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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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Deb/any, assertiveness
(Anonymous) 2023-08-09 04:16 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Yes And, Deb/Silas, E, mildly under-negotiated kink
(Anonymous) 2023-08-15 02:26 am (UTC)(link)Charles paused his note-taking to grasp for the no's antecedent. "You won’t—“
"Switch lecture dates with you. No."
"It's only a week’s difference.“
"I don't want to." Deb's tone brought to mind the creeping alarm of a frog that, propelling itself laboriously out of the swamp, has found itself matching wits with an approaching locomotive.
"All right," said Charles.
"It's not unreasonable of you to ask," Deb allowed after a wary silence.
"Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"
That invited a scrutiny that crawled many-leggedly over Charles's consciousness. Finally Deb made a noncommittal sound. “You’ve got a bit of grooming to accomplish in the—” Deb’s hand described Charles’s head and made reserved but pointed implications about the rest of him.
"You’re one to talk.”
“Hm,“ Deb said primly, before he crossed one leg over the other, and went back to work.
“Look here,” Charles started, but when Deb looked there Charles discovered to his dismay that he had not prepared anything to look at. “It’s good of you not to make the apt comparison to one of those Scottish cows,” he said at last, because it would make Deb laugh and buy him a moment.
Deb squinted at a rock, which looked, to Charles’s eye, much like every other lump of earth Deb had cross-examined. He did not laugh.
Thus chastened, Charles turned to organizing his lecture into less of an insomnia cure. His eyes, which he had directed to remain on the slips of paper he had begun to sort, nevertheless mutinied Debwards. Deb, with great serenity belied only by a slight red bloom over his cheekbones, finished writing, set down his rock, turned the page, picked up his rock, and started writing again. “Stop staring at me,” he said.
“I am not staring at you.” Charles was, in the present tense, not staring, though the immediate past might have had some strong words for him.
“I can’t concentrate when you stare at me.”
“Christ alive, I am not staring—”
Deb swiveled his squinting from the rock to Charles, who found he liked the focus less than the rock did. “You can go back to your corner, then.”
“I’m happy here,” Charles said stubbornly. “I’ve got my notes out.”
“I’m reclaiming the seating.” Deb kicked the chair Charles was sitting on until it threatened to pitch Charles backwards. “This is geologist territory. And Gran’s.”
“Fine,” said Charles. He eased the chair sideways and knelt where he had been sitting, holding himself up with elbows on the table. Deb’s knuckles whitened around his pencil. He scratched out two words with uncharitable vehemence. Charles felt some uncharitable vehemence himself. He would have voiced it, he thought, were it not for—and here his thought, in a feat of selfless devotion, threw itself into the sea. What the hell got his goat, Charles thought instead, on safer shores.
“Charles,” Deb said.
“The fuck’s it now.”
“Charles.”
Charles stacked his notes in the order he’d put them. He had ten days. He could work on them in the physicist corner, where no one yanked chairs out from under him and where no one knocked knees against his and where no one smiled sideways with an expression like pure spilled alcohol: evaporating even as you watched. “I’m going, all right,” he said. “You don’t have to be a—”
“No, I’m sorry.” Deb’s face, from a starting line of pinched red over the cheeks, now looked like someone had slapped it, which—Charles’s train of thought, having hoisted itself sopping from the surf, gamely hurled itself back in. “Draw the curtain.”
Charles drew the curtain.
“Kneel again.”
Charles knelt.
“Here.” Deb pointed, and Charles shuffled forward until he was where Deb had pointed, his shoulder at the table, his knees at Deb’s toes. His breath caught on the inhale, like the fellow bellowsing his lungs had considered, for a moment, throwing it all in for a one-way ticket somewhere warm.
Deb looked down at him. In the semi-darkness behind the curtain, Charles watched the gleaming points of light in his eyes. Feeling an ancient sort of boldness, like that of the first creature that had stuck its head out of the ocean and thought it might like to try a beach holiday, he put a hand on Deb’s knee.
“Did I tell you to do that,” Deb said.
Charles swallowed, half choked on it, made a watery gasping croak, and shook his head. In a feat of great daring, he did not move the hand.
“Oh for Pete’s sake,” Deb said, sounding a good three-quarters choked himself, and then he caught Charles by the collar and hauled him forward and said, “I’m going to kiss you now,” and did.
Charles’s hand, initially forgotten, reintroduced itself to the proceedings at Deb’s waist. “What’s next?”
“I don’t know.”
That was a lie. Charles grinned, lending some teeth to the next kiss. “Try again.”
“We’re behind a curtain.”
“We are.”
“Anyone might—”
“Better think fast.”
“Shut up. I can’t think when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like that. Every day. You’re like a dog.”
“Then tell me what to do.”
“I thought,” said Deb, his mouth downturned in the way that meant he was fighting a smile, “I had told you to shut up.”
Charles shut up. Well. He put in his very best effort at it, and lasted twenty-eight seconds, during twenty-four of which his mouth was occupied by kissing. Then he said, “Deb, I want to—” and Deb said, “If your life depended on it you couldn’t, could you,” and Charles said, watching himself speak as if the puppet of his body had clipped its strings and waltzed offstage, “Well, you’ll have to find something better for me to do with my mouth, then,” and Deb whispered, “Charles!” with an exclamation point, like he’d just been clobbered over the head and thus relieved of his memory of the preceding two minutes. But he got over his virtue fast enough to help Charles with his trousers and to hiss, “We do not have time to mess around,” as Charles—thrilled in equal parts to have his mouth occupied and to sink into the warm, salty, sour work and to have Deb over him, hands in his hair, casting quiet sentences that never quite hooked their predicates—nodded and closed his eyes and concentrated.
The fingers in his hair tightened and then yanked, warningly, before Deb made a sound like a kicked turkey and came off all at once. “All right,” he said after a moment, in a satisfyingly spent voice. He jostled himself back into his clothing and reached for the chair as Charles rocked onto his heels and dragged a sleeve over his mouth. “You’ve earned it back.”
“I’ve earned—” Charles growled, but then the curtain was flung open and Griff descended to declare that light was the latest thing in scientific endeavor and had Deb’n’Silas considered inviting some into this den, while Charles sat gingerly and watched the flush crawl over Deb’s nose.
Ice structures, Charles thought. The cave. Extreme cold. Falling into a frozen ocean.
Underneath the table, Deb kicked his foot and muttered, “Sorry.”
“No trouble at all,” Griff said.
Charles knocked his knee into Deb’s. He pulled the next lecture point to the top of the pile. Deb didn't move away. Instead, he shifted in his seat, smiling privately, his shoulders loose, his nose flaming so red Charles knew it would be scalding to the touch.
Re: FILL: Yes And, Deb/Silas, E, mildly under-negotiated kink
(Anonymous) 2023-08-18 05:12 am (UTC)(link)That invited a scrutiny that crawled many-leggedly over Charles's consciousness.
Firstofall the fact that you’re calling him Charles is SO compelling and fun. Makes it seem v in-his-head and personal. Secondobal, the turns of phrase here are phenomenal.
Charles was, in the present tense, not staring, though the immediate past might have had some strong words for him.
HIS SIMPDOM…#obsessed….. feels true feels organic. Lentils for my wife post with 100% more swears.
smiled sideways with an expression like pure spilled alcohol: evaporating even as you watched.
THIS VISUAL JUST BLOOOOMS
now looked like someone had slapped it, which—Charles’s train of thought, having hoisted itself sopping from the surf, gamely hurled itself back in.
HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT H
“His breath caught on the inhale, like the fellow bellowsing his lungs had considered, for a moment, throwing it all in for a one-way ticket somewhere warm.”
THIS LINE! GOES! SO! HARD!
Feeling an ancient sort of boldness, like that of the first creature that had stuck its head out of the ocean and thought it might like to try a beach holiday, he put a hand on Deb’s knee.
AND THEN THIS ONE? IN QUICK SUCCESSION? THEY’RE SO OBSESSED BYE
“Look at me like that. Every day. You’re like a dog.”
HOLY FUCK . Also (werewolf silas thoughts intensify)
He put in his very best effort at it, and lasted twenty-eight seconds, during twenty-four of which his mouth was occupied by kissing. Then he said, “Deb, I want to—” and Deb said, “If your life depended on it you couldn’t, could you,”
>staring at Deb for four uninterrupted seconds
ME TOO BITCH THE FUCK…….
Deb over him, hands in his hair, casting quiet sentences that never quite hooked their predicates
HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT. GO AHEAD TRY AND TALK BB :-)
that light was the latest thing in scientific endeavor and had Deb’n’Silas considered inviting some into this den,
As ever Griff is an inimitable feature on the song of this fic. Love him sm
shifted in his seat, smiling privately, his shoulders loose, his nose flaming so red Charles knew it would be scalding to the touch.
BLUSHY…….. CUTE…………… GOD I LOVE HIM
Anon you absolute legend this is a fucking home run. I foresee frequent rereads in the future!!!