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Polar Explorer RPF - Prompt Post 1
This is for prompts for all things general Polar Explorer RPF.
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
Under this umbrella you can prompt:
Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should).
No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.
Rules:
Regular view: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html
Regular view, last page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?page=999#comments
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
Under this umbrella you can prompt:
- Historical versions of Franklin Expedition(-adjacent) guys (Rossier, Gore/McClure, etc)
- Madhouse at the End of the Earth/Belgica Expedition
- Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration - Shackleton, Scott, Amundsen, Mawson
- Andrée Expedition
- Karluk Expedition
- etc
Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should).
No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.
Rules:
1. Be fucking nice. YKINMATO/KINKTOMATO at all times.
2. This meme is CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) but warnings are highly encouraged.
3. Prompts should use this format in the subject line: [SHIP], [DESCRIPTION]
e.g.
Mertz/Ninnis, sex crying
Solo gen can be prompted as well alongside (a) character name and description
e.g.
Gen, Emil Racovitza, discovering a crazy new fish
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
e.g.
Fill: The Very Next Day, Cherry/Birdie, E, cw self-harm
5. One prompt per comment please.
6. Multiple fills for each prompt are welcome!
7. You don't have to be anon for your prompts or your fills but we do encourage it because of the vibe. You're also welcome to deanon your stuff by posting on AO3/Tumblr as you please!
8. Feedback on prompts and fills is AWESOME; please take longer conversations to the discussion post.
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Fill: Kathleen Scott/Oriana Wilson, pegging + cunnilingus, E, no warnings
(Anonymous) 2022-10-09 11:21 pm (UTC)(link)It had been all too easy to persuade their elderly hostess to hand her the keys to Kathleen’s suite. Ory suspects that she is afraid of the both of them, waiting for them to reveal themselves as anything more than tame cats. Kathleen’s already come close to giving the game away, with the way she clung to that young South African at dinner.
Ory raps thrice against the open door with a gloved hand.
Kathleen stirs at once, on guard. Ory notices that her hair is still pinned up as it was last night at the banquet. She’s only wearing her slip. She doesn’t bother pulling the rug up over her chest, pink peeking through the translucent weave of the cotton.
“Tea in town. With Mrs. Evans,” Ory says, by way of explanation.
Kathleen props herself up on her elbows and blinks. “We scheduled that for two o’clock.”
“It is two o’clock.”
“Christ.” Kathleen is up instantly, shouldering past Ory as she begins the search for her discarded garments in the sitting room.
“You two are the reason I haven’t slept.” Kathleen snatches up a stocking. “First, putting an end to Hilda’s hysterics. I had to read to her for hours. Then pacifying you, in the stern–”
“I didn’t need pacifying. You simply wanted to make yourself feel useful.” Ory watches dispassionately as Kathleen extracts the second stocking from beneath a cabinet.
Kathleen scowls. “I rise to the occasion. That’s all.”
“You like taking care of people. That, I understand. You also like starting fires so you can put them out again.”
Kathleen stops dead in her tracks. “What a perfectly absurd thing to say.”
“I’ve never heard you hold back when it comes to absurdity.”
Kathleen recovers a plain pearl earring from the rug. “You can come to my room and accuse me of whatever you’d like. But the truth is we only keep these appointments for the sake of your own nerves.”
Ory steps onto the rug with her boots, closing the distance. She’d never do this in her own house. She enjoys the way Kathleen recoils with disgust. Kathleen has always found her to be disarmingly clean.
“As if you didn’t make appointments of your own the very day they left.”
“I cannot possibly know what you mean-”
“As if no one saw you crawl off with that man last night, after dinner.”
“You poor thing.” Kathleen focuses her attention in her reflection in the vanity as she attempts to salvage her hair. “You must know that Con does not mind a thing I do, so long as I don’t get talked about.”
“I guessed as much. That’s not what I came here to discuss.”
“You, on the other hand, are alone in the world. And that is why we get tea every week.”
“I never know what to make of it.”
“Of what?”
“Whether you know it or not. How lonely you are.”
Kathleen meets her eye in the mirror.
“I want you to admit that it’s not tea that either of us need at the moment. Nor sleep.” The tip of Ory’s boot comes into contact with something. It’s the other pearl earring, discarded. She rolls it under her foot absentmindedly. Kathleen watches her.
“I hope you know what you are volunteering yourself for.”
“No one will talk.” Ory shrugs. “What would they have to say?”
It isn’t until Kathleen is deep inside of her that she recognizes that this must be part of the arrangement she has with her husband. She tenses around the artificial cock. Of course, Kathleen can’t feel it. Ory’s hand flies back and latches onto Kathleen’s hip as she seeks purchase.
“I love your back,” Kathleen says silkily. “You should have kept your hair up.” Kathleen brushes her hands up through Ory’s damp curls, revealing the length of her neck. She smoothes the muscles of her back down with her sculptor’s hand. It’s still warm from the sun.
“That’s why you wanted me like this,” Ory gasps against the pillow. Kathleen’s weight flattens her against the mattress. There isn’t enough room for her to snake her hand down beneath herself, leaving her aching,
“You wanted it,” Kathleen hisses into her ear. “No wonder you didn’t cry when he left you.”
“Please don’t bring them up. Not if you want me to–”
Kathleen picks up the pace and they sink further into the old mattress. Ory concedes that Kathleen is correct, this time. She fucks her like an angry young man, pulls at her hair like a schoolground tyrant. Ory has avoided either experience her whole life by being very good.
“It’s what he likes, too.” Kathleen fakes detachment through her breathlessness.
Ory clutches at the pillow as Kathleen drives in deeper than anything she’s used to. The punishment is the aim. “Fuck him,” she manages, deliriously.
Kathleen stills entirely within her. Ory groans against the dusty sheets..
“You’re being a terribly vulgar girl,” Kathleen teases. Her hand skirts Ory’s waist, but she doesn’t move it an inch lower.
“Fuck you. Move.”
Kathleen laughs and sinks her teeth into her neck. It’s enough for Ory to hoist the both of them back up in one swift movement. She guides Kathleen’s elegant fingers where she wants them. All too soon, she feels her entire body twitch with a finality, spasming around the intrusion. She’s quiet with concentration. She doesn’t even dare breathe through it. Her climax hits her all the way to the gnawing want in her belly, a satisfaction she hasn’t felt in a long time.
Kathleen allows her to lay boneless against the sheets for a few minutes before slipping out. Ory doesn’t even move when Kathleen redoubles in her affections against the back of her neck, the interfering object disposed of.
“No wonder you didn’t cry,” Kathleen repeats, with a quiet pride.
“You don’t know anything about me.” Ory turns to face her, not without considerable effort. “Don’t start thinking that you do.” She’s suddenly aware of her spend dripping down her backside, sullying Kathleen’s sheets.
Kathleen smiles catlike, an inch above Ory’s face. “Then show me what you are.”
Ory wastes no time. This was a scheduled appointment, after all.
She mouths hungrily at the pink of her breasts, the pink traces of stretch marks that line her lower belly. Ory loves the way Kathleen flexes beneath her attention, muscles leaping wildly. Unlike Ory, Kathleen is quite loud. Ory privately hopes that their hostess lies awake in the room below them. She hopes she is afraid. She has no recourse against the reputation of two exemplary officer’s wives.
“You told your husband that you found me too womanly.” Ory breathes against her thighs. She studies the shape of her with curiosity. It ultimately seems more familiar to her than alien. “Do you still feel that way?”
“How could you know that?” Kathleen squirms against her, flexing her things. Ory patiently pries them back open.
“I’ve been his friend longer than you have. He confides in me.”
There’s real anger to the way Kathleen sinks her nails back into Ory’s long, dark hair, pulling at the roots. “I’ve told him to be more discerning. He’s too good for half of the rabble he speaks to.”
“But you’re not too good for this.” Ory rests her damp cheek against the hot core of Kathleen’s desire. Kathleen ruts up against her impatiently.
“I thought so.” Ory brushes a thumb indifferently against Kathleen’s sex.
“Please,” Kathleen implores. “Please shut your damned mouth.” It’s almost sweet, the way she says it.
“Now you know how I feel about you most of the time.” She sinks down onto her slick cunt.
It doesn’t take much to draw more noise out of her, the experimental application and release of pressure, like the push and pull of the sea. At each retreat, Kathleen reels her back in with her hands, the heel of her stockinged foot against her back. It occurs to Ory that this is what Kathleen loves; to be an anchor. Ory slips her fingers inside of her as a retort. A way of fixing herself in Kathleen’s life.
Ory maintains her torturous rhythm, but even so it isn’t long before she gets Kathleen to cry out her whole name. Orianna. She likes the way it sounds, in this empty room. Ory laps up her release as Kathleen shudders at the surfeit of stimulus.
“If only they could see us now,” Kathleen says, when they’ve both regained their breath. Ory is still nestled between Kathleen’s hips, head heavy.
“They will never hear of it.”
“Or dream of it.”
Ory hauls herself up until she lies against Kathleen’s chest. Kathleen is too weary to protest, threading a hand through her hair absentmindedly.
Ory imagines the two of them on a ship at sea. Kathleen is a terrible sailor; she would need to be looked after. Ory smiles at the thought, but does not open her eyes.
“I suppose not. They are quite unadventurous.”
Re: Fill: Kathleen Scott/Oriana Wilson, pegging + cunnilingus, E, no warnings
(Anonymous) 2022-10-10 12:50 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Kathleen Scott/Oriana Wilson, pegging + cunnilingus, E, no warnings
(Anonymous) 2022-10-11 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)