#keep in mind since i did this in august none of the more recent raine stuff i knew at the time

[soni-dragon]

Look it I found an old animatic I made for that one raeda drawing I did back in august, the drawings are pretty messy but I wanted to share it somewhere

[bbyx]

ripple effect - part three

Summary: During her fourth year at Hogwarts, (y/n) Deauxville falls for none other than Cedric Diggory. But it's not easy when you have to deal with protecting your family's fortune, keeping your father's illness a secret and having two of your closest friends catch feelings for you.

Pairings : reader x cedric, reader x draco, reader x harry

With help from some of the Ministry's interns, your tent was finally up. It was lilac purple with a beautiful satin finish. Walking inside always took your breath away just because of the sheer size of the tent. It smelt brand new and didn't have that homey feeling like the Weasley's tent but it would do for a couple nights.

(y/n) plops down on the bed. She opens up and rereads the letter that Minister Fudge had sent her father two months ago. You had started reading your dad's mail and answering for him since he was no longer capable of doing it himself. Your father had a very formal way of writing so it had been easy enough to imitate his handwriting to answer the Minister's letter.

You open the creamy beige envelope and pull out a sturdy white letter with gold embellishments. It reads:

Dear (f/n),                                                                                                                  I hope this letter is finding you in good health. I've heard that you have recently been traveling Europe in search of new properties. Barty and myself were wondering if you would be so kind as to join us for a meeting during the Quidditch World cup. The time is nearing and we must finalize the deal.  Looking forward to seeing you,                                                                                                                                Cornelius

You tried remembering what you wrote in the answering letter. It went something like this.

Dear Cornelius,                                                                                                         I am currently in Romania for business and I unfortunately will not be back in time for the Quidditch World Cup. However i've left my daughter (y/n) in charge of my business affairs while I am away and she would be delighted to join you. Barty and yourself can finalize the deal with her.  Wishing you the best,                                                                                                                                             (f/n)

Your father had started a real estate company when he was twenty four and it had grown into one of the most successful businesses in the wizarding world and in Britain. You assumed that the Minister and Barty Crouch wanted to buy a property but you didn't know anything further. It was a very secretive affair and you had searched your father's files extensively but there was no mention of this mysterious deal anywhere. You were essentially going in blind.

The meeting was going to be over dinner in the Minister's box during the Quidditch Match. (y/n) had time to kill so she walked back to the Weasley's tent.

You arrive just in time to see the Weasley twins and Ludo Bagman betting on the games.

"Personally I have to agree with Mr.Bagman, my money is on Bulgaria winning" You tease and the twins shake their ginger heads.

You hear sirens that signal the stadium has opened. You head over with your friends. The inside of the Quidditch stadium is just as breathtakingly festive as the outside. Red and green coats everything, it is filled with headshots of various Quidditch players and drunken voices singing national anthems.

"Blimey how far up are we dad!" Rom complains.

"Well, put it this way, if it rains you'll be the first to know." You turn towards the familiar cold posh voice. Lucius Malfoy.

You had grown up with the Malfoy's and practically spent half your childhood at their house. Narcissa has become a second mother to you after your own mother's death. (y/n) had her suspicions that her parents and the Malfoy's were hoping their children would get married but (y/n) cringed at the idea. It wasn't that you didn't like Draco but your relationship was more like cousins. He was like that one favourite cousin everyone has that makes all family gatherings fun. But you couldn't stand the snobby facade Draco put on whenever he was around other people. Like now.

"Father and I are in the minister's box. A personal invitation from Cornelius Fudge himself."

"Don't boast, Draco" Lucius says while nudging him with his cane. " There is no need with these people."

You rolled your eyes so hard it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

"Ah miss Deauxville, I believe you'll be joining us in the Minister' box." Lucius says in a respectful tone.

You hated how he talked to your friends like they were lower than you. Lucius nudges Draco with his cane and Draco immediately offers you his arm. You look back at the trio and mouth help me as you take Draco's arm.

"Have fun" Hermione says sarcastically.

The Minister's box is filled with house elves carrying trays of little delicacies and wizards and witches dressed in overly formal clothing. You immediately felt underdressed in your sweater and tennis skirt. But to your delight you could see the sweat glistening off their skin, after all it was still mid August.

A curly haired blonde woman in a ridiculously tight plum dress and green glasses walks over to Mr. Malfoy.

" Ah Lucius, darling, I see Draco has brought his little girlfriend along." She sneers at you, clearly not recognizing you. However you knew exactly who this was, Rita Skeeter, a slimy idiotic gossip columnist with worms for a brain.           " Hope she enjoys this once in a lifetime opportunity to dine with such fine people."

You feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Miss Deauxville, so glad you could make it. The Minister would like to talk in his private room."

Rita Skeeter's face blanched when she realised you were a Deauxville and you follow Barty Crouch through a curtain into a smaller room with a round table and a huge window.

Seated at the table was Minister Fudge, you took a seat just as the team mascots stepped out on the field. The beautiful Bulgarian veelas danced on the field while the Irish leprechauns bounded with their gold, this angered the veelas who in turn transformed into demon-like bird creatures. The teams stepped out on the field, national anthems were played and the snitch was released.

"Well let's get this over with quickly so we have a chance to enjoy the game" You say.

Cornelius Fudge starts.

"Yes, yes well as I'm sure your father mentioned, the Ministry would like to lease a property for a couple months."

Just then Percy walks in holding a stack of papers.

"Here are the papers you asked for Mr.Crouch." He says importantly.

"Ah thank you Weatherby. You may go now."

You almost choke trying to stifle your laugh, earning a glare from Percy as he leaves. Mr Crouch hands you a stack of papers.

" The contract." He simply states. You're too distracted to notice the house elves bring the meal to the table.

You take your time to look it over for any loopholes. Normally your father would have his team of lawyers draw up his own contracts but this would do.

"You want to lease lot number 637? The two acres in the Black Forest, next to Hogwarts? You're sure?"

"Yes" The Minister replied looking uncomfortable.

"There are a few modifications we would like to do to this property." Barty Crouch cuts in.

"What kind of modifications?" You ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well first we would like to cut most of the trees off"

You squawk.

"What! You realise that property will lose all value without the trees."

"Indeed but the ministry is prepared to compensate you for the trees and any fire damage." Mr.Fudge adds.

"Fire damage! What on earth are you planning on doing there!" You blurt out, you're voice rising several octaves.

" Miss Deauxville, we would tell you if we could, trust us it would make this so much easier, but unfortunately you are still a Hogwarts student and therefore we regretfully have to keep our lips sealed."

You decide to let it go. After all your father had done plenty of suspicious deals before he fell ill.

"How much are you offering?"

"370 000 galleons for eight weeks" Barty answers. You knew that property in the middle of the Black Forest was essentially worthless because of the aggressive centaurs that lived around it. They were offering a lot more money than expected so you quickly grabbed your pen and signed the contract. The two other men did the same. You got up to shake their hands and left the room.

(y/n) sat next to Draco and Lucius Malfoy for the remainder of the game. They made small talk but she couldn't focus on anything other than that property in the Black Forest.

Why the hell would the ministry be so eager to lease that dump? Why would there be fire damage? Why cut all the trees? Questions were swarming your mind like bees.

You look up when you hear the tremendous cheers coming from all the Irish fans. The game was over. You smile to yourself.

Those bloody Weasleys predicted it. Krum caught the snitch but Ireland won.

Both teams came up to the Minister's box to shake his hand. Everyone got up and clapped when the Irish team proudly walked in. The Bulgarian team stomped in with it's sulking seeker Victor Kum leading them. You started shaking hands with people you barely recognized just trying to get out of there as fast as possible. You shake Viktor Krum's hand and give him a warm smile, after all the guy had just lost the biggest game of the year, and he gave you a smile that never completely reached his eyes. Suddenly a bright flash blinds both of you. When you regain sight you see Rita Skeeter standing there with a camera.

"Beautiful photo" She says with the phoniest widest smile.

You finally join the Weasley clan and Cedric Diggory around a campfire later that night after the Malfoys had insisted that you have dinner with them.

"Where were you? I was getting worried. I mean. We. We were getting worried" Harry says quickly. The others give him strange looks.

"Stuck at a dinner with the Malfoy's." You sigh "If anyone mentions politics or the stock exchange one more time I will slit all your throats ok?" They all laugh and explain that they're playing truth or dare.

"Give me a dare! Give me a dare!" Ginny pleads.

"That's not how it works Ginny, you have to get picked." George explained.

"We've been playing for an hour and nobody's picked me !" She whines.

"Fine, eat this" Fred says, handing her a candy.

She pops it in her mouth and her tongue starts to swell enormously. She runs to find Mr.Weasley.

"She asked for it." Fred says, throwing his hands up.

They all keep playing, (y/n) not really paying attention. She was distracted by the Minister's words: "we would tell you if we could, trust us it would make this so much easier, but unfortunately you are still a Hogwarts student and therefore we regretfully have to keep our lips sealed."

"Cedric, truth or dare." George asks, smirking.

"Dare."

"Very well, your dare is to go ask one of those veelas on a date." He says pointing to a group of breathtaking creatures. You feel a pang of jealousy as Cedric gets up. Instead he comes and sits next to you.

" (y/n), how about a date?"

"Sure" You smile and turn red as George gets up, flailing his arms around..

"No no no. I said a Veela."

"George, are you a bloody idiot, everyone in Great Britain knows (y/n) is a quarter Veela." Hermione says.

Fred and George look at you puzzled.

"Really?" Asks Fred.

"Can you do that cool demon bird shit?" George looks at you suspiciously.

You laugh. "No! It would be kinda fun though if I could. But no, I can't turn into a bird or enchant men into falling hopelessly in love." You say making dramatic hand gestures.

" I don't know about that" Mumbles Harry. You shoot him puzzled looks.

As the night goes on the group keeps talking and playing various games. Your eyes start to feel heavy.

"I think I need to go to sleep." You mumble.

"You can always sleep with me." Fred purrs. Ron hits him with the back of his hand. Cedric's jaw stiffens as he glares at Fred. He looks like he's about to say something when Hermione cuts him off.

" I'll walk you back to your tent (y/n)"

You agree and say goodnight to everyone. As you're walking back you hear screams and see dark figures with masks levitating and torturing a muggle family. You and Hermione run towards the forest where you catch up with Ron and Harry. Ron trips. Lumos Hermione whispers and a bright glow appears on the tip of her wand.

You spot Draco leaning calmly against a tree close to you.

"Better go Hermione, unless you want to show everyone your underwear, if so stick around it would be tremendously funny" He sneers while gesturing to the levitating family.

How can he be so freaking calm when people are literally being tortured less than fifty feet away?

Harry and Ron start defending Hermione and question Draco about his parent’s whereabouts. Meanwhile, you're stuck in a trance watching the family of muggles being tortured and feeling helpless.

"Have it your way, Potter" Draco grins maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a mudblood, stay where you are"

Anger ripped through your body at the sound of those words and you were about to tear his vocal cords out and jinx him within an inch of his life when someone gently squeezes your hand.

"(y/n), let's go." Cedric says, his eyes pleading.

[camrensrealbish]

Camila’s spotify playlists 2015 part 1

I found Camila’s playlists recently and they definitely don’t get enough attention from us. There is so much valuable information there!! Ok, here we go..

2015

Let’s see what the songs are about and what was on August 2015 Camila’s mind. 

- You’re still the one by Shania Twain

When I first saw you, I saw love ----- from how Camila and Lauren described how they met, it was attraction from the first sight ---- And the first time you touched me, I felt love ----- but every touch is oh lalala (Señorita)---- And after all this time You're still the one I love, mmm, yeah

Looks like we made it Look how far we've come my baby We mighta took the long way ----- it took you 2 years to make up your mind (Should’ve said it)---- We knew we'd get there someday

They said, "I bet they'll never make it" But just look at us holding on We're still together still going strong

You're still the one I run to ----- I should be running, you keep me coming for you(Señorita) --- The one that I belong to You're still the one I want for life (You're still the one) You're still the one that I love The only one I dream of ---- all I do the whole day through is dream of you (Dream of you)---- You're still the one I kiss good night

Ain't nothin' better We beat the odds together I'm glad we didn't listen ----  My mama doesn't trust you, baby And my daddy doesn't know you, no (My oh my);  And papa says he got malo in him(Havana) ---- Look at what we’d missin’

- Kiss me by Sixpence None the Richer

Kiss me out of the bearded barley Nightly, beside the green, green grass Swing, swing, swing the spinning step You'll wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight Lead me out on the moonlit floor ---- Expectations MV---- Lift your open hand Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance ---- Burning, fire and dancing are everywhere in Lauren and Camila’s songs---- Silvermoon's sparkling So kiss me

- Fly with me by Jonas Brothers

If time was still The sun would never never find us ---- SUN!! We could light up The sky tonight ---- MOON!! I would see the world through your eyes ---- Camila is obsessed with Lauren’s, also “ When I look in your eyes / I see through to my soul” (No way)----- Leave it all behind

If it's you and me forever If it's you and me right now ----- All the strangers are gone (In the dark)----That'd be alright Be alright If we chase the stars to lose our shadows

Peter Pan and Wendy turned out fine ---- Camila loves Peter Pan, also Camren talking about Tinkerbell and Wendy in this interview ---- So won't you fly with me ---- Camila’s fairy wings and angel references in Romance ----

Maybe you were just afraid ---- Lauren had hard time admitting she’s attracted to women ---- Knowing you were miles away From the place where you needed to be And that's right here with me 

- Sweet disposition by Tamper Trap

-----Lauren’s tumblr name------

Sweet disposition Never too soon Oh, reckless abandon Like no one's watching you

A moment, a love A dream aloud A kiss, a cry  Our rights, our wrongs ----- the inconsistency of their relationship, expectations, moments - only having the nights for each other, not too many days off---- A moment, a love A dream aloud A moment, a love A dream, aloud

So stay there 'Cause I'll be coming over ----- I love it when you call me / you keep me coming (Señorita);  this love calling my name (This love) ---- And while our blood's still young It's so young, it runs And won't stop 'til it's over Won't stop to surrender

Songs of desperation I played them for you

- Drops of Jupiter by Train

Now that she's back in the atmosphere With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey She acts like summer and walks like rain --- loving you was sunshine, but then it poured (Consequences);  Will you be the sun or the pouring rain? (Who are you)----- Reminds me that there's a-time to change, hey, hey Since the return of her stay on the moon --- MOON She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey Hey, hey

But tell me Did you sail across the sun? ----SUN Did you make it to the Milky Way ---- All night MV ----- To see the lights all faded? And that Heaven is overrated?Tell me Did you fall from a shooting star --- I thank God and my lucky stars Darling, don't you know what you are? (Beautiful) ----

One without a permanent scar? ---- Everyone comes with scars but you can live them away (No way) ----

But tell me Did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day --- instead of just at night in secret?? ----

And head back to the Milky Way? And tell me, did Venus blow your mind? Was it everything you wanted to find? And did you miss me while you were Looking for yourself out there?

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken ---- Chickens!! :) ---- Your best friend always sticking up for you Even when I know you're wrong? Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance Five-hour phone conversation The best soy latte that you ever had, and me?

- I’ll be your man by James Blunt 

Too many voices, too many noises ---- Little voices in my head (consequences)----

Invisible wires keeping us apart --- management?---- So many choices, but they're all disappointments And they only seal me away from you

Climb into our own private bubble ----secret relationship --- Let's get into all kinds of trouble

Slide over here let your hands feel the way --- touch me till I find myself in a feeling (Easy)--- There's no better method to communicate --- Tell me with your hands slow (Living proof) --- Girl stop your talking words just get in the way ---  Baby, could you shut up? / 'Cause I don't need you to come up with excuses / I just need your eyes on me (Back to me)---- I'll be your man So baby come over from the end of the sofa --- this couch is getting smaller (Into it)---- I'll be your man, I'll be your man

So many faces, staring at their shoelaces When all anyone wants is to be seen So tonight let's be honest We only want to be wanted And darling you got me wanting you

What are we all looking for? Someone we just can't ignore it's Real love dripping from my heart You've got me tripping What are we all looking for?

- No air by Jordin Sparks

Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air?

If I should die before I wake It's 'cause you took my breath away Losing you is like living in a world with no air, oh ---- Losing you I couldn’t face but to love you is worse (This love) ---

I'm here alone, didn't wanna leave ----  Up in bed, all alone (Expectations)---- My heart won't move, it's incomplete Is there a way I could make you understand?

But how Do you expect me, to live alone with just me? 'Cause my world revolves around you It's so hard for me to breathe

I walked, I ran, I jumped, I flew right off The ground and float to you There's no gravity to hold me down, for real

But somehow I'm still alive inside You took my breath but I survived I don't know how but I don't even care

Camren supposedly broke up in the second half of 2015, but I think this song is not about this break up yet, since they were all added to the playlist on the same day.

 Expectations, consequences, In the dark, Real friends, This love, More than that can be related to this period. Read Karlaswine’s analysis of In the dark, some great insights there.

They probably got back together in the beginning of 2016. (Songs to fall in love to playlist from Feb 2016)

Conclusions

Every single song on this playlists has so many Camren references. They are all love songs except for the last one, so we can assume it was still ok in August 2015. I’m really suprised how much sun and moon Camila can find in other’s songs. Also these songs seem to fit her writing style and her vibe.

I’m gonna analyse the other playlists too and it gets interesting in the following years when she starts going back to songs from 2015 2016 in e.g 2018 ---> Camren is still alive? Stick with me ;)

[possiblyimbiassed]

John’s wedding is a crime scene - Part IV

In Part III of this meta series I came up with a rather horrible hypothesis: What if Sherlock and John actually did get intimate on the stag night, but none of them wanted to admit this fact - perhaps not even to themselves - for different reasons? Which was what ultimately broke Sherlock’s heart and made him OD after the wedding? This is a rather speculative idea of course; it could definitely be very wrong, and I don’t actually wish it to be true. But this is still what I see, and it would explain certain things in the show, so I might as well try to provide evidence and explain what makes me jump on this train of thoughts.

In Part III I tried to point out the distinct, symbolic resemblance between the Mayfly Man’s ‘crime scene’ and 221B. This, together with John showing up in Mrs Hudson’s kitchen the following morning, makes me think John and Sherlock never actually left Baker Street after the stag night. And their leaving 221B is not confirmed by John’s blog. So if they never left 221B, what did actually happen?

Permit me a bit of more analysis and shameless speculation (if you’re already bored, you can just skip this part, because it’s long and maybe tedious :) ).

So if they never left 221B, what about this nurse who came between them? I think ‘Tessa’ is either incredibly naïve, or lying. As @raggedyblue said in the addition to Part III, ‘Tessa’ only dates a guy one night, and it’s only dinner out and exchange of numbers. If she doesn’t hear anything from him after that (and she didn’t seem to know him before) why would she go to his flat to investigate? In the show ‘Tessa’ says that she thought he’d at least call to say they were finished. But how can you finish something that never actually started?

We could also ask why John followed Sherlock home after the pub round, instead of going home to his soon-to-be wife? Well, alcohol might have had to do with it. But the alibi of a case sounds better, doesn’t it? ;) Actually, during the wedding planning scene in TSoT (and this is part of Sherlock re-telling some cases from John’s blog in his best man speech), Sherlock tells us “I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of...” until he’s interrupted by ‘Mary’. And he says this directly after he claims to have solved another case “without leaving the flat”. Hmm... By the way, this is also the scene where Sherlock is showing off his skills with the serviettes:

The swan looks a tiny bit cocky, don’t you think? (Of course it does - swans are some of the cockiest birds I know ;))) ‘Mary’ made him choose the Opera House, though, whatever that might symbolise...

Anyway, What if John is lying in his blog post, and the interruption from this ‘nurse’ (whose name is not revealed in the blog post) was actually a phone call or a text message from ‘Mary’? Which they might have dismissed, John perhaps telling her they were on a case. While the real Tessa actually e-mailed Sherlock late at night, or something like that. Just speculating here... ;)

By the way, these blog descriptions are getting more suspicious the more I think of them. John’s next-to last blog post is called “The Hollow Client”, and it’s dated July 2nd:

This is about a month before the wedding, and John and Sherlock have been to a suit-fitting together. Sounds logical enough; friends could totally do that, even though John is living with Mary since at least a year back. But John describes it as if he were still living in 221B with Sherlock: it’s “when we got back” and “sitting in my chair” and “He’d emailed us”. And now there’s also an empty suit, exactly when John has been to the tailor to have his own suit fitted for the wedding. “Jack Griffin” has the same number of letters as “John Watson”, by the way, and the name starts and ends with the same letters. It’s almost as if John is indeed still living there, but he’s invisible - isn’t he? ;) Why is John gravitating back towards staying with Sherlock at 221B, shortly before his own wedding? Of course, in the show, the wedding planning seems to have mainly taken place at 221B, but wouldn’t ‘Mary’ then be at least mentioned here? But she isn’t visible when Sherlock recounts this case in his best man speech either.

Anyway, back to ‘Tessa’. 

For some reason, a visit to this flat made her believe she had dated a ghost (or an ‘empty suit’, perhaps? ;) ), rather than someone who just didn’t want to give her his correct address. And for this she hires a detective? Visits him late at night? In the other cases described, the Mayfly Man seems to have actually taken the women ‘home’ with him for one-night stands (well, ‘Gail’ in Sherlock’s MP court room at least says that “nothing happened”). But this wasn’t the case with ‘Tessa’. Up to this point the ‘Mayfly Man’ blogpost coincides with what we see in the show; Sherlock’s MP conversations with the ‘victims’ are actually taking place online. But it’s only in the show that the famous detective finds this ‘ghost’ case so important that he goes out late at night - in a heavily inebriated state - to check out this (supposed) address, which could just as well be fake. Why not do this in daylight? But no, he goes there at night, immediately as if it were an urgent murder case, ‘clueing for looks’. But the only clues he does find are reminiscent of 221B. To me, there’s something very fishy going on here.

John’s little white lies on the blog may be understandable, if he simply doesn’t want to reveal that they were both so drunk they got picked up by the police. But aren’t the gaps a bit too obvious? Why does he have to describe his stag night as a “a quiet, civilised evening in the pub”? John isn’t exactly someone who says no to a drink, so at least he could have revealed the less compromising parts of it. It was supposed to be a stag party after all. And why - after having been arrested, and with Mary probably waiting at home for him - does John return to 221B in the morning? Living with ‘Mary’ since last year, it’s not as if he’s leaving 221B now, is it?

Apart from this, there are two main things that bother me, I think, and perhaps most of all the combination of them: John’s silence on the blog after this event, and the sheer amount of sexual innuendos concentrating around John’s wedding.

As for the blog, John seems to be hanging over the comment section instead of focusing on his newly wed wife on their honeymoon, as Sherlock points out. John keeps commenting on it, apparently until Mary makes him stay away from it (“John. You are reading your blog again” appears on August 12, the day after Sherlock posted the wedding photos and talked about John’s “sex holiday”). And yet none of them even comments the 'attempted murder’ that Sherlock solved on their wedding, thereby saving the whole event from disaster - why? (And why is this the last time John ever posts anything on his blog?)

There are lots of erotic hints sprinkled all over the show (pointed out years ago, for example by brilliant Rebekkah in TJLC explained), but in TSoT the sexual innuendos get very blatant, and they’re raining down like a shower. I mean, apart from the ones I’ve mentioned in Part III, there are much more, for example these lines, that on a textual level all seem (more or less) farfetched: The Waters gang gets caught “in the act” by the police. Donovan: “We’ve got the tunnel entrance covered”. Janine: “I’m very pleased to meet you. But no sex, OK?” Sherlock: “...with a history of erectile disfunction”. Molly: “And we’re having quite a lot of sex”. Sherlock to Mycroft: “Why are you out of your breath? Either I’ve caught you in a compromising position or...” 

And then there’s the most blatant innuendo of them all: this absurd theory of what happened to Bainbridge, suggested by a Sherlock mirror (and look how the John mirror beside him is smirking :) ): 

Why would this idea occur to a random boyfriend of Molly’s? Unless it’s a metaphor - and a painfully obvious one. And to whom was this supposed to have happened? To Bainbridge - another Sherlock mirror.

Lestrade’s theory about the killer is that he’s a ‘dwarf’. 

(I mean, come on Sherlock Greg, give poor John a break!) In a recent post, @ebaeschnbliah discovered other suspicious innuendos about an ‘organ’ in TSoT (X), which only increases the impression that TSoT is this show’s El Dorado of innuendos.

And - continuing the pile of subtle pieces of evidence - then there’s S4, marked by John’s terrible sense of guilt over cheating on ‘Mary’:

But isn’t it a bit exaggerated to be this guilt-ridden over some basically innocent text messages to a totally random woman from the bus? While 'Mary’ is (supposedly) forgiven for having nearly killed John’s best friend? The same friend that John himself had recently nearly killed too? If this isn’t blown out of proportions, I really don’t know what is. But later in TLD we learn that this bus woman is actually Eurus in disguise - who I believe represents a side of Sherlock - ‘Sister Sentiment’. Wouldn’t this outburst of guilt be more logical if it had some real background?

Johns policy on the blog seems to be to pretend the stag do never happened. And if this was John’s reaction, Sherlock’s behaviour is probably an auto-defense mechanism aimed to repress and compartmentalise this emotionally devastating memory. Not because he didn’t like what happened, but because of the heartbreak of how everything turned out after that - because of John’s denial and decision to mary ‘Mary’ anyway. As I’ve tried to show in my meta series “What happened to Sherlock” (X) I believe that we’re in Sherlock’s mind from Day 1, that what we see in the show up until HLV is Sherlock living through his memories while reading up on John’s blog. And the rest of the show Sherlock is in coma after an OD, but still running hypothetical scenarios inside his Mind Theatre. If my idea about the stag night would turn out to be true, I actually think this would fit both with John killing Hope in ASiP, with Sherlock losing Faith in TLD and with Love being a constant suspect of Sherlock’s after TSoT. And it would definitely fit with the fact that Sherlock never gets a ‘confession’ out of Culverton Smith (= John mirror) in TLD.

But then in TFP Sherlock has this mental “purgatory” through which he drags himself; this experimental lab that is Sherrinford, ruled by Sister Sentiment, where he’s going through hell and facing his demons. And in TFP we have this conversation between Sherlock and Eurus (Thanks for the transcript, Ariane deVere. My bolding):

EURUS: Oh! Have you had sex? SHERLOCK (continuing to play the tune): Why do you ask? EURUS: The music. I’ve had sex. SHERLOCK: How? EURUS: One of the nurses got careless. I liked it. Messy, though. People are so breakable. SHERLOCK (still playing): I take it he didn’t consent. EURUS: He? SHERLOCK: She? EURUS: Afraid I didn’t notice in the heat of the moment and afterwards... well, you couldn’t really tell. Is that vibrato or is your hand shaking?

I never thought that this conversation made sense; why is Eurus’ sex life interesting at all? Why is she presented as some kind of sex predator, while being painted as gay at the same time? Is this meant to be some sort of horrible homophobic joke from the show makers?  

However, after realising that Sherlock and John might have never left the flat after the stag night in TSoT, this conversation with Eurus kind of offers a new reading that I honestly hadn’t thought about before. (And I think the trap that shouls be avoided here is reading it without emotional context; this context might actually have been provided long before this in the show). You don’t follow me? OK, let’s play Sherlock here. Let’s put up a Mind Theatre scenario and pick this conversation apart, line by line, reconstructing what possibly might have happened during the stag night. I’ll substitute Eurus’ name with MP!Sherlock to facilitate the understanding. Remember that in our little scenario, this is Sherlock talking to himself:

MP!Sherlock: Oh! Have you had sex? This could of course be about Victor Trevor or someone like him in Sherlock’s earlier past. Or it could be a taunt if Sherlock is still a virgin. But if Sherlock did at some point have sex with someone, he apparently has repressed this memory, so the question might be valid for the stag night scenario. And on a meta level, it’s also hard to see why Eurus’ words would allude to something that the audience is not familiar with, since it hasn’t been shown. So balance of probability makes me think stag night, because we might actually have seen it happen, albeit covered up with metaphors.

SHERLOCK (continuing to play the tune): Why do you ask? But now he gets suspicious - always the curious detective. :)

MP!Sherlock: The music. I’ve had sex. In TSoT we have these scenes out at the pubs, with sexual innuendo in the shape of chemistry measuring cylinders, and some rather suggestive pieces of music. 

So this talk of music might just trigger Sherlock’s memory that he did indeed have sex with John, albeit in such an inebriated state that he doesn’t even remember the details, just the fact and the emotional imprint it left on him. 

SHERLOCK: How? Please note that he doesn’t ask “when”, which would sound more logical, wouldn’t it? But at least Sherlock’s subconscious might be perfectly aware that something ‘forbidden’ did happen during the stag night. So the next immediate question would be: how did this event at the stag night actually come to happen? How was it even possible?

MP!Sherlock: One of the nurses got careless. I liked it. Messy, though. People are so breakable. You could say that the nurse ’Mary’ got careless, in the sense that she didn’t seem to keep track on her fiancee’s doings shortly before their wedding. And yes - Sherlock obviously liked ’it’. But since they were both drunk, it was quite messy, both in a physical and an emotional sense. And of course people are emotionally breakable, even if Sherlock tends to despise this fact. But all three of them are human beings who can break down. Which I believe is exactly what Sherlock did, only some time later, when the wedding was a fact (’delayed action stabbing’). And consequently he took a lot of drugs and OD:ed (as I have tried to suggest before X, X).

SHERLOCK (still playing): I take it he didn’t consent. MP!Sherlock: He? Who - John? Well he actually did, didn’t he?

SHERLOCK: She? But where was ’Mary’ in all this? Did she consent to John and Sherlock spending the night together?

MP!Sherlock: Afraid I didn’t notice in the heat of the moment and afterwards... well, you couldn’t really tell. Neither of them probably noticed the ’consent’ issue in the heat of the moment, since they were drunk. And when looking at how ’Mary’ acts about John and Sherlock, indeed it’s difficult to understand what she thinks. ‘Mary’ knows from start how much John has been grieving Sherlock; she must have noticed that there was probably something deeper than friendship going on between them. And she definitely noticed what Sherlock did to John at the Landmark restaurant. And still...

Isn’t ‘Mary’ just a little too tolerant to be a truly authentic fiancee/wife? During the wedding reception she told Sherlock that “neither of us was the first, you know”. And then in HLV we have her threatening to kill Sherlock if he “takes one more step”. Contradictory indeed; I think it’s no wonder Sherlock finds it hard to tell whether she ‘consents’ or not. 

MP!Sherlock: Is that vibrato or is your hand shaking? Vibrato?! No further comments… ;)

So if my horrible hypothesis happens to be true, this conversation with Eurus actually does seem to make some sort of sense. 

I do know this hypothesis is wild, but reconstructing important events backwards from observations of tiny details is actually the Sherlock Holmes character’s MO, so why shouldn’t we, the audience, have a try at it as well? We have Holmes and Watson themselves pointing it out for us in TAB: 

HOLMES: From a drop of water, a logician should be able to infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara. WATSON: Or a Reichenbach.

And, by the way, this show is not unique in using subtle double entendre that might mean something sexual has happened between these two guys. ACD canon is full of innuendos too, what with Holmes and Watson using the Turkish bath together (ILLU), sharing double-bedded hotel rooms (TWIS), etc, etc. And Watson has not been married a month before he abandons his job and wife for some new adventure together with Holmes (who is suddenly waxing lyric over a rose), which ends up with him sleeping in 221B (NAVA).

Tagging some people who might be interested:@sarahthecoat @tjlcisthenewsexy @ebaeschnbliah @fellshish @gosherlocked @loveismyrevolution @sagestreet @raggedyblue @sherlockshadow @darlingtonsubstitution @devoursjohnlock @tendergingergirl @kateis-cakeis @csi-baker-street-babes @88thparallel @timilina @dieseldrakilis @sherlock-overflow-error @elldotsee

[grace-for-the-nations-daily-word]

Your word for today

  Question: What is the mark of the beast (666)?

Im using this question to deal with a lot of questions I have been asked by fellow belivers.

These questions are many but almost all of them point out to one thing; do we know what the mark of the beast is or we are ready to believe anything that anyone says about it.

When you ask me should I as a christian take the vaccine or will I loose my salvation if I take the vaccine or Pastor what's your comment on the vaccine?

To me you are simply saying, I don't understand the mark of the beast, please explain it to me.

Im going to do my best and pray that God help us understand more.

I posted this under Q&A about twice when I did the Foundations of our faith series in 2019 and sometime after.

Those of you who keep records you might be able to remember it.

THE MARK OF THE BEAST

The main passage in the Bible that mentions the mark of the beast is Revelation 13:15-18.

15 And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as would not worship the image of the beast should be killed.

16 And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads:

17 And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.

18 Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six. (666)

Other references can be found in Revelation 14:9, 11, 15:2, 16:2, 19:20, and 20:4.

This mark acts as a seal for the followers of Antichrist and the false prophet (the spokesperson for the Antichrist).

The false prophet (the second beast) is the one who causes people to take this mark.

The mark is literally placed in the hand or forehead and is not simply a card someone carries.

The Setting for the coming of the mark of the beast is where the false prophet cause all whose names are not found in the lamp's book of life to worship the beast (Rev 12:12)

This must say something to you about the saints.

They are not candidates for the mark of the beast primarily because:

Their names will be found in the lamp's book of life. ( woe to you if your name is not in that book)

And because it seems this happens after rapture and during tribulation.

The recent breakthroughs in medical implant chip technologies have increased interest in the mark of the beast spoken of in Revelation chapter 13.

It is possible that the technology we are seeing today represents the beginning stages of what may eventually be used by the false prophet to give people the mark of the beast.

It is important to realize that a medical implant chip is not the mark of the beast and neither is a vaccine or technological implant chip.

The mark of the beast will be something given only to those who worship the Antichrist.

Having a medical or financial microchip inserted into your right hand or forehead is not the mark of the beast.

The mark of the beast will be an end-times identification required by the Antichrist in order for people to buy or sell, and it will be given only to those who worship the Antichrist.

This will happen during tribulation.

Many good expositors of Revelation differ widely as to the exact nature of the mark of the beast.

Besides the implanted chip view, other speculations include an ID card, a microchip, a barcode that is tattooed into the skin, or simply a mark that identifies someone as being faithful to the Antichrist's kingdom.

This last view requires the least speculation, since it does not add any more information to what the Bible gives us.

In other words, any of these things are possible, but at the same time they are all speculations.

We should not spend a lot of time speculating on the precise details.

The word of God does not speculate, it says what it means.

The meaning of 666 is a mystery as well.

Some have speculated that there was a connection to June 6, 2006 (06/06/06)

However, in Revelation chapter 13, the number 666 identifies a person, not a date.

Revelation 13:18 tells us, This calls for wisdom. If anyone has insight, let him calculate the number of the beast, for it is man's number.

His number is 666.

Somehow, the number 666 will identify the Antichrist.

For centuries Bible interpreters have been trying to identify certain individuals with 666.

Nothing so far is conclusive.

That is why Revelation 13:18 says the number requires wisdom.

When the Antichrist is revealed it will be clear who he is and how the number 666 identifies him.

2 Thes 2:3 Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition;

4 Who opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped; so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, shewing himself that he is God.

I want to clarify here that I dont believe the current vaccines, medical implants chips and technological implants chips are NOT the mark of the beast.

I also dont find any biblical basis to claim 5G or any other new technological breakthrough as the mark of the beast.

However since the devil will use anything he can access to his advantage, these implants and chips can be taken advantage of by the false prophet to prepare for the actual mark of the beast.

The bible is very clear on one thing; The mark of the beast will not be secretly put on people's foreheads or arms without their consent.

Either under duress or forced or maybe left with no option they will accept the mark fully aware of what it is.

The devil is not going to vaccinate you claiming he is curing a disease then you wake up tomorrow with the mark of the beast. No!

The False prophet will say something like:

"You have to take the mark of our Master (the anti christ) so that you can get his benefits, anyone who doesn't take the mark will be excommunicated from the society and deemed a traitor"

You have to make a choice to take the mark or suffer.

The next thing you need to remember as said earlier is the mark '666' is a name.

So the 666 on your forehead or arm will be a name or a number of an actual name.

It will be clear for all to see and not something hidden that needs a scan.

You can't buy or sell without it.

You will be under total sanctions from the system of that time.

Remember people have been speculating and teaching a lot of conspiracy theories from as long as I can remember and all of them were liars.

Some said Bush was the anti christ, some said Nelson Mandela, some said Barack Obama, some said Putin and many other world leaders bad and good.

These theories had one thing in common, none of them were true.

About the end time events I have one method of judging those who claim to have the latest revelation:

Anyone who gives specifics, names and dates where the bible never gives such is not telling the truth.

The same goes for the mark of the beast, no matter how spiritual any man sounds, they can't be more spiritual that the bible.

Sometime ago when I was in Primary school, I can't remember which year, we were literally forced by teachers and superstitious relatives to put on a wrist band made out of sack material.

Someone had claimed that on a particular date it will rain and lightning will strike anyone without that specific sack wrist band.

The message was circulated wide and far even on radio.

On that particular day, on leaving school most of us stubbornly threw away the sack wrist band and ran home as we normally do.

What happened?

Nothing!

No rain, no thunder and lightning.

And as you can see im pretty much alive today.

Anyone giving specifics where the bible doesn't and claiming what scripture does not claim is either speaking frim his own mind for whatever reason or speaking by another spirit other than the spirit of God.

You are safe when you stick to scripture.

I hope you are encouraged and all confusion is dealt with concerning the mark of the beast.

I repeat as i conclude and I have said this I think twice before on this platform since 2019 "I do not believe medical implants, technology chip implants, vaccines are the exact mark of the beast"

The anti christ may one day take advantage of these just like he does anything to prepare for the actual mark of the beast.

But these technologies and vaccines we see now are not the mark of the beast

Much blessing

© Pst Brucely Hanya

August 2021 daily word.

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[wokeuptired]

night 5 of natasha’s 8 nights of chanukah | read the other nights here

left coast

celeste robbins is all about compartmentalizing. there’s life in los angeles, and there’s life in portland. there’s good music, and there’s bad music. there’s the past, and there’s the future.  

and then there’s harry styles.

a story about the five stages of grief, getting lost upstate, and becoming brave.  

1. denial

“Are you ready?” Sylvia asks, her hand light on my shoulder. I’m not ready, but I nod anyway. She takes my hand, and together we turn away from Grams’ grave. I’ve already read the inscription so many times that I’m sure I’ll never forget it.  

Lucinda Evelyn Robbins

May 21 1937 - May 24 2016

Beloved Mother, Grandmother, Friend

She does not go gentle.

“At least it’s not raining today,” Sylvia says, squeezing my hand. I nod, but I wish it were raining. I wish it were raining buckets on top of our heads, drenching us and making our clothes stick to our bodies. I wish it were rainwater dripping down my cheeks, not tears. I wish we weren’t leaving here to go home to a house full of tupperware containers and covered mirrors and sad people. But mostly, I wish Grams weren’t dead.

I hate people competing in their sadness. I’m sadder than you; she taught me piano when I was 12. I’m sadder than you; I’ve been her neighbor for 30 years. But none of them can say, I’m the saddest of all. She raised me. She taught me right from wrong, up from down, now from then. She taught me how to be.

Sylvia drives, and I sit in the passenger’s seat, folding my hands in my lap and trying not to pick at my nails. A month ago, Grams and I got manicures together. I hated it, having strangers touch my hands, but Grams smiled widely and complimented all the women on their hairstyles and their skill at painting tiny flowers on our nails. My flowers are chipping away, and I know I should wipe them off with acetone, but the loss of them will sting more than the smell.

“Paul Cohen was there,” Sylvia says as she guides the car out of the cemetery and back toward the highway. I hate how close the cemetery is to the freeway, which is a graveyard in and of itself, but this is where Grams wanted to be. This is where our parents are, so this is where she wanted to be, too. “Did you see him?”

“Yeah,” I say, though I’m not sure who Paul Cohen is. The guy who fixed Grams’ car once for cheap when it broke? The old man from synagogue that always had a crush on her?  

“Hmm,” Sylvia says. We come to a stop in the left line, the only noise in the car the click click of the turn signal. I reach for the button to turn on the radio, but Sylvia puts her hand out to stop me. “We need to talk about what’s going to happen next.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say. What’s going to happen next: We’re going to go home and sit on the floor for a week. At least, according to Grams’ book, no one will be able to talk to me unless I talk to them first.

Grams ordered us the book on Amazon a few weeks ago, when things started to get really bad: The Jewish Way in Death and Mourning. I didn’t read it, but Sylvia did. She’s the one who called the Rabbi and the head of the synagogue Sisterhood and dealt with all the funeral arrangements.

“We’re going to have to sell the house,” Sylvia says, staring straight ahead, “since neither of us live here. And most of Grams’ stuff, too. We’ll meet with the lawyers next week to go over Grams’ will, and they’ll give us a list of everything we need to find so that it can be distributed. Then we can sell everything else, or you can hire somebody to do it, it doesn’t really matter.”

“You want to sell everything?” It takes me a second to process what Sylvia is saying, and when I do, it scares me. Grams’ house is the only home I’ve ever known.

Sylvia sighs. “I don’t want to, but we have to. We can’t afford it if we’re not living here, and I don’t want to move here. I’ve got a life in Seattle, Cel, and you’ve got a life at school. We have to sell it.”

The light changes and we turn left, onto the freeway. I stare out the window as cars speed past us for a minute, and then traffic grinds to a halt. Sylvia curses under her breath and tightens her grip on the steering wheel.

“I hate this damn city,” she groans. “So fucking crowded.”

I want to scream at her. I love this city, even with its traffic and superficiality and insane number of designer dogs. This is the city that raised me, the city that took my parents and my grandma from me, and this, I know, is the city where I’ll die someday.

“Anyhow,” Sylvia continues, “I have to get back to Seattle next week, but I’ll make all the arrangements before I go, and I’ll make a list of everything for you so you know what you have to do. I might be able to come down for some weekends, but you’ll have to do most of the cleaning and stuff yourself. Can you handle that?”

“Of course,” I scoff. “I’m not a child anymore, Sylvie.”

“Sure had me fooled,” she says.

We don’t say anything for the rest of the ride. When we pull up at Grams’ house, it’s clear we’re not the first ones there. I unbuckle my seatbelt and take a deep breath before I get out of the car. Inside, two dozen people are waiting for us, to hug us and look at us like we’re broken dolls, and all I’ll be able to do is stand there and take it.

“Please try to be nice,” Sylvia hisses at me as we go up the front walk.

The door opens before us, and thus begins the loneliest summer of my life.   

Spin Cycle isn’t crowded, which is unsurprising for a Monday morning in August, so I go right up to the counter and tap my nails on the glass top. Beneath it, I see all of the special edition records propped up on stands. Every week, somebody opens up the case and dusts them, but they never sell, because they’re too expensive to be played. And who wants a record they can’t play?

“Yes?” Kali looks up at me, momentarily annoyed, until she sees that it’s me, and then she breaks out into a smile. “Celeste,” she says, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear, revealing half a dozen piercings. “What’re you doing here?”

I try to grin back, though I know my smile’s not as true as it could be. “Do you have the new Ghost of Hamlet’s Father record on vinyl?” I ask her. “I haven’t been able to find it anywhere.”

“Of course,” Kali says, and then she hops over the counter like only a girl who’s nearly 6 feet tall can, and she hugs me.

Kali is my best friend in Los Angeles, not because we’ve known each other forever, but mostly because we haven’t. People who’ve known me forever know too much about me. They know about me before, before my parents died and Grams took us in, and they pity me. I hate being pitied.

“How’s Grams?” Kali asks, taking me by the shoulders and looking at me. “Is she doing any better?”

“Oh, um.” I bite my lip. “She passed last week.”

“Oh.” Kali’s face falls. “I’m so sorry, Celeste. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t…” I don’t know how to tell her that I didn’t want her to pity me. I didn’t want her to look at me the way she’s looking at me right now, like I’m a piece of glass she needs to handle with care. “You’re busy, so…”

“You know I’m always here for you, Cel,” Kali says. She squeezes my shoulders and lets me go. “Lemme find that record for you.”

“Thanks, Kali,” I say. I follow her across the store, towards the “recently released” vinyls.  Kali knows full well that I could find the record myself; I did work here for a year, after all. But I don’t feel guilty about distracting her for a few minutes, since the store is empty. “How’s business these days?”

Kali laughs. “Oh, it’s going. It’s mostly retirees and hipsters keeping my doors open and a roof over my head. Which is not to say that all my customers smell, or anything.”

“Tell me about it,” I say. “I live in Portland, remember?”

“How could I forget? Lost my best employee to that city.” She laughs again and begins digging through a bin of records. After a minute, she straightens up, one in her hand. “Ah! Here it is. You need anything else while you’re here, Cel?”

“Nope, that’ll do.” I follow her back up front and fork over my credit card to pay for it. She hands it back to me and pushes the record across the counter, but before she can wish me a good day, I tell her why I’m really here. “Actually, I do need something else.”

“Oh yeah?”  Kali pulls a box of CDs from under the counter and begins sorting them into piles. “I had a feeling. What can I help you with, my dear?”

I turn to the pile of tapes next to the register, the two for a dollar bin, and pick through them. I’m not looking for anything in particular, but I need something to distract me from feeling uncomfortable while I talk. “I got Grams’ car. She left it to me in her will, so I’m going to take it up to Portland with me. And I need somebody to drive with me. Because I don’t want to go alone. It’s a long drive, and I don’t want to deal with that many hours alone in the car.”  

“Oh, Cel,” Kali says, and I can hear the pity in her voice. “I’m flattered that you thought of me, but I really can’t leave the store--”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant!” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I was just hoping you might know somebody who has some time, or whatever. It’s fine if you don’t, I just thought I should ask since--”

“I know somebody.”

“What?” I put down the tape that I’m holding and turn to face Kali, the end of my sentence still lingering in my mind: since I’m here.  

“I know somebody who needs something to do,” she says. She’s still sorting used CDs, splitting them into piles. The left one, I know, is for CDs in perfect condition, and the right is for ones that might not be resellable.

“Something to do?” I repeat. “I can’t pay anybody, Cor. This isn’t like, an odd job. I just need the company.”

Kali nods. “I know that. And this somebody, he needs company too.”

“Well, okay, great,” I say. “How well do you know him? Is he gonna murder me as soon as we hit the Grapevine and dump my body out of the car to rot with all the cows?”

Kali cringes. “I don’t know him that well, but my boyfriend can vouch for him--”

“You have a boyfriend now?” I ask, surprised. Kali and I don’t talk often when I’m not in town, but we text pretty regularly, and for a while we wrote each other letters. That was Kali’s idea, but I went along with it, no matter how cheesy I thought it was, because she’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had.

“Yeah,” Kali says, blushing. “He works at Columbia Records. And he’s known this guy for a few years, so I’m sure he won’t murder you--”

“Well, great then,” I say. I didn’t realize until now how eager I was to find someone to drive with me. Grams’ car reminds me too much of her. I can’t drive it that far alone. “That checks off my first box. ‘Won’t murder me.’ Check. Who is he?”

Kali bites her lip. “You’re not going to like it.”

“What are you talking about? I like everyone.”

“No, you don’t. And you especially don’t like this guy.”

“How do you know? Do I know him?”

“You know of him.”

“God, Cor, just tell me.”

“Harry Styles.”

“Harry Styles? From that boyband?” I try not to groan, mostly because I don’t want to hear her say, “I told you so.”

“They’ve been expanding musically over the past few years, you know--”

“Jesus Christ, Cor.”

“Well, keep it in mind as a last resort, okay?”

“Sure,” I say, picking up my record and heading for the door. “I’ll call you if I get desperate, okay?”

[gadgetsrevv]

Gunnersaurus: the untold story of Arsenal’s mascot

Arsene Wenger, Thierry Henry, Dennis Bergkamp: None of them can compare to Arsenal’s most enduring star, Gunnersaurus.

LONDON — Gunnersaurus Rex had just finished greeting Burnley off their bus in the bowels of the Emirates, extending his great green claws toward manager Sean Dyche, Ashley Barnes and Ben Mee. Goalkeeper Nick Pope had taken a conspicuously wide turn to avoid him, and someone in the small crowd of observers registered displeasure — “That’s a bit out of order” — but Gunnersaurus seemed unfazed by Pope’s blind eye. His toothy grin stayed, as ever, glued to his friendly face.

He waited for his Arsenal to arrive. When their own bus eased up, Gunnersaurus tapped the crest of his red jersey, made sure his feet were planted squarely on the cement floor, and opened his arms. Matteo Guendouzi, the curly haired midfielder, was among the first to reach him. Guendouzi accepted a hug with all of his heart.

After the last of the players had passed him, Gunnersaurus made for the elevator that would take him to the concourse behind the family section of the stands. He had a minder but still banged his head on a beam along the way. It’s hard to be seven feet tall in England. He rode up and the lift doors opened. An elderly woman waiting on the other side had to put her hand to her chest to keep from falling over. She wasn’t expecting to see a dinosaur at a football game.

– Euro 2020 mascot: Is it among the worst of past tournaments? – Wigan’s new mascot is (drumroll please) a pie.  – The most terrifying mascot in soccer 

It’s been more than 25 years since Gunnersaurus first appeared at one, and people still register the most complete surprise whenever they see him. Their faces light up. Their eyes go nearly as wide as their smiles. Gunnersaurus is like a machine custom-built to spread joy.

An admiring crowd of supporters surrounded him. He was soon trapped in the concourse, unable to move, a modern-day Gulliver tied to the ground by the Lilliputians and their curious love. Children have a particular affinity for Gunnersaurus, and he does for them, but adults also express an unabashed affection for him. Gunnersaurus responds without a whisper of irony. He is particularly drawn to people in wheelchairs. He smothers them in the warmest embrace.

There was a huge poster on the wall of the concourse where he stood. It depicted a young Arsene Wenger, then the overseer of the Invincibles, the unbeatable Arsenal of 2003-04. It included a quote from Brian Clough, marveling at the 49-game winning streak Arsenal then enjoyed. “It’s better than being in heaven,” Clough said.

Gunnersaurus stood in front of that poster and dispensed hug after hug. One boy, maybe 12 years old, forgot that he was supposed to be cool, and he turned his back to Gunnersaurus and executed a trust fall into his belly. Gunnersaurus draped his arms around the boy, the boy closed his eyes, and his father took a picture of him with a smile of pure bliss.

Peter Lovell, 37, won a contest to design a new mascot for the Junior Gunners in 1993, when he was 11 years old.

Arsenal are highly secretive about Gunnersaurus and his private truths. The contents of the ark of the covenant would be easier to see; there are royal families that are less guarded.

Here is what we do know: According to official club lore, Arsenal embarked on a rebuild of the North Bank at Highbury Stadium in the summer of 1993. Deep underground, workers discovered what at first seemed a large boulder. Or perhaps, they feared, it was an unexploded bomb from the war. You can imagine their alarm when they carefully brushed away the last of the earth and learned what they had really found. It was an enormous egg.

The egg was warm to the touch. Memories have been clouded by time, but some of the workers claim that the egg shook a little. They carefully lifted it out and carried it to a sheltered corner of the ground. They wrapped the egg in Arsenal blankets. It didn’t take long for it to crack. Some of the workers stepped away from the egg and its mysterious occupant. Others were drawn toward it.

At last, the egg broke wide open and Arsenal officials will say only that they were “shocked and surprised” by what they saw next. They were almost certainly much more than that. Because out came a baby dinosaur. It was green, round in the middle, with a long, full tail. He soon grew seven feet tall. Arsenal fitted him in a full kit, complete with football boots. And on Aug. 20, 1993, they revealed him to the public at Highbury before a match against Manchester City.

The dinosaur, the bewildered crowd was told, had been named Gunnersaurus Rex, which became Gunner to the lazy and disrespectful. Arsenal went on to beat City 3-0, and if anyone that day had been scared of the dinosaur that had taken its place among them, they weren’t scared of him anymore. Beside, he seemed such a happy dinosaur. No matter what happened around him — rain, defeat, moments of silence — he smiled his big smile. Gunnersaurus could stay. He had found his forever home.

Origin story: Peter Lovell’s award-winning designs for what would eventually become Gunnersaurus.

In the summers of my youth, I was a mascot: Boomer, the Parks Canada beaver. Unlike Gunnersaurus, of course, I wasn’t real. I was wearing a costume. I was exposed to countless curiosities whenever I put it on. When I was Boomer, children gathered around me like birds to bread. Adults surrounded me in concentric circles, too. I was always amazed by how many, including the grownups, forgot that inside that costume, there was a man. So many people seemed only too willing to accept that a giant anthropomorphic beaver, dressed like a park ranger, was suddenly bumbling about in their midst.

There were vulnerabilities in playing such an outsized part. I couldn’t see my feet, which made it surprisingly hard to walk. My enormous head became wedged in door frames. I was very, very hot. A certain segment of the population takes deep pleasure in watching mascots suffer; I was once set upon by a group of first-graders who beat me within an inch of my natural human life. I had nightmares that I would fall into the nearby canal and nobody would try to rescue me, because they would see that I was smiling and would confuse my frantic pawing at the air for waving. The white of my beaver teeth, each the size of a book, would be the last that they would see of me when I disappeared into the murk. No wonder they would think I was fine. I wasn’t a man with dreams drowning inside a costume. I was a beaver returned to his habitat.

I can’t imagine what it’s like to be an actual dinosaur, unable to speak, unable to express any emotion beyond quiet delight. Gunnersaurus somehow kept his happy face through an emotional on-field tribute to the victims of Hillsborough in 2011; only this summer he was hit hard in the gob by a child taking a penalty kick, and yet his mask remained.

What is it like to be so famous and yet so unknown? Gunnersaurus recently won the online World Cup of Football Mascots, besting FC Metz’s Grayou, a dragon; West Brom’s Boiler Man, a hot-water heater with arms and legs; and Partick Thistle’s Kingsley, a surly sun, maybe, with a unibrow. He has been invited to appear at hundreds of weddings and bar mitzvahs and birthday parties, and he recently gained his 100,000th follower on Instagram. He is easily the most popular dinosaur in the world. In football, as in life, everything changes. But Gunnersaurus is always there.

Gunnersaurus is like a machine custom-built to spread joy.

A 37-year-old man in Cambridge named Peter Lovell claims to have “invented” Gunnersaurus. Lovell is a man of enthusiasms, the sort of person who walks into a bar filled with strangers and leaves with friends. He has materials to support his claim, including the drawings of Gunnersaurus he allegedly made when he was 11 years old. His parents were Scotland Yard detectives, he says, and massive Arsenal fans, which made him an Arsenal supporter with a prodigious eye for detail. In 1993, the Junior Gunners held a contest to design a new mascot, his story goes; inspired by “Jurassic Park,” which had come out that same summer, he sat down at his kitchen table and soon produced his fully realized proposal for a dinosaur named Gunnersaurus Rex. He won the contest, and the Gunnersaurus of his imagination came to life that August. He hasn’t stopped telling people what he believes he did, mostly because it means he rarely buys a beer. “It’s the ultimate anecdote,” he says.

Some of Lovell’s story checks out. “Jurassic Park” did, in fact, give a lot of people dinosaur fever in the summer of 1993. Lovell’s drawings, with front and side views of a dinosaur that looks very much like the actual Gunnersaurus, resemble the mug shots his parents would have brought home and laid on that same kitchen table. (Lovell’s Gunnersaurus was yellow, not green, and his only uniform was a jersey. The real Gunnersaurus, thankfully, also wears shorts.) Lovell’s eyes even go wet with tears when he talks about how much his supposed young success changed the course of so many important things.

“It always gets me,” he says. “It was one of those moments in the history of my life, if it hadn’t have happened. … How it transformed me, helped to form a growing mind, the confidence it gave me, the belief. So much has come from that belief. That’s the moment I went from being intimidated by the world to believing that I could do anything. It’s beautiful.”

Gunnersaurus … out.

But Peter Lovell must be delusional. As earnest as he appears, as much as it would be lovely to think that a boy with some paper and crayons could sit down at a table and conjure something so wonderful as a dinosaur that has brought happiness to thousands for more than a quarter-century, Gunnersaurus is real. He wasn’t invented. He was born out of a giant egg and grew seven feet tall.

I’ve seen him. I’ve hugged him. I have felt his comforting squeeze, the buttress-like strength of his arms, the gentle trace of his claws on my shoulders, his fuzzy green skin on my face. Gunnersaurus is as real as Santa Claus. He is as real as grace. He is as real as every last one of our childhood hopes, the affirmation that good things will come to us if only we believe.

That beautiful day I spent with Gunnersaurus at Arsenal, a teenage boy with hearing aids in his ears made his approach in the concourse. Gunnersaurus sensed his presence and turned. The boy held out his arms and Gunnersaurus held out his, and they fell into a cuddle. The boy took a long time to let go. When he did, he smiled and put his hand to his lips and then opened his palm toward Gunnersaurus. He signed “Thank you” to the dinosaur. Then Gunnersaurus signed “Thank you” back to the boy.

If that encounter wasn’t real, if that moment wasn’t as true and heart-swelling as it felt in the suddenly blurry light of that magical afternoon, then what is?

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[southsidestory]

For Everything There is a Season: Chapter Five

Rating: Mature

Summary: Waiting: it’s a practice Sakura is too familiar with. One she would happily let go, if only life would stop giving her loves to wait for. (Sequel to In Times of Peace. SasuSaku.)

Author’s Notes: This story would not have been possible without the people who donated toward a Nepal earthquake relief fund: @ashtronomica, @okwtfxia, Torikai, AkatsukiV, @disliking-u, @xxlovendreamsxx, @ashsch87, @uchihasass, @jentruth, @akako-chan, @laetia, @disliike. Thank you for being so generous, and for supporting the @narutofornepal project.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

August in Ame is hot and humid, the air so thick that breathing feels like suffocating, even as it rains (and it’s always raining here).

Sakura sits on the back steps of the orphanage, shielded from today’s storm by the awning overhead. The downpour floods the garden, despite every effort she took to protect it, beating down the glossy leaves and tender petals. Sakura watches one summer squall destroying three months’ labor, and she has to laugh. She’d encouraged the children to plant flowers—hardy blooms native to the area, ones that she thought would withstand even the heaviest rain. Sakura had hoped that this project would give her kids a sense of ownership, would foster hope that not everything fails before it can come to fruition. Maybe because that’s an idea she’s so desperate to believe herself.

She closes her eyes, and the rest of the world slips away. For the space of a heartbeat, all Sakura hears is the steady drumbeat of rain thumping against the small canopy above her, all she smells is the green scent of growing things and wet earth.

But moments like these, of quiet solitude, are rarer than diamonds in an Ame orphanage, so she isn’t surprised when Miyu calls for her.

“Setsu?” she asks.

Answering to her alias has become second nature, and Sakura doesn’t even hesitate. She stands, straightens her skirt, and hurries back inside. “Yes? Do you need me?”

Miyu throws up her hands. “I don’t know what to do with that boy. I leave him alone for two minutes—two minutes!—and he’s already started another fight.”

She doesn’t have to ask which child Miyu is talking about. It could only be Sojiro, the newest addition to their strange little house of the lost and left behind. A local genin delivered him to the orphanage last month, saying that he’d be thrown into the juvenile detention center if Miyu and Sakura refused to take him in. For a nine-year-old child, he’s remarkably destructive, and he’s managed to cause some kind of mayhem every day since his arrival.

Sojiro utterly ignores Miyu, curses the part-time caretakers, and fights the other children. He’s argumentative on his good days and aggressive on the bad, nasty to nearly everyone—everyone except for Sakura, really, and so her primary job for the last three weeks has been to keep an eye on him.

She finds Sojiro in the room he shares with two other boys, but since dinner is being served right now, his roommates are gone. He worries his split lip between his teeth, and it starts bleeding anew. A dribble of red slides down his chin, viscous and bright under the dim yellow lights.

Sakura points at his injured lip. “Do you mind if I fix that?”

Sojiro looks at her warily, pale eyes narrowed and mouth turned down in a frown. But he nods and says, “Okay. Sure.”

Sakura tries to be careful with her healing, only ever utilizing it within the walls of the orphanage, and she does her best to make her abilities appear average rather than exceptional. She lies about her origins to anyone who asks, claiming that as a young girl she’d moved from country to country and studied under a retired medic-nin for a time. Most people accept this story, but Sakura suspects that Miyu hasn’t bought a word of it.

Now she stands before Sojiro, holds her hand over his bruised and bloodied mouth, and summons chakra to the tips of her fingers. For a moment, the power of it surges through her, and Sakura tries to ignore the yearning she feels every time she performs even the simplest of medical ninjutsu. She misses the shinobi life often—always, lately—but most of all when she’s healing.

“There you go,” Sakura says, and she takes a full step back, giving Sojiro more space. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

He shakes his head, then bites his lip again and flinches. It shouldn’t be painful anymore, although the skin could be tender, the way recently mended flesh usually is. It takes Sakura a moment to realize that maybe Sojiro made that face because it doesn’t hurt, and she worries that the whole point of his fights might be to harm himself.

She could ask him outright, but when faced with difficult questions, Sojiro is far more likely to shut down than open up. One wrong move could shatter the tenuous trust they’ve been building, and Sakura can’t afford to risk that.

Instead, Sakura takes a seat in the lone chair by the window and says, “You remind me of someone.”

Two someones, actually. Sojiro has all of Sasuke’s anger and sharp intelligence, but none of his drive, his focus. He lashes out wildly and causes chaos when he’s hurting, just like Naruto did as a little boy. Sakura sees pieces of her husband and her best friend in this child—in every orphan under this roof, if she’s honest.

For a moment, she’s lost, remembering sunny days as a new genin, before the world tore Team 7 apart and taught her the ugliness of life.

Thinking of Naruto makes her ache, makes her miss the Leaf and ramen lunches and the sound of his raucous laughter.

And then there’s Sasuke, the husband she can’t bear to think about, because the pain of separation only grows greater every day, every moment. Sakura has found something like peace here in this sad little corner of Ame—where she is needed, where the ghosts of her dead child and her broken marriage can’t haunt her so closely. But there is a difference in peace and fulfillment. The time is coming soon, she thinks, when it may no longer be best for her to hide here.

Sojiro draws his legs up to his chest and rests his head against his knees. He looks at her with wide eyes the color of ice and whispers, “You remind me of someone too.”

Sakura can guess, from the frailty of his voice and his trembling lower lip, that Sojiro means his mother.

He allows her to hug him, to pat his messy dark hair (much in need of a trim) and murmur soothing nonsense as he bites back quiet sobs.

They fit together too well: a son with no mother in the arms of a mother with no son.

Seven hundred forty-nine days: that’s how long it’s been since Sasuke last saw his wife.

He wonders if Sakura kept a count of their time apart when he was a missing-nin. Or when she lost their child. The son he didn’t have the chance to hold, who’s been ashes for far longer than he was alive—if you can consider a child who never took a breath to have been alive at all.

Sasuke pushes that thought away, because sometimes it hurts too much to remember all that he’s lost. Father, mother, brother, son, and wife. Gone forever, except for Sakura, and he’s determined to find her.

Not that he has any leads at the moment. Sasuke spent a week following up on a rumor that a skilled healer had taken up residence in a little River Country town. The healer in question was a retired medic-nin from Amegakure named Ikue. She let Sasuke sleep in her spare room and fed him three hot meals, and all she asked for in return was that he deliver a letter to her daughter in the Rain Village.

Ame is every bit as miserable and gloomy as Sasuke remembers it, a broken city dirtied by industrial grime. The marks of poverty permeate the whole village, from the abandoned factories to the scrawny alley cats.

Sasuke pulls his cloak around himself more tightly, though it does nothing to protect him from the storm. His clothes are soaked through, and he feels wet right down to his bones.

He finds a sad, threadbare inn in the northern quarter of the village, pays to stay for one night, and collapses on the bed without even undressing. Tomorrow he’ll wake to mud-splattered covers, his clothes damp and musty, but Sasuke can’t make himself care.

He’s just so tired. Worn thin from loneliness, hollowed out by fear. Even if he finds Sakura, he might not be able to convince her to come back home. She could be happier alone, far away from him.

But then Sasuke closes his eyes, and he remembers his wife in a hundred small moments: a little girl with her hair tied back by a red ribbon, her smile shy and cheeks pink; the security of her arms in the Forest of Death, anchoring him to the earth, bringing him back to himself when darkness threatened to swallow him whole; the taste of her rain-slicked skin the first time they went to bed together; how green her eyes were, bright and so happy, at their wedding.

Hope might be too much for Sasuke to muster, but he has faith in the bonds he forged with his team. And if he’s learned anything from Sakura, it’s that love endures, no matter how far it strays.

From dawn to dusk, all she hears is “Setsu, come here!” and “Kai won’t stop pulling my hair, Setsu!” and “Can you help me with my homework, Setsu?”

Sometimes Sakura wonders whether she’d even respond to her true name, should anyone from her old life track her down here.

It’s a stupid dream. Two years have passed since she abandoned Konoha, and no one has discovered her yet. Either she’s hidden herself too well for her team to find her, or they’ve simply stopped looking.

She’d believe it of Kakashi; he’s so used to loss that his natural response is to bear it and keep going. Not Naruto, though, because it isn’t in his nature to let go of his friends. And Sasuke’s answer to betrayal has always been righteous fury—although the way he chooses to express it has changed dramatically since they were children. As a boy, he sought vengeance, ready to burn his life to the ground if he could only catch his enemies in the flames. As a man, he channeled that anger into protectiveness, using it keep his village and his loved ones safe.

Sakura wonders what he’ll say, if—no, when—they see each other again. Because she can feel her days in Ame dwindling. Konoha pulls at her heart, insistent as a compass that always finds its way back to true north.

“Setsu! Kai scraped his knee. Can you fix it?”

Sakura swallows her homesickness, takes a deep breath, and gets back to work.

It’s a long, demanding day, like every other day at the orphanage. But that night, when Sakura climbs into bed, it’s with a light body and a calm mind. She’s doing important work here, and it’s been as good for her as it has for the children. Her homesickness can wait a little while longer. Konoha calls to her, but she isn’t ready to face the people (and the grave) she left behind. Not quite yet.

Sakura listens to the storm beating against her window, a wild melody played on fragile glass. It soothes her to sleep, into a dream of summer rain and kisses that taste of shochu.

“Setsu! Get up!”

She jerks awake, startled and short of breath. Only a split-second instinct keeps Sakura from throwing Miyu through a wall.

“What is it?” she asks. “What’s wrong?”

Miyu runs a hand through her hair, gripping it like she’s on the verge of pulling it out.

“It’s Sojiro,” she says. “He’s missing.”

Ikue’s daughter is a pretty ginger-haired woman named Umeko. She lives in the better part of town—still a slum, but as nice as anyplace can be in a village like Ame.

When Sasuke hands over the message he owes her, she says, “Thank you.”

He nods. “It was no trouble.”

Umeko invites him to stay for tea. It’s the least she can do to express her gratitude, she says.

It’s a kind offer, but Sasuke has always been able to tell when someone wants more than they let on. Umeko isn’t disrespectful or offensively forward, but Sasuke recognizes her flirting for what it is, and he couldn’t be less interested.

He’s never wanted any woman but Sakura. Not even when he was young and terrified of the weakness love wrought.

“I can’t,” he says. “I have a long way to go.”

Umeko smiles, but disappointment shows so clear on her face that it looks almost like a frown. “Oh. All right then. I hope your travels go well.”

Sasuke wanders back to the street, into the downpour that never ends, as persistent as the green of Konoha’s forests.

He rounds a corner that veers toward Hagane Street, and as he steps onto the sidewalk, Sasuke feels it: the presence of someone’s chakra, sidling up behind him. It’s a child, he can tell without looking. A boy walking on impressively silent feet for a civilian, his hand reaching toward Sasuke’s pocket.

He turns at the last moment, catching the thief by his skinny wrist. Firm, but not hard, because Sasuke only means to warn the boy.

“It’s dangerous to steal from strangers,” he says. “Most Ame shinobi wouldn’t have dealt with you kindly.”

Sasuke releases the boy’s wrist. He steps backward, cuts his eyes left and right, undoubtedly looking for an escape route.

“Didn’t know you were a ninja.”

He scowls so fiercely that Sasuke is reminded oddly of himself at that age; it’s an uncanny feeling, one that he doesn’t quite like.

The kid’s mouth twists into a smirk when he asks, “How’s anybody supposed to guess that when you’re dressed like a hobo?”

Sasuke almost smiles in return. “People aren’t supposed to know I’m a ninja by looking at me. That’s part of what makes me good at my job.”

“Well thanks for not killing me, but I gotta go.”

It’s naive, but mostly sad, that he expects Sasuke to let him wander off into a village like this with no protection.

Sasuke waves at the street. “Go ahead then. Lead the way.”

The boy rolls his eyes, but when Sasuke asks his name, he says, “Sojiro.”

He does as he’s told for three whole minutes, and Sasuke considers it an accomplishment that Sojiro only tries to ditch him twice.

It doesn’t surprise him that Sojiro’s home is an orphanage. A child who lives under his family’s roof rarely resorts to pickpocketing.

Sasuke knocks on the front door, and within a few moments, it opens. A middle-aged woman with grey-streaked hair mutters some sort of prayer, then herds Sojiro inside.

“Thank you,” she says to Sasuke. “We’ve been looking for this one high and low since dawn.”

“Shouldn’t have bothered,” Sojiro says. “I’m just gonna run again, so you might as well let me go.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, but his mulish expression doesn’t quite ring true. It’s too strained, already breaking along fault lines.

This kid wants a home, Sasuke thinks. But he isn’t ready to believe good things can happen, too afraid to accept that he’s safe now.

It’s a feeling that’s too close to his own heart for Sasuke to be comfortable with, and he starts to say goodbye. There’s parting advice on the tip of his tongue, some piece of knowledge that he’d like to leave Sojiro with. He understands better than anyone that avoiding your fears never helps you escape them, and in the end, you’ll only run yourself in circles.

Exactly what he means to say, Sasuke loses the thread of it, because a woman rushes forward to check on Sojiro. She’s scolding him, but the tone of her voice is soft, full of affection, even if her words are strict.

A curtain of long white-gold hair shields her face from view, but it doesn’t matter, because Sasuke recognizes her right away. He’s memorized the grace of her gestures, learned every inch of her body. Even in foreign clothes, with blonde hair and her chakra suppressed, Sasuke couldn’t fail to know his wife at first sight.

A desperate sound catches in his throat, but it must be loud enough to grab Sakura’s attention. She stands up straight and whirls around to face him. Her eyes widen, and they’re green, so green, as pale and pure as in his memory, because Sasuke never forgets the nuances of color.

She’s stunning, somehow more lovely than the last time he saw her, and so beautifully, unexpectedly here. Seven hundred fifty days of fruitless searching, of scouring every hamlet, village, and city he could think of. And by some strange turn of fortune, a thieving orphan boy led Sasuke right to her.

Sakura turns away, head lowered. Long hair falls across her cheek, and Sasuke hates the common blonde that she chose to mask the pink he’s always loved. It’s pretty enough, he supposes, but it isn’t Sakura.

“Miyu,” she says. “Will you take Sojiro to the kitchen? He probably hasn’t eaten since last night.”

Miyu glances between the two of them, her gaze sharp and knowing. Sasuke thinks she’s probably clever enough to guess more of their situation than he’d like.

“Come on to the refectory, dear,” she says to Sojiro. “It’s past time you had dinner…”

Sojiro steals a glance at Sakura, then Sasuke, but he goes with Miyu quietly enough.

Then they’re alone. Sakura lingers around the open doorway, one hand grasping the frame, like she needs to hold onto something to stay on her feet.

“Do you want to come in?” she asks.

Sasuke realizes, with a mild lurch of embarrassment, that he’s been frozen on the stoop like an idiot, getting drenched by Ame’s relentless rain.

He steps inside, pulls the door shut behind him, and leans toward her on an impulse that he can’t suppress.

Sakura scrambles backward, keeping herself carefully out of arm’s reach. That might hurt if Sasuke didn’t notice the tremble in her step, the way her gaze has gone heavy-lidded and keen. But he does notice, because he never misses fine details, least of all those about Sakura.

She’s must be as shocked to see him as he is to see her. Nervous and perhaps afraid, but Sasuke learned long ago how to read yearning in the lines of her body, and he sees it now. Sakura missed him. That’s enough to steal Sasuke’s voice, because he searched for his wife for two years, and he spent every day of that journey wondering whether any part of her wanted to be found.

He gives himself one more moment to drink in the sight of her, taking stock of the subtle changes that their time apart has brought to her face and figure. Sakura looks bright-eyed, with a healthy flush to her fair skin. Although her dress is modest, he can tell that her body is softer than before, a little fuller at her bust and hips. He’s certain that her strength is still formidable, even without resorting to chakra-enhanced blows, but there’s an unfamiliar, supple flair in the round of her shoulders and the curves of her calves. She’s been living like a civilian all this time, and it shows.

He hopes that she’s had a peaceful break from the shinobi life. That caring for injured children in this faraway place has given her a chance to heal from the loss of their son.

“Sakura, I—”

I need you, Sasuke thinks. I looked for you every day since you left.

He can’t bring himself to admit to these hard truths, not now. He never has had as much courage as Sakura when it comes to matters of the heart. The kind of bravery that might allow him to say I love you when he doesn’t know that he’ll hear it back.

Sasuke swallows, takes an unsteady breath, and says, “It’s good to see you.”

Author’s Notes: Hi, all! I hate that it’s been such a long time since I updated this fic, but some of its subject matter became a little too personal over the last year for me to work on it. I don’t want to make any inaccurate promises about an update schedule, but I finally feel ready to get back into this story. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Thank you to everyone who's commented on, liked, or reblogged my fic; your kind words really encouraged me. And I'd be very remiss if I didn't also thank @xxlovendreamsxx. Her support, beta work, and beautiful SasuSaku stories have kept my love for this ship alive.

[concerthopperblog]

25th Anniversary Tour- Burn My Eyes: Machine Head (Atlanta - Center Stage)

Machine Head (heavy/groove/nu/thrash metal) started their most recent Burn My Eyes 25th Anniversary Tour in Phoenix, AZ (January 16th) at The Van Buren and since then all I could do was look at the calendar in anticipation for their January 30th tour stop at Center Stage in Atlanta. Why, you might ask? Well, let me tell you why this tour is very special for all Head Cases (this is a term used to describe fans of the band) out there. This show will actually consist of two (2) sets from Machine Head. The first set will consist of hits from the band over the years with the latest lineup of Machine Head performing. Currently, Machine Head is comprised of founding member Robb Flynn (vocals/guitar), Waclaw “Vogg” Kieltyka (guitar/backing vocals), Jared MacEachern (bass/backing vocals), and Matt Alston (drums/percussion).

Now since this is the 25th anniversary of their debut LP, Burn My Eyes, the second (2) set will be a happy reunion with most of the OG Machine Head lineup: Robb Flynn, Logan Mader (guitar/backing vocals), and Chris Kontos (drums/percussion) as they play the entirety of Burn My Eyes. Now to be fair, the LP was released in 1994 so technically the 25th anniversary was last year but, who really cares… 30 days into 2020 doesn’t matter to me or to the nearly sold out crowd in attendance at Center Stage for tonight’s show. I can still remember going with my friends up to Columbia, S.C. to a little club (I believe the name was Rockefellas’?) to see Machine Head play with Stuck Mojo while on the original Burn My Eyes Tour in 1995. What a night! Now I can experience it all again but this time I am behind the lens, capturing this moment for everyone who attends.

For their “hits” set, Machine Head gave us all a dose of what was to come with the new lineup. Hard, heavy, and full of energy, Machine Head completely leveled Center Stage with a barrage of songs that covered Machine Head’s nine (9) LP catalog. The smile on Robb’s face as the band took the stage said it all: Machine Head was still touring after 29 years as a band. That is a long time to dedicate to the constant grind of making an album, touring, resting, and repeat; but, Robb Flynn has been the man to do it successfully despite some bumps in the road along the way.

Take a look at the first set list… holy shit what mind-blowing start to the night!

               Set list: 1st set

Entrance music: “Diary of a Madman” – Ozzy Osbourne

1.       “Imperium”

2.       “Take My Scars”

3.       “Now We Die”

4.       “Beautiful Morning”

5.       “Locust”

6.       “I Am Hell (Sonata in C#)

7.       “Aesthetics of Hate” (w/ guitar solo)

8.       “Darkness Within”

9.       “Catharsis”

10.   “From This Day”

11.   “Ten Ton Hammer”

12.   “Is There Anybody Out There?”

13.   “Hallowed Be Thy Name” (Iron Maiden cover)

14.   “Halo”

Now for what we all have been waiting for- Burn My Eyes from beginning to end, with three (3) of the original members from this era of Machine Head. Seeing Logan and Chris back on stage with Robb was pretty magical… not going to lie. And I am pretty positive by the crowd’s reaction to the band taking the stage, that they all felt the same exact way. Since the track “Real Eyes. Realize. Real Lies” was the music that they used as entrance music, Machine Head had been substituting a mix of various hard rock/metal classics such as Slayer’s “South of Heaven” and “Raining Blood”, White Zombie’s “Thunder Kiss ‘65”, and Rage Against the Machine’s “Bulls on Parade”. For Atlanta’s show, we were treated to a mash up of Accept’s “Fast As a Shark” / “Balls to the Wall” and then a heartfelt tribute to Reed Mullin (Corrosion of Conformity’s drummer who recently passed away at the age of 53) by playing C.O.C.’s “Loss for Words”.

2nd set list: Burn My Eyes

Entrance music: “Real Eyes. Realize. Real Lies.”

1.       “Davidian”

2.       “Old”

3.       “A Thousand Lies”

4.       “None But My Own”

5.       “The Rage To Overcome”

6.       “Death Church”

7.       “A Nation On Fire”

8.       “Blood For Blood”

9.       “I’m Your God Now”

10.   Mash up: “Fast As a Shark” – Accept / “Balls to the Wall” – Accept / “Loss for Words” – Corrosion of Conformity (R.I.P. Reed Mullin)

11.   “Block”

Head over to Machine Head’s tour page and check out the remaining dates left on this tour before they finish up February 22nd in Anaheim, CA. at House of Blues. Now Machine Head did release a new single, “Do or Die”  on October 15th, 2019, so a new album should be on its way, so keep an eye open on Machine Head to release more new material in 2020!

Curious about Concerthopper? You can find more music related articles, interviews, various photo galleries, indie music reviews, our very own ‘Bars & Bites’ section, our exclusive “She Said, She Said” column, or become a Concerthopper at www.concerthopper.com. Sign up for our monthly newsletter by following this link: The Setlist! Please ‘Like’ our page on Facebook and follow us on Instagram in order to stay up to date in 2019 on all music related events/festivals such as: Gravity X Tour: Truckfighters w/ Valley of the Sun (Masquerade), Brainquility Music Festival, Okeechobee Music & Arts Festival, Cult of Luna / Emma Ruth Rundle / Intronaut: Live at The Masquerade, Drink the Sea 10th Anniversary Tour: The Glitch Mob live at Buckhead Theatre, OM w/ Wovenhand: Live at Terminal West, Black Label Society: Live at Georgia Theatre, Beach Slang: Live at The Masquerade, Weedeater / The Goddam Gallows / The Atomic Bitchwax: Live at The Masquerade, Devastation of the Nation Tour (The Masquerade): Rotting Christ / Borknagar / Wolfheart / Abigail Williams / Imperial Triumphant, The 69 Eyes / Wednesday 13: Live at The Masquerade, While She Sleeps / He is Legend: Live at The Masquerade, Bad Omens: Live at The Masquerade, Welcome to Rockville, Epicenter Music Festival, Sweetwater’s 420 Music Festival, Shaky Knees Music Festival, Trondossa Music & Arts Festival, Papa Joe’s Banjo-B-Que Music Festival, The Acacia Strain: Live at The Masquerade, Atonement Tour w/ Killswitch Engage & August Burns Red: Live at The Tabernacle, Inkcarceration Festival, In This Moment & Black Veil Brides: Live at The Tabernacle, Jinjer / Suicide Silence: Live at Buckhead Theatre, Celebrating 30 Years of The Mind is a Terrible Thing To Taste: Ministry, KMFDM, and Front Line Assembly live at The Masquerade, and Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival by following us on all social media formats: Concerthopper on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. 

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[gryphon1911]

And now we are on to the lessons learned portion of the trip.  The good, the bad, the ugly...the stuff to remember for next time. Also, please take into account that this is all coming from our personal perspective.  Remember that we are Ohioans and we are used to very humid environments and warm temperatures.  The fluctuation in temperatures from day to night is not as drastic as those temperatures in the high desert. Gear and Supplies I must admit that for the first time being to a place like this, we did pretty well on packing for the hikes and photography.  Some misses, though: Hiking:  The temperature swings were there, but it was warmer than we had been lead to believe from our research.  We brought along hats and hoodies...but didn't really need it.  I'm not going to say that the advice was bad...perhaps this particular trip was just different than the norm.  Again, coming from Ohio, our perception of the situation is probably different than someone else's. Photography:  I had ordered some neutral density(ND) and polarizing filters for my lenses, but there was an issue with the delivery and they did not make it to me before the trip.  There were times when a polarizer would have helped or an ND would have made things easier.  Will definitely have those for the next trip. Lessons Learned: the climate is a lot more erratic than you might be used to, so plan for the worst case scenario.   The camera and focal length I chose were near perfect for me....however, the strong high desert sun and reflective surfaces could have benefited from a polarizing and neutral density filter. Climate As mentioned before, Ohio is a humid place in the summer months.  Wyoming in late August/Early September is not.  Coupled with the haze of the surrounding states forest fires, the climate played havoc with my sinus'.   We got so dry that nose bleeds were common as were inflamed nostrils.   I needed quite a bit of nasal spray (Flonase) as well as a NeilMed Sinus Rinse to help get me through.  The local Walgreens also stocked a NeilMed NasoGel that helped to keep my sinus' properly lubricated from the dry environment.

Beyond that, we both found the temperatures to be great most of the days in the park.  It rained a little bit on one of the days, but it was barely enough to get anything wet.  Had we not been out in it, I would not have believed it rained at all. Since it is dry, and the dry heat doesn't feel the same as a humid heat....STAY HYDRATED!  The 3 liter Camelbak units were great as they carried plenty of water for a long day of hiking and site seeing. Lessons Learned:   If you are not used to dry climates, then bring along items that will help you cope with it.  Since it is very dry and not humid, you may over look your hydration.  Keep plenty of water and snacks with you.  It is very easy for the time to get away from you if you are not careful. Estimating Your Capabilities Not going to lie...we were so excited that our first day we hiked and drove a ton.    We were absolutely exhausted come the end of the day...so we took the next day and stayed in Cody.  Travel may have also played a role in the fatigue as well.   It was OK, too as the temperatures that day were the hottest they would be all week, so staying local and visiting some of the sites in Cody was a good alternative. Before leaving, I had already researched a lot of the trails through various sites and books.  They normally rated them on a 1 to 5 scale.  As with anything, you'll want to take these as subjective.   While there were definitely some that were harder than others - none were insurmountable.  All the same - we stuck to the ones rated 1 through 3 for this first trip.   Being our first time here, we really wanted to get an idea of what is there.  Subsequent trips will allow us time to do more of a "deep dive" into the park.   This trip gave us the much needed intel to have a much better second through "nth" trips. At a minimum, we hiked no less than 5 miles per day on trails but usually more to give you a frame of reference. Lessons Learned:  Know what your physical limitations are and work your site seeing and hiking around it.  Cell service is very poor in most of the park, so if you push yourself too far - professional help could be a long way off. Expectations on the Sites A lot of hype was built up on the thermal features.  To be honest, we were not really that impressed by them.  Sure, the geysers were fun and Morning Glory Pool and Grand Prismatic Spring were beautiful....but beyond that - it was of very little visual interest to us.  From a geological perspective - they are fascinating to be sure. Old Glory was fun and a great way to see a geyser go off.  However, we found that the other geysers behind Old Faithful to be just as fascinating.  For example - Beehive Geyser was a great show.  What we did not know was that the park rangers broadcast over a specific radio frequency and you can monitor that for park activity.  We were walking along the far west side of Old Faithful and heard on a passerby's radio "we have a water indicator at Beehive".  My wife asked what that meant and the guy told us that within 10 minutes Beehive Geyser should erupt and it was worth our time to get there.  Next time, I will be doing research on a suitable radio and the frequencies they broadcast on. Bear Spray.  We rented a unit for the week.  Since we were unfamiliar with the location we decided to make sure that we took proper precautions.  While there we did see a black and grizzly bear.  The black bear was much closer....and some of the trails were marked with signs stating that bear activity was seen recently on the trails we were on.   I just assumed that we might run into anything wild in the park at any time.  Better safe than sorry. I do hope that more money is placed into the Yellowstone Park for upkeep of some of the boardwalk areas.  Specifically Mammoth - a lot of the boardwalks were in horrible shape with lots of cracked  and loose boards.  I'm 235 lbs and I did not feel safe in certain areas of the terraces. When the second piece of paper they hand you after your park pass receipt states, "Yellowstone is a dangerous place".  Always keep that in mind.  I'm not saying to be paranoid.  I'm not saying you shouldn't go.   Just a friendly reminder to all that you are the visitor here and the animals here are wild and potentially dangerous.  This is as close to a safari type environment as the United States will probably ever have. In a way, it is very refreshing.   The lack of guardrails in places, the open environments is a far cry from the "nanny state" mentality that a lot of us must live under in our everyday lives.  They tell you right from the get go....it is dangerous here, proceed at your own risk, have a great time...your safety is on you!  I LOVE IT. Lessons Learned:  Yellowstone is hard to get a grasp around in your brain if you've never been.  I recommend doing as we did and spend a day just getting your bearings,  Drive the grand loop and hit some of the major points, noting what you want to go back to and explore in depth. No one is going to hold your hand here - your safety is on you.  Prepare accordingly. Don't allow your first impression of some sites tarnish your outlook on other similar sites. The People - Staff and Visitors Staff:   I'm not sure that I've run into a park staff that is more helpful, friendly and caring.  I really mean that.  It is a genuine love they have for the park and it really shows through.   We stumbled across a ranger led hike to Wraith Falls.  The volunteer ranger named Emily not only gave us great information, but was very personable.  We wanted to be her friend.  Not only did she tell us about the falls, but stopped along the way to discuss other features within eye sight of the trail.  Between stops, she took the time to talk with everyone in the group individually and learn a little bit about them. At Canyon Village, Ranger Susan gave us a lot of great recommendations for our visit.  She is the one that turned us on to a sunset drive through South Fork Road.  She also mentioned the scenic Chief Joseph trail drive to the NorthEast Entrance.  While doing that trip, we went through the Montana town of Cooke City and Silver Gate.   Silver Gate greeted us with an early morning breakfast at a local restaurant - one of the best we had the whole week. People:  I'd say that 99% of the people - people being visitors - were awesome.  Kind, generous, willing to have a conversation with a total stranger.  They come from all walks of life as well as all points of the globe.  Yellowstone brings them in.  What to look out for?  We did witness some incidents that could have been handled better. For instance, we were by Dunraven Pass and there was a black bear spotted down an embankment by the road.  It jammed up traffic pretty good.  Not 40 yards from the spot was a parking lot for a trail.  Some people got so over whelmed that they started pulling over into a non-existent shoulder on the road.   One woman almost drove her Jeep over the embankment.  It was so bad that one wheel was off the roadway.  When she tried to correct her error, she came inches from almost hitting another car behind her on the road. Another incident occurred at Mammoth.  The main parking area was full, and people were driving the lot waiting for other cars to leave.  One person stopped and waited, while another pulled around her to get into position for a spot on the other side of the lot.  Person 1 misjudged the intentions of the car they were waiting on.  Person 2 got a parking spot.  Person 1 decide that this was unfair and drove by Person 2 and scolded them for "taking their spot".  A very public and shaming scolding. It was such a shame too as there was a lot just to the other side of Mammoth that had 20-30 open spots and an access to the boardwalk from there. Lesson Learned:  Talk with people, both visitors and staff alike.  99% of the people there were more than happy to chat up for a minute and share what they know or saw.  You'll get some great insider tips on what to see, some less traveled trails and even sightings of wildlife or geothermal feature eruptions.  Keep your cool and always look for alternatives.  We found that there was plenty of parking and ample access to everything if you are patient. Well, that's the end of it.....my exhaustive view of the trip my wife and I made you Yellowstone.  Please, feel free to comment or email if you have any questions, tips, hints or information that you might deem useful to those of us that may want to go or plan to return to Yellowstone some day.