#elite four cypress

[puppyluver256]

More Art Fight! While I obviously steered away from this a bit with my first two, I had initially intended for my attacks this year to feature interaction with my own OCs. I've finally gotten to do that with Stella taking on my own Cypress, and this may be a challenge for her given she's brought four 'mons compared to his full team! But she's managed to take one out by this point, maybe she can make this work! :D

🎨 Good luck to all my fellow Art Fight participants! And most importantly, have fun!! 🎨

Zoroark, Mismagius's official form, and other Pokemon concepts © Nintendo/GameFreak Stella Ammons and Lionel the Zoroark © @forestfairyunicorn / @forestfairyunicorn-art Cypress Morgenstern, Cantessian Mismagius, and artwork © PuppyLuver Studios

[detectiphoenix]

A silly little Viravos-centric Pokemon AU where Viren is a Pokemon Professor, and Aaravos is a near-immortal Mythical Pokemon disguised as a human ~

I'll be tagging all art in this AU #phoenix's tdp pokemon au, so if the content bothers you, please block said tag! On the other hand, if you decide to make art/content of this AU, please use said tag 👀

Typed out tidbits underneath the cut!

AARAVOS, DARK/DRAGON MYTHICAL

Is "The Fallen Star"

Can appear as either his draconic Pokémon form or human - can also sprout horns and a tail if comfortable

Likes living as a human. Likes creating rumors about himself more

In his many years of life, has mastered fluent human Standard speak, but can also communicate telepathically

Horribly enamoured by the cute little Professor who thinks he's on top of the world

AMAYA HANSEN, GYM LEADER

Commands the easiest gym in the region, but boasts an impressive combat threat outside of gym battles

Celebrated for having extremely deep connections to her Pokémon

Favorite part about being a gym leader is giving new trainers their first badge

CALLUM ASPEN, POKÉMON TRAINER

Pokémon enthusiast!

Is very serious about his "catch-em-all" mission

Met Rayla when they were both trying to catch the same Pokémon

Acknowledges his last name is the name of the tree, and won't stop talking about his fate being to be a Pokémon Professor

CLAUDIA CYPRESS, POKÉMON TRAINER

Wanted to stay with her father to help him with his research, but he convinced her to stay with Soren for the time being

Determined to be a Pokémon Professor one day

An expert with her items and consumables

Cheers every time a trainer engages her in battle

EZRAN ASPEN, POKÉMON DAY CARE ASSISTANT

Is almost old enough to get his starter Pokémon, but isn't sure if he wants to be a trainer

Sneaks treats to all of the Pokémon under his watch

He thinks he's being sneaky, but everyone knows he's sneaking treats and no one says anything because all of the Pokémon adore him

HARROW ASPEN, POKÉMON CHAMPION

Defends his title with pride and a bright smile

Popular for his natural charisma, even outside of his region

His great-grandfather was a Pokémon Professor

Pip, a Talonflame he raised from a Fletchling, is his star fighter

JANAI COETZEE, ELITE FOUR

Despite being the newest member, is considered to be the most difficult challenge of the four

Often described as having a threatening aura during battle

After battle, however, her kind nature is clear

RAYLA COLLINS, POKÉMON TRAINER

Got the Pokémon

Determined to be the Champion one day

Wants to make her dads proud (they're already proud)

Began her journey saying she would only fight using stronger Pokémon to increase her chances at becoming the Champion, but gets extremely attached to every Pokémon she catches

RUNAAN COLLINS, RETIRED POKÉMON CHAMPION

Used to be the region's Champion, before retiring to spend more time with his husband and adopted daughter

Isn't that old, but has enough funds from his championship that he is able to live comfortably without a job

Still assists his husband, Ethari, with his Battle Items Shop

SOREN CYPRESS, POKÉMON TRAINER

The trainer that will run up to you and engage you in a Pokémon battle

Determined to be the Champion one day, or at least a cool gym leader in his home region

Very suspicious of that guy who keeps spending time with his father

Likes to travel across regions and bring his father Pokémon that don't appear in their home region

VIREN CYPRESS, POKÉMON PROFESSOR

Has spent the vast majority of his life researching "The Fallen Star"

Believes Aaravos to be a researcher as passionate as himself in the same field

Wants to be the first to discover "The Fallen Star", sees Aaravos as frustratingly intelligent competition

Needs reading glasses to read, but despises wearing them

Would have found "The Fallen Star" already, if not for an insufferably attractive individual's meddling

[wildflowercryptid]

For the last/surnames for your mjv pieces, is there any specific meanings/symbolism when you give them those surnames? Like “Hinoki” for Kieran & Carmine, since Hinoki means “cypress” and it’s a real life tree.

(Sorry if this is a specific question. This is my autistic brain and curiosity of fictional name symbolism)

YES, THERE IS!! i'm also an autistic person who's obsessed with name etymology so i love giving characters ( original or otherwise ) names that symbolizes something about them or something they're associated with.

since i didn't do this before, i'm gonna use this as an excuse to explain the etymology behind the full names i gave the SV kids! some of them are more interesting than others, fair warning.

putting it under a cut since this may get a little long.

CRATER CREW + KITAKAMI KIDS

FLORIAN RUSSEL CAVALLARI & JULIANA SIGAL CAVALLARI

> cavallari ( spanish, from "caballero" meaning knight, cavalier, or rider ) — referencing their connection to koraidon, the designated ride pokémon of scarlet. > russel ( french, little red ) — meant to signify his role as the protagonist of scarlet. > sigal ( hebrew, viola ) — meant to signify her role as the protagonist of violet.

NEMONA CAMINO VALIENTE

> camino ( spanish, road ) — references her role as the main companion of the victory road storyline. > valiente ( spanish, brave or bold ) — meant to signify her forward and adventurous nature.

ARVEN MITO ALFARO

> mito ( spanish, myth or legend ) — references his role as the main companion of the path or legends storyline. > alfaro ( spanish, the lighthouse ) — references the poco path lighthouse, the professor's old lab and his childhood home.

PEONELOPE " PENNY " CASSANDRA ESPINOSA

> peonelope ( peony + penelope ) — there's no real significance to this name choice, i just thought it'd be funny if peony continued the trend of shoehorning his own name into his kids' in increasingly ridiculous ways. > cassandra ( greek, to shine or excel ) — meant to sound similar to cassiopeia. it also made me think of shining like a bright star. > espinosa ( spanish, thorn ) — meant to reference penny's relation to chairman rose through her father, peony. this is actually her mother's maiden name, peony took her surname to distance himself from rose and kept it even after getting divorced.

CARMINE & KIERAN HINOKI

> hinoki ( japanese, species of cypress native to central japan ) — references their family's craft of mask making, as hinoki wood is commonly used to make noh masks.

TEAM STAR CAPTAINS

GIACOMO LAUREANO MORENA

> laureano ( spanish, laurel ) — larry's name from the spanish translation of sv. meant to reference my headcanon that larry is giacomo's father. > morena ( spanish, dark-haired ) — a loose reference to his dark type specialization.

MELA CANDELLA LUCERO

> candella ( spanish, candle ) — a loose reference to her fire type specialization. > lucero ( spanish, derivative of " luz " meaning light or morning star ) — also meant to reference her fire type specialization, along with her role as team star captain.

ORTEGA ÁLVARO VERA REGINO

> álvaro ( spanish, elf warrior ) — meant to signify his fairy type specialization. > vera ( spanish, river bank ) — pulled from veracidad, which i headcanon is the apparel company that ortega's family owns. it also references the ruchbah squad's base's proximity to the water. > regino ( spanish, from the latin " regis " meaning king ) — meant to signify the affluence of his family.

ATTICUS HENZO

> henzo ( from the scientific name of the fall-blooming anemone, eriocapitella hupehensis ) — atticus's name from the spanish & italian translations of sv. i thought it sounded fitting and i thought it was cool that it could be referencing hattori hanzō, ( who's name could be read as to partially conceal. )

ERI NESPERA

> nespera ( portuguese, common name for loquat ) — eri's name from the italian translation of sv. i just thought it sounded pretty.

BB ELITE FOUR

LACEY TAMAYO TURNER

> tamayo ( japanese, generational jewel ) — loose reference to her relation to lian, clay's hisuian ancestor. > turner ( from turnip ) — clay's name in the german translation of bw/bw2.

AMARYS NERINE

> nerine ( from the genus nerine ) — amarys's name in the original japanese of sv.

CRISPIN HINO

> hino ( japanese, fire ) — reference to his fire type specialization.

DRAYTON LIRIO

> lirio ( spanish, iris or lily ) — draydon's name in the spanish translation of bw/bw2.

also, here's the first post i made about their names, along with age, gender. and sexuality headcanons!

[travelwithsaurabhsblog]

Exploring Topkapi Palace: A Jewel in Istanbul's Imperial Crown

Introduction:

Nestled along the serene shores of the Bosphorus Strait in Istanbul, Turkey, Topkapi Palace stands as a timeless testament to the grandeur and opulence of the Ottoman Empire. With its rich history, stunning architecture, and breathtaking views, this majestic palace has earned its place as a jewel in Istanbul's imperial crown. Join us as we embark on a journey through the annals of history to uncover the secrets and splendors hidden within the walls of this iconic landmark.

Overview:

Topkapi Palace, constructed in the 15th century by Sultan Mehmed II, served as the primary residence and administrative center of the Ottoman sultans for over four centuries. Its sprawling complex of courtyards, chambers, and gardens offers a fascinating glimpse into the opulent lifestyle of the Ottoman elite. Visitors can explore the palace's magnificent architecture, delve into the intriguing history of the Imperial Harem, marvel at the dazzling treasures of the Treasury, and wander through the tranquil gardens. With its captivating allure and rich cultural heritage, Topkapi Palace remains a must-visit destination for travelers from around the world.

A Glimpse into the Past

Constructed in the 15th century by Sultan Mehmed II, Topkapi Palace served as the primary residence and administrative center of the Ottoman sultans for over four centuries. Its strategic location overlooking the Bosphorus Strait and the Golden Horn made it an ideal seat of power, allowing the rulers to govern their vast empire with authority and splendor.

The Architecture of Grandeur

As you step through the gates of Topkapi Palace, you're immediately struck by the sheer magnificence of its architecture. The palace's design is a stunning blend of Byzantine, Persian, and Ottoman influences, reflecting the diverse cultural heritage of the empire. From the intricate tilework adorning its walls to the towering domes and minarets that pierce the sky, every aspect of Topkapi Palace exudes an aura of grandeur and majesty.

Exploring the Courtyards

One of the highlights of any visit to Topkapi Palace is exploring its sprawling courtyards, each offering a unique glimpse into the palace's storied past. The First Courtyard, with its impressive Gate of Salutation, served as the main entrance to the palace and was once bustling with activity as courtiers and dignitaries passed through its gates. The Second Courtyard, home to the Imperial Council and the Divan, was where the sultan conducted state affairs and received foreign dignitaries.

The Magnificent Harem

No visit to Topkapi Palace would be complete without exploring its famed Harem, a labyrinth of opulent chambers and secluded courtyards where the sultan's family and concubines resided. Stepping into the Harem is like stepping back in time, with its beautifully decorated rooms, marble fountains, and lush gardens offering a glimpse into the luxurious lifestyle of the Ottoman elite.

Treasures of the Treasury

Another must-see attraction within Topkapi Palace is its Treasury, home to an astonishing collection of priceless artifacts, jewels, and religious relics. Here, visitors can marvel at the dazzling Spoonmaker's Diamond, one of the largest and most flawless diamonds in the world, as well as the legendary Topkapi Dagger, encrusted with emeralds and diamonds. Each treasure tells a story of the empire's wealth and cultural heritage, offering a fascinating insight into the opulence of the Ottoman court.

The Tranquil Gardens

Amidst the hustle and bustle of Istanbul lies an oasis of tranquility within the grounds of Topkapi Palace. The palace gardens, with their lush greenery, colorful flowers, and serene water features, offer visitors a welcome respite from the chaos of city life. Strolling along the shaded pathways, amidst fragrant rose bushes and ancient cypress trees, one can't help but feel a sense of peace and serenity.

Topkapi Palace Tickets: Unlocking the Doors to History

For those eager to embark on their own journey through the treasures of Topkapi Palace, securing tickets in advance is highly recommended. Topkapi Palace Tickets not only grant access to the palace's historic chambers and gardens but also offer visitors the opportunity to immerse themselves in the rich tapestry of Ottoman history and culture. Whether you're exploring the opulent halls of the Harem or marveling at the dazzling treasures of the Treasury, a visit to Topkapi Palace is sure to be an unforgettable experience.

Preserving a Cultural Legacy

Beyond its role as a tourist attraction, Topkapi Palace plays a vital role in preserving Turkey's cultural legacy for future generations. Through ongoing conservation efforts and educational programs, the palace continues to serve as a living museum, allowing visitors to connect with the country's rich history and heritage. From school children learning about the Ottoman Empire to tourists discovering the wonders of Istanbul, Topkapi Palace remains a cherished symbol of Turkish identity and pride.

Conclusion: 

In conclusion, Topkapi Palace stands as a jewel in Istanbul's imperial crown—a testament to the grandeur and opulence of the Ottoman Empire. With its stunning architecture, rich history, and breathtaking views, the palace continues to captivate visitors from around the world, offering a glimpse into a bygone era of splendor and intrigue. Whether you're a history enthusiast, an art lover, or simply in search of a moment of tranquility amidst the chaos of modern life, Topkapi Palace has something to offer everyone. So come, step back in time, and immerse yourself in the treasures of one of history's most illustrious empires.

[ozzyscollectiblehub]

Tiger Woods: The Masterpiece That Redefined Golf

When you think of golf, one name inevitably comes to mind — Tiger Woods. A legend in his own time, Woods has not only dominated the sport but also redefined what it means to be a golfer. His career is a masterpiece, characterized by unparalleled skill, mental toughness, and an unwavering commitment to excellence. From his early days as a child prodigy to his historic triumphs on the world’s biggest stages, Tiger Woods’ journey is a testament to the making of a true champion.

The Rise of a Prodigy

Born on December 30, 1975, in Cypress, California, Eldrick “Tiger” Woods was introduced to golf by his father, Earl Woods, at a very young age. By the time he was three, Tiger was already showing signs of greatness, and by the age of eight, he had won his first junior world championship. The world began to take notice of this young phenom, who seemed destined for greatness.

Tiger’s amateur career was nothing short of spectacular. He won three consecutive U.S. Junior Amateur titles from 1991 to 1993 and followed it up with three straight U.S. Amateur titles from 1994 to 1996. These accomplishments set the stage for his transition to professional golf, where he would soon become a household name.

1997 Masters: The Arrival of a Legend

Tiger Woods turned professional in August 1996, and it didn’t take long for him to make his mark. In April 1997, at just 21 years old, Woods won his first major championship at the Masters Tournament in Augusta, Georgia. His performance was nothing short of historic. Tiger not only became the youngest Masters champion ever but also set a record for the largest margin of victory, winning by a staggering 12 strokes.

The 1997 Masters was more than just a victory; it was a statement. Tiger Woods had arrived, and he was here to change the game. His dominance on the course, combined with his charismatic presence, brought a new level of attention to golf. Suddenly, the sport was no longer seen as the exclusive domain of the elite — it was accessible, exciting, and global, thanks to Tiger Woods.

A Decade of Dominance

The period from 1997 to 2008 is often referred to as the “Tiger Woods Era” in golf. During this time, Woods won 14 major championships, including four Masters titles, three U.S. Open titles, three Open Championships, and four PGA Championships. His ability to perform under pressure, coupled with his unmatched skill, made him the most feared competitor in the sport.

One of the most iconic moments of Woods’ career came at the 2008 U.S. Open. Despite playing with a severe knee injury, Tiger managed to force an 18-hole playoff with Rocco Mediate, which he won in dramatic fashion. This victory is often cited as one of the greatest displays of grit and determination in sports history.

The Comeback: 2019 Masters

After a series of personal and professional setbacks, including multiple surgeries and a highly publicized scandal, many believed that Tiger Woods’ best days were behind him. However, Woods proved his doubters wrong in the most spectacular way possible.

In April 2019, Tiger Woods won his fifth Masters title, 14 years after his previous win at Augusta. The victory was a culmination of years of hard work, perseverance, and an unyielding belief in himself. Woods’ 2019 Masters win is widely regarded as one of the greatest comebacks in sports history. It wasn’t just a victory; it was a reminder of Tiger’s place as one of the greatest athletes of all time.

Tiger Woods’ Impact on Golf

Tiger Woods’ influence on golf extends far beyond his individual accomplishments. He has inspired a generation of golfers, increased diversity in the sport, and brought golf into the mainstream in ways previously unimaginable. His success led to a surge in golf’s popularity worldwide, and his presence on the course often resulted in record television ratings and attendance.

Moreover, Woods has made a significant impact off the course through his charitable work. The Tiger Woods Foundation, established in 1996, has provided educational opportunities to millions of underserved youth. His commitment to giving back is yet another aspect of his legacy that will endure for generations.

Legacy

Tiger Woods’ career is a masterpiece — a blend of natural talent, relentless work ethic, and a deep love for the game of golf. From his early days as a child prodigy to his triumphant comeback at the 2019 Masters, Woods has consistently defied the odds and redefined what is possible in golf. His legacy is not just in the records he’s set or the titles he’s won, but in the way he has inspired millions around the world to chase their dreams, no matter the obstacles.

As we look back on Tiger Woods’ career, it’s clear that he is more than just a golfer; he is a cultural icon, a symbol of perseverance, and a testament to the power of human spirit. The “Tiger Woods Era” will be remembered as one of the most significant periods in the history of sports, and his influence will be felt for generations to come.

[coolrahulsarin]

Three Point Stance: Florida's Bright Future, Harold Perkins, Texas

New Post has been published on https://bestcustomjerseys.com/three-point-stance-floridas-bright-future-harold-perkins-texas/

Three Point Stance: Florida's Bright Future, Harold Perkins, Texas

Rivals.com National Recruiting Analyst Cole Patterson dives into three Mid-South related recruiting topics with college football in full swing this weekend, including why Florida still has an exciting future under Billy Napierhow good Harold Perkins will be and what this season could mean for Texas.

1. THE FUTURE STILL LOOKS BRIGHT FOR THE CAIMARES

It was not the start to the season that Florida charted, being pushed by Utah to open the second season of the Billy Napier was. But, because of the way the show is recruiting, it’s still too early for Gators fans to go into full-blown panic mode.

As things stand right now, the Gators have the No. 3 recruiting class in the country according to the Rivals national rankings. And most of it comes from the Center-South region.

Willis (Texas) quarterback DJ Lagway leads the way, and there’s optimism he could be the player Napier builds his program around as soon as he gets on campus. His fellow Texan Xavier Filsaime is an elite safety on the cusp of five-star status.

Mississippi four-star stars Jamonta Waller and Kahnen Daniels, along with Louisiana Rivals250 prospect Wardell Mack, also help form an impressive foundation for the incoming class in Gainesville. There’s still a lot to be excited about, even if the Gators could have a tough season.

SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH THE FLORIDA FANS AT 1ST AND HAVE FLORIDA

*****

2. WHAT’S NEXT FOR HAROLD PERKINS?

Harold Perkins (© John Reed-USA TODAY Sports)

Harold Perkins finished fair outside of the five-star range for Rivals in the 2022 recruiting cycle, landing 34th overall. It wasn’t long before Perkins demonstrated why he probably should have had that coveted fifth star during his first season at LSU.

Perkins quickly emerged as one of the elite defensemen in all of college football during his freshman year in Baton Rouge. He chases the quarterback at a high level, defends the run and is one of the best at moving from side to side, an element of his game that was evident at the high school level.

Now, expectations are even higher for the former Cypress (Texas) Park phenom. He and his LSU team will look to build on the success the Tigers enjoyed during brian kellyThe first season, starting with a tough season-opening test against Florida State on Sunday night in Orlando.

For Perkins to go one step further would go a long way in helping LSU potentially win the Southeastern Conference.

SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH LSU FANS AT DEATHVALLEYINSIDER.COM

*****

3. MAKE OR UNDO FOR TEXAS?

Steve Sarkisian (© Jerome Miron-USA TODAY Sports)

Texas has several things in the works for a big campaign this fall. Quinn Ewers is back and healthy, ready to lead steve sarksianThe offense in Austin. Guns like Xavier Worthy, Georgia transfer AD Mitchell, tight end Ja’Tavion Sanders and five-star freshman Johntay Cook are all that readiness for offense.

The defense returns Jaylan Ford at linebacker and added five-star Anthony Hill among the other defensive coordinator talent. pete kwiatkowski to unleash this upcoming season. Texas opens season with Rice before meeting Nick Saban and Alabama, led by former Longhorns commitment Jalen Milroe, in Week 2. That will reveal a lot about how much noise Sark and Texas can make in 2023.

Any win below double digits would leave a bad taste in the mouths of Texas fans. Especially considering it’s the show’s final season in the Big 12. A strong season could add even more juice and momentum before its move to the SEC.

However, a disappointing season could raise questions about whether the Longhorns will soon be able to compete in their new league. Seems like the stakes are high at 40 Acres.

SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH TEXAS FANS AT ORANGEBLOODS.COM

#Point #Stance #Floridas #Bright #Future #Harold #Perkins #Texas

[mychemicalficrecs]

Hiya! Not sure if you do this, but would you be able to suggest some non-ao3 finished frerard fics? It seems I've read ao3's entire collection 😅 Thank you so much, you're honestly my favourite blog on here xx

Thanks for your kind words, Nonny! And... congratz on reading the entire ao3 tag, there are a lot of works there :D

Frank/Gerard is such a popular ship that I was actually able to find quite a lot from outside ao3.

Non-AO3 Frank/Gerard

Thing-Thing by sinsense, 43k, NC-17. When Gerard signed the admissions paperwork for the Fordhaven School for Boys, he knew he was signing up for four years of sexual frustration. No one was gay at Fordhaven. Gerard was all-too-aware that he would be a virgin until he graduated. In his senior year, though, this stupid gay freshman disproves Fordhaven's straightness, and throws Gerard's entire world off-kilter. Now, in between drawing, avoiding bullies, running an incredibly serious tabletop RP game, failing out of math, and hanging out with friends, Gerard is also busy kind of falling for this asshole who's way too young for him. It's not what he planned on, but it's what's happening. In conclusion: high school sucks.

I Think I Thought (I Saw You Try) by thatsfinewithus, ~3,000, NC-17. Welcome to some weird AU world in which Gee only does awesome comics and Frank is a vampire.

They Came From Outer Jersey! by thatsfinewithus, 25k, R. New London Fire is an elite fringe government force assigned the task of protecting the earth from some of its more interesting threats: those from beyond the atmosphere or even the universe. They've handled dangerous cases before, but they've never seen anything like...ZOMBIES FROM SPACE. Vampires, long hunted in lore and legend, are now the earth's only saviors. There is little information as to who sent the creatures until Mikey Way, head of the NLF, finds out more by being abducted. Is it too late for him? Is it too late for the earth? Find out how six vampires, one government general, and one frustrated comic book artist save the earth in...THEY CAME FROM OUTER JERSEY!!

I never told you what I do for a living. by not0_fuckin_kay, 60k+, PG-13 to NC-17. Frank Iero, male nurse at Pete Wentz's private hospital and possibly more to one new patient he can't keep his eyes off of. When a new pateint is brought in with amnesia, just days before Christmas, and with nothing but the clothes on his back and a strange drawing, it's left to Frank to find out who he is and what happened to him. When he does, it changes Frank's life forever, as he's thrust into love and health scares he never thought would complicate his life. This is the story of how he tries to make it through, juggling his job and his love-life and just trying to make things better. With Patrick the doctor, Bob the ward supervisor, Travis the unlikely therapist, and Mikey, the sometimes wannabe homicidal geek.

Of All The Hidden Corners by moneyes, ~44K, PG-13. An epic, adventurous tale filled with alternate universes, lords, mischief, magical powers, snark, boyfriends, and luck of the bad kind.

All We Are by lightisbreaking, 21k, R. Set in the future, where humans are on the brink of evolution. For the select few born with a special awareness of their own minds - an awareness which gives them abilities beyond the norm, life is suddenly a very dangerous thing. Frightened of what this could mean, the government set out to make this new race of humans extinct, telling the public that these people are mentally unstable defectives and must be kept under observation for the safety of the public. All of this brings together a rather odd troupe of people, hiding from the government and eventually having to protect one of their own when he's taken into custody. Superpowers AU!

Tell Us a Story by bexless, imogenedisease, 32k, NC-17. The world as these kids know it is ending, and Gabe Saporta is throwing the party. High school AU based on the movie Can't Hardly Wait.

Stay Right Here by idktbh, swagneto, 28k, R. Frank is involved in an accident which renders him paralyzed from the waist down. When Frank begins to withdraw into himself, his relationship with Gerard crumbles and the band faces the hardest decision they'll ever make: whether to continue playing or not. This is a story about how MCR copes with the biggest obstacle of their career so far.

Return to Spirit Lake by inpurity, 22k, R. Gerard Way has left Spirit Lake when he was eighteen to study to become a veterinary surgeon, and with no intention of ever coming back. Twelve years later he is back, carrying secrets of a life spent away from his family and friends, and the weight of a dark, painful sorrow. His old home town has not changed, but his life, and the lives of the people he will meet along the way, will never be the same.

These Friday Night Lights by faux-disco-sins, 21k, PG-13. Gerard is the head cheerleader and wears the cheer skirt, Frank is on the football team, Pete is the school mascot, Ryan is the school’s hobo journalist, Jon does photography for the yearbook, Spencer and Patrick are in the marching band, Gabe and Ray are AV techs who do a ESPN spin-off for the school, Bob is the big scary lineman, and Mikey tries to fit in while ignoring the fact that his older brother is wearing a skirt in public.

Of Love And Superpowers by mcrnut, 20k, NC-17. Seventeen year old Frank Iero is in his last year at Mutant High. He has a couple of good friends, is doing okay in school and even though he has some issues with his Mother, life is pretty great. That is, until one day, when he overhears some of the professors talking about the well-known Anti-Mutant organization HSA and how they have already broken into two Mutant Academies and are heading their way. Frank and his friends have to stick their heads together and try to solve the mystery, and as if Frank didn't have enough to think about already, he finds himself falling for his friend's older brother, Gerard.

Cypress Grove by slashxyouxup, 24k+, NC17. My Chemical Romance fight off a town of sperm hoarding, men hating, PMSing maniac women in order to save themselves from certain doom! Also, Frank and Gerard get closer than close while pretending to not be completely in love with each other. Mikeyway is not amused.

Sleepwalker by lyrical_tragedy, 73k, NC-17. Frank Iero is one of the best cops in New Jersey so it’s only natural that his boss dumps a seemingly unsolvable case on him and his colleague Bob Bryar. With no leads whatsoever Frank enlists the help of Gerard Way, a reclusive young man who experiences strong visions and dreams of events from the past and visions of the future. However, none of them could ever begin to expect the terrifying chain of events that come into play once they delve deeper into the unknown, questioning Frank’s very beliefs on what the world actually holds. A story of visions, sacrifices, over protective brothers and love all in the midst of the attempted destruction of the world. The devil’s got your number and he will come calling, until it’s nothing more than hell on earth.

Patience Is A Virtue (You Might Be Good Looking, But You Can’t Sleep With Yourself Tonight) by eflorentino, 22k, NC-17. Frank Iero’s biggest hero is Gerard Way; the outspoken, obnoxious lead singer of the multi-platinum selling band My Chemical Romance. His world changes completely when he finds himself suddenly shoved into the limelight, playing sell-out shows every night and earning more than his usual $6 an hour. However, the infamously homophobic frontman isn’t what Frank expects, and after mixed signals and unsolved revelations he learns that, with Gerard Way, things are never simple.

But Nobody Cares If You're Losing Yourself by red_ones_fly, 16k, NC-17. It took me a while to work out that there was something wrong with Gerard, he kept it hidden well and, really, he didn’t even know something was wrong with him. To him it seemed like normal, everyday stuff. He never found any of his behaviour out of the ordinary. To him it was just reality.’ After Gerard's grandma passes away his behaviour becomes strange. He becomes less outgoing and more paranoid. As Frank tries to work out what’s going on with his friend/love interest, between school, learning psychology and dealing with the jocks, he doesn’t realise just how bad it is.

Parks and Recreation by vinvy, 35k+, PG-13. Gerard Way is an art school drop out with no prospects, student loans to pay off, and a dead end job. His mother works too hard and his little brother Mikey is keeping secrets. His boss runs shady contracts and smiles too much. It's nothing special and he tells himself that he'll learn to make peace with that- in the meantime he's got to carve out a living that doesn't involve artwork. Really, he's going to be okay. Then a crazy homeless kid comes along and screws up Gerard's Adventures in Normal Employment with his hippie magic and soulless eyes. Gerard can't shake the feeling that this guy "isn't quite right" but he's too busy fending off the freak accidents that are following him around to worry about that particular winged freak.

Empire Boys by noctecaelum, 30k, NC-17. In the city that never sleeps, it's tough to get your foot in the door. While Gabe Saporta may find it easy to blend into the socialite scene; Gerard Way spends his day blending eyeshadow at Bloomingdales. As newcomer Frank triumphs in Women's Lingerie, Gerard sparks a bitter rivalry in the vicinity of Lexington and 59th; but there's no use crying over spilt coffee because things are about to fire up. Meanwhile, on the Upper East Side, Gabe Saporta is none too pleased to read a socialite-bashing article, but when confronting the writer, he doesn't expect to meet fresh faced, pretty-boy William Beckett, who turns out to be the biggest tease this side of the Downtown Dunkin' Donuts.

The Evolution Index by theficisalie, 32k, NC-17. In a world where superpowers are just another thing that can get you sent to boarding school, Frank Iero and his friends know what it's like to operate under heavy levels of stress. After all, they did spend their formative years under the wings of the United States Government's most widespread and successful initiatives; a program that was created to protect and train young Americans with superpowers to become functioning members of society. And, as a side-benefit, the government realized that not only were telepaths great at taking drink orders, but they could also be trained to be highly successful secret agents. Under the guidance of Frank's volatile and (literally) power-hungry boyfriend Gerard Way; Frank, Mikey Way, and Ray Toro are an accomplished team of super spies. When a handful of people from Frank's sordid past crop up during an investigation of rash Superhuman disappearances across the country, the team finds themselves challenged both on and off the field as they fight to solve the mysteries plaguing their beloved nation. Frank knows all too much about uncovering things that he'd rather keep hidden, but can he and his team unravel the intricate web of crime and kidnapping surrounding Chicago without losing themselves in the process?

A Good Ocean Gone Wrong by xoxxblitz7, 32k, NC-17. Titanic AU - The Way's are one of the richest families in America and sometimes being an artist requires the need to travel. On the doomed maiden voyage of Titanic old friends are found, new love is formed and put to the test and the most luxurious crossing of the Atlantic ocean becomes a fight for survival.

A Fanfiction (In Which Gerard Has A Secret Stash of Star Wars Fanfiction) by sparklefap, 10k, R. Frank finds Gerard's bizarrely erotic Star Wars fanfiction, and is both disturbed and aroused by it. Those feelings won't do for Frank. He seeks revenge.

[pokemon-legends-and-legacies]

can you give us the names of each region's gym leaders in your au with some explanation about them...

[This content is out of date and no longer canon]

These aren’t fully set in stone so one or two might change in the future, and the details on just how some of them ended up Gym Leaders is still unknown, but here’s a general outline! (Sorry, the World page section on the Gym Leaders isn’t up to date. I’ll get on that.)Kanto Gym LeadersForrest Nibi (Pewter City, Rock-type Specialist)→ Brock gives the Gym to Forrest when he decides to pursue pokémon medicine.Peony Hanada (Cerulean City, Electric-type Specialist)→ Originally, Misty left the Gym to Daisy when she moved to the Orange Islands, but neither of Daisy’s children were interested in being the next Gym leader when she decided to retire. Violet’s daughter, Peony, on the other hand, loved battling and was the best candidate. She breaks the pattern of the previous Cerulean Gym Leaders by being an electric-type specialist like her father, however.Adriana Mitler (Vermillion City, Water-type Specialist)→ With Peony running the Cerulean Gym and Heather up to…. something, Lt. Surge had to look outside his daughters for successors. While I’m still not sure exactly how Adriana ends up running the Gym, she does have a connection to the Lieutenant, being his step-niece.Erika Tamamushi (Celadon City, Grass-type Specialist)Kestrel Sekichiku (Fuschia City, Poison-type Specialist)→ After Janine’s death, Koga comes out of retirement to take over being Gym Leader until his eldest granddaughter comes of age. Kestrel sees being Gym Leader as a chore more than anything and often has to be bribed to be there.Amaryllis Tokiwa (Saffron City, Fairy-type Specialist)→ After Sabrina leaves Kanto to pursue acting, her Gym is in…. someone’s hands (not sure yet). Eventually, Amaryllis ends up inheriting it and becomes Kanto’s first fairy-type Gym Leader..Kaito Mikami (Cinnabar Island, Psychic-type Specialist) → Having originally lived on the island many years ago, when Blaine retires, he asks his granddaughter-in-law’s cousin to take over the Gym, much to Kaito’s surprise. He also helps with the rebuilding efforts for the island.Mimi Aoyama (Viridian City, Multi-type Specialist) → When Gary retires to pursue research, it’s no question who will inherit the Gym, since he’d been training Mimi as his successor for a while. She follows in her husband’s footsteps and doesn’t stick to one type of pokémon, using the same team she traveled with on her pokémon journey.Johto RegionLyra Suzuki (Violet City, Flying-type Specialist)→ While the details are still shaky, Lyra inherits the Gym from Falkner when he moves to Kanto due to his marriage with Janine.Bugsy Hiwada (Azalea Town, Bug-type Specialist)Whitney Kogane (Goldenrod City, Normal-type Specialist) Karen Yoshino (Cherrygrove City, Dark-type Specialist) → Following Pryce’s retirement, Karen left the Elite Four to pursue her dream of opening a Gym in her hometown.Yuusuke Hasumi (Ecruteak City, Ghost-type Specialist)→ He inherits from his father, Morty.Chuck Sawada (Cianwood City, Fighting-type Specialist)Jasmine Asagi (Olivine City, Steel-type Specialist)Draco Fusube (Blackthorn City, Dragon-type Specialist)→ It is a bit of a tradition that the head of the Mikami-Fusube joint clans is the Blackthorn Gym Leader. The head of clan title switches between the two clans each generation, so while Clair was the previous clan head, Lance’s son Draco is the next one. Hoenn RegionRudy Jiang (Rustboro City, Rock-type Specialist) → He inherits from his mother, Roxanne. His twin sister inherits their father’s Gym.Safir Jiang (Dewford Town, Fighting-type Specialist) → She inherits from her father, Brawly. Her twin brother inherits their mothers Gym.Theo Heath (Mauville City, Fairy-type Specialist)→ Details are still unclear but he inherits when Wattson retires, most likely.Caleb Moore (Lavaridge Town, Fire-type Specialist)→ Inherits from his mother, Flannery.Wally Birch-Fang (Petalburg City, Multi-type Specialist) → Norman recommended Wally as his successor, much to Wally’s surprise, since May was busy being a Frontier Brain and Max was more interested in studying under Prof Birch. Winona Lu (Fortree City, Flying-type Specialist) Laelia & Trias Jin (Mossdeep City, Psychic-type Specialists) → They inherit from their father, Tate.Lisia Lu (Sootopolis City, Dragon-type Specialist) → She changes gears from coordinating to battling and takes over the Gym from her uncle Wallace when he becomes Hoenn Champion.Sinnoh RegionRoark Subotin (Oreburgh City, Rock-type Specialist) Gardenia Kobyakova (Eterna City, Grass-type Specialist) Natalia Rebreanu (Veilstone City, Steel-type Specialist)→ Maylene leaves the Gym in her hands when she becomes an Elite Four member.Crasher Wake (Pastoria City, Water-type Specialist)Ceres Severnaya (Hearthome City, Poison-type Specialist)→ Fantina befriended Ceres when the girl took an interest in coordinating while she studyed in Hearthome. When Fantina decided to retire to pursue coordinating full time, she named Ceres as her successor. Challengers have to complete math puzzles to reach her.Maisy Chistyakova (Canalave City, Dark-type Specialist)→ Byron heard about her through fellow Gym Leader Volkner, as Maisy is his niece. She apprenticed under him and he liked her spunk enough to name her his successor. She’s done…. interesting things to the Canalave Gym decor, in usual Maisy fashion.Candice Nakamura (Snowpoint City, Ice-type Specialist) Volkner Tatarintsev (Sunnyshore City, Electric-type Specialist) Unova RegionCheren Rysinov (Aspertia City, Normal-type Specialist) Roxie Helias (Virbank City, Poison-type Specialist) Gabriele Campanula (Castelia City, Ground-type Specialist) → He thought his father’s old job of being a Gym Leader sounded fun, so when Burgh retired to focus on his art, Gabe got himself into the position of next Gym Leader through some dubious methods.Elesa Tatarintseva (Nimbasa City, Electric-type Specialist)Stephan Dunstan (Driftveil City, Fighting-type Specialist) → Details are still unclear on how he inherits from Clay.Jerrie Vidales (Mistralton City, Steel-type Specialist) → Inherits from her mother, Skyla. The Gym still has an airplane theme to it since Jerrie loves planes so much.Marlon Naryshkina (Humilau City, Water-type Specialist) Noah, Micah & Terah Pendragon (Opelucid City, Dragon-type Specialists)→ As Drayden’s eldest grandchildren, the triplets are the natural choice for his (and Iris’) successors, though Iris’ eldest, Cypress, is gunning for the position as well.    Kalos RegionViola Leroux (Santalune City, Bug-type Specialist) Grant Leroux (Cyllage City, Rock-type Specialist) Chili von Schwan (Shalour City, Ghost-type Specialist)→ He takes over the Gym when his wife, Korrina, becomes an Elite Four member. His Gym is themed like a magic show, with Chili as the master of illusion and his ghost pokémon as his assistants.Mairin Sycamore (Coumarine City, Grass-type Specialist)→ She inherits from her grandfather, Ramos.Clemont Brassard (Lumiose City, Electric-type Specialist) Sawyer Sheng (Laverre City, Multi-type Specialist) → Details are still unclear but he inherits when Valerie moves to Kanto.Azariah Arcelus (Anistar City, Dark-type Specialist) → I have no idea how he ends up here, but that’s just how it is with Azariah really.Evelyn de Beauvilliers (Snowbelle City, Water-type Specialist)→ I’m also still not sure on the details, but she takes over from Wulfric through some series of events.

[puppyluver256]

You don't get to run a planetarium if you don't have an ongoing interest in the night sky your facility tries to replicate c:

💖🐶 Check out my pinned post for ways to support my artwork, among other things! 🐶💖

~Feedback helps to motivate my work, so let me know what you think! The best way to do that is via reblogs (both through tags and comments added onto the posts), but replies are great too! If you don’t have anything specific to say but still enjoy the art, a like is very much appreciated!~

Mismagius and other Pokemon concepts © Nintendo/GameFreak Cypress Morgenstern, the Cantessy region, Cantessian Mismagius, and artwork © PuppyLuver Studios Stars in the background are taken from a NASA photo and thus are part of the public domain.

[hmhteen]

HMH TEEN TEASER: EMPRESS OF ALL SEASONS by Emiko Jean!

We’ve got another taste of HMH Teen for you, and this time, it’s a gorgeous fantasy inspired by Japanese mythology! Every generation, a competition is held where girls across the kingdom compete to marry the Emperor...and become the next Empress. To do so, they must conquer magical rooms with powers infused by the seasons—Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. Mari is one of those girls, with big dreams to win the contest, and the Emperor’s heart. But not because she loves him...because she has to steal his fortune. In order to do so, she’ll need to keep her forbidden magic a secret and survive—without falling in love along the way.

Scroll down to read an excerpt of EMPRESS OF ALL SEASONS.

***

CHAPTER ONE- Mari

BREATHING IN THE DARK, and not her own.

Mari tilted her head. She couldn’t see in the pitch-black, but she closed her eyes. It helped her focus. She knew this space well, this room with no windows and an almost airtight door. Sometimes the musty smell invaded her dreams, morphed them into nightmares. The Killing Room, and Mari was executioner.

She inhaled, holding the stale air in her lungs. There, in the right corner, two feet away, someone waited. Afraid.

Mari stepped forward, the floorboards creaking under her weight.

“P-p-please,” a high-pitched male voice wailed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, letting a note of reassurance enter her voice. Not yet, anyway. She probed the wall. Her fingers brushed against a wooden ledge, then paper pulled tight over a bamboo frame. Matches rested next to the lamp. She struck one and lit the cotton wick, illuminating the room in a soft glow. The scent of rapeseed oil crept through the air. When her eyes refocused, she saw that the man was dressed in hakama pants and a surcoat. Samurai garb. The uniform of the military elite.

“Gods and goddesses,” he said, mouth lifting into a sneer, “I thought you were one of them. Why, you’re no taller than a sapling! What happened, little girl, did you lose your mommy?”

Mari regretted her paltry effort to comfort him. That’s what you get for being nice. Men. They always underestimated her.

Opposite the man, a variety of weapons leaned in the corner: a sickle and chain, a bow and arrow, a nunchaku . . . Mari gestured toward them. “Choose.” She liked to give the men a fighting chance. I’m sporting that way.

The samurai huffed. “You don’t know what you ask, little girl. I trained at the Palace of Illusions with the shōgun himself.”

Mari clenched her teeth. This was growing tedious. “I said, choose your weapon.”

The samurai strolled to the corner. He rifled through the weapons and selected a katana and a wakizashi.

Predictable. The long and short swords were samurai weapons. Her opponent brandished them, sharp-edged steel blades glittering in the lamplight.

Mari sauntered to the corner and quickly chose her own instru- ment. Always the same. The naginata. The reaping sword was a long bamboo pole culminating in a wicked curved blade. Thought to be a woman’s weapon, none of her opponents ever selected it. It was the only weapon Mari knew how to wield. “If you train on all weapons, you will master none,” her mother always said.

Mari stamped the naginata on the ground. Dust billowed around the hem of her navy kimono. “I’m very sorry, but from this moment, you’re dead,” she said, unsheathing the blade.

The samurai laughed, the sound robust and biting.

Mari cut his chortle short. She dipped into a crouch, letting the pole end of the naginata swing out in an arc, clipping the back of the samurai’s knees.

He collapsed with a loud thud. Mari winced. The big ones always fall the hardest.

“That was a mistake,” he said, clambering to his feet. He crossed the swords in front of him, a dangerous glint in his eye.

At least he’s taking me seriously now. “No,” Mari corrected. “That was intentional.”

The samurai rushed her, and she followed suit. The blade end of her naginata clashed against his big sword. Sparks flew.

The samurai jabbed with the smaller sword, and Mari dodged. A hairsbreadth from being impaled. That was too close. Her pulse quickened with fear and excitement. This samurai is well-trained. Before the samurai could pull back, Mari began twisting the naginata, catching both of his weapons in the windmill. Forced to let go, the samurai dropped his swords, which scattered to the ground, a few feet away. Well-trained, but not as well-trained as I.

She couldn’t allow him time to take a breath, to reach for his weapons. End this. She snap-kicked, her right foot connecting with his abdomen. The samurai grunted and doubled over. He clutched his stomach as he tipped to the ground.

She stood over him, breath ragged, victory sealed. Warmth radiated through her body. She felt the beast rise within her, felt her brown eyes dissolve into twin black abysses. Her hands flexed as muscles spasmed and bones popped. Her fingernails grew into black pointed talons. The skin on the back of her hands bloomed with leathery, charcoal-colored scales as tough and thick as a rhinoceros hide. She ignored the agony of transformation. She had trained her- self to shut it out.

The samurai stared, horror-struck.

She knew she looked hideous — still part human, but with the eyes and hands of a monster. She brought her face close to the samurai’s, and when she spoke, her voice came out as a rasp. “You were right after all. I am one of them.”

 CHAPTER TWO- Taro

TARO RUBBED THE MARK between his eyebrows, where pain blossomed. For someone chosen by gods and goddesses, he’d certainly suffered his fair share of ailments during his seventeen years of life.

The ache between his eyebrows pulsed, beating in time with the hive of activity surrounding him. In the Main Hall, servants bustled, scrubbing the zelkova floor on hands and knees, dusting the rafters with peacock feathers, polishing the four sets of statuesque doors, one for each season. Preparations for the competition had begun weeks ago.

Most days, the commotion was enough to grate on Taro’s nerves, a reminder that his hard-won solitude would soon end. But today, that was not what annoyed him. Today it was a disturbance so great that he’d heard it from inside his workroom, clear on the other side of the palace.

His features darkened at the spectacle before him. Two imperial samurai, clad in black lacquered armor, dragged a screaming kappa into the Hall. A muscle ticked in Taro’s jaw at the sound of nails scraping across metal. The kappa’s green webbed feet left a trail of slimy, muddy water on the high-glossed floor. A servant girl who had just finished cleaning it gasped and skittered off, vacating the space with the rest of the workers.

Behind the kappa trailed a retinue of priests. Their dove-gray robes brushed the ground, their steps careful and measured. Their voices were synced as they chanted curses in a song so beautiful, it made humans weep.

Unfortunately for the prisoner, the words were earsplitting to kappa, indeed to all yōkai. Chains, shackles, and wooden cages were unnecessary. The priests’ chants kept the kappa locked tight in an in- visible torture chamber.

Smaller than a human child, with a turtle-like shell on his back and an orange beak protruding playfully from his feathered face, the kappa didn’t appear to be a threat. He was sweet-looking. Cute. Seemingly benign.

Things are rarely as they appear. Taro knew this to be true. He lived in the Palace of Illusions, after all. He also knew that kappa were notorious for their strength, possessing five times that of a human man, and for their love of entrails, usually harvested from live victims. Taro placed a hand over his stomach. No wonder the servants fled the Hall.

The kappa’s screams ceased, quieting to a coo. The language he spoke was unintelligible to humans, but Taro recognized the plaintive tone of his voice. The kappa pleads for his life. As they passed, the samurai and priests bowed to the emperor’s son. Taro inclined his head, the barest hint of recognition.

The entourage slowed at a set of mahogany and cypress doors. A bar, made from the trunk of a thousand-year-old oak tree, rested across, blocking what was inside from getting out. A relief of a mountain covered in gleaming snow was carved into the wood.

The Winter Room. As with each of the Seasonal Rooms, it could be used for pleasure, or for pain.

Today, it is pain.

A sick feeling took root in Taro’s gut, but his countenance remained stoic. He was good at wearing masks. His favorite was a formidable expression. He used it often. So often that sometimes he forgot who lay beneath.

The samurai dumped the kappa just outside the Winter Room doors. The creature whimpered, its spindly limbs curling in like a dried leaf. Unwilling to watch, Taro flicked his gaze to the tattooed priests. Cobalt ink covered their bodies. Even their faces were permanently branded with swirling, calligraphed curses. If a yōkai touched a priest’s skin, it would burn.

Grunting, the samurai lifted the oak bar, then stepped back, the heavy wood weighing down their shoulders. The doors sprang open. Snow flurries escaped, melting in the warmth of the Main Hall. Icy air brushed Taro’s cheeks, and his lips twitched. From the depths of the room, he thought he heard the echo of his long-gone laughter. As a child, he’d played in the snowfields and hidden in the Ice Forest. Now only death walked there.

Footsteps echoed behind him. The priests and samurai sank to the ground. Stillness descended, punctuated by the low hum of the priests’ chants. Only one man commanded such a reception. Taro’s father, the emperor, divine ruler of humans and yōkai, Heavenly Sovereign, paused beside him. Heat rose on Taro’s neck as his father’s shoulder brushed his.

They were the same height now, almost mirror images of each other, except for the fine lines of aging that had settled around the emperor’s mouth and eyes. Their broad shoulders swathed in purple robes cut imposing figures. Their hair was shaved on both sides but left long on top and pulled into knots. On their left hips, they wore the long and short swords, a nod to their samurai training. It was not enough to be chosen by gods. Ruling an empire required strength and force, the fierceness of a dragon. Traits Taro had always lacked. Until now.

Born prematurely, Taro had been a sickly child, small  and given to coughing fits. In the last two years, he’d undergone a semi-metamorphosis, shedding his frailty. His lungs had cleared, and his muscles had thickened, his build now as massive as a bear’s. Sometimes when he gazed at his hands, he didn’t recognize them, the blunt strength in his fingertips, the power of his grip.

Taro kept his eyes forward as the emperor cast him a searching glance. If his spine straightened any more, it might snap. His father studied Taro often, now that he’d grown.

��Father,” Taro said in a monotone.

“Son,” the emperor replied. The emperor’s voice always made Taro think of rusted iron — cold, hard, crusted, useless. “I thought you would be off playing in your workroom.” Taro swallowed against the bite of his father’s tone. The emperor had very definitive views on what made a man. Men did not cry. Men were not small. Men sought power and dominion. Taro spent most days avoiding his father.

The emperor’s driving purpose was to rid the East Lands of yōkai. Taro craved privacy, quiet spaces where he could invent things. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were made up entirely of gears and springs, his childhood nurse had often commented. The emperor certainly never understood his son’s passion for engineering. Rumors swirled that there was a time when the emperor had been softer, that he had loved deeply and without judgment. If this was once the case, Taro had never witnessed it. And as for Taro, he knew what the servants and courtiers whispered about him. The Cold Prince. More metal than human. A man without a heart. Perhaps this was true.

“I heard the commotion.” Taro didn’t bother to hide his annoyance. A muscle rippled along his jaw.

“We caught a kappa in the moat,” said the emperor.

Taro expelled a breath. The kappa must have been starving to risk coming so close to the palace.

His father arched a single silver brow.“Unbelievable, isn’t it?” The emperor waved an impatient hand and spoke loudly.“Enough.”

The chanting ceased.

The kappa  stilled.  His eyes — black, wounded, beseech- ing — rested on the emperor.

“His odor is offensive,” the emperor intoned. The Main Hall did smell like fish and pond water. The emperor jerked his chin. “Throw him in the Winter Room.”

Kappa may not understand human words, but this one clearly comprehended a death sentence. The kappa’s eyes sharpened into res- olute points. The creature opened its beak, screamed, and shoved the samurai.

For one glorious moment, the imperial guards were airborne, their bodies graceful arcs, hyperextended in space, and Taro marveled at the small yōkai’s strength. The samurai crashed into the wall with a dull clunk, slumped and dazed.

A gust of snow from the Winter Room swirled into the Hall, obscuring Taro’s vision. Out of the white, the kappa barreled toward Taro and his father, webbed hands outstretched, beak open in a shriek.

Taro squared his shoulders, counted his breaths. One. Two. Three. His mask did not slip. Nor did the emperor’s. For all their differences, they shared a few traits. A cold air. Pride. No one would dare defy the emperor or the prince. To do so would be to court the wrath of the gods and goddesses. Religion was the emperor’s greatest weapon.

The priests quickly resumed their chanting, climbing to their feet and beginning to sway. The kappa paused, clasping his webbed hands over his ears. A futile effort. The air thickened and crackled with the priests’ incantations. The Hall grew colder. The kappa toppled to his knees, doubled over. Paralyzed.

The emperor barked at the dazed samurai.“Get up.”

Slowly, the samurai regained their wits and dragged the kappa’s limp body to the threshold of the Winter Room. Taro turned a cheek as they threw him in.

If the kappa was lucky, the frigid temperatures would kill him before the predators did. The Seasonal Rooms created their own weather, aided by Master Ushiba, the revered Seasonist. A blizzard could come. In the Winter Room, that might be the quickest way to die.

A final wave of cold air blasted Taro as the doors swung shut. At least it isn’t the Summer Room. His features tightened at the thought.

The blazing heat pressed down like a hot iron, blistering the skin of its victims.

The oak bar thudded back into place. The kappa screamed, beat- ing tiny fists, rattling the doors. Another futility. The doors would hold against the kappa; they held against oni, the strongest yōkai. Taro turned and began to stride away.

“You won’t stay?” his father called after him.

Something inside Taro clenched. A sound of disgust emanated from low in his throat, and he allowed his mask to slip, just this once. “I’m afraid not everyone has such a taste for death as you,” he replied.

The emperor laughed. “Go hide in your workroom. But I will expect you at dinner tomorrow night. We need to discuss the competition.”

Taro bit his tongue. The competition. His heavy footsteps matched the dull thud of his heartbeat. In a matter of days, hundreds of young women would descend upon the palace, armed and hopeful. The rules were simple: Survive the Rooms. Conquer the Seasons. Win the prince.

Taro seethed at the threat to his hard-won solitude and the ri- diculousness of his being reduced to a prize to be won, a thing to be auctioned off. He shook his head. No. He would not stand idly by while his entire life was taken from him. Girls may come. They may conquer the Rooms. One may even win. But Taro would not marry her. He had a plan.

CHAPTER THREE- Mari

THE SUN WAS just an orange flicker on the horizon, and the green trees appeared black against the encroaching twilight. Slushy snow dotted Mari’s path, winter’s last stand against the spring. She hastened her steps toward home, hunching her shoulders against the crisp wind. Best not to be caught in the forest after dark.

Just as the final ray of light sank beneath the horizon, Mari ex- ited the woods. A clean scent hung in the thin air. She inhaled deeply. Home.

A few steps, and Mari arrived at the gates of Tsuma, her village. Paper tied to the iron bars flapped in the wind. Below were gifts, trib- utes left for her people, their packaging absurdly bright against the black gates and gray stone wall surrounding Tsuma. Travelers rarely ventured up the mountain. Those not acclimated to the altitude often suffered headaches, insomnia, and dizziness — Mountain Madness.

But some — human and yōkai — would risk it.

They came to leave offerings for her clan — fish, flowered hairpins, silk embroidered obi, even copper coins. Affixed to each tribute was a mon, a familial crest in the shape of a mandarin orange, a three- leaf hollyhock, or intersecting loops. A fool’s errand. Mari’s top lip curled as she bent to collect the bribes. Her clan would enjoy the gifts, but they would not spare those families. Everyone was fair game. Prey.

Mari navigated Tsuma’s barren roads by memory. Though the village was small, it was built like a puzzle. The streets had no names, and the houses no numbers. The homes were all similar — wooden and unadorned. The steep thatched roofs always made Mari think of hands clasped in prayer. Many feared Mari’s clan, and just as many would like to see them destroyed. Only Tsuma’s inhabitants knew who resided in each home, how each piece of the puzzle fit together.

Two left turns, fourteen steps, and Mari was home. Light glowed behind the shuttered windows of her cottage. Hand on the door, she paused, taking a breath to steady herself. Facing imperial samurai in the shed was one thing. A more formidable opponent awaited her inside. Mari shook her head and laughed at her childish fear. It’s only your mother.

Inside, she slipped off her sandals, dumped the tributes, and padded into the tatami room. Under her feet, the floor squeaked. Another small measure of protection: boards that sang so that no one could sneak up behind you. Warmth prickled her hands and cheeks as the wooden interior of her home came into focus. Save for a low table, the tatami room was intentionally bare. To any who entered, the home appeared simple. Poor. But beneath the singing floorboards was hidden untold wealth.

“You’re late.” Her mother’s quiet, even voice drifted from the kitchen.

Usually, a screen partitioned the rooms, but tonight it was folded aside. Framed in the archway, her mother made a pretty picture as she bent over the irori. In the small hearth, an orange flame licked the bottom of a cast-iron teakettle. Steam charged from the spout, unleashing a low whistle. Mari’s mother, Tami, poured the boiling liquid into a ceramic teapot on a plain wooden tray. Flowery notes scented the air. Jasmine tea. Mari’s favorite. With practiced grace, her mother shuffled into the tatami room and placed the tray at the center of the low table. “How did it go?” Her mother knelt and began to pour.“Mari?”

Shaken from her cold trance, Mari stepped forward.“People will look for an imperial samurai.”

Her mother delicately shrugged a shoulder, taking a sip of tea.“A disgraced imperial samurai. He liked the hostess houses too much, frequented ones with young girls.” Mari shuddered. “No one will come for him. Sit,” her mother commanded. Mari obliged, settling across from her.“Now, how did everything go?”

Mari sighed, folding her hands together atop the table. “Every- thing went fine. He didn’t even take my weapon.” Her chin jutted up smugly.

Her mother’s dark eyes flickered.“It is the last one.”

Mari’s heart tripped in her chest. Her smugness slipped away, unease taking its place. Soon a far more perilous journey would be- gin.

Her mother ran a manicured finger over the lip of the ceramic cup.“It’s a shame you didn’t inherit my looks.”

At her mother’s words, Mari felt the tiniest pinch, as if a needle pricked her side. If only your hair had the same shine as mine; yours is so dull and lifeless. It’s too bad your teeth overlap in such an unfortunate way. Perhaps if you stood straighter, you wouldn’t look so . . . substantial. As always, Mari couldn’t help staring at her mother, at everything she should have been and wasn’t — long hair the color of the midnight sky, golden skin that never needed powder, a graceful, lithe bod

These days, Mari rarely looked in mirrors. She had abandoned hope that her reflection would change a long time ago. She’d stopped growing at five feet. She wasn’t fat, but she was thickly muscled, sturdy. Her face was round, the shape of an apple. She wasn’t ugly. She was plain. And in a village of preternaturally beautiful women, average meant unattractive.

The only trait Mari shared with her mother, shared with all Animal Wife yōkai, was the beast hidden inside her human form. Animal Wives were born for a singular purpose: to trick men into marriage and then steal their fortunes. Men are conditioned to take. Women are conditioned to give, Mari’s mother once told her. Long ago, our clan decided to stop giving and start taking.

Mari ignored her mother’s comment. She refused to apologize for her many deficits.

Wind beat against the shuttered windows, and a cry drifted through the slats. Not wolf, bear, or owl. Animal Wife. Mari startled to attention, her mother’s words forgotten. She knew the origin of the wail.“Hissa is still in labor?”

“You are pale. I’ve saved you some dinner,” her mother said, pushing a covered tray toward Mari.

Mari lifted the cloth from the tray, revealing a bowl of sticky rice topped with strips of dried seaweed. Her stomach roared. Hissa can wait a few seconds more. She dug her fingers in and shoved a scoop of rice into her mouth.

“Mari,” her mother chided. “Have you forgotten how to use hashi?”

Mari shrugged. It was a small victory, offending her mother’s delicate sensibilities. “It tastes better this way.” She licked her fingers with a smack.“Hissa?” she prodded.

Her mother’s lips pressed together. She shot a pointed look to the unused chopsticks. Mari’s fingers curled on her lap. A standoff. Her mother would not dole out information until Mari complied. With a sigh, Mari picked up the two sticks and proceeded to eat with them. She should have known better than to spar with her mother. She is the one opponent you’ll never beat. One look, and you shrivel like a slug doused with raw salt.

Her mother was slow to answer. “Still in labor. But her time approaches.”

Mari chewed a bite of rice and swallowed.“I hope she has a girl.” “That would be nice.” Tami smiled, an odd combination of bitter

and biting. At this, Mari tensed. She was an only child, but not the only child her mother had given birth to. Two boys had come before Mari. Two half brothers she would never know. Because Tsuma kept her daughters and discarded her sons. Animal Wives’ traits passed only to females, making them full-blooded yōkai. Boys were halflings — abominations.

Mari focused on filling the pit in her stomach. A knock sounded at the door. Mari’s chewing slowed. Who can it be? Visitors past dark were uncommon.

The door slid open, bells tinkling. Ayumi entered, her sandals still on, a sure sign of bad news. “Forgive me, Tami-sama,” she addressed Mari’s mother.

“Hissa?” Mari asked, her heartbeat quickening under her ribcage. “Yes. She’s had her baby.” Ayumi scowled furiously. “A boy. She

refuses to let him go.”

Mari’s mother sighed and stood.“I will come.”

Mari rose to her feet as well. Tami regarded her daughter, indeci- sion etched in her expression. She is going to order me to stay home. A little ball of rebellion loosened in Mari’s veins. She inhaled through her nose, ready to argue, to insist she be included. I won’t be left be- hind. She’d never attended a delivery. But this was Hissa. Her best friend.

A year ago, Mari had kissed Hissa’s fair cheeks, bidding her good- bye before she departed Tsuma. Two months later, Hissa returned, her hands spilling over with riches, a triumphant smile lighting her face. Hissa had tricked a wealthy merchant into love and marriage, and on their wedding night, she stole away with his most valuable wares — heavy silk kimonos, washi paper, umbrellas wrought from the finest bamboo . . .

Everything would have been perfect. If only Hissa hadn’t been pregnant.

As her pregnancy bloomed, Hissa grew zealous in her belief that the child would be female. “It will be wonderful,” she told Mari, stroking her abdomen where the baby kicked. Mari remembered how lovely Hissa looked then, beaming and radiant. Glowing. “I’ll have a little girl. You will be her auntie. Auntie Mari! We’ll dress her in silks and play puppets.”

Mari’s heart lodged in her throat. Her friend had been so high on hope. How far she’d fallen. But Mari would be there to catch her.

Tami’s mouth opened and then shut with an audible click. She jerked her head toward the door. “Come on, then.” A flush of relief spread through Mari’s limbs, and she stowed the little ball of rebel- lion away for another time.

She followed her mother and Ayumi out the door. I’m coming, Hissa. Through thick or thin, the friends once had promised each other. Through boy or girl, Mari amended. A new life had come into their village, and just as quickly, it would be snuffed out.

CHAPTER FOUR- Taro

FIVE MINUTES PAST MIDNIGHT, and Taro wasn’t sleeping. Exhaustion chased him like a dog, but he would not succumb. While he waited for the rest of the palace to slumber, Taro worked. Deep in the palace, in an all-but-forgotten room, the prince built . . . things.

His eyes grew bloodshot, and his limbs ached as he hammered copper into thin sheets. Grease coated his hands and gummed up under his nails. With every bang of the hammer, he sought to drive out the kappa’s cries, his begging in his native tongue.

It’s no use. Taro’s throat constricted with emotions he refused to feel. The kappa’s screams haunted him, a battering ram bashing at his self-control, daring him to react. A fitting punishment for standing by and watching as the tiny creature was executed — and for what? For swimming in the imperial moat? For being born yōkai?

What if he had spoken up, opposed his father? It was unfathom- able. The emperor considered any expression of sympathy for yōkai a weakness. Taro had learned his lesson long ago.

Only once had he asked for the life of a yōkai to be spared. Taro was ten and didn’t understand the depths of his father’s hatred.

The yōkai was a tanuki, a small gray-and-black-furred animal with the head of a raccoon and the body of a dog. Taro had found the starving cub in the tea garden. He cuddled the emaciated creature to his chest, repeating the comforting words his nursemaid would whisper to him. There, now. It will be all right. The tanuki pressed its small wet nose into Taro’s neck and purred, a deep rumble that stirred Taro’s lonely soul. He carried the creature’s limp body to the emperor, presenting it like a sacred offering. And in the way of a small boy who yearns for something with acute desperation, he said,“I want to keep it as a pet.”

The emperor’s smile was thin and cold. To this day, whenever Taro remembered it, a chill settled around his shoulders.“Men do not keep pets. Especially yōkai pets,” he said, his voice thick with scorn.

“Oh,” said young Taro. “What should I do with it, then?” He wheezed, for he was small and sickly then.

“Put it back where you found it.” Taro listened to his father and released the tanuki into the tea garden, but not before feeding it an apple and letting it lap at a bowl of rice wine. Tanuki were fond of alcohol. Perhaps the little fellow would find a home elsewhere.

But the next day, Taro found the tanuki in a cage in the garden. His father had had it imprisoned for the entertainment of the courtiers, who were mocking the creature mercilessly. A couple of days later, it died.

From then on, Taro found solace in his metal workroom. He did not need his father’s love. He would never again find room in his heart for a creature that could be taken from him. His metal creations kept him company. They did not talk back, they did not demand, and they could not die.

Lost in his memories, Taro failed to notice the hammer in his hand drift from the copper sheet. The hammer smashed his thumb, and Taro grunted in pain. Tossing the tool aside, he palmed his head. On his workbench, a wingless mechanical bird jumped on tin feet — Taro’s latest companion. Just last week he had placed a tiny heart made of gears in the bird’s chest. His miniature creation was nearly ready. All it needed was wings. He’d been working on making the copper malleable enough to carve metal feathers. A rare smile touched Taro’s lips. Perhaps the bird would soar high enough to over- take the palace walls. Wouldn’t that be something?

The hands of the clock ticked. Early morning had arrived. It was time. Taro’s smile dissolved. He unwound the bird, and it shuttered its steel eyelids. With a single breath, he extinguished the candle and slipped from the workroom.

Taro regarded the pelts lining the hallway: boar, lion, great bear, even a kirin, a rare chimerical yōkai beast that resembled a deer, only with dragon-like scales and a golden fiery mane. Torches blazed in metal sconces, the light reflecting the gilded walls and creating dancing shadows on the high ceilings.

At inception, the Palace of Illusions was built plainly and with- out nails, the interior nothing more than an open room. There had been no grand Main Hall or painted rice-paper panels. Since then, the dwelling had evolved, shedding its humble origins. To best his predecessors, each emperor had added new features: sprawling gar- dens with exotic plants, an imposing gate with snarling stone komainu, fierce lion dogs that acted as guardians and represented the beginning and the end of all things. The palace became a monument, a building of legends, where emperors would be immortalized.

Each emperor knew that all the gold and varnish couldn’t protect them. If given the chance, there were always those who would try to take it for themselves. Thus, the palace was safeguarded with priests’ curses. Illusions. A bottomless moat. Underground tunnels as intricate as lacework. Someday it would all be Taro’s: the riches, the command of the land, the power. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it. I especially do not wish to be a prize in some stupid competition.

His lip curled in disgust as he pushed aside a tiger pelt. The decorative furs concealed trapdoors. In this hallway alone, there were ten. And in the Main Hall, the entry point to the Seasonal Rooms, there were more than one hundred. Dozens of samurai patrolled the tunnels below, ready to spring from the floorboards, surprise- phantoms of death hungry to mow down marauders.

As a boy, Taro had been forced to memorize the lacework tunnels, an easy task, given his nimble mind. His brain stored millions of memories, each like a painting chronicling the seconds of his life.

The hidden door opened and closed with noiseless ease. The hinges were kept well-oiled. Taro descended the stone stairs. He didn’t need a light. Sixteen steps, and he’d reach the bottom. Even if Taro hadn’t had such a fine memory, the tunnels had a simple key. Steps were measured in multiples of eight. Always sixteen steps down. One hundred twenty-eight steps to the Main Hall, with eight lefts and eight rights and eight steps in between.

Taro inhaled. The air was cool and musty. His broad shoulders brushed the walls. The tunnels were narrow in this part of the palace, widening as they drew closer to the Main Hall. A rodent scampered across his path, followed by a cat chasing its prey.

A hazy light flickered. He’d come to the section of tunnel where samurai patrolled. He let his feet fall heavily, announcing his en- trance. Two spears crossed and blocked his path. Taro arched a brow. “Your Majesty.” They bowed, lowering the spears. It wasn’t unusual for Taro to walk through the tunnels. As a boy, it had been a game to him, playing to see if he could sneak up on the samurai. He passed the samurai without acknowledging them. Taro’s nightly walks served a purpose. The guards were used to his presence. Un- suspecting. Soon these lacework tunnels would be his way out. Every day Taro walked these tunnels and dreamed of all the directions he could go. He longed for only one: the one that led to freedom from the castle walls. He’d vowed to be liberated from this fancy prison before the start of the competition.

Eight steps and a left turn, and Taro came to another set of guards. These two slept at their posts. Taro flattened against a wall and waited for another two guards to vacate a section of the tunnel. Their patrols left certain parts unguarded, but only for a few seconds. He’d memorized every guard’s movements, the sound of their individual breathing, even what times they took breaks to relieve them- selves. He knew their habits, their distinct quirks. If he were planning to be Emperor, he’d warn them not to be so predictable. But their flaws were his gain.

Taro slipped from his hiding spot and up the stone stairs. Again, this trapdoor lifted and closed effortlessly. Taro was in the Main Hall. While pelts hid the trapdoors near Taro’s workroom, they were unnecessary here. The doors camouflaged seamlessly with the high- glossed zelkova floor.

Taro cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. He didn’t need to worry about guards here. The samurai in the tunnels were trained to keep their ears open for the slightest sound. Intruders would be detected before they made it to the Hall. Another chink in the palace armor.

The Winter Room doors rose above him as he faced them, dark and ominous. Moonlight danced through skylights. He pressed an ear to the door. No sound.

Placing a shoulder under the oak, he pushed up. Even with his newfound strength, the weight was nearly unbearable, and Taro swore foully as he removed it. The doors creaked open. Against a rush of cold air, Taro slipped inside. His feet immediately sank into inches of crusted-over snow, his toes curling at the freezing temperature. The night was clear in the vast Winter Room. The moon was thin, but the stars shone bright, making the snow appear like spun glass. Hundreds of thousands of meters of Ice Forest stretched before him. In the middle of all the trees was a river upon which he had skated as a child. In the distance, wolves bayed. Closer, a white owl screeched in the trees, and beneath the owl was the kappa.

As Taro had suspected, the kappa had frozen to death. Its mouth was open, strained in a perpetual scream. Little icicles hung from its orange beak. Something in Taro’s stone heart cracked. The yōkai had spent his last moment of life cold, afraid, alone. This is not how it should be.

Wind swirled, kicking up snow around Taro’s ankles, billowing his purple robe. He stared down at the kappa. Tucked into the belt of his hakama was his hammer. Usually, he used it to create. Today, he would destroy. He brought the hammer above his head and slammed it down upon the kappa. The resounding crack was inordinately loud in the silence. Startled owls and crows flew from their trees. Snow loosened from branches, falling in clumps to the ground.

The kappa shattered into icy crystals. One by one he gathered the kappa shards to his chest and strode through the forest until he came to the frozen river. He hammered a hole into the ice and cast the shards into the running water beneath. He had returned the creature to its rightful home.

There, he hoped, it would find peace.

***

 If you want to conquer the rest of the story, pre-order EMPRESS OF ALL SEASONS at any of the links below!

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[anisanews]

Site Of Rudolph Valentino’s Falcon Lair Sells For $15 Million

The roughly four-acre property in Beverly Hills was once part of Rudolph Valentino’s Falcon Lair … [+] estate.

Hilton & Hyland

In Beverly Hills, a development property that was once part of early Hollywood star Rudolph Valentino’s Falcon Lair estate has sold for $15 million.

The roughly four-acre site, which sold on Wednesday, was part of the larger estate owned by the actor in the late 1920s, according to Jeff Hyland of Hilton & Hyland, the listing agent for the property. Located in the heart of Benedict Canyon, the storied property was later home to tobacco heiress Doris Duke, who used the estate as a stop-over in between trips from the East Coast and Hawaii.

Rudolph Valentino in “The Sheik.”

Print Collector via Getty Images

According to Hyland’s book, The Legendary Estates of Beverly Hills, the allure of status and privacy is what drew Valentino to the Benedict Canyon address. Seeking refuge from his fans while also flaunting his Hollywood stardom, Valentino followed in the footsteps of Cowboy actor Fred Thomson and Oscar-winning screenwriter Frances Marion, who owned the Enchanted Hill estate next door. Film director Fred Niblo, who worked with Valentino on the 1922 silent film Blood and Sand, was another neighbor, having built his Misty Mountain estate between the two.

After purchasing the estate in 1925 for $175,000, Valentino christened the property “Falcon Lair” in a nod to his character from the 1924 film The Hooded Falcon. During his ownership, Valentino renovated and expanded the estate to his liking, furnishing the mansion with antiques from around the world. The grounds were invigorated with the planting of more than 50 Italian cypress trees and an elaborate Italian-inspired garden.

The roughly four-acre property on Bella Road in Beverly Hills sold for $15 million.

Hilton & Hyland

Also an accomplished horseman, Valentino had stables built on the site for his four Arabian horses. He was often seen in the mornings riding the horses around the property, which looked down onto Beverly Hills and the future shopping district of Rodeo Drive, and used the hillside to discreetly visit his famous neighbor.

A guesthouse, garage and gated entrance are all that remain on the site of the Falcon Lair estate.

Hilton & Hyland

Hyland said that a scarcity of home sites in Beverly Hills has resulted in an increased appetite for redevelopment opportunities such as the Falcon Lair estate.

Formal gardens and producing fruit trees punctuate the hillside, which could accommodate a producing … [+] vineyard.

Hilton & Hyland

“Beverly Hills is still a place where people want to have a presence,” said Hyland. “With no more home sites available, properties that can be repurposed have become highly sought after in today’s marketplace.”

The view from Rudolph Valention’s Falcon Lair estate in Beverly Hills.

Hilton & Hyland

Los Angeles home prices have continued to trend upward during the pandemic, with The MLS/CLAW reporting a 10.7% year-over-year increase in median price in the third quarter of 2020. Demand has also remained strong; sold listings increased 18.8% from the time period in 2019.

Hilton & Hyland is an exclusive member of Forbes Global Properties, a consumer marketplace and membership network of elite brokerages selling the world’s most luxurious homes.

from Anisa News https://ift.tt/3vefPqR

[hotsportsfemale]

Alex Morgan - US Soccer player.

Alex Morgan nicknamed “Baby horse” is a talented hot American soccer player who has achieved a lot in her career, most notably a Olympics Gold Medal in 2012, and the FIFA Women's World Cup with her group in 2015. She began her childhood soccer with 'Cypress Elite' and afterward played for 'California Golden Bears' during school graduation year. She was drafted numero uno by 'Western New York Flash' during 2011 WPS Draft and she proceeded to add to the group's association title win. Throughout the years, she has played for a few clubs including 'Portland Thorns FC' and 'West Coast FC'. During 2011 FIFA Women's World Cup, she became most youthful player of the US ladies' national soccer team, where she most often plays as a forward. Alex is a favourite of Hot sports female. She scored the match winning goal against Canada during semi-final of the 2012 London Olympics, at which she achieved the accomplishment of scoring 28 goals and 21 assists. That year she was named US Soccer Female Athlete of the Year. By and by, a forward for 'Orlando Pride' and 'Olympique Lyonnais', she has additionally accumulated acknowledgment for her off-the-field interests including composing a four-book arrangement and highlighting in TV, magazines, and supports. In the wake of completing basic and secondary school, in 2007 she entered the University of California to examine Political Economy, through a games grant that was allowed. Read the full article

[bigyack-com]

The Chinese Roots of Italy’s Far-Right Rage

PRATO, Italy — Like everyone in her family and most of the people in the factories where she labored in this town nurtured by the textile trade, Roberta Travaglini counted herself an unwavering supporter of the political left.During her childhood, her father brought her to boisterous Communist Party rallies full of music, dancing and fiery speeches championing workers. When she turned 18, she took a job at a textile mill and voted for the party herself.But that was before everything changed — before China emerged as a textile powerhouse, undercutting local businesses; before she and her co-workers lost their jobs; before she found herself, a mother of two grown boys, living off her retired parents; before Chinese immigrants arrived in Prato, leasing shuttered textile mills and stitching up clothing during all hours of the night.In last year’s national elections, Ms. Travaglini, 61, cast her vote for the League, an extreme right-wing party whose bombastic leader, Matteo Salvini, offered a rudimentary solution to Italy’s travails: Close the gates.Denigrating Islam, and warning of an “invasion” that threatened Italians with “ethnic cleansing,” he vowed to bar boats bringing migrants from North Africa. He presented himself as an unapologetic nationalist who would rescue the dispossessed from what had become of the Italian left, long since metamorphosed into a distant elite.To Ms. Travaglini’s ear, Mr. Salvini was speaking to people like her, and offering a coherent explanation for what had happened to their lives: Shadowy global forces and morally reprobate immigrants had stolen their Italian birthright — the promise of a comfortable life. Artisans and hardworking laborers had rescued Italy from the wreckage of World War II, constructing a prosperous nation, before wicked elements plundered the bounty.“We are in the hands of the world elites that want to keep us poorer and poorer,” Ms. Travaglini says. “When I was young, it was the Communist Party that was protecting the workers, that was protecting our social class. Now, it’s the League that is protecting the people.”The rise of the League — now exiled from the government, yet poised to lead whenever national elections are next held — is typically explained by public rage over immigration. This is clearly a major factor. But the foundations of the shift were laid decades ago, as textile towns like Prato found themselves upended by global economic forces, and especially by competition from a rapidly evolving China.It is a story with parallels to the American industrial Midwest. As China rapidly ascended as an export power, joblessness and despair grew in the manufacturing heartland of the United States. Anger over decades of trade liberalization played a key role in putting Donald J. Trump in the White House.Italy has proved especially vulnerable to competition from China, given that many of its artisanal trades — textiles, leather, shoemaking — have long been dominated by small, family-run operations lacking the scale to compete with factories in a nation of 1.4 billion people. Four Italian regions — Tuscany, Umbria, Marche and Emilia-Romagna — that were as late as the 1980s electing Communists, and then reliably supporting center-left candidates, have in recent years swung sharply toward the extreme right.Many working-class people say that delineation is backward: The left had already abandoned them.“So many Italian families are struggling,” says Federica Castricini, a 40-year-old mother of two who works at a shoemaker in Marche, and who has dumped the left for the League. “The left doesn’t even see the problems of Italian families right now.”Despite its Marxist trappings and solidarity with the Soviet Union, the Italian Communist Party was never devoted to the revolutionary overthrow of capitalism. It was left wing in the same way as Nordic countries like Sweden, its leaders intent on equitably distributing the gains of economic growth.“The left has always been able to govern during expansionary moments, during the construction of the economy after World War II,” says Nadia Urbinati, an Italian political theorist at Columbia University in New York. “They could govern by promising good salaries, a pension system and health care. When there was an expansive economy, the left was strong, because the left offers you jobs.“But when there are no jobs,” Ms. Urbinati continues, “the left doesn’t have an alternative to the capitalist system. The right has an effective emotional short-term response, showing that it has the ability to use the state apparatus to impose law and order.”Italy’s official unemployment rate has exceeded 10 percent for most of the last decade. High public debt combined with European rules limiting deficits have prevented the government from spending to promote growth. Banks choked with bad loans have held back lending. The population is aging, tax evasion is rampant, the economy is stagnant, and talented young people are leaving.People in cities like Prato, next to Florence in the heart of Tuscany, have come to see the left as a tribe of effete technocrats, prescribing globalization as the solution to every problem.“In the past, all the left-wing governments were saying there are no simple answers to complex problems,” says Riccardo Cammelli, an author of books about history and politics in Prato. “What Salvini is saying now is that there are simple answers to complex problems.”

The China shock

By the time World War II ended, Civitanova Marche was shattered. The town alongside the Adriatic Sea had attracted relentless allied bombing aimed at taking out bridges. “The city was on its knees,” recalls Cesare Catini, 81. The oldest of three boys, Mr. Catini had to work to help support his family. At 12, he left school and started making shoes with his uncle, beginning a career that would trace the arc of Italy’s national progression.In 1961, when Mr. Catini was only 22, he started his own business, making women’s shoes in his garage. His two younger brothers joined him. They bought leather from tanneries in Naples and Milan and made 50 pairs of shoes a day, selling their stock at street markets.They invested their profits into adding machinery and workers. By the 1980s, they had hired a designer from Milan, and their factory employed 70 people, selling its shoes in the United States and West Germany. His two children completed high school. He and his wife, who handled the factory’s books, bought a brick house on a hilltop looking out on the glittering sea.But by the 1990s, danger was brewing. At trade fairs in Milan and Bologna, where he displayed his wares to foreign buyers, Mr. Catini noticed visitors from China taking photos of his designs. “Why are they coming to fairs and not buying anything?” he wondered.The following decade revealed the answer. German customers were canceling orders, suddenly able to buy increasingly high-quality shoes at cut-rate prices from Chinese suppliers.In 2001, China secured entry to the World Trade Organization, gaining easy access to markets around the globe. In subsequent years, exports by Italian footwear manufacturers plummeted by more than 40 percent. In a desperate bid to survive, Mr. Catini reluctantly struck a deal to make shoes for a trendy Italian fashion brand. He borrowed about 300,000 euros ($331,000) and used the money to establish a factory in Romania to make the uppers for the new shoes at a fraction of his costs in Italy.Soon, the Italian brand pressed him to lower his prices, asserting that it could buy the same shoes for half the cost in China. But the reduced price would not have covered his expenses.One morning in early 2008, Mr. Catini gathered his employees on the factory floor. He had known many of them for decades. He had attended their weddings, their children’s christenings, funerals for their relatives. He had advanced them pay to allow them to buy homes. Now, he told them that they were all losing their jobs. “I dream of this every night,” he says, his ruddy cheeks contorting in pain. “The workers were part of the family, from the first to the last.” He crushes his brown twill cap in his hands, prompting his wife to reach over and gently take it away.In the nearby hilltop town of Montegranaro, some 600 footwear companies have dwindled to about 150, prompting locals to embrace the League and its harsh words about immigrants.“When people do not feel secure economically, they cannot stand the fact that guarantees are given to people who come from abroad,” says Mauro Lucentini, a League member who holds a seat on Montegranaro’s council. His burly frame is clad in a blue sweater embroidered with an American flag. “Because I love America!” he says. “I love Trump!” He waves a blue and white scarf with the letters “Italians First,” along with the logo for the League — a warrior wielding a sword and shield. Mr. Lucentini makes his living as a real estate agent. Over the past decade, housing prices have dropped by half, he says. Between 1996 and 2008, he sold about 100 apartments a year, he says. This year, he has sold 10.As he wanders the village on a recent morning, navigating streets looking out on autumn-tinged pastures dotted with cypress trees, Mr. Lucentini indicates the landmarks of decline. His mother’s furniture store has been devastated by Ikea, which draws heavily on low-cost suppliers in Asia. Sheets of cardboard cover the glass doors of a failed retailer that sold shoelaces and other footwear accessories. A shop that sold tools and machinery is empty. A three-story factory that once employed 120 people sits abandoned, its paint peeling. Mr. Lucentini greets an elderly woman, kissing her on both cheeks. The perfume shop she has operated for more than half a century is barely hanging on. He tickles the face of a newborn baby in a stroller. “That’s very unusual,” he says later. “This is not a place where people are inclined to have children.”The town’s population has dropped from about 14,000 two decades ago to 13,000, with about 1,000 new immigrants — Albanians, Africans and Chinese. He uses racist language to describe the recent arrivals, claiming that dark-skinned foreigners have degraded his community. “When immigration was at its peak, there were many cases of violence,” he says. “Especially the Nigerians, who are very wild, very savage.”This sort of talk has become increasingly common. Five years ago, in elections for the European Parliament, the League captured only 3 percent of the vote in Marche. This year, it garnered 38 percent. The center-left Democratic Party saw its support plunge from 45 percent to 22 percent.The reasons for his community’s troubles are many, Mr. Lucentini concedes. The global financial crisis of 2008 was especially brutal in Italy. Existential worries about the euro currency lifted borrowing rates, tightening credit. Russians used to arrive in town with wads of cash to buy shoes, but American and European sanctions have stopped that.Still, he maintains, the League is correct to focus on halting immigration as a solution to economic troubles, along with lowering taxes. Many migrants are not really fleeing war and poverty, he contends, contradicting reality, yet in a way widely shared by League supporters. “We can’t help the last person in Africa and not help our neighbor,” he says.

‘Nobody was afraid of the future’

As long ago as the 12th century, people were making fabric in Prato, exploiting the availability of water via canals erected by the Romans. The modern boom came after World War II, as people poured into the city to work in the mills. By the 1980s, Italy’s premier fashion houses were sending designers to Prato, as local producers yielded material for Armani, Versace, and Dolce & Gabbana. Textile operations stayed small and specialized, using workshops tucked into homes, enabling them to pivot quickly to satisfy changing fashion tastes. Local entrepreneurs watched runway models wearing their creations on catwalks in Paris and Milan and felt indomitable.“We thought we were the best in the world,” says Edoardo Nesi, who spent his days running the textile factory started by his grandfather, and his nights penning novels. “Everybody was making money.”The Communist Party controlled the town, using their power to deliver public works — a contemporary art museum, a library inside an abandoned mill, a textile museum.Mr. Nesi’s father was a lover of Beethoven, literature and timely payment. He bestowed to his son a lucrative arrangement: He sent wool to overcoat manufacturers in West Germany, and they unfailingly sent back money 10 days later. His father assured him that this was a formula for enduring success. Be honest, produce quality fabric, “and you will be as happy as I am.”“We lived in a place where everything had been good for 40 years,” Mr. Nesi says. “Nobody was afraid of the future.”In retrospect, they should have been. By the 1990s, the Germans were purchasing cheaper fabrics woven in Bulgaria and Romania. Then, they shifted their sights to China. The German customers felt pressure to find savings because enormous new retailers were carving into their businesses — brands like Zara and H&M, tapping low-wage factories in Asia.Chinese factories were buying the same German-made machinery used by the mills in Prato. They were hiring Italian consultants who were instructing them on the modern arts of the trade.Some companies adapted by elevating their quality. One local mill, Marini, followed the American clothing brands that were its customers as they gravitated to China, shipping its fabric there. But this was clearly the exception. From 2001 to 2011, Prato’s 6,000 textile companies became 3,000, as those employed in the industry dropped to 19,000 from 40,000, according to Confindustria, an Italian trade association.Mr. Nesi tried making clothes for Zara, which constantly demanded lower prices. “You started to work on how to pervert your own quality in order to sell it to Zara,” he says. “They wanted the best look. It had to be something that looks like your quality without actually being it. That’s more or less a description of what they wanted our life to become. Something that looks like your life but is of lesser quality.”Eventually, he sold the business to spare his father from “an old age full of shame.”

‘Made in Italy’ (by Chinese immigrants)

As Prato’s factories went dark, people began arriving from China to exploit an opportunity. Most were from Wenzhou, a coastal city famed for its entrepreneurial spirit. They took over failed workshops and built new factories. They imported fabric from China, sewing it into clothing. They cannily imitated the styles of Italian fashion brands, while affixing a valuable label to their creations — “Made in Italy.” Today, more than a tenth of the city’s 200,000 inhabitants are Chinese immigrants here legally, plus, by varying estimates, perhaps 15,000 who lack proper documents. Chinese groceries and restaurants have emerged to serve the local population. On the outskirts of the city, Chinese-owned warehouses overflow with racks of clothing destined for street markets in Florence and Paris. Among Italian textile workers who have veered to the right, the arrival of the Chinese tends to get lumped together with African migration as an indignity that has turned Prato into a city they no longer recognize. “I don’t think it’s fair that they come to take jobs away from Italians,” says Ms. Travaglini, the laid-off textile worker. She claims that Chinese companies don’t pay taxes and violate wage laws, reducing pay for everyone.Since losing her job at a textile factory nearly three years ago, Ms. Travaglini has survived by fixing clothes for people in her neighborhood. “There are no jobs, not even for young people,” she says.Chinese-owned factories have jobs, she acknowledges, but she will not apply. “That’s all Chinese people,” she says, with evident distaste. “I don’t feel at ease.” The concept of multiculturalism is anathema to her. She insists that Italy is for Italians — a term that can never be extended to Chinese people, not even to Italian-born, Italian-educated, Italian-speaking Chinese people.“They are Italianized,” she says, “but they are still not Italian.”Within the Chinese community, people protest that their contributions to the local economy are typically dismissed in a haze of racist accusations. “These warehouses were empty before Chinese people came,” says Marco Weng, 20, whose parents arrived from China three decades ago. “Chinese people didn’t take jobs. We have created jobs.” He is about to open a chain of Korean fried chicken restaurants with a partner.Marco Hong, 23, a second-generation Chinese Italian, oversees production at the clothing company started by his parents. Operating under the Distretto 12 brand, the company buys fabric from Prato mills, sewing sleek, modern clothes that land on shelves in Spain and Germany. Some 35 people work at the factory, roughly half of them Italians.“People who know the sector know that work has increased since the Chinese arrived,” he says.What Ms. Travaglini knows is downward mobility. She buys groceries with cash from her parents. Her younger son is about to move to Dubai to look for work, seeing no future in Prato.Her older son used to consider himself a Communist, worshiping Che Guevara and Fidel Castro. Now, he is active with the League.She can no longer afford to shop at the clothing boutiques in the medieval city center. On a recent afternoon, she goes to a Chinese-run outlet and surveys the inventory, much of it made in Prato by Chinese companies — fake fur winter coats, leather jackets, lacy bras.“They are pretty things,” she says, “and they are not too expensive.” Source link Read the full article

[junker-town]

4-star safety recruit Leon O’Neal commits to Texas A&M just before National Signing Day

The Aggies are getting an elite player in O’Neal.

Four-star safety Leon O’Neal committed to Texas A&M on Monday.

Leon O'Neal Jr Is Committed Too.......#WakeEmUp ✍ ⌛️@RoSimonJr @TrillArt pic.twitter.com/Rd3Zt9yvPI

— Leon O’Neal Jr 9️⃣ (@WakeEmUp9) February 5, 2018

Out of Cypress (Texas) Springs High School, O’Neal is one of the top safety recruits in the nation. He chose the Aggies over at least 32 other offers, including Clemson, Oklahoma, Georgia, Alabama, Oregon, and more. He had previously committed to Texas A&M in June, but decommitted in early December, after the firing of coach Kevin Sumlin.

O’Neal was so coveted because of his combination of skills. At 6’1 and 195 pounds, O’Neal has excellent size for a safety prospect coming out of high school. It makes him a quality defender in the box against the run. Yet he has the coverage ability that should allow him to remain at the safety position instead of moving to linebacker, like some with his frame might have to do.

Despite physicality being a significant part of his game, O’Neal shows well in the non-contact setting of 7v7 football, covering smaller receivers in open space.

On a cold day in February 2017, O’Neal posted a SPARQ score of 99 at the Houston Nike Opening regional camp.

[themeltinglibrary]

Here they are! Red London and Nicholas Carter just got face lifts, but here are the four new scents I've been working on! They'll be available within a week or so. ❤️ The Dawn Court, inspired by ACOTAR/ACOMAF, smells like bright, citrusy grapefruit, amber woods and morning dew. It's a refreshing, fruity scent, perfect to wake up to. 😉 ❤️ Hyrule Field, inspired by the world of Zelda, smells like fresh air, dandelions and deku leaves. I just preordered the Nintendo Switch and immediately set out to make a Zelda inspired candle, because it's my favorite game of all time! ❤️ The Eolian, as requested by @superspacechick and inspired by the Name of the Wind, is my new favorite and smells like sweet and spicy pears, honey, cider and smoke. ❤️ Magiano's Tricks, inspired by the fascinating Magiano of The Young Elites Trilogy by @marieluthewriter, a sexy blend of cypress wood, Sicilian bergamot and amber. ❤️ Also, a couple of people have asked if we'll be doing another rep search anytime soon. I've decided not to at this time, BUT I will be picking a new bookstagrammer every month to send a rep box to. I've got my eye on a couple of feeds, but if you'd like to be considered, feel free to tag any of your photos with #TMLMonthlyRep. I love finding new unique feeds! ❤️ Lastly, I've got a giveaway with @pagetravels coming up, so if you don't follow her, you should! ❤️ Which candle are you the most excited for? 😁 #themeltinglibrary

[alolarp-blog1]

Meet Pokemon Trainer ISABELLA ‘ BELLA ‘ ZHOU. Born APRIL 4, currently 18. She’s CASTELIA CITY born and has recently been given a TSAREENA(F) and x2 LUXURY BALLS and x2 MAX REVIVES. 

a son for their first born and there was bella, being the only daughter in the family has its own list of perks. though, all in all, the exact same fashion they had carved for both of their children. she was accustomed to being surrounded by different types of pokemons around her and there was the media, a fixture for her life as flashes flickered whenever they stepped out of their family home. asking:

1) “are there any new discoveries, professor avery?” 2) “sophia! when is your next project coming out?” 3) “who’ll live on the legacy?”

and so far, it left the public to wonder and speculate which left her feeling rather uncomfortable despite her father’s attempts to maintain the aspect of privacy. she recalled him saying that she could not be tainted by the news and gossip that splattered around the newspaper and magazines. every now and then, they kept following as she tried to maneuver around regardless of the occasion. she hated it, and had only kept her head down whilst avoiding answering all questions at all costs, as her father often reminded her that it was the best way handling the situation.

after all, isabella zhou was the epitome of perfection, they could not afford room for any form of error. nor failure in that matter.

PART TWO meet the resident sweetheart of alola, isabella. she is just your typical next door girl that people had adorned, all bubbly and lively. she would often wear that smile on her face as she greets you, regardless of the time may be; an absolute charmer people would address her since that bubbly air of hers could brighten up someone’s bad day—in addition to that, bella is all sugar and giggles. if you happen to come across hearing constant giggling around town, that would most likely to be her as she is never to shy away to let it out.

withal being all smiles, she’s actually outgoing and courageous—a complete daredevil ( to an extent ), as long as it doesn’t contrast to her belief that is and call her up when there’s an adventure. be it exploring new places, or just anything challenging in general. it was probably one of the sole reason why her folks let her venture into the open despite being young at age. the eighteen year old had been able to adapt to contrasting climates and venues rather quickly even afore reaching adulthood, and in came in handy when bella learned to be independent.

a goody-two-shoes, some might say. nonetheless, the girl possesses a heart of gold. often being seen being helpful to others in need, or just whenever she felt like it. in addition to that, her selfless trait shines through the most out of all, which compliment well with her very affectionate nature.

but be careful though, even when she is all nice, she is one walking storm. it’d be the complete opposite if her mood’s down and it is best advisable to stay away from her until she cools off, it’s never a good idea to face her when she’s experiencing a series of downfalls, unless, if you know how to handle it anyways without getting hurt in the process.

her only downfall is just being rather stubborn, insecure, and secretive. a result caused with her being the youngest in the family and being adjusted to the current happenings that had been exposed out, but she is never a spoiled brat despite growing up in a opulent household. the girl is down to earth in regards to that though she is albeit crafty if someone manages to tick her off. nevertheless, isabella is all you need if you need some cheering up.

PART THREE ever since she was given her very first pokemon, which surprisingly had been a misdreavus—at the mere age of seven, it never came to frighten her. in fact, the amount of love she had for lilac ( the name given to it ) had oust the expected reaction, ( read: horrified ). the members of the family seemed to be alarmed at first, seemingly because the screeching creature was prone to having such a reputation for scaring people. yet, the case was unlikely when she first met the pokemon. with her growing hands reaching out to pet it, leaving it to be rather halting when the child’s response was beyond any assumptions. the pair had developed a special bond throughout the years, sans the fact that her beloved companion had a tendency for giving out a good spook and feeding off other people’s fears altogether.

time passed, and little bella had grown into a young lady. there had been additions to her team, which none of them shared nothing in common when bella was interested in developing a well diverse one. and as the moment came, her father decided that it was best for that daughter of his to be let go. as he had been developing the pokedex with his colleagues, and suggested she should pursue out into the open. to explore different kinds of regions, and help him out to fill up the device with different types of pokemons. so that had been one of her targets in life.

as it resulted for her to be one of the interns for professor cypress, the deal was beneficial in both ways. the uncertainty had never failed to seize her. withal her endearing nature, a passion for life, added with a dash of vast curiosity and pure intentions of bonding with the unknown. she befitted well for the criteria(s) they were looking for, it had been her heart that sparked, and enticed them to let her undertake the project they were actively immersed in.

still, the trainer side in her had a knack for adventure altogether—that made her accept the offer, to meet various of trainers and if possible, challenge the elite four in the pokemon league. the odds are uncanny, who knows what the future holds for the young trainer.