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#everything hinges on that point
mooremars · 7 months
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Just thinking about how absolutely wild the structure of Camelot's songs are within the context of the show. I am sure people have been saying this for 60 years but I want to talk about it now. Like I do genuinely love it but what were they thinking????
The first scene has 3 songs and a reprise. And depending on the version, different amounts of Guenevere starting us off.
Arthur in fact has two songs in the first scene. At least using 2023 as an estimate for timing, he will not sing again for over 45 minutes. After that, over an hour (including intermission). He is the main character. I know a hallmark of most versions is that he can't sing for shit but still.
The way The Simple Joys of Maidenhood barrels straight into I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight like I don't think you're supposed to stack two songs immediately on top of each other in this way.
Genny also has two songs in the same scene later. And this time no one else is getting one in between. The middle of act 1 is for her.
Really all of act 1 is for her because more than half of the songs in it at least prominently feature her. And no one can catch up in act 2.
It's not even close. She has three full songs basically to herself, another one that's probably like 80%, a reprise that's mostly her, another solo reprise in 2023, except for 2023 another song with just her or with Lance, and one song with Arthur.
Iconic
Arthur has four major songs and then the tiny slices of Camelot reprises while Lance only has two or three. Even I can do this math, Genny wins by a landslide.
Depending on the version, the main couple either doesn't have a song together or has a song but it isn't even a love song. They all just sing about each other. Sometimes in front of each other. But together... nah.
There are no songs with the three leads and in fact there are like twice or three times the number of songs with one or two people singing than songs with more than that. I don't know the normal ratio but I feel like usually there's more ensemble stuff.
And like obviously act 1 ends with a monologue and that is brilliant and the best decision ever but also extremely weird that then the last song before intermission is sad Genny.
I am no musicals expert but literally none of this seems to make sense to me and yet it all somehow works and I'm obsessed with it.
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sysig · 4 months
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I’ll be fine, I just have to get it all out of my system (Patreon)
#Doodles#Spoiler alert: It has been got out of my system by this point lol#I had a bad writing day and it was terribly demotivating :P I've gotten over it lol#It was an Offline Monday and the previous several days had been such good writing days! To the point where I was worn out lol#But not recognizing that and expecting to just be able to Keep Going - well it led to a minor crash lol#Again nothing bad just complainy and demotivating I'm fine ♪#I am a little :/ about my devices being in the state they are that certainly doesn't help#My laptop's hinge and my iPod being so old and janky and my poor old tablet - still the main one I'm using lol#I think most of my USB drives are shot on this poor laptop so my new tablet that needs more than just the one just....doesn't work lol#It's a good backup to be sure tho! I do still kinda want a standalone proper-like... Investing in an iPad at some point is probably...#Well I'll worry about it more when it's an Actual Problem - for the moment everything is still working! Not the best but it's Doing!#Back to the writing et al lol - It was my Big Project which I think I've pretty clearly gestured at being an Adventure Time comic lol#I have not in fact rewatched the series beginning to end since finishing it - I've watched certain episodes but not just a front to back#I think a rewatch would be very entertaining! Seeing how all the pieces align from knowing the ending going in :)#But I'm good for the moment lol - I've got enough to work on to keep me going for a while yet haha#And as always I want More More More Tamagotchis#I've got my three but I want more!#Always about money huh :P Slowly but surely
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bitegore · 11 months
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my fucking computa bit me
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fuming over that person who was like “obviously arthur’s worst and most prominent character trait is cowardice” like yes ok he is a coward but also what about the STUBBORNNESS. what about the CONCERNING levels of obsession and fixation. this is “invents his own new arm” “manhunting his best friend across the state” arthur we’re talking about. if he isn’t going to laser focus on something until he runs himself into the ground he’s just not cc sorry
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irisbaggins · 1 year
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Seething as I realise how much they did indeed copy Korrasami, both Dark Horse kiss and Spirit Portal ending. Seething as I realise it's ten years of that fucking colour show, and Korrasami happened before this managed to even be conceptualised. Seething.
#text_iris#eVEN THE COLOURS. FUCK#I am just. Mad#I imprinted on LoK and Zuko (I blame Blue and the Art of Burning for this) and seeing THIS is just aaaa#Like fuck! Colour show WISH they could have as complex and complicated villains as LoK!#Like! Amon Unalaq Zaheer and Kuvira are all complex and complicated villains! With their own ideals and goals!#Like fuck! Zaheer helping Korra in the fourth season is SO GOOD and Kuvira giving herself up! Colour show WISH they could write this good!#Like! Part of me is CONVINCED they saw Vatuu and based Salem off of him like Vatuu came first!#Just!! Aaaa!! Rage!!!#And thinking about that Hbomb video that opened my eyes to how much this how copies ATLA#Urghhhhh anger#Fuckkk you know what I realised#They wanted Ironwood to be a Kuvira. Without understanding why Kuvira WORKS and how she was ALWAYS set up to be like that#And Ironwood WASN'T. Kuvira was set out to fall into an Imperial control freak mindset. Having her Foster Mother be so Anti Monarchy#(And Suyin being SO passionate about her beliefs and Kuvira feeling SO MUCH sets it up so well!!)#But Ironwood WASN'T set up for it! He was a disabled man who wanted to protect people! He never in the first volumes showed a control freak-#-tendency. Kuvira DID and DOES. Her 'protecting' hinges on her having FULL control. To the point of sacrificing her one love#Like!! Seeing more and more of these similarities makes me pissed I ever once liked the colour show!!#Because it tricked me! It used things I was familiar with and loved to lure me in and theN DID EVERYTHING BAD#URGH I should use this energy for my bachelor's thesis instead I'm ranting about a stupid rt show#It's SO BAD and I am ANGRY and I wish this show to cease from my thoughts#Anyway go watch ATLA and LOK they're so much better
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doedipus · 1 year
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elden ring sidequest/subplot tier list
this tier list is inarguable and objectively correct!
s. ranni's gang, volcano manor/rya
a. millicent/the scarlet rot/the haligtree, patches, alexander, sellen, flame of frenzy & adherents
b. fia/rogier/d/godwyn, boc, diallos, roderika, castle morne, kenneth haight, the eternal cities
c. dung eater & the omens, nepheli loux & gideon, corhyn & goldmask, varre, the albinaurics in general, any other minor quest that it's easy to miss big chunks of e.g. blackgaurd big boggart or latenna
d. whatever mogh's deal was, whatever the fire cult's deal was, whatever farum azula's deal was, whatever the ancestral followers' deal was, any other recurring group of enemies that doesn't have an associated speaking role
e. any quest that revolves around handing in collectibles to a stationary dude
f. seluvis, who is that while also being one of the worst person you're still technically able to help
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unproduciblesmackdown · 9 months
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also more odds & ends orville info & more not Not orville/phil info as well:
"In Steinkellner’s version of Summer Stock, Jane Falbury (Danielle Wade) and “Pop,” her father (Stephen Lee Anderson), are struggling to hang on to the family farm. Their farm is one of the few in the Connecticut River Valley that hasn’t been absorbed by the Wingates, whose holdings completely surround theirs.
The widow Margaret Wingate (Veanne Cox), whom son Orville (Will Roland) aptly describes as having eyes “as cold as death itself,” plans to absorb the Falbury farm by the simple expedient of having Orville marry Jane. After all the two kids had decided they were engaged in first grade!
Enter the prodigal younger sister Gloria (Arianna Rosario) who has been seduced by the lure of the Great White Way. She returns to the farm bringing along Joe Ross (Corbin Bleu in the Gene Kelly role), the director of the show that will make her a star, its composer Phil Filmore (Gilbert L. Bailey II), and the entire company. She has generously offered the company, which can’t afford rehearsal space in New York, the use of the family farm’s barn. Sister Jane reluctantly agrees to the intrusion with the proviso that the thespians will double as farm hands.
As rehearsals progress, Phil discovers that Orville, a bit of a doormat who has been raised with the understanding that he will never have to work, is a musical wunderkind. He is enlisted to work his magic on the show’s score and begins to blossom.
Widow Wingate takes umbrage with all this and vows to shut the enterprise down. Fortunately, the cold embers in her soul are stirred to renewed life by her encounter with Montgomery Leach (J. Anthony Crane), the has-been ham enlisted to give Ross’s show some cachet, so all might not be lost.
[...]
They make this Summer Stock a veritable feast of nostalgia. I was especially taken by the amusing way Steinkellner used Jackie Gleason’s theme song “Always” to further widow Wingate’s plot to get Jane and Orville hitched.
[...]
Orville, who has found personal liberation in show biz, is accorded a moment that reminded me of a similar scene in the musical version of The Producers. In a triumphant declaration of his emergence from under his mother’s thumb he exults, “I’m in the theatre! And I love it!” The audience loved it, too.
[...]
As director, Feore has elicited some wonderful performances, especially from subsidiary characters. Veanne Cox is splendid as Margaret Wingate as is J. Anthony Crane as Montgomery Leach, the faded matinee idol. Will Roland (Orville) and Gilbert L. Bailey II (Phil) both have wonderful moments and their intense professional friendship is one of the show’s highlights."
INTENSE PROFESSIONAL FRIENDSHIP you say....and also ofc everything about orville and wanting to be a musician and being in the theatre and he loves it sounds so good. i love it
#summer stock#orville wingate#will roland#also i guess they Are ambiently together / ''engaged'' already then lol#very cute really ''decided they were engaged in first grade''...and illustrative of both just kinda having been stuck in life the whole tim#mention of how the gene kelly epic solo tap sequence that i can muse on context for but Does just kinda happen#now does have more context and like. a part in an arc lol. which also gene/joe just doesn't have much of at all in the film; so (an arc)#needless bit at the end as the reviewer is skeptical this show could be on broadway basically b/c it's not ''edgy'' enough#which is then bafflingly & exhaustingly explained w/juxtaposing ''disclaimers'' abt the content in Other shows on broadway#which is bad; irrelevant; bigoted; and also unfair not just to those shows but summer stock lol. and like everything. and everyone.#get tf outta here....talking about like well gee i guess an ontario reviewer like me might enjoy it but in New York....#like it's an nyt critics pick okay cool it. have Only read glowing reviews save the one critic who Didn't like the warm feelgood deal.#which is sure a thing that's possible to experience (though i don't think it makes for a Well Executed; Useful Review to hinge it on that)#but (a) warm feelgood material isn't like. riskier than what you deem Not ''unfashionably'' ''old-fashioned'' there#& (b) like many reviews point out that the feelgoodness Could've fallen flat or short or been too much but it was balanced / well executed#like don't come in here insulting the show with your supposed compliments lmao....Bizarre brushstroke of [ugh you know bway] shows....#which it then gestures broadly at as shows with a ''message''....just tiresome & useless little tangent at the end smhhh#anyways really do love this for orville. was already wondering if he plays that piano we see them dancing with...their adorable meetcute?#i would like to see it....makes it seem even more likely. or who knows if it's orville just reading some music left At that piano#and singing but also composing? arranging? in doing so....harmonizing....etc#i bet it's a delight. he Does get to work on the show....he's truly getting I Don't Dance'd brought into the show/theatre ft. bisexuality#taking votes for whether he's chad or ryan in that situation. the one not already in theatre but also the one attached to the antagonist
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hawnks · 2 years
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INTRO PARAGRAPH LETS GO GIRLS
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the-everqueen · 1 year
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ngh. just sent the diss to my committee.
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icarianarts · 2 years
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i had an awful time trying to find whatever comic you were talking about called the scarlet letter before i realized its fucking genshin impact. that blonde guy looks so awesome and funny though
Well. Here you go ^_^
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aq2003 · 2 years
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i'm so happy for you buddy :]
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levaagrace · 1 year
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It’s all ‘death of the author!’ until you point out logical fallacies within the story’s narrative. Then it’s ‘but those are the ✨themes✨!’.
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mxliv-oftheendless · 1 year
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\m/
#i keep feeling this crippling anxiety that I am not going to pass this semester#i think it’s because I now have a job off campus that’s eating up time that in the past I’ve been able to use to do more work#because yeah I’ve always gotten worried about failing before… but now#now it feels even worse#i have three big papers to write#one of which is what me graduating with honors hinges on#several smaller assignments that I keep struggling to keep track of#club President things to do#and history club is a whole other thing because I keep worrying that I’m a terrible club president#yeah I’m not doing ok lol…#the worst thing though is that everyone I talk to keeps telling me I’ll be fine#because I’ve always worried about passing semesters and always did pass#so people say that because I’m smart and I’ve passed before that I’ll be okay#and at this point I wanna fucking scream because NO NO I DO NOT FEEL LIKE I’M DOING FINE#that only makes it worse because now on top of everything else I’m scared I won’t live up to everyone’s expectations#there have been moments this semester where I’ve seriously felt like I’m going insane#i fucking hate this#i hate being scared I hate being anxious#i just want everything to be over#because the end of the semester is in a month and a few weeks and the pressure keeps feeling increasingly worse#i had a meltdown during work last week like an actual ugly crying meltdown#fuck this fuck it all to hell#i wanna be done#ignore this please I don’t want advice and I don’t want to be told I’ll be okay I just need to vent#random thoughts are random
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pneumonic-screamers · 3 months
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I don't even know what wrong this time I just feel so empty
#jinx's hijinks#like yeah today was not great#i tried talking to my mother about how the way my brother has been treating me has been affecting me badly#and how it doesnt help when she brushes it off#because as much as i hate saying it the 'its just a joke' excuse doesnt work when thats all i heard when i was literally beung bullied#to the point i wanted to dir at age 9#like it feels so much like that#and maybe im just sensitive. or maybe i just cant make that differentiation because of what ive experienced#but i think menand my feelings should be taken seriously#because i dont choose to act this way. if i could choose to not feel like this i wod#*would#but for some reason my mother is deadset on believing i chose to feel the way i feel#like girl if i could choose i wouldnt be picking wanting to die because my brother wont leave me alone#she thinks i can choose how i act when im on the verge of a meltdown#like no om not choosing to do this i cant control it#because everythings too much and youre son wont stop having a go at me for ever yr hing i do and he keeps making his shoes squeam and if i#hear that sound one more time im going to get violent#and i dont wanna do that#but like if she hust took me seriously and idk actual told him to stop and got him to maybe we woukdnt have been in that situation#idk#im just not feeling like im actually a valued part of my family lately#because it seems like im always the dramatic one and im always dissmissed because of it#but even if i am being dramatic my feeling are still valid becaude itd still effecting me#like i dont understand how people dont get that
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alma-system · 10 months
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i feel so guilty
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endlessthxxghts · 1 month
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Bend Over
Javier Peña x afab!reader || W/C: 4.8k
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Summary: Your dresser craps out on you. Your boyfriend, Javier, comes with you to IKEA to buy a new one. Then, he fucks you on it.
Content/Warnings: I think you know what you guys are getting into based on the summary😗. Reader is able-bodied. Slight implied physical descriptors Javi is taller than reader, and the IKEA dresser is slightly bigger/taller than you (everything else is neutral - no size descriptions - ex. "your form", etc.). Pet names (good girl, querida, cariño, baby, baby girl, mama, mi amor). Implied that reader knows Spanish. A little allusion to our favorite contractor, Joel Miller (blink and you’ll miss it). SMUT 18+ MDNI. Public sexual activity (exhibitionism). Finger fucking. Edging. Slight undertones of BDSM dynamics. Javi’s filthy mouth. Thigh riding. Hickey/marking. P in V unprotected sex. Choking. Breeding kink (I’m not sorry). Cum play. Anal play. Brief pussy licking + rimming. Allusion to further sexual activity. I thiiiink that’s it… let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: HIII I’M BACK! I went to ikea to buy a new dresser. And the thots between @javierpena-inatacvest and I ran wild. So, this was born.👹 Also, I no longer have a tag list, but I teased this story TWICE in some WIP tag games, and a few of you were giving me so much love and wanting me to let you know when this story was posted, so I’m adopting the tag list (at da bottom) one last time to say how much I love you all. 🥹 I’m sorry this took me so long. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!!
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG
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It was supposed to be just a trip to IKEA. It was supposed to be a productive day of building your dresser and rearranging your room. That is what it was supposed to be. 
How it ended up with you getting your guts rearranged on top of said dresser—you’re not so sure. But, considering this is Javier Peña you’re talking about, maybe you have a slight indication of why your day ended up the way it did. 
It was early this morning when your dresser decided to shit on you; all you did was slide the door open, and it completely pulled off of its hinge. Now, you don’t mind a doorless dresser, it’s modern, you tried to convince yourself, but when you pulled out the second drawer and the wood snapped in half, scattering your panties all over the ground—yeah, okay, it was definitely time for a new one. 
You called your boyfriend after you cleaned up your clothes, and asked if he wanted to come with you on your hunt for the new piece of furniture. Why are you even asking? he scolded as he saddled up into his Jeep and made his way to your place. 
He stepped out of his seat in the driver side, rounding the hood to pull you in for a lengthy kiss as he pulled the passenger side door open for you. “Well, hello to you, too, baby,” you giggle as you break the kiss for a breath of air. He leaves a slap to your ass as he guides you by your hips into the passenger seat. He even buckles you in, stealing one more kiss before you two head off. 
You thought shopping for a new dresser would be simple: get in, choose a sizable one that could fit everything your previous dresser could, and also make sure it matches the rest of your room’s theme. Simple, right? Wrong. As long as Javier was involved, he took his sweet time really studying each option you were pointing out—analyzing it to ensure it wouldn’t crap out on you like your original one did. 
“How long did you have this dresser?” He asked as he was pulling into the IKEA parking lot. 
“Mmm, I don’t know,” you thought, “maybe a few years?”
“A few years?!” Javier asked, exasperated. “Where the hell did you find that fucking thing?”
You let a beat of silence pass before you answered. “...I thrifted it,” you admit weakly. 
Javier puts the car in park, his face in utter shock at what just came out of your mouth. “Querida, what-” he starts. 
You pull him in immediately, shutting him up with your lips against his. It works, of course. “Let’s go?” you ask. 
“Y-yeah, vamos (let’s go),” he says, flustered. 
“Javi, c’mon,” you whine, feeling exhausted after his analysis on your third option since the first two didn’t pass the Peña inspection. “Since when were you a contractor? The first two were perfectly fine, baby, it’s IKEA for crying out loud.”
He scoffs. “Living on the ranch with Pop,” he replies to your sarcastic remark. “You and I are both aware I know my way around some handiwork,” he adds as he looks back to you, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face. 
You want to roll your eyes, but you can’t help the way your body ignites to the suggestion laced in his words. “Pendejo,” you mutter to yourself, fighting the heat from making it to your face. 
You walk around some more while your boyfriend opens every nook and cranny of the wooden frame, but then right as you turn your body, you find it. The dresser. HEMNES. You quickly make your way to it, running your hands along the dark brown surface, crouching down to open up and see how much space is in the drawers—which, it’s very spacious. The drawer itself is taller than your waistline, probably reaching just at your belly button. It’s perfect. “Baby, wait, come here! I think I found one!” You call out. 
Javier follows your voice, intrigued by your excitement—you didn’t show this much enthusiasm with the other ones he was looking at. He rounds the corner and is met with quite a view. You are bending over the top of the dresser, on your tippy toes, trying to feel for the depth of the dresser. He sees you settle your hands at the edges of the top and shake it a little, testing out its durability while also unknowingly wiggling your ass. Fuck me, he thinks. Quickly adjusting his pants, he makes his way to you, situating his body directly against yours as he cages you in. 
“Jav-” you softly gasp, not expecting to feel him. Immediately you’re pulling yourself up, still on your tippy toes, but your back is now flush against his chest. 
“Ay, Dios mío,” he grunts as he whispers in your ear, “Querida, please get up.” His hands are on your hips, pulling you away from the dresser. You turn in his hold, a giggle leaving your throat as you look at his stressed out expression, realizing why his reaction was so pained. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask him quietly. “Saw something you like, huh?” You pull him in by his neck, kissing the side of his mouth before you pull away from him completely. Gesturing to the dresser, you ask, “Does this one pass the inspection, sir?” 
He glares at you before he replies. “Yeah, let’s get this one.”
Your eyebrow quirks up. “You didn’t even look at it.” 
“I saw enough, cariño,” he says gruff, looking at the tag on the display and taking note of which aisle the box will be at. 
You know your man well enough to know when he’s turned on, and that little unintentional stunt you pulled when making sure HEMNES was the right dresser for you—oh, it absolutely sent him over the edge. You decided to let him brew in his own arousal until you checked out your purchase, but the moment you set foot in his car again, you were set on starting something you wanted him to finish. 
“Thank you again for coming with me, baby,” you say as he settles back into the driver seat, your hand taking its seat on his upper thigh. 
The muscle twitches underneath your palm. “Mhm,” he mutters, voice wavering at your contact. Just as Javier puts the car in drive, he’s immediately pushing it back to park because your hand slides higher, closer, to the hardening bulge between his legs. His hips softly buck into your grasp; you take one look at him, and you can see the veins in his neck popping. A victory smile graces your face as his turns into a scowl. “What are you doing?”
You feign as much innocence as possible. “What am I doing? I’m just saying thank you, baby, I can’t tell you thank you?” 
“Right,” he says unconvinced. Your fingers continue to draw little shapes across the strained material of his pants. You go to cup him entirely, but the strength of his hand stops you. 
He releases your hand and gets out of the car, the car still running. He is at your side faster than you can take your own seatbelt off. He’s pulling your door open and giving you no chance for debate, his hand wraps around your jaw and pulls you into a bruising kiss—a messy yet calculated dance of teeth and tongue, and in pulling away he’s biting your bottom lip, pulling the sweetest little desperate whimper from your throat. He clocks the way your hips softly grind into his seat. 
“J-jav,” your voice shakes, “w-what are you doing-”
His grip on your jaw tightens, giving you a little shake as he speaks. “You had your fun, cariño,” he breathes. “My turn now.” 
His hand leaves your face and snakes down the front of your body, unzipping your jeans as you just stare wildly at the sight below you, your breathing erratic as your body anticipates his next move. 
“We- we’re in the fucking parking lot still, Javi!” You whisper yell at him, pissed, even though your body is doing absolutely nothing to stop him. He smirks at that fact. You want this. 
“Guess you’ll just have to keep quiet for me, yeah?” His fingers slip past your jeans, past your underwear, and you’re fucking soaked. His middle and ring finger bypass your clit, circling your entrance to gather the wetness accumulating before he comes back up to circle your throbbing bud. 
“Oh, fuck,” you yelp out, your eyes rolling back and your hips pushing into his hand as you hiss out in the pleasure. At your volume, Javi’s quick to stop his ministrations, cupping your mound and squeezing you as a warning. If the space allowed, you know he would’ve slapped your cunt. This alternative is equally as dizzying. 
“Open your eyes, baby,” he rasps. Your eyes flutter open. “You see all these people, huh? You want them to see you? See my good girl getting finger fucked in broad fucking daylight?”
“F-fuck, Jav” you whimper, much quieter this time, as your eyes land back on your man’s as you try and grind yourself on him. Javi’s fingers find your entrance then, sliding in with ease as a new wave of arousal pours out of you. 
“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” His fingers speed up their momentum as he adds his thumb into the mix, hurtling you much closer to your finish line than you anticipated. 
“Baby, I’m c-close, I’m- fuck- I’m gonna cum, Javi, I-” you bring your hand up over your mouth to stifle the sobs that are about to leave your mouth.
“Yeah, baby? Gonna give us a show?” He asks, his breathing just as erratic as yours. All you need is one more little push from his thumb on your clit, and then-
“No!” you cry.
Right as you were about to fall over the edge, Javier completely pulls his fingers out of you, standing up straight as he licks his fingers off. Your hips don’t realize he left you as they buck a few more times, chasing the feeling of what could have been. 
“Baby, please, I was so close,” you heave, your heart rate equivalent to that of a hummingbird. 
Javier leans down into the car, slotting his lips against yours terribly slow; your taste lingers on his tongue. He pulls away. “Sorry, mama,” he whispers. “Only I get to see you fall apart like that.” 
He zips and buttons your pants up, leaving you a stunned, aroused, wet mess as he makes his way back to the driver seat and pulls out of the parking spot, driving back to your place as if nothing even happened. 
The drive home is short, but it feels like the longest drive you’ve ever had to endure. He rests his hand on your thigh the entire time, squeezing you every now and then as his pinky leaves featherlight touches where you need him most. He talks to you during the drive—about what, you honestly have no clue, but it seemed the conversation was enough for him to sustain alone. 
You’re brought out of your daze when his hand grabs your jaw, turning you to look at him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, knowing damn well what’s got your head in the clouds. 
The throbbing between your legs remained consistent—worse, even—on the drive home, so no you’re not fucking okay. You don’t tell him that, though. “Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your vocal cords to string together something coherent. 
He pulls your lips to his—a lingering one, one that has your mind slipping further. Breaking the embrace, he says softly, “Go unlock the door, amor, while I carry the box in, yeah?” 
On wobbly legs, you make your way to your door, missing the hole a few times but eventually the key slides in with ease. You toss them into the bowl on the entryway table, making your way to the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water to contain yourself until Javier comes inside. 
Apparently, you’re way more distracted than you thought, because one gulp down and he’s behind you—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck. You set the glass down a little harshly, its weight suddenly increasing tenfold with the way he’s on you. 
“Baby,” you whine, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “Please.”
Your boyfriend is turning you around then, turning you to face him, and his mouth is on yours, licking and sucking as his body pushes you up against the fridge, your head landing with a soft thud as his mouth starts to descend down your neck while his fingers work your buttons and zipper for the second time today. 
He’s pulling your bottoms down to your ankles—they’re loose on your form, so they don’t restrict you too much from opening your legs when he slots his thigh in between you, hitting right against your core. 
His lips never leave you, biting and kissing every inch he can reach while his hands find their home at the globe of your asscheeks, securing his grip as he begins a steady pace of your crying pussy back and forth on his clothed thigh. 
“Just like that, cariño, I can feel you fluttering on me already, holy fuck,” he groans as he continues his assault on your chest, leaving pretty bruises all over the valley of your breasts. “Making such a mess, pretty girl,” he mutters into your skin. 
Your hands snake to the curls at the back of his head, yanking them as he brings you back closer and closer to the finish line. He brings his lips back to yours sloppily, one hand leaving your ass to paw at your chest, his fingers rubbing and twisting at your nipples; they harden in his touch.
Your eyes struggle to stay open, his tight jeans providing the yummiest friction against your clit. “I- I’m gonna- please, Jav, I- I need to cum,” you sob. 
His hand at your chest snakes down your body, following the path to your sex. Just as you think he’s about to slip his hands between your legs, his hand changes direction, both hands going up to grip your waist to stop you from moving. His thigh leaves your core, and you’re fighting—your hips chase his muscle, your fingers scrambling to pull him flush against you, but he doesn’t budge. It’s no use. Your high is gone again, painfully forced back to the start line as Javier bends down to grab your panties and work their way back up your legs. 
You’re a heaving mess, tears falling from your eyes as pathetic little protests fall from your lips. 
Exhausted, you sigh and finally blurt out, “Javier Peña, what the fuck are you doing?” 
You can see the faintest shit-eating smirk fall on his face before he mirrors what you did earlier: feign innocence. “Gotta go build your dresser, mi amor.” 
“I can fucking build it later.” 
“But I’m already here. I’ll do it.” 
“Yeah, but your presence is needed elsewhere,” you say, annoyed. You faintly gesture to your sobbing cunt, silenced by your soaked underwear. 
“But if I’m here, I’ll do it, so you don’t have to,” he says, placing a chaste kiss to the side of your mouth. 
“Javi,” you whine, hoping a thousand different ways of are you fucking serious right now translates to him in the tone of your sexual frustration. 
“Just sit pretty for me while I go do it real quick, okay, cariño?” 
Not giving you the chance to respond, he drags you by the wrist to your bedroom, forcing you to get settled in the reading chair you have in there—a prime spot to watch him get all sweaty as he works. Great. 
You wouldn’t have riled him up if you had known this was the kind of torturous game he had in mind. 
Twenty minutes in, and Javier is sweating alright, but it’s not for the reasons you’re thinking. Yeah, it’s a physical strain building this dresser, but this is fucking light work for him. 
No, he’s sweaty, sticky, and disgustingly hot because his dick is at his full potential, throbbing and leaking at everything you put him through—and everything he put himself through, pulling you to the brink of orgasm twice without letting you fully submit to it. He damn near always gets off when you do, and teasing you like this teases him just as much, if not more. 
He’s almost done, he just has one more drawer to put together and slide into place, but he takes a step back and uses his arm to wipe the sweat across his forehead, his breathing heavy during the action. It takes everything in you not to completely melt at what he’s forcing you to witness, a faint whimper escaping you at the sight of him. 
It takes him barely a minute to get the last drawer assembled before he attempts sliding it into place. It goes in with ease at first, but before it can fully shut, the drawer gets stuck, unable to close by an inch. What the fuck, he mutters under his breath, lifting it up and wiggling to see if it’s just a kink inside the railing. Your jaw falls a little open at the vulgarity of his mouth; you are way too wound up and everything he’s doing right now has your pussy doing backflips, somersaults, cartwheels—you name it. She’s very eager. 
Fed up with the drawer, Javier completely opens the drawer and then slams it shut, using his hips to give the drawer a full-force push. The slam of the wood is deafening, but it does nothing to hide the sweet little gasp that comes out of you, his cock twitching at the sound. 
A high-pitched, breathy squeak of an oh fuck leaves your mouth, and Javier turns to check on you. He sees your fingers skating down your front, running your middle and ring finger over your soaked center, your clit’s fire immediately reigniting at the contact. 
“¿Cariño?” He calls, a sternness evident in his tone. You know not to test that tone. Your fingers’ movements pause, your eyes meet his and they’re dark. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jesus fuck, he doesn’t even know if he has the strength to fuck you like he was planning on, the sight of you touching yourself has a fire igniting through every vein in his body. 
Your eyebrows are furrowed, nervousness written all over your face. “I…um, I-” you start. 
“Get up,” he cuts you off. 
“What?” You say softly, your brain already scrambled eggs and unable to register what he just asked of you. 
His singular eyebrow raises as he stalks closer to you, his hard gaze looking down at you as your pussy cries even more at the attention. Now his command registers, and you’ll be damned if you have to make him repeat himself. 
You remove your hand from your center, lifting yourself off your chair. He snags you by your waist, pulling your body flush against his front as he steals the breath from your lungs, your tongues meeting hungrily. You moan into his mouth, your hands slowly wrapping around his neck, but before you can grip his sweet curls, he’s pulling away from you, your surprised gasps blessing his ears as he flips you roughly but with ease towards the direction of your new dresser, already in its place secured against the wall. 
“Javi,” you whimper again for what feels like the millionth time already. 
“Dime qué quieres, cariño,” (tell me what you want) he rasps in your ear, his hands skating down your front and resuming what you so desperately started.
“F-fuck-” you start, “fuck me, Javi, please, please fuck me,” you beg, your heart stuttering as he dips his middle finger into your entrance.
He kisses your temple as your eyes fall shut, a contrastingly sweet gesture for the way he’s about to ruin you right now. 
“Then bend over.” 
Now that sobers you up a little. You start to crane your neck in his direction. “W-what?” But he’s quick to grab your jaw, bringing your eyes back to your dresser. “Go do what you were doing earlier, baby. Bend over that dresser for me,” he says, soft but stern, then he’s taking a step back, letting you get there on your own. 
So hooked on his body heat, you can’t help the shudder that leaves you, but ultimately you’re making your way to your new dresser—picking yourself up on your tippy toes to lean over the top, just like you were doing with the store’s floor model. “L-like this?” You ask, voice trembling in anticipation. You stick your ass out a little extra for good measure. 
You hear his belt buckle before you register his deep grumble. “Yeah, baby,” he tells you, slowly making his way to your backside. “So good for me,” he breathes, his fingers hooking into the hem of your underwear and letting them fall to the ground. You step out of them, knowing his next step is gonna be to nudge your legs further open—and he does, using his foot to nudge both of yours outwards. 
He runs his middle finger through your slick as he lets his jeans fall, your hips push further into his touch, chasing the pleasure you’ve been buzzing for all morning. 
“Baby, please,” he hears escaping your mouth. 
“Nuh uh, baby,” he tuts, “I told you. You had your fun already, it’s my turn.” 
He runs his fingers through your wet seam, properly soaking his digits before he brings his hand to his own arousal, covering himself in your slick. He groans at the feeling. Javier crowds himself behind you, his tip immediately mirroring the path of his fingers. He catches himself against your clit, and he smirks at the wrecked sounds of your heavy breathing. 
He pushes himself into you, slow and steady, getting you comfortable in his size. His fingertips are digging little bruises into your hips—his way of grounding himself from absolutely pummeling into you from the get go. 
You two have been together for quite some while, but Javi knows he’s big. It’s evident in the way you mewl and convulse every time he’s inside of you. Too big to get used to, yet perfect for the slight tinge of pain he knows you love. 
“Baby, please move,” you pant. 
“You sure, cariño?” He says softly, his dominant demeanor fading to make sure you’re alright. 
You reach back to grab onto his hand and drag it up your own body, settling his long digits around the base of your neck. With a squeeze of your hand over his: “Fuck me, Jav, please.” 
At your queue, he’s pushing himself into you entirely. “Yeah, baby?” He snarls. “Want me to fuck you like this?” His hips form a hard pace, your hips digging into the ledge of the dresser. “This what your pretty little pussy wants, huh? What she’s been fucking crying for, baby?”
“Fuck-” you gasp. “Fuck, yes- Javi, yesyesyes! Amor, please,” you wail, your eyes rolling back as the pressure of his fingers on your neck restrict your blood flow, filling your body with a euphoria only he can give you. 
His eyes scan down your body, taking in every inch of you with nothing but pure adoration. The sweetness fades when his eyes zone in on where your two centers meet. He lets out an audible moan at the sight, sending your pussy fluttering at the sound. “Look at you, bebita, fucking creaming on me, holy fuck,” he groans, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.
“I- I’m close, baby, fuck-” your breath stutters. “Touch me, Jav, I- I need you,” you moan. 
“Shh, I’ve got you, mi amor.” Javi’s hand on your throat leaves you and coasts down your spine, his grip fixing itself on the globe of your ass. 
He reaches down with his thumb to gather some of your slick, dragging it up to your tight, more inexperienced hole. You gasp when you feel it, your ass bucking further into his touch. “Oh, my baby girl likes that? You like your ass being played with, cariño?” He taunts, hooking his thumb inside. “Want to me to fuck you there next time?”
“Fuck- yes- please,” you whimper, your pussy fluttering around him at his words. His other hand snakes to your front and reaches for your clit, drawing tight, calculated circles on you. “Oh, fuck-!” you yell out.
“That’s it, baby, fucking- dámelo, fucking soak me, querida” he forces out between his teeth. Your body twitches in his grasp, knuckles stark white against your dresser, eyes clamped shut as you cry out in the overwhelming pleasure consuming every inch of your body. “Fuck,” he groans, your sounds forcing his balls to pull taut. Javi’s fingers speed up along with his thrusts, hurtling you towards your long-awaited climax. 
It’s overstimulating, him fucking into you so harshly as every nerve ending in your body pops off like fireworks. Yet, you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you, the way his pace stutters for barely a second, and you know he’s close. It’s overstimulating, yes, but you want, no, need him to continue, you need him to chase his own finish line—you need him to root himself so deep inside you, you’ll feel traces of him for months on end. 
“You’re close, I can feel it,” you gasp, building your own rhythm of your hips to help him along. “Need it, baby, need you inside of me,” you pant, your voice desperate. You pull yourself off the dresser and push your back into his chest, both his hands leaving your body to grip onto the darkwood, caging you in. 
“Yeah?” you feel his heavy breath fan across your cheek. “Tell me how fuckig’ bad, querida, wanna hear it,” he says, voice strained.
You look back at him as best you can in this angle, your lips ghosting his jaw as the slick sounds of you grow louder. “Need you so bad even plan B can’t help us- God- please cum inside of me, Javier Peña, fucking give it to me,” you beg, your moans echoing the walls and rattling every fibre of his being, pushing his body into a state of pure ecstasy as he begins to empty himself into you. 
“Oh…fuck,” he grunts, his hips coming to a halt as he nearly wheezes through his orgasm. Once the sensitivity calms down, Javi pumps himself in and out of you a few more times for good measure, pushing his load deep inside of you. You can feel the way he slides in with a wet ease, and it makes butterflies in your belly erupt, a small gasp of a giggle, knowing that the soaked sensation isn’t because of solely your own product. 
“Fucking perfect,” he grumbles, slowly pulling himself out of you. He takes a small step back to get a look at your used cunt, puffy and glistening. His mouth literally waters. 
Javi drops to his knees, settling his broad palms on each of your ass cheeks to keep the view of you open for him. Slowly, he leans in, the flat of his tongue running over your delicate pearl through your cum-soaked folds, a mix of you and him blessing each taste bud on his tongue. He hears your breath hitch. 
He brings his tongue back in, collecting up the salty combination, before he’s on you again, mapping out the ring of your puckered muscle before he softly peppers the area in sweet kisses, your rear slightly irritated with his repeated slamming into you. 
He pulls himself away, giving you a moment to turn around; your back is to the dresser now. He places several kisses on your thighs, giving a few more kitten licks to your center before he’s rising to his feet and pulling you in for a deep yet gentle kiss. You can taste both you and him, and it makes your heart want to burst at the seams with warmth. 
“You okay?” He asks softly as his lips break away from yours. 
“Always with you,” you offer bashfully. 
“Good,” he says firmly, kissing the tip of your nose. You hear his hand smack the top of your dresser a few times. “I guess this thing is pretty fucking durable, huh?” 
“Mmmm, maybe. I think it needs to pass one more test,” you tell him. 
His eyebrow quirks up, you can see his mustache twitch, fighting his smirk. “And what test would that be, mi amor?” 
Taking a step back out of his hold, you back up into the dresser again, grabbing onto the ledge and you jump, spreading your legs wide open for him to fit in between. 
You can see the way his eyes flash impossibly darker. He stalks up to you again, his hands squeezing your thighs before he’s back on his knees, his head immediately burying himself in your core. 
Oh, yeah, this dresser passes the test, alright. 
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Tagging those who showed interest when I posted the WIP !! @honeyedmiller , @punkshort , @joels-shitty-puns , @bearsbeetsbeskar , @janaispunk , @starry-eyes-love
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