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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: Hung and Drawn, Wilson/Cherry, E
(Anonymous) 2023-01-01 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)Doctor Wilson was up to his elbows in albatross, so he asked Cherry, never far from his side, to run down to his cabin and fetch his notebook while he washed up. There was a neat line of black-bound sketchbooks on the doctor’s desk, so Cherry grabbed the nearest, supposing it to be the one currently in use. He was halfway out the door again when it occurred to him to grab a pencil as well, and when he returned to the desk he saw the corner of another sketchbook protruding from under some papers.
That must be the one Bill wanted, Cherry thought, and pulled it closer.
To his great surprise, he found that it was not open to a drawing of a bird, or a sunset, or a shipboard scene, as he expected. He was not shocked to recognise the likeness of one of his crewmates on the Terra Nova, even Tom Crean, one of the lower-deck men. No, the surprising fact was that the drawing captured Crean in the act of undressing: the muscles of his naked back were rendered in perfect detail, even the tension in his arms as he grasped his trousers low about his hips. His braces were loose around his knees and the dimpled top of a muscular pair of buttocks was visible above the waist of his trousers. His head was turned, looking over his shoulder in a cheeky grin.
Cherry jumped backwards as though he had caught the man himself in a state of undress, so vivid was the likeness. A moment later, overcome by curiosity, he crept forward again, clutching the other sketchbook in front of his chest like a shield. He had the strongest sense that he had stumbled upon something private, which he was not meant to see, but he could not quite have said what the difference was between this image, and the nightly nudity and hijinks of the officer’s mess. It was the deliberateness, perhaps, of both Crean’s pose, and the fact that Bill would have had to sit and observe him thus.
Cherry didn’t know whether he was blushing at such a suggestive image of one of his crewmates, or at the fact that it was Bill who had drawn him. Good, patient Bill, who had a kind word for everyone but who Cherry had flattered himself might be particularly attached to him. Cherry had quietly thrilled like a lovestruck schoolboy when their hands brushed over a dead bird, or when Bill’s voice was close against his ear in the dark nights up on the deckhouse. And all this time Bill had been drawing sailors undressing for him! Compelled by the need to know what more there could be, Cherry turned back to the previous page.
Deb’s face met him, a secretive smile on his lips above a bare neck and collarbones. On the next page, Oates, looking deadly serious in nothing but a pair of riding boots. A crop rested across one bare knee. Cherry hurriedly moved on, flipping to the front of the book. He landed on a close-up of a hand grasping a hard member, the thumb reaching up to caress the head of it. Cherry shifted awkwardly, his own prick tingling in sympathy. But surely that was– he leaned in closer in spite of himself–could that be the Owner’s signet ring on that hand? Embarrassed at the thought that he might be looking at his expedition leader’s erection, Cherry hurriedly turned the page again.
There was a man he didn’t recognise, staring out from the page with legs spread, elbows on his knees. There was the shadow of arousal between his legs, but Cherry was most arrested by the almost pugnacious look of his square-jawed face, the direct gaze of his dark eyes. This was certainly a man to be reckoned with. There was scrawled in the corner, in writing not Bill’s, “Too racy for the SPT? All my love, EHS.” Intrigued, Cherry turned another page, to find the lower half of a face, cradled by a pair of large hands. One thumb pressed obscenely past the lower lip. There wasn’t enough of the face visible to identify, but Cherry thought the chin looked like Scott’s. His mind whirled.
Just then, the sound of steps in the companionway startled him. He slammed the book shut, but he wasn’t fast enough for Bill’s long stride, and the doctor ducked through the cabin door a moment later.
“I wondered where you had got to,” he said with a smile, which shifted to an assessing look as he took in the sketchbook still clutched to Cherry’s chest, the closed one on the desk, and Cherry’s flaming cheeks and tented trousers. “Ah.”
Bill closed the door behind him. Cherry opened his mouth to issue a stream of apologies and explanations, but Bill shushed him, moving forward to take the book from him and check both it and its companion, nodding with suspicion confirmed.
“I see you’ve found my private sketchbook. It’s a bit of an Antarctic tradition, you know. As it’s your first expedition I wasn’t quite sure what you would make of it.”
To Cherry’s chagrin, the first words out of his mouth were a petulant,
“It’s Titus’s first expedition and he’s in it!”
Bill chuckled indulgently.
“Well, he was in the army, and it’s not too different there.” Bill stepped closer, taking Cherry’s face in his hand, and Cherry found his lips unconsciously parting like the picture he had seen. “I’m sorry you had a bit of a shock, dear boy. Not an unpleasant one, I hope?” Cherry shook his head vehemently, and Bill ducked in to kiss his mouth so quickly he could barely react. “Would you like me to draw you too?” he asked with a warm smile.
“Oh, would you?” Cherry said. It was the highest honour he could imagine to have Bill’s focus solely on him, capturing him as he saw him with deft strokes of his pencil.
“Of course,” Bill said, moving easily to the desk and finding the next blank page in the appropriate book.
“How—how would you like me to pose?” Cherry asked, his mind’s eye suddenly full of possibilities. Bill looked him over in a way that made him blush.
“Would you take your shirt off? Good lad,” Bill added as Cherry scrambled to comply. “No, leave your glasses on.”
Cherry shed his upper garments quickly, then stood uncertainly facing the bunk. Bill’s mouth quirked into a smile.
“I think…” he murmured, and then he was arranging Cherry with quick burning touches, bending him over the bunk, half facing the desk. Bill sat facing him and crossed his long legs, pulling the sketchbook into his lap. “Perfect,” he said, “are you comfortable? Good. Now look up at me through your lashes like when Ponko asks for a photograph.” Bill laughed gently at Cherry’s confusion. “Don’t worry about your face, I’ve got to start with the overall outline first. Just do what feels natural and I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”
Cherry was pleased to be able to watch as Bill settled in to work, watching the confident sweeps of his pencil across the page, preening under his focused attention and occasional praise. It was relaxing to be told exactly what to do, where to put his body. At the same time he was aware of his prone position, the provocativeness of his pose. He couldn’t stop thinking of the images he had seen, and the certainty that Bill had arranged them just he had confidently placed Cherry, with deft touches and focused gaze. Cherry was achingly hard and without thinking he reached down to alleviate the pressure.
“You want to touch yourself for me?” Bill’s voice was gentle, coaxing. “That’s perfect. Lovely boy.”
Cherry found himself fumbling with his trouser buttons, somewhere between embarrassment and being too far gone to care. He let out a moan of relief as his hand closed around his prick, rutting into his own hand.
“Yes, just like that,” Bill was saying, the soft scratch of the pencil accompanying his words. “Are you thinking about all the pictures you saw? Not everyone gets to see them all. I know I can rely on your discretion.” Cherry nodded, hand flying faster. Bill went on, “You look so good like that. Imagine I’m behind you, your thighs tight around my prick. So tight, Cherry darling, so perfect. Don’t come yet, I’ve almost got you–”
Cherry whimpered, gripping desperately at the base of his cock to delay his spending. He didn’t think he had ever been so aroused in his entire life. He looked up at Bill, unexpectedly in focus. He had forgotten he still had his glasses on. Bill’s mouth was pursed, his hand moving quickly over the page. Bill looked up and their eyes met. Cherry cried out, spasming helplessly as his crisis overcame him.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped as he returned to himself. “I couldn’t hold out any longer.”
Bill set the sketchbook down and gently helped him to clean up.
“That’s all right, dear boy,” he said, “but I may need you to sit for me again. And maybe ask Mr. Bowers if he would like to join you?”
Re: FILL: Hung and Drawn, Wilson/Cherry, E
(Anonymous) 2023-01-02 02:10 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Hung and Drawn, Wilson/Cherry, E
(Anonymous) 2023-01-02 02:41 am (UTC)(link)“are you comfortable? Good. Now look up at me through your lashes like when Ponko asks for a photograph.” YES THEE Cherry look lmao