#shark attacks tourist

[your-gym-partner]

[dailyworldecho]

[galleryyuhself]

Galleryyuhself - Shark Week?!?

[luminiamore]

STRETCH.

yoga instructer choso x black man-eater reader

a/n: this is heavily inspired by jennifer’s body (・_・ヾ

also 1000 followers WHATT? (つ✧ω✧)つ

no branding included in this fic actually, so yk what that means. part two in the future asf (ﾉ�� з `)ノ

warnings: murder, reader is a succubus who eats boys & the girls she sleeps with (not choso), reader has fangs, big dick choso, he’s shy, he do be eating ass though, sloppy eater, whiny choso, pussydrunk cho, breeding asf, soft dom choso but like (￣ω￣;) subby, he makes reader submit, just nasty, also frens with satosugu

masterlist

man-eater

Noun

man-eater (plural man-eaters)

An animal that attacks and kills humans for food, such as certain tigers or sharks; any animal that consumes human flesh. quotations 

A cannibal; a human that eats other humans. quotations 

(by extension, slang) A seductive dangerous woman, often readily taking and discarding male romantic partners. 

One thing you loved about the 21st century is that there was never a shortage of people. They were everywhere. Crawling around like little ants and fucking rapidly like rabbits. You never ran out of your source of food, your source of life. 

Your species have been around for a long time. You don’t remember how you came to be, but when you first opened your eyes, you were in the center of hot molten rock from the middle of the northwest Pacific Ocean. Tamu Massif, the world’s massive underwater volcano, just 1,600 km east of Japan, was your home. 

Your first feeding, your first kill, happened off the coast on the Seychelles beaches about two days after you were awakened. Your brown body was paling by then, but you didn’t know why. At first, you didn’t know what you were, but you knew you were weak and physically unable to move at some point. While still beautiful, your eyes lacked any life in them. You needed energy.

In your defense, they came to you. The wife did, more specifically. You were under the sun a lot; it was the only thing that could at least give you some life. You suspected she and the buff man with her were here as tourists, a honeymoon vacation spot perhaps. But, even after just being introduced to this world, you knew what you preferred. You were selective.

Her husband wasn’t all that interesting to break, but her... 

She was gorgeous, downright angelic. And you had such a strong desire to fuck her. And weirdly enough, your mouth started savoring at the thought of eating her. 

It seems you hadn’t known just how insatiable you can be, just how powerful you really are. It wasn’t on purpose; you swear it wasn’t. But you know what they say about firsts. She was addicting. How soft she was, how perfect her body fit with yours. She taught you how to feel, how to let go. You were so high on pleasure.

So, you can imagine your distress when you wake up to her unmoving body on top of your naked one. When you shift your eyes to the left, you notice her neck, specifically the missing chunk of it. You lick your lips and immediately grimace at the saltiness. You pushed her body towards your side with a huff. 

At first, you felt quite hysterical. You ran toward the mirror and saw something that caused you to gasp.  

Was that blood?

Red spots were all over your face, and your mouth area was even more adorned. Your locs are messy, cascading down past your hips. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what occurred while you were intoxicated with pleasure. 

Your face is grim as you grasp onto the skin of your forehead, groaning. Flashes start to appear in your mind. A glimpse of her face, body, her pussy. Flashes of you leaning into her neck, flashes of her neck being torn apart, and flashes of her body shaky under your firm hold. 

Oh.

After about ten seconds had passed of your staring in the mirror, you accepted that this woman was now dead. You had killed her. 

But.. you weren’t overwhelmed by dread. Not upset or guilty that you completely depleted this woman’s life force. A strong feeling coursed through every nook and cranny in your veins, and you felt rejuvenated. The eye bags that had formed beneath your wispy eyelashes were absent, you could tell that much despite the amount of blood splattered on your face.

You had a liking for this feeling. Your strength was apparent, and your skin was brighter and clearer. You experienced such a state of euphoria. And well, you would die if you didn’t get more. Literally and figuratively.

You didn’t make an effort to conceal the body; you felt no need to. You felt compelled to go somewhere, but when you looked in that direction, all you could see was the moving water. You escaped into the ocean at the exact moment, moving as fast as you could away from the small island and following the intense pressure calling out to you.

Since that incident, you’ve stayed in Japan. A black woman with unnatural beauty stalked through the night, undeniably being the center of attention. You were the talk of everywhere you went; people often compared you to a witch, a vampire was the funniest one you’ve heard. You were unusual and feared a little by the public. Although you were beautiful, every step you took was infused with a sense of danger and mystery. Death, even. 

It’s common for people who left with you to never be seen again. In the event that they were, they weren’t the same. People had this inexhaustible attraction towards you. They wanted to know more, they tried to discover the secrets you held. But unless you choose them, all people could potentially get out of you was a meaningless glance.

The more you kill, the stronger you become. You became aware of this shortly after your second kill, and you could soon hold off on feeding for weeks if you needed to. Though you’ve grown to realize that you’re superior to a particular breed, you were never the type to go crazy with power. Many of your species, you could tell, were famous and had the most influence on the public. 

Take the city’s most well-known billionaires, such as Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo. Their ownership of many corporations and businesses allowed them to have multiple connections with dangerous parts of Japan, such as the Yakuza. However, they also contribute significant amounts of income to the city annually. Their support of the most popular things in the population was indisputable, making it impossible not to like them. It wasn’t because they wanted to; they weren’t that generous, but because they loved power. 

Passing them on your stroll, you could tell they were similar to you. Their scent was unlike that of humans, and their energy and absolute pheromones were ridiculous. They were looking for prey that night, you could tell by how potent it was. And perhaps if you were human, you would have fallen for their charm when they called out for you. 

They had plans to make you their meal for the night, but unfortunately, their hypnotic effect on humans didn’t work on you. That’s when they realized that you were like them, and well, they were both amused. 

“Aw, how cute,”

“Bet you would’ve tasted real good too.”

To this day, you don’t know if Suguru was talking about eating you or your pussy. Even so, you became a close friend of the pair from that moment forward. There were days when they would pop up to your apartment unannounced and grace you with their antics. It was more of a domestic setting, not sexual, but they enjoyed being around someone who deeply understood them. 

Today was one of those days. Your peaceful nap ended when they entered your bedroom and plopped down on your bed, discussing the last feeding they had. Satoru’s voice reaches an enthusiastic pitch,

“She was so bendy, Suguru! She bent over backwards, and she was still taking my dick,” 

The long-haired man shifts his eyes carelessly towards his best friend, who is resting on your thighs and intensely focused on something on his phone. You were oblivious to the words spewed out by Satoru, fighting against the sleep you had gotten before they arrived. The latter raises a brow,

“Hmm,”

“She told me she takes something called yoga classes? It’s a shame she’s dead now, she was fu- Wait! Hey, Y/n?”

Your response is a hum as he shifts his head to your face and speaks with a sly smile on his lips,

“Do you take yoga classes?” 

You were not very fond of modern activities, so you rarely indulged in them. You rarely attempt to learn about human life and what they do for fun or work due to that knowledge. Their values never weighed down on you, and as a result, you lived a peaceful life. When you glanced down at piercing ice eyes, the confusion was evident on your face, 

“What’s..yoga?”

Suguru gave a response instead, knowing that Satoru would give you a misleading description of the exercise, 

“It’s just an activity humans do to calm the mind and stretch the body.”

“I see. Does it bring pleasure?”

“Maybe, they seem to be very satisfied afterwards.”

You twist your head in thought, interesting. Satoru pokes at your shoulder, and when you glance down, he shows you his phone screen. Plentiful pictures of women in various positions, very flexible..positions. Was she holding herself up on her forearms?

“Where can I find this? I’d like to.. learn.” Your own words caused you to startle yourself, and now you’re completely awake. 

Since when? 

You hear a breathy laugh coming from beneath you. “Oh yeah? Didn’t peg you as the type to like playing with your food.” His fingers move to find the nearest yoga studio by your building, despite his taunting, and he feels internally happy when he discovers it’s one he knows. 

You flick his head, giggling while he grunts a bit. “It’s interesting. I didn’t know the body could shape itself like that.” In all honesty, he presented you with some pictures that made you grimace a little. 

“There’s a place called Kamo’s Zen Sanctuary a few blocks from here. Of course, Suguru and I are friends with the owner.”

The mentioned man hums in assurance, 

“We can send a car to take you tomorrow afternoon if you’re up for it.” He wiggles his brows as he waits for your response.

As always, they kept their word without fail. Before the car arrived the next day, a large package was delivered to your door with a flimsy note that said, ‘You’re welcome.’ 

It’s probable that you only needed one yoga set, but your friends wanted to give you a wide array of choices to pick from. Ultimately, you opted for a lightweight black set. When you looked in the mirror, you really saw how the clothing accentuated your body, especially your ass. Oh, you liked this.

Stopping outside the studio, your mind suddenly became well aware that you didn’t know how human establishments operated. You took pleasure in the decorative pieces that this place had. Cold air, a Buddha statue spilling water steadily in a bowl, and soothing violin music immediately welcomed you upon arrival. 

Despite not being familiar with the environment, you still entered it with grace. You would have left if it weren’t for the tall, handsome gentleman who sneaked up on you from behind. His silent demeanor made it impossible to hear him, and when you saw his face, you indeed weren’t disappointed.

“Do you need help, miss?”

Smooth was how his words came across. When you faced him, his face was smooth, too. Your body vibrated, your fingertips were slightly twitching, and your mind was reeling in the fact that you were suddenly very, very hungry. Although it’s been a week since you last had anything to eat, you’ve already found your next prey. 

Him. The quite pale man with a pair of beautiful, solemn eyes. The dark line across his face is a perfect fit for him, and it’s hard not to notice. His plum lips are almost puckered, but they look so soft you want to sink your teeth into them. You want him.

You eye his exposed biceps in the black shirt clinging onto his pale skin, “Yes, I want to learn yoga. How can I?”   

Even as his ears flush, he maintains a steady tone and unbothered expression when addressing you, barely making eye contact, “I can get you started with that. My name is Choso. I’m an instructor here. Come with me, miss.”

You nodded without reason because the man had already turned and started walking to a different room. You’re staring at him, more so the way his muscles ripple with every step he takes. There’s an intangible desire on your part to fuck this man, bite every inch of his body until he was withering in pleasure. 

Choso seemed shy, but you liked that he was nervous and fidgety around you as you faced him in a larger room with a mirror covering both ends. There were no lights on, only candles surrounding the black walls. The echo from the fish swimming in the small pond could be heard throughout the space. 

His back could be seen through the clear glass. As you looked around, you also noticed red mats and..blocks? This place was strange. You lick your lips when he speaks again, 

“This is where we do the practice. I sense that you’re new to this. Do you want to start with a small stretch first?” His hand reaches behind him to pick up a thin mat, his low purple eyes flickering between the object and you. 

“Of course, Choso.”

Choso has a sweet scent, almost like a bakery. The moment you walked inside, his scent infiltrated your nostrils. The sheer proximity of his body when he guided you into what he said was the downward dog position made you feel like you were floating. You felt hot, even on fire, when he touched you. The fabric you wore was so tightly held onto your body that it felt like he was touching your bare skin.

He was exerting pressure on your lower thighs, making them conform to the position. When you glanced in the mirror, he seemed so focused on what he was doing. You swear your pussy had a heartbeat. His gaze catches yours,

“Head down, miss.”

You listen wordlessly, your locs making small thumping sounds when they hit the red surface. Maybe Choso could feel the heat and craving radiating off of your body. Maybe he couldn’t. It’s impossible to read his thoughts, no matter which way you look at it. His face remains blank after he says ‘good job’ for maintaining the position after a minute. If he can feel your body heating up like you can, his expression doesn’t make it known. 

His body, however, does. More so, how red he gets, as if he’s heating up too as if he’s experiencing the same shit you are. Could he be?

Choso tells you about the next position he’s going to put you in,

“You’re a little tense on your outer hips, so we’re gonna do something called the Pigeon pose.”

You’re almost about to ask, ‘What’s that?’ but he shows you before you can even part your lips. Your right leg is flat against the floor, twisted in front of you almost perfectly, while your left leg elongates towards the back. Choso observes the difficulty of your arms in holding you up, so he goes in front of you to help. The firmness of his hands on your hips reflects his strength, especially when he presses down slightly to stretch the area. 

“It’s okay. Your legs are supporting you. You can relax a bit.” Can you, though? With the way, he’s pressing on an area that’s suddenly very sore to you. His voice is scratching some primal part of your brain. You think it’s impossible.

“Am I supposed to be doing something while in this position?” You intentionally lower your voice to make him look at you. He does, just not in the way you want. That stupid, blank expression is still on his face. You rub your lower body on the mat, shivering a little as it barely touches your clit through the fabric.

“You’re supposed to breathe. Just be.” He speaks softly against your face. You were fond of his closeness, the sensation of his breath being directly on your skin. 

“When will this feel pleasurable?” You exhale. You honestly weren’t seeing any interest in human activities again. You were only getting a slight burn on your legs, and that was due to the grip Choso still had on you.

You don’t know what it is you said, but you watch Choso intensely. You can see his eyes widen for a split second before returning to their original state.

“Pleasurable? You came here.. for pleasure?” 

There was a slight hiccup in his voice at the end of his question. You got him, you think. It shouldn’t be much to get him under you now. He taps his long fingers on your hip twice twice in an attempt to make you shift to the other leg, causing you to jump. 

A wince escapes your lips as he releases his grip on you, “I hear that this practice can give that. Is it true?”

You finally caught Choso’s eye on you. In fact, his gaze remains on you even after he observes your body shift its position. You believe that you like his eyes on you. He lowers himself to your level to help you still your body.

“I suppose it depends on what kind of pleasure you’re looking for, miss.”

You hum softly as you breathe him in once more today when his palms rest against you once again. What did he mean by that?

You reply, but your gaze never leaves his, “What kind of pleasure can you give me, Choso?” 

Choso was quiet, reserved from the public, and honestly tried his best to avoid any eye contact with you during your entire time in his studio. But he only has so much self-control, as did you. The only conversation was a series of intense squelching sounds as Choso sucked on your pink bud obscenely. 

“Oh fuck- Just like that, Cho!”

He moaned fervently against your brown lips, pulling your hips against his face and keeping your cheeks apart with his large grip. You were on your knees, back shaped into a perfect arch. He was not letting go, squeezing his tongue down your wet pussy lips. Your body shakes as his tongue licks a stripe through your folds, circles all over your puckered hole, and drool slips onto the thin mat.

“Ah-!”

Your cries made Choso even more red in the ears. He thought he was pretty dull, not exciting or engaging to talk to. He didn’t pay much attention to his looks, girls always found him too.. weird. It wasn’t something he expected to happen on his day. He knew who you were before you came in, Satoru had the pleasure of letting him know you were on your way. But the minute you came into his place of work, he found it very hard to resist you. That’s why he didn’t make any eye contact. 

The truth is, Choso was deeply attracted to you and found it terrifying. 

Choso’s pretty head was puzzled by the fact that he was responsible for the angelic sounds that emerged from your plump lips. He couldn’t fathom that he was on his knees licking the most sensitive parts of your body. But, he welcomed it, letting himself sink into the essence of you with a feeling of overwhelming desperation. 

“Want more. Come on, miss. Give m-me more, please.”

How much more can you give him? He already has his face deep inside of you. You understand what he is trying to say when he inserts two fingers into your wet mound, dragging them in and out and carefully grazing the spongy spot that makes you thrash around. You immediately clench at the intrusion, feeling the overwhelming pleasure burn in the pit of your stomach. 

Choso is eager to pay attention to all parts of you but doesn’t know where to focus. Every part of you tastes so celestial, he wanted you to give him everything at the same time. His finger-fucking is swift, and your mind is entirely absent when the man pushes his tongue into and out of your ass simultaneously. Choso was so turned on that his precum was making a stain on his shorts from how much he was leaking.

His moans vibrated against your lower lips, and you swore in all your existence that you had never been eaten so nasty like this. He was going to make you cum so fast that you couldn’t even be mad about it.

He can feel it. The fatness of your pussy is pressing against Choso’s two big fingers, forcing him to use more strength to maintain his rapid pace. Your wetness creates a beautiful clear puddle under his attack, and he can feel it. Could you also do that on his dick? Milk his cock over and over and over again until he couldn’t cum anymore? Choso has been an atheist his entire life, but he almost prayed for this one favor.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ouuu fuck! I’m g-gonna-”

The man doesn’t respond at first, only presses into your G-spot harder and more forcefully, as if he has a point to prove. He circles at your clit, wrapping the twitching bud around his lips, and sucks hard. What does it for you is the drunk whispers vibrating against your core of ‘Please, give it to me. Just cum. Fuck, it’s so wet.’

Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the carpeted floor in front of you, and your mouth releases pornographic moaning as cream pours out of you and onto his waiting tongue. Choso is clamoring for your taste, and as a result, he moans out with you. You have a strong desire for him, but for some inexplicable reason, your body is unwilling to eat him. Instead, you never wanted to fuck a person so badly in your life. 

Choso’s close proximity makes him ignore your little whimpers while rubbing his blushing, leaking tip up and down your sloppy cunt. When did he even pull his dick out? 

“Bet it’s so w-warm inside. Ah-” When his flushed tip accidentally slips in, and he gets a taste of the warmth you bring, his breathy voice cracks. You’re whining now. Pushing back on Choso, sucking his wide cock in your greedy hole, feeling impatient to force him down far enough to rip your pussy. 

Choso has the most beautiful moans you’ve ever heard. His voice is deep, but his tone gets so high in pitch when he’s like this. It’s so whiny it makes you cream. Literally. His voice cracks, just like his resolve does when you slide all 7.8 inches of him in so that your hips are flush against his pelvis. The feeling of his dick inside of you is so good that you’re so close to begging.

He thought he could have some self-control, but he barely kept it together when he was just eating you out. Your drooling pussy convulsing and contracting against Choso, against his cock, is a sign that his soul has reached a part of heaven. He couldn’t stop himself, really. He couldn’t do anything but relentlessly fuck you at an inhuman pace. 

“So good. So good. Pussy’s so fucking-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan when he witnesses your soft brown cheeks being spread apart for him, revealing a magnificent view of your pussy being stretched beyond their limits. Giving him a beautiful view of your messy pussy creaming the more his dick repeatedly punches your g-spot again and again and again.

You’re wailing. You’re trying to find something to hold onto that can bring your mind back to reality. Choso makes it so hard. He is becoming more and more clingy to your liquids, and his hips are vibrating violently against yours, making you believe he might be bruising your cervix. You love it. You love every speck of pleasure flowing and rippling through your body. You love everything he’s giving your body at this moment.

“I-I know what you- Oh fuck. W-what you are,”

Huh?

The thought is almost pushed out of your head when he angles his hips to get deeper inside of you. Wet and dirty sounds of his balls hitting your clit are filling the air of the stretch room. Choso is rambling now. Your pretty pussy’s attempt to milk his cock until there was nothing is making him feel delirious. It just feels so good, so safe, so wet. God, you were so fucking wet for him. He continues his fucked out declaration,

“A-And I can tell y-you don’t like c-commitment, but please. Please let me k-keep you satisfied for all e-eternity.” His rough and insatiable pounding sends your mind to distant places while he pleads. 

With whatever coherent part of your brain is still there, you cower away at the proposition. Shaking your head rapidly in a ‘no’ motion. His harsh thrusts are practically felt in your womb, pushing your hips away when you scramble to grab something stable to hold you on the floor.

Of course, Choso doesn’t let you run away like that. He quickly brings your waist back against him, making sure that his cock is nestled in the deepest parts of your warmth for a moment before starting to thrust again. You’re forced to take it all, and he doesn’t even need to say a word to prevent you from trying that shit again.

Still, you whimper out,

“Chooo baby, I can’t- Ahhh! Can’t l-let you do that.”

Choso only frowns at the evident lie on your lips and pushes your entire body harder onto the mat. A loud gasp escapes your lips when you unexpectedly squirt all over the thin object due to the sudden pressure you feel on your cervix. He was so deep.

Choso doesn’t slow down; he only moans with staggering moans when your pussy sprays its juices on him. In fact, he goes faster. 

“P-Please, miss. I can make you feel this g-good whenever you want. I can- Fuckk. I promise I c-can always fuck you deep like t-this. I’ll worship you. I’d do anything you- anything you ask, just please. L-Let me.” 

It seems that Choso understood precisely what you needed, a bit of prodding and persuading. He’s sure that if someone happens to walk into the lobby, they’ll hear exactly what’s going on due to the loud squelching you both are making. But why does he want that? Why does he want everyone to know that he is the one making you cry out so pretty as if he were your god? Despite your brief resolve, you give the handsome man exactly what he asks. You.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes! M’all yours, Cho! M’cumming- Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m-”

The sounds you both made at the same time were too much for your lovemaking to drown out. With your dam breaking, your pussy twitching open and closed, and your tight pussy covering his heavy cock with splashes of clear liquid and your sweet, sweet cream, Choso gets a taste of heaven. He cums with you. His hand grips the sides of your hips so hard, even through your dark skin, that it might leave bruises. Your perfect pussy squeezing a heavy load out of the man so much that he was shaking when he felt it overfill your cunt. Fuck, you’re too much. 

Heavy breathing and a light pap sound coming from his cum dripping out of your poor pussy could barely be heard by both of you. Choso was in such a headspace that his mind needed to take a breather to gather what the fuck he was going to say to you in a few minutes, his dick softening inside you. You were feeling the after-effects of being fucked so good, buzzing in your right ear, spasming on a cock that’s still buried deep inside of you, and aches on your lower body.

You start to pull off of him, thinking that’s what he wants, but he immediately grabs your hips and keeps you still, still not getting over the euphoric feeling of your pussy on him. Choso realizes something, and at this moment, he feels the most embarrassed he has ever felt. He managed to get a girl's commitment without even knowing her name. 

“Um.. miss?”

You barely let out a whisper, “Yes, Cho?”

“… What’s your name?”

There’s a beat of silence. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Choso is pleading that you won’t hate him.

His thoughts were disrupted by a melodic laugh and a honey voice, “It’s Y/n, cutie.” 

Y/n? He finds that name so.. pretty. Almost as pretty as your body. Almost as pretty as the sight of your tight pussy creaming up and- 

Well, now he’s hard again. You won’t mind if he pleases you a little more, right? After all, he made a promise, and Choso is never known for breaking his promises.

tags🏷️:: @hatake05

tags🏷️:: @thickbihhwitdagapp

[petnews2day]

Astonishing moment 12ft hammerhead is attacked by Bahamas pup as tourists watch on

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/nWgS2

Astonishing moment 12ft hammerhead is attacked by Bahamas pup as tourists watch on

Footage of the unexpected encounter was captured by a tourist on a boat Tourists first saw the hammerhead swim under the bow, before the dog leapt in This is the astonishing moment a shark was attacked by a dog which fearlessly dived into the sea in front of screaming tourists on a Bahamas boat trip. Fearing […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/nWgS2 #DogNews #Shark, #12Ft, #Astonishing, #Attacked, #Bahamas, #Dog, #Hammerhead, #Moment, #On8217, #Pup, #Tourists, #V, #Watch

[honesty-my-policy]

i'm so infuriated

I'm not Jewish and I'm so infuriated at the world.

I can't imagine how it must feel to be Jewish. Especially as this entire ordeal has made me dive more into educating myself about Jewish history and how the world truly has always blamed everything on the Jews.

How is everything their fault?

Even the crucifixion of Christ has been blamed on the Jews when it was a Roman tradition?

Martin Luther who is known as one of the original reformers in Christianity's history wrote a book called "On the Jews and Their Lies". In which he advocated for burning down synagogues, Jewish homes and if that didn't work, Jewish people!

Apparently, somehow, Jews caused the Black Death despite the fact that the most predominant modern theory is that due to climate change in Asia, rodents began to flee the dried out grasslands to more populated areas which ended up spreading the infected fleas they carried, thus spreading the disease. The fleas infected not just rats but ground rodents in general, so once the rats migrated the fleas could jump to any ground rodent and the infection spread.

Some of the craziest modern stuff though has come mostly from the Middle East (i wonder why)...

Apparently, Israel has remote control sharks that can attack Egyptian civilians and tourists, at least that's what a Governor of Egypt things. source

According to a fundamentalist group of Muslims called the Wahhabis, the Jews have a secret ally they've been conspiring with... the Gharqad tree. A tree, they call it the Jew tree. source Which is identified as either nitre bushes or Lycium which is part of the nightshade family, it's such a thing that the TREE WIKI PAGE TALKS MORE ABOUT THAT THAN THE TREE ITSELF source

Palestine once said that Israel was breeding super rats that could grow twice the size of a normal rat - just to chase Arabs out of Jerusalem, note this was in like 2008, where are these super rats NOW? source

The Nation of Islam (an organization) accused Jews of tricking people into thinking slavery exists??????? Sorry, "still" exists. This was originally in 1996, the gall this motherfucker had in 1996 to say "Where is the proof?" - oh, his name is Louis Farrakhan btw and there is an entire section dedicated to him on the anti-slavery website iabolish.org - his page

Also, Pokémon is a Zionist conspiracy plot to overthrow Saddam Hussein, at least, in 2001 that was what some Iraqi security personal reported. source

listen... I won't lie. I love a good conspiracy theory because to be honest, the amount I trust my government or anyone in authority is so small that just about anything could come out as true and I'd be so un-phased.

but blaming the Jews for everything when they make up an estimated 0.2% of the population versus say the 23% that is Muslim? Which there are approximately 50 Muslim-Majority countries in the world, though depending on sources the exact number differs.

If anything Christianity (32%) and the unaffiliated (16.3%) should be eyed at. Also, how come no one ever gives the folk religion people a hard time? Not that anyone deserves to be given a hard time as long as they aren't hurting anyone, it just boggles my mind to be honest.

sources for numbers cited came from this website: https://worldpopulationreview.com/

anyway, woke up this morning and just wanted to say this cause I'm mad and I want to show my support but also call out stupid people. I'm here to fight for Israel and the Jews, fuck off pro-palestine simps.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Who would like to own a property that's name literally translates to "Fart?" The late owner was a retired, decorated Viet Nam navy veteran from Brooklyn, NYC, who fell in love with the Terlingua, TX Ghost Town. The property is up for sale for $1.3M.

Every year he had a fundraiser to benefit the Fire Department and the EMS, called The Rocket Fuel Party.

Inside the fence is a full-size conning tower of a submarine, a replica of a sailing ship, and a small Statue of Liberty that lights up at night.

The owner's name was Jimmy and he began building a fleet.

He also built a propane-powered volcano and tiki bar to complete the south seas feel.

The submarine USS Thresher (SSN-593) was the lead boat of her class of nuclear-powered attack submarines in the United States Navy. She was the U.S. Navy's second submarine to be named after the thresher shark. On 10 April 1963, Thresher sank during deep-diving tests about 350 km (220 mi) east of Cape Cod, Massachusetts, killing all 129 crew and shipyard personnel aboard.

That's most of the history of Passing Wind.

The property has fallen into disrepair and needs a new owner to bring it back to life. This is the closest structure that I can see that looks like it was the tiki bar.

Here's the trailer Jimmy must've lived in. It looks to be in good shape from the outside.

And, there's also this building.

The land is 3.44 acres. I guess the new owner would have to be interested in military history enough to want to invest in making an attraction dedicated to it. I have no idea if this would be a tourist destination.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/Highway-170-170-Terlingua-TX-79852/2054487857_zpid/?

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Taming the Tiger Shark

The tiger shark (Galeocerdo cuvier) is a common sight for divers, fishermen, and tourists in the tropical waters of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. They are often found around sea grass fields or coral reefs, and tend to prefer warm, shallower waters near the coastline or surrounding atolls and islands. The northern end of their range extends up to the northern borders of the United States and China, while their southern range reaches down to Brazil, Madagascar, and the eastern coast of Australia.

While they're slightly smaller than great whites, G. cuvier is still one of the largest carnivores in the ocean. Adults can grow up to 4.7 m (15 ft 5 in) long and weigh between 300 and 900 kg (700 and 2,000 lb). Females tend to be larger than males, but the two sexes are otherwise indistinguishable. Individuals are typically bluish gray or green, with a white or light yellow underbelly; this provides them with camouflage, as fish swimming overhead or below are unable to pick out the shark's silhouette against the dark or light background, respectively.

As an apex predator, G. cuvier has few predators of its own. Juvenile tiger sharks will often fall prey to other sharks, including adults of their own species. Orcas are also occasionally known to prey on tiger sharks, but these occurrences are rare. In their own food chain, G. cuvier has a large appetite and will eat almost anything. Coral reef fish are a common target, though their speed and small size makes them harder to catch. More often tiger sharks will prey on cephalopods, crustaceans, sea snakes, turtles, sea birds, and a host of marine mammals like dolphins, dugongs, sea lions, and young, injured, or dead whales. Inadvertently, tiger sharks will also consume garbage such as bottles tires, earning them the nickname 'The Garbage Can of the Ocean'.

Tiger sharks are primarily active at night. Contrary to other sharks, G. cuvier has excellent eyesight, as well as a keen sense of smell. In addition, tiger sharks have two special sensory organs. The lateral line extends down the length of the body and can detect minute vibrations in the water. Ampullae of Lorenzini are small electroreceptors located on the snout; these detect the weak electrical impulses generated by prey. All these features make it easy for tiger sharks to find a meal, and once located their body shape allows them to put on a burst of speed and make quick turns to catch their target. Most of the time, this hunting practice is done alone, but occasionally groups of tiger sharks will gather to scavenge a large carcass or for the mating season.

Male tiger sharks mate every year, while females only reproduce every three years. Breeding seasons differ based on location; in the Northern Hemisphere mating occurs between March and May, while in the Southern Hemisphere it's between November and January. During this time, dozens or even hundreds of sharks may gather to find mates. Females carry their young for up to 16 months, at which time they give live birth. Tiger sharks are ovoviviparous, meaning that eggs are fertilised and hatch inside the mother; this species is also unique in that they employ a technique called embryotrophy, in which young gestate in sacks which are filled with an embryonic fluid. A single litter of tiger sharks may contain between 10 to 80 pups, and each one may live up to 12 years in the wild.

Conservation status: The IUCN has classified the tiger shark as Near Threatened. While exact numbers are unclear, a great many tiger sharks are killed each year for their skin, fins, and liver. This species also has a reputation for vicious attacks, and while they can be aggressive when threatened, only a handful of shark attacks occur each year.

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Photos

Neil Hammerschlag

Brian Skerry

David Snyder

[murderbirds]

So, I had a funny dream last night and I'm convinced I accessed an alternative universe where Gotham got a sequel series. I think this series followed Barbara Gordon as the protagonist as a pre teen with Jim still being a main character along with Penguin, Riddler and Batman, but Barbara kean got another L and was diminished as a side roll akin to Lucius Fox.

So in my dream/episode Barbara and her little gang (something akin to stranger things, I think they were all supposed to be named character, Dick Grayson was definitely one of them, but I cannot remember who else) were researching the recent attacks towards tourists around Gotham bay which were claimed to have been done to a shark which should have been impossible. Jim tells Barbara to stay in safety, which appears to happen often as does she disobeying him. It is revealed that kingshark is behind this because bullsharks actually use these rivers, but the waters are so dirty these bullsharks only come to die, so Barbara and her gang work with Batman to try and clean the river in Gotham.

Meanwhile, Oswald is furious because apparently someone decided to make a movie based on the people of Gotham and both didn't ask his permission, and are treating his character in a very unwelcoming light, so Oswald starts threatening the people behind it, only to have the actor playing mr. Freeze who is actually Arnold shwarzsenegger to confront him which only pisses him off more. So Oswald keeps trying to sabotage the movie with his goons, and it keeps on failing, but as he does he starts talking to Arnold and growing close to him to the point where he actually becomes supportive of the movie, only for a bomb to explode in the studio, Arnold gets injured and Oswald starts crying as his very dramatic self while cradling Arnold's body in his arms who keeps on trying to tell him he is fine. He was bleeding quite a lot though so I don't know if he was actually fine. Oswald promises to get revenge on whoever did this, only for Victor Zsasz, who is his bodyguard, to tell him that it was probably one of his own goons carrying out his order to end that stupid movie no matter who you had to kill or blow up. Oswald yells out in frustrations. It is then revealed that it was, in fact, not one of Oswald's goons, but rather Riddler who blew up the studio because he was getting jealous of how close Oswald and Arnold are getting. In this version, both Penguin and Riddler have a crush on each other, but Penguin refuses to speak up because of their past and Riddler is afraid Oswald doesn't love him anymore/ is too upset about what happened in their past to date him, so he wishes to defeat and kill the Batman specifically so that he can give Oswald his head and he will finally forgive him for his actions in the past.

[frankendykes-monster]

Countdown to Halloween 2024 ranked

54. The Willies (1990)

53. Hell High (1987)

52. Face of The Screaming Werewolf (1964)

51. Terrifier (2016)

50. The Last Halloween (1991)

49. Cathy's Curse (1977)

48. The Last Shark (1981)

47. Godzilla × Kong: The New Empire (2024)

46. Creepozoids (1987)

45. The Horror of Frankenstein (1970)

44. Frankenstein's Castle of Freaks (1974)

43. Man Beast (1956)

42. Tourist Trap (1979)

41. Daughter of Dr. Jekyll (1957)

40. Fiend (1980)

39. Vampyros Lesbos (1971)

38. Devil Girl From Mars (1954)

37. Halloween Hall o' Fame (1977)

36. Nightmare (1981)

35. The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra (2001)

34. Peeping Tom (1960)

33. Violent Shit (1989)

32. Invaders From Mars (1986)

31. Eggshells (1969)

30. Night of The Ghouls (1959)

29. Scream, Blacula, Scream (1973)

28. The Strange World of Planet X (1958)

27. The Colossus of New York (1958)

26. The Scooby-Doo Project (1999)

25. Night of The Living Doo (2001)

24. Scooby-Doo! and The Reluctant Werewolf (1988)

23. The Great Bear Scare (1983)

22. The Wasp Woman (1995)

21. The Cyclops (1957)

20. Frankenstein and The Monster from Hell (1974)

19. The Tingler (1959)

18. The Boogey Man (1980)

17. The Dragon Lives Again (1977)

16. Quatermass and The Pit (1967)

15. The Brain That Wouldn't Die (1962)

14. Mad Love (1935)

13. The Alien Factor (1978)

12. The Walking Dead (1935)

11. Dr. Caligari (1989)

10. The Deadly Spawn (1983)

9. Invaders From Mars (1953)

8. Alucarda (1977)

7. Uzumaki (2024)

6. Sole Survivor (1984)

5. Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979)

4. Shock Waves (1977)

3. Frankenhooker (1990)

2. Invasion of The Body Snatchers (1978)

1. Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1974)

What a productive year. October lasts all of 30 seconds which is why I have to start watching these in July if I want to make any decent headway (31 films is not enough). I desperately tried to make this a year of "have not seens" after last year's top spots being flooded with films I already loved; we mostly did it, mostly. Another top heavy year with relatively few abysmal entries, let's get started.

The Willies is the grand shitshow for this year. It feels like it's an evolutionary precursor to something like Goosebumps or Are You Afraid of The Dark?, but it mostly plays to gross out rather than scares. I don't normally care for anthology horror films to begin so to start off a film with brief segments like a woman eating a deep fried rat or a little white dog being microwave exploded and then doing extended stories on monsters hiding in the school bathroom does not do it for me. The most minimal points possible for some decent lighting and special effects but they are not enough by any means to make this worth watching. Stay away.

Onto the 1980's horror: Hell High is what happens when a film crew asks "what if we put a woman into a situation and didn't stop". I want to call it misogynistic torture porn, but I don't want to devalue that phrase for when I use it for a film later on here, but suffice to say a woman is tortured. Emotionally. For very little reason. Universal was right to block The Last Shark from US theatrical distribution. Not because it's a very blatant Jaws ripoff and they wanted to protect their copyright, but because it's abysmal and nobody should have to pay money to see this. I think the stock footage of sharks juxtaposed with the unmoving props between shots is funny, and some of the soundtrack elevates the experience, like the high shrill drones when the shark attacks a helicopter. Creepozoids is an odd one because 1987 was a bit late for a Mad Max/Escape from New York/Alien knockoff but also too early for some Full Moon tier/softcore porn adjacent 1990's production, so it loses out on both fronts. Fiend I'm struggling to even recall, I feel like Don Dohler had one movie in him (see: his plethora of alien invasion films) and him trying to branch out did him no favors. Nightmare is one I want to enjoy because it's beautifully shot but I feel like I've seen one too many slasher adjacent films at this point that include plot points like the killer having a troubled relationship with his mother or him moonlighting as a regular guy (still better than Pieces mind you). Same with Violent Shit. I feel like my tastes are pretty attuned to films that are just gore effects showcases but this one doesn't have any zany concepts to justify or compliment it, so it just falls flat.

The Boogey Man belongs to that tirade of Halloween knockoffs that flooded theaters up till about 1984 or so, but it puts in some extra effort like having a ghost be the main antagonist and a symbolic interest in mirrors, which is much more than could be asked of films like Terror Train which came out the same year. Dr. Caligari is the obligatory "this is what Tim Burton thinks he's doing" film of this year; its sets and its performances are perfectly otherworldly to a humorous degree. It's something of a quasi-sequel to the 1920 film but its relationship with logic is attuned to such a frequency that it's not a hindrance. Very hard to objectively quantify, you're either in the target audience or you aren't, so of all films here take its tier placement the least seriously. The Deadly Spawn is such a gloriously gross film. The house it's shot in isn't supposed to be disgusting on purpose, it's just one of those century's old buildings where I feel like I'd revulse if I had to touch any surface, and that's before fleshy alien monsters break in and start shredding people to bits. Sole Survivor is one of those magical "missing link" horror films, we've finally found what comes between Carnival of Souls and Final Destination. The actual scares in this film are incredibly minimal as it prioritizes atmosphere that balances between comfort and unease, something incredibly rare for films of virtually any genre. Don't go in expecting ghosts and you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Taking a brief-ish detour to the 1960's, Face of The Screaming Werewolf is one of those films I'm more angry at than anything because it's one of those films that's just the combined stray footage of multiple previous films. Rare for these to be produced in the western market (most of the examples I think of are from (south)east Asia) but it's infuriating nonetheless to see something only to discover it's a worse version of multiple better things you could be seeing. Peeping Tom is our "most overrated" entry winner, I don't know why so many people applaud this one, I feel like barely anything of substance happens to such a degree that any ounce of suspense you could draw from this just disappears, and what a shame with the concept at play here that feels as if it would take another decade for everyone else to catch up. Eggshells is the directorial debut of Tobe Hooper and while cohesive narrative is virtually nonexistent here, the amount of experimental editing keeps this going throughout the entire runtime, you can definitely see where The Texas Chainsaw Massacre came from down the line. I feel like I'm somewhat disappointed with Quatermass and The Pit (not sure what "The Pit" refers to now that I think of it) mostly becasue the first two Quatermass films are among the best 1950's science fiction films. All three are theatrical remakes of television mini-series and that's most felt here with how so much of the film takes place in the single location of an unearthed Martian ship in the heart of London. I do love that we have a science fiction film positing that humans are partly the genetic ancestors of aliens prior to people taking that seriously with books like Chariot of The Gods. The Brain That Wouldn't Die is magical, sometimes those oft hated 1950's/1960's science fiction films have something to give back to the rest of us. Here it's a man so obsessed with his own work that he sees his wife's death as an opportunity to try and kill other women so that he can use their bodies as grounds to bring her back. Which sounds like something else I watched...

...said film being Frankenhooker, which has largely the same plot but now functions as a dark comedy. God. I hate so much that the capitalist enclosure on the production and distribution of film prevented us from getting so much more from Frank Henenlotter. The man is one of the best to ever direct horror, and anyone who thinks this film or any of his other work are "bad movies" just flat out do not know what they're talking about. I think compared to Basket Case and Brain Damage however, Frankenhooker is the one that "keeps giving". You think you've seen everything the film has to offer and then something like a hotel room full of women combusts as they succumb to the effects of exploding crack or Elizabeth (the titular character) has her head punched back and starts spewing smoke and electricity everywhere. Film is a magical medium of art.

Terrifier is what I held onto "misogynistic torture porn" for. No narrative, no character work, just opportunities to show Art the Clown dismember and murder women in revolting ways. It's one of those films that vindicates everyone that doesn't like this genre and makes me wonder what I'm doing sitting side by side with people that like this shit. I think Art cutting off a woman's breasts and scalp and attaching them to his nude body to disguise himself as another prior female victim of his is when my mouth went agape and audibly asked what the fuck am I watching, cannot stress enough how much it takes to get that reaction out of me. There's an upfront showcase that Terrifier knows that it's trash and revels in it, I mean there's an early scene where we see Art has spelled out his name in his own shit, and I'm not sure how to interpret that other than I feel like I might be landing in a Duchamp's Urinal trap. For reasons that allude even me I am still eyeing the prospect of watching both sequels.

I think my overall reaction to Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire is one of "whatever". A passably bad film is a definite improvement from the abomination that was Godzilla vs. Kong but it's admittedly easy to rise up when you start from the bottom. Adam Wingard more or less sucked all the joy I could muster out of the Monsterverse, I truly do not care anymore. If anything can be gleaned from this film it's that this is a film made to reconfirm people's existing biases of "I hate the boring human scenes, I'm only watching this for the monsters." Kong is the best actor in this film because the special effects team have to have him actually emote in response to a given situation, which is more than could be asked of anyone actually on the set, apparently. It's a miracle that this came out in the shadow of Godzilla Minus One than on its own terms.

The glut of 1950's science fiction films are a perennial staple of the Halloween countdown but they don't have a huge showing this year. Man Beast is one I'm going to confuse with all the other yeti movies of the decade though having a main antagonist that's actually a human hybrid gets it some points for originality. Daughter of Dr. Jekyll infuriates me because women who become monsters in film never get to be "hideous" and "scary" like their male counterparts, I'm throwing tomatoes at this one. Devil Girl From Mars is mostly memorable for having a giant clunky robot a la Gort, but the actual titular antagonist doesn't "serve cunt" enough to warrant interest, she should have taken notes from The Astounding She-Monster. The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra is an honorable mention because it's a feature-length pastiche of the z-grade films of this era. I don't think it's particularly funny and I kind of wish they lampooned a "good" film of this type rather than make something that fits in line with the middling genre efforts. Night of The Ghouls is the last horror film directed by Ed Wood and I feel like I enjoy it slightly more than Plan 9 From Outer Space. It's far more competent in producing that lulling insomniac reaction than Wood's prior efforts but I still don't "get" the attention his work consistently gets. The Strange World of Planet X gets a special pass from me just because the finale has a bunch of giant bugs attacking stuff. Moving on.

The Colossus of New York is an oddball modern Frankenstein of sorts with a guy being transformed into a giant robot and struggling to maintain some attachment to his former life. It doesn't always work but once again giant clunky robots are giant clunky robots. I'm something of a Bert I. Gordon apologist so something like The Cyclops is going to hit harder for me than it does for most people. I just like people wandering around Bronson Cave and poor matte shots of giant animals moving in and out of frame, okay? The Tingler was the oddest revisit I've had in a while. I don't think I fully "get" William Castle's approach to film but what stuck out to me is how this one takes place in largely two locations and how Vincent Price's character is kind of the antagonist, experimenting on animals, himself, and other people (resulting in a murder) to get at the Tingler. Much like in House on Haunted Hill I'm not wholly sure how some of the spooky things in this film actually work and I don't think I'm meant to, adding to the bizarre nature of the entire series of affairs here.

Invaders From Mars...oh yes. One of the absolute best 1950's science fiction films is also the most lyrical and dreamlike. It reads at times like a Soviet parody of an American child's story would be like; a boy sees every institution designed to protect him as a child and as an American turn against him on account of some nefarious foreign invader, so his only course of action is to get the US military involved. It plays out so well because it's a POV piece from a young boy, which eases over any leaps in logic both in terms of form and content of this film. Which is more than can be said of the remake, part of the diminishing returns of Tobe Hooper's then contract with Cannon. The film largely follows the same plot structure but decenters the frame through which we see it unfold giving it a "the military is legit" vibe. It also is just a bit more mean-spirited in ways that are designed to taunt the audience versus the original film's more hardened edge to it. I think a great summation of the difference between the two is that the 1953 film had Martian bodyguards that are clearly guys in fuzzy green pajama suits, but they're more threatening than the ones in the 1986 film which are giant quadruped Stan Winston monsters. I digress. Had this come out 20 years later it would be classified as part of the wave of "why are they remaking everything?"

Speaking of remakes, briefly want to mention the 1995 Wasp Woman. It's The Wasp Woman for the 1990's, now with explosions and softcore sex scenes. I can't wholly defend the original 1959 film despite my affinity for it, so let's just say this one is of comparable quality.

The 1930's are a delightful treasure trove for horror but sadly we only have two up for offer. Mad Love makes me curious as to how other adaptations of The Hands of Orlac handle the material; I was convinced a guy got his head surgically reattached and with artificial hands to boot. Always good to see Colin Clive and Peter Lorre. The Walking Dead feels like a dry run for what Boris Karloff would do later that decade in the much better The Man They Could Not Hang, just with him as the victim here and not the mastermind. Truly some of his best work as an actor as he has to float through the world not being allowed to live or die, that shit sticks with you.

We watched a scant few Halloween specials proper, I always feel like I want to watch every Halloween special possible but sometimes the enthusiasm leaves me. The Last Halloween is trash, but that's on me for thinking something made for very small children would appeal to me as an adult. It crams far too much into its brief 22 minute runtime, so the only thing that manages to escape into the zone of interest is that the CGI aliens are actually very well done for a 1991 television production, had this been all about them (voiced by Hanna Barbara stalwarts such as Frank Welker and Don Messick, along with Paul Williams), this would have been far more tolerable. Halloween Hall o' Fame is the first of apparently several Disney television specials that repackaged their theatrical shorts inside a live-action framing device. It's quaint but this format would live and die by the quality of the shorts included; I'm not intimately familiar with Disney's back catalogue solely because they've barely released anything on home media but I absolutely adore the one where Pluto goes to Hell and is put in a kangaroo court with cats on the jury. I feel like the novelty of The Scooby-Doo Project and Night of The Living Doo have carried them along further than their actual quality have, stray artifacts from when Warner Bros was briefly testing to see if Scooby could be an adult property now, doomed to the same fate as Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law. The latter of these two specials made me come to terms with the fact that David Cross was "a big deal" at some point. The Great Bear Scare is the winner here. How could you not like an animated special where bears have to stand up and be brave against an oncoming horde of Halloween monsters? What makes this an oddity (sort of an obligation for me and Halloween specials) is that this is animated 100% without in-betweens, so every character in every scene cross-dissolves in real time between their keyframes. Depending on who you are it could be ridiculously distracting or make you step back and appreciate how hard animation is.

Clearing out our remaining animated showings, I felt like I would really get back into Scooby-Doo and The Reluctant Werewolf. In the mid-late 2000's when Cartoon Network was desperately trying to excise showing anything from their backlogs, this is one of those films that was on repeat constantly as midday viewings especially over summer. It's just so far removed from what Scooby-Doo "proper" is that it's an enigma, I go to bat to defend each of the "red shirt Shaggy" movies but this is brain melting at times, there is no mystery to solve, monsters are real, Fred/Daphne/Velma are completely absent, half the film is dedicated to a drag race, it goes on and on and on that I feel numb after a bit. Uzumaki...it's good. I feel like the fact that this was in production hell for five years following the first trailer release made me stop caring so all the shenanigans regarding the reaction to the animation dropping off (the production team got screwed over, how the fuck do studios not have the money for FOUR EPISODES, David Zlasv strikes again) brushed off of me. Regardless of that I think the actual pacing would have restricted this given how much sequential material from the manga now has to occur concurrently. It gets by solely because it's Uzumaki and as such it channels such a foreboding sense of dread and despair that is unreal. This more than anything is the true epitome of cosmic horror because there is no "source" or "identity" behind the threat that is warping reality around you, there is nothing to oppose and be defiant against, which was true of the manga and it remains true here. Bravo.

The 1970's prove to be another sporadic decade for horror. Cathy's Curse proves that no matter how good technical effects are, do not watch any Carrie knockoffs. Blah. Frankenstein's Castle of Freaks...you took a movie where a Frankenstein monster fights a caveman and made it boring, congratulations. In the interim between 2021's viewing of Curse of Frankenstein and now, I've made the effort to watch the entirety of the Hammer Frankenstein series. They make for a brilliant reinterpretation of the source material with Frankenstein effectively being antagonist: he kills consistently for his experiments, which often time warp and alter people's identities along with their bodies. The "holy triumvirate" of the series as referred to by me would be The Revenge of Frankenstein, Frankenstein Created Woman, and Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, all for showcasing new stuff that can be done with the character and any prior influences such as the Universal films being absent. Then comes The Horror of Frankenstein, a soft remake of Curse of Frankenstein, with Terence Fischer and Peter Cushing both absent. It's a dry and tedious affair that just rehashes what Curse already did, just now with a black comedic angle and no real consequences for Frankenstein himself. It's easily the worst of the series and why I'm glad Hammer backtracked for Frankenstein and The Monster From Hell. This is probably the first instance in film history where a sequel has consciously ignored a preceding remake, and while it's not wholly original either, it's comfort food for fans of this series, and now employs a darker more claustrophobic setting in an ~insane asylum~. Not the best ending for the series, but Hammer, along with Toho and Ray Harryhausen's efforts with Columbia, sort of represented the "old" styles of horror that were pretty quickly being replaced as the decade went on. This film specifically came out the same year as the likes of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, it was a transitional period where what horror once was was cast away. Still not sure why the monster in this film looks like a Neanderthal man but that's just me.

Tourist Trap desperately tries to be one part Psycho and one part Texas Chainsaw, and it admittedly starts off with a nice hook of animatronic puppets being the main focus of the film, but it falls through the cracks and just becomes another random 1970's horror film. Vampyros Lesbos makes me realize that my infatuation with Zombi 3 last year did not mean I'm suddenly infatuated with Lucio Fulci's overall filmography, exceptions are not the rule. Come to think I don't think I've seen a single lesbian vampire film that I'm smitten with, how do you make this boring and not sexy at all, fuck you. Scream, Blacula, Scream is the obligatory Blacula cash-in sequel, nothing worthwhile to see here and none of the charm and significance of the first film is carried forward here, sigh. "DEDICATED TO THE MILLIONS THAT LOVE BRUCE LEE," The Dragon Lives Again is one of the plethora of films featuring Lee impersonators following his death, showing Lee in Hell as he has to find a way back to Earth while also fighting off The Godfather, Dracula, The Man with No Name, Emanuele, Zatoichi, and James Bond while allying himself with Popeye and Dr. Who. No I am not making any of this up, yes, this film was made with very little money so it sounds far more interesting than it actually ends up being, but it's a cute film, I can't be mad at a film made for me, nor can a movie showing Popeye eat spinach to fight mummies or Bruce Lee knocking out Dracula with his "third leg" be something you don't go out of your way to watch.

The Alien Factor is Don Dohler's first and best film. I love the fact that a dozen people made a small scale alien invasion/slasher film in their backyards with actually solid special effects for something that was probably made on the weekends. You can't hate this film, it's made from pure love for what was already decades old genre material. Had some of the script and acting been tightened up this could have become one of the more widely recognized independent films of the decade. Oh...Alucarda. I hate when they make a lesbian devil worshiper film between girls coming to terms with theirs sexual orientation and then they aren't the heroes of the story. We've come a long way since then.

Given that the Eggers film is still a few months out, I'd say Nosferatu the Vampyre is my preferred interpretation of the story (not my favorite Dracula adaptation overall mind you). Let me say that I think remaking Nosferatu is ridiculous solely because you're just doing Dracula, again, just with some stylistic details brought on from a specific prior Dracula. But this film goes all out. It's one of those times where I'm reminded of why slowly paced films with shots that last minutes at a time are so great. It relies very little on narrative (the extent/nature of Dracula's power of the geographic barriers between Wismar and Transylvania go unexplained) but you get so thoroughly sucked into the setting and the characters that you can't complain. This has undeniably the best portrayal of Mina in any Dracula film, she's effectively the protagonist by the second half and each of her encounters with Dracula are on her terms, he's effectively powerless against her even if she ensures they both die in the end. Also, rats. So many rats. Everywhere. The plague is in town.

Shock Waves is just great 1970's horror. Shoot on location, hold the camera in hand the entire time, do it cheap, have a dreamy distant narrator, and make it grisly. I do find the concept of Nazis engineering platoons of super soldiers and we only seeing just the one in this film is probably the scariest thing about it, it invites you to think about what else is happening out of sight. My favorite first watch of the year.

1978's Invasion of The Body Snatchers is also a phenomenal remake. This one is difficult for me to talk about because it just pushes all my buttons, I felt like I wanted to cry throughout the duration of this viewing, it is an incredibly mean film. Someone you know just one day turns on you, and then everyone else follows suit. You think you know your surroundings and your city but everything is flipped upside down and you can't even describe why. From the very start when you see the premature pods land on Earth it's made immediately clear that no one is making it out of here, it was too late as soon as it started.

But there can only be one #1, and this year it's Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla. Another instance of "nothing is going to beat this" as soon as I rewatched it. I feel like I'm alone in considering this one of the absolute best in the series, I feel like between the espionage and exploration and blood and laser fights that this is just one of the films that reminds you of why we make and why we watch movies, you get to have some semblance of every possible human emotion watching this. There's not much more you can ask for.

[whumplump]

Day 9 of @augusnippets

Prompts used: hypothermia / dehydration

Not used: overheating

CW: wreckage, hypothermia, dehydration, shark attack, fighting for life

Shit.

Whumpee pulled the line to start the small boat's engine. They heard the sound of the machine becoming more choppy with each attempt. Grayish smoke was pouring from openings in the pipes at the rear of the boat.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Run! Run, piece of trash!"

Whumpee tried several more times, cursing with each failure. The roar of the engine died down, until it no longer produced any sound when asked to be activated.

Whumpee slammed their hands on the boat's steering console, screaming wildly in frustration. Calming themselves for a moment, they looked around. They were in the middle of the sea. They saw land in the distance, but they saw no way to get there. The boat is unusable and, with the early morning cold, plus the tiredness, plus the unknown fish that lived in the ecosystem below, they certainly wouldn't be able to swim there.

They hung their heads in defeat. They were soaked due to the imbalance of the boat, which was very small. The tears that ran down their face mixed with the salt water that covered their entire body. The effects of the environment had been affecting them for a long time. The cold, thanks to the wet clothes; and a burning dryness in their mouth, as they had ended up ingesting a large amount of seawater a few hours ago, when they were still swimming until they finally found the abandoned boat.

Whumpee looked back at the island in the distance. They thought about some options. That island certainly welcomed tourists. They could wait until daylight, and scream for help when someone appeared. Or, they could try to swim there. Or throw themselves into the water and drown.

A sound louder than the tide coming from behind caught their attention. They noticed movement in the water, of something hiding beneath the surface. It surrounded the boat for a few seconds, inducing Whumpee to hyperventilate in anticipation of what they knew would happen. The shark swam diagonally until it positioned itself under the boat, and launched itself upwards, knocking Whumpee and the machine over.

Whumpee decided not to wait until the shark wanted to move the empty boat and immediately started swimming as soon as they hit the water. The sea animal behind him took a few seconds before it started to follow them, giving Whumpee the advantage of getting ahead. However, they knew that the animal swam at a much greater speed and would certainly catch up to them.

Whumpee forced their tired arms and legs with everything they had. After swimming a few meters, they found shelter on a rock that had just been revealed by the low tide.

Even though Whumpee was no longer in the water, the shark didn't give up, trying to reach them on top of the rock. Whumpee, high on adrenaline, kicked the animal in the face, which stunned it. The shark retreated and returned to the sea, leaving Whumpee alone.

Alone, but not in peace. They fell backwards onto the rock, trying to catch their breath, but when a breeze hit them, they curled up into a ball, trying to keep warm.

Now, really, the cold was the biggest nuisance. The dryness they had in their mouth now also affected the skin on the back of their hands. Their arms and legs ached from the effort of swimming. They no longer had the energy to cry at the moment. They realized their situation. No one would come to help them. Nobody knew they were there. They would die there. In the cold, and thirsty. Who knows, maybe the shark isn't kind and decides to devour them first by the head, so they could die without pain, instead of agonizing on that cold rock that would be covered by water again when the tide rose, returning them back to the shark's territory.

[v-vox-v]

hello, Mr Vox!! I have a couple of great white shark facts for u >:)

great white shark teeth are serrated, triangular, and as sharp as steak knives!

a great white shark starred in the movie "Jaws".

a great white shark can jump completely out of water.

that's all I have, thank you for your time! ^^

“HOLY SHIT DID JAWS GET MENTIONED?!”

“For those of you that don’t know about the movie I’ll summarize it for you!”

“On Amity Island, a place not unlike New York's Fire Island, there is a plague of shark attacks. Several people are slain. The Mayor (Murray Hamilton) is the sort who doesn't believe in rocking the boat (or ruining business during the short summer season), so he tries to keep the news quiet and tells the local fishermen that he would appreciate it if they can take some time out from clamming and lobster traps to hunt down whatever it is out there. A good-sized shark is captured and killed, and Mayor Hamilton happily assures tourists and newsmen that the danger has passed and now it's safe to go back in the water. Oh the fool he was.

A charming marine biologist Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) arrives to look deeper into the dead shark. He quickly becomes convinced that this creature could not possibly be the same one that did all the bloody work. He tells the police chief Martin Brody (Roy Scheider) that there is no way this piddling fish could have been responsible. No, sir, this has to have been the work of—A Great White Shark. Martin thinks Matt is wrong but is soon convinced when there's yet another attack. Matt and Martin bring this to the attention of everyone at a town meeting, over the objections of Mayor Hamilton, who still wants to keep everything under wraps. The fishermen, upon hearing that the culprit is a Great White, decide that their lives are too valuable to risk in stalking such a beast. A seaman Quint (Robert Shaw) with a penchant for foul language and a loner attitude then steps forward and says he can kill the gargantuan fish if they come up with some serious money. The town council hems and haws but finally agrees, and Quint, Matt, and Martin join forces on Quint's boat for the hunt. Hunting the great white Now the story resembles Moby Dick as Quint trails the shark the way Ahab did the whale. There's a bit of time out for some funny dialogue between the disparate men, but then the action begins in earnest. They spot the shark; Quint harpoons it several times, but it's like pinpricks to the 28-foot shark and it toys with them. With John Williams' haunting theme playing in the background, the shark starts to counterattack and tows the boat further out to sea.

Next the shark gets annoyed by these intruders who've come to its neck of the ocean and decides to go after them. The final sequences are one shock after another as the shark capsizes the boat and swallows Quint whole. In the end, Martin saves himself and Matt by wedging an air tank in the mouth of the shark and exploding it. Background Fortunes soared Spielberg shows great restraint in his handling of the menace. The shark isn't seen, except for bits and pieces and shadows underwater, for an hour and twenty minutes into the movie. As a result, the first time it lurches above the water, grown men screamed and those of faint heart reached for their nitroglycerine pills.”

[trashbag-baby666]

Shoreline Redemption-Clegan

Summary: It’s been over a month since Gale lost his arm from a shark attack. He’s questioning everything in his life and confined himself to his house. But not for much longer if John has anything to do with it.

WC: 1,140

C/W: tiny mentions of blood

mota masterlist! ~ ao3 link

Gale's toes curled into the hot sand, the warmth seeping through him as he relaxed back into John's comforting embrace. He thought he was ready, but now, standing on the beach, doubts crept in, and he began second-guessing his decision. For the past month and a half, he hadn't left the house except for his appointments.

At seventeen, Gale felt his life was over. He envisioned himself stuck working at his grandfather's surf shop, forever wondering what might have been if he hadn't gone out that fateful day. Once a nationally ranked champion surfer, now the dream slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

"Do you wanna go inside?" John’s voice thrummed reassuringly against his back. They stood on the wooden path leading to the beach, John having finally pried Gale out of his room to watch the sunset. The waves, once a source of joy, now seemed like a taunting threat. In the distance, Meatball ran up and down the beach, waiting for them to join him.

"No," Gale shook his head, bringing his hand up to where John's arms wrapped around him. "I think I can do it."

"Come on, Buck!" John had chased Gale around his grandpa's little bungalow. Gale was frantically shoving his schoolwork into his bag, ignoring his boyfriend’s pleas. "The conditions are glassy out at the cove are perfect! You know the universe won’t forgive you for missing a day of perfect surfing to go to school and on Halloween!"

"Why can’t we just go after?" Gale asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and filling Meatball's water bowl.

"I promised Ma we’d take Bethy trick-or-treating, remember?" John leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He was already prepared, wearing Birkenstocks, board shorts, and a shirt. It was clear he wasn’t going to school, whether Gale did or not. Gale sighed, glancing out the kitchen window at his granddad, already busy at the small surf shop across the street with one of his college-aged employees.

"Fine," Gale huffed, walking down the hall to change out of his school clothes and into his swimsuit.

Once in the water, Gale was glad he had come. He and Ken raced down the beach, surfboards in hand. October was his favorite time of the year on the island—no tourists, perfect surfing conditions, and the occasional Halloween parties. Last year, John had surfed in an inflatable dinosaur costume and won a costume contest.

"I'm going to catch that wave," Gale called out as he began paddling.

"Not if I get there first!" Ken shouted, nudging Gale’s board slightly off course.

"Hey! You're cheating!" Gale laughed.

Curt and John lingered on the beach for a moment. Curt lit a joint while John spread out blankets and snacked on cheese from Ken’s cooler.

Gale smiled up at the sun and fluffy white clouds, lying on his back on the board. He moved his hand back and forth in the water, feeling its pull. John lay next to him, eyes closed, head resting on his hands. Gale glanced back toward the shore, where Curt and Ken were relaxing on the blanket, Ken giggling at something Curt said. The two were still practically inseparable even after two years of living together in Ken’s parents' beach house.

But then everything changed in an instant. An ear-piercing shriek escaped Gale's mouth before he could process what was happening. An intense pressure gripped his shoulder, and he heard John's muffled scream of "Shark!" Panic set in, but he couldn’t comprehend it fully. Warm blood trickled down his shoulder, but he couldn’t move his other hand to touch it. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of John’s hands as he drifted into a dreamlike state.

The waves crashed at their ankles as they walked along the shoreline, Meatball darting ahead and returning with a piece of driftwood for them to throw. Gale inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh, salty air. He had missed this more than he wanted to admit.

Suddenly, his feet halted of their own accord. John, a step ahead, turned to face him. "Everything alright?" John's eyes searched Gale's, reflecting the orange hues of the setting sun. He knew it took immense courage for Gale to come down to the beach. Since the accident, Gale hadn't ventured further than the edge of the backyard.

"Yeah," Gale nodded, his eyes distant. His blonde curls fluttered in the breeze as he freed his hand from John's and pulled off John's shirt off of himself, tossing it onto a nearby log.

"Buck?" John called, shading his eyes as Gale ran into the water and dove in. Moments later, Gale resurfaced, waving with a bright smile. Meatball bolted past John, joining Gale in the water.

John's smile widened, the kind that made his eyes crinkle. He tugged off his shirt and followed, diving into the waves. It felt different this time—maybe because Gale's smile was genuine. They stood in waist-deep water, Meatball happily splashing around them.

They shared a moment of silent joy before erupting into childlike giggles. John took Gale's hand and rested his forehead against his, their eyelashes nearly touching. "Doesn't it feel good?"

Gale nodded, wrapping his arm around John's neck and kissing him. The taste of saltwater on their lips made the moment all the more real. As they pulled away, still gazing into each other's eyes, John cupped his hand in the water and let it fall gently over Gale's left shoulder, where the small, rounded stump remained. Gale watched him, feeling the self-loathing begin to ebb away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of pink and purple, Gale and John walked back to the shore. They toweled off, the cool evening breeze rustling through the palm trees. Meatball, exhausted but happy, flopped down next to them, panting with satisfaction.

"Let's do this again tomorrow," John suggested, his voice soft but hopeful. "Just a little bit every day until it feels normal again."

Gale looked out at the ocean, the rhythmic sound of the waves now a gentle lullaby instead of a taunt. He turned to John, seeing the unwavering support in his eyes. "Yeah," he agreed, feeling a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time. "I'd like that."

They gathered their belongings and made their way back up the path to the house, the sky now a blanket of stars. Gale realized that while his life had changed, it wasn't over. With John by his side and the promise of new beginnings, he felt ready to face whatever came next.

The future, once clouded with uncertainty, now seemed a little brighter. Gale squeezed John's hand, grateful for the love and support that had carried him through. Together, they walked into the night, ready to embrace whatever tomorrow might bring.

-

-

Taglist: @austeenbootler @executethyself35 @coastiewife465 @slowsweetlove

-

Not sure I’ll write more about this au unless you guys would like to see more!!!

[tennessoui]

lifeguard obi and surfer ani would be so GOOOOOOOOD THE WUMP THE FLIRTING THE RECOVERY

also the idea of anakin going out at night when he's recovering to feel feelings and obi wan either seeing him and running over (or obi is also on the beach bc feelings) and then a gorgeous hot tender moment where they fuck on the beach :) :* completely ignoring anakins beef w sand

ooo I know surfer anakin au is very loose and undefined so far but I feel like surfer anakin and lifeguard obi-wan very much have a frenemies thing going on like surfer anakin is at the beach every day and teaches a surfing class for little ones and bored tourists, and he’s not as great at teaching the safety part so obi-wan usually steps in to make sure everyone understands how dangerous the ocean is and how easy it can be to knock one’s teeth out with a surfboard

and anakin is pretty much 😍 the whole time but obi-wan probably assumes he’s mocking him because he’s 16 years his senior, easily the oldest lifeguard employed, and anakin is some sort of beach sex god who could have anyone he wants at any time, so he’s very standoffish….but anakin is persistent and earnest and sweet and also persistent (did I say persistent yet) and obi-wan is fighting a losing battle that he loses completely after anakins shark attack etc etc

So they can come together gently and softly during recovery, probably on the beach eventually <3

[anonymousewrites]

A Good Day for Death (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Wednesday Addams x Reaper! Reader

Chapter Eight: A Good Day for Ruins

Summary: (Y/N) eats fudge, kicks ass, and picks locks. Wednesday investigates, finds the ruins of the original Meeting House, and has a shark attack.

            “Damn, they made me take off my jewelry,” said (Y/N), sighing as they tried to tie the apron around their waist. “Apparently it didn’t match the ‘pilgrim’ aesthetic.”

            “I doubt Joseph Crackstone would approve of skull earrings and bone rings,” said Wednesday. “Too outcast-like.” She finished tying her bonnet and eyed (Y/N)’s attempt that ended in loose, messy bow. Arlene would definitely have problems with it. “That looks terrible.”

            (Y/N) huffed. “Hey, you had Thing help you.”

            Wednesday rolled her eyes and walked over, batting (Y/N)’s hands away. They stood face-to-face, quite close as Wednesday worked on (Y/N)'s bonnet. She expertly tied the bow—the loops even looked like nooses. “We need to look the part so we can avoid notice from Arlene.”

            “Let me guess, we’re sneaking to the meeting house?” asked (Y/N).

            She nodded. “We need information.” She walked to the door of the changing room and put her hand on the handle. “Until then, we sell fudge to gullible tourists.” Wednesday opened the door and headed out.

            “Why do I think this is gonna be less selling and more terrorizing?” murmured (Y/N).

            Sure enough, as soon as some German tourists arrived inside the store, Wednesday didn’t waste any time talking to them. In German. (Y/N) had a sneaking suspicion whatever she was saying was different from what Arlene would want for sales.

            “Enjoy your ‘authentic’ pilgrim fudge made with cacao beans procured by the oppressed indigenous people of the Amazon,” said Wednesday in German. “All proceeds go to uphold this pathetic whitewashing of American history. Also, fudge wasn’t invented for another 258 years.” She held out the fudge plate and smile deviously. In English, she said, “Any takers?”

            The tourists glanced at each other nervously. “No, no, no.” They filtered out the door without a look back.

            “What did you say?” asked (Y/N), leaning towards Wednesday as they popped a sample into their mouth.

            “The truth,” said Wednesday. “They just couldn’t…stomach it.” She arched an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, how have you eaten that much?”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “I’m a demigod. I’ve got a tough stomach.”

            “Ugh,” groaned Eugene from out back. He had been eating a ton of fudge and was now growing quite sick of it.

            “I don’t think Eugene has the same metal, though,” said (Y/N). A gasp rang out, and they looked at Wednesday in alarm. Looking out the side window, they saw Jericho boys pulling Eugene around the corner. “Wednesday. Eugene was just kidnapped by pilgrims.”

            “Let me guess. Three boys?” asked Wednesday, heading towards the backdoor.

            “Yeah. Do you know them?” questioned (Y/N).

            “I’ve dealt with them before,” she said, narrowing her eyes as they stepped behind the building to where the three Jericho boys were opening a stockade to push Eugene in.

            That backfired as Eugene, not having the stomach for so much fudge, threw up on one of the boys. It angered them more as they tried to shove him into the stockade.

            Wednesday approached, and in a cool tone, she said, “Howdy, pilgrims.” She stopped the stockade from falling with a single hand. “Let him go.”

            “You want to end up in the stocks, too?” hissed one of the boys.

            “Remember what happened the last time we did this dance?” questioned Wednesday threateningly.

            The boy threw Eugene to his friends and approached Wednesday. He grabbed at her, and she swept his feet out from under his feet with practiced ease. He tried to stand and take a swing at her, but (Y/N) intervened and kicked him backward. Wednesday grabbed him and slammed him into the stockade. She closed it on him before he could try anything else.

            Wednesday glanced at the other two Jericho boys. “Are you two still here?”

            “I can’t get into more trouble with my dad,” muttered Lucas, Mayor Walker’s son. He turned away with his friend and left the last boy in the stockade shouting at them to come back.

            “Come on, Eugene. Let’s get you cleaned up,” said (Y/N), smiling gently. They sat Eugene down and undid their bonnet. Pouring water on it, they cleaned up his face.

            “No one’s ever stood up for me before,” said Eugene.

            “You said Hummers stick together,” said Wednesday.

            “I know this might come as a shock, but I don’t have any friends,” admitted Eugene.

            “You remind of my brother,” admitted Wednesday in an unusual show of saying something personal. “Sans the desire to strangle him every waking moment.”

            “And no one should be pushed around like that,” said (Y/N). “They’re just jerks. Don’t listen to anything they say.”

            “Now,” said Wednesday sharply. “We have a meeting house to break into. We need to find out more about Joseph Crackstone.” She turned and walked around the side of the meeting house.

            (Y/N) stood. “Come on, Eugene. You heard the girl.” They followed Wednesday.

            She extended her hand to Eugene without looking. “Give me your retainer.”

            “What? Why? Your teeth are really good,” said Eugene.

            “Don’t worry, let me get this,” said (Y/N). They pulled a hairpin hidden in their hair. They crouched by the lock and carefully slid the pin in. (Y/N) fiddled for a moment, listening carefully, before the lock clicked open. “Tada!”

            Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “You can pick locks,” she remarked.

            “My mom is a mortician. She taught me how to be very precise with my hands from a young age. I practiced on locks,” said (Y/N), shrugging as if it was normal.

            “Can you do anything else useful?” questioned Wednesday as she pushed the door open.

            “I know how to sew and do stitches pretty well,” said (Y/N).

            “A useful skill as we may suffer injuries during our investigation,” remarked Wednesday.

            “I’ll make sure I have a needle and thread with me then!” said (Y/N) brightly.

            “Um, guys,” interjected Eugene. “Are you sure this is a good idea? What if Miss Arlene catches you?”

            “Hive code, deny everything,” said Wednesday.

            “That’s not hive code!” said Eugene. “What’s the big deal anyway?”

            “Keep watch,” ordered Wednesday, closing the door behind herself and (Y/N).

            “This is like a shrine to pilgrims. Weird,” muttered (Y/N), peering around the meeting house. Cases with tableware, shelves of books, racks of farm tools, and even a wax figure of Joseph Crackstone stood around the room.

            “Hopefully useful,” said Wednesday, investigating the many items.

            “Hey, Wednesday,” called (Y/N), peering at a painting. “This girl, she kind of looks like you.” They didn’t understand how or the significance of it, but they knew Wednesday would appreciate any clue. And so would they, after all, since they were involved with the whole fight-against-Crackstone-prophecy thing. “Except for, you know, the white hair.”

            Wednesday leaned in, and her eyes widened. “I saw her in my vision.”

            “At Crackstone’s Crypt? That can’t be a coincidence.” (Y/N) wished Wednesday would explain what she saw in her visions, but they dared not press since Wednesday might reject their tentative friendship, and (Y/N)…Well, they liked Wednesday. They didn’t want to lose that.

            “She held the same book,” said Wednesday. She looked to the other side of the room. “That one.” She quickly opened the case and picked it up.

            “Codex Umbrarum?” asked (Y/N), frowning. “ ‘Shadowy Book?’ ”

            “It’s Latin for ‘Book of Shadows,’ ” translated Wednesday. She opened it and nearly huffed in annoyance. “Great,” she snapped. “It’s a fake.”

            “But there must be a real one somewhere,” pointed out (Y/N). “Museums often put replacements of artifacts on display if they’re cleaning exhibits or something.”

            The door banged open, and Arlene, dragging Eugene by the collar, stormed in. “Just what the fudge are you two doing in here?!” she demanded.

            “Hey, Miss Arlene,” said (Y/N) sheepishly.

            “Why, Mistress Arlene, how now?” Wednesday smirked.

            “How now, indeed,” sneered Arlene. “I proclaimed this meeting house is under repair. I know thoust heard me.”

            “I told her the door was unlocked and you guys were dying to know more about Crackstone!” said Eugene quickly as he saw Wednesday leveling a dark look at him.

            “Oh, yeah, stoked, and this case was already open,” said (Y/N) hurriedly, smiling cheerfully.

            “That book’s a replica,” said Arlene.

            “You don’t say,” said Wednesday.

            “The original was stolen last month during the two o’clock witch trial,” said Arlene.

            That can’t be a coincidence, thought (Y/N).

            “It was probably the only authentic thing you have in here, yet you still charge $29.95 a ticket?” challenged Wednesday.

            Arlene crossed her arms defensively. “Hold thy tongue. I’m reassigning you all. To fudge-churning duty.”

            Wednesday ignored her remarks. “The original meeting house in the painting—the one in that painting—where is it?”

            Arlene sighed, and her stiff pilgrim façade melted away into her true personality. “How the hell should I know? I only moved here from Scottsdale in April.” She straightened again and went back into her performance. “Come now, young Nevermore kin. I shall show thou to thous assignment.” She turned and walked out the door.

            Wednesday looked at (Y/N). “We’re leaving when we have the next opportunity for escape.”

            “Sounds good to me. I like eating fudge, but making it seems annoying,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “And whatever you have planned is sure to be more fun.”

l

            Back in their Nevermore uniforms, (Y/N) and Wednesday walked into the Weathervane. Wednesday had pointed out that Tyler, as someone who grew up in Jericho, would have an idea of where the original meeting house was, plus he was willing to talk to her.

            Seeing them, Xavier said, “I thought you were supposed to be at Pilgrim World.”

            “I deserted it while my sanity was still intact,” said Wednesday.

            “Oh, yeah?” Xavier glanced between her and (Y/N). He furrowed his brow. He had been trying his best to get Wednesday attention, so it irritated him that (Y/N) seemed to get it so easily and be allowed to hang around her with no issues. “Um, want a coffee? It’s one of the many perks of this wonderful assignment.”

            “Actually, we’re here for Tyler,” said Wednesday with her usual honesty.

            “He’s bad news,” said Xavier, much less friendly.

            “Who I speak to is my business,” said Wednesday.

            (Y/N) cleared their throat uncomfortably as Xavier bit his cheek in annoyance. It was painfully obvious he was jealous, and although they didn’t realize he was also envious of them, they were aware of how awkward the situation had become. (Y/N) hesitantly rang the bell to call for service so that Tyler came out from the back, but they wanted to leave to avoid any more issues.

            Tyler arrived and glanced between everyone and registering the tension in the air. “Uh, you rang?” he said, looking at Wednesday hopefully in case she had done so. Xavier scoffed and turned away. Tyler suppressed a small smirk as “winning” against Xavier (really, the boys were being ridiculous). “So, want to usual, Wednesday?” He looked at (Y/N). “And I can get you something, too.”

            I know Wednesday’s cooler than me, but seriously? thought (Y/N), sighing inwardly. “No, I’m good. I ate a lot of fudge already.”

            “We need some help,” said Wednesday. She nodded to (Y/N). “Open the map.” (Y/N) unfolded the map of town they had grabbed from the brochures at the Weathervane. “You know the original pilgrim meeting house, the one from the 1600s? Do you know if it’s still around?”

            “What’s left is out in Cobham Woods, but it’s pretty much a ruin,” said Tyler.

            “Where exactly?” asked (Y/N).

            Tyler pointed to the map. “There, but, look, it’s pretty sketchy. Squatters and meth heads use that place as a crash pad. My dad has it cleared out every couple weeks. What’s this about?”

            Wednesday regarded him distrustfully. “Nothing.”

            Tyler smiled in realization. “You’re becoming obsessed with this monster in the woods thing.”

            “What else is there to obsess over in Jericho and Nevermore?” asked (Y/N), shrugging.

            Wednesday looked at (Y/N). “Let’s go.”

            “Right,” said (Y/N).

            “Hey, listen, the ruins are kind of hard to find,” said Tyler. “I could take you this afternoon. My shift ends at two o’clock.” He was trying to create an opportunity to spend more time with Wednesday, and it wasn’t a terrible tactic since she had accepted his offer to escape Jericho just a few days ago.

            This time, though, he had no luck. “Principal Weems would hang, drawn, and quarter me if I miss the big statue dedication,” said Wednesday. “As enticing as that experience sounds, I’d prefer to keep a low profile. Besides, I know my way around the great outdoors.”

            “Don’t tell me you were a Girl Scout,” said Tyler in an attempt to tease.

            “Actually, she hibernated with grizzlies,” remarked (Y/N).

            Tyler blinked at the comment as (Y/N) and Wednesday left the room to investigate the pilgrim’s true meeting house.

l

            (Y/N) and Wednesday walked through Cobham Woods until they came upon the skeletal remains of the old meeting house. Spindly bits of wood stood in the vague shape of walls and a house with various holes.

            “You know, this has ‘horror movie’ written all over it.” (Y/N) wrinkled their nose. “Something definitely happened here all those centuries ago. I can just…feel it.”

            “You are the Child of Thanatos,” remarked Wednesday. “It’s possible you can feel remnants of death.”

            “Good point. This is why you’re the brains of the operation,” said (Y/N) brightly.

            Wednesday smirked. “I’m Frankenstein, and you’re Igor.”

            “I’d like to think I’m prettier than that,” remarked (Y/N) as they entered the ruins.

            “Who goes there?!” cried an old man, jumping up from a cobblestone fireplace. “Aha! Children!”

            (Y/N) backed away while Wednesday stepped forward. “Use the word ‘child’ to describe me again, and I can’t guarantee your safety.”

            “This is my place! Get out!” cried the man.

            Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “Thing, a hand here?”

            From her backpack, Thing ran out across the ground and up the man’s leg. The man tried to fight against the hand but was knocked to the ground. He scrambled up and made a run for it as Wednesday resumed her examination of the old meeting house.

            “There’s nothing here,” huffed Wednesday.

            “Well, we can hardly expect artifacts to be still here at that point,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            Thing tapped against the ground. Wednesday shook her head. “No, I can’t just touch something. My visions seem to happen spontaneously.” Thing tapped again, and Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “I would rather dye my hair pink than ask my mother for advice.”

            “Thing has a point, though,” remarked (Y/N). “You should try to see if something will trigger a vision.”

            Wednesday slapped a hand against a pillar. “Nothing.” She walked to another wall, and (Y/N) trailed behind her in case a vision grabbed Wednesday and she fell. Again, she touched the wood. “Nothing. My visions are about as predictable as shark attacks.” Wednesday touched the door to leave.

            Her head snapped back, and she was thrown headlong into a vision. As she collapsed, (Y/N) caught her before laying her down carefully.

            They looked at Thing. “There’s our shark attack.”

Taglist:

@strawberriesareprettycool

@im-making-an-effort

@champagnewitnocham

@simpcreator

@ksunoosworld

@dot-and-co

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@itsyapeepkiri

@daza1s-w1fe

@tired-writing-reader

@mary-jinx

@ognenniyvolk

@under-kitty

@colezb

@simp4natasha

@emily-roberts

@left-and-right-up-and-down

@star583

@rainbow-love4ever

[starry-blue-echoes]

I read about gator Joot and immediately thought about the dinosaur - eating gators and Crocs.

Like Jotaro is still a teenager in part 3, so with him having gator and shark in his werebeast form - he would get bigger. The biggest gator was Deinosuchus - around 10 meters (34ft), while the biggest croc was Sarcosuchus - around 40ft long. The biggest shark was Megalodon at around 15 to 18 meters in length. The biggest wolf was the dire wolf and the largest wolf alive is the Mackenzie Valley Wolf.

Also in-between part 3 and part 4, he was studying Marine Biology! THE OCEAN IS THE PREFECT PLACE FOR LARGE ANIMALS!! Jotaro's beast would continue to grow bigger in a very large water environment.

In part 3, he would probably be pulling all the movie - animal attack references just to scare a few enemies. Kakyoin's idea, Polnareff joins in later, Joseph is 50/50 with is idea, and Avdol is trying to handle whatever control is left.

In part 4, he does the same thing - but bigger, maybe. Kira might lose a hand or two for touching his kids. Kira does not get his hand back, at all.

Part 5... A local Florida man claims to have seen a gigantic gator swimming with a group of dolphins, more information coming soon on channel five.

Part 6... At this point, Jotaro may have made friends with every croc, gator, or whatever sea animal in Florida. Like in the ocean community he is well loved, not one animal will talk bad about the Doctor; just happy thoughts all around. Jolyne gets a cool reptile friend in prison, due to dad.

Almost forgot to add this... Iggy has weird feelings about him (wolf part), but then they are somewhat buddies due to Joot giving him big pieces of meat/food. No one knows where Joot gets the meat from, but no one wants to ask either.

- Abe

Y E S

I'm a huge sucker for the thought of "reptiles just keep growing the older they get and they won't stop" and Jotaro absolutely deserves to be a Big Ol Gator As A Treat <3

I'm cackling over the movie attacks and you're 100% correct. Once Kakyoin and Polnareff learn Jotaro isn't completely comfortable with his other half they set out to change that, and what better way to do it than make it fun :3 Jotaro ends up actually having fun too (as much as he denies it) and just. Gets more comfortable with the idea that 1) he's not inherently scary and 2) sometimes being scary wasn't a bad thing

Joseph absolutely enables the kids tho and Avdol is slowly counting to 10 in his head while coming up with an argument for why no Jotaro terrifying tourists in the river is not a good idea I don't care how funny it may be you could get hurt-

I also really love the idea of him and Iggy being Sorta Friends. Iggy frequently hitches rides on Jotaro's back whenever he changes and Jotaro's surprisingly Chill with it

and honestly, I wouldn't put it above Jotaro to just fucking bite Kira, especially if we go with the idea that if they get too injured or afraid they'll instinctively start changing. Maybe with SHA's first attack it was too fast and knocked him out too quick for him to fully change, so just as Koichi is dragging Jotaro's body he's slowly beginning to change. By the time he wakes up he's like..... 3/4 of the way shifted and instead of using Star he just fucking latches onto the guy with his bare teeth and uses Star to restrain Killer Queen

and Jotaro gets to become a Floridian Cryptid. As a treat <333

and this also gave me a THOUGHT for Part 6. What if while Jotaro still gets his disk stolen....... what if it doesn't quite have the same affect

what if instead of rending him comatose, it leaves him as a complete beast. There is no humanity nor any way for him to change back, he's just an unintelligent animal who's injured and afraid. He flees into the waters before Jolyne can do anything

weeks later, rumours start floating around from the guards about a Giant Really Fucking Weird Crocodile/Alligator Thing that's been spotted near the prison a couple times, and Jolyne immediately realises who it is. So when the prisoners are asked to search the marshes, she all but jumps at the chance to find him

maybe she ends up using Foo's help to keep an eye on him. They leave some of their plankton with the gator to keep watch and make sure Jotaro doesn't get into any trouble or wander off too far, and every once in a while Jolyne will send out one of Stone Free's strings to just...... feel for herself that he's still there. She'll talk to him through the string too, because even though she knows he can't understand her, it makes the whole situation feel a little less awful

getting Star's disk to him is LOADS easier too and has way less risk to it. They pretty much just get Weather to use to his Stand and fly the disk over to him, and while that does bring up different obstacles they have to face, it's much much easier then what they go through in canon