Hello it's @apeacebone (they/them) and this is where I put the Inappropriate F1 content
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when i say i literally wrote exactly it
gr63 -> george rule sixty three
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I'm afraid I'm going to start getting blocked by people if I keep doing this, lmao, but it is REALLY BOTHERING ME how few people provide a source for the F1 photos they share.
There are so many images from this sport that are iconic, so many moments that are burned indelibly into our collective minds. Photographs are a huge way in which we interact with the sport, especially on tumblr. So can we treat the people who provide us these images with some respect, and not just as mindless pixel farms?
Sports photography takes incredible skill and precision, not to mention mind-bogglingly costly equipment. It's not as simple as clicking a button over and over. Modern cameras with more advanced software help, but you still need decades of practice and an intimate familiarity with your technology in order to achieve the kind of results that get you these perfect images of totally natural and organic human activity, no do-overs, no time to look at your shots and adjust your setup and try again. The moment happens and the shots had better be goddamn perfect, time after time, thousands of times a day. These people are insanely skilled.
So can I just ask y'all to link to your photo sources when you post them?
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for fun, assign a stereotype to ricrussell shippers :) like if we got an f1rpf yearbook, what would their category be
First of all, an f1rpf/f1blr yearbook is a beautiful idea!!? I feel like that would make an amazing zine project in some form. I will have to ruminate on that. ANYWAY. What is the riccussell stereotype... what high school clique are we, haha... I think we are some niche academic interest group. History club, maybe? Because we are small but we are intense, and we have extreme attention to detail, and we have STRONG OPINIONS SOMETIMES, and most of all we have read and re-read the history books (team social media accounts) and can tell you about ALL the important details and their significance to the Narrative.
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Sugar high, caramel, cotton candy rush || maxiel || hallmark AU, 9k, M
Daniel carefully cuts a sliver off the chocolate and offers it to Max. āSome cunts will be like, āThis is a Valencia lemon, with white chocolate mined exclusively from the Swiss alpsā or whatever, but I donāt fuck with that. The flavour should speak for itself, I reckon.ā Max lets the fragment of truffle slowly melt on his tongue. āThis should make your mouth feel happy,ā Daniel says, very much not letting the flavour speak for itself. āThatās the goal, at least.ā
thanks to @enparallel, @powerful-owl, @bighoneyenergy, and @officialmood for helping me finally finish this draft lol
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omggg let a girl cool off⦠fem seb
#hooooly fucking shit. oh my god. jesus fucking christ#not to be a lesbian but oh my god#sv5#art!#nsfw
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Height gap romance except the shorter one is frequently depicted in situations where they are contextually taller. The taller one sitting while the shorter one looms over them. Both of them lying in bed with the taller oneās head pressed to the shorter oneās chest. The shorter one straddling the taller oneās lap and leaning down for a kiss. The taller one on their knees as the shorter one tilts their head up. Please, it makes me go feral
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All in a Day's Work, daniel ricciardo/multiple pairings, end game maxiel, rated E, 1/7 (current word count: 3150)
Daniel owns a small horse ranch just outside of Austin, where he runs a bed and breakfast. Guests are invited to spend their days taking the horses out on trail rides, enjoying a dip in the pond behind the barn, or simply relaxing on the front porch with a cold beer. At night, Daniel provides each guest with his close personal attention.
many thanks to em (@powerful-owl) for looking over this first chapter and saying wonderfully kind things about it to help calm my nerves about this very exciting but terrifying new fic style i'm attempting.
and a huge thank you to tori (@torirosso). this fic grew out of a conversation we had about all the fun and filthy ways daniel could entertain his guests on a ranch. <3
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brb thinking about seb laying his head on mick's thigh and mick cradling a hand through his hair or cupping his nape
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nothing but respect for our troops (smut writers) but listen. i dont want to be the person to tell you this, but not every character is going to be a dom or a sub. some people. and i know this is hard to hear. but some people do have vanilla sex. and some of those people might even be The Character.
#a healthy fandom ecosystem contains a diversity of smut#and that includes the wimpiest vanilla sex that is still mindblowing because they're obsessed with each other#not f1#...... but also#riccussell
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aussie on aussie crime

listen george didnāt indirectly invite oscar to his bed and get oscar to make that sexual innuendo for you guys to vote for the other aussie.
also the first time they met was in the toilets in 2020 and doesnāt all the greatest love stories start from first meet in the toilets.
look how cute this video is!!!!!!
their padel dates: here, here, here
george taking pictures for/of oscar after his winsš„¹š„¹
this genre of their pictures
and these as well
that flirty look and lean!!!!!!
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you think modern f1blr is uniquely horny but i just scrolled past a seb post circa 2011 captioned 'whoever pulls me out of that would be crowned the next king of england'
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Montreal 2017
maxiel, vampires, blood, dry humping, and some dubious consent
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"You smell good, Daniel."
Daniel looks over at his teammate in the bumpy backseat of the team van that carries them post-PR event back to their hotel. In the dying daylight, Max's shockingly blue eyes are brilliantly lit up in staccato beams of light as their car passes each streetlamp. His typically direct stare somehow feels even more locked on than usual, eyes glued to Daniel. It's too dim in the car to tell if he's even blinking.
"Thanks, bud. After hauling ass around town today, I think I smell pretty fucking fresh."
"You do not smell fresh. You smell like sweat."
"Got any normal compliments?"
"You look so alive."
"Okay," Daniel says as the car blessedly pulls up to the hotel's entrance. He hauls himself up and hunches over in the van, waiting for Max to move out of the way of their shared backseat. "Love ya, man, but let's get boogying so I can shower."
Daniel knows he shouldn't be so careless with his coworker's extremely obvious crush, but a little schmoozing does work when he wants something. Max flushes and scoots off the seat and out into the crisp night. Daniel pulls on his backpack and scampers out after him. Two Red Bull managers await by the door, handing off two key cards with the same suite number written on their paper pouches.
"Gotta be a mistake, right?" Daniel asks helplessly. An apologetic headshake as he and Max are informed the hotel is overbooked and it's more convenient for the team to not add another hotel stop to their tight schedule for logistics ahead of media day. Their team helps get their suitcases upstairs, and they leave Max and Daniel in the single room with two king beds.
"Dibs on the bigger one," Daniel jests as he flops back onto the plush mattress. He figures he might as well make this as light and easy-breezy as possible. They've managed to not share a room ever since becoming teammates in 2016. He actually thought Max would look more excited at the surprise slumber party, but the young man stands unnervingly still in the cold room, staring at him.
"This isn't good. I need to...do things alone tonight," Max breathes tensely.
"You can shower first if ya need to jack off."
"No. Daniel, why would they...They're always so good about it when the timing...overlaps," he pauses and pulls out his cell phone. In a rush, he holds it to his hear and speaks quick, unintelligible Dutch to someone on the other end. The call apparently doesn't help. He pulls on his jacket in terse and quick moves. "Sorry if I wake you, when I get back."
"Don't tell me you're going clubbing without me," Daniel teases.
"Not for fun. Just going out."
"For how long? May call up a girl if you're gone for a while. No better way to get out the pre-race week jitters with a little sucking and fucking, eh, Maxy?"
Max stares at him. Rather, Daniel feels he's staring just below his line of sight, as if those blue eyes were piercing his nipples. He glances down like he may have something on his shirt but by the time he looks up, the younger man is out the door. It closes with a sharp thud.
Wired and surprisingly off-kilter, Daniel disrobes and showers. He stands under the hot spray and feels a confused rush. He would've thought he'd have to bat Max off him given the sleeping arrangement. They've never touched beyond sportsman-like claps on the back and too-firm handshakes, but it feels obvious, to Daniel, that he could ask for way more if he wanted. The way he catches Max staring, the disproportionately hardy laughs at Daniel's shit jokes, the easy-to-conjure blush with the smallest compliment, it was clear. Daniel's been on the receiving end of puppy love many times. Usually it has been fans or girls from back home, but he knows what it's like to be admired, to be wanted.
Or so he thought. Max practically sprinted out of the shared suite, seemingly with no intention of spending a second longer than he had to around him. Which was...fine, Daniel assures himself. He still feels a twinge of something like disappointment. A lad's night in could've been fun, rare sightings of seeing Max stripped of team gear. Daniel wonders if Max sleeps in boxers or briefs as he pulls on his own loose sweatpants, brushes his teeth, and nearly puts in his night guard before the door slams open again.
"Daniel," Max says through heaving breaths. Daniel goes to open the bathroom door and finds it pushed shut again. "Don't come out."
"I'm straight, Max," Daniel attempts to joke. He tries to open the door again and feels it impossible to move. "Christ, Verstappen. What gives?"
"I'm not...you can't see me. I fucked up."
"Got an impulse tattoo? Bad haircut? Ill-placed hickey? Trust me, Max. I've done it all. You can't surprise me."
"They won't go back in. I did it too sloppy, people were coming...so just...stay there, please. I'll fix this."
Daniel raises in hands in surrender as if Max could see him through the flimsy door. "Not making a lick of sense, but okay. Put whatever it is away, then." Daniel wants to make a jab at anal beads to get a laugh out of him, but Max sounds scared. It makes Daniel ache. He hears his teammate bump around the hotel room, a bag unzip, rustle of plastic, a soft swear. Daniel holds his breath and then hears a sharp gasp of what sounds like pain.
"Max," he says, pushing the door open reflexively. Max, kneeling over a bright red bloodstain in the carpet, looks up at him. Daniel sees two sharp fangs over Max's full, parted lips.
Daniel freezes. They both stare in wordless shock. Max doesn't blink. He doesn't seem to breathe. He's turned into a statue of a young racer with impossible fangs like a-
"Vampire," Daniel says quietly. "Are they...are those real, Max? The blood."
Max is up at him, holding his shoulders in a flash. Daniel didn't even see him get up and move, it was so impossibly quick.
"Don't tell anyone."
"Yeah, bud. I really was going to go into the media pen tomorrow saying I saw you sucking off a blood bag before bed. Christ, Max." Daniel looks back at the busted plastic IV pouch on the floor. "Please tell me they're fake and that's cranberry juice and you have some weird vampire kink so I can make sense of this."
"They're real. It's blood. I'm sorry."
Daniel looks straight into Max's too-blue eyes. He's tearing up. Max looks off as a tear slips down his sharp cheekbones, and Daniel feels wracked with a horrible guilt.
"Aw, hey. Max, man. Don't...I'm sorry." He pats Max's shoulders. "We all have uh...baggage, y'know? Or, sorry. Not baggage. Maybe being a vampire is fun? Or just like being allergic to peanuts? Because, let me tell you, that also sucks. Uh. Not literally sucks, like...is that what you do? Do you suck? I mean. Oh, I'm fucking this up, I'm-"
Max's hands are quickly on Daniel's back, holding him flush to his chest. Daniel freezes as Max starts to breathe in deeply at the crook of his neck.
"I normally feed once a week, alone," Max says softly into his skin. Daniel sucks in a breath, feeling his skin heat with a blooming desire. "But you're here. I couldn't feed in here with you. So I...I tried...with a guy at a club who wanted it, but..." Max pauses to lick along Daniel's neck. Daniel, instantly, is hard. He swallows, making Max keen. "Fuck, I was careless, too quick. People nearly saw me, so I ran and I couldn't finish right. They can't go back in until I get enough...blood."
"You nearly sucked a guy off at a club?"
"Not through oral, Daniel. Through here." Max kisses on Daniel's fluttering neck. He feels a mix of fear and frenzy, like he's melting into Max's arms despite his best efforts to keep it together. "That's how we feed, we...entice. It's fucked up. I'm fucked up."
And he leaves his arms. Daniel shivers in his spot, falling to sit on the bed as Max paces around in front of the hotel window. The skyline glitters behind him, a modern backdrop for an impossible man.
"Vampires aren't real," Daniel says, hands over his neck, feeling the pulse and heat and wetness left from Max's tongue. He shouldn't want more but every ounce of normalcy is out the same window. He wants more. He wants Max. Desperately, despite himself. "You said you entice?"
"Vampires can compel. We can feel who's open to it, and then we," Max pauses, making frustrated circles with his hands in the air.
"You kill them?"
"No, fuck. No, we don't kill people. Not unless you don't stop."
"Then...you turn them into vampires?"
"Also no, they'd have to drink from me, too. Not happening."
"Oh, well, that's not too bad then? Just a little blood?" Max stares at Daniel, blank and stone-like again. "Like, Max. If that's all it is, that's not a big deal. I thought you were going on a light killing spree, but you can have some blood. If you need it."
Max remains motionless.
"Unless my blood is shitty."
"Your blood smells amazing, Daniel."
"Then, uh, go to town, Max." Daniel wants to get up but he realizes his grey sweatpants would immediately reveal his surprise boner. He squirms. "Ignore the moans, though. They're super manly and super normal, but when you touched me it felt really good."
"That's part of it. You may come."
"Max," Daniel says in shock. He's used to dishing ribald remarks, hardly taking it as Max walks over with that inhuman speed and sits on his lap. "Max."
"If you don't want this, I can go."
"And risk you getting spotted in vamp mode and making me spend longer talking to the press tomorrow about my monster teammate? No dice. Just do it." Daniel doesn't even have to try to make Max swoon. Quite the opposite. His own need feels overcharged, electric, unwieldy. He needs a wordless, formless craving for more. He looks up to the younger man and means it when he says, "please."
"Oh, Daniel."
Max sinks his teeth into Daniel's neck.
Daniel's done plenty of drugs in his younger years, absconding with illicit substances in Perth summers and free-wheeling Monaco ragers in the off-season. Those were nothing. Pale and lifeless against the rush he feels now in Max's grip. He had expected getting his neck bit would be painful. It's not.
He keens, hips bucking up into Max's. Max's large hands grip into Daniel's bare back as Daniel squirms and groans despite his best intentions to hold steady. He's always the giver. Always on top. Always making girls do this under him, not like this. Not with a guy. Not with Max.
He's pliant as Max hoists him up and back onto the bed, flipping so Daniel's poised on top. Max keeps one hand on the back of Daniel's head, fingers lacing through rings of curls. The other grips on his waist, encouraging him as Daniel ruts into his thigh.
"Max," Daniel breaths as he feels a dulled sensation of sucking and the much wilder rush of his length against Max's firm leg below him. "Max."
He groans as Max sucks harder. Daniel feels his cheeks burn and a sweat breakout between his shoulder blades and drip off his forehead. His hands cling to Max's back as he works his hips down, pleasure hitting him in hard, wonderful waves as Max's presence sucks up all thought, all feeling until Daniel is snapping his hips into Max with a blissed out, thoughtless heat. It's hot and building and too fast and not enough. Daniel strains and breaks in a trembling cry as the end finally hits and he comes hard in his pants, tears pouring and the distinct feeling of wetness leaking from his neck. Max licks the tracks of blood away and then sucks with finality over the painless wound.
Daniel can't see it. He can't see anything but stars and Max's chest as he falls into him. Max's breath is tinted with gasps, his voice ragged as he speaks.
"Are you okay? Daniel?"
"Yeah, yeah. Very okay."
"We need to get you water. I think I took too much. Daniel."
He's asleep before he hears anymore than that.
Daniel wakes up to the smell of eggs. He pops up on his elbows and looks around. Max sits on the edge of the bed, untouched room service breakfast sits further on the hotel desk. The Dutchman turns over his shoulder and sighs when he sees him.
"I, um, ordered food."
So delightfully awkward. Daniel smiles, relieved. It's still Max.
"Only fair since I was the room service last night."
"Daniel. I'm-,"
"If you say 'sorry' I'm tossing that omlette at you." Daniel gets up. Max hands him a much appreciated glass of water.
"I know I took too much," Max says as he drinks the entire cup. "Of your...blood."
"So taking a normal amount wouldn't make me come like a fucking horny virgin or is that par for the course?"
"That part is normal."
Daniel laughs. "Excellent. I usually last way longer, too, just for the record. Don't go telling other hot creatures of the night I'm some two-suck chump, if vamps compare notes."
"No. I'd never tell."
"And your secret's safe with me, too."
Daniel didn't realize Max's shoulders were held tense until he drops them with a shuddering sigh.
"Thank you."
"And just ask next time."
"Ask? To use you again?"
The thought of Max doing that with some random guy in a random club makes Daniel irrationally pissed. "Yeah. I can, uh, help. As teammates. It's probably easier for you, right? So you can do it again, if you want."
He was certain, based on that wide-eyed quintessential stare and now much deeper flush that Max did want it. He maybe always had wanted it. Daniel just didn't understand why he wanted it, too. A question for later as he wonders if Max is blushing with his own blood.
"I'd like that a lot, Daniel."
"And if you can turn into a bat, you gotta let me watch."
Max laughs. Daniel feels relieved, as he always does when he can pop Max's nerves into a relieving rush of giggles. "No, no. No bats. I can fly without being a bat."
"Now you're just bragging. Next you can tell me you can read minds."
"No, you are too obvious, I don't need to read minds."
"Me the obvious one?"
"You are very easy to understand, Daniel."
"Like how?"
"You like to stare at me, especially when I stare at you."
Daniel, now flushed himself, chucks a pillow at Max's head. The young man laughs as Daniel glances at his teammate's now evenly straight teeth, picturing the fangs from last night, thinking of all that came after.
"Just staring since I'm trying to see if you ever actually blink, you weirdo."
"I don't have to blink. I have to remind myself to do it."
"Okay, then remind yourself to also not compliment someone's sweat smell. Or stare at their jugular. How's this, I'll teach you how to be more human in exchange for super lowkey orgasms between bros, kapeesh?"
Max laughs again, earnest and fangless for now. "It's a deal, Daniel."
It's something. It's weird, but it's them. Daniel and Max shake on it, and Daniel feels the urge to pull him in and hold him tight despite himself. Later, he thinks. After media day, if Max needs it. Daniel silently hopes he will, that he'll need him over and over like that again and again for as long as they are teammates. As long as they are together.
#well!!!!!!#maxiel#fic rec!#dubcon#which To Me is fundamentally about#giving the pov character permission to be horny about something they think they shouldnāt be
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Welcome to MotoGP RPF Summer Camp! šļø
A four-week fest inspired by Girl Scout patches, summer camp, and scavenger hunts! Tap into summer camp nostalgia and have fun in fandom by making new friends, telling stories, and earning patches for doing fun, creative activities.
co-created by @bighoneyenergy āŗļø
Ongoing Patches | Week One Patches | Patch Display Inspo | Ao3 Collection
How does it work?
I'll be making weekly posts with a new list of fun fandom activities (i.e., sending an ask, writing a certain trope, making a gif). Every time you complete an activity, you earn a patch!
Weekly patch collections will be announced every Sunday between May 25 and June 15. There will also be ongoing challenges with patches you can earn throughout the fest.
What is a patch?
It's just a little graphic, created by me, to give yourself as a reward for making fandom a fun place to be!
Is this just for writers?
No! There will be over 40 patches available for all kinds of different activities. You don't need to be a writer or artist to play! And if you're new to fandom, struggling to feel motivated, or feeling disconnected, this is a great fest for you!
You can also choose to do as many or as few activities as you want, so this is a great low stakes way to have some fun in fandom!
How do I participate?
1. Choose an activity that sparks your creativity ā thereās new ones every week!
2. Complete the activity.
3. Collect your patches from Google Drive and display them proudly on your blog, or just look at them yourself and be proud of contributing to fandom, being creative, and playing!
4. Tag #rpf summer camp when you post things for the fest so we can all play together! If you're posting on Ao3, you can add your fic to the RPF summer camp collection!
Do I have to prove I completed the activity to get my patch?
Nope! Itās all about fun and play and works on the honor system. Every week, the patches will be available on Google Drive, so as soon as you complete an activity, just head over there to collect your patch.
What do I do with my patches?
Anything you want! Show them off in a Tumblr photo post, create a collage in Canva, print them out and paste them into a scrapbook, make them into pins and put them on your little cargo vestāitās up to you!
If you do want to post them on Tumblr (which we recommend and would love!), you could do a weekly round up, replace your existing pinned post, or include a picture of the patch in the fic or art post you make to earn that patch!
However you choose to display your patches, please tag #rpf summer camp so other people can see them and tell you how great you're doing!
Patch display examples coming soon!
Can I participate by doing activities for other fandoms too?
Yes! Thereās no wrong way to play or participate!
If you have any other questions, please just send me a message or ask! āŗļø I'm really excited for this fest and I hope it sounds fun!
#i can't remember if i reblogged this here but i LOVE the idea#nothing motivates me like little stickers/patches/badges to collect#anyway this starts this week??? hell yeah let's do things#rpf summer camp#organizers say this is open to fandoms other than motogp FYI!#fests!
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i love writing porn and i wont feel bad about it. understanding the eroticism of a character is character analysis if u are enlightened.
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i donāt give a shit that heās 6ā2 i want him MOANING and WHIMPERING
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First line tag game!
I was tagged by THE one and only @powerful-owl to post the first line of 10 of my fics?
Let's start with some WIPs:
codename "true love's load": People donāt get cursed anymore, is the thing.
codename "bad hallmark boyfriends": George Russell takes his seat at the table set for two with a gracious nod to the waiter, unfurling the cloth napkin to fuss with itāthick burgundy cotton, bulging embroidery with a satiny sheenāwhile he tries not to look at the empty chair across from him.
codename "buzzfeed unsolved": āOK, can we get quiet on the set, please,ā Seb yells politely.
And for published fics:
Ourselves and all things at your whim: Itās a bitter day in January, but the snap of the cold air in his lungs has never prevented Sebastian from dropping in on his soldiers as they drill in the courtyard.
GR63: āAll right, thank you, everyone,ā George says as the last few of his colleagues settle into their chairs.
Choice in my hands: He comes out of La Source after too wide of an apex, not quite able to move on Sebastian just ahead, but it doesnāt matter as he puts the pedal down and upshifts, upshifts, upshiftsāhe tears flat-out through the subtle s-curve of Raidillon, then he crests the hillside into the Kemmel straight and he is flying, the world frozen in his peripheral vision like heās on a higher plane of existence.
my temple will be beautiful, too: Thirty-three years.
The means by which I waken: Daniel Ricciardo sinks into the driverās seat of the McLaren GT, its leather interior the same ominous steel-gray as the rainclouds that rolled in too late to salvage his Grand Prix performance just hours earlier.
Total Recall: Well, thought Lena McCarroll, handcuffed in the back of the Stilwater PD armored van, the Saints are not likely to bail me out of this one.
Neurotaxis: Shepard-Commander is organic, and the geth consider this unfortunate.
I TAG uhh boy I don't know who hasn't done this, but: @alasarys @nobrakesdown @saintdevote @sphinxofgrease @burnishedvictory
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Monsterfucker kink meme, just launched
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