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#day 2 of loser bear autumn
jellyaibo · 1 year
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its so funny im . p sure loser is one of the smallest contestants in bfb and yet when i was making a gijinka of her i was like yeah make her 6'7" shes like a big cuddly bear to everybody yeah exactly like this
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this is how she looks normally to me wdym
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chaneajoyyy · 4 years
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Do you know any images that has plus size characters and Erik in them that I can read? I’m kind of new to the whole fan fics!
I sure do! 
PLUS SIZE CHARACTERS WITH ERIK FICS (UPDATED)
- how i feel, right now, animal, chains series, purple herbs & gardens, risks & new beginnings series, better with time, let’s play, without a doubt, sizzling pans & slow jams, misinterpretations, visions of gold, out business, come through and chill series, nights, slow burn, a siren’s allure, venom, the one, maybe they’re right, sore loser series, i’ll be alright, spooky cookies & vampire fangs, screams in the night series; knock, knock series; imagination, the cure series, poptart man series, this must be our song, conversation starter, heaven is a place on earth, twins?, say it, i’m there, his princess, his for the night, sugar baby series, authority series, baby shark, lemme try, take our time, say the word, sudden reunions series, memories of you, more ways than one, lemme try it again (that’s my face), not in budget, i would like to see it, pease mama bear, she likes me, guess what, times like these, tell me your secret series, he gets it from me, baby see baby do, see what had happened was, who me?, so relax, three kings of dreams, deck the b-…halls?, do it again, be quiet, you so crazy, how that sound?, you’re so handsome, sit still, leave me aloneee, don’t hide, or maybe, send it to mommy, but i’m sick.., you thought i wouldn’t find out, he’d make you his, ballet baba, ain’t that right?, he wasn’t having that, being honest, that’s all it took?, then stop ignoring me, since you can, but i thougth…, jealous, i won’t tell you again series, hit me, no reply, i’ve alway been, you sure?, no more tummy time, toss ‘em, you done now?, sing it baby, doped up, battle it out, for however long, bath time, bedtime stories, i’m sorry, was that so hard?, i owe you that, whatchu say?, hard headed, it should’ve been you, take our time series, baba’s day, whatever she wants, nope, can’t even look at you, not again, nose wide oen, just a bit longer, come on over to my place, fences & bullriders, right now, designated command strips,mr. telephone man series, autumn leaves & cookie thieves, one way or another, you ain’t hear that?, open up, better?, huh? nuh uh, cute enough to eat, she likes me- @supersizemeplz
- all erik fics and headcanons- @nahimjustfeelingit-writes
- all erik fics and headcanons- @eye-raq
- teach me series, when you’re mad series, waffles series, slow ride series, movie night series, let’s talk about sex series, mines, thunderstorm, girl fuck you, eat your breakfast seres (with eat your dinner), secret admirer, amusement park fun, displays of affection, night at the movie theaters, silent hearbeats series, kissing strangers series, worship, loving the way you love it, day drunk, smile for me daddy series, just like you, we goin to hell, breeding time- @thehomierobbstark
- late again, halloween party, imprint, a man in love, v.i.p (includes m/baku), daddy’s home, y’all again?, okay? okay, prisoner of love, family cookout, kiss, what’s cooking good looking, expecting headcanons, food headcanons, crying headcanons, nsfw headcanons, foot fetish series, halloween headcanons, lingerie headcanons, jealous headcanons, kevin’s  heart series, untitled series- @madamslayyy
-carnal stimulation series, next lifetime series, hoe ass erik series, dirty little secrets series, hennything is possible, sunday dinner series (with payback), a.d.i.d.a.s., green goddess, suddenly stevens, beauty is her name, it’s complicated. i’m sorry, the great reveal, neighbors know my name series (part 2 to @hearteyes-for-killmonger‘s story of the same name), the devil speaks xosha, mile high, trap card, act up, let me smell it, up late, i’ll take your man, carry on, dreams & nightmares- @goddessofthundathighs
- headass youtube couple series, fix my crown series (with ‘the puppy’), all skate, cutting ties series, #tsrbaewatch- @apantherinmypastlife
- all erik fics-  @wawakanda-btch
- all fics- @hearteyes-for-killmonger
- say my name series, beg for it, the coat room, charley horse, full court press, house party, boyfriend makeup challenge, gumby, the let out series, disorderly, token, all i wanted for christmas is you, hit the showers, neo, erica; veni, vidi, vici, i will be here, trick or treat, the wakandan boys when they’re sick (includes t’challa and m’baku- @sonofnjobu
- mine, unravel me series (includes belong to you), i missed you series (inlcudes you a’ight and if they ain’t looking), rated e, on braodway, no average bitch,  @brownsugarcocoabutterwildflowers (scroll for erik killmonger x reader and erik killmonger imagine)
- all tasting mellow fics- @tastingmellow
- laid up series- @pastelastronomy24
- come lay with me, house hunting series, stretch marks, the footbal jerseyy, you sure?- @marvelmaree
- the deal series, nuggest of truth, girlfriend, all i want is you, care for you- @wakandamama
- rated e for extra petty, elbow deep series- @puffmamaa
- she got game, where’s the smoke, s.d.m., from paris with love, where the hoes at? (with t’challa and m’baku), written all over your face, baby bump series (wit cuddle buddy,, and hc: chubby!erik trying old clothes), not in that way, here kitty kitty, computer blue series, chunk series- @ghostfacekill-monger
- all erik fics- @stripper-patrick
- he spills series (with t’chala and m’baku)- @captainsaveasmut
- i’m cleva series, do me baby (part 2 of @killmongersgurl‘s serieserik’s created a monste)-, @killmongerdispussy
- sorry he’s gone, mad issues series, curiosity happy weight- @curls-and-crosses
- nah baby i got you- @inxan-ity (scroll for erik killmonger)
- all fics- @writerbee-ffs
- paragone series- @dynastynoire
- all fics- @eriksjournal
- the sweetest taste series, late night drive- two of a kind series (includes ‘03 bonnie and clyde prequel), beyond the lights series, mad love series- @wakandaforeverwrites
- all erik fics and headcanons- @plussizeappreciationfics
-thanksgiving w/ mr. stevens and the udakus series (with valentine’s gumbo),  @mermaidchansons
- all erik fics- @muse-of-mbaku
- all fics- @eerythingisshaka
- all fics- @artisticestheticreads
- return the favor series,”you wake up to find your bed void of your sick boyfriend erik killmonger and you’re not very pleased- @taint3dvirgin
- a day at the beach with erik, prompt 19 “what’s cooking, good looking”, stay here tonight, greater purpose of chaos, sharing disney movies with erik, 90s disney movies with erik-  @hidden-treasures21
- new year’s surprise series- @thefantasyride
- for the love of money?, my first & his only, the big chop, braid my hair, short staffed, visiting hours- @bakarilennox
- insecure series, “erik x wakandan!reader where he says ‘you are your own perso. you are not mine. but i hope you will let me love you.”, sabotage, sweet like honey series- @erikslulbaby
- kissing strangers series- @halcyonscry
- baby bump series (with cuddle buddy, hc:chubby!erik trying on old clothes) (chubby!erik), chunk series, special delivery, here kitty kitty,  s.d.m., she got game, computer blue series, where’s the smoke, from paris with love, where the hoes at?, written all over your face, not in that way series- @ghostfacekill-monger
- not enough, a little insecure - @maybecoolwords
- french inhale series- @jewelofwakanda
***PLEASE HIT ME UP TO ADD STORIES***
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theninjasanctuary · 2 years
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I'm somehow procrastinating so hard I can't even find time to look at Tumblr these days. Well, ok, I have tried to stay on top of chores, the urn burial went okay, I have been on a day trip to boyf's country estate that resulted in making currant juice 2 nights in a row, and have also visited friends for the first time since who even knows, and that was good. And since there have been flash sales and weekend discounts, I've bought more second-hand, 2 pairs of shoes (Adidas Originals in red suede + black suede heels) and a pair of Akris jeans from momox and carou (yes, after running out of things to crave on momox, I had to see whether carou and maedchenflohmarkt had anything; the latter not so much, but the former has several covetable items that are too pricy to buy right away). Considering how low my funds are, this was obviously unwise, but as always, they'll go back if they don't fit. I know I should cut the f back there, but nice clothes are a source of profound joy to me, and I'm mainly hurting my own wallet, not anybody else with this. Even so, there are very few remaining gaps in my wardrobe, literally and figuratively speaking, but I could use a dressy-but-unfussy jacket that's not a blazer nor a cardigan nor a bomber, and light-coloured dressy flats or low heels (can wait till next summer).
Also managed to be an adult about the washing machine suddenly becoming much more noisy than it was, had it hauled off to a certified repair shop, as the ball bearing might have failed (hopefully hasn't damaged anything else because I stopped using it). Am assuming the bill will be covered by warranty, I bought it less than 5 months ago, but am really hoping it is just the ball bearing, so it'll be fixed by Tuesday, as the laundry is piling the f up. Otherwise, it might take another week.
Not in the mood to work. But might have identified a driving school to consider (haven't signed up since I don't know my autumn schedule yet). I think I need to go just to feel like a bit less of a loser, and while I can afford it (ofc the shit review made me think I'm gonna be unemployed with no prospects again in a little over 2 years from now).
At least I'll be spectacularly dressed.
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dearhopeworld · 7 years
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30 questions tag 👀
Tagged by the one AND ONLY @hobislobster ♥♥
1. Favourite smell? Coffee being made 2. Last time you cried? sometime last week at work 3. Favourite pizza? .....build your own at Blaze Pizza 4. Favourite flower? Roses cuz I’m basic AF 5. Favourite animal? BEARS♥ and piggies.....  6. Did you go to university? ...dropped the fuck out and went back to community college 7. Untie shoes when taking off? Nahhh 8. Rollercoaster? FUCK THE HELL YES. THE STEEPER THE DROP THE BETTER.  9. Favourite ice cream? Green Tea/ Red Bean 10. Shorts or Jeans? ..... Neither?  11. What music do you listen to? Pop Punk, Kpop, Alternative Rock, EDM 12. Favourite TV programme? MMMMM, I don’t watch TV.... 13. Tattoos? One Fall Out Boy dedicated tattoo♥ (I want so many more though) 14. Hair colour? Red 15. Eye Colour? Brown 16. Favourite food to eat? tbh whatever I’m craving at the moment 17. Favourite holiday? None?  18. Beer or wine? Ew neither, give me a glass of sex on the beach please. 19. Night owl or early morning? NIGHT OWL.  20. Favourite day of the week? Tuesdays, it’s my only day off from work and school 21. Do you have a nickname? Jen LOL. and .... Papa Bear but the only for one person to call me.  22. Favourite season? Autumn  23. Favourite place to get away? Las Vegas. 24. Missing someone? My two best friends who moved up to Northern Cali  25. Dream holiday? Japan, Korea, England  26. Any regrets?  saying sorry to my ex even though it wasn’t my fucking fault on how things ended.   27. Middle name? None.  28. Go back to secondary school? How about going back to no school at all?  29. Ocean or lake? Ocean 30. Who do you think will do this? The following losers @hoeseok @xnamjoon @blondejinismyreligion @religion-agustd @uknowbts @cyphersjay @lovesmilk @sugaforyou @sugamonsta @jhopesdaydreamer
JK, I love you guys♥ You don’t have to do this. 
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aion-rsa · 4 years
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HBO Max New Releases: November 2020
https://ift.tt/eA8V8J
There are only two months left to go in this truly hellish year and relatively new streaming service HBO Max is trying to make the best of them. While most other streamers recover from Halloween and get prepared for Christmas, HBO Max is using November 2020 to fill out its servers.
Things are pretty light not the new original series front this month with only Industry (Nov. 9) and His Dark Materials season 2 (Nov. 16) making a splash. But the streamer has a couple of notable original films to complement them. Between the World and Me, based on the book by Ta-Nehisi Coates, arrives on Nov. 21 and Melissa McCarthy comedy Superintelligence arrives on Nov. 26. That’s not even to mention two intriguing projects that don’t have dates yet: The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air Reunion Special and The Mystery of DB Cooper.
Thankfully, the real appeal in November 2020 is all the fresh library content making its way to HBO Max. Nov. 1 sees the arrival of The Dark Knight, The Hobbit Trilogy, all the Lego Movies, and even the first episode of Rick and Morty season 4 (with more presumably to follow). Those offerings will be augmented later on by the always-entertaining Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony on Nov. 7.
Here is everything else coming to HBO Max in November 2020.
HBO Max New Releases – November 2020
TBA
12 Dates Of Christmas, HBO Max Original Series Premiere
Colin Quinn & Friends: A Parking Lot Comedy Show, HBO Max Original Special Premiere
Crazy, Not Insane, Documentary Premiere (HBO)
The Fresh Prince Of Bel Air Reunion Special, HBO Max Original Special Premiere
Full Bloom, HBO Max Original Series Premiere
I Hate Suzie, HBO Max Original Series Premiere
The Mystery Of DB Cooper, Documentary Premiere (HBO)
Sesame Street, Season 51 2020
Valley Of Tears, HBO Max Original Series Premiere
Veneno, HBO Max Original Series Premiere
November 1
10,000 BC, 2008
13 Going On 30, 2004
2 Fast 2 Furious, 2003 (HBO)
Above The Rim, 1994
All Is Bright, 2013
America, America, 1964
Anchors Aweigh, 1945
Another Cinderella Story, 2008
The Arrangement, 1969
Austin Powers In Goldmember, 2002
Autumn In New York, 2000 (HBO)
Baby Doll, 1956
Battleship, 2012 (HBO)
Beasts Of The Southern Wild, 2012 (HBO)
Billy Madison, 1995 (HBO)
Blast From The Past, 1999
Blood Work, 2002
The Bridge Of San Luis Rey, 2005 (HBO)
Broadway Danny Rose, 1984 (HBO)
The Bucket List, 2007
The Children, 2009
A Christmas Carol, 1938
Chronicle, 2012 (Director’s Cut) (HBO)
City Island, 2010 (HBO)
City Slickers, 1991 (HBO)
Clash Of The Titans, 2010
Critical Care, 1997
Cruel Intentions, 1999 (HBO)
The Dancer Upstairs, 2003 (HBO)
The Dark Knight, 2008
David Copperfield, 1935
Dead Man Walking, 1995 (HBO)
Desperately Seeking Susan, 1985 (HBO)
The Devil’s Advocate, 1997
Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star, 2003 (HBO)
Dolphin Tale, 2011
Dumb And Dumberer: When Harry Met Lloyd, 2003
The Eagle, 2011 (HBO)
East Of Eden, 1955
Eight Legged Freaks, 2002
Elf Pets: Santa’s Saint Bernard’s Save Christmas, 2018
The Enforcer, 1976
A Face In The Crowd, 1957
The Fast And The Furious, 2001 (HBO)
Femme Fatale, 2002
The Five-Year Engagement, 2012 (Extended Version) (HBO)
A Flintstone Christmas, 1977
A Flintstone Family Christmas, 1993
Free Willy, 1993
Friday The 13th, 2009
G.I. Joe: The Rise Of Cobra, 2009
The Gauntlet, 1977
Genius, 2016 (HBO)
Get Santa, 2014
Girl In Progress, 2012
Grumpier Old Men, 1995
Grumpy Old Men, 1993
Guys And Dolls, 1955
Hacksaw Ridge, 2016 (HBO)
Happy Gilmore, 1996 (HBO)
Heidi, 2006
High Fidelity, 2000 (HBO)
High Society, 1956
The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, 2012
The Hobbit: The Battle Of The Five Armies, 2014
The Hobbit: The Desolation Of Smaug, 2013
Hollidaysburg, 2014
House On Haunted Hill, 1999
Ice Age: Continental Drift, 2012 (HBO)
Impractical Jokers: Inside Jokes
The Iron Giant, 1999
J. Edgar, 2011
Jason Goes To Hell: The Final Friday, 1993
Jason X, 2002
King Kong, 1976 (HBO)
The Last King Of Scotland, 2006 (HBO)
The Lego Batman Movie, 2017
The Lego Movie, 2014
The Lego Ninjago Movie, 2014
License To Wed, 2007
Life Stinks, 1991
Linda And The Mockingbirds, 2020 (HBO)
Little Man Tate, 1991 (HBO)
Looney Tunes: Back In Action, 2003
The Losers, 2010
Lowriders, 2017 (HBO)
Made, 2001 (HBO)
The Madness Of King George, 1994 (HBO)
Magic Mike, 2012
The Magical Wand Chase: A Sesame Street Special, 2017
Magnum Force, 1973
Malibu’s Most Wanted, 2003
The Man With The Golden Arm, 1955
The Mask, 1994
Menace II Society, 1993
Miss Julie, 2014 (HBO)
Money Talks, 1997
Mr. Nanny, 1993
Music And Lyrics, 2007
Must Love Dogs, 2005
Mystic River, 2003
National Lampoon’s Loaded Weapon 1, 1993
Needful Things, 1993
The Neverending Story, 1984
The Neverending Story II: The Next Chapter, 1991
New York Minute, 2004
Nights In Rodanthe, 2008
Nothing Like The Holidays, 2008
Now And Then, 1995
Ocean’s 11, 1960
Old School, 2003
On The Town, 1949
Once Upon A Sesame Street Christmas, Special Premiere
A Perfect World, 1993
Pleasantville, 1998
The Pledge, 2001
Popstar, 2005
Practical Magic, 1998
The Prophecy, 1995 (HBO)
The Prophecy 2, 1998 (HBO)
The Prophecy 3: The Ascent, 2000 (HBO)
Prophecy 4: The Uprising, 2005 (HBO)
Prophecy 5: The Forsaken, 2005 (HBO)
Radio Days, 1987
Red Tails, 2012 (HBO)
Rick And Morty, Season Four Premiere
The Right Stuff, 1983
Rock Star, 2001
Rosewood, 1997
Rumor Has It, 2005
Salvador, 1986 (HBO)
Scoop, 2006 (HBO)
The Sea Of Grass, 1947
The Secret Garden, 1993
Sesame Street, 1969
Sesame Street: Elmo’s Playdate, Special Premiere
Sesame Street’s 50th Anniversary Celebration, Special Premiere
Sinbad Of The Seven Seas, 1989 (HBO)
The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants, 2005
The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants 2, 2008
Smurfs Christmas Special, 1982
Some Came Running, 1958
Space Cowboys, 2000
Splendor In The Grass, 1961
Sudden Impact, 1983
Summer Catch, 2001
Swingers, 1996 (HBO)
Swordfish, 2001
A Tale Of Two Cities, 1935
Terminator 3: Rise Of The Machines, 2003
Terminator Salvation, 2009
Terms Of Endearment, 1983
Thief, 1981 (HBO)
Thirteen Ghosts, 2001
Tightrope, 1984
The Time Traveler’s Wife, 2009
Tis The Season To Be Smurfy, 1987
Titans, Seasons 1 & 2
Torque, 2004
Tower Heist, 2011 (HBO)
The Town That Santa Forgot, 1993
Troll, 1986 (HBO)
Troll 2, 1990 (HBO)
True Crime, 1999
Tweety’s High-Flying Adventures, 2000
Twilight Zone: The Movie, 1983 (HBO)
Una Semana (HBO)
Unaccompanied Minors, 2006
Untamed Heart, 1993 (HBO)
Veronica Mars, 2014
A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas, 2011 (Extended Version) (HBO)
We Bought A Zoo, 2011 (HBO)
When You Wish Upon A Pickle: A Sesame Street Special, 2018
Wild Wild West, 1999
Win A Date With Tad Hamilton!, 2004 (HBO)
Witches Of Eastwick, The, 1987
The Wood, 1999
Wyatt Earp, 1994
Yogi Bear’s All-Star Comedy Christmas Caper, 1982
Yogi’s First Christmas, 1980
Young Justice, Seasons 1-3
Zoo Animals (HBO)
November 2
Quadrophenia, 1979
We Are Who We Are, Season Finale (HBO)
A Woman Under The Influence, 1974
November 4
Looney Tunes, 1930 – 1969
November 6
Pecado Original (Aka Original Sin) (HBO)
November 7
The Dead Don’t Die, 2019 (HBO)
The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 2020 Inductions
November 9
Industry HBO Max Original Premiere
Food Wars! Shokugeki No Soma, Season 5 (Subtitled) (Crunchyroll Collection)
November 11
Patria, Season Finale (HBO)
November 12
My Sesame Street Friends, 2020
November 13
De Lo Mio (HBO)
Entre Nos: LA Meets NY (HBO)
November 14
Dolittle, 2020 (HBO)
November 15
Last Week Tonight With John Oliver, Season Finale (HBO)
Murder On Middle Beach, Docuseries Premiere (HBO)
November 16
His Dark Materials, Season Two Premiere (HBO)
Linda and the Mockingbirds, 2020 (HBO)
November 20
Porno Para Principiantes (Aka Porno For Newbies) (HBO)
November 21
Between the World and Me HBO Original Special Premiere
Real Time with Bill Maher, Season Finale (HBO)
Underwater, 2020 (HBO)
November 24
Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel (HBO)
Smurfs, Season 4, 1981
November 26
Stylish with Jenna Lyons 
Craftopia: Craft the Halls, HBO Max Special Premiere
Craftopia: Merry Craftmas!, HBO Max Special Premiere
The Flight Attendant, HBO Max Original Series Premiere
Superintelligence, HBO Max Original Film Premiere
November 27
Chateau Vato (HBO)
How To With John Wilson, Season Finale (HBO)
November 28
The Call Of The Wild, 2019 (HBO)
November 29
cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });
The Undoing, Season Finale (HBO)
Leaving HBO Max – November 2020
November 4
Aquaman, 2018 (HBO)
November 5
Rolling Stone: Stories From The Edge, 2017 (HBO)
Signs, 2002 (HBO)
November 25
Lady Day At Emerson’s Bar & Grill, 2016 (HBO)
November 26
All Def Comedy, 2017 (HBO)
November 30
24/7: Kelly Slater, 2019 (HBO)
All The President’s Men, 1976
Anastasia, 1997 (HBO)
Badlands, 1973
Batman Begins, 2005
Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead, 2007 (HBO)
Blinded By The Light, 2019 (HBO)
The Bodyguard, 1992
Bridesmaids, 2011 (Unrated Version) (HBO)
Bridget Jones’s Baby, 2016
Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, 1958
Charlotte’s Web, 1973
Cheech & Chong’s Up In Smoke, 1978
Chicago, 2002
Child’s Play 2, 1990 (HBO)
Child’s Play 3, 1991 (HBO)
Commando, 1985 (Director’s Cut) (HBO)
The Conversation, 1974
The Dark Knight, 2008
Dave, 1993
Deliverance, 1972
Dog Day Afternoon, 1975
Election, 1999
Ella Enchanted, 2004
Father Of The Bride, 1950
Going The Distance, 2010
Good Boys, 2019 (HBO)
The Haunting, 1999
JFK, 1991
The Kitchen, 2019 (HBO)
Little Shop Of Horrors, 1986 (Director’s Cut) (HBO)
Malcolm X, 1992
The Mask, 1994
Marathon Man, 1976
Pearl Harbor, 2001 (Director’s Cut) (HBO)
The Pelican Brief, 1993
Roger & Me, 1989
Sky High, 2005 (HBO)
Son Of The Mask, 2005
Stuber, 2019 (HBO)
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, 1990
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2, 1991
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3, 1993
TMNT, 2007
The post HBO Max New Releases: November 2020 appeared first on Den of Geek.
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andrewuttaro · 5 years
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New Look Sabres: GM 13 - ARI - 9-2-2
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Is this a trap game? I’ll admit I’m not familiar with the concept. Arizona has been on the edge of competitive since… always? Yeah they had that conference final appearance but we’re all kinda conditioned to think they’re bad. It’s the teams that you think you should beat but have a high likelihood to surprise you that constitute trap games, right? The Yotes had a rough start but have managed to off the likes of Nashville and the Rangers to arrive in Buffalo 6 and 4. Like the Buffalo Sabres everyone is still wondering if they might actually be good. Another thing these two teams have in common is a man named Phil Housley. After bouncing around a little bit following his firing from the Sabres Head Coach position in the Spring he finds himself the assistant Coach of the Arizona Coyotes. They are certainly trying to recapture his coaching talent from his time with the Nashville Predators where he benefited a lot from a stacked defense. When Lance Lysowski, the last good hockey writer at the Buffalo News, asked Housley if he would make any changes to his time as Sabres bench boss he responded: “Those are things I’ll keep to myself”. If there’s anything Phil Housley is good at its dodging the meat of a question, eh? All kidding aside that is the best possible answer to that question. What is he going to do, activate all the suburban hockey dads and roast one of the talented player’s compete level? I think it’s safe to say he’s done with Buffalo and really doesn’t want to be pressed into any talk about it. I put the feelers for what Sabres fans feel about Phil Housley on twitter. In the most unsurprising chain of events since missing the playoffs most of y’all responded with “tHe DaY hE gOt FiReD!” There were a couple interesting responses I’ll throw in at the end of this postgame. For now let’s dive into the Sabres Episode XIII: the Return of Housley!
The Sabres came out crisp as the Autumn air in the first period. They outshot and out-chanced a Yotes side that was up to the task. Arizona made the first mistake however when Lawson Crouse got called for tripping Evan Rodrigues. The powerplay has been a canary-in-the-coal-mine for the Sabres in the early going this season. If it’s firing bangers in the first period you can tell it will be a good game for us. The games the PP wasn’t exactly spinning well were the not so pretty games a la New York, LA, Detroit and Anaheim. Mind you they won half those games. I had hardly vocalized this thought when Jack Eichel gets kicked out of the faceoff circle and proceeds to score immediately thereafter with that classic slapper. It’s Eichel’s 23rd birthday and evidently he had not scored on his birthday yet in his career on this team. There it is, Happy Birthday, bud. The game evened up a bit down the gut of the period while the Sabres still got the prettier chances. It would be another pretty goal from the increasingly nice Marcus Johansson Jeff Skinner duo. They shut down some quality O-zone time for the Yotes and went off on the rush down ice. Skinner gave the puck to Johansson who didn’t skate too far before returning it to Skinner to tap it in. They did a little crisscross in the middle there and it was just so pretty. They were out to 2-0 lead, but again the Coyotes were not missing their chances either. In spite of being boxed out over and over again by Jack Eichel and Jake McCabe, old friend Phil Kessel got his looks. Victor Hinostroza seemed to be breathing down Hutton’s neck whenever he was in the zone. This Arizona side has allowed the fewest goals in the league so far, you have to be careful with them when they do get their chances. Before the first ended Carter Hutton let in a Conor Garland tight-angle shot that was less than stellar. It was hard to see how it went in from most angles but one at ice-level showed a big 3-hole. It was 2-1 through 20 minutes of play.
The home team came out hot in the second period as well. There was a push of play in the first ten minutes where the Sabres hemmed Arizona in their zone for 1:40 continuous minutes! It got uproarious cheering from the home crowd and to be frank it sent a shiver up my spine. You watch that kind of multi-minute dominance and you almost don’t recognize the squad in front of you. They were winning quick puck battles and nailing very tight passes. They looked like they were on a powerplay, but they were roasting wolf meat 5 on 5 in that stretch! Its that kind of peak “play connected” competitiveness and actualization of real skill that makes me believe this hot start is for real. In that glorious stretch I felt this squad was really and truly back from the darkness. I think they’re for real and I feel more confident than I ever have after that stretch. Unfortunately there is somehow always a reason to be a disappointed Sabres fan and we found it as Buffalo was not rewarded for the frightfully good first half of the period. Arizona pushed back, reclaimed the edge in shots and eventually got a fluke equalizer off Hutton’s ass. It was tied at 2 going into the third period and I’d like to share Rob Ray’s joy in saying this was the most fun Sabres game yet this season but I just can’t. The third period was vintage Sabres. When I use that phrase I’m referring to the 2010s Sabres. They had no lead but decided to more or less retreat into a defensive shell. They had let the expected goals darling of this young NHL season back into the game and in the third they let them take over. Every player wearing Blue and Gold on that sheet of ice saw their corsi percentage implode and had it not been for Carter Hutton standing on his head at times there would have been no loser point as solace. Evan Rodrigues started the game out hungry. By the third period he disappeared. Jake McCabe and Rasmus Ristolainen simultaneously decided to forget two respective lifetimes of hockey training and could not pass a puck without a turnover for the life of them. Now one might say the Sabres began playing for overtime. One word answer there pals: unacceptable. Regulation wins are the currency of dynasties and I don’t care how good the Sabres have looked in extra hockey so far this season. Stop with that garbage.
Arizona earned their overtime point having shelled Buffalo with shots at a 2-1 rate in the third. In overtime they registered the only official shot on goal. Apart from an Olofsson ringer of the crossbar this was the worst overtime period I’ve seen from this new Sabres squad. As with the regulation portion of the night if Victor Hinostroza or Phil Kessel converted any of their chances this would be a darker story. At one point even Hutton caught the turtle bug and turned over the puck in the corner almost gifting the Yotes an overtime winner. It was a jaw dropping overtime in more bad ways than good ones. It went to the shootout and all it took was Nick Schmaltz outmaneuvering Hutton to sink one to seal the visitor’s victory. This one ended 3-2 Coyotes and looked like a microcosm of the Sabres play through its now completed first month of the season: gloriously fun and evidently more cohesive as a team but very much still bearing the toothless mistrust of themselves and propensity to fail to complete games. They end October 9-2-2 and I think that record is very telling. They’ll will have to sit on this surrender until Friday when they travel to Washington to take on the Capitals. I think the last third period plus of this game earned them every little bit of the nagging sensation this outcome will weigh on them in those intermittent days.
So back to the Housley memories: he got some applause when the video tribute came on the jumbotron and I don’t necessarily hate that. BUT, and this is a big but, most of us Sabres fans simply will not remember him fondly, at least for his coaching tenure. One @alexa_mallare replied with her photo of the Fire Housley sign her and her family made and put up in the 300 level for a few glorious minutes at Fan Appreciation Night last season. According to her Rasmus Ristolainen caught sight of it during warmups and got a chuckle out of it. Alexa says the team staff held Housley in the tunnel while they were forced to take it down. Heroes! Heroes, I tell you! Those last few months of the season were so catatonic someone had to show signs of life and it ended up having to be us fans. @depressedbflos replied with the Rob Ray quotes that got dug up and promptly reburied before the Housley firing. Evidently Ray was not treated right as a rookie by Housley during their playing careers and Ray still holds it against him. The quotes were from a 2003 Buffalo News piece that someone rediscovered as Housley dug his own grave that Spring. I think that was the moment that I personally realized he was done. When you’re so reviled by the fanbase you got signs going up, 15-year-old quotes coming out AND the team is losing at a record clip its over. Unfortunately Housleyisms like throwing Sobotka out there in the dying minutes of a 2-2 tie aren’t lost on Ralph Krueger. However I think we can all agree this new guy is a whole lot better at… well… everything? Everything right?
The one guy who replied a positive gif of the former coach made sure to qualify afterward that he did not endorse the coaching acumen of Housley. What a crazy time we lived through, eh? This has been the roast of Phil Housley. Thank you for coming, please like, comment and share this blog on your way out. Should we be concerned about this current team? Eh, yes in certain places. Do I think they’ll win at this clip in November: no. Do I think they’ll win more games than they lose: yes. I really feel as though 9-2-2 is something to believe in. This club is really something new. I believe it and you should too. They’ve got two games left this weekend and then it’s off to Sweden. I choose to believe, and risk being hurt. I suggest you do too. What fun would this be if we all played it safe?
Thanks for Reading.
P.S. Happy Halloween everyone.
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glittership · 4 years
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Episode #77 — "The Quiet Realm of the Dark Queen" by Jenny Blackford
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Episode 77 is part of the Autumn 2018 issue!
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The Quiet Realm of the Dark Queen
by Jenny Blackford
    Dumuzi—my beautiful brother Dumuzi, lovelier than the first green shoots of barley rising from the dark mud of an irrigated field—Dumuzi was dead.
Father had not spoken for six days. Not long ago, he’d been a great king in the fullness of his manhood, but now he was hobbling around the halls of the palace like an old grasshopper waiting for death. His hair was gray; his face was grayer still.
Mother was quiet at last. For six full days and nights she’d wailed and screamed on her wide bed of gold, tearing her soft face and her lovely breasts with her nails, pulling great lumps of curled and scented hair from her luxuriant head, berating all the gods for their cruelty to her. The people said that she was no mere mortal beauty but a goddess walking on earth with us, and she did not disagree; but even if this were true, it did not diminish her fury against the other gods.
[Full story & transcript after the cut.]
  Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip Episode 77 for the longest March, 31st, 2020. This is your host, Keffy, and I’m super excited to be sharing this story with you. Our story for today is The Quiet Realm of the Dark Queen by Jenny Blackford read by Marcy Rae Henry and Amber Gray.
Before we get into the story, I’ve got a few things to say. First of all, much love to everyone out there in the world as we face this pandemic together. Love to all those who are suffering, whether from the virus itself, from loss of or fear for loved ones, from financial uncertainty, or from the fear of what the next day will bring. As in most times of extreme disaster, we’re seeing both acts of extreme sociopathy and extreme kindness. Please do what you can to stay safe. Once you’ve got your own oxygen mask on, see what you can do for others.
GlitterShip was originally going to run a full-sized Kickstarter in an attempt to increase our rates, but a combination of finances, time, and the magical world of Keffy-is-still-working-on-a-PhD made that deeply unfeasible, which only became moreso when the pandemic started really ramping up in the States.
That said, we are running a much smaller Kickstarter at https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/keffy/glittership-a-queer-sfandf-magazine-going-for-year-4 in order to fund the next year of GlitterShip through the end of 2020. The much smaller amount is designed to get us through the year and pay off some previous incurred debts. That said, there are also a few stretch goals just in case. If we go considerably over our goal, we’ll pay authors more, yay! As of this recording on March 31st, the Kickstarter is about 2/3 of the way funded. The Kickstarter is live until 9pm United States Eastern time on Friday, April 10, 2020.  Thank you so much in advance for helping me keep GlitterShip going.
Finally, this episode is from the last issue, but there’s going to be a new issue released extremely soon as we get back on track!
And now, onto “The Quiet Realm of the Dark Queen” by Jenny Blackford, read by Marcy Rae Henry and Amber Gray.
Jenny is an Australian writer and poet. Her poems and stories have appeared in Cosmos, Pulp Literature, Strange Horizons, and more. Pamela Sargent called her subersively feminist novella, The Priestess and the Slave, “elegant”. She won two prizes in the 2016 Sisters in Crime Australia Scarlet Stiletto awards for a murder mystery set in classical Delphi, with water nymphs. You can find her at www.jennyblackford.com.
Marcy Rae Henry is a Latina born and raised in Mexican-America/The Borderlands.  Her writing and visual art appears or is forthcoming in FlowerSong Books’ Selena Anthology, Thimble Literary Magazine,  New Mexico Review, The Wild Word, Beautiful Losers, The Acentos Review, World Haiku Review, Chicago Literati, The Chaffey Review, Shanghai Literary Review, Damaged Goods Press/TQ Review.  Her publication, The CTA Chronicles, received a Chicago Community Arts Assistance Grant and Cumbia Therapy, her collection of Spanglish stories, received an Illinois Arts Council Fellowship.  Ms. M.R. Henry is currently seeking publication of two novellas.  She is an Associate Professor of Humanities and Fine Arts at Harold Washington College Chicago.
Amber Gray is a theatre artist and lover of stories. She enjoys mimicking and creating character voices, especially in song, for her own amusement and the annoyance of those around her who have to put up with it. Thank you to Marcy for being such a good friend and neighbor, and for inviting her to have such a fun time with this project.
  The Quiet Realm of the Dark Queen
by Jenny Blackford
      Dumuzi—my beautiful brother Dumuzi, lovelier than the first green shoots of barley rising from the dark mud of an irrigated field—Dumuzi was dead.
Father had not spoken for six days. Not long ago, he’d been a great king in the fullness of his manhood, but now he was hobbling around the halls of the palace like an old grasshopper waiting for death. His hair was gray; his face was grayer still.
Mother was quiet at last. For six full days and nights she’d wailed and screamed on her wide bed of gold, tearing her soft face and her lovely breasts with her nails, pulling great lumps of curled and scented hair from her luxuriant head, berating all the gods for their cruelty to her. The people said that she was no mere mortal beauty but a goddess walking on earth with us, and she did not disagree; but even if this were true, it did not diminish her fury against the other gods.
“My life is nothing without him,” she’d screamed again and again. “Why did you not take me instead, or my husband, or my worthless, thankless, useless daughter?”
I was the useless daughter, of course. I had failed to save my brother from the demons that hunted him to the Underworld. My mother would never forgive me.
Finally, Mother swallowed enough sweet wine laced with poppy juice and honey from the alabaster cup I held to her lips to bring merciful sleep. Death would perhaps have been more merciful for her.
As I put down the cup and smoothed her hair, my mother woke herself just enough to hiss, “Far better that you had been taken, daughter, than him, Dumuzi, the beloved of my heart. Why did you not give yourself to the demons instead? Why did you let them take him? Why? How could you let them take him? My Dumuzi!”
And, truly, I understood. My brother Dumuzi had been more than beautiful, when he had walked this earth.
My suitors—brought by my father’s wealth and my mother’s beauty—had been enthusiastic enough, over the years, until each in his turn had seen my brother. Only a few men are immune to the charms of a pretty boy, and will always prefer the soft roundnesses of woman to a boy’s firm flats and hollows. Even those men, those devoted lovers of women, wanted my brother more than they wanted me, once they had met him. But all left the palace disconsolate: Dumuzi had eyes for none but peerless Ishtar, daughter of the Moon, queen of heaven and earth, goddess of love.
    I had not always been in second place. I was the firstborn child of our parents; when I was a toddler, I was my father’s delight, my mother’s plaything. Father ordered his artisans to make me golden carts with silver wheels, and dolls carved from fragrant cedar with eyes of lapis lazuli and hair of gold. Mother dressed me in tiny versions of court ladies’ dresses in blue and purple, fringed with silver and pearls, tinkling with the myriad silver moon-crescents sewn to them. But in my fourth year, my mother’s belly swelled again.
Even as a newborn babe, Dumuzi shone tender as the spring sun on a field of emmer wheat. I was forgotten. Kings and wise men came from the ends of the earth with gifts of jewels and spices, merely to gaze on my brother’s shining face. The peasants bowed down to him; the slaves openly worshipped him as a god.
But now that Dumuzi was dead, now that the demons had taken him to the Underworld in exchange for his lover, the goddess Ishtar, no man could bear to look upon my face; they turned their heads in angry grief for my brother. Women screamed and wept, tearing at their cheeks and their clothes. If they had dared, they’d have attacked me with their bare hands.
Even the sheep, which Dumuzi had loved above all other beasts, refused to walk to their grassy fields. The noises that they made were so full of grief that they would have brought sorrow to the heart of the most joyful stranger. The sun was hot in the sky, burning the crops, and the fertile irrigated fields were cracked, dry mud. Only the old vizier came to my room and wept with me for my brother’s death. Perhaps the people were right; perhaps it would have been better if I had died, instead of him.
But it was not my fault that Dumuzi was taken from us as ransom for Ishtar. Only the gods knew why the goddess had challenged her sister’s power in the Underworld and been trapped there. I had done my best to protect my brother, as an older sister must, when demons were sent to drag him to the Underworld to take mighty Ishtar’s place.
The demons had threatened me with death when they searched for him; they even tried to bribe me with precious water and with fields of grain. But my brother was my river of precious water; he was my field of grain. I could never have betrayed him. It was not me who gave him up to the demons, but his childhood companion, his dearest male friend, who took the bribe. But no one cared. They loved my brother Dumuzi so much that they loved his friend for his sake; my less lovely face reminded them too much of my beautiful sibling.
After another night of evil dreams, I could not bear it another moment. A little before noon, I went to the Field of the Winged Bulls.
    The life-sized sculptures of the human-headed bulls that guarded the entrance to the palace, strong golden wings tucked against their massive basalt flanks, made all who saw them catch their breath in fear and awe. Though the bulls’ magic protected the city, few other than the members of our family had ever seen the models for those sculptures in real life.
The winged bulls and their mates, in the flesh, were more glorious in appearance and in power than words could tell, but they detested the eyes of human strangers. A plump, bejeweled dynasty of blond slaves from the north tended to all their needs: combed their glossy blue-black hides, polished their golden hoofs, fed them the figs and dates, sweet grapes and honey cakes that they craved; but I was the only living human, other than their slaves, whom they permitted to enter their compound.
The human-headed bulls lazed with their herd in the shade under the date palms, in the vast enclosure that they had requested a thousand years ago, when they’d taken up residence in the city. The huge twin males, rulers of the herd, lay perfectly still, not moving a feather or a shining hair, while the three queen females slowly fanned them with their wide golden wings. Six or seven smaller beasts, close to fully grown, lay quietly around them. Even the frisky calves, their wings mere buds on their shoulders, were relatively placid in the heat, scuffling quietly in the grass for fallen dates.
The two great bulls spoke steadily to one another, their deep voices strange and sonorous to human ears. Their faces looked human, but the sounds that they could make in those deep chests were beyond the reach of any man or woman, or ordinary animal, alive. No human had ever learnt more than a few words of their language. They far preferred for us to speak to them in courtly Sumerian or everyday Akkadian, rather than to hear their ancient, sacred speech distorted and defiled by human mouths.
They would not tell us—not even me, their longtime favorite—where they had come from before they took refuge in our palace, except that it was somewhere long ago and very far away. “You wouldn’t understand, child,” they’d said when I’d asked them, when I was young. “It was our destiny. It was in the stars. We are here, now. That’s all you need to know of where we came from.” They’d looked so sad, as they answered me, that I never dared cause them sorrow by asking again.
The deep poetry of the twin bulls’ ancient voices as they conversed in their own language was strangely soothing. I stood leaning against the warm stone wall of the huge enclosure listening, not comprehending anything they said, but slowly growing calmer, until they spoke to me.
“You are unhappy, Geshtinanna,” one of them said. “Is it your brother?”
I nodded.
“Of course,” the other said. “How could things be otherwise, when humans are involved? And the people blame you, though you are surely blameless?”
I nodded again. I did not want to burst into tears in front of the bulls.
The first one said, “Even we were powerless to prevent this fate from falling upon your brother. How could your people believe for a moment that you had the power to challenge the will of the gods?”
I squeezed my eyes tight shut, but fat tears ran down my cheeks nonetheless.
The three dominant females spoke together for some time, after that. I wiped my tears on the hem of my dress and watched their grave conversation. Their voices were like the sound of great bronze bells, sweet but dangerously strong. The males listened, silent like me, as the massive females spoke, each in her turn.
At last, the largest of the females flicked a golden wingtip against my hand, gently as a kiss, and gave me their decision: “You must go to the wise woman, child. Go to Siduri, the woman who brews her beer and keeps her tavern at the end of the earth, by the shores of the Waters of Death. She will advise you what you must do.”
Mother had told me tales of Siduri, of course. Siduri’s tavern, with its peerless beer-vat made from pure gold, stood by the fabled Garden of the Gods, full of vines hung with gems, shrubs with jewels instead of flowers, fat gemstones in the place of fruit. Mother described it endlessly, greedily. Perhaps the people were right; perhaps Mother was a goddess in truth and belonged there in the jeweled garden. Perhaps she would have been happier there. But the place held dangers as well as riches. A single drop from the deep abyss of the Waters of Death could kill in an instant.
“But how do I travel to the ends of the earth, to consult Siduri?” I asked the powerful inhuman creature lying on the grass in front of me. “I am a woman virtually alone, ignored now in my parents’ own palace, though I was born a princess here. Even with the strongest men from my father’s army, I could not hope to travel through the well-armed kingdoms and the trackless wastes between our city and Siduri’s tavern. Even a hero would surely die in the attempt.”
The human-faced female who spoke now for the herd spread out her golden wings in a graceful gesture. “You see my children, and my sisters’ children, all about you. The oldest of them was born some centuries ago, now, and they are almost full-grown, though still young by our standards. We have taught them all we know: astronomy, astrology, cosmogony, theology, geometry, mythology and more.”
I just nodded. What could I say?
She went on, “We will send Kalla with you on your quest, child. She is not much more than three hundred years old, or thereabouts, but she is wise for her age, as you also are.”
One of the young winged cows lifted her head, then and looked at me. Her eyes were the hard, pure blue of the best lapis lazuli, but fierce intelligence shone in them. But did her mouth tremble with suppressed fear? I tried to smile bravely at her. I was a princess. A princess might know fear, but she must never show it.
The older female spoke again. “You and Kalla will do well together, we believe.” She sighed. “We hope so. This quest could be more dangerous than any that we have attempted for many years.”
Fear touched me with its black wing, then, but what could I do? My life in the palace, or anywhere in Father’s kingdom, was insupportable. Each moment pricked me to the heart like a sharp bronze dagger. A quest to the ends of the earth and perhaps beyond with a wise, if young, winged beast could hardly be more painful, or more difficult. It was more than likely, I knew, that I would die; but Dumuzi was already dead. What was my life worth now?
“Thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say. Father’s elderly vizier had coached me well in diplomatic language since my toddlerhood, training me to be a good queen when the time came, but this was not one of the endless number of situations that he had covered.
“Go now, child,” the old female said, “and prepare yourself. This will be no ordinary journey. Pack a little food and water, yes, but other things too. And return soon. It would be best for you to leave before the sun is low in the sky.”
I made a formal gesture of thanks, as the vizier had taught me, and rushed back to my room. To my relief, I reached the room before I burst into flooding tears.
    After I composed myself and packed, I went to say farewell to my family.
In my mother’s room, the chief of her women barred the way to her bed, hissing like a snake in an irrigation ditch.
“Geshtinanna! Who do you think you are,” she said, “coming to torment the Queen? You let Dumuzi die, you slut, you useless bitch. Do you think she ever wants to see your face again? Do you think she will ever again call you daughter, after what you did? Go!”
I went, saddened but dry-eyed.
My father, in his throne room, looked at me, then away. The vizier by his side, his hands shaking, pulled at my father’s elbow. “It is your daughter, my King,” he whispered. “It is Geshtinanna. She comes to speak with you.” But Father’s eyes, and mind, were somewhere else, somewhere not good.
The vizier followed me to the door. “I am sorry,” he said. “Your father the King…he is not himself, these days. He will recover, in time. The doctors say so. We must wait patiently.”
“Yes,” I said, then turned to leave.
He looked stricken. “It was not your fault,” he said, in a rush. “The gods know, it was not your fault. The people are like silly sheep. Even their leaders are like sheep. It was not your fault.”
I gave him the formal embrace of sincere thanks which he had first tried to teach me when I was a clumsy four-year-old princess. We were both in tears when I left the room.
Soon, though, I stood again in the Field of the Winged Bulls, this time with all the pieces of my old life that I intended to take with me when I left the palace. Around my neck I wore a necklace that Mother had given me when she still loved me, flat red-gold links with a cow carved from lapis lazuli hanging down from the central point, and from my earlobes dangled crescent earrings covered in golden granulations, also her gift. On my hands were three rings set with hunks of carnelian, sapphire and emerald, all from my father, each given to mark an auspicious birthday. My right wrist bore a bangle of bright beads from the Indus Valley, a gift from Dumuzi, and my left ankle held an anklet of heavy gold inscribed with the signs of the greatest gods, the symbols of the Sun, the Moon, Venus, Mercury and Mars.
There were gold and less precious objects—brooches and pins and other small gewgaws that I could exchange for what I needed on the journey—in a soft leather sack concealed under my dress, and another one, flashier, with less gold in it, tied to my belt. In a bag strapped over my shoulder I had a water-skin, plus soft cheese and juicy half-dried figs; they would last maybe two days. The journey could take months, or never end; I would get more food and drink when I needed it, or not at all.
Kalla was at one end of the compound, alone. I walked over to her.
“You must settle yourself behind my wings,” she said, flicking her tail nervously. “I will carry you where the elders say you must go.” Her blue eyes glanced at the herd at the other end of the compound, then looked back down into my face.
I was going to ride on her back?
“Oh,” I said, looking at that glossy expanse of hide, higher and wider than my father’s royal throne, almost as wide as my bed.
But what had I imagined? That we would walk together sedately through the palace gates, with the people waving us on our way, and proceed on foot to the ends of the earth?
Kalla’s tail flicked again. I could feel her anxiety overlaid on my own. This would be her first time away from her herd, and it would be no easier for her than for me. But she was too stressed to understand that I—a princess, but all the same a puny human female—could not vault onto her back, higher than the top of my head. What could I say, that would not cause her shame in front of the herd?
What would the vizier do, that consummate old diplomat, in my position? His daily lessons had almost become second nature: I must let Kalla work out the problem for herself. I put up my right arm, tentatively, and touched her high on her ribs, barely brushing the glossy blue-black hairs. Her head turned and her eyes followed my movement and the extension of my arm. She blinked in what must have been a mixture of dismay and amusement.
“I’ll kneel for you,” she said, and settled gracefully onto the grass.
It was my turn for dismay. How could I sit on so wide an expanse of back? Kalla was three or four times the size of the asses and wild donkeys that men rode. The dress I wore was practical and simple, plain linen, well designed for dusty travel, with no golden fringes, no tinkling ornaments. Nonetheless, it was too tight for me to stretch my legs so far.
There was only one real possibility. I bent down to my right ankle and ripped the linen of my dress up to mid-thigh. I could pin it together when I needed to be respectable again. Then I lifted my bared right leg over Kalla’s shining back—when I touched her hide, it was like silk from the fabled Orient, beyond the sunrise—and sat. My legs were wide stretched, and it would be painful in time, but for the first time in my life I was grateful for the tedious stretches and long poses of the lessons that I’d been forced to take, for the sacred dances day and night before the gods in their solemn festivals.
“You will not fall,” Kalla said, but her voice sounded a little nervous to me. “Don’t be afraid of that. The elders have arranged for an attachment spell to keep you safe. If you want, through, you can put your hands under where the wings connect to my shoulders. They tell me that you can hold firmly there without hurting me.”
I felt thick muscle under my hands, sunwarmed and strong as stone. I grasped as tightly as I dared.
Kalla stood up onto all fours so carefully that I scarcely shifted, though I was seated so precariously there on her flat back. She turned then towards the herd, which had carefully been ignoring us. The winged beasts were better diplomats even than Father’s vizier.
Kalla cried out to them in her own language, in her voice like a well-tempered bell. Her wide golden wings had already started beating.
“Farewell,” I called, more softly, and waved. “Thank you.” By the time I’d finished speaking, we were in the air above the palace, then flying south-east along the River.
    It was as if my gilded silver bed with its duckdown-stuffed mattress had taken wings and started to fly through the sky. I felt as safe sitting on Kalla’s back as I would have on my own bed, and no more likely to fall off. Kalla’s passage through the air was stately, but, even if she hadn’t told me, it would have been clear that a magical force was operating to keep me safely positioned on her shiny-smooth skin. Luckily so: a tumble would have seen me dead, smashed and drowned in the great river which was our kingdom’s life. Mentally, I thanked whichever of Kalla’s herd it was who’d thought to use the spell.
The river Buranun—our land’s lifeblood—was even lovelier from the air than from the earth. I gazed down on its turns and bends, the reedy marshes full of waterbirds, the farmlands irrigated with its water, and the great stone temples of the gods. Sometimes, when we were high or it was close, I even caught sight of our river’s eastern twin, the Idigna. The vizier had taught me the names of the cities there, and their various strengths and weaknesses, in case Father chose one of their foreign kings as my husband. I’d never thought to see it from the air.
No one down below took the least notice of us. “I’m flying high enough that even the sharpest-sighted won’t be able to see anything distinctly,” Kalla said. “They won’t understand how big I am; they’ll think me an eagle, or something of the sort. And they won’t see you at all, Geshtinanna. You’re much too small, you tiny human. It would take two or three of you to make one of our newborn calves.” She laughed deep in her massive chest; after a moment, I laughed too.
We flew for many days, or perhaps months, stopping in the evening only when Kalla sighted a small town, a few isolated farms, where she could stay concealed in the shelter of trees or rocks while I found a farmer’s wife who would be happy to give me food and fill my water-skin for a small piece of gold, even though I was a woman travelling alone. When it grew dark, I slept curled against Kalla’s warm back, comforted by her firm bulk. Her quiet snores made my sleep sweet.
On the first evening it could have been pure luck that I was met with nothing but kindness by a woman busy in her farmhouse. No threats, no violence, no greed at the sight of my gold. But I had learned too much of human nature, both in theory and in practice, to think it normal or natural, after three nights.
“I don’t know,” Kalla said, when I challenged her about the mystery. “It’s not magic, or if it is I’ve never learnt it. The places I stop in just look right, feel right. They call to me.”
“Snakes and dogs know when an earthquake is coming,” I said. “Birds fly north from our marshes, every year, and back again, and winged butterflies build themselves from creeping caterpillars in their cocoons. The wise men call that unknown knowledge instinct. Perhaps you have an instinct for kindness.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Kindness is good. It is worth seeking.” She looked thoughtful, after that, until she slept.
The next night, as we lay together in the grass under some fig trees, and I apportioned her the larger share of the dates that I’d received from yet another pleasant woman, I asked the question which had worried me since my childhood, when I used to watch the blond slaves tending to the herd’s needs: “How is it that your people are so large, and yet you eat so little?”
“Hmm,” Kalla said, flicking the tips of her wings in amusement. “No one has dared ask us that before. But the answer is simple: we eat merely for pleasure, not out of physical need. We need no food as you humans do, or your animals. Would you like more of the dates?”
“Thank you, but no,” I said. I was blushing with embarrassment. All my childhood, Kalla’s herd had lazed in the compound at the palace, flicking away flies, munching slowly—but they were not mere cattle. Far from it. I said, “I should have known better. I was taught better. You are not mortal, as we are, but guardian djinn, more akin to the gods than to us.”
“Yes, it’s something like that,” Kalla said, laughing the strange, deep laugh of her kind. “We absorb the energy from the sun, as plants do. But it’s too complicated to explain. Push those delicious-smelling fresh dates closer to my mouth, human, and stop worrying about it.” She grinned, then, and used a golden wingtip to brush my head softly.
I tried to treat Kalla more deferentially after that, more as one ought to treat an immortal guardian and less as a friend, but I kept failing. It was like water in the desert, after all my lonely years, to have someone to talk to.
One evening towards the end, as I dismounted, Kalla told me to get all the food I could carry, when I went to the farmhouse nearby.
“Can you see those mountains in the distance?” she asked. “Those little bumps on the horizon? They’re the Mountains of Mashu, the boundary of your human realm, higher and wider than you can imagine. Some say they’re impassable, that they stretch to the heavens. We will come to them tomorrow. There will be streams of pure water, but no farms—no human beings who eat the food that you do.”
After that, we flew not over fertile river plains or even desert but over the rocks and boulders of the mountainside. In the evenings, Kalla refused any of my stores of fruit and cheese.
“I’m not sure how long this will take, trying to skirt around the side of these mountains,” she said. “You need those good-smelling edible things, and I don’t. No, don’t argue, human. I’m older than you. And much bigger.” Her face was serious; only the twitching of her tail told me that she was teasing.
After nine days of mountain flying—cliffs and ravines, springs and cataracts, stands of tall pines and regal cedars—the stocks in my food-pouch were almost gone. I tried not to worry. I had enough for tonight, just barely.
“Look,” Kalla said, around noon. “The glitter, below us. It is the Garden of the Gods, I’m sure it is.” She sounded relieved. Surely my guide and protector had not doubted that she could find it?
I looked down, and gasped.
I had grown up in a palace, surrounded by the riches of men and gods. I used to eat from silver plates, and drink from a golden cup set with gemstones. Mother glittered like the stars in the night sky when she was hung about with gold and jewels for state occasions, and Father’s green alabaster throne set with carnelian and chrysoprase glinted in torchlight.
But this was a garden as big as our city, or larger, with each shrub, each tree, each lush vine scattered with bright jewels in place of fruit and flowers. It was just as Mother had told me, but larger, brighter, more real—and more divine. This was indeed the Garden of the Gods. How had I dared come here?
My awe and wonder at the jeweled garden only increased as we flew closer and I could see more and more gemstones encrusting the plants. And then I saw the sea. It was like our River in flood, but impossibly wide. It stretched to the far horizon and beyond. And then the truth hit me: the Mountains of Mashu, the Garden of the Gods, the wide blue sea—I was where Kalla’s elders had sent me, the fabled ends of the earth. I must find Siduri and ask her advice.
    As it happened, I didn’t need to find Siduri. She came to meet me while I was still scrambling down from Kalla’s back.
“We must talk, girl,” Siduri said to me, then looked at Kalla. “You—guardian being—what is your name?”
My massive mount said, “I am Kalla, Goddess.”
Goddess? Of course, I thought. People called Siduri a wise woman, but how could she live here, brewing ale in a vat given to her by the gods, unless she too was one of them, a goddess in her own right?
Siduri nodded. “Kalla, you may now graze on the fruits of the Garden of the Gods.”
Kalla bowed before Siduri. Her human-seeming face was almost impassive as that of the carved bull statues that guard my father’s palace, but I could see the suppressed joy around those stony blue eyes. Kalla moved sedately towards the glowing jewels, her body a picture of restrained decorum.
“The jewels of the gods are a delicacy for Kalla’s kind,” Siduri told me. “They give them strength and wisdom.”
I just stood there helpless before the goddess, my knees trembling, my mind almost blank. Siduri took me by the hand, led me to a bench in front of her tavern, and gave me a silver cup of ale, also pouring one for herself from a golden jug.
“But now,” she said, “you must drink my ale. I have few mortal visitors, here at the ends of the earth, but my ale is excellent.”
I sipped; it was the best I’d ever tasted, better even than the finest of wines in the palace.
“It is excellent indeed, Goddess,” I said. “Thank you.”
“So tell me, girl,” Siduri said. “Why are you so sad?”
That much was simple. “Demons dragged my brother, beautiful Dumuzi, down to the Underworld.”
“Ah, I heard about that. So you are the sister, valiant Geshtinanna, who tried to protect him.”
Unshed tears made my throat hoarse. “I failed.”
The goddess shook her head. “Whether you had failed or not, your brother would have died soon enough. He could perhaps have had ten more years, twenty, maybe even fifty, but death comes to all mortals. It is best if you accept it. Take joy in everyday pleasures: warm baths, clean clothes, good food and drink, making love with your husband, feeling your child’s hand in your own.”
Wise men and poets had said the same thing since the dawn of time. It didn’t help.
I said, “That is excellent advice, Goddess, I have no doubt. But my city is falling to ruin. My mother has had no rest since her son was taken by the demons, and my father the king will not speak even to his closest advisers. Even the slaves and the sheep lament him. The sun burns the crops, and our fields are cracked, dry mud. To escape the sorrow of my brother’s death, I would need to leave my city and my people, never to see them again, and still I would feel their grief and anger.”
Siduri poured herself another cup of ale. “But, Geshtinanna, to leave her family is the lot of all women, whether peasant, noble or goddess. Every woman of marriageable age must leave her father’s house and her mother’s rooms and live instead in a house of strangers. The more exalted the family, the farther the woman must travel from her home.”
I sipped cool ale from my cup before I replied. “That is all too true, Goddess. Indeed, if any of my suitors had paid my bride-price, he would have taken me far from my parents’ palace. His mother would have become my mother, and his father my father. Perhaps, indeed, I would never have seen my own parents again, nor the place where I was born.” Still, it did not help.
The goddess gestured around her. “So why are you here?”
The words came unbidden to my lips. “I must find Dumuzi.”
I hadn’t known, until that instant, what I was going to say. But it was true: the purpose of my quest was to find my brother—in the Underworld. Everything in my life pushed me towards that destiny.
The goddess sighed. “I was afraid of that. Your mortal race finds it so hard to accept death, though it is your lot.”
Death is not the lot of the immortal gods, I thought. Why must it be our lot? Why must we accept it? But I did not speak.
Siduri drained her cup. I looked down and found that mine, too, was empty. The goddess said, “If that is what you want, you must go to the Dark Queen, Ereshkigal.”
Ereshkigal, the Queen of the Underworld, the Queen of the Dead. Ishtar’s sister.
For a moment, the world went hazy-white around me. If I had not been sitting on the bench, I might have fallen. But I remembered the vizier, and how he had trained me. I took a slow, deep breath, and lifted my head high.
“How do I find Ereshkigal?” I asked.
“Ah, that’s an interesting question,” the goddess said. “For mortals, there are many paths to the quiet realm of the Dark Queen. I could slip a simple poison into your cup, or touch you with a single drop of the Waters of Death out there—” the goddess pointed to the sea, moving blue-green against the shoreline in front of us “—or merely wish you dead.”
Gods! I took another deep breath.
Siduri touched my hand, gently and kindly, and said, “But you are fortunate, Geshtinanna. Kalla will take you to the Underworld.”
My heart shuddered at the thought of exposing Kalla to that danger. “Can I ask that of her?”
“Perhaps you could not,” the goddess replied, “though she is no mortal creature. But I will ask her, and she will not refuse me.”
    Soon I sat again on Kalla’s broad back, my heart hammering, my fear-cold hands gripping the muscles below her wings. Siduri’s kiss of farewell burned on my cheek.
This time I took no fruit, no water-skin. There was neither eating nor drinking in the Underworld.
Kalla said, “It would be best if you closed your eyes, Geshtinanna. Your kind is not designed for a journey such as this.”
I squeezed my eyelids shut and felt a sudden sensation of dropping through the void. My bowels were cold. There was darkness and confusion all around me: first whirling heat and pressure on my head and body, then a windy emptiness and a searing cold. I heard cries of terror, whimpers and moans. It could have lasted a moment or a year.
Then all was still and quiet, and I opened my eyes. I was in a great cavern, naked as a newborn baby, and stripped of my seven pieces of jewelry, gifts from my family and reminders of my past. Kalla stood beside me, shining blue-black in the light of the torches on the rough-cut walls.
In front of us stood the Queen of the Dead, Ereshkigal, incomparably lovely in her nakedness. A horned crown sat on her glistening hair. Strong dark wings hung behind her, from shoulders to knees. Her hands were almost like human hands, though her nails were talons, but her feet were the strong claws of a bird of prey. Those terrifying feet gripped the backs of twin lions, and two great owls, each as tall as a ten-year-old child, flanked her. She was as beautiful and as terrible as an army arrayed for battle.
“What do you want, mortal woman?” Ereshkigal asked. Her voice was that of a lion calling in the night, or of a huge owl hunting before moonrise. My breathing quickened at the sound, despite my fear.
I could not lie to her. “I have come to seek Dumuzi,” I said.
The goddess bared her teeth, and the hairs bristled at the nape of my neck. She said, snarling, “Are you sent by my treacherous sister Ishtar? Are you one of her devotees?”
I trembled. “No, Goddess. I have no love for mighty Ishtar. I am Dumuzi’s sister, Geshtinanna. My brother was Ishtar’s husband, then her ransom to leave this place. The demons sent to free your mighty sister snatched my brother Dumuzi and brought him here, to your dark realm, in her stead.”
The goddess settled her glorious wings against her back. “Surely my sister sent you. All men and women who walk on the earth serve the Goddess of Love and Battle.”
I shook my head. “I do not do the will of Ishtar, no matter how great she is, and how much adored. If it were not for Ishtar and her love for my brother, he would still walk on the earth, living and breathing. Why would I do her bidding?”
“Then why are you here?” The goddess glowed with unearthly beauty. Her breasts were like ripe pomegranates, her eyes the color of the night sky. I felt myself falling, helpless, into that deep, starry sky.
I took a breath. “Truly, Goddess, I am here for my own sake, and my mother’s, and my father’s, and my city’s. My parents are mad with grief. Our city falls to ruin. The sun burns the crops, and the fields are dry. Even the slaves and the sheep lament him.”
The goddess Ereshkigal asked, “Do you desire to come here, as his ransom, to take his place? Do you wish to live here in my kingdom?”
I gasped and knew that this was what I had sought without understanding: to live forever in Ereshkigal’s dark realm, in her fearful presence.
I bowed my head, ashamed. “My brother Dumuzi’s beauty made him a god, or equal to one. He was beloved of a goddess. He was enough to ransom Ishtar, great goddess of the earth and sky, from your power. I am a mortal woman. Am I enough to free my brother, and take his place?”
Ereshkigal frowned. On her face, even a frown was glorious. “Perhaps not, my mortal Geshtinanna,” she said. “But I will beseech the gods on high that they might allow the exchange, if that is truly what you wish.”
She gazed into my eyes, into my soul. I fell into her darkness, and stars swirled around me.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes. It is truly what I wish.”
The goddess put out a sharp-taloned hand to my right breast—was she going to kill me now, slash me with those glittering claws? I held my breath, waiting for pain and death.
Instead, Ereshkigal pinched my nipple, tenderly. Fire ran through me, but it was the fire of pleasure, not of pain. Again, I gasped, and blushed.
The goddess smiled in delight. “You tell the truth, mortal. Truly, you do wish to dwell here with me.”
“Yes,” I said. I watched her hands, her eyes. I needed her to touch me again.
“You and I have something in common,” the dark goddess said. “We are both sisters of siblings beloved by all.”
“Yes,” I said. Touch me.
“Beautiful Dumuzi, lovely Ishtar.” She stroked my ear, my throat, with those clawed fingers. I shivered, but I was not cold.
“Yes.” Please, touch me.
The goddess kissed my hair, my cheek, my lips. “To me, you are more beautiful than Dumuzi.”
“To me,” I said, catching my breath, “you are lovelier than Ishtar.”
    The gods on high decreed that I, a mortal woman, would not suffice to ransom Dumuzi entirely, but that I could take his place in the Underworld for half of every year; for that time, my brother would walk the earth.
It was enough. Our city rejoiced, the sheep jumped in the fields, the irrigated soil abounded with crops, and Mother and Father were filled to overflowing with happiness. I was pleased for their sake, but I could no longer live there, with them, after all that had happened.
For half of each cycle of the sun, now, I dwell in Ereshkigal’s dark realm, sharing her fierce pleasures. No woman knows greater bliss. But when Dumuzi returns underground and the sun is hot in the sky, I am compelled to return to the world of the living. I travel the earth, then, with Kalla, best of companions. If you look carefully enough at the hawks and eagles that fly high in the sky, one day you might be startled to see her golden wings flashing in the sun. Look for me riding on her back.
END
  “The Quiet Realm of the Dark Queen” was originally published in Dreaming of Djinn, edited by Liz Grzyb and is copyright Jenny. Blackford, 2013.
This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library.
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Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with a whole new issue and a GlitterShip original, “The Ashes of Vivian Firestrike” by Kristen Koopman.
Episode #77 — “The Quiet Realm of the Dark Queen” by Jenny Blackford was originally published on GlitterShip
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surveys-r-us · 5 years
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“dancing with a stranger”
1. Which song describes the mood you are in right now? As Long As You Love Me - Backstreet Boys 2. Which song describes the mood you are usually in? Time of the Season - The Zombies 3. Which song describes one of your favorites things to do?
Carried Away - Passion Pit 4. Which song describes something else you like to do? Miss You - The Rolling Stones (lol but no) 5. Which song explains the way you think about love? Pulling Leaves Off Trees - Wallows 6. What would you sing to your soulmate right now? Born and Raised - John Mayer
7. Which song best represents you? Pork Soda - Glass Animals 8. Which song describes your sexual preference? Somebody’s Crying - Chris Isaak 9. Which song describes what would occur between you and a (male) prostitute The A Team - Ed Sheeran 10. Your lover on the side? The Story Never Ends - Lauv 11. How about your wife or husband?
Henrietta - The Fratellis 12. Which song would be played at your wedding? Adam’s Song - blink-182 (that’s not depressing or anything) 13. Which song would be played at your wedding reception? Troublemaker - Weezer
14. Which song describes yourself in the future? Even the Losers - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (lol great)
15. Which song describes yourself in the past? Broadway - The Goo Goo Dolls 16. Which song would be appropriate for a one night stand? Dilemma - Nelly and Kelly Rowland  17. Which song would best describe your first time kissing? Last Young Renegade - All Time Low 18. Your first time having sex? Most of Us Are Sad - Eagles 19. Which song would best describe your fashion sense? How to Save a Life - The Fray
20. Which song would describe your taste in the opposite or same sex? I Don’t Know You - The Marías 21. Which song best describes your parents? Big Yellow Taxi - Counting Crows 22. Which song best describes your family in general?
Believe - Mumford & Sons
23. Which song best describes your friends? Lost - Dermot Kennedy 24. Which song best describes your school?
2021 - Vampire Weekend 25. Which song best describes your public personality? Murder - Justin Timberlake and Jay-Z 
26. Which song best describes your private personality? Still Waiting - Sum 41 27. The weather outside is…
Life of the Party - The Weeknd
28. I feel like… Steal My Sunshine - Len 29. I would really love to… I Want to Hold Your Hand - The Beatles 30. No one can stop me from… Day I Die - The National 31. Today I will… Living Loving Maid (She’s Just a Woman) - Led Zeppelin
32. Love is like… Good Life - Kanye West and T-Pain 33. I would call myself…
Dream of Mickey Mantle - Bleachers
34. I’ve never been to… Sincerity is Scary - The 1975 35. If I were a… Cherry Bomb - John Mellencamp 36. Never forget… Don’t Throw It Away - Jonas Brothers 37. Noone believes me when… A Song About Being Sad - Rex Orange County
38. I would never… Good Times Bad Times - Led Zeppelin 39. I could see myself as… All Together Now - The Beatles 40. I’m as fun as… Wild World - Cat Stevens 41. I wish… Jello On My Mind - Half Moon Run 42. He will never understand why… Heroes or Ghosts - The Coronas 43. I’m nearly…
Blue Ridge Mountains - Fleet Foxes 44. I want to see… Autumn Love - Death Cab for Cutie 45. At night time… Best Days - Graham Colton 46. My fashion sense is… Hard Times - The Wild Feathers 47. I cry when… I’d Love to Change the World - Ten Years After 48. The moon is… Love is Blindness - U2
49. I get tired when… Can’t Take My Eyes Off You - Frankie Valli
50. I lack… Shameless - The Weeknd
51. I’m so absorbing in… To: My Old Self - Real Friends 52. I should be… Candy Paint - Post Malone 53. I can’t seem to forget… I’m Made of Wax, Larry, What Are You Made of? - A Day to Remember  54. Where in the world is… Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd 55. I don’t want to hear… Fallingwater - Maggie Rogers 56. Don’t give up on… Pursuit of Happiness - Kid Cudi (aw this one actually works) 
57. I should give up on… Take a Break - Hamilton  58. I want to be… The Air I Breathe - The Hollies
59. I like alot of… Stockholm - Judah & the Lion
60. I often think about… Hunger - Florence + the Machine 61. I don’t understand why… Sober - G-Eazy and Charlie Puth
62. Guys are… I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys 63. Girls go to… Bear Claws - The Academic 64. I’m in trouble for… Sad Song - Scotty Sire 65. Candy is for… No You Girls - Franz Ferdinard
66. Take me to… Surrender - Angels & Airwaves 67. All I’ve ever cared about was… Waste a Moment - Kings of Leon
68. Take me away from… I Can’t Explain - The Who 69. The worst possible thing is…
The Blizzard - John Denver 
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flauntpage · 5 years
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Ten Reasons Why College Football is Better Than the NFL
Can you smell it? It’s the aroma of tailgate food wafting into my nostrils, overpowering the funky odor that generally hangs over the River Wards.
Autumn is just around the corner, and that means you can strap me down and inject college football directly into my veins. I want to overdose on it. I want to wake up in a daze, turn to my television, and slowly focus in on the score in the upper left corner:
West Virginia 55, Virginia Tech 0.
Give it to me. Give me Manny Diaz going 0-12 and getting himself fired. Give me Penn State vs. Pittsburgh and Temple vs. Maryland and Villanova vs. Delaware. I want it all, and I want it now, as Freddie Mercury used to say.
Here are 10 reasons why college football is better than the NFL. Don’t even think about disagreeing with me.
1. There’s more pageantry
The band is playing, the student section is rocking, the cheers and chants are choreographed and generally on point.
NFL stadiums don’t really feature any of this, and the most organization we can do at Eagles games is “Fly Eagles Fly,” after a touchdown. The Linc might be loud, sure, but it’s mostly just a bunch of reactionary noise based on what’s happening on the field. It’s a completely different atmosphere in and around college stadiums, an organic celebration of campus pride and sport.
2. The rivalries are more interesting
What’s the best rivalry in the NFL? Cowboys vs. Eagles? Packers vs. Bears?
Those games don’t hold a candle to Auburn/Alabama, Ohio State/Michigan, Oklahoma/Texas, or Army/Navy. We’re talking about competition for recruits, geographic proximity, year-long bragging rights, etc. Dallas is 1,500 miles from Philly, and even though I hate those cucarachas with the passion of 1,000 burning suns, I just don’t feel like that rivalry is as inherently biological as a good college football rivalry.
3. Different offenses, different defenses, different styles
The NFL is pretty straightforward. Teams are gonna work from a 4-3 or 3-4 defensive base, then end up sitting in nickel for about 70% of the game. They’ll throw the ball something like 60% of the time on offense.
In college, it was interesting to watch Paul Johnson’s triple-option, or Hal Mumme’s Air Raid, then observe the spread and influence of those styles over the years. Same goes for the 3-3-5 stack defense and various alternative sets with bandit and spur safeties and whatnot. College is the staging ground for a lot of new and unique ideas that then become absorbed by NFL teams. The read option, Wildcat, RPO – all of that stuff started in college.
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4. September games actually matter
The Eagles can drop a game or two along the way and still finish 12-4 or 13-3 with a first round bye.
This weekend, the loser of Florida and Miami might be out of the playoff picture right away. It would be a shame if Manny Diaz got smoked by the Gators. You would just hate to see that.
But yeah, the stakes are incredible high right off the bat, which pulls you in immediately. NFL season to me requires a few weeks to really get going, and there’s more room for error right from the jump.
5. Games are played on Saturdays
The best part of about college football Saturdays is that I can stay up until 1 a.m. watching Washington State vs. Arizona and not have to worry about going to work the next day. By the time the Seahawks and Rams hit the 3rd quarter on a Sunday night, I’m already half-asleep.
6. Fewer posers
Most fans of college teams at least went to the school or actually grew up in the region where their team plays.
You’ll find more bandwagon Cowboy and Giant fans than, for example, Ohio State or Southern Cal fans. The one exception here is Notre Dame, where legions of people who have never stepped foot in Indiana will claim Irish fandom because they themselves are Irish Catholic or because ND was “on TV all the time,” as if that’s a legitimate reason to support a team. Alabama is on TV a lot, too, but you don’t see people in Philadelphia wearing Crimson Tide jerseys.
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7. Just more of everything
More teams, more storylines, more games to watch. I can flip through a bazillion channels on Saturday and pick out a good game, when on Sunday I’m typically sitting on Red Zone because I don’t really care about the 1 p.m. game between the Cardinals and Niners or the Bills and the Dolphins. Similarly, I’m not getting beat over the head five days in a row with the Antonio Brown helmet story because the college landscape is bigger and there’s just more to talk about in general.
8. Non-conference crossover and intrigue
Every year the Eagles play their divisional opponents twice, then a rotating collection of NFC and AFC teams. You occasionally get the intriguing road game (at Bills, at Chargers, for example), but there’s less variation than at the college level.
For instance, Temple gets Georgia Tech and Maryland at home this year, two Power Five conference schools at the Linc. That’s in addition to their AAC slate, which includes #17 UCF. Then, in the future, the Owls will face these non-conference opponents:
Oklahoma? Miami revenge game? Rutgers? These are intriguing matchups made possible by the variance in conference setup.
9. Traditions
Oklahoma vs. Texas is played every year in Dallas. Florida/Georgia is played in Jacksonville. South Carolina and Clemson play their game at the very end of the year.
I don’t know how practical some of these traditions are in terms of competition, i.e. maybe Texas wouldn’t mind going home and home with OU at some point, but these little quirks and practices don’t exist at the NFL level and are unique to the college game.
10. Huge upsets
Appalachian State vs. Michigan doesn’t happen in the NFL. Neither does James Madison knocking off VPI in Blacksburg, or Troy beating LSU in Baton Rouge.
Some of the early non-conference games make for incredibly compelling TV, even for people with no rooting interest whatsoever. Sure, NFL parity is fantastic, but these moments are really something to behold when they happen.
Anyway, that’s about it. I could go on and on with the list but the bottom line is this:
Now and forever, college football > the NFL.
Time’s yours.
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The post Ten Reasons Why College Football is Better Than the NFL appeared first on Crossing Broad.
Ten Reasons Why College Football is Better Than the NFL published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/
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chaneajoyyy · 4 years
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Hey gwirrrrl! Can you pointe in the direction of Erik Killmonger x plus sized reader fics?
Hey miss mamas!!! I sure can!! 
ERIK X PLUS SIZE!READER FICS (UPDATED)
- how i feel, right now, animal, chains series, purple herbs & gardens, risks & new beginnings series, better with time, let’s play, without a doubt, sizzling pans & slow jams, misinterpretations, visions of gold, out business, come through and chill series, nights, slow burn, a siren’s allure, venom, the one, maybe they’re right, sore loser series, i’ll be alright, spooky cookies & vampire fangs, screams in the night series; knock, knock series; imagination, the cure series, poptart man series, this must be our song, conversation starter, heaven is a place on earth, twins?, say it, i’m there, his princess, his for the night, sugar baby series, authority series, baby shark, lemme try, take our time, say the word, sudden reunions series, memories of you, more ways than one, lemme try it again (that’s my face), not in budget, i would like to see it, pease mama bear, she likes me, guess what, times like these, tell me your secret series, he gets it from me, baby see baby do, see what had happened was, who me?, so relax, three kings of dreams, deck the b-…halls?, do it again, be quiet, you so crazy, how that sound?, you’re so handsome, sit still, leave me aloneee, don’t hide, or maybe, send it to mommy, but i’m sick.., you thought i wouldn’t find out, he’d make you his, ballet baba, ain’t that right?, he wasn’t having that, being honest, that’s all it took?, then stop ignoring me, since you can, but i thougth…, jealous, i won’t tell you again series, hit me, no reply, i’ve alway been, you sure?, no more tummy time, toss ‘em, you done now?, sing it baby, doped up, battle it out, for however long, bath time, bedtime stories, i’m sorry, was that so hard?, i owe you that, whatchu say?, hard headed, it should’ve been you, take our time series, baba’s day, whatever she wants, nope, can’t even look at you, not again, nose wide oen, just a bit longer, come on over to my place, fences & bullriders, right now, mr. telephone man series, designated command strips, one way or another, you ain’t hear that?, autumn leaves & cookie thieves, open up- @supersizemeplz
- all erik fics and headcanons- @nahimjustfeelingit-writes
- all erik fics and headcanons- @eye-raq
- teach me series, when you’re mad series, waffles series, slow ride series, movie night series, let’s talk about sex series, mines, thunderstorm, girl fuck you, eat your breakfast seres (with eat your dinner), secret admirer, amusement park fun, displays of affection, night at the movie theaters, silent hearbeats series, kissing strangers series, worship, loving the way you love it, day drunk, smile for me daddy series, just like you, we goin to hell, breeding time- @thehomierobbstark
- late again, halloween party, imprint, a man in love, v.i.p (includes m/baku), daddy’s home, y’all again?, okay? okay, prisoner of love, family cookout, kiss, what’s cooking good looking, expecting headcanons, food headcanons, crying headcanons, nsfw headcanons, foot fetish series, halloween headcanons, lingerie headcanons, jealous headcanons, kevin’s  heart series, untitled series- @madamslayyy
-carnal stimulation series, next lifetime series, hoe ass erik series, dirty little secrets series, hennything is possible, sunday dinner series (with payback), a.d.i.d.a.s., green goddess, suddenly stevens, beauty is her name, it’s complicated. i’m sorry, the great reveal, neighbors know my name series (part 2 to @hearteyes-for-killmonger‘s story of the same name), the devil speaks xosha, mile high, trap card, act up, let me smell it, up late, i’ll take your man, carry on, dreams & nightmares- @goddessofthundathighs
- headass youtube couple series, fix my crown series, all skate, cutting ties series, #tsrbaewatch,  @apantherinmypastlife
- all erik fics-  @wawakanda-btch
- all fics- @hearteyes-for-killmonger
- say my name series, beg for it, the coat room, charley horse, full court press, house party, boyfriend makeup challenge, gumby, the let out series, disorderly, token, all i wanted for christmas is you, hit the showers, neo, erica; veni, vidi, vici, i will be here, trick or treat, the wakandan boys when they’re sick (includes t’challa and m’baku)- @sonofnjobu
- mine, unravel me series (includes belong to you), i missed you series (inlcudes you a’ight and if they ain’t looking), rated e, on braodway, no average bitch,  @brownsugarcocoabutterwildflowers (scroll for erik killmonger x reader and erik killmonger imagine)
- all tasting mellow fics- @tastingmellow
- laid up series- @pastelastronomy24
- come lay with me, house hunting series, stretch marks, the footbal jerseyy, you sure?- @marvelmaree
- the deal series, nuggest of truth, girlfriend, all i want is you, care for you- @wakandamama
- rated e for extra petty, elbow deep series- @puffmamaa
- she got game, where’s the smoke, s.d.m., from paris with love, where the hoes at? (with t’challa and m’baku), written all over your face, baby bump series (wit cuddle buddy,, and hc: chubby!erik trying old clothes), not in that way, here kitty kitty, computer blue series, chunk series- @ghostfacekill-monger
- all erik fics- @stripper-patrick
- he spills series (with t’chala and m’baku)- @captainsaveasmut
- i’m cleva series, do me baby (part 2 of @killmongersgurl‘s serieserik’s created a monste)-, @killmongerdispussy
- sorry he’s gone, mad issues series, curiosity happy weight- @curls-and-crosses
- nah baby i got you- @inxan-ity (scroll for erik killmonger)
- all fics- @writerbee-ffs
- paragone series- @dynastynoire
- all fics- @eriksjournal
- the sweetest taste series, late night drive- two of a kind series (includes ‘03 bonnie and clyde prequel), beyond the lights series, mad love series- @wakandaforeverwrites
- all erik fics and headcanons- @plussizeappreciationfics
-thanksgiving w/ mr. stevens and the udakus series (with valentine’s gumbo),  @mermaidchansons
- all erik fics- @muse-of-mbaku
- all fics- @eerythingisshaka
- all fics- @artisticestheticreads
- insecure series- @erikslulbaby
- return the favor series- @taint3dvirgin
- a day at the beach with erik, prompt 19 “what’s cooking, good looking”, stay here tonight, greater purpose of chaos, sharing disney movies with erik, 90s disney movies with erik-  @hidden-treasures21
- new year’s surprise series- @thefantasyride
- for the love of money?, my first & his only, the big chop, braid my hair, short staffed, visiting hours- @bakarilennox
***PLEASE HIT ME UP TO ADD YOUR STORIES OR ONES YOU KNOW. THERE ARE MORE I FEEL LIKE I MISSED***
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