of surprise, Toshi?” It was a jovial inquiry, posed as he began collecting the papers that had been scattered over the floor. “I knew you’d be busy with writing so—”
Hijikata scoffed from the bedroom and called out, “Please.”
Shuffling through the pages, Kondo’s eyes lifted as Hijikata reemerged. “How’s it going? Progress, or…?”
“Heh. How’s it going?” Hijikata reiterated over a breath. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in discontent and reaching for the stack, he rifled a thumb through it. “It’s not.”
“Ah.” Kondo slouched his shoulders. “Writing is hard.”
“At this rate, this novel is never getting done.” With an aloof shrug, Hijikata clipped the manuscript back together, despite still being out of order, and let it flop on the glass coffee table. His palm rose to press to his forehead and then stroked back through his hair. “Yet another WIP on the pile, I guess.”
Kondo’s lips pursed in a sympathetic pout and he closed the space between them, extending a hand to stroke along Hijikata’s cheek and then pulling him into another embrace. “Ne…” he exhaled, his lips close to an ear. “How about this? I’m gonna shower and then cook dinner for you. And you can tell me all about what you’re stuck on.”
Hijikata’s spine straightened and he lifted his eyes to find Kondo’s. “How the hell is that fair?” he protested, his voice managing to sound both soft and agitated at once. “You were traveling all day. Why should you have to cook?”
Letting his lashes fall for a beat, Kondo shook his head as a tiny grin twitched at his lips. “Toshi-san, you misunderstand.” He gave a squeeze to his hips. “It’s not a matter of having to but wanting to.”
Hijikata’s brows pulled inward, studying Kondo in minor vexation…and at last, he relented with a nod. “Fine. As long as I help, then.”
“Deal.”
A beat. “And shower with you.”
Kondo lifted his chin, openly wearing his interest. “I’m liking these terms. Anything else?”
“Cht.” Knuckles hit softly against Kondo’s chest and Hijikata groused, “Shut up.” Their lips met in one more brief kiss as fingers entwined yet again, and hand-in-hand, they made a beeline for the shower room.
And though Kondo was fully present in the present itself, his mind revisited that conversation from last night, if only for a moment.
“It’s just that my dojo is so busy that sensei never allows me to leave for long. I’m stuck in one place forever,” Katsura had said at the networking dinner, red-faced and with sake cup raised. “Yes. You guys who get to traipse around in the name of business…” His eyes had drifted to Kondo and Saigo, to Ito and Sakamoto. “You really have all the luck.”
While Kondo undid the intricacies of Hijikata’s attire…while Hijikata undid the intricacies of his own, he had to acknowledge just indeed how lucky he was—not because of the reasons Katsura had cited, but because he could always come home to this.
“You’re smiling, Kondo-san,” Hijikata noted without lifting his gaze from the line of shirt buttons he made quick work of undoing.
And that…well, that only made Kondo smile even more.
// Thanks so much for reading! This story will have multiple parts. :D
¹ uchiwa: A traditional fan that doesn’t fold, and an essential item in the hell known as Japanese summer
² genkan: The recessed part of the entryway where one removes their shoes before entering a home or some businesses
³ taku: Shortened from mataku. Used to express annoyance
Also, I modified the picture used for this piece by putting a wedding ring on Toshi. lol
