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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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Cherry/Lillie, post-expedition romance
(Anonymous) 2022-09-29 11:30 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: In motion, Cherry/Lillie, post-expedition romance
(Anonymous) 2023-06-22 05:29 am (UTC)(link)“He means well,” Lillie says.
“Makes me feel rotten.”
“Our friend Deb believes in love. Isn’t that just wonderful to know? And he believes you are worthy of it, and is distressed at the idea of you being denied it. I can’t say I blame him.”
The barest hint of a smile pierces through Cherry’s moue of discomfort. He glances up at Lillie through his lashes, across a table littered with the remnants of a luxurious Lamer breakfast. Through the window of the small parlor where they take their meals swims the golden light of a glorious Hertfordshire summer. Lillie admires the dance of the dust motes suspended; tries to imagine the splendid, unheard music they move to. The dust doesn’t know about the war.
“Put on your specs, darling, why don’t you,” Lillie says, lightly admonishing. “You know I prefer to be really seen by you, not just looked at.”
Cherry reaches across the table and takes his spectacles from where they had lain abandoned beside the teapot. Lillie folds his hands under his chin and holds Cherry’s gaze, trying to embarrass him by thinking terribly dirty things in his direction. They are connected, the two of them—a gossamer braid that grows ever stronger, by the day, the hour, the minute spent in each others’ company. By the end of this precious week Lillie hopes to have entwined his soul with Cherry’s so deeply that they would be able to send each other messages of pleasure from horrid Portsmouth to wonderful Wheathampstead without recourse to earthly devices like the phone or the telegraph.
“Stop it,” says Cherry, the tips of his ears gone red.
“Shan’t. No—don’t you dare look away.”
“You’re horrible.”
“I can be worse. If you want.”
“I’ve only just eaten—Lillie! Oh, come now, please—!”
“I would marry you,” says Cherry, with force. He is always so honest after orgasm; a cloudy solution turning suddenly clear after shaking. “If you were—if I could. I’d want everyone to know. Then Deb wouldn’t be able to say a damn thing about me being so unhappy and lonely. Oh!” Cherry laughed, a bright brittle sound. “Imagine if he knew! Imagine if he knew how happy I was, at this very moment!”
“If you concentrate hard enough,” Lillie says, tracing arcane shapes into Cherry’s downy chest, “he might feel it, through the flux… Perhaps he's sitting down right now, composing a corrective missive, congratulating you on at last finding your lady.”
“He could be your maid of honor,” says Cherry, now stricken with giggles. “They’d report it in the society papers. I can see it: Jessie Debenham wore a gown of finest peach silk… and bride Miss Lillie Ooze, ever the iconoclast, wore nothing at all!”
His face splits in a grin, and Lillie cannot resist: he starts spreading urgent kisses all over Cherry’s face and mouth, pinching at his nipples and tickling his sides and armpits.
He bears bother so well. A creature born for play and joy and very little else: what a pity the world has thrust so much upon him from the start, and continues to. Unnecessary things like money and a large estate and a body which at times is a painful burden. To say nothing of the expectation that he marry—ridiculous. As ridiculous as the idea that Lillie himself would marry! Imagine!
O, would that they had both been born birds… Penguins, perhaps. On the journey home around the Cape, Toffer had shown Lillie his notebook full of the most shocking observations. Adelies, those enlightened creatures, partake plentifully in the vice that, after a minute of tickling, and several more of languorous caresses, Lillie is now contemplating an encore performance of.
“Yes,” says Cherry, “won’t you—?” Reading Lillie’s mind—that, or, feeling the cock resting against his thigh begin to stir into hardness again. In any case, the answer was—would always be—yes.