School's! Out! For! Summer!
Jun. 2nd, 2012 01:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
were_lemurHard Job
Dresden Files, Harry Dresden, teen and up, not mine. Harry's been hit by a spell. CRACK!
The spell I'd been hit with wasn't dangerous -- unless you counted the risk of being arrested if I lost concentration -- but it was inconvenient.
Not to mention uncomfortable.
I barely managed to limp down the stairs to my apartment before I had to stop and relieve the pressure. That bought me enough time to get down to my subbasement lab.
"Bob!" I called, as my hand settled on the affected part of my anatomy. Again. "I need a cure for a lust spell, yesterday!"
The spirit burst out laughing, so hard that his skull rocked on the shelf.
"Not helping!"
Alone in the Wilds
Lord of the Rings, Aragorn(Arwen), mature, not mine. Aragorn misses Arwen.
Aragorn spends months at a time in the wild, sometimes with his fellow Rangers, but more often alone. He's used to it; the wilderness is as much his home as Rivendell.
It's only during the long nights that he feels the loneliness. When he misses his friends, who are very close to being family.
But most of all, he misses Arwen.
It's on nights like that when he leans back into the grass and imagines he's with her, that she's running her hands over his chest, across his belly, and then down to wrap her elegant fingers around his cock.
Mutual
Doctor Who, First Doctor/Second Doctor/Third Doctor/Fourth Doctor/Fifth Doctor/Sixth Doctor/Seventh Doctor/Eighth Doctor/Ninth Doctor/Tenth Doctor/Eleventh Doctor, mature, not mine. How NOT to cause a paradox. CRACK!
"We shouldn't," the Doctor's lanky tenth incarnation says.
"It could cause a paradox," his blond fifth self agrees.
"There are things that we could do without touching," says the one with the umbrella. The silver-haired regeneration pulls his cock out of velvet trousers. The gangly version with the bowtie grins, and undoes his own zip. That earns a grin from the Doctor with the bowl-cut and an insouciant shrug from the one in the patchwork coat.
His eighth self nervously undoes his cravat; his fourth doesn't even bother unwrapping his scarf. His first grins broadly at the one in leather.
Busting Loose
Doctor Who, female!Doctor, teen and up, not mine. The Doctor gains new respect for his female companions.
As he raced for the safety of the TARDIS, the Doctor had a new sympathy for his female companions. It wasn't easy, running with breasts.
Especially considering that his suit didn't have support for his rather ... unexpected endowments.
He heard running footsteps, signaling the approach of the people who had caused the situation by shooting him in exactly the spot to take out both of his hearts.
"They want any remaining intruders alive!" a voice called behind him.
This was no time for dignity; he clapped his hands over the new parts of his anatomy, and ran for his lives.
Dresden Files, Harry Dresden, teen and up, not mine. Harry's been hit by a spell. CRACK!
The spell I'd been hit with wasn't dangerous -- unless you counted the risk of being arrested if I lost concentration -- but it was inconvenient.
Not to mention uncomfortable.
I barely managed to limp down the stairs to my apartment before I had to stop and relieve the pressure. That bought me enough time to get down to my subbasement lab.
"Bob!" I called, as my hand settled on the affected part of my anatomy. Again. "I need a cure for a lust spell, yesterday!"
The spirit burst out laughing, so hard that his skull rocked on the shelf.
"Not helping!"
Alone in the Wilds
Lord of the Rings, Aragorn(Arwen), mature, not mine. Aragorn misses Arwen.
Aragorn spends months at a time in the wild, sometimes with his fellow Rangers, but more often alone. He's used to it; the wilderness is as much his home as Rivendell.
It's only during the long nights that he feels the loneliness. When he misses his friends, who are very close to being family.
But most of all, he misses Arwen.
It's on nights like that when he leans back into the grass and imagines he's with her, that she's running her hands over his chest, across his belly, and then down to wrap her elegant fingers around his cock.
Mutual
Doctor Who, First Doctor/Second Doctor/Third Doctor/Fourth Doctor/Fifth Doctor/Sixth Doctor/Seventh Doctor/Eighth Doctor/Ninth Doctor/Tenth Doctor/Eleventh Doctor, mature, not mine. How NOT to cause a paradox. CRACK!
"We shouldn't," the Doctor's lanky tenth incarnation says.
"It could cause a paradox," his blond fifth self agrees.
"There are things that we could do without touching," says the one with the umbrella. The silver-haired regeneration pulls his cock out of velvet trousers. The gangly version with the bowtie grins, and undoes his own zip. That earns a grin from the Doctor with the bowl-cut and an insouciant shrug from the one in the patchwork coat.
His eighth self nervously undoes his cravat; his fourth doesn't even bother unwrapping his scarf. His first grins broadly at the one in leather.
Busting Loose
Doctor Who, female!Doctor, teen and up, not mine. The Doctor gains new respect for his female companions.
As he raced for the safety of the TARDIS, the Doctor had a new sympathy for his female companions. It wasn't easy, running with breasts.
Especially considering that his suit didn't have support for his rather ... unexpected endowments.
He heard running footsteps, signaling the approach of the people who had caused the situation by shooting him in exactly the spot to take out both of his hearts.
"They want any remaining intruders alive!" a voice called behind him.
This was no time for dignity; he clapped his hands over the new parts of his anatomy, and ran for his lives.
