#best experienced with Christmas Kids by Roar playing

[prefixsstars]

“Mizuki, my dear, don’t ever disappear.”

Minori loved Mizuki dearly. For all their flaws and insecurities, no matter what, Minori simply adored them.

But at times like these, Minori couldn’t do anything but worry. Mizuki had currently locked the door to their room and wouldn’t leave.

Minori was sat outside of their door trying to get through to Mizuki. She had been sitting for at least an hour waiting and trying to get the door to open to no avail.

Minori knew that Mizuki struggled with something, she’s just not sure what that something is. She honestly felt like a failure, what girlfriend doesn’t notice that their partner is struggling.

All the different times that Minori had asked Mizuki how they were doing, Mizuki brushing her off saying that everything was alright, came back to her.

Minori could feel tears streaming down her face and quickly wiped them away. She’d have time to wallow in self pity later. What mattered was making sure Mizuki was okay.

She slowly stood up and turned to face the door.

“Mizuki, can I come in?”

Silence

Minori tried again

“Mizuki, I won’t pressure you to tell me what’s wrong, I just want you to tell me if you’re okay.”

Some light shuffling could be heard from behind the door. It opened just a crack so some of the inside could be seen.

Minori hurried inside the room and shut the door behind her. She quickly kneeled down in front of Mizuki.

Mizuki in all honestly felt like shit. Everything was off in every sense. They felt even worse for worrying Minori, that was the last thing Mizuki has ever wanted to do.

They were supposed to go on a date today, specifically to the park, and Mizuki just had to ruin it.

Minori was so much better than them, deserved someone better than them. Someone who doesn’t keep secrets, someone who doesn’t lie to the people around them.

Minori was a bright light meant to give people hope, inspire them, but here she was sitting here with someone like Mizuki.

Mizuki couldn’t help the tears that started streaming dow their face. Everything was too much.

Minori was panicking, she had never seen them so out of it. She wished Mizuki had talked to her sooner, she could’ve helped.

“Mizuki, can I hug you?”. Minori asked, not knowing what kind of state they were in.

Mizuki nodded slowly and that’s all Minori needed. She wrapped her arms around Mizuki and squeezed them tightly. Minori hummed one of More More Jump’s songs until Mizuki calmed down.

After Mizuki’s sniffles had died down Minori pulled away slowly from the hug. Not sure what to do.

“Do you feel any better?”

Mizuki thought for a moment before shaking their head no.

Minori smiled, “That’s alright!! Do you wanna talk about it?”

Mizuki shook their head no again

“That’s alright too, Is there anything you need from me?”

Mizuki nodded, “Could we stay here today, I’m sorry, i know we were supposed to go on a date today but-“

Minori grabbed their hands, “Of course we can!!! We can go on a date another day! We can stay here as long as you want!”

They smiled gratefully, “Thank you.”

Minori nodded, “No, thank you. I’ll be here for you whenever. No matter what.”

Mizuki pulled Minori into another hug, which Minori smiled into.

As long as Mizuki is still here, Minori thinks it’ll be fine.

[no6secretsanta]

West Block Christmas

From @pigeonsimba for @marykedoesart.

Shion’s eyes flew across the page, drinking the words in hungrily. He had been curled up on the bed since he selected the book and blew the dust off the cover. He chose The Christmas Carolbecause he thought it’d be a quick read while he waited for Nezumi to come home. Now he was rapt.

As his eyes skimmed across the final sentence, Shion’s heart felt full: full of wonder, of magic, and a boundless curiosity and yearning for Christmas. Shion closed the book and ran his hand over the threadbare cover. Why don’t we have this holiday anymore?

No. 6 had no holidays except Holy Day—if a mandatory gathering around the Moondrop in praise of No. 6 could be considered a holiday. Christmas was different. It was a true celebration of humanity’s generosity and kinship. He could only imagine how beautiful it must have been: family and friends gathered around a feast, snow blanketing the world outside the window and a fire roaring on the hearth.

It made him feel proud to be human.

The handle of the door rattled and the specter of Marley’s ghost flitted through Shion’s mind for a heartbeat. Then Nezumi stepped into the room and the fear fell away in a rush.

“Nezumi!”

He hadn’t meant to shout, but the excitement burst out of him the moment he saw Nezumi. Nezumi paused in the doorway, eyes wide and expression caught between confusion and alarm.

“Sorry,” Shion said at a normal volume. “I haven’t spoken all day. I just finished a good book.”

Nezumi grunted in a knowing way and locked the door behind him.

“What’s the date?” Shion asked.

Nezumi crossed the room and Shion shifted to allow him a seat on the end of the bed. “December 10th.”

Shion grinned and scooted down beside him. “What do you know about Christmas?”

“Christmas?” Nezumi’s gaze dropped to the book between them. “Ah. Reading cautionary tales now?” he chuckled. “Christmas is a Christian gimmick.” He plucked the book from Shion’s hands and unceremoniously tossed it onto the floor. Shion’s heart plummeted. “Christians overwrote the winter solstice with a celebration of their own god to make turning pagans over to Christianity easier. It’s a holiday based on selfishness and forced compliance.”

“What? No it’s not!” Shion slid off the bed and rescued The Christmas Carol from the faded green carpet.

Nezumi leaned back on the wall and surveyed him from beneath hooded eyes. “There’s a pattern lately where you ask me to tell you about something, and then you get all indignant when tell you, and claim to know more than me. It’s very annoying.”

Shion shook his head. “You can’t be right. This book isn’t about that at all—it’s about being selfless! It’s about being generous and kind.”

“Yes, well, that book was written by a Christian. It would present its side in a generous and kind light.”

Tendrils of frustration writhed in Shion’s stomach. The excitement he experienced until a moment ago was real and pure. Whatever Christmas was truly, he knew what it was to him, and that was valid. He wouldn’t let Nezumi ruin it.

Shion raised his chin. “I want to celebrate it.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes and lolled his head to the side. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Go ahead then. Don’t let me get in your way.”

Shion tightened his grip on the book. “I want to celebrate it with you.”

Nezumi’s head snapped up. His gaze sharpened with feline menace and Shion reminded himself that he had resolved not to let Nezumi ruin his plans, no matter how cold and terrifying his glares became.

“Shion,” Nezumi said, sitting up. “Maybe you didn’t notice, but the people in West Block are dirt poor. We don’t have cash to burn on ourselves, let alone on gifts for other people.”

“But that’s the whole point! Christmas is a time to remember that all of us are human, that we’re all equal and deserving of joy, no matter how rich or poor. It’s a time for giving. No one needs to buy anything if they can’t; spending time together is a gift in of itself.”

“Geez…” Nezumi rested his head in his hands. “Listen, that sappy crap would never fly in West Block—and not in No. 6 either, for that matter. Can you imagine if everyone started getting ideas that they’re all equal?”

“I’m not asking everyone to celebrate it. I’m asking you. And Inukashi and Rikiga, too! It doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”

Nezumi lifted his head. “No way. But by all means try Inukashi and Rikiga. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”

“Nezumi… Please?” Nezumi just shook his head. Annoyance flickered in Shion’s chest. “Don’t be a Scrooge, Nezumi.”

A sardonic smile twisted Nezumi’s lips. “Bah humbug.”

“Look,” Shion started. He slotted The Christmas Carolonto the nearest shelf and sat down on the bed next to Nezumi. “I’ll take care of everything, okay? I’ll use the wage I get from washing dogs for what I need, I won’t ask you for anything. All you have to do is show up. Okay?”

Nezumi leered sidelong at him. His lips parted in the beginnings of a reply. It looked like a no. A small brown savior streaked into the room at that very moment and Shion seized upon him.

“Hamlet!”

Hamlet paused in the middle of the floor and twitched his nose. He seemed to be taking the temperature of the room. Hamlet turned towards the bookcases and chirruped. Tsukiyo and Cravat poked their heads out and Shion lowered his hands in invitation. He could have cried when all three mice leapt into his palms.

“Hey, guys.” Shion brought them up to face level. “Do you want to celebrate Christmas with me?”

The mice looked at each other. Then Hamlet squeaked and bobbed his head. 

“Thank you! Now, can you please convince this rat,” he turned them toward Nezumi, “to agree to join too?”

Nezumi’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know what you’re playing at,” he began, but the mice broke out into a squeaking fit, crawling over each other and waving their little paws. Nezumi’s frown deepened. “What have you done to my mice?”

“This is a coup, Nezumi,” Shion announced. “You are overruled.” He brought the raucous mice closer to Nezumi’s face. “Say you’ll celebrate Christmas.”

The corners of Nezumi’s mouth tightened as the mice cheeped and Shion stared him down, but at last the tension in his face wasn’t from disapproval or irritation. Nezumi snorted and Shion’s heart sped up.

“Alright,” Nezumi said. The mice went quiet and Nezumi gently pushed Shion’s hands and the mice away from his face. “If it so pleases Your Majesty, I will deign to join in your Christmas festivities. But good luck getting the mutt and the old man to agree.”

—–

Inukashi and Rikiga didn’t look ecstatic to be occupying the same room, but they had obeyed Shion’s summons nonetheless.

They were seated when they entered, and Nezumi went straight for one of the remaining chairs. This small room Inukashi used as an office and bedroom had probably never expected to house so many at once.

Shion didn’t sit. He was too restless.

A single candle burned on the small, round table, filling everyone’s eyes with a flickering warmth.

Shion clasped his hands behind his back. “Thank you all for coming.”

“What gives, Shion? Why’re we here?” Inukashi’s small dark eyes scanned the persons in the room. “This is a suspicious group…” Their eyes flashed and snapped back to Shion. “Do you have a job? Is that what this is?”

Nezumi chuckled. “Shion have a job? Please.”

“Eve’s right,” Rikiga said, clucking his tongue. “Shion’s too good a kid to be caught up in the shady stuff you deal in, mutt.”

“And that you deal in,” Nezumi quipped drily.

“Like you’re a saint!” the older man growled back.

Shion cleared his throat. The group settled again and gave him their attention. “I would like to invite you all to Christmas.”

The candle flame danced manically for a moment as the draft grew stronger. The silence stretched even after it died down. Nezumi smirked and Shion wanted to punch him.

“Christmas?” Rikiga said at last. He scratched the stubble on his chin. It looked like the word resonated with him, but he couldn’t quite reach the meaning.

Inukashi frowned. “What the hell is Christmas?”

Shion perked up. “It’s a holiday that people used to celebrate on the 25thof December. Everyone gathers in one place and eats together, and you exchange gifts, and the book I read says a long time ago people also held balls where they got dressed up and danced.”

“Danced?” Inukashi wrinkled their nose. Their eyes darted to Nezumi. “You encouraged this?”

“Of course not. But you know Shion. Once it gets into his head…” Nezumi shrugged a shoulder.

Shion cast a beleaguered look around the room. His hopes grew smaller and smaller as each face revealed less and less enthusiasm. “I know it’s not what you’re used to. I know you all think I’m crazy or naïve to want to do this. But is it really so crazy? To want to spend time with the people I care about?” Shion hung his head and sighed. “All I’m asking is for one night. A few hours where we can try to enjoy what we have, instead of being cynical about what we don’t.”

Rikiga’s eyes shone in the aftermath of Shion’s plea. Nezumi’s face remained carefully impassive.

“So…” Inukashi wriggled in their seat. “You want to do this Christmas thing…because you care about us?”

Shion raised his head. “Yes. You’re my friends.”

Inukashi didn’t know what to do with that answer, so they pulled the puppy playing by their chair into their lap and pressed their face into his fur to think.

“Oh, Shion,” Rikiga crooned. He pushed out of his chair and crushed Shion against his chest. “You’re such a good kid. A selfless angel, just like your mother.”

Shion patted Rikiga once on the back and extricated himself from the bear hug. “Does that mean you’ll do it, Mr. Rikiga?”

“Of course I’ll do it. Anything for you.”

Shion beamed. “Thank you. I was really hoping you’d agree, because I want to have the party at your house.”

The rosy cheer faded from Rikiga’s cheeks. “My house?”

“You have that big back room and a fireplace, and the best food. Of course, Nezumi and I will bring some things too, but your house is the perfect place to celebrate. I couldn’t imagine having it anywhere else.”

“Oh.” Rikiga cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Shion… My place isn’t really suited for kids.”

“Come now,” Nezumi drawled. “It’s your precious Shion’s Christmas wish. You aren’t going to crush the kid’s dream, are you, old man?”

Rikiga’s brow clouded. “Well… I…”

Shion stretched his smile even broader. “Thank you so much, Mr. Rikiga!” He threw his arms around the older man and squeezed. “This means a lot to me, and I know that if my mom were here, she would be so proud and grateful to you.”

Rikiga sputtered, utterly defeated. Shion’s gaze met Nezumi’s and Nezumi mouthed, Nice. The corner of Shion’s mouth quirked. He let Rikiga go and focused on the last holdout.

Inukashi shrunk under Shion’s eager gaze. “Nezumi agreed to do this?”

“He did.”

“I was overruled, apparently.”

With no other avenue for refusal, Inukashi had no choice but to agree. They lowered the wriggling puppy to the floor. “What do we have to do again? Bring food and stuff?”

“You don’t have to bring food if you don’t want to. But I was thinking… Well, part of Christmas is about giving gifts to the people you appreciate, and I know it’d be difficult for everyone to get a present for everyone, so I was thinking we’d each only get a gift for one person.” Shion reached into his pocket and pulled out four crumpled scraps of paper. “It’s like a lottery.” 

“I don’t know, Shion,” Nezumi said. “I read The Lottery and it didn’t work out too well for the person who got picked.”

“Hush,” Shion chided.

“What’s a lottery?” Inukashi said, eyeing the papers with trepidation.

“It’s simple. We each take a piece of paper and you get a gift for the person written on it.” Shion dumped the papers on the table. “Everyone take one. Don’t give away who you have, though, even if you don’t like what you draw. We want it to be a surprise for Christmas day! I’ll go first.”

Shion grabbed the paper nearest to him and shielded it in his palms as he read. He nodded. “Alright, who’s next?”

The other three exchanged a look, but one by one they chose a paper. Inukashi and Rikiga made faces as they read their selections, but Nezumi just glanced at his and stuffed it into his pocket.

“No one got their own name? Great! You have until the 25thto get a present, and then we open them at the party. It doesn’t have to be a big gift, but try to put some thought into it.”

Inukashi and Rikiga grumbled.

—–

Shion woke with the sunrise Christmas day. Nezumi was nowhere to be seen. His side of the bed was cool when Shion placed a hand on it.

He should have guessed. Nezumi had been avoiding him as Christmas grew nearer, claiming that the holiday was silly and that Shion’s childlike glee irked him. Maybe Nezumi did truly think those things, but Shion suspected there was more to his evasions than what he said aloud. Nezumi was hiding something, he just didn’t know what or from whom.

But I’ll learn tonight.

For the nth time Shion felt a pleasant jolt race through his veins. Today was Christmas! He couldn’t wait to see what everyone prepared.

The mice were curled fast asleep on the pillow, and Shion did his best to slip out and into the shower without disturbing them. As he dried his hair, Shion mused on how long he had until the party. A little less than ten hours.

Shion peered under the bed at his present. The object was wrapped tightly in several layers of newspaper. Shion had collected the pages on his walks home and borrowed tape from Rikiga to stick them all together.

He brushed the corner of the package where Cravat had gnawed a small hole. “Ten hours…”

Shion did whatever chores he could think of to pass the morning. He organized the room, did laundry, washed their mugs, and fetched new water from the stream. Anything to keep his mind occupied. But even then he could barely contain his excitement when he met Inukashi later for dog washing.

Between the dog kisses and soapsuds Shion gushed about all the things he had read about Christmas in the last few weeks: about children waiting up for Santa Claus, about caroling, and decorating, and Christmas trees, and snowball fights. Inukashi asked question after question and scoffed more than once at the things Shion told them, but by the time they’d finished, Inukashi seemed to be looking forward to the party that night.

When Nezumi finally turned up at the underground room that evening Shion was near to bursting.

“Geez,” Nezumi muttered when he noticed Shion sitting rapt on the bed. “The aura around you right now… It’s making me nauseated. I might have to stay home.”

“You are coming and that’s that. Did you bring the food?”

Nezumi held up a bag. “Bread, meat, and booze, as Your Majesty requested. You should have seen the looks I got shelling out coin for this. If I had been anyone else, I would have been jumped on the way home and taken for all I’m worth. This better be a damn good party.”

“It will be. Thank you, Nezumi.”

Nezumi grunted. “Let’s just go already.”

Shion pawed his present out from under the bed. Nezumi arched an eyebrow as Shion hefted up against his chest.

“Ready!” Shion grinned over the top of the newspaper. “Where’s your present?”

“That’s for me to know and you to see.” Nezumi threw open the door and disappeared into the hall.

—–

Rikiga squinted at Nezumi when he opened the door. He looked as though he didn’t understand why two teenagers showed up.

“Mr. Rikiga?”

Rikiga’s eyes slid from Nezumi to Shion and at last a sliver of recognition seeped into his face. “Shion! That’s right. Is it the 25thalready?”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Rikiga.”

“Somebody pregamed,” Nezumi muttered.

Shion didn’t know what that meant, but Nezumi’s tone and the scent of alcohol emanating from Rikiga’s person gave him a clue.

Nezumi crossed his arms and sneered. “Did you leave anything for the party? Good thing we brought our own wine,” he said sidewise to Shion.

Rikiga wrinkled his nose. “Show me some respect, Eve. It’s my house.” He yanked the door open.

Shion gazed around while they waited for Rikiga to reveal the hidden room. The living room was in chaos. Papers littered the floor, and empty bottles lined the coffee table. Shion had thought maybe the disarray he’d seen the first day they met Rikiga had been a result of the fight with his ex, but it seemed this was Rikiga’s regular state of living.

At least on the surface.

Rikiga laid his hand on the wall behind the mangy textile sofa and the partition in the wall slid open, revealing the decadent room inside. A fire blazed on the hearth, shimmering against the red and gold fibers in the carpet. The leather chairs and couch in front of the fireplace were in impeccable condition and sang with warm invitation.

Shion placed his gift down on the couch and approached the table. A plate of cheese and grapes sat in the middle, and, despite the fact that Rikiga smelled like a liquor cabinet, two unopened bottles of wine sat at the edge of the table.

Shion’s mouth watered. He hadn’t seen such a luxurious meal in a while, and coupled with the things Nezumi brought, this would be a feast none of them would soon forget.

“This looks amazing!”

Rikiga preened. “Yes, well, it is Christmas. I had to make sure everything was just right. There’s pie and coffee for dessert, too.”

Nezumi harrumphed and unloaded their foodstuff onto the table. A knock sounded from the other room as he finished. “And there’s the mutt.” Nezumi looked into Shion’s smiling face. “Let the party begin.”

Inukashi ate like a ravenous animal and even displayed some food aggression. This irked everyone but Shion, who was too much in the Christmas spirit to be offended. Now was a time to enjoy to the utmost. Shion gave Inukashi his portion of bread, which made them pause and realize the intensity of their behavior. Inukashi calmed down after that and the table devolved into verbal sparring and backhanded comments up until dessert.

Happiness bloomed white hot in Shion’s chest as he cradled his coffee in his hands. Everything was just as he imagined it would be—no, better. The only thing that could make this moment more perfect would be…

Mom and Safu. 

The stuffy feeling in his chest crawled up into his throat and choked until his vision blurred. Shion dropped his head and tried to discreetly wipe his eyes. He didn’t want to be sad, not now, when this was the happiest he’d ever been.

Nezumi was watching him when he recovered. Heat climbed up the back of Shion’s neck. He avoided Nezumi’s gaze and sipped at his mug.

Tsukiyo poked his head out of the superfiber wrapped around Nezumi’s shoulders and squeaked. Nezumi glanced sharply down at him and dropped his silverware onto his plate, creating enough noise to claim the table’s attention. “Let���s open presents now.”

“We’re not done eating,” Inukashi protested, forking another piece of pecan pie. “And how come you can bring your pets, but I can’t bring mine?”

“The food isn’t going anywhere. I, however, will be very soon. So up you go.” Nezumi pushed back from the table and draped himself over the leather armchair nearest the fire. “Shion, you’re the MC of this shindig, why don’t you go first?”

Shion scrambled out of his chair, scooped his gift off the couch, and plopped down in its place. “Everyone, grab your gift! Let’s sit by the fire.”

Inukashi claimed the cushion beside Shion, and Rikiga lowered himself into the remaining armchair.

“So? Who’d you get?” Inukashi eyed the large package in Shion’s arms.

“I got…Mr. Rikiga!”

Rikiga perked up as Shion deposited the gift in his lap. He peeled back the newspaper to reveal the gift inside: a silver typewriter. The base was slightly banged up and the keys faded, but it was usable and legible. Shion made sure of that before purchasing it for more than it was probably worth monetarily. But he thought it would be worth its weight in memories.

“You said you were a reporter before. That’s how you met my mom. So I thought you might like this, to write with, or maybe just as a reminder.”

 “You do know that when Rikiga was a reporter, he used a computer, right?” Nezumi drawled. “The old man’s not thatold.”

Everyone in the room glared. Nezumi made a face and lounged deeper into the armchair.

“It’s beautiful, Shion. I’ll treasure it,” Rikiga said, smiling. “Guess it’s me now?” Rikiga fished around in his suit pocket and pulled out a small paper-wrapped parcel. “This is for you, kid.” He held it out to Inukashi.

Inukashi’s nose twitched and there was no mistaking the look on their face for anything but rapt excitement as they tore open the package. Inukashi stared down at it when it was fully unwrapped. They stared until the fire began to feel too hot.

Inukashi raised their head and leered at Rikiga. “Soap? Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Rikiga sputtered. “It’s something you need, right? What else was I supposed to get you? Dogs? You already have every dog in West Block!”

“Then get me dog stuff!”

“Use the soap for the dogs, then!”

“You’re the worst! I at least put thoughtinto my gift!” Inukashi jumped up, grabbed their present from the table, and flung it at Nezumi’s chest. “Here’s your stupid Christmas gift, Nezumi.”

Nezumi held the package up by the corner with two fingers. “Did your dogs help you wrap this?”

“Shut up, you filthy ingrate.”

Nezumi smiled and tore the paper. His eyebrows shot up. Shion rose and peered into his lap. Within the shreds of wrapping lay a small bag filled with coal. Shion frowned. He had read about children who received coal as punishment for bad behavior.

“That’s not very nice, Inukashi…” he said.

“What? What’s wrong with it?” Inukashi looked between him and Nezumi and Shion suddenly felt unsure. “He can put it in your heater, or whatever. That’s a valuable resource! Far better than that rat deserves.”

“Yeah, Shion,” Nezumi said. “Don’t be such a snob.”

Shion mumbled an apology.

Nezumi rubbed his blackened fingers on his pant leg. “This was more than I expected, Inukashi. You’re surprisingly thoughtful.”

“Of course I’m thoughtful,” they spat. “I gather intelligence for a living. So, is that it?” Inukashi wrinkled their nose at the soap.

Shion stopped hanging his head as he realized he was the only one left. “That means…” His eyes lit up. “Nezumi, you must have me!”

“He got the easy one,” Inukashi grumbled. “Damn rat probably rigged it.”

Nezumi unfurled from the armchair and stood. Shion’s heart pounded as Nezumi reached into his pocket and extended a closed fist. He held his heat-slickened palm out to receive what he offered.

Nezumi dropped a pair of D batteries into his hand. Shion frowned.

Inukashi cackled. “Batteries? God, Nezumi, you’re an even worse gift giver than Mr. Alcoholic over here.”

Rikiga shook his head and sighed. “Honestly… At least the kid can use my gift.”

Nezumi turned a bored look on them. “Obviously, this is only part one. Some assembly is required for my gift. Part two,” Nezumi plucked the batteries back out of Shion’s palm and took him by the hand, “is outside. It’s been fun, but we’ll be going now.”

Nezumi collected their coats from the table and crammed the bag of coal and batteries into the open pockets. Inukashi gaped as Nezumi glided by them.

“Wait, what? Where are you going? Don’t leave me alone with him!”

“Merry Christmas!” Nezumi called over his shoulder as he dragged Shion out the front door and into the street.

“Nezumi? What’s going on?”

“Like I said. Part two.” Nezumi waited for him to don his coat before tugging him on.

Shion’s brow furrowed at the ambiguity and rough handling, but then he noticed that Nezumi had taken up his hand again.

“Oh! Is this part two?”

“Hm?”

Shion nodded at their clasped hands.

“This? No way. I’m not a cheapskate. How does that even make sense with the batteries?”

Shion didn’t think holding hands as a Christmas present was a cheap gift at all, especially from someone as emotionally jagged as Nezumi, But he and Nezumi differed much on what they considered worthy of their energy.

 “But sure,” Nezumi said after a moment. “Consider it a bonus if it’s really that amazing. Weirdo.” He blew out a breath. Shion smiled as he watched its frosty tendrils twist skyward.

Nezumi took them on the path back to the underground room, and Shion tried to guess what part two was. He voiced his ideas aloud at first, but Nezumi only said, “Hm,” and “Maybe” in response, so Shion gave up after a few tries and focused on the warmth between his and Nezumi’s palms.

They reached the fork where normally they’d go left towards home, but Nezumi led him right, up towards the top of the hill. Tsukiyo popped his head out of Nezumi’s superfiber and twitched his nose at Shion. He turned and squeaked softly in Nezumi’s ear.

“Perfect timing,” Nezumi muttered. He stopped walking and looked to a batch of trees a little ways off.

Shion’s mouth popped open. A tree in the distance burst into multicolored lights. Green, blue, red, and orange blurs speckled the sparse branches and curled around the trunk. Shion drew towards it, and soon it was he who was dragging Nezumi by the arm.

“This is…!” Shion spluttered.

 “A Christmas tree, yes.”

 “Yes! Nezumi, it’s amazing!”

Shion let Nezumi’s hand go and circled the tree. He felt light from the wonder. The blubs shone brilliantly on the branches, like stars hung in a barren universe. Shion followed the length of the string down the trunk. Battery packs nestled amongst the roots. 

“The lights were stashed away in one of the underground rooms,” Nezumi explained, anticipating the question. “There’s all sorts of junk in there. Whoever stocked the place was a serious hoarder.”

“It’s perfect.” Shion touched a blue light and held the small warmth in his fingers. A brighter, tighter warmth built in his chest. Shion moved back to Nezumi’s side.

Nezumi held his gaze. The lights danced off his eyes and made the fine strands of his hair gleam.

“I love it, Nezumi.” Shion slid his hand into Nezumi’s and squeezed. “Thank you.”

Nezumi’s jaw shifted. He turned his face away and stared up at the tree. “Merry Christmas, Shion.” He said it quietly, calmly, with the same cool indifference he had displayed time again.

But the grip on Shion’s hand tightened, and as the minutes ticked by, he didn’t let go.

[newtothewaywardparty]

The Ghost of an Idea 3

Read Stave One: Bobby’s Ghost, Part 1

Read Stave Two: Bobby’s Ghost, Part 2

Stave Two: The First of the Three Spirits, Part 1

When Dean awoke, it was so dark he couldn’t make out the rickety TV stand in the ratty motel room. He blindly fumbled on the nightstand for his phone and checked the time, his eyes squinting against the blue glare of the screen.

To his astonishment, it read 11:58 p.m. Dean had passed out around two in the morning. He swiped his screen to wake it up, checking the date next to the time. Had he actually passed out and slept all the way through the day and into the next night? No, the date still read December 24.

Dean stumbled out of bed and groped his way to the window, pulling aside the curtains, upsetting a cloud of dust that rained cigarette ash smell into the room, clouding his vision and making him cough. When the fine powder settled, Dean almost shrieked. Jo Harvelle stood just outside the window.

She stood still as a statue, unblinking yet unmenacing. Her hair was long and golden, carefully arranged in gentle waves. Mindless of the cold, she wore not her usual hunter’s jeans but rather a long, white sundress, the kind Dean knew chicks sometimes wore to outdoor music festivals. The dress was cinched with a southwestern-style silver concho belt, studded with turquoise. Her well-worn shit-kickers completed the ensemble, Dean noted with a small smile. You could take the girl out of hunting, but you couldn’t take the hunter out of the girl.

The weirdest part was, she seemed to glow from the inside out with a strange light, making her appear both younger and older than when Dean had known her at the Roadhouse and, later, on hunts together. The light emanated strongest from her head, which was just weird. Dean held his arm up like a visor to protect his hungover eyes as he tried to see which version (childlike or ancient) she really was, but it made him dizzy and sick. He was going to blame the sherry.

Dean pulled the window open. Let’s kick this in the ass, he thought. “So you’re Bobby’s first messenger?” he asked.

“That’s right, sweetheart” Jo replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past.” She spread her arms wide. She always had a flair for the dramatic, Dean reflected.

“Can you maybe-” Dean waved his other hand to indicate her head, shining like a beacon in the dark parking lot.

“Fine,” she sighed, producing a straw cowgirl hat with a colored beaded band from somewhere and placing it on her head. The light dampened considerably so that Dean could look at her through narrowed eyelids. “But it’s not my fault you can’t look at it.” She pouted a bit, and looked every bit the young woman she had been all those years ago at the Roadhouse in Nebraska. Dean shook that memory away, trying to clear his head.

“Uh,” Dean began. Articulate as always. “So what’s the game plan, here?” The frigid air was beginning to make him shiver, even fully dressed as he had fallen asleep. He grabbed his own arms to stop his shivering.

Jo gave him a lopsided smile. “C’mon Dean. I know you like to pretend to be dumber than a post, but I know you’ve at least seen Scrooged.”

Dean shrugged noncomittally. He was a huge Bill Murray fan. Of course he had seen it, but he wasn’t going to give anything up easily. He was even more reluctant to admit he had seen A Muppet Christmas Carol back at the bunker with Cas. They had sat together on Dean’s bed, comfortable with beer and Funyuns. Dean’s heart clenched as he remembered fielding Cas’ questions. “How can a Pig and a Frog be romantically attracted to each other? How do they reproduce? This movie is extremely scientifically inaccurate, Dean.”

“Let’s go, Dean” Jo said, now seeming older again, confident and immune to Dean’s bullshit, holding out her hand through the window. “We’re burning time here.”

Dean took her hand, a little unsure how she expected him to scramble through the windowsill, high above the ancient radiator. Once they touched, though, he found himself floating, perfectly warm, through the air with her, flying above the Western Kansas countryside. The highway stretched out below them, and Dean could see wind turbines like a field of white sunflowers, their red air safety lights blinking at the top. It was like looking down onto a field of twinkling red Christmas lights.

“I can’t believe you Superman’d me!” Dean shouted over the rushing wind. He couldn’t help grinning widely as they soared over the Flint Hills, the lack of moonlight making their rolling curves seem sharper and deeper.

Jo laughed, a childish bubbling sound. “Can You Read My Mind?” She intoned in mock-serious tones.

Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re no Lois Lane, Joanna Beth.” He glanced down to see Mount Oread speeding toward them, the red-tiled roofs of the limestone University buildings visible even in the gloom. “Hey, this is Lawrence!” he exclaimed in recognition. “I grew up near here,” he said, even as they glided over his old elementary school, the playground where he had first learned to swing, pumping his little legs forward and back. It felt like flying. Dean experienced an unfamiliar physical sensation, one which he was unaccustomed to feeling, except on rare occasions of peace with Sam, and of course whenever he and Cas shared companionable moments, like when they had worked that case in Dodge City. He felt light in a way that had nothing to do with the magic of soaring through the air with Jo.

Jo steered them lower until they almost hit the roofs of the houses on the suburban block. “Do you know where you are?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Sam and I actually worked a case here about ten years back.” He blinked and somehow they were in the living room. He would have been more panicked but time travel had kind of becoming routine for him. Nevertheless, he was still amazed, taking in all the detail his memory had forgotten over the years. An afghan of multicolored granny squares adorned the avocado green and harvest gold plaid couch. A modest tree, draped with tinsel, stood by the window. Dean’s eyes fell to the carnage of empty boxes and wrapping paper under it.

“Oh wow! My Big Wheel!” He ran a hand over the red, yellow, and blue tricycle. “I totally forgot about this! And my G.I. Joe, man, he was so cool.” Dean picked up the action figure (no, it was totally not a doll, thankyouverymuch) and made shooting noises with its little gun. He turned, dropping it, as his eyes widened. “Oh, whoah, I totally remember this-” He started toward the object of his attention when he was interrupted by a man walking into the room.

He wore wide-leg light-wash jeans cinched with a brown belt with a large buckle. His western-style plaid shirt was tight with pearlescent buttons. His hair was shaggy (almost as long as Sam’s now), his face clean-shaven, but Dean would know him anywhere.

“Dad?” Dean breathed. His chest hitched. His Dad did not acknowledge them in any way. Jo placed a reassuring hand on Dean’s arm.

“They can’t hear or see us” she said, a too-kind expression on her face.

“Dean! Get in here, son. I found what I was looking for” John Winchester called. For the first time, Dean noticed the cardboard album cover in John’s hands. A small boy, little more than a toddler, careened into the living room, rushing into his dad’s arms with a squeal. He had a blonde bowl haircut, chunky cheeks, and brown corduroy jeans. Dean flinched, instinctively guarding against John’s reaction. His father only gathered the boy up in a bear hug and roared.

“All right, little monster,” John said, after setting young Dean down on the braided rug. “I want to show you how to use this new tool.” Dean’s mouth fell open as the man indicated the toy adult Dean had been wanting to get his hands on, an orange plastic Fisher-Price record player in its own portable case, designed for young hands.

With patience Dean had never seen John Winchester use anytime in his conscious memory, his father explained, step-by-step to his child self how to carefully place the vinyl on the turntable, turn it on, and place the needle. The album in use was John Denver’s Poems, Prayers, & Promises. After completing his explanation, John kindly coached young Dean through the steps himself, praising the child when he did something correctly, and gently correcting him when he forgot the order of steps or was too rough. Preschool Dean beamed, eyes gleaming, when “Sunshine on my Shoulders” began playing from the player’s tiny speakers. John patted him on the shoulder, silently approving.

“Boys!” came a voice from the kitchen. “Supper’s almost ready.” Dean’s mother appeared at the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. Mary’s skin was flushed from the heat of cooking. She was lovely and warm, just as Dean remembered. “Go get washed up now” she said, in a not-at-all-stern tone, putting her hands on her hips, her belly heavy with Sam, who would be born in the spring. Dean drank her in greedily. This was Christmas 1982. Dean was just three years old. This was his last Christmas with his mom. Their last Christmas as a family. Before…

Jo interrupted him. “What’s that on your cheek, Dean?”

Dean sniffed “Sweat. It’s too damn hot in here.” Jo pretended not to see him discreetly swipe at his eyes with the back of a sleeve. He resumed watching as his small family gathered around the oak table piled high with ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and of course, his mom’s homemade apple pie. Little Dean sat in a green molded plastic booster, eating enthusiastically with his Bert and Ernie and Big Bird silverware, his parents chatting happily on either side. Dean shook his head. “Poor kid,” he uttered under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jo. She raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“I just…” Dean struggled to find the words. I barely remember this, but at least I had it once. Sam never had it all, even though I tried my best. Now it’s Jack’s first Christmas, and…” he shrugged, stuffing his hand in his pockets. “I just wish I had maybe stuck around; shown him a good one. Like this.”

Jo smiled thoughtfully and waved her hand. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand” she said brightly, and suddenly they were in a different living room. Dean recognized the tan velour couch instantly. This was Sonny’s farmhouse, the boy’s home where he had spent a couple of months in 1995 after he had gotten nabbed for stealing food for Sam. Teen-aged him sat on the couch, sucking face with Robin.

Dean whirled on Jo. “What the hell? This wasn’t even at Christmas!”

“Your history didn’t leave a plethora of choices. We had to make do with what we had.” Jo shot back, defensively.

“We?” inquired Dean.

Jo gave him a sharp smile. “When Bobby Singer calls, I answer.” She shrugged. “Plus, I’m not gonna pass up the chance to work one last case with a Winchester.” She winked at him, then nudged his arm. “Shhh, or you’ll miss it.”

They turned back to the teenagers making out on the couch. They were discussing the upcoming school dance. “I’m not going anywhere, Robin.” Grown-up Dean winced at those words. He knew how much he meant them at the time. How quickly he’d forget them once John showed up with Sam in tow. Sam would come first, before anything else, for a long time after that.

“She was your first love.” Jo said, a soft look on her face. Dean’s face didn’t leave young Robin. He nodded.

“You never loved anyone like this again.” stated Jo. She looked older now, tired and sad.

Dean whipped his head toward her. “I have so!” he retorted.

“Not like this,” said Jo. “Not in that whole, pure, unguarded way.” The scene around them shifted. Sixteen-year-old Dean was tying his tie over that dorky short-sleeved dress shirt, and Sonny was telling him his father was here to take him away.

“This was the moment, Dean.” Jo said, voice low and deliberate. “The moment you discovered giving your heart to someone could mean getting it broken.” Dean’s tracked his young self helplessly as he went to the window, looking out at John and Sam. Followed the boy, he was just a kid, as he shook hands, brave face through tears with Sonny. Jo continued: “You always held yourself back after this. Cassie, Lisa, anyone else; you never really let them in.”

Dean grit his teeth and whirled on Jo. “Good talk, Russ. Next stop?” Jo touched his hand and they stood on the shore of a lake Dean had never wanted to see again in his life or any other. He barely had time to draw a breath before his eyes landed on Cas, blade sticking through his check, blue light escaping his mouth and eyes. Shit.

Read Stave Two: The First of the Three Spirits, Part 2

[imwastingmylifeinhere]

Magnus Chase and the Obligatory Hogwarts AU Ch9

On ao3

So here's the new chapter! I don't have much to say this time, mostly because I got exams coming up and... yeah, pray for my ass (or laugh at my misery. That works too). Anyway, I gotta go back to studying now, so bye! (Someone save me!)

A cool breeze blew the player’s hair out of their faces as the Slytherin and Ravenclaw Quidditch teams played against each other. With Christmas closing in on them – students who were planning to go back home for the holiday were scheduled to leave in two days - the weather was getting colder and colder by the second. At the moment, the sky was fully covered in clouds, giving the impression that the sky was white instead of blue. Magnus’ nose felt as if it might break of- something he had learned could actually happen and he wasn’t that keen on experiencing it.

Magnus, Halfborn, T.J and Conall were sitting at the stands and, much like them when Slytherin had played against Gryffindor last year, the latter was dressed in both teams’ colors. Conall had been nervously looking around for a seat when Magnus saw him, clearly feeling out of place because of people looking at him. Magnus knew the feeling well; it was weird going to a Quidditch match dressed in both teams’ colors, especially if it was the first time you did it.

“Hey, Conall!” Magnus had called out to him. “Come over here!”

The freckled boy had seemed extremely grateful to be taken out of the uncomfortable situation he had been in. He had walked over to where Magnus and his friends had been sitting and tried to make small talk. Magnus had made a point of being extra friendly- Conall was a friend of Alex, after all, so even if they hadn’t talked much, that made him his friend.

The match had gone down like you’d expect a Quidditch match to go down. Both teams did their best to steal the balls and score points and the Seekers hovered above the court like hawks, scanning the space below them for any sign of the golden little ball that would guarantee them victory.

T.J was just as energetic as he always was during Quidditch games, easily cheering just as much as an entire cheerleader squad. With the addition of Halfborn, they were a sight to behold- they waved their scarves around and cheered with an almost religious fervor. With Halfborn’s booming voice and T.J’s enthusiasm, they were more than enough to make up for the entirety of the Slytherin stand – probably the Ravenclaw one too.

Magnus had been watching his friends go all out with an amused smile when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to Conall who was sitting next to him with a questioning look.

“Mm, what is it?”

“I, ah, I was wondering if you could help me with something,” he said nervously. His hands were fiddling with the ends of his scarf and Magnus kind of wanted to tell him to stop doing that because he might completely ruin it if he kept at it.

“What is it?” Magnus asked.

“Well, um, I kind of-“ Conall started. Realizing he was simply rambling on, he stopped and started over again. “Okay, so I have this friend and, well… I think I like her!” he said quickly.

Magnus was taken aback by the confession. He was expecting Conall to ask him about schoolwork or something like that. He wasn’t expecting for the other boy to confide to him about his love life. He wanted to tell Conall he’s better off asking T.J or Alex –even Sam- rather than him, but he was a sucker for helping people and he didn’t want to disappoint him. He was already trying to get Halfborn and Mallory together – maybe he had some advice to give him. It might work.

His mind quickly went through all the girls he had seen Conall talk to more than once. There was Alex, obviously, but it couldn’t possibly be him because he was a boy today (though maybe he didn’t know, but it seemed unlikely it was Alex he was talking about). He tried to remember all the random people whose names he didn’t know he had seen around Conall and he remembered a chubby girl with chocolate brown hair he had seen around the boy a lot. She recognized her from the Hufflepuff common room and he knew she was in his Herbology class. He remembered them working together often and laughing at Conall’s bad jokes, so he felt confident she was the one he was talking about.

“Oh, okay. But what do you need my help for?” Magnus asked. He had a pretty clear idea what this was about, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

“Well, I, I think I like her, but… I’m not sure if I should tell her. I don’t like hiding it from her, but I don’t want things to be weird, so I’m not sure what to do.”

Magnus nodded. Yeah, this is what he had been expecting. He thought back to the chubby girl. He had always though she was the giggly type of girl, mostly because he always remembered her giggling at one of Conall’s joke, maybe a bit too much considering how bad they were (even if that was kind of the point). He had had random thoughts about how it looked like she had a crush on him, but he never entertained the thought too much, considering his habit of paring together people he didn’t even know in his head.

“I think you should tell her,” Magnus said. “Who knows, maybe she likes you back. And if she doesn’t, just be mature about it and things won’t be awkward.” At least that’s what they always say in TV shows.

“Are you sure?” the boy asked. Magnus had to say, Conall had an amazing ability to make himself seem as tiny as possible. With the way he was sitting hunched over his knees and his shoulders pulled high as if to hide himself, he looked like a frightened kitten in human form.

“Of course. Don’t worry about it too much. Just be honest, I’m sure she’ll understand. And if she does like you back, you might even become a couple, so it’s kinda worth the risk,” Magnus said, putting what he hopped was a comforting hand on Conall’s shoulder. “Of course, you don’t need to rush. Just prepare yourself and do it whenever you feel ready.”

There was a moment of silence as Conall took it all in but eventually he nodded. “Alright. Thank you for helping-“

It was at this moment that an ear-splitting roar went up through the crowd and Magnus realized that he had lost track of time as they were talking and someone had caught the Snitch.

“What happened? Who caught it?” he asked confused, getting up from his seat in hopes he could see over the crowd at what had happened. It was no use; everyone was standing up, cheering because of whatever amazing game had just taken place. He looked around quickly in order to figure out which students were losing their shit more.

With that scientific method, he deduced it was Ravenclaw who had won. The majority of the cheering crowd was dressed in blue and T.J and Halfborn seemed a bit disappointed.

“We won! We won!” an overenthusiastic Ravenclaw student said as he grabbed Conall by the shoulders and started shaking him back and forth as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. Poor Conall was left there wondering of what had just happened and why a kid he had never talked to was shaking him like a rug doll.

Regardless of what had gone down, the stands slowly emptied as students went to congratulate their friends who had won, consult their friends that had lost or simply leave because the match was done.

Magnus, T.J, Halfborn and Conall were standing by the door of the Slytherin locker room, waiting for their friends to come out. They were taking longer than normal for some reason.

Magnus couldn’t help but remember what had happened here a year ago. The moment was still fresh in his mind as if it had happened yesterday; the smell of the stuffy locker room around him, the sports equipment lining the selves, Sam’s comforting touch as he told her about his mother’s death. The burning in his eyes as he cried the tears he had been holding back for so long, the hoarseness of his throat from the crying, the sorrow that had finally allowed to wash over him after keeping it back like water in a dam.

Still… Magnus had come a long way since then. He wasn’t over the tragedy that had happened that summer night, not at all, but he had come to terms with it. He understood that grief wasn’t something you forgot and moved on from but rather something you accepted and learned to live with. He still hadn’t gotten the courage to visit his mother’s grave, but he was getting there.

“Hey, Magnus, T.J? Can I talk with you for a sec?” Halfborn asked. There was something in the way he said it that made Magnus think this was about something important – maybe it was how uncertain the taller boy seemed about what he was saying, maybe it was that his eyes didn’t quite meet theirs.

T.J and Magnus nodded. “Sure, of course,” the Ravenclaw said.

There was a moment of pause as no one said anything before Halfborn coughed and said. “Um, it’s private.” He send a side glance at Conall, who was still standing near them and Magnus got the message.

“Oh, Conall, we’ll be back in a while,” Magnus said and he walked with his other two friends to the side of the locker room building where Conall wouldn’t hear them.

“What’s wrong?” T.J asked as soon at they were out of earshot.

“I, well, I wanted to talk to you about…” Halfborn started, but his words trailed off. He seemed almost as nervous as he was before an especially big exam – a rare sight because Halfborn was rarely nervous over an exam.

“About?” Magnus egged him on, doing a little ‘keep going’ gesture with his hand. It looked like he was cutting circles in the air with his hand.

“About… well, Mallory,” the ox of a boy continued.

If there was one way to describe the smile that took over T.J’s face at that exact moment it was shit eating. The most shit eating grin of them all. Magnus was half excepting him to say “you liiiiiiike her” in a silly voice. Fortunately for Halfborn’s dignity, he didn’t do that.

“What about Mallory?” he asked innocently instead. He might have asked the question with the innocence of a kindergartener but Magnus didn’t miss the evil glint in his eye. Oh, he was enjoying this so much.

“Y-you know…” Halfborn said, his cheeks as red as the hair of the girl he was talking about.

“No, I don’t. You need to tell me,” T.J went on, clearly seeing how this was embarrassing his friend and clearly enjoying it.

“He’s right,” Magnus added. T.J wasn’t going to have all the fun. “We can’t read minds, we won’t know what you’re trying to say to us unless you say it.”

“Ugh!” Halfborn let out a loud groan, literally pulling at his hair, before turning back to T.J and Magnus. “I like Mallory, alright? I like Mallory!” he hissed at them.

“What?” Magnus said, making his accent sound as over-the-top as bad American actors pretending they were British. “Why, I would have never even imagined it! Would you, T.J?”

“No, of course not, dear Magnus. This comes as such a surprise to me!” T.J said, mimicking Magnus’ dramatic actions. “Why, next thing you know, you’ll tell me the sky is blue or that water is wet!”

“Okay, I get it!” Halfborn said, red as a tomato. “Now can you stop being little shits and help me out? What am I supposed to do?”

“Ask her out,” T.J and Magnus said in unison, faces completely straight.

“I-I—what? I-I can’t do that!” Halfborn spluttered out. He looked around him suspiciously, as if he was afraid someone would hear the shocking revelation that he, a teenage boy, wanted to ask out a girl.

“Yes, you can,” Magnus said. He momentarily though if he should think of it as weird that he was giving love advice to two different people when his own love life was nonexistent, but he pushed that thought to the side. “You just go up to her, use your words and ask her on a date.”

“But I-“

“You’re scared because this is something new and you don’t know how to go on about it,” T.J interrupted. “We get it, but come on! You’re a Gryffindor, you can do this! You’re supposed to be brave!”

Magnus nodded along. “Yeah, he’s right. You’ve won so many Quidditch matches and will give up before something this small?”

“Although you figured out your feelings for Mallory a bit late, considering you’re both leaving for home in two days, but better late than never!” T.J added.

Halfborn seemed to deflate at that, probably preferring to get this out of the way soon, rip it off like a bandage, instead of having to deal with his feeling for the entirety of the Christmas Holidays.

“But hey, this can still work out!” Magnus continued in hopes of cheering up his friend. “We’re going to exchange gifts tomorrow, so you can ask her out on a date then. It’ll just be after you come back to school, so you have the holidays to prepare.”

Halfborn seemed to have mixed feeling about that. Magnus could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t against the idea, yet the mere prospect of going thought with it terrified him.

“Anyway, we better go back, lover boy. Your beloved and the others must have come out by now,” T.J said. Magnus saw the blush on Halfborn’s cheeks darken with every nod to his crush. He would have felt bad for the boy if he wasn’t enjoying this so much.

Meanwhile, in our universe in the Slytherin locker rooms, Mallory was having a very similar conversation with the two metamorphmagus siblings.

“Um, Alex, Sam? Could I talk with you for a moment?” Mallory asked as her friends were gathering up their things to leave. Most players had left by now and the sweat-smelling room was empty but for them.

“Of course. What is it?” Sam asked.

“Okay, I’m going to tell you something but you have to swear not to make fun of me,” Mallory stated. She had hardly said what she wanted to and yet she was already blushing as red as her hair.

“Who, me? Make fun of you? Oh, why, I would never!” Alex said in mock offence, making his accent as obnoxious as possible and holding a hand in front of his mouth like a lot of his mother’s friends  would do (he always hated those ladies).

Mallory glared at Alex, clearly done with the green-haired boy’s bullshit. Sam rolled her eyes at her brother’s antics and turned to Mallory. “We won’t make fun of you, Mallory.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Alex said mater-of-fact-ly. Sam gave him a sharp elbow to the side. “Ouch! I was being honest!”

“I won’t make fun of you, and I’ll make sure to hit Alex if he does,” Sam corrected.

“These aren’t good terms for me,” Alex muttered, but his complaints went unheard as Mallory started talking.

“Okay, so remember when you said I have a crush on Halfborn?” The two siblings nodded. “You may… have been right.”

Mallory’s words may have been barely audible, but it was still enough for them to ring out in her friends ears. The smile that spread out on Alex’s face at that moment would have been enough to land him the role of the Cheshire Cat in any adaptation of Alice in Wonderland. Sam smiled like a mother proud that her child finally realized that it was being stupid and changed its ways.

“You know, if I was any less of a friend, I would tease you right now,” Alex said. “But I’m a great friend, so I won’t do that now that you told us about your crush on Halfborn.”

Mallory rolled her eyes with a grunt and sat down at the bench- though perhaps a better word for it would be ‘plopped down’ or slumped’.  “What am I gonna do?”

Alex and Sam exchanged glances, a silent ‘is she kidding us?’ passing between them. It was times like this that Mallory wish they wouldn’t do that. They were able to communicate well even without speaking and it kinda freaked her out (even though she knew she did the same with her own siblings).

“You ask him out?” Sam asked. Mallory knew for a fact the unspoken ‘duh’ at the start of her question would have been much more evident were this Alex asking. That wasn’t the case with Sam, who was nicer about it.

“Yeah, but…” a string of incomprehensible grunts and gurgles left Mallory’s mouth as she tried to explain what she wanted to say. “I’m embarrassed!” she finally relented, throwing her head back in frustration.

“Wow, she actually admitted it,” Alex mused as he looked at his friend.

“I want to do something, but I don’t know how!” Mallory said. “And I know that if I wait until after Christmas I’ll chicken out!”

Sam sighed and sat down next to Mallory. “Okay, calm down. It’s not all bad. You can ask him out before you leave and you can have your date after you come back.”

“Yeah, she’s right!” Alex proclaimed, having come up with an idea. “You can do it when we’re exchanging presents!”

Mallory bit at her lip anxiously. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’ll be great!”Alex egged her on. “And we’ll be there to support you. It’s going to be fine unless you don’t, like, throw up on his shoes.” Alex seemed thoughtful for a moment before she said, “Now that I think about it, you might not want to eat before you ask him. Just to be on the safe side.”

Sam sent Alex an annoyed glare, at which the boy just shrugged. It was valid advice.

Mallory sighed and got up, thought she looked so exhausted it was as if she had just run a marathon. “Anyway, we better get going. The others must be waiting for us.”

They were, or rather, he was. When the three Quidditch players left the locker rooms, the only one waiting for them outside was Conall, who stood awkwardly against the wall. He was trying (and failing) to spin his wand with his fingers like T.J would often do. The three roommates happened to walk out just when his wand fell from his hands again and he bend down to retrieve it, cussing under his breath (though, knowing Conall, his cussing was most probably things like ‘darn it’ and ‘so of a biscuit’, Alex thought).

“Hey, Conall. Where are the others?” Alex asked. The Ravenclaw boy snapped up so fast it was a wonder he didn’t lose his balance and fall over.

“Alex!” His cheeks were red and Alex found it typical for the boy (and kinda cute, though he refused to dwell on that one too long) to be embarrassed he was caught falling to do something as simple as spin a wand.

“Uh, Halfborn wanted to talk with them about something, so I stayed here to wait for you,” the boy explained. “Oh, um… great game today. You did great. Y-you all did great!”

Alex smiled at the compliment -and at the fact that Conall’s freckles made him look like a strawberry when he blushed. It was strangely endearing. “Thank you.”

It was then that Magnus, T.J and Halfborn reared from behind the side of the locker rooms. There was a flush to Halfborn’s cheeks and he wore a similar tired expression as Mallory. Alex assumed he had tired himself out cheering for them. The boy really did go over board when it came to Quidditch.

“Oh, you came out!” T.J said when he saw his sweaty Slytherin friends. “Come on, we better get going, we don’t want to miss dinner.”

~~~~~~~

The next day, the last day the majority of students would be still be at Hogwarts, the table 19 gang was in the library. Snow fell outside the window, small specks of white touching the ground and covering it in a thick white blanket that looked too soft to be made out of ice. Magnus could remember clearly when he was a child and hadn’t seen snow up close, how he thought it must be soft and fluffy. With his intelligent five-year-old brain, Magnus had come up with the brilliant plan of flopping down on a mountain of snow like he would if it was a bed.

Yes, Magnus had been a stupid child.

The group of friends was gathered around one of the tables by the windows that overlooked the Quidditch field. It was covered in snow now too and it amazed Magnus how just yesterday it was clear enough to play. Then again, the weather was known to be unpredictable around this time of year and it wasn’t as if it had never suddenly snowed this much before.

Magnus recognized the view from the window. They had somehow decided to sit at the table Magnus had been sitting at last year, when Professor Hearthstone came to talk to him about his mother – well, the teacher hadn’t known it was about his mother at the time. It seemed a weird coincidence that they choose to sit here to exchange their presents, yet the familiar table didn’t leave a bitter taste in Magnus’ mouth.

At least, not a lot. His mother’s death still hurt him a lot at times, but he was getting better at copping with it and he now knew he could go to others for comfort instead of dealing with it all on his own.

“Okay, who’s gonna go first?” Alex asked. She was practically bouncing where she stood and she had a wide smile on her face like, well, like a child on Christmas morning.

“Me!” T.J raised his hand high, like he was trying to get a teachers attention because they were blind as a bat and he clearly knew the answer, unlike all the other dumb students.

T.J reached out in his backpack and pulled out small packages he gave to his friends. Inside them were small bubbleheads of their favorite Quidditch players for Mallory, Halfborn and Alex, a beautiful blue headscarf with colorful designs on it for Sam and a small tadris for Magnus. When the blonde opened its little door experimentally, it was like he had opened a duffel back instead of a keychain sized blue police box.

“Is this like Professor Blitzen’s bags?” Magnus asked excitedly. His fanboy was coming through, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. This was so cool!

“Yep! I found it in a thrift store and thought you’d like it.”

“Why would anyone ever throw away something like this?” Magnus asked in genuine confusion as he cradled the small gift in his hands.

“Your fanboy is showing,” Alex said, barely holding back a laugh.

“I don’t care.”

The next one to give out their gifts was Sam, who handed each one a box or a bag. She might not celebrate Christmas, obviously, but her friends always felt weird to give presents to everyone else but her, so she ended up receiving gifts too. It only felt right to return the favor.

In Alex’s bag was a pink and green argyle sweater, which she immediately put on and hugged it while it was on her body. “I’m never taking this off,” she muttered, just a bit psychotically. Magnus thought it was equally amusing and adorable.

Mallory’s gift was a cute little bracelet with little charms on it that looked like brooms and Quidditch balls. There was a Snitch dangling from it too, painted in gold metallic paint to look like an actual Snitch and not something made out of plastic.

Halfborn’s gift was several of those cool fireworks they played with on the Hogsmeade visit from before Halloween. T.J unwrapped his gift to find it was a thick book- a mystery novel if the title was anything to go by. “Oh, nice,” he said  before immediately flipping the book over so he could read the synopsis. Inside Magnus’ bag was also a book and Magnus recognized it as a horror novel he’s been meaning to read.

Next was Halfborn with another book for T.J, an ugly sweater with the Doctor on it for Magnus, a box that screamed bloody murder if you opened it without tapping the correct rhythm on its lid first for Alex, a book on brooms and flying spells for Sam and a Valkyries shirt for Mallory.

“Oh mu god, this is amazing!” Mallory exclaimed when she realized what her gift was. “This is great! Oh, my sister will be so jealous!”

Magnus gave his presents next. He was close to giggling as he handed each of his friends their gifts and they noticed. They opened their bags with caution, as they should because inside their bags were some of the ugliest Christmas sweaters they had ever seen.

Sam’s was plain hideous, with a giant reindeer stitched on it and a perturbing red nose that glistened. Mallory’s had a Christmas tree on it with multicolored fuzzy balls stitched on its branches and the colored clashed terribly. T.J’s had Jesus on it with balloons around him and a shirt that read ‘Birthday Boy’. Alex’s had a scowling Grumpy Cat wearing a Santa hat on it and the word ‘NO’ written in Christmas lights bellow it. Halfborn’s was simple designs in red and white and three reindeers having a threesome right in the middle.

“Seriously?” Alex asked. It wasn’t clear whether she found the sweaters funny or atrocious and Magnus thought it was safe to assume a bit of both.

“Yep. I got one too!” He pulled out another sweater and this one had Darth Vader on it wearing a Santa hat. ‘I find your lack of cheer disturbing” was written underneath. “I plan to wear it around Professor Blitzen to annoy him.”

The other teens silently prayed for their Charms teacher. He would probably have an aneurism if he had to see these sweaters for too long.

Next was Alex, who handed out bags to each of her friends. She looked so excited to be giving them their gifts that her friends were scarred to open their gifts. Please let it not be more ugly sweaters, Mallory prayed before opening her bag.

It wasn’t more ugly sweaters, thank goodness, but rather a hat and a scarf. The same thing was in each of their bags, only the design and color of them changing between each friend.

“I knitted you scarves and hats!” Alex said enthusiastically. “I don’t know how to make gloves yet, though.”

“You made this?” Mallory asked as she held up her gifts. “They’re amazing!”

They were, even more so because Alex had made them herself. She watched her friends try on her creations and turn them around in her hands, feeling the yarn. Magnus was pulling lightly at the sides of the scarf to see how the yarn was woven together and he looked strangely like a kitten. Sam tuned the hat in her hands before rubbing it against her face- Alex couldn’t blame her, she had used a fluffy yarn. It was like touching clouds.

And last one to give out their gifts was Mallory. Inside the bags she handed each of her friends were sweatshirts. They looked pretty mundane until they actually pulled them out. Each and every one of them had a pun on it and the letters or little images moved on the fabric.

Alex’s was dark green, the same green as her Slytherin tie, and the word “Can I Slytherin?” were typed on it in silver letters. There was even a small snake underneath that winked at them.  Sam’s said “I’m a wizard, don’t talk to me” with little sparks going on and off around the words. T.J’s was blue with a wand that was going back and forth and the words “Is that a wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” above it. Magnus’ was Hufflepuff yellow with a cute little bagger on it and the words “Everyday I’m Huffling!”

“ Oh, this is great!” Magnus said as he held the shirt against of his body to see if it would fit him.

Halfborn was the only one who hadn’t gotten a gift. Mallory handed him his bag, but there was something hesitant in the way she did it. Her eyes were looking anywhere, everywhere, except at the boy next to her and her cheeks were flushed pink. Halfborn was confused by her behavior a bit, but didn’t question it, instead opening the bag to pull out another shirt and –

“Oh my God!” Halfborn exclaimed when he saw that his gift was the Berserkers shirt he had tried on back before Halloween on their Hogsmeade visit. What’s more, there was a black scribble near the bottom that Halfborn realized was the player’s signature.

“I, um, remembered how you said you would like to buy this shirt, so I thought it was a good present idea,” Mallory muttered, never looking Halfborn straight in the eye. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! Oh, this is amazing!” In his excitement, Halfborn reached out and hugged Mallory tight. The poor girl almost died from all the blood that rushed to her face. Thankfully, the hug didn’t last long because Halfborn quickly realized what he had done and let Mallory go as his cheeks burned red.

“Um, this is really cool.”

“Y-you’re welcome,” Mallory managed to get out, even thought she looked this close to having a seizure. “Oh, um, I think there’s still a note in there.”

Halfborn looked down into the bag and saw the note Mallory was referring to lying in its bottom. He pulled it out and unfolded the creased paper. In Mallory’s neat, fancy handwriting (that Halfborn had a bit of trouble making out) was written “Would you like to go on a date with me once we come back to school after Christmas?”

Mallory had rehearsed how to ask him out in her head, but she never felt comfortable with what she came up with and she was to afraid she’d mess up to actually get a word out. She felt silly for having to resort to something as childish as asking him via note, but at least she didn’t die while asking. (That said, it took her twenty seven drafts before she actually put the note in his present.)

Yet those few moments it took Halfborn to figure out what she had written on the paper (he had told her time and again he couldn’t make out her writing easily) were absolute torture to Mallory. Did he think she was joking? Did he think she was silly or a coward for sending him a note instead of telling him? Was he not speaking because he was trying to find a way to let her down easy?

Mallory was snapped out of her thoughts when Halfborn cleared his throat. “I was meaning to ask you that, actually. I’d really like to.”

Mallory’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? That’s, um, that’s good. Should I sent you an owl during the holidays so we can figure out when we’re – we’re going to do that project?”

Mallory was only able to save it at the last minute, but Halfborn still seemed very confused about what was happening. He opened his mouth to ask her what she meant when she sent a sideways glance to their friends. Sam and Alex might know that Mallory was asking Halfborn out, but she didn’t want to put up with Magnus and T.J teasing her too.

“Ah, yeah,” Halfborn said, understanding what Mallory was doing. “I’ll send you a letter about our project.”

“What is your project on?” Magnus asked cheekily. Halfborn wanted to punch him at that moment.

“It’s for Potions,” Alex said with an equally smug face. “It’s on love potions.”

Honestly, these two could be such little shits sometimes they should just get together (or maybe not, they would be an even worse combo).

Mallory might have been extremely happy about finally asking out Halfborn, but she silently vowed that one day she would pay back the green haired girl with her own coin.

[creamhy]

2016 is over (warning: this is a long ass post)

okay so I’ve been in a bit of a funk recently and whenever this happens just explaining it on this crazy site makes me process my thoughts. So 2016 was one of the worst years that I’ve experienced (mind you, I haven’t really experienced a lot yet), but there were definitely some really good parts, and I still kind of need to reflect on everything.

All in all, my senior year was pretty shitty. The whole year I basically had one friend that I actually went out with, had a terrible job, and everyone seemed to be making memories about finishing high school and I didn’t, but hey, at least my grades were great. 

Family/Friends: My family has its ups and downs like any other but we all love each other and throughout this year family was something that remained pretty good despite all the negative things that occurred. Friendships on the other hand weren’t fabulous. Despite sticking with my friendship group for all of 2015 I never got close with anyone in it and decided to move groups a few weeks before school ended in 2016; the new group accepted me, but I knew after school was over I wasn’t going to keep in touch. Basically the last couple of years have been pretty lonely since I’ve practically had no close friends, but it’s given me time to focus on myself and work on projects. Now that I’ve graduated I feel like it’s put everything into a perspective that I would have never predicted would happen - it’s incredibly difficult to explain. I’ve realised that because of social media it’s incredibly easy to reconnect with people if you make the tiniest effort. Because I have to make an effort to keep in touch with people, I’ve actually gotten closer with some of my younger friends who I’d actually like to stay in contact with, but I’d never have thought to organise to go out with when we saw each other in school. And all through high school I literally never met boys lol so no good or bad things there. Another thing. Throughout high school, I have always struggled with the concept that I may not be my close friends’ close friend. Actually, I know I’m not. I am an introvert, I have a bit of social anxiety, I find that speaking to people face to face satisfies me enough, and I get anxious if I have to constantly text people, or have a lot of snapchat streaks. I’m not always on my phone, I don’t post on facebook, but in this generation, the people that I would consider close friends probably have 30 messenger tabs open and haven’t messaged me in a month, maybe because I haven’t messaged them in a month, but on my screen they are the second last person I talked to. I know it all comes down to making an effort but if you aren’t that kind of a person, it makes it really hard, and I found that in 2016 I felt pretty damn friendless because of it.

Work: I had been working at my first job since mid 2015 and honestly I hated it - mainly because of the people. Anyway - my boss basically did everything she could to make me quit until I did. But I’m so glad it happened because I got a Christmas Casual job straight after leaving and I love it so much and I love the people even more. I’m just worried because it probably won’t last.

Music: All throughout high school the only ‘leadership’ position I had ever wanted was music captain. I was known as the music kid, and my favourite memories from school involve the music groups I was a part of - I always felt like it was a lot more important to me than it was to other people. Anyway, they picked another girl for the position (there was a lot of up roar about it- you couldn’t even begin to understand how unreasonable their decision was) and in turn made me make it my last priority and not enjoy my time there, because I was oh so bitter about the entire situation. Also, I declined an offer to be a part of one musical because I decided I wanted to be a part of another, and then when I auditioned I didn’t even get in (they looked for dancers, not singers), when all of my friends did. In the long run I’m glad I didn’t do a musical in senior year but fuck, them not wanting me really really affected me. (Music Captain on the other hand - I’m still incredibly sour about). But I was a part of SHEP and I got a solo and that was fun, being a part of the school’s singing quartet was still fun and the grade 11s that I sat with in choir were some of the best people I’ve hung out with. Oh and I came second in the school talent contest singing/playing one of my favourite songs. (I came in with adele as my first high school music performance 5 years ago, and went out with adele as my final performance). Also, I’ve figured out a way to keep doing music throughout uni while not having it as a career - and I’ve just bought myself a new piano so I can finally start doing what I love!

Being a Senior: Senior Year - the year of lasts. I remember one of my new years resolutions from the start of the year was to make memories with friends but those memories just didn’t come. No crazy parties, no schoolies, and all my expectations did were make me feel like I was missing out - which I was. All throughout 11th grade my school ensured every student, no matter whether they got a leadership position or not, that they could still be involved in making decisions and everything. That couldn’t have been more false. Unlike plenty of other seniors, I didn’t really even get to experience being a senior in its entirety. I wasn’t a part of teaching the school cheers, running house events or anything - and it felt crap in those moments (though I got better grades because of it, probably). I just didn’t get those “senior moments” until the very end of the year, when it was all over. My formal also wasn’t amazing but wasn’t bad - idk. As the final weeks of year 12 approached, it finally started to feel like this was it. I had my last choir rehearsal, my final music concert, my final classes, my final home group and I saw a lot of people for the last time at the senior farewell. It was incredibly bitter sweet, but I have a lot of good memories of those few lasts.

Mental Health & Putting Things in Perspective: There were two days in my senior year that honestly changed everything. Rather than have a camp, the seniors at my school slept over at the school for a ‘retreat.’ I have anxiety, and jeez, at this retreat, it affected me a lot. Firstly, we were sorted into groups of 12, which was great, because I wasn’t put with anyone from my group and I saw this as my final opportunity to switch into another group - which made my anxiety levels soar through the roof because of the pressure. The whole point of the retreat was basically to give other people compliments (”affirmations”). Everyone had an envelope that people stuck notes in throughout the retreat. I hated thinking about it, because at this point in the year the people I talked to the most would talk to heaps of other people more often than they would chat to me, and thought I was getting none. The first sign of anxiety spiked in a similar way that it has at every single camp/school trip I have ever been on - I would feel embarrassed or like I had drawn attention to myself. There was a meditation exercise, I stopped paying attention and when it was finished they called out groups to get up one by one. Basically, I stood up at the wrong time and started walking off, then realised and sat back down. Mind you, only a couple of people noticed but it triggered it. So the next hour or so we did an activity and the whole time I was on the verge of breaking down and having a panic attack, but somehow I kept it together and just let my stomach twist in knots and knots. This lasted basically the whole day - we did an activity in the group where we said what we admire about one another - and the whole time, again, I was on the verge of breaking down for basically no reason at all. Before dinner I managed to get away on my own, and I had an anxiety attack, and then some of my friends (old group) looked after me kind of. It just made me feel worse because I was trying to convince myself that they weren’t the right friends for me, but they were also the only ones who noticed what happened. So I picked myself back up, but the following day the anxiety came right back because we were opening our envelopes. I was already emotional because I’d had ‘friends’ come up to me and see if I was okay, apologise for not being there, etc (it was another exercise run by the retreat). So I looked through my “affirmations” and (not including the people in our group of 12 that had to write one) I only had 4 (I wrote ones for over 30 people - it pretty much confirmed I was leaving my group since none of them thought of me), where most people had between 15-50 (there were 250 girls at the retreat.) Only one of them was from a person I expected to get one from, because she had always been really nice to me. Two of them I weren’t expecting, but they were from people I often talk to so they were just a nice surprise - I had also written them one. And the final affirmation that I looked at took me completely by surprise (I had also written one for her but we had never really been friends) and, even though it was messily scrawled in pencil and wasn’t long and meaningful, it meant a lot to me, because it meant that this person thought of me, out of the 250 girls, as one of the people to write something nice about. Now by this point I was an emotional wreck because all this anxiety had been building and building until it all just came pouring out of me. After thanking the other 3, I went up to her and she thanked me for hers as well - she could tell that I was crying because I was just thankful and relieved because I honestly thought I wouldn’t get any - and she just gave me a big hug and said, “You are loved.” Then a bunch of the people I wrote affirmations for came up, thanked me and gave me a hug as well. That one girl thinking of me has stuck with me to this day, so much so that on the day of graduation I went and thanked her again. She made me rethink my perspective on friendships. Throughout high school, there were three girls that I had grown apart from, but whose friendships basically affected me the way falling in love with a guy and breaking up would. One of these girls was my best friend since 2005, but I obviously wasn’t one of hers still, another was the first ever friend I made in high school and who to this day is the one person that I have clicked with the most out of anyone I have ever met and the final was a girl that I pretty much ‘fell in friendship love” with at the start of high school. None of these girls thought of me. It made me finally accept that they had other people, and that sure, maybe ask them to catch up for coffee once or twice but they’re never going to feel the same way about you as you feel about them, even if they did before. This year I get to make a fresh start at uni, and I’m excited to wipe my friendship slate clean and start over - only catching up rarely with friends from high school. This year my mental illness has been all over the place honestly - there was a period where I was sad (I’m not diagnosed with depression so I’m not assuming anything) for months at a time, and at the moment I’m getting anxiety a lot, but I’m trying to push through it and I haven’t had an anxiety attack in quite a while.

Grades and What the Future Holds: So my grades were probably the best thing about my senior year. I finally got to prove a lot of people wrong. Throughout our final two years of school we get predictions as to what our final result will be. Where I’m from, we call it an OP - you receive a number between 1 and 25, 1 being the best and 25 being the worst (e.g. you need a 1 to become a doctor or vet, and a 9 to become a nurse). In 11th grade, I was predicted a 4-6, then at the beginning of senior year, I was predicted a 3-5, and then halfway through senior year, I was predicted a 2-4. In grade 12 I finally got my shit together with school work (in grade 10-11 I handed in assignments late, rescheduled every other exam and was way too stressed), I didn’t stress, I didn’t study too much by any means (I was basically just organised which meant that even if I hadn’t completed all the homework set, when it came to the night before an exam I knew exactly what I needed to do) and I got exactly the marks and OP I was aiming for. I duxed my two favourite subjects (Math C and Accounting), came 3rd in Math B, and placed in the top 6 for the other two subjects that counted towards my exit result. I was so proud of myself - because those placements are within a cohort of 250 girls. I got the best mark possible on the QCS test (it’s a test all senior students where I’m from have to do, which is basically an general knowledge test that determines how smart your school’s cohort is) and I ended up getting an OP 2, which means I’m in the top 6-7% of students in the whole of my state. Then I got offered an academic scholarship to the university that was my first preference, to study the course that was also my first preference (Accounting and Mathematics, incase you couldn’t tell from my favourite subjects hahaha). However, at the moment I seem to have got myself into a bit of a funk. You see, the past 12+ years of my life this has been my goal. This is what I’ve been working towards for as long as I can remember and I finally achieved it. This is where my (incredibly minuscule) dilemma begins. I had decided years ago what I wanted to study at university, but I still don’t know exactly what job I want to get after my course. So right now I don’t have a set goal, for one of the first times in my life, and I’m slightly worried to be honest. Hopefully I’ll figure out what job I want within the next two years. 

Basically, the year ended on a high because of my exit result and scholarship, and although I’m certainly not a social butterfly at this point, I know I’m going to make a bunch of friends at uni and stay in touch with a few girls that I liked talking to during my time at high school. At the moment I would say I am pretty happy, so that’s good.

So, 2016, you have contained a heck load of ups and downs, but now you are finally done and dusted, and although I’m kind of shit scared about being thrown into a completely different situation this year at uni, not being a school student for the first time since I was 4, I’m ready. Bring it on 2017.

[discoverthebook]

BC&D-26 DOES GOD'S SPIRIT FLOW THROUGH YOU LIKE A MIGHTY RIVER? The Lord God of the Universe wants to Arrange your life and Accompany your trip through life and authorize everything needed from now on. Wow, that is the best life there is. SPIRIT-OVERFLOWING LIVES. Jesus explained the Holy Spirit in our lives by using the image of a strong river of water flowing out of us. Let us turn there to John 7.37-38. Rivers of water is the way Jesus describes the normal life of believers, His children. o Rivers of water would mean that when we were saved He flowed out of our lives making us joyous and thankful. o He flowed out of our lives making us so excited about all our sins being gone. o He flowed out of our lives so that when we read the Bible it seemed just like God was talking to us.  And each day it seemed like all of life was brand new. And that is life as God made it to be with that mighty river of water flowing out of our lives. We were refreshed, we were victorious, we were rejoicing, we were serving joyfully. The Holy Spirit was flowing through our new lives like the rivers of water that flowed in that new house of ours. That is the life of a believer as God intended it to be. Years ago through the love, prayers, and hard work of so many friends we moved into the very first new home of our lives. It was fantastic, especially considering the size of our family. o The bathtub was the size of our old plastic swimming pool, and easily held all three of the little buddies and all their toys in an ocean of warm water. In fact, the water roared out of that new plumbing with a roar and flow that sounded an awful lot like the Niagara Falls. It seemed the water lines into our house were enlarged and very strong. o And the shower. Whew, what an experience. Hot and strong came that flow. It was almost like we had built the house over Old Faithful the geyser. Just turn the handle and POW, out came the waterfall. What a shower. But something happened one day the week before our first Christmas here in Tulsa. Bonnie noticed that the washer slowed down day by day until it took all day to just do one load. . At first, it was a bother and then as the toilets, bathtubs, and washers slowed to nearly a stop. We were horrified, our new home was ruined, it was broken plumbing we thought. In 15 minutes he arrived whistling and still smiling. While we wrung our hands showing him all the terrible non-functioning appliances and fixtures – he just smiled. And then after all our grief and disappointment at our new home was all spilled out he said to follow him. He walked to our coat closet a.k.a under stairs tornado closet a.k.a. kids hideaway and knelt down chuckling. He asked, “Do you have any two or three-year-olds that play in here?” In a moment he stood and said, go try the shower. We ran and voila, Niagara Falls was back. He opened his hand and there was the small road shut off valve handle that one of our precious buddies had been slowly turning bit by bit each day until the rivers of water into our home were choked, quenched and closed out of the house. Why am I giving you the My Old House show? Because the experience of the water slowly getting choked out of our home is so clearly a picture of what happens so often to so many believers! Jesus talked about such a strong flow of water in a spiritual sense. Let us turn there to John 7.37-38. Rivers of water is the way Jesus describes the normal life of believers, His children. And that is life as God made it to be with that mighty river of water flowing out of our lives. We were refreshed, we were victorious, we were rejoicing, we were serving joyfully. The Holy Spirit was flowing through our new lives like the rivers of water that flowed in that new house of ours. That is the life of a believer as God intended it to be. Then slowly something happened. It seemed that we didn’t find God’s Word so exciting, and soon we hardly understood what we read each day. We also experienced troubles in prayer, it seemed we talked to ourselves and all those words just bounced around inside our heads. That is exactly what happens when the water valve of our spiritual lives is twisted shut by sin. And that is what the Bible describes as Quenching and Grieving the Holy Spirit. We are let with the command to keep our lives filled with the Holy Spirit. We are to walk in Him, live through Him, bear fruit by Him, and overcome sin with Him as our Sword of the Word. For all of our earthly life, it is God’s Holy Spirit that is our lifeline for all that we need to make it. Because of this vital supply line that we share with Him, we must protect our relationship. We must not hinder the Holy Spirit in our lives. (BC&D-26) For more of Dr. John Barnett's Bible teaching messages go to: https://discoverthebook.org/

[scottkkruegerny]

4 Reasons A Fire Pit Will Help Make Your Season Bright

It is often the simple additions to a home that makes people happy. Something as simple and easy as a natural stone fire pit kit may help create a dream home for some people. If your home does not have a fire pit already, you are missing out on a great experience. The sight of a roaring fire on your patio or in your backyard brings a pleasant ambiance on a cool afternoon or evening and is worth experiencing.

People have always sat around fireplaces to keep warm, chat, play games, and even cook foods or treats. The benefits and possibilities are many and in this little article, we’ll list just a few of them. The following are some of the reasons why having a fire pit will help in brightening your holiday season.

1. Learning Moments for Kids

Many people don’t really consider this one when contemplating building a fire pit. Kids bring joy to the home, and it is essential for every parent to ensure that their children learn essential skills as they grow.

It is important to note that kids learn the most when they are excited about something. Adding a fire pit for your home is a sure way to excite your kids! It can provide them with a chance to learn how to cook foods while you get the opportunity to impart other life skills to them. You can teach them about how to start and safely tend a fire, as well as common fire safety rules.

2. Opportunity for an Amazing Date Night

Romantic gestures ignite love and strengthen the bond between a couple. Having a romantic fire pit area in your backyard where you and your loved one can curl up and engage in comfy conversations can be very romantic. You can also easily impress your partner with this not-so-ordinary gesture, compared to going out to the typical date destinations.

3. Perfect for an Evening Party

Hosting a Christmas or New Year’s party in your home is one of the ways that you can have a lot of fun this holiday season. Or you can host a great outdoor party at many other times of the year, too.  Having a fire pit is a great addition to any party, especially if you plan for some snacks around it. Plus, you can even choose a natural gas fire pit kit that is controlled with the simple use of a switch so you won’t have to worry about managing the fire. Just turn on the fire and have a great party.

4. Makes Your Home More Attractive

Adding a natural stone fire pit to your outdoor space will make the entire look both rustic and elegant. It’s the reason why most real estate companies now recommend making it a common feature in most homes. That mesmerizing feeling that it creates is a factor that can help attract buyers. When done well, It will also add more market value to your home.

Conclusion

Purchasing a stone fire pit kit for your patio or backyard space is a perfect investment to help make this holiday season bright. It will help you create memories with family and friends, and that’s what makes life worth living. It is important to always work with a professional company when planning to add a fire pit so that you get the best product in the market and quality service. 

Southwest Stone Supply is the fire pit kit supply company for you. Our kits are easy to assemble and we can deliver anywhere in the lower 48 states, so your natural stone fire pit kit will come directly to your home!

Check out our Pyzique Fire Pit kits and our pre-packaged square Maytrx Fire Pit kits.

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If you like this article, here are some others you may enjoy:

4 Fire Pit Ideas for Outdoor Living Fun

Bring Your Evenings to Life with a Fire Table

Warm up with a Fire Pit: Why It’s the Perfect Winter Project

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