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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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Trials Three, Con/Kathleen, explicit, CWs discussion of pregnancy and mention of mpreg
(Anonymous) 2023-12-24 11:53 am (UTC)(link)****
“Sit on me.”
“Con—”
“Please. With your dear rubber prick.”
“No.”
“I do not see why you should have all the joy of me inside you if I cannot have you inside me.”
“It will achieve nothing towards our aim. Perhaps it will even undermine it—”
“We’ll make a baby after.”
“Not if you waste yourself!”
“I will last.”
“Con…”
“Please, girl…”
And she cannot say no to his eyes. She has never been able to say no to his siren’s eyes. Just as he is called to sea, so too is she drowned, dragged under willingly to the womblike clutches of the deep with a great weight tied to her body.
Kathleen disentangles her naked limbs from his and from the quiet murmuration of their lie-in. Mounting her creation and securing the leather straps, she faces away from him, but she can feel those purple eyes watching, drinking in her form. When she turns, he says, “There’s my girl.” and she feels a flush of pride.
Gently, she places one knee on either side of his pink ears, settles her weight atop his broad chest. She feels a pectoral muscle flex beneath her buttocks. Eager hands slide round her hips as he half-guides and she half-feeds her rubber length into his waiting mouth. Con’s eyes flutter shut as his cheeks hollow, then fill. What is this doing for him? It seems the closer the Terra Nova gets to sailing, the more strange, outlandish, and scattered his requests. He sucks on her, not unlike Peter with a pacifier. He’s nearly as bald as Peter, too—she really must remind him to not wear so many hats, they’re only rubbing his remaining hair off faster!
Kathleen forgives herself if babies are quite all she’s thinking of. Her mind draws similar connections whenever Con’s mouth is on her nipple; given he is now the less frequent visitor to that region of her, she cannot help it. How curious that men and babes should have so much in common.
She gets comfortable, clamping her fleshy thighs round either side of his face, deafening him to the world. Can he breathe? Yes, through his nose. What a ducky darling, what a good feeder, what a—
An insistent push from behind tips her in deeper, and Con’s muffled moan tells her this was desired. Lightly, she gyrates her hips. This is pleasurable. Even if the rubber prick is not really hers, Con is treating it as if it is, showering it with adoration, and she so enjoys watching the effect. Her bush protrudes around the pommel, and when she slips a finger in-between she is pleased to find herself damp. Her breathing grows heavier until she is panting, edging closer to her precipice until she is jolted aware by Con’s gagging. She had not noticed how much she had sped up. She ebbs, but he only grips her tighter, so she continues. Kathleen does not yield until she comes.
Looking down triumphantly, she finds her husband’s eyes—just about all she can see of him—shining.
When she extricates herself, the first thing he says is “I told you I would last.”
“So you have.” She reaches back and grips his swollen yard in a way she is sure makes his eyes water. He stays deliberately, effortfully still. If he is aiming for spitefulness, he achieves obedience.
Upright on her knees, Kathleen is just beginning to divest herself of her prick when Con pipes up again.
“Come inside.”
“No, you!” She says in a frustrated huff.
“Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.”
“What is this, your trials three? Are you a witch in one of the Boodle Doo’s storybooks?”
“Come now, you’re hurting me, girl,” but his coy lippy smile suggests otherwise. “I’m no witch. But I’ll grant you another Boodle Doo if you only comply.”
And she melts down onto him, biting that pouty lip in a slow, burning kiss. “He’s perfect. I want ten more.”
“Ten?!”
“Yes. So hop to it. And you had better last.” She pinches his cheek.
“I will.”
And he does, as she works him open and slips inside, as she kisses the tops of his knobby little knees and as she rolls her belly over his suffering prick. It must be agony, but of course it is agony of the sort that transmutes itself to pure bliss. For that is what she sees on his face: bliss, clear and unclouded. He will hold fast because he loves her. Of this she is certain.
And she does get rather a lot out of this reversal. As she probes him, it is natural—if foolish—to imagine that she might be filling him with life. How would he bear it? The very thought might once have filled her with horror, but now—at least in the moment of the act—she lets fantasy transcend that practicality. Just for a moment.
He would bear it well. Of this she is certain.
For the second time that morning, Kathleen comes. She is gooey, giddy, released.
This time the straps come off quickly, and when Con pipes up a third time, Kathleen is ready to throw the entire contraption at her husband. But all he says is, “Girl, I’ll miss you” so she relents. Climbing back onto him, she cups his cheeks in her hands.
“You have me for a while yet. I’m going south with you.”
“Not all the way.”
“Do you wish I would go all the way?”
“I would not wish to deprive you of our son.”
“I’ll be lonely with just the one.”
“I’m ready.” And Con scoots himself under her, angling his prick suggestively toward her entrance.
Kathleen laughs, full-throated, and fervently flips them over. “No—won’t lose anything to gravity—you must do some of the work around here, you know—ohhhh—" She gasps in ecstasy as he finally, finally buries himself within her.
A quarter of an hour hence finds Kathleen lying on the floor, bum and legs propped up against the wall, precious spend dribbling down inside her towards her eggs as surely as the blood rushes down. She swears she can feel it, that spark of life within her. Her head is in Con’s lap, and his upside-down face grins down at her contentedly as he strokes her silky hair.
“If you can’t do a little thing like deliver me of my monthly pain, what’s the use of you?” She asks. Harsh words, but spoken tenderly.
He leans over, and kisses her.
Re: Trials Three, Con/Kathleen, explicit, CWs discussion of pregnancy and mention of mpreg
(Anonymous) 2023-12-24 12:21 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Trials Three, Con/Kathleen, explicit, CWs discussion of pregnancy and mention of mpreg
(Anonymous) 2023-12-24 12:21 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Trials Three, Con/Kathleen, explicit, CWs discussion of pregnancy and mention of mpreg
(Anonymous) 2023-12-24 12:22 pm (UTC)(link)Thank u for honouring Con's famous stamina I think it's only right he should prove himself in this arena 🙏