#rpf problems

[pie-of-flames]

Sometimes I forget if something really happened or I read it in a fic.

[philologicalbat]

the most dangerous thing that can happen to an rpf writer is having her fic scooch toward reality over a shocking long timeline.

[pseudophan]

out of the closet dan and phil preaching about how rpf is great actually is just so funny. like yeah man you guys just get free porn written about you and your boyfriend, of course you're pro rpf

[schmilsson]

reading musician rpf but shaking my head the entire time to show i disagree with the way consumerism & mass media & the american concept of the star create a very intentionally constructed false image of people and events in the minds of fans in order to sell more records

[ghostsinmachine]

Soldier Boy, Bleed

author: ghostsinmachine pairing: macklin celebrini/will smith (b. 2005) chapter: 2 of 3 word count: ~19k rating: explicit tags: friends to lovers; under-negotiated kink; canon-typical self-awareness (that is to say: none)

“Sit the fuck back down,” Will snaps and Mack—inexplicably—does exactly that.

It’s as if his strings have just been cut. He goes down so goddamn hard it isn’t even funny. One second, he’s upright, and the next… well. He’s back on his ass. He stares down at his own knees in dismay like they can somehow explain why they’d just given out. “Uh,” he says, mortified.

“Huh,” says Will, in an entirely different tone of voice.

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

dovquez with 29 + 59 or just one of them if you don't want to/can't figure out how to incorporate both

dovquez: 19 (time jumping/time travel/fix-it)

Marc’s kitchen—this Marc’s kitchen—is a spotless place. All marble and pale walls, inoffensive taken straight out of an architecture magazine for perfectly palatable influencers and celebrities.

Dovi wouldn’t have said that Marc liked inoffensive, before.

But maybe this Marc does. What does Dovi know about the future.

He hovers awkwardly around the central counter, his arm bunched awkwardly against his chest on a sling, his smile fixed in place with nails.

One of his dogs—the sausage dog with the red collar—has laid down straight on top of his feet, keeps staring at Dovi with remarkable unfriendliness. The other had sniffed at him dubiously before concluding he doesn’t matter.

There’s this moment of indecisiveness, Marc chewing on the inside of his cheek, looking at Dovi sideways. He seems a little wan, a little skinny. Certainly older, stress carved into the hollows of his cheeks, the lines around his glossy eyes.

Dovi had never expected Marc to get sharp edges like that.

“What year is it?” He asks to fill the gaping silence, since it won’t happen on its own.

“2022,” Marc says, then blinks slowly, owlishly. “I’m sorry, I’m being a bad host. Would you like something to drink?”

Dovi shrugs. “No, it’s fine, thank you.” He wouldn’t want to bother the injured man.

Marc’s mouth thins before he remembers himself and nods just as blandly and politely. These days—well, in Dovi’s year, not here, not now—he was much too good for acting mistakes, bulldozed past humiliation and speculation like a charisma nuclear fallout. Laughed through it all, much too loud, much too shamelessly.

It’s hard to be friends with Marc—to get through the polished outer shell of his distance and deal with the white-orange line of his Honda crossing the finish line first what seems like every fucking time.

But Dovi has never had trouble with friendly, at least. Hopes that hasn’t changed between them.

“Are you doing alright?” He asks, like he’s gotten used to when Marc hits the asphalt on free practice and is up and running the next session. “What happened with that arm?”

Marc does laugh, a bitter, twisted thing, sudden and mean like the crack of a whip. “I did.” Then, with uncaring flippancy, not bothering to pretend he wasn’t skipping Dovi’s question straight-facedly: “When are you from?”

Dovi thinks—that must hurt like a bitch. Marc wouldn’t, otherwise, ever be that unpolished, that worn-out. From there on, it’s the easiest thing in the world to extend him some kindness, which people have always said is Dovi’s problem when it comes to him, and his bloodthirstiness, and his general insanity on a motorcycle.

“2017. Fun year.” Gently, very gently, Dovi leans on the counter by his side and stares down at the unfriendly scrap of a dog. “Are you going to introduce us?”

Marc lets his shoulders drop, smiles broad and sincere and unashamed for the first time since Dovi was thrown in his kitchen. “She knows you, sort of. Be nice to this Dovi, Shira, c’mon.”

[landinrris]

Your monthly reminder for Ao3 that putting any variation of a ship combination in the "Relationship" field gets picked up and deposited into that ship's tag.

"Character a/character b (background)"? Yep! You guessed it! It's going into the tag.

"Minor character a/character b"? That one too!

If the ship you are tagging is being used as a plot device or is truly minor or background in nature, I think I speak for everyone when I say please just put that relationship into the "other tags" box. Your readers will still stay informed that way on what they're getting into, AND you won't anger a bunch of other readers for that other ship because you gave them false hope for new fics.

Cross-tagging doesn't help your exposure, it just gets your username blocked.

[elegy-for-the-present]

😭😭😭

[ray935sworld]

A sting because I care

Pedrenzo

Cw: mention/use of syringe, needles, medication, chronically ill Dani

Dani had layed down before dinner. He was tired, his bones were aching. He felt like his bones were glued together, frozen in the joints.

He knew he was physically still able to move but right now it felt like he couldn't. His legs and arms felt too heavy so he just kept his eyes closed, refusing to move for a while.

At some point, he heard the door open. He kept his eyes closed, he knew it could only be his boyfriend. He heard his steps. He walked towards the bed. There was another sound. He placed something on the bedside table. Then the mattress gave in next to Dani.

He felt Jorge's body hover over him. "Are you awake?" he asked. Dani shook his head as an answer and got a laughter for it. "Yes you are." Again he shook his head.

"OH well that is very unfortunate" he whispered. Dani felt the younger man sat down on his lower stomach. "Because that means you won't see me shirtless" His eyes opened immediately. "Awake." he said causing Jorge to laugh out loud.

"Thought so" Dani's eyes ran over the very much still clothed young man. He looked great nonetheless. His hair messy, wearing some old oversized shirt, a smile on his face.

"Mmmh...." he mumbled and reached for him. It felt like breaking the ice in his body. It wasn't painful. Just uncomfortable. And exhausting. A pressure he couldn't erase.

"I'm here" Jorge said, leaning in to meet his hand. He leaned over, his hand on Dani's body. There eyes still focused on the other.

"So tell me..." Jorge whispered as he leaned in. "Do you want me to lift your shirt, so your stomach is all mine..." he whispered, his hand slightly squeezing his closed thigh. "Or would you prefer me to take your pants off, so I have easy access?" "Mmmmh... Why chose?" he asked with a suggestive grin. "I'm all yours"

Joreg smiled. His face soft, his eyes caring. It wasn't the way he usually looked when he wanted Dani. Normally he'd look more like a predator. Like he was ready to attack him any time, to claim and love him. Dani loved that feeling. But being looked at with so much love and care was even better.

"OH I'd love that. I could undress you and then just have my way with you, couldn't I?" "Yeah. Do it." He breathed out. His body might hurt but he knew Jorge would be gentle. He knew Jorge could fuck him hard and fast. But he also knew he'd be soft and caring, slowly and lovely.

He felt a hand on his cheeks, warm against his skin. It felt like a relief somehow. Softly he nuzzled against it.

"Dani" it sounded more serious. "Mmh?" "It's been a week. Time for your meds" His eyes flew open.

Pants or shirt off, he remembered. He could inject his meds in his thigh or stomach. And it's been a week since the last dose. Time for his meds.

Fuck. His meds. He hated taking his meds. He knew they were good. He knew they were working. But he hated having to take them. It reminded him that he was sick. It reminded him that ever since he was a teenager, he knew his body was against him. Not just due to his smaller statue.

Dani sighed loudly which made the younger giggle. It was only now that Dani realized that Jorge had already placed the desinfaction spray and the meds on the bedside table.

"And here I was thinking I'd get laid." "Awee, my poor horny love" he replied as he backed away, standing up and giving Dani a hand to pull himself up. With one hand, Jorge softly nudges his legs over the edge of the bed.

He knew Dani always chose the leg, never the stomach. The thought that Jorge would stare on his stomach, pinch him in the fat made him uncomfortable. So thigh it was. Therefore he now sat on the edge of the bed, Jorge kneeling infront of him.

"You're lucky you're already cooking." Dani muttered, visible annoyed while Jorge got ride of the older man's trousers. "I know. I'd cook whatever you want for you, you know that" he whispered.

And Dani knew it. He leaned back and nodded. He knew Jorge would cook for him. Whatever he wanted. It was one of the many surprisingly soft sides the younger had that Dani only discovered once they got closer.

"Cold" he heard Jorge's warning before the cold disinfectant hit his skin. Jorge had only done it a few times so far but he was a lot more confident in doing it than Dani who has had the same meds for more than a year now

While Jorge was preparing everything, desinficted the place, taking tbe syringe out, making sure it was the right one and that there was no air left, Dani's mind drifted off. He remembered how this whole thing had started, how shocked Jorge had looked the first time he had learned about his chronic illness.

He remembered how shy Jorge had been when he bought Dani a few fruits, pain meds and other supplements, that always helped him handling the symptoms. How careful he had been when he realized Dani had a flare up, always understandung, no matter how angry Dani was about his own condition.

Jorge had been everything Dani could have asked for when handling his illness. And now, the 23 year old on his knees, carefully pinching the skin on the side of the thigh, looking up to make sure he was ready, Dani felt wrapped in love.

But when he looked at Jorge and the needle in his hand, he felt panic. His eyes went wide and that thought that the rather long needle would be completely buried in his thigh.

"Wait wait" he said, flinching forward and holding onto his wrist. He couldn't explain the fear that suddenly gripped him. He knew it was childish and that at the end if the day, he'd have to take the meds. "I... Don't. No. Please. I don't want to. Please-" "Dani, you need to take the meds"

Jorge had a stern but soft look. He wouldn't be the one to bargain. "But it'll hurt." Dani whispered. He felt ridiculous. He was used to crashing on bikes going more than 300km/h but the quick pain of a syringe was apparently too much?

"I know but it'll be over before you know it. And it'll help you more than it'll hurt" "No. Just. No. Jorge I don't want-" he almost begged. Jorge nodded, the pleading tone becoming too much. "Okay."

He knew Dani was exhausted, his mind foggy. He wasn't in his right mind.

Quickly, he leaned in. He was now closer to his face. "Dani, I love you. I want you to be okay." he said, hoping to calm him down. "But-" "Dani, it's okay. We can try again after dinner." "Promise?" "Promise. I love you soo much. I love you so incredible much, corazon. Mi amore."

"I love you too" he replied before Jorge kissed him. It was a soft kiss. Careful and long. Dani didn't notice how Jorge's hand moved again, gripping his thigh once more. Instead he just put his hand around Jorge's cheek.

He smiled happily. He was just about to say something between kisses when a soft "Ehhhgg-" escaped his mouth, caused by a barely noticeable pinch on this leg. Another, more intense pressure followed.

He stared at Jorge, blinking in confusion. He realized what had happened. The younger one grinned mischievously, knowing his plan had succeeded.

Then it hit Dani. He had been tricked. Distracted with sweet words and a kiss while Jorge had injected the meds in his leg.

He felt like a child. "You asshole tricked me" he replied. Jorge smiled and gave him another kiss. "See? Didn't hurt?" he asked and quickly pulled the syringe out of the skin, wiping the remaining yellow liquid away and putting everything to the side so he could throw it away soon.

"I hate you" The Honda rider said, no heat in it, just a look of disapproval on his face. Jorge just smiled, standing up. "And I hate when you don't take your meds and have a flare up" he replied and kissed his cheek.

Objectively, Dani knew he was right. But still. He decided to ignore that fact.

"Come on, you can be pouty over dinner." the younger man joked and a few minutes later, Jorge was sitting next to Dani in there bed, there TV running with whatever show. They ate and soon afterwards Dani fell asleep against Jorge.

Jorge smiled, wrapping his arms around the other, pulling him against him. He kissed his head and whispered.

"I'll always take care of you"

[bringthesauerkraut]

Jon & Stephen being flirtatious during the Midterm Midtacular.

"...what's happening in the south tonight?" 😏

All my TDS/TCR/Jon videos can be found here 😊

[phoosey]

This shit is NOT fair

[binnybinnychickendinny]

do you think their teammates are tired of them

[valyrfia]

guys ive said this before but please stop taking screenshots of my posts and posting them to twitter/instagram/tiktok. even if you think it’s innocuous and fun and you include credit there’s a reason why i choose to have my blog here on tumblr and not on these other social media platforms, mostly because im rpf heavy and i don’t want to even risk anyone remotely involved seeing that…….

[toadettely]

[ceoandslutler]

antis' hypocrisy is astounding ???

saw a kuro anti on ao3 ragging on sebaciel shippers and then i clicked on their profile to see if they wrote anything like "sebaciel shippers die" in their work tags (so i could report them) but then i find out they like to write hardcore explicit underage noncon rpf like you can't be serious right now.

like im going to beat myself with a rock WHAT IS GOING ON

[sachermorte]

horrifying headlines etc etc but I honestly never noticed how short kickl is, especially compared to nehammer

if anything this is an excellent reference image for when I draw them kissing under the moonlight