#still lots to learn but i am improving i feel like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mokutone · 2 years

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I'm drawing Kakashi for the first time (as much as I love them, I rarely ever draw naruto characters so this is a little fun and new for me) and I'm struggling a little bc I'm trying to draw him relaxed, reclining with pakkun (in the way I recline with my cat) and I'm realizing there's something so personal abt drawing him in such a vulnerable pose ig. Like? I'm very tired too rn so maybe I'm being extra emotional and rambly but there are so few scenes of kakashi in canon where he's not wearing the jounin vest, where he's alone and relaxed and out of uniform. And I didn't realize it until I was trying to think back to other similar scenes and there really weren't any. and I'm kind of mesmerized by how you draw him because you capture that so so well, your art is gorgeous but it's also so real and expressive in a way that shows a lot of practice and a lot of love. Idk i think I've said this before and I'm sorry if it's annoying that I'm saying it again (I'll just shut up after this lol) but I went to an art school and I had massive burnout and only really started drawing again in the past 6 months and you were one of my inspirations 2 start drawing again and I'm still not as good as I'd like to be but I draw so much more now and having an actual passion for art has led to a huge improvement, so thank you and thank u for bearing with me and my sleep-deprived rambles. I think my original point got sidetracked. I forgot why i started writing this ask.

dkgjhsdgkjdshg no i think you're 100% right abt the kakashi relaxed thing, even when we see him "relaxed" he doesn't ever really Look relaxed. like

here he is chilling out in the hot springs. this man does not look relaxed but he DOES look exhausted and maybe a little like he's gotten lost. somebody help this confused man find the exit.

anyway art + motivation talk beneath the cut

djhsdkjghsdkjhg thank u for all the compliments abt my art, i do work really hard in order to draw expressive characters, and spend a lot of time paying attention to how the small details in posture and expression change how the character comes across, and im glad it pays off!

also yeah no, similarly, once i left art school (when the pandemic hit) i did have a good 6 months where i did not pick up the pencil even once, and like, usually i feel rlly bad or guilty when i'm not drawing, but my burnout was real bad and i was straight up angry abt everything dgkjhsdgkjh so i just...didn't draw for like 6 months. i didn't even feel bad about it bc i was too busy being angry

and i had a bad relationship with art at the time and eventually realized i kind of had to like? make a different relationship with art—like, try to stop seeing art as something which gave me fundamental worth as a human being, or part of who i am? you know? that's a LOT of pressure to put on just...something that i do. if i took that kind of approach to literally any other task in my life, i'd never do it. imagine thinking that the way and style with which you descend the stairs gives you your worth as a person and if you don't do it exactly right then it means you're worthless as a person? buddy i'd just find a way to go down and out through the window LMAO

i think this is the thing which gives a lot of people burnout, it's exhausting to be constantly working on something and ALSO believe that if you fuck it up even a little, it's because you are the fuckup, and a fundamental failure of a person. god thats so much pressure.

anyway so i decided to make a naruto art blog because i don't even like naruto That Much but my best friend had been trying to get me into it for years (ty kate ilu kate), and so any art that i made would be purely for fun, wouldn't have anything to do with my self worth, and might make kate laugh too, and that's why this blog exists! and taking the pressure off of creating art like that has been enormously helpful to my mental health and my ability to create, also i take breaks alllllll the time, i'm like...way healthier about my art thanks to that, and also just...a nicer person, i think? anyway i'm very glad that i inspired you to get back into art but i'm far more glad that you've found a passion for it, cultivating that passion and joy is so important

#a lot of the way i approach art is bc i worked with kids for a while and like. u can kinda tell when a kid is at the breaking point w/ art #where they're like ''if one more thing goes wrong i am going to Lose It''#+ at that point as a ''teacher'' u have to pick between giving them critique on their artwork to improve OR letting it go + saying their #art is good and they're doing really well #and i always pick the second one—LIKE. once the kid is no longer feeling soooo frustrated abt their art that they're at a breakin point?#THEN we can talk critique. and even then i will still tell them what they're doing well #until theyre at that point tho its all ''yeah!!! you're killing it! look at these new skills you're learning! look how you're improving!''#''look how funny/beautiful/exciting/cool your piece is!!!!''#because first and foremost. i think that art should be enjoyed #having creation as a friend and ally vs A Duty is sooo important #TO BE CLEAR LIKE. this is also still technically a form of critique #i dont just say ''good job champ! great work doing art!'' if u wanna compliment art and have it mean something you do have to be #specific about what is good...not ''that looks great!'' but ''wow you draw really fabulously detailed noses!#or ''wow the fashion you're drawing is really cool—i wish i had that jacket!'' like.#as in all things. compliments and praise are only meaningful if they are /meant/ and you cant fake that #MY POINT IS. if we want to take the pressure off ourselves with art. i think we also gotta treat ourslves like this #look at what we're doing and compliment things we genuinely think weve improved upon. love our successes #nothing better for the ego than to compare new art to old art and look at what weve changed #i should do some redraws at some point #my jutsu

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heartshattering · 3 months

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I think I really need to develop a routine again... even if earlier this month I was sleeping in the morning and waking up in the afternoon at least I still had a certain time I was falling asleep by, and a time that I normally woke up by. Now I've just been all over the place. Part of it has been because of pain/physical symptoms (laying down during a flare-up and then dozing off instead) but I've also been up at night, and panicking so much during nighttime, dealing with racing thoughts and compulsions again.

I just don't know how to get myself back on track and I really feel like I'm a lost cause with all of my bad habits, disorganized life, unhealthy lifestyle, feeling that my baseline anxiety is way higher than normal, and dealing with the physical consequences, too. I wish I could sleep and function like a normal person. I don't want to be struggling all the time. I just really miss where I was before even though I wasn't 'perfect' then either but I think people picking out everything I was still doing 'wrong' (my family members, nurses, etc.) made me feel like none of my progress mattered because I'm not 100% 'healed' yet. And I just started slipping back into bad habits again. I don't even know where to start with fixing myself. Help.

#insomnia #mental health #chronic illness #i genuinely do not know what to do.#like at this point i think what i need to fix first is sleep because poor sleep makes all of my other symptoms a lot worse #had a therapist a long time ago tell me that i should always focus on fixing my sleep first #but sleep is the hardest thing for me right now #especially because nighttime is when my ocd symptoms worsen and i struggle the most with compulsive behaviors #i've been learning strategies to cope with ocd but it's still so hard as soon as it's night and i just feel like i'm never going to improve #i am not happy with myself #i just feel anxious all the time and i hate it #ngl i feel hopeless about myself and i just. don't know how to pick myself up again

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aggressive-almond-cookie · 2 years

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not only is salmon run difficult, it feels like there’s an extra layer of difficulty to breaking in as a newbie because at low ranks your teammates are about as inexperienced as you, and while you want to stick with the group, if the group isn’t prioritizing the [insert devastating boss here] and isn’t following your signals and you feel like you can handle it, it feels like going off to be a hero is the correct choice, and it might be, for that specific scenario, but ultimately that’s not how you’re going to get better at salmon run, based on my impressions/what I’m reading

#disclaimer I'm a newbie too and might be very wrong about this #but these are just my experiences #I am having a lot of fun but I am also seeking to improve I'm just not really sure what to focus in on #because my weaknesses are a little bit of everything #(maybe a lot of everything)#just the incredibly slow rate at which I process visual information probably being be biggest one #a lot of the guides I am reading/watching seem to assume your teammates know what they are doing and what role they have #but like I can't effectively play a role if a role requires support that I am not getting #because we're all still learning/figuring this out #I dunno it's just such a unique experience it feels like #to me #a person new to this whole genre #maybe it's actually pretty normal I dunno #splatoon #salmon run #if anyone wants to rec me guides/videos I'll look at them #but I think ultimately I'm gonna learn best by just playing more #so everyone will just have to put up with my inexperience until I can hold my own a little better #and stop JUMPING INTO THE WATER MAYBE fdsjaJKFSD

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andthebeanstalk · 1 year

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It's important to play a "LEVEL UP!" sound effect in your head whenever you get better at a skill because the world is flawed and so this does not happen automatically.

Often, in this life, we must provide our own sound effects.

#original #life advice #you can read this as a metaphor but i literally do mean that today i learned a lot about drawing backgrounds and upon surveying my work #i took a moment to imagine - as vividly as i could - a garbled video game announcer voice going LEVEL UP #it's garbled because sound files on classic video games were compressed as fuck and i am imagining like... a ps1 era game.#the kind where it holds up really well to this day and in all of the continuing sequels they #still use a lot of the same sound effects because they're so recognizable and iconic. I can picture the graphics and everything.#what does yours sound like or look like?#it isn't actually important that you do this specific thing but it is good to recognize when you're getting better at something #my favorite thing about learning to draw is when I can focus on a really good tutorial and #improve a skill so quickly that it really feels like I filled out a skill tree with my XP #it isn't always an immediate improvement but i am so low level in background illustration that i still level up with just a little XP #whereas if I want to get better at drawing expressions I don't think there is a single tutorial that will cause me to level up on its own.#just because this is the thing I've always focused on for most of my life and so a lot of the tutorials don't have new information for me #so that skill is at a point where it's just gonna improve slowly as i practice and pick up tips over time.#but I know so little about drawing shops or castles that literally one page of information is increasing my knowledge by 20% at least #Pro tip: the Etherington Brothers tutorials are so good and I was able to find several hundred for free on their website #so good #etherington brothers #how to think when you draw

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sophiamcdougall · 8 months

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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time

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nadvs · 19 days

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watch and learn (part seven)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The next morning, you sleep in, recovering from the party. Your head is still foggy as you scroll through your phone in bed, thinking about last night.

You spent a lot of time with Blake. He was nice and charming and all you did was talk and share innocent touches. He’s nothing but green flags.

Yet your mind kept reminding you of Rafe. And it kept replaying the sight of him kissing another girl.

Something between you two shifted the other day, when you dropped by after his dad’s visit. You agreed that you were friends. And then did something that friends definitely don’t do.

Then, of course, he took a few days to be a jerk. But last night, he mustered up a sorry for you, flirting with you again.

It’s almost like he’s leaving breadcrumbs, making you think he has feelings, with the possessiveness and the compliments and the looks he gives you. But time and time and time again, Rafe proves to you that he’s a douchebag who’s not looking for anything more than sex.

And neither are you, you remind yourself. Not with Rafe. He would break your heart if given the chance. And you’re not giving him the chance.

You see a text from Rafe from a couple of hours ago: you up?

You reply: i am now.

You open Instagram to see that Blake posted a story a few minutes ago. It’s a photo of a sign on the side of a building. He’s at a paintball range with his frat brothers. It must be another bonding event.

The text on the photo reads: let’s goooo red team.

You reply to the story: putting all my money on the red team.

He responds: I’ll win for you :)

Rafe has never played paintball before, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. His gun is loaded with blue pellets and he has Blake in his sights before the starting bell even rings.

This will be the best way to release his anger over the fact that he’s losing you. Well, other than getting naked with you and fucking until he can’t think straight. But you weren’t answering your phone this morning. So, this’ll do.

The field is vast under the cloudy sky, cluttered full of obstacles and barriers and embankments. When the game starts, Rafe has one goal and one goal only.

He hates how you were smiling at Blake last night. He hates how you touched his shoulder. How you laughed. How close you were.

Mere minutes into the game, he’s behind a colorfully splattered wall and finally finds Blake in his crosshairs. His finger presses down on the trigger over and over and over again, each pop loud and echoing, coating the front of Blake’s vest with bright blue drops of paint.

“Jesus, Rafe, I think you got him, man!” one of his teammates shouts with a laugh.

Even though one of his buddies on the red team nails Rafe in his arm a couple of times near the end of the round, the game ends in a blue team victory.

As the boys make their way back into the building, Blake shoves Rafe’s shoulder.

“The fuck was that, Cameron?” Blake asks, pointing to his vest, sheathed in blue. His smile is wide, but his tone is sharp. He’s trying to hide it, but he seems actually pissed off. Good.

“My bad, man,” Rafe half-chuckles, lifting his helmet off his head. “Got lost in the game. I love to win.”

The high from winning this stupid game is so intensely gratifying that Rafe wants to keep beating Blake in everything. Including in getting your attention.

When Rafe checks his phone as they leave the range, he sees you finally responded. He’s craving you now, but he’ll see you in a few hours at tonight’s party. And he wants Blake to see you with him.

He was stupid to think he could stay away from you. He’s going to see you as many times as you let him before your touches with Blake have more meaning behind them.

The “anything but clothes” party is slated to start at the Sigma Chi house in a few minutes. You and Liv decide to show up right on time to hang out with the guys and drink before the liquor runs out.

You made a stop at a party store off-campus to buy rolls of caution tape together, deciding to wrap the bright yellow nylon into haphazard tube tops and mini skirts, stuck together with clear packing tape. You’re careful so that the sticky tape is only on the caution tape, not directly touching any skin at all.

When you enter the house, you follow the noise in the kitchen. A group of frat boys are in the dining room, setting up the keg and putting out cups.

Blake and Rafe are standing with four other guys, talking as they set up.

Rafe should’ve put more effort into what he wore. He has a towel around his hips and when you walk in wearing next to nothing, he regrets it immediately. A boner would be way too fucking obvious.

Blake greets you with a side-hug and Rafe cracks his knuckles under the table.

“Hey, how was paintball?” you ask. “Did you win?”

“Lost and I’m wounded.” Blake’s wearing a plastic bag over his chest and another around his hips. He puts his hand over his sternum, the bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

“What the hell happened?” you laugh, placing your hand on his. He pretends to wince in pain when you touch him, making you laugh again. The sight makes Rafe scowl.

“Rafe went all Scarface on him,” Sam says. You look to Rafe, and at the same time, glass shatters in the kitchen behind you.

“Shit!” a guy shouts.

“So glad tomorrow’s thing is outside,” Blake mumbles. “This place is a mess and it’s only gonna get worse.”

“What’s tomorrow?” you ask.

“Family day,” Sam says. “We’re having a barbecue.”

“Do you guys have something going on every weekend?” Liv asks.

“Pretty much,” Blake in a bragging tone.

“And when do you study?” you say.

“During the week, fun police,” Blake mumbles with a playful smile. You hate the label and think back to a conversation you had with him over text about nicknames.

“Don’t call me that, babe,” you respond. Blake told you before that he loathes being called babe.

Rafe doesn’t know you’re saying it ironically. And he’s trying not to lose his mind. He looks down at his beer and takes another sip.

A moment passes and he doesn’t notice that Blake is trying to get his attention until he realizes seven pairs of eyes are on him.

“What?” Rafe asks.

“Who are you bringing tomorrow?” Blake repeats.

“I’m not coming.” Rafe can’t imagine even mentioning the event to anyone in his family.

“What? Why not?” Blake says. “I need to meet who raised you to be so fucking competitive.”

Rafe looks away the same way he did when you confronted his dad for yelling at him. It’s not exactly annoyance in his expression, like you’re used to seeing. It’s discomfort. Embarrassment.

You don’t want anyone to grill him. Not about his family. You can still hear the way his father snapped at him, asked what he was crying for.

“Sounds like you’re just mad that you’re such an easy target,” you say to Blake, primarily to take everyone’s eyes off of Rafe.

You earn a few jeers, heads turning back in your direction. Rafe’s eyes find yours and you glance at him to see a softened expression, the hard lines in his face suddenly gone.

“I’d like to see you try to play paintball,” Blake says.

“Yeah, you’re really selling it,” you respond sarcastically, snapping your gaze back to meet his.

“What other events do you guys have planned?” Liv asks.

As Blake goes into the schedule for the rest of the year - including a community service drive, a Sadie Hawkins formal, and a camping trip - Rafe can’t keep his eyes off of you.

He can’t forget how you stood up to his father, a total stranger, and told him to calm down. He can’t forget how happy your silly little gift made him.

Maybe you were just flirting with Blake, but he wonders if you purposely took the attention off of him, knowing what you know about his family.

You two are friends that have great sex, he knows that, but he’s staring at you like you’re more. You can be irritating and a tight-ass, but you’re kind and thoughtful, too.

Rafe looks away. These thoughts make him uneasy all over. He’s not a feelings kind of guy. And Blake is so obviously your type and Rafe is nothing like him.

He’s not stupid. Anything more than sex between you two would be ridiculous.

The house fills up with partygoers quickly, air thickening, music loud and conversations even louder.

Later on in the night, Rafe’s buzzed and standing by the keg, watching you dance with your friend. The way you roll your hips reminds him of how you move when you’re on top of him and he needs to force himself to look away before he gets hard. Again.

Eventually, he notices you head towards the back of the house alone and he takes the opportunity to talk to you.

When you leave the bathroom and head down the dark hallway back towards the party, you notice Rafe leaning by the wall, a beer bottle in his hand. There’s only a handful of people around, engaging in quiet, private conversation as the music throbs around you.

“Hey,” he says. He wishes he thought of something more clever to say, but he’s pretty close to being drunk.

It’s kind of sweet that he’s waiting here for you. But then you remind yourself he’s just horny.

“Hey,” you say, eyes flitting down his athletic body and to the navy blue towel sitting at his hips. “Pretty lazy of you to use a towel.”

“Nah, it’s smart,” he quips. “That tape is perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say.

“You can read, can’t you?” Rafe simply says, his hand ghosting over the bold CAUTION on your chest. You look down at the way his long fingers just barely brush over your breasts, imagining the way they were massaging you earlier this week.

The reminder sends a swirl of warm passion in your core. You want him again. And again. And again.

“Are you trying to say I’m dangerous? I’m not the one attacking people during an innocent game of paintball.”

“I got hit, too, okay?” Rafe complains. He brings his right arm forward, showing you his flexed bicep.

“I don’t see anything,” you laugh.

“These red marks are turning into bruises,” he says, pointing to his skin. “I’ll need you to take care of me.”

“I think you’re just being a fuckboy,” you respond.

Rafe’s smirk is playful and inviting and you realize you’re only inches away from each other, eyes connected and smiles mirrored.

You want to see him naked again. Neither of you had any pointers last time you hooked up, but that doesn’t mean you’re done learning, right?

“I’ve never gotten a ‘you up?’ text at ten in the morning,” you say. Admittedly, you were a little dejected that he didn’t reply to your message earlier today.

“You woke up late,” Rafe says, eyebrows quirking up for a second. “When’d you even get home?”

In reality, he wants to know if you were with Blake. He didn’t see you at last night’s party after he made out with a girl just to unsuccessfully make you jealous. Maybe you messed around with Blake and stayed up late with him.

“I don’t remember,” you admit with a defeated laugh. “I think I need to cool it on the partying. You frat boys never stop. I can’t believe how many things you guys have going on.”

Rafe breathes a sardonic chuckle, looking down, and you’re immediately reminded of tomorrow’s event.

Just like that, the air between you shifts. You’re both thinking of the same thing. You’re painfully aware of it.

Silence settles between you and you nervously scratch your arm.

“I wouldn’t want to bring him, either,” you finally say. Rafe’s eyes meet yours. He instantly knows you’re talking about his father.

Now he’s sure you weren’t just carrying on conversation with Blake earlier. You purposely took the attention off of him. Because you’re friends. Friends help each other.

“Yeah,” is all Rafe can say.

“Did you…” you say softly. “Do you not have anyone else you’d want to come?”

Rafe thinks of his life back home. His father, who never shies away from expressing his disappointment. His step-mother, who he has no relationship with. Sarah, who’s the clear favorite. Wheezie, who Rafe actually likes and sort of misses, but wouldn’t be able to visit on her own.

“No,” he admits. “It’s… I don’t have that kind of family.”

“Must be why you’re into this whole frat thing,” you say. You can’t stop yourself from trying to understand his complexities.

Rafe didn’t think about it that way. But the sense of camaraderie he has with his frat brothers, except for one in particular, does give him a sense of belonging he’s been chasing forever. He didn’t even realize it until you said it.

But that’s what you do. You make him think and feel things he hasn’t before and it’s so uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.

“You’re…” Rafe tugs at his earlobe. “You’re a really nice person.”

“What?” You laugh in disbelief. Is he being sweet to you outside of the bedroom?

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he says. “When he asked me why I’m not going tomorrow, you changed the subject.”

He can’t say Blake’s name.

“Guilty,” you say. You settle into eye contact that’s unlike anything you two have shared before. Rafe huffs, wanting to force away the tension sitting in his chest.

“I think you’re into this whole frat thing, too, by the way,” he says. He leans even closer to you, blue eyes focused on your lips.

“Not at all,” you joke, shaking your head. “I hate you guys.”

“Really,” Rafe mutters, his tone low. “Even me?”

“Especially you.”

“You don’t remember what you said last time we fucked? When I asked if I could put it in?”

Your skin burns as you think back to the way he asked you if you were ready before burying into you.

“You must be thinking about another girl,” you say. He won’t even entertain the thought.

“You said please,” he rasps.

“Well, at least I have manners,” you reply, looking him in the eye as anticipation curls in your stomach, refusing to shy away.

“You gonna beg me for it again?”

“I did not beg,” you respond.

You want to tease him even more, tell him you thought you were experts now, so what’s the point of hooking up anymore? But you don’t need it to be instructional to have sex with him. He doesn’t seem to need it, either.

“Don’t tell me you’re still shy about liking it.” His smirk is taunting. This cracks you, a smile spreading on your face again, your eyes trailing down his bare chest.

“Maybe,” you tease. It’s a lie. You’re not shy at all anymore. The sense of shame you felt around sex before is gone. At least with Rafe, it has.

“How can you be shy when you’re wearing that?” Rafe asks. “Showing fucking everything.”

“You’re one to talk,” you say, nose crinkling. The way you cock your head as you gaze at his body, your lashes fluttering as you blink, makes his gut warm and his groin tighten. Wow. He really doesn’t even need to touch you to get hard.

“And don’t act like you don’t like my outfit,” you say, meeting his eyes again. You shock yourself with your forwardness. He looks pleasantly surprised, too.

You hear your name being shouted. Liv rushes towards you, hands pressed over her chest.

“My tape broke,” she laughs. “I almost flashed everyone.”

“Really?” you gasp. Rafe is annoyed that you got interrupted, but he finds that he really likes what caring for somebody looks like on you. Your eyes deepen. Your brows lower. Your guard is down. You’re stunning.

“We should’ve brought extra tape,” Liv says.

“We can borrow a shirt,” you suggest. “Let’s find Blake.”

Rafe is seething. Blake. Of fucking course.

You offer Rafe a tight smile before taking your friend’s hand and walking in front of her to shield her.

When you find Blake, he leads you and Liv upstairs to his room, scrambling through his dresser to find a shirt for Liv.

“I’m not gonna get kicked out for wearing clothes, am I? It’s against the rules,” Liv says.

“No, only ‘cause you’re friends with fun police over here,” Blake replies, smiling over his shoulder as he hands a black shirt to Liv. “Special privileges.”

“I told you not to call me that,” you say with a laugh. Liv pulls the shirt over her head.

“Thanks!” she calls as she walks out of the room, a grin on her face. You know she’s purposely leaving you alone with Blake.

You meet Blake’s eyes, standing in the middle of his quiet, private room.

“Study fort’s gone,” you notice, looking down at his bare floor.

“Oh. Yeah,” he says stiffly. It’s awkward between you and you’re not sure why. “You look…”

Blake doesn’t finish his sentence. You knew he was a bit on the shy side, but he’s actually nervous.

You would normally find it endearing. But because of the intoxicating way Rafe was talking to you downstairs, how he’s so unafraid of telling you how attracted he is to you, you feel tense around Blake for the first time.

Still, intrigue coarses through you. You like him. You want him to flirt with you and to touch you and to finally kiss you. But he’s still.

Rafe spots your friend in the crowd with a t-shirt on. And you’re not next to her. He pushes through people to stand beside Liv and ask her where you are.

“Upstairs with Blake,” Liv simply responds. Rafe glances up the staircase, lips twisting as he nods. He stalks away, storming through the house with no real idea of where to go.

He paces around for a few minutes. He wants to rush upstairs and hurt Blake. Badly. Without a paintball gun this time. The thought of you being up there in his room, of his hands on you, of him on top of you… It’s too much. He’s grinding his teeth so hard that it hurts.

Rafe has had enough. He heads back towards the front of the house, not sure what the hell he’ll do if he walks in on Blake on top of you, but before he can go upstairs, he sees you in the crowd, chatting with your friend.

“I left you alone up there for a reason,” Liv says quietly when you approach her.

“Oh, I’m aware,” you laugh. “But the vibe was weird, so I left. I think we were both nervous.”

After Blake couldn’t finish his sentence, you thanked him for helping your friend and split.

“Do you not like him?” Liv asks.

You do. But you think you like someone else, too. And it’s terrifying.

Rafe weaves through the crowds, approaching you, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. You watch him duck to speak into your ear.

“Leave with me,” he says so only you can hear him over the music. You look at Liv, who has a sly, knowing expression on her face.

“I can’t abandon my friend just to hook up with you,” you say to him. A painful pang of rejection twists inside him.

“But do you want to?” Rafe asks. He needs to be sure. What if your next words are that you’re with Blake now?

Your pulse is racing. The promise of another night with Rafe is electrifying.

“Yes,” you admit. He smiles to himself, pulling back to look at Liv.

“You gonna be okay if she leaves?” Rafe says, tilting his head towards you.

“Of course, if she wants to,” Liv replies with an amused laugh.

Rafe pulls you towards him, out of the crowd. And for once, he’s actually glad to see Blake, who’s standing by the keg with a few friends.

He wraps his arm around your waist, mumbling to you that he’s going to rip that stupid tape off of you, as he glares at Blake, who’s staring at you two with a disconcerted grimace.

He leads you out of the rowdy house, grip tight on you as if he could lose you again.

The second you’re in Rafe’s dorm room, his hands are on your ass, fingers dipping under the tape. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing him heatedly as you stand by his bed.

You can smell his cologne and his shampoo as his tongue runs over yours.

“You know everyone was looking at you tonight, right?” he says between kisses.

“No,” you scoff. While he’s helped you gain some confidence, you can’t imagine thinking of yourself as the most desired girl in a room.

“I told you not to do that,” he says against your lips. You feel the nylon around your ass lift off your skin as he tugs it away, pulling apart the material, tape unsticking.

“Do what?” you mutter. He grips your ass, feeling the fabric of your underwear on his palms. You lower a hand to undo the knot keeping up the towel on him.

“You pretend like you’re not beautiful and it pisses me off,” he says. Beautiful. He said hot before. But not beautiful. He never used that word with you. “How hard do I have to fuck you for you to get it?”

“Rafe,” you gasp with a giggle.

“How hard?” he asks. “Until you can’t talk?”

His towel drops and he kisses your neck, tugging at the tape bound around your chest. You shift to wrap your hand around his length over his boxers, aching for the feeling of him inside of you.

Rafe loves that you touch him like this now, without any hesitation. He rips the tape off of your chest, his fingers burning.

While you wore panties just in case, you’re glad you went without a bra simply because of the way Rafe breathes when he looks down to see your bare chest.

He fondles your tits with eager, rough movements, squeezing as he clenches his jaw.

“Every guy was staring at you, but only I get to do this.” His lips are against your neck, breath hot.

You tense for a second. He shouldn’t say shit like this. His words are possessive and tender and way too fucking heavy.

But you push yourself out of your head, focusing on how you feel physically, forgetting the emotions that have slowly been tacking themselves onto you like the crumpled tape on the floor.

You dip your hand into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his girth. Rafe inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. You drag your hand to his tip, feeling the warm precum and spreading it with your thumb.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“You like that?” you whisper with a smile. It’s exciting talking like this. You were always quiet when hooking up with a guy, but Rafe has pushed you completely out of your shell.

“Get on my bed,” he says gruffly, pressing your hips back. You lie down, watching his cock spring out of his boxers when he tugs them off.

Rafe almost asks to skip the condom, but it feels too intimate. Too serious. And he’s sure you’d say no.

You pull your panties off as he rolls on the latex and gets on his knees, sinking onto the mattress, hands gripping your ankles. He shifts and rests your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hands skimming down your legs.

He drags a thumb over your wet clit, gazing down at you with yearning as he spreads your slick arousal over you. You moan at the sensation, realizing just how sensitive you are from how long it’s been and how much you missed him.

“You’re fucking soaked,” Rafe rasps. “Who got you like this, baby?”

“You did,” you reply. The words coming out of your mouth are so fucking soothing. He can’t think about anyone else doing this to you. Only him.

Rafe pulls his hand off of you to grip your thigh and holds his cock at its base with his other hand, tapping it over your middle. You look at him, eyes meeting in an exquisite, mutual longing.

“Say please,” he teases.

“You say please,” you reply, smirking. Rafe shakes his head in disbelief and awe and desire, his hair falling over his forehead.

He can’t wait. He guides himself into you, slipping in so easily, feeling just how drenched and tight and warm you are. He groans as you take him in with a deep breath, tilting to feel the curve of his cock.

“That’s so fucking nice,” he whispers, watching himself push into you. “Your pussy is so fucking nice.”

His fingers dig into your thigh as he pulls back and pushes in again. You throw your head back as he shoves himself into you, filling you completely, the pressure hard and incredible.

Rafe’s thumb is on your clit again, rubbing in circles as he thrusts, making you tremble. Your mouth is agape, your hands above your head as he pleasures you.

It’s such a phenomenal view to him. Pleasure written on your face, your tits bouncing, your chest heaving, your body jolting.

You feel your stomach tighten, the rising sensation making you moan. Rafe starts to go harder, rubbing faster, a smile curling on his lips as he watches you.

“I…” you breathe. “Fuck, I…”

“Can’t talk?” he rasps, amused. You bite your bottom lip and moan a giggle, willing yourself to look at him before he has to tell you to.

His gaze is piercing into you as you feel yourself dissolve into ecstasy, your body going numb before it heats with the most amazing feeling you’ve ever had.

Rafe feels you clenching around his cock and he leans over to get as deep into you as possible, your legs bending as his shoulders push you forward.

After you come down from your orgasm, he places his hand on your cheek, dipping his thumb into your mouth.

You stare at him as he drives into you and you wrap your lips around his thumb, tasting yourself. Rafe might just go crazy. You take him so much better than he’s ever had before.

He tightens and you watch the euphoria wash over his face, his brows furrowing and his lips parting. You love that you can do this to him, that a man so commanding and dominant and brash crumbles like this when he’s inside you.

He cums in hard pulses, hips bucking with every jerk, seeing stars. When he slowly pulls out, you close your eyes, sighing in pleasure.

Your palms rest over your eyes, feeling high off the feeling as you feel him shift off the mattress. When you catch your breath, you open your eyes to see Rafe offering you a towel.

“You have fun?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to do the whole aftercare thing, but because it’s not genuine, you’d rather not play along.

It’s clear he wants you to leave with the way he’s holding out the towel, surely wishing you’d cover up and go. You’re not surprised. You sit up, taking the towel and wrapping it around your body.

“C-minus,” you say.

“What?”

“Kidding,” you laugh. You stand to leave and decide to let him deal with the mess of caution tape on his floor, desperate to be alone so you can pull yourself together.

You go so suddenly that Rafe watches his door shut with confusion. He thought you’d wipe yourself down with the towel he gave you, maybe sit a while with him.

He oddly wanted you to stay a little bit. He liked joking around with you earlier tonight. It was fun.

But you were so eager to go. Probably because Rafe is the kind of guy you fuck and forget, and Blake is the kind of guy you make love to and stick around for.

He knows that he’s in a competition he’ll eventually lose because he can’t offer you a relationship. You said yourself he’d be the worst boyfriend ever the night he told you not to cuddle him.

But he’ll happily take these nights with you for as long as possible. And he’ll keep fighting for as many as he can.

When you make it to your dorm, you sit on your bed, breathless. Just when you think the sex can’t get any better with Rafe, it does.

He almost disappointed you with his lack of emotion afterwards, but you’re glad you didn’t give him the power to. He’ll always let you down in that department. As long as you keep any feelings for him at bay, you know you’ll be fine.

After you feel a bit calmer, you check your phone to see five texts.

Liv: didn’t get a chance to tell you but rafe is down BAD for you

Liv: when i told him you were upstairs with blake he looked like he was about to kill someone

Liv: hope you have fun lol :)

Liv: i sure am… i made out with sam after you left… oops

Then you see a block of text in the next notification.

Blake: Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.

(part eight)

author’s note: thank you anon for this iconic idea!!

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#ps if you saw me say this series will be eight parts i updated it to ten!!!#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx smut #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron and reader

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dokyeomini · 2 years

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the deadlift still stands as my fave exercise

#and i don't go heavy on it i am still learning it #but i feel like it improves my daily life the most #yk dishwashing... hanging laundry etc #where i have to slightly bend over #my lower back had started to ache after just a few minutes of doing everyday activities #but it's improving i think #i definitely feel better efter today's workout #im pretty confident my form is ok as well #otherwise I'd be feeling it rn...#i still don't have squat form down tbh....#definitely need a lot of practice before i can think abt going up in weight

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l0v3tast3 · 10 months

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spring fever! — tf141 men

mw2 men helping catgirl!reader through her heat! (simon riley, john mactavish, kyle garrick, john price)

✎ tags: mdni! nsft, catgirl!reader, breeding kink, edging, overstimulation, oral, thigh-riding, praise kink, degradation, abuse of pet names, cockwarming, size kink, size difference, fluff mixed in <3

✎ word count: 2.3k words (not proofread)

✎ author's note: this is purely 100% self-indulgent because i can write whatever i want teehee :] ever since i realized i can just write the smut i want to read myself my life has improved significantly, also i am working on another one of these with phillip, alejandro and könig is anyone would wanna read that (o･ω･o)

masterlist | requests are open!

♡ simon riley — "don't act all shy now, love. weren't y'just begging me for this?" — simon isn't sure if you know what you're getting yourself into while you grind yourself down against his thigh, your juices already soaking through your underwear and quickly making a dark spot on his jeans. his resolve only lasts until you cum just from humping his leg. he has you folded into a mating press before long, your legs hooked over his elbows. — outside of your shared home, simon isn't much of a talker, but the sight of you absolutely brainless under him draws out the filthiest words from his mouth. "makin' such a fuckin' mess on my cock, y'gonna clean it up for me sweetheart? i know how much y'love when i fuck your mouth. or do you only want my cum stuffed into this little cunt? want me to put a baby in y'love? yeah? that's all you can think about right now, isn't it? all y'need is my cock inside you, such a good little whore f'me." — you should have known before you asked for his help that he would abuse the living hell out of your tail; how could he not when it's makes you cum nearly instantly? it doesn't take you long to learn that once he flips you over, you'll soon be an overstimulated mess. simon can't get enough of how you react when he pushes you to that point, clawing at the sheets to try to leverage yourself away from his onslaught and pushing your hips back against him to take more of his thick cock at the same time. your words get jumbled up and incoherent, broken little pleas choked out between moans and cries. eventually he'll slow down to shallow, drawn out rolls of his hips, laying his titan-sized body over yours and asking you what you want. when you keen and press up against him, whimpering his name and trying to push your hips into him again, he'll tell you that you're such a good girl for him and pick up the pace. — he won't edge you as much as he overstimulates you. simon edges you more as a "break", both for himself and for you. even with your heat making you able to take a lot more than what you usually can, he still knows not to push the limits of your body too far. so he'll make sure to tie your hands to the headboard and bury his fingers in your sopping wet pussy in a slow, languid rhythm and lave circles over your clit with his tongue, drawing away each time he feels you tightening up until you're sobbing. you beg him to fuck you and let you cum, trying as much as you can to move against the weight of his hand pressed against your stomach. once he's sure that just touching your clit would probably make you cum, simon finally relents. he'll graze his hands over your thighs, watching as your body twitches just from that. "'s alright love, i'll make you cum. so fuckin' sensitive, wish i could keep ya like this, all needy and sweet f'me," he says quietly, lining the head of his cock up with your dripping hole and bullying his cock in slow. he'll grip your waist tight enough to leave yet another set of bruises when you cum around him, fighting to not cum himself as he fucks you through your mind-shattering orgasm. — despite his roughness, simon will take care of you through all of it without a single (wholehearted) complaint. he'll grumble here and there, chastising you when you'd rather ride him than eat the food he's holding in front of you, but there's a hint of concern to it; simon loves you too much to hurt you or to see you get hurt, so he makes overly sure that all your needs (besides being fucked) are constantly met.

♡ john mactavish — "c'mon bonnie, if ya want my help then y'gotta ask nicely." — johnny loves you, every part of you, but one of the things that he especially loves is your heats. he relishes in the few days it lasts (rejoices on the rare occasion it lasts almost a week). your neediness, your dependency on him, the adoration and near-worship that you finally weren't too shy to show. he loved taking care of you, from bending you over every surface in your home and tugging on your overly-sensitive tail to make you cum fast to spoon-feeding you while you were semi-lucid. — he shows you the same love and worship as always, of course, but he can't help being a near-sadist most of the time. you're just so adorable like this, so pliant and always wanting more from him, anything and everything he would give you. it pulled out a different side of him. john was always a tease, almost always in control, but it was like your greed and lust became his too. "oh, i know bonnie, i know, i'll make ya cum, i promise." he, of course, breaks this promise until you're crying, choking out jumbled pleas for him to make you cum. every few times he pulls away just before you fall over the edge (which doesn't take long at all) he comes back up to be face-to-face with you and scratch and pet the ears sticking out from the top of your head. it just melts you, makes you so cooperative, so brainless and compliant. — when you're nearing your limit, about to pass out, johnny finally gets sweet. he'll give you whatever you ask for, smooth his hands over your overstimulated skin and fuck you slow. he sings you praises for how well you did and talks you through it before you slip into unconsciousness for a few hours, until your body wakes you up again (or his). "sweet lass, just one more for me- fuck, know you can do it. hah- doin' so good. you can, just a little more, i'll make it feel so- so good, bonnie. love y'so much like this, so cute, all f'me. ya gonna cum, sweetheart? fuck! ah, so tight around me, y'want my cum? yeah, good lass." — johnny doesn't leave your side until you're well past recovered; he'll take such good care of you, makes sure you drink excessive amounts of water, makes sure you eat plenty and washes your hair for you in the shower (he fucks you before he cleans you off). when you start waking up more sore than horny, he massages just about every muscle in your body, drags you into a hot bath, and swaddles you in a nest of his clothes and blankets and pillows to rest some more.

♡ kyle garrick — "fuck, slow down, pretty. gonna help you, swear it." — kyle is so sweet with you, kissing you softly and guiding you up and down on his cock after he makes you cum several times with his mouth and fingers. he's so gentle; he'll do his best to calm your frayed nerves, kissing you all over and rubbing his hands over every inch of your skin, whispering choked praises to you as he lets you use him. kyle indulges in your every desire, happily doing whatever you ask him for; he just can't say no to you when you're looking at him with teary, pleading eyes. — once he really gets going, kyle gets more rough with you, manhandling you into different positions so he can fuck his thick cock even deeper into your sopping pussy. he's still sweet with you, groaning out how good you are for him and how much he loves you like this, so needy for him while you're cumming for the umpteenth time that night. once he finally placates you for the time being, he hugs you tight against him as you're both passing out. — he doesn't have much need to make you more content by scratching at your fuzzy ears, but he still loves doing it just to see you melt, just to see your pretty lips spread into a dopey smile and feel you nudge into his hand. kyle doesn't abuse your tail much either; he'll only tug on it when you're being bratty, trying to sink your little fangs in too deep or trying to claw yourself away from the overstimulation before he's done with you. "c'mon baby, just one more for me, you're doin' so- fuck, so good- ahh, that's it pretty, you can take it, know y'can. i know, i- i know, 's okay baby, fuck- y'gonna cum? cum for me, c'mon-" you're both coming together, bodies locking up against each other as he fucks into you a few more times before he collapses next to you, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you all over. — kyle's so good at taking care of you, he loves that you trust him enough to let him be with you for your heat, and he doesn't take that for granted. he'll basically treat you like a goddess the entire time (as if he already didn't the rest of the time). he'll carry you everywhere, chuckling when you cling onto him and nuzzle your face into his neck. he cooks or orders whatever you want, puts your favorite salts and scents in the baths he eases you into (despite your many protests), gives you however much of his wardrobe you need for your makeshift nest. kyle is just so whipped for you, his smile always stretching wide every time he sees your tail curl up in joy because of something he does or says.

♡ john price — "it hurts, sweetheart? can't have that now, can we?" — john swears up and down that he tries his damndest to be gentle and slow and sweet with you. and he is... at first. when you clamber into his lap, pleading for his help while you kiss and nip at his neck, he'll pick you up effortlessly and take you to your shared bed within seconds. after that, it's only moments before he's stripped you down and is worshipping your body- partially because he loves every inch of you and never goes a day without showing you that affection, and partially because of how much more sensitive your entire body becomes during your heat. — it's something he becomes obsessed with pretty rapidly; john will practically study the effects your heat has on you. he won't admit it, but it's obvious how much he gets off on it. how you're so desperate for him, his touch and voice and anything and everything he'll give you. how upset you get when he tries to get you to stay in bed while he goes to a different room of the house. how you need him. it's what slowly drives him to his breaking point where he just can't hold back with you any longer. — you can feel his touch getting heavier, fingers digging into your hips deeper and tongue pressing harder against your clit. when you're coming down from your second high and already being pushed towards your third of the night, your grip on his cropped hair gets tighter and the only sentences you can form are various versions of "mmnh- ple-ease! john- ah, please, need you!". that's when he can feel the last of his self-control slipping from his hands. in record time he'll be throwing your legs over his shoulders, smashing his lips into yours and easily pushing into your drenched cunt. — john always finds it incredibly difficult to say "no" to you, but it won't stop him from being a horrendous tease. he'll tie your hands together behind your back or to the headboard or to your ankles and edges you until fat tears roll down your cheeks (which doesn't take very long). when he gets you to that point he'll wipe away your tears and kiss you sweetly. "shh, i know sweetheart, i'm sorry- just love hearin' you beg. y'did so well for me. think you deserve a reward, yeah?" john will always act sorry after he edges you or doesn't let you touch him or ignores your pussy for more than ten seconds, but with each broken whine and sobbed plea his cock grows impossibly harder. — it's a given that john will exploit the hell out of the effects of playing with your ears and tail. each time he edges you, the number of times he takes a minute to scratch at your ears and coo honeyed words down at you increases. it becomes a routine that after those sessions, when he's fucked you slow enough that you've calmed down a bit, he'll start up with your tail. and when he's gotten his fill of your begging for him to give it a break, he'll act sorry about that too. — as each stretch of your sex marathon comes to an end before you both pass out, he'll wind you both down by sitting you on his lap and having you cockwarming him while he smokes a cigar. you'll bury your face in his chest and start dozing off, worn out for the time being. john will use his free hand to trace his fingers up and down the curves and lines of your back, grinning to himself when you let you little whimpers whenever you move. "finally getting tired, hm? gonna wake us both back up if you keep moving like that, sweetheart."

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