#It Was A Dark And Stormy Night

[rhetthammersmithhorror]

The Invasion of the Vampires | 1963

[moldychefboyardeecan]

damon albarn period sex

red core

vampire!damon albarn x AFAB!reader, pet names

a/n: i literally know nothing about blur, i only know what i know from aves aka @avxoxo1 i think im going to go lay down now..

cw: period, blood, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering,jorkin it,cumming

wc: 1.4k

It was a dark and stormy night. Typically, during weather like this, you never truly cared for a visitor. Except for your Instacart and DoorDash orders delivering your shit dinner for tonight. Nothing else was on the menu for tonight, except for lethargy.Your lower body hurt like a bitch—cramping so hard it felt like your muscles were being shoved through a rusted industrial compressor. 

You lay sprawled on the couch in a hoodie three sizes too big, heating pad humming against your belly, phone acting as a dim light source.

“fuuuck.” you groaned out loud, to absolutely no one in the room.

All you wanted was for the day to end, and for you to wake up tomorrow, with at least enough energy to take care of yourself.Or eat something that wasn’t delivered in a greasy, flimsy paper bag.

Though, to no one's fucking surprise, when you wanted no one home, is when people knock on the door.

You’re not opening that damn door for NO ONE. Nope. Nope. You are in way too much pain to even get up. 

Knock, Knock. Again? Can’t the guy take a hint?

You buried your hands against your face, muffling yet another groan. You were feeling like garbage, your uterus eating itself alive. Today was not the day. For anything. You weren't dressed for anyone, not even for a mailman.

Until your phone buzzed and lit up on the armrest beside you.

“I swear to GOD,” you hissed.

Reluctantly, you check your phone to see who it is. 

One new message from: Damon 🖤

“I’m outside, luv. Brought some snacks.”

You’ve been dating him already for around a month now. Early enough that you don’t have to tell him everything about your life, and neither would he. 

He better have made it worth you standing up. Grumbling and muttering curses directed at anyone but you and your own internal organs, you open the door. He was there, a small brown plastic bag in his hand, stuffed with what you assume to be the snacks.

“Hey, come in.” You nodded your head towards the interior. He slipped inside, pulled off his hood, and hung up his sweater on the coat rack—the one you only put up for his trenchcoats he definitely doesn’t leave by accident.

He doesn’t say anything. He 's tense. Off-putting. Strange. 

You put a hand to his shoulder, trying to ease him. “Hey, are you okay?”

Little did you know, the smell of your period blood was intoxicating to his senses.

Damon did everything he could to keep his desires to himself. But fuck, the smell of the blood dripping out of your cunt were so delicious. “I’m fine, darling.” He answered, trying to keep his suave demeanor. He had brought you snacks– your natural remedy to anything. To be fair, he wasn't expecting you to be as divine as you were right now. 

You lay the snacks down and take the chocolate out of the bag; a Hershey’s king size milk chocolate bar. WIth the grace of a rabid raccoon, you ate it, guttural moans of pleasure and relief coming through you. If only it was him making those pretty noises out of you, and not the chocolate. His jaw stiffened, trying to keep himself in place. 

“You’re bleeding.” He stated bluntly.

How the fuck did he know that?

Hesitant, you ask, “how'd ya know..?”

Damon shrugged it off. “Lucky guess.”

You walk back onto the couch, lost in a daze of exhaustion and pain. Damon followed, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Thanks by the way, for the snacks.” You thanked Damon, whose hand was rubbing your forearm up and down gently. Your eyes fluttered at the gentle touch, taking it all in. He kissed your temple, and laid his head back down. He was aching to taste your bleeding core so bad. He growled into the crook of your neck “You smell delicious, angel.” His hand traveled down to your breasts, where he started massaging them. 

Full, plump, and tender were the words he would use to describe your tits. His hand went under your hood now, massaging the bare flesh. You arched your back, hissing at the sensation. 

“I can smell it, you know” he said softly. “Not in a creepy way. Just... it’s strong. 

“Smell what?”

“Your blood.” Shamelessly, he put his face against the middle of your pants, where your core was. He took a deep breath, and took it all in. His hand went to your clothed center, the friction from your clothes sending his touch to your clit. 

“You into this, Damon?”

“Fuck, yes.” he opened his mouth, licking his now prominent fangs. 

“You’re a vampire.”

He didn’t deny it.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

“You’re serious?” you asked, your voice not nearly as steady as your face.

Damon nodded, slow. Like he was waiting for you to scream. Or laugh. Or throw a crucifix.

Instead, you just… sighed.

“Does that bother you?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“So what now?” you asked.

“Now,” he said softly, “I help you feel better. If you’ll let me.”

With that, you sighed—slow and heavy—tilting your hips forward in silent permission.

Damon moved like something unchained. Not rough. Not fast.

He hooked his hands onto your waistband, slowly taking off your pants, to reveal your panties, painted in red.

“Fuck, luv. Look at how you bleed.” He traced a finger over them, your breath hitching from the touch. The traces of blood on his fingers met his mouth, and his eyes revealed into hunger.

He kept rubbing his hands against your panties, licking the blood off of his fingers. He leaned in closer, and took a minute to smell the sweet slick and the sacred blood leaking out of you. He brushed his tongue over your panties, which had you mewling. 

“Fuck Damon–” He stopped using his tongue to spread that red paint over your panties like a canvas.

“hmm,princess?”

“please..” you whimpered, trailing off.

“Please, what?”

“Please, make me feel good.”

“Anything for my bunny.”

He ripped your panties off, allowing your cunt to shine red. He couldn't get enough of drinking your slick and blood.

You were wet and raw, all for him. He kissed your clit, loving and worshipping your bleeding pussy like it was holy. You were wide open for him, greedy girl. It's okay, he was going to take care of your aching hole.  

“Damon—” you gasped, hips twitching under his mouth.

“Say it again,” he growled, burying two fingers inside you without warning. You clenched around him, crying out. “Louder, angel. Let me feel how much you need this.”

You cried out louder. You looked so pretty sitting like that for him, legs wide open while you bleed. You made such a good singer for him when he made you hit all the right notes.

“Good girl” he growled, while curling his fingers up so well you scream again. He keeps playing with you, moving his fingers up and down, his hands pooling up the blood and pleasure from you, while his other hand circles your clit.

“D-Damon, I’m cl-mm- close” You say, legs quivering from stimulation. 

He takes his fingers out, the strings of your slick sticking to him. He took his fingers and put them in his mouth, savoring every lick. You miss his warmth in you, but that thought would be casted aside as he fits his tongue into your cunt. His tongue took every flavor in, his cock so hard he couldn't help but take out. Now that his hands were free, he started stroking from his tip to his shaft, but it didn't take long for him to cum. The way his nose was touching your clit as he fucked you with his tongue, how your pussy spasmed as you reached you peak on his tongue, his release was inevitable.

 You trembled beneath him, legs shaking, breath catching like your body couldn’t decide if it was overwhelmed or blessed. Damon pulled back slowly, lips stained red, eyes soft and wild all at once. He kissed the inside of your thigh—tender, reverent—then crawled up to you.

He didn't say anything at first. Just laid beside you, arms slipping around your waist, his mouth brushing your temple like a prayer.

"Still think I’m a monster?" he whispered.

You turned your head, eyelids fluttering shut, too blissed-out to lie.

"No. I never thought you were."

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 11: It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Summary: Two scientists yearn to open a portal to the afterlife. Studying both death magic and the science behind it, they make a portal never seen before. Sadly for them, it fails. Their youngest decides to see if he can fix it for them.

Ao3 link

It was a dark and stormy night in a far off isolated village. The sleepy village lay dormant that night, safe and warm in their beds. All but one pair of necromancer alchemists. Two adults, parents in name only, who are determined to find a way to the afterlife with a portal. The two worked tirelessly into the night, day after day and night after night. Nothing else matters for days at a time.

Their two kids raised each other. Protecting each other, caring for one another. Over the years as their parents lose themselves more and more with their research. One could even call it an obsession.

Their goals ranged from getting proof to capture to extermination of spirits and demons as a whole, already sure their unproven theories of their vileness were fact. Their two kids watched as it consumed them, experiencing only small doses of attention and affection when they remember other things exist outside of their work.

The elder child was smart and studious. Always trying to figure out how people work to make sense of their upbringing. Constantly trying to help even when not wanted. She was the 'normal' one. Happy and seemingly well adjusted, she was still shunned by the town. Only paid attention to when helping someone else or decrying her parents for acceptance. Her smarts in the 'right' ways made her the golden child. A privileged which allowed her to criticize them to their face and they'd sometimes listen.

The younger, smart in his own right, believed in his parents like many young children do. The small village didn't like that and encouraged, or at times just enabled, other young children to torment him. The belief waned as he aged but it was too late in the villagers' eyes. The ignored son of the town fools.

The young boy loved the stars and desired to go there himself when he was grown. An aspiring astral mage and scientist, two feeling interlinked to him. A desire for the unknown and to mix magic and science made him more alike to his parents than he would like to admit.

The boy had two friends, a techomage and a maiden of the green. One friend constantly wants to advance what they have and the other wants to enhance and preserve the natural world.

On one stormy night in particular, the two 'town crazies' celebrated their crowning achievement. A portal. One to connect the mortal realm and the one of the dead. It was the thing they are most proud of ever making. Over a decade in the making.

They brought their children into their workshop to show them the portal activation.

...

It failed to work.

The researchers fell into a depression from said failure. Doing barely more than the bare minimum of self care, let alone any care for their kids.

Such a disheartening sight deeply saddened the boy. His sister did all she could to get the two to leave the lab and house, claiming it would be good for them to take a break. But the boy saw how hurt they were that their passion project they spent all their time on failed. All that work, all that neglect, over the years. For nothing.

He wanted to check out the portal runes and tech they intermingled together. His friends wanted to join him, curious and wanting to help.

The three snooped where they weren't supposed to. The workshop, abandoned as it was, felt like a void. An unwelcoming void full of dangerous potions and spell work mixed with wires and circuitry everywhere they look.

The portal itself was a deep, cavernous maw in the wall surrounded by wires and metal and strange, necromantic- otherworldly even- runes. A void threatening to consume all who enter.

Activation runes are all over the inside, covered in wires that were hidden by the void. Shadows drawing in all light, beckoning those into its dark abyss. A warning and a siren's call.

His friends checked its outside in case the adults missed anything. The boy wanted to see if he could fix it on the inside, knowing the most on how his parents' stuff worked.

He put on protective gear his parents had lying around their workshop, just his size. His parents always wanted their kids to join them in their work.

Taking a deep breath and into the unnatural cavern he went.

Shadows loom and the black void deepens on his trek into the man made abyss. Unsecured wires litter the floor, causing him to trip multiple times as he goes in blind. Human eyes no longer working the deeper he goes.

So deep, where he could no longer hear his friends, he found runes etched into the walls. They were there before, at the start, but have increased in quantity. Etches have become grooves in the walls to the now sightless boy. Only able to tell what rune they were due to familiarity.

He cut himself on one of the runes, the deep grooves sharp and unsafe even for the protection he put on before. At least, that's what he thought occurred.

One more trip given to him by the wires endangering the walkway and his now bloody hand hit the wall to catch himself.

The rune lit up.

Man made cave once darker than night lit up in an unearthly green and the boy knew this would be it. He's too deep to get out in time.

Death energy and electricity converged onto him, the conduit who activated it.

All was green and agony.

[elcias-diary]

It wasn't a dark and stormy night. It should have been, but that's the weather for you. For every mad scientist who's had a convenient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor clocks up the overtime.

[gennsoup]

I am the scholar of the dark armchair. Branches and rain hurl themselves at the windows of my library.

Arthur Rimbaud, Childhood

[otsmosis]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)

Relationship: Alastor/Lucifer Magne | Morningstar

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Cherri Bomb (Hazbin Hotel), Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Niffty (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags: RadioApple, Appleradio, Established Relationship, Established Alastor/Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Halloween Costumes, Storms, Kissing in the Rain, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Radioapple Trick-or-Treat Week

Language: English

Series: ← Previous Work Part 4 of Trick or treat?

Words: 2,410

Chapters: 1/1

[richerthantruth]

[confetti-critter]

[halloweensongbracket]

Halloween Song Bracket

Please listen to both songs before voting.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Oh My Goth!

[53rdham]

It was a dark and stormy night. Except it was neither stormy nor night, which makes it all the more concerning why it was dark. It had been about three days since the moon covered the sun. Well, at first we thought it was the moon then, after 10 minutes of total darkness, chaos descended. People were convinced the apocalypse was here. Governments collapsed as people rioted the entire earth was shrouded in darkness as a way that it has never been and never will be again.

Not sure where this is going or if it's going anywhere at all. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[burnwater13]

Grogu watched his dad like a hawk for the rest of that day. IG-11-M had gone back to performing his primary functions, which meant he went back to the Marshal’s office and collected data on criminal activities in the surrounding systems. Nothing criminal occurred anymore on Nevarro. Not with an assassin droid as a marshal.

Din Djarin seemed fine. He had cleaned up the caf mess, made Grogu a fresh bowl of freeze dried froglets, without the blue milk this time, and finished making his own costume for the festivities that evening. He would’t show it to Grogu because he wanted it to be a surprise. Grogu wasn’t very happy about that, but, if that’s what his dad wanted, that was fine. His problem was he really didn’t trust that Din Djarin wasn’t still affected by the Sith flu. Sith were sneaky and that bothered Grogu. 

But, since he could do nothing about that for the time being, he worked on his chores. First, Grogu checked on his costume. He was going as Kuiil and wanted to make sure that everything was ready because he didn’t want to mess it up during the day. Then he looked at his story telling notes and spent some time refining the plots and characters. He was pretty sure that if a story was about a giant chicken, there should be a giant nest, but should there be a second giant chicken? Normally, he asked his dad things like that, but he didn’t want cause any problems. The bounty hunter might not find giant chickens scary at all.

They ate lunch at lunch time and did some general outdoor chores and decorated the cabin. That took some time because his dad said he couldn’t use the Force to help them. Apparently the Mandalorian thought that the Force itself had caused the symptoms of Grogu having Sith flu and didn’t want that to mess them up. Grogu had agree reluctantly. He hadn’t used the Force on his dad that morning and Din Djarin had still consumed a whole big spoonful of mushy froglets in blue milk. 

Grogu wished he’d thought to take a vid of that happening. He could project it on the wall during the story telling later that night. He could imagine the parents finding it gross in a bad way and all the kids finding it gross in a funny way. Grogu would have found it funny if he hadn’t been so concerned about his dad. Oh well. 

Finally, they were ready to go into Nevarro City. Grogu was all dressed up and looked so much like Kuiil that his dad called him that when he saw him. 

“Kuiil, have you seen Grogu? We have to get over to the civic offices now.” 

The Mandalorian had been perfectly serious and Grogu giggled at him.

“Oh, is that you, Grogu? Wow. You really had me convinced I was talking to Kuiil. Do you have everything, including your lucky charm?”

Lucky charm? Oh. His dad must be been talking about the silver ball! After he had taken it from his dad when they were chatting with Ahsoka Tano, the Mandalorian had told her that Grogu treated that knob like it was a lucky charm. Ahsoka had smiled at that. Grogu was pretty sure that she knew that Din Djarin was his lucky charm and that he just really liked having something that reminded him of his dad, because it was shiny like his armor. 

Grogu quickly checked his pockets. Nope. It wasn’t there. He ran to his bedroom. Nope. Not there either. Dank Farrik! Did he leave it in Nevarro City at the civic offices? He didn’t think so. Maybe he left it in his dad’s room? He trotted off to check on that while the Mandalorian moved the last bits of stuff they were taking with them to the speeder.

Sure enough, the silver ball was sitting next to some bit of rock on Din Djarin’s workstation. Grogu grabbed both items and stuffed them into one of his many pockets. He’d no idea that Kuiil’s daily wear required him to have so many pockets, but if that’s what it took, than all the better for him. 

Grogu met his dad at the speeder and noticed that the bounty hunter wasn’t wearing his costume. Grogu asked him if he’d forgotten it. 

“No. I have it stowed away. I’ll change into it once we arrive. R5 will help you do the final set up. I think you’ll really like my costume.”

Grogu nodded his head and they were off. 

When they arrived at the civic offices Grogu was excited to see all the people who were there, wearing costumes and helping with the event. Greef Karga was front and center and, instead of wearing his typical costume of the High Magistrate, he was wearing a sparkly red and white striped hat, which matched his sparkly red and white striped coat and the long blue and white sparkly pants that seemed quite baggy. You couldn’t miss him and once you saw him, you’d never forget him. Grogu was impressed. 

“Well my friends, we’ve done it! People are already going through the ‘fright factory’ and they really seem to like it. The protocol droids are keeping that sorted out. We’ll be starting the story telling as soon as you're ready Mando. And… little one, I am happy to tell you a couple of your friends decided to stop by and grace Nevarro with their presence. Now, they want to surprise you, so just keep your eyes open. Don’t just use those magic hands of yours.”

The High Magistrate seemed very happy and Grogu was glad about that, but he wondered who had come all the way to Nevarro to see him? He hadn’t checked his datapad to see if his ‘Sith-alike’ alter ego had sent out any other messages. Oh, no! What if he’d invited Dr. Pershing? Or Moff Gideon’s second in command? What if he’d accidentally invited the horrible spider critters from the ice cube moon they crashed on that time? 

He was so distracted by those thoughts that he didn’t even notice his dad slip away to change into his costume. Womp rats! Grogu slipped his hand into his pocket so he could hold the silver ball. It really was a lucky charm for him and he knew he would feel better if he was holding it. 

But it wasn’t in the first pocket he checked, or the second, or even the third. Dang. Why did the Kuiil costume have to have so many pockets? Then he checked another pocket and found something smooth and cool to the touch. But it wasn’t the silver ball. Uff. It must be that rock he picked up from his dad’s room with the ball. Then Grogu began to cackle. Excellent. It was all going to plan.

Grogu surveyed the space again and saw the storytellers' throne. He rubbed his hands together and marched right over to it. This was his place and this was where he would meet his subjects and sway them to his purpose. The Empire was in a shambles and he was going to rally the people of Nevarro to support him and bring order to the Galaxy. He laughed again and the sound of his cackling certainly attracted some attention. That was good right?

He sat on the throne and flipped the switch to the sound system that the High Magistrate had thoughtfully installed.

“It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder crashed and lightning filled the sky with bright flashes of my wrath!”

Then Grogu lifted his left hand and blue lighting snapped and crackled from it. He vaguely heard someone call out ‘Dank Farrik’ and was about to continue his appeal to his subjects when he heard a familiar voice.

“You are gravely mistaken.”

A man in an almost black cloak stepped forward, his hood obscuring his face and his black gloves highlighting that he was holding the hilt of a shiny silver lightsaber. 

“Oh, no, my young Jedi. You will find that it is you who are 

mistaken...about a great many things.”

“This little one isn’t worth the effort.” 

Another hooded human walked up, dressed in light brown and tan robes. The sash and the shiny knurled hilt of a lightsaber gave away the identify of this Jedi: Obi-Wan Kenobi, back for another battle. 

What the heck? Where were these Jedi coming from? Hadn’t he gotten rid of them all?

“Hey, Mando! What in the seven sisters of Sullust is goin’ on here? I came just like the little one asked me to.” 

Peli Motto? Peli was here! Yippee! Uh, ugh, another part of his plan was falling into place.

“Listen you two, he’s got something in his right hand. I think that’s your problem, but I don’t think I’m the one who should fix it.” 

Fennec Shand spoke from behind her spotting scope. Her voice was calm, cool, and collected. Good. Good. Wait, what? She was supposed to be on his side!

With that, a bunch of things happened all at once. Emperor Grogu held up his hands so he could zappity, zap anyone who got too close, but he hadn’t taken into account that two Jedi could overpower him quite so easily. Apparently Obi-Wan had learned that he was ticklish. That wasn’t fair! And Luke had simply taken the rock out of his hand and crushed it. 

“Grogu, buddy? Are you okay now?” 

His dad was talking to him. How was Din Djarin doing that? He wasn’t even there!

Obi-Wan pushed his hood back and Grogu saw a familiar face. An actual face. Not a helmet. Not a mask. But his dad’s face. He jumped into Din Dajrin’s arms and hugged him tight. 

“So what was that thing the kid was holdin’?” Peli asked, as she walked closer to the ‘throne’ and offered Grogu some hard candy lozenges. 

“That was a bone from one of the clones that Moff Gideon had been cultivating here in that old lab. Grogu must have found it somewhere.” 

Luke pushed his own hood down as he answered Peli’s question. 

“Well, let’s check the kid’s eyes and see if all that Sithyness is gone. I prefer brown eyes to red ones.” 

Fennec was always the practical one and very sweet.

“Mando! That was amazing. Everyone loved it. Let’s get to the next story. You should have ended the show with that one. It’s going to be hard to top.” Greef Karga bustled up to them. 

“I think I can help with that.” 

Luke turned to crowd, as Grogu just hugged his dad and Din Djarin hugged him back.

“A long time ago, in a galaxy, far, far away…”

[jugheadvarchoni]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗 “𝚁𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚎-𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝” 🥰

[canonical-transformation]

It was a dark and stormy night. It was always a dark and stormy night in Immernachtstadt. The rain fell in torrents— except at occasional intervals, when suddenly a shot rang out, a door slammed, a maid screamed, or a pirate ship appeared on the horizon.

—No Bird an Island, Chapter 96.

(Wait, you already guessed Fischl was narrating? What do you mean? This is high quality grimdark prose.)

[sohannabarberaesque]

"It was a dark and misty night ..." (apologies to Bulwer-Lytton and Snoopy)

And against such a milieu could be found a campfire beside a campsite shared by as much Captain Caveman as his Slag Brothers cousins, Rock and Gravel, basically going through another of their prehistoric-stylee bonding rituals befitting their prehistoric looks and background. A campfire which included roasting from fresh-caught wild rabbits and squirrels and drinking sassafras tea.

The mist, obviously, felt rather cool in contrast to the campfire's warmth to the hairy bodies of the three prehistorically hairy and at once passionate cousins on a camping session. And in classic prehistoric manner, lore seemed to dominate--in this case, lore of someone not unlike Bigfoot or Sasquatch (though for the sake of this story, Bigfoot will be used) approaching them on a campout previous and--let Cavey open up the story here:

"Unga-unga-bunga ... Bigfoot approach me on woodland trail. Bigfoot looked rather hairy like us, but more simian-looking. Some reason had her walking rather casual and close to us, not menacing type otherwise associate with Bigfoot!"

"How you know it was a she-Bigfoot?" asked Gravel, with Captain Caveman responding "How else--massive drooping breasts, smell of need inmost!"

"Yeah, Gravel and I took notice, too!" Rock was quick to add. "Wanted us to play with her; admitted she needed love companion!"

"Assume this Bigfoot thought we were possible mates of hers from Bigfoot tribe," Cavey chimed in. "Nearly felt unnerved ... but smell coming from between legs revealed Inner Need of hers!"

"Recognise as one for love!" was how Gravel explained it.

"Sight of she-Bigfoot enough to arouse us between legs!" Rock added, with Cavey adding "Obviously felt good, and then some!"

"She-Bigfoot felt it best we take turns," Gravel chimed in, "Cavey going first!"

Cavey: "What warmth inside her vagina! What wondrous ejaculation! Seemed almost like hour went by, and felt so delighted, so much so that Bigfoot groaned out in satisfaction! Rubbed top of my head for good luck! Gravel, how your experience go?"

"What relaxing experience feeling myself letting loose! Rock--?"

"Couldn't resist squeeze breasts of Bigfoot ahead of lovemaking! She especially liked it ... and feeling was almost explosive, as if showing I hadn't had sex in long time!!"

"In end, unga-bunga ... she-Bigfoot liked company, and especially our interest in make love with her. Followed by swim in nearby lake after love show, wet dreams galore underwater, Bigfoot even helped us find clams for supper and wampum!"

"Never resist power of love fascination!" exclaimed Rock.

And between all, the fire's warmth against the cool dampness of the evening's mistiness produced an interesting sort of warmth which meant that the three prehistorics couldn't resist swapping further tales well into the evening....

Next week, Fanfic Friday will be off in deference to the Thanksgiving weekend break. The next such will be in a fortnight's time, on December 6th.

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @funtasticworld @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu @jellystone-enjoyer @iheartgod175 @archive-archives @hanna-barbera-blog @hanna-barberians @hanna-barbera-land @warnerbros-blog1 @railguner34 @theweekenddigest @multi-fandom-girl-451 @groovybribri @warnerbrosent-blog

[vivian-at-home]

I feel like you have deserted me. I write, I call, I send texts but you never reply. It's almost like you're not there anymore, I just don't know where you might be. I hope one day I can see you again, until then I remember the times our spirits moved us . . . .

Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry written c. March 1920