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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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Teddy Evans/any, magical body changes
(Anonymous) 2022-11-24 10:28 am (UTC)(link)FILL: The Antarctic Rose, Evans/Crean/Lashly, magical body changes, wet and messy, E [1/2]
(Anonymous) 2022-11-29 08:59 am (UTC)(link)Atkinson was utterly unperturbed. “As doctor it is my responsibility to prevent harm to all expedition members, which includes you, sir, and it is my medical opinion that there are far too many dangerously complicating factors, were you to stay here in the midst of the entire crew. It’s simply not safe.”
Teddy found this utterly insulting, even given the circumstances. “You can’t fix this here?”
“Lieutenant,” said Atkinson. White-hot anger flickered in Teddy’s chest watching the barest hint of a smirk curl around the title. “I can’t fix this at all. It is, in my professional opinion, quite beyond me. What remains to be done is for you to recover somewhere away from prying eyes. Surely you can agree that would be preferable?” He made an expansive gesture towards the rest of the hut beyond Teddy’s nook; at the moment, Griff was currently engaged in one of his endless and loud cags with Marie Nelson on the eternal subject of women’s suffrage. Griff for, Marie against, naturally; the biologist’s misogynist tendencies seemed only to have been made more intense by a long winter with only male company.
Admittedly it did not sound like the worst idea, put that way. However, he balked when Atkinson, observing Teddy begin to get dressed, insisted that he needed an escort. “I haven’t come over sick,” Teddy snapped. “I feel perfectly well, apart from—I mean to say, fifteen miles in fine spring weather, I can make it on my own.”
Atkinson chewed on his pipe. Christ, he was enjoying this, wasn’t he? “Loss of muscle tone, shift in center of gravity, changes in blood circulation and distribution of body fat. Psychological and hormonal effects unknown. To say nothing of nutrition and appetite. Regardless of if you can make it, it wouldn’t be wise.”
Shut up, Teddy wished fervently, shut up. His boots weren’t fitting properly; he angrily tugged on a few extra pairs of socks to make up the difference. He did not actually want to sledge fifteen miles on his own. He wanted to curl up in his own bed and sleep, then wake to find all of this madness had been a particularly bad nightmare brought on by Clissold’s curry. “Fine,” he said eventually. “Crean and Lashly shall come with me. They have little enough to do. And they can return together in the morning.”
“Excellent. I’ll inform them now. I myself will come to you after Scott and Wilson return from the Western Mountains—it shouldn’t be long now. Reach me by the telephone if you recover before then and feel up to setting off back here alone.”
Assembled outside the hut, Crean and Lashly did not seem to notice anything amiss, thanks to the conveniently oversized sledging gear which covered Teddy top to bottom and muffled his voice. “Fine day for it, sir,” Crean said cheerily as he harnessed up. “A pity we’re only going so far as the Discovery hut.”
“Strap those down well, Lashly,” Teddy said automatically, pointing at the crates of dog biscuits on the sledge, which provided as good a flimsy excuse as any for their impromptu trip.
It seemed an eternity of Lashly looking his way before his gruff “Yes, sir,” emerged from his windproof hood. Could he tell? Had Teddy given the game away already? He resolved to adopt an Oatesian approach to unecessary talk for the rest of the day’s journey south.
The sea ice held, as did the weather; when they camped for a midday meal on the south side of the Tongue, Teddy’s stomach eagerly made its desire for some of Lashly’s excellent hoosh known, but for the life of him he could not figure out how to go about partaking without giving himself away. He ate an old biscuit from his pocket and then told Crean he wasn’t hungry.
“Really, sir? Sure that hoosh is going to be the best thing you’ll taste all week, and Lash will be mighty disappointed… well, alright. We’ll be off again in only a few.”
They reached Hut Point quickly enough after that; Teddy had been right, he could’ve gotten there just fine alone, in practically perfect weather conditions. But he was feeling—odd, underneath his layers of outerwear, and found the sight of Lashly and Crean unpacking the sledge outside the hut, hauling crates around like they weighed barely anything, gave him a full-body feeling which must have been relief. He might turn into a penguin next, and then surely he’d be glad to have them around.
He slept a bit that night, but after a few hours awoke with that odd feeling again, which might have just been burning curiosity, but had him restless and tingling. He had not done a full self-examination yesterday, after all; he had cringed away, unable to bear looking as Atkinson surveyed the situation in his detached medical manner. The seamen were safely ensconced in the northwest corner of the hut, laid out in their bags; Teddy deemed it safe to strip down.
This little berth, with its packing-crate walls, had been dubbed Virtue Villa when the combined depot and Western parties had lived in the hut for a lonely month earlier that year. Ironic that now it was a den of depravity, as Teddy gingerly poked and prodded at himself by lamplight.
It was the natural thing to do, but Teddy ought not to have taken it so far. Only, he couldn’t help himself, he had to, he’d been dying to try all day, and before he knew it he was letting out one moan and then another, forgetting himself completely, forgetting the way sound echoed in this place…
“Mr. Evans? Are you—alright…” Lashly trailed off. He and Crean were crowded in the door of Virtue Villa. They saw, lit efficiently and brightly by the lamp within, its sole occupant.
A girl of about thirty, no slender ravishing beauty, but all the same a girl, sturdy and pale, blanket slipped down to her stomach to reveal fair-sized breasts, with pink nipples peaking in the cold of the hut. Her short and unkempt hair must have given her the look of a recovering consumptive, which was quite at odds with the healthy glow of her clear and unblemished skin. Her labored breathing and flushed face, combined with her hand still hidden below the blanket, clearly betokened an intimate moment interrupted.
Crean swept Teddy up and down with his sharp, creased eyes. He whispered something to Lashly; Lashly nodded.
Then Crean said, quite matter-of-factly, “Is that you, Mr. Evans?”
Teddy understood what he was asking. He had the merest moment to decide what to do.
For if he said—yes, it’s me—they would leave. Crean and Lashly both would treat it as an order from their commanding officer, go back to their berth to sleep, and depart in the morning, acknowledging nothing other than their duty, like the loyal men they were. Teddy knew that; he knew the minds of his men like his own. It was a long-standing point of pride.
And he knew what they would do if he said no.
There was a vein which seemed to jump in Crean’s strong jaw. His shoulders were set confidently, awaiting a reply. He only had on his white cotton undershirt, through which the muscles of his chest were prominent. Beside him Lashly was still in his gray wool jumper, the dark pocket at its center stretched out by the breadth of the ribcage beneath. They were both very large men.
Is that you?
Teddy slowly and deliberately shook his head.
FILL: The Antarctic Rose, Evans/Crean/Lashly, magical body changes, wet and messy, E [2/2]
(Anonymous) 2022-11-29 09:10 am (UTC)(link)“Maybe she got lost on the way to the shops,” suggested Lashly. He was putting on a voice now a bit like a Dickens villain in a pantomime, which caused Crean to elbow him and exact a muttered “Sorry.” Lashly pushed off from the lintel and crossed the small berth to where Teddy was curled and sat down on the edge of the cot. With one hand he lifted Teddy’s chin and stared into his eyes; then turned Teddy’s head this way and that, running a thick thumb along his jawline and the shell of his ear.
Teddy let out a low moan. The heat of Lashly’s body so close to his was intoxicating. More than anything he was simply cold; not only naked but more naked than usual, with a stone less flesh on him than he’d had a day ago. The heat throbbing in his day-old cunt did not come close to reaching his extremities.
“How’s she fare, Lash?” said Crean from the door.
“She’s in fine nick, for how far she must’ve traveled to get here and surprise us like this,” Lashly said, smiling.
“Mhm,” said Crean. “I’ve heard stranger tales.”
“Mouth like a flower and eyes of a doe. Don’t think I could have ordered one more beautiful if I’d had a catalog laid out for me.”
He sounded genuinely awed. Was Teddy really—did Lashly mean it? Was he beautiful?
“You don’t mind, d’you, darling?” Lashly asked, tugging Teddy’s face close. He had a beseeching expression, like something out of Austen.
Teddy shook his head again, and Lashly began to kiss him. He kept one hand on Teddy’s face while the other almost immediately went below, to grope at Teddy’s left tit.
“Oh, Lord, that’s it,” Lashly breathed hotly into Teddy’s mouth, as he thumbed and squeezed, “nothing like it, that’s fucking gorgeous.”
“You don’t mean that,” said Teddy, though in a teasing, coy tone. If he was going to make the most of this, it wouldn’t do to be a shrinking violet. It was not the Evans way, to let oneself be pushed around, no matter the state of one’s groin and chest.
“I do, s—miss, I do, I swear on my life, you’re marvelous.”
“He’s right,” said Crean, low and serious. “A thing to behold.” Teddy moved his head so he could see Crean; with a jolt he took in the defined shadow between his legs, which certainly had not been there a moment before. It disappeared when Lashly hove back into view, diving in for another sloppy and eager kiss. This time he tore the blanket fully away and bore Teddy forcefully down onto the cot, taking the hand that had been fondling his breast and thrusting it down against the most sensitive part of Teddy’s entrance.
Even as Teddy rocked urgently into Lashly’s touch, his bare feet were left hanging off the cot, twitching and exposed in the chilly air, and almost immediately Crean called out, “Dammit, Lash, she’ll get frostbitten toes like that.” Without even missing a stroke, Lashly tugged off his jumper with his other hand and tossed it backwards over his head. Crean caught it, and came forward to drape it over Teddy’s feet.
“That was an impressive display,” gasped Teddy, or at least tried to, but at that moment Lashly increased his rhythm and pressure, and Teddy shuddered, spasming; he heard a high noise that felt like it certainly couldn’t have come from his body… but in this state, it seemed capable of many unexpected things, such as veritably demanding that something thick and hard be stuck up inside of it immediately…
“Shall I give her a seeing to? She’s quaking for it, and so am I, to be truthful.”
“Go on, then.”
There was something Hilda did in bed which Teddy had always found ludicrous and unnecessary; when Teddy was fucking her the way she liked it best, legs slung up over his shoulders and her hands clutching the sheets, her eyes would roll back in her head and she’d begin to go all stupid, and Teddy would say, darling, darling, come now, but she’d just loll and moan and surely it was really just a performance, surely it didn’t feel that good for her, for in this position it wasn’t exactly the most pleasurable for him, but when she got like that Teddy could lean forward and shove two fingers into her mouth and she’d mindlessly suck, letting spit drip down her chin as he drove into her towards his own crisis.
Dimly he was realizing that she must have felt then like he felt now, sprawled forward on his elbows with Lashly thrusting into his cunt from behind, and barely registering the tip of Crean’s cock plying at his lips, merely opening up, accepting it, blissfully unthinking as its warm weight forced its way past his teeth to knock at the gate of his throat. Crean’s hand was on the back of his head, gently grasping his hair and guiding him down and forward as he choked and drooled around the massive prick in his mouth. Teddy wanted it, that was all; he wanted nothing more than what was being given to him, and how it was making him feel, so utterly, gloriously full, stretched near to breaking.
Crean was saying, “Made for my prick, your mouth was, miss, those lips just as lovely as I imagined, and Lord if it wasn’t worth waiting so long for. And you’ve done this before, haven’t you, you’re a gem of a whore, plain and simple.”
“Tell her,” Lashly said, or rather grunted.
“The rose of the Antarctic, that’s what you are. A splendid prize few men win, and only the worthy, eh, Lash? A sweet smile and a sweeter cunt, we’ll fill you right up soon enough…”
How long they went on like that, Teddy could hardly say. It might have been days. Only at some point he felt Lashly’s fingers clutch tighter on his arse and an accompanying wet heat flood the inside of his cunt, and Lashly cried out and then slumped forward over Teddy’s back. He said something to Crean then, perhaps, but Teddy didn't catch it, with his entire universe drawn down to the cock in his mouth and the unearthly feeling of spend dripping from his sore slit. Then Crean took himself away, leaving Teddy wetly panting, his jaw throbbing, thirsty for a second gush that was to be denied him.
Before he could regain the power of speech, Crean had come round to grab him the waist with both hands; he flipped him nimbly onto his back, then hooked his hands round the back of his legs as he lay dumbly and pulled him roughly forward. Teddy twitched there as Crean gave his prick, shining with Teddy’s spit, a few pumps with his veined and calloused hand, and then finally, with all the confidence and ability Teddy had come to trust him above and beyond for, lined himself up and then pressed inside. Oh, God, he was big—but Teddy took him all the way, and fucked back onto him as best he could, desperate for even more, and thinking perhaps he needed to put in some work of his own at this point.
Teddy wasn’t sure where Lashly had got to; but he hardly had space in his mind to wonder, with Crean heavy on top of him and inside him and all around him, a overwhelming presence, smelling of tobacco and pemmican, face so close that Teddy could count each dark bristle on his cheek, each hard-won line around his eyes… Was he—was Crean crying? No, he couldn’t possibly be. A trick of the light. In any case now he brought his face down to suck and bite at Teddy’s neck, and over his mussed hair Teddy then glimpsed Lashly leaning against the opposite bunk, gleaming with sweat, tugging off his braces and undershirt to reveal a darkly furred chest and proud belly above a red, softening cock whose sticky spend was now being fucked back inside of him by Crean.
This sight—along with Crean’s longer prick and the depth of Teddy’s cunt it could reach in this new position—had Teddy crying out from the jolting ache, shivering and tightening around Crean, and Crean said roughly, “That’s a lass, tell me how much you like it,” and Teddy obeyed as best he could, but was unable to do much in the way of understandable words…
“Christ but I can’t keep this up,” Crean groaned, up on his elbows now and slowing his strokes with some effort, “that’s what a year in the South will do to a man, a year with only thighs and arses for company, dreaming of a cunny like this very one, an answer to all prayers…”
“Now, give it a minute longer, you’ve got it in you, don’t deny her,” said Lashly, who had come over to kneel beside the cot and toy playfully with one of Teddy’s nipples.
Lashly’s encouragement went just that far and no longer. Crean lasted another glorious minute, and as he spent inside him with one, two, three forceful strokes, Teddy arched up and came too, with shocking intensity.
In the buzzing aftermath Teddy heard Crean say, “She’s even prettier after she’s been seen to proper. Think she knows?”
She does, oh, now she does…
Some time later Teddy came to. From outside Virtue Villa, Crean was saying loudly, “Now we must telephone the Doctor, don’t you agree, and him know we won’t be heading back until Mr. Evans returns, and no sooner.”
“It’s the proper thing to do,” Lashly answered, equally as loudly, projecting like he was on stage. “Mr. Evans wouldn’t want to come back to find us gone, would he.”
“Not if I know the man as well as I believe I do.”
Now Lashly dropped into a whisper. Teddy could barely hear him say: “And—he will come back, you think?”
“I’m sure of it. I heard a yarn of something of the sort happen on that Belgian ship down here, see, and they found out that…”
Teddy relaxed, letting the voices fade. He stretched luxuriously out on the cot, and slipped a hand below the blanket to draw a finger through the slick mess of seed pooled there, the evidence he’d brought two men to the very precipice of pleasure; there was nothing else on his mind at all.
Re: FILL: The Antarctic Rose, Evans/Crean/Lashly, magical body changes, wet and messy, E [2/2]
(Anonymous) 2022-11-29 11:05 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: The Antarctic Rose, Evans/Crean/Lashly, magical body changes, wet and messy, E [2/2]
(Anonymous) 2022-11-29 11:12 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: The Antarctic Rose, Evans/Crean/Lashly, magical body changes, wet and messy, E [2/2]
(Anonymous) 2022-11-30 04:48 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: The Antarctic Rose, Evans/Crean/Lashly, magical body changes, wet and messy, E [1/2]
(Anonymous) 2022-11-29 09:14 am (UTC)(link)