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quokkacore · 2 years

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crawling back to you | s.jn (m)

minors dni with this post

summary: the last time you and johnny saw each other, it didn’t end well. what happens now, when you show up and try to let him go, even if you don’t want to?

pairing: stripper!johnny x mobboss!reader

genre: SO much angst, smut, fwb-to-lovers, stripper!au, mafia!au

warnings: taeyong sweetie i am SO sorry, language, alcohol consumption, sexual content, mentions of murder and mob/gang related violence, implied bisexual reader (could also be interpreted as pansexual whichever one u want rlly), reader has commitment issues and issues expressing her emotions, both johnny and reader are implied to be switches and switch dynamics often but here johnny is domming (sorta), at one point johnny calls reader a bitch (and not in a fun kinky way), they’re both low-key assholes (aka not the Healthiest of Relationships), johnny brushes y/n off, dubious consent if you squint?, safe-wording (they still kind of have sex after they’ve talked through it so regardless of the safe word it’s consensual), degradation, non-penetrative sex, praise kink, nipple play, biting, scratching, minor exhibitionism???, cunnilingus, cumplay, overstimulation

word count: 6.7k

song recs: j balvin & bad bunny - la canción // nathy peluso - mafiosa // nathy peluso - business woman // nathy peluso - delito // kali uchis - aguardiente y limón // kali uchis - fue mejor

a/n: happy belated valentines day! i know i’ve been inconsistent with posting but i promise i’m trying to finish all of the fics i have overdue. hopefully this is a start.

masterlist

The club was louder than you remembered. Yes, you remembered the thumping bass, the lights constantly flashing on your face. But everything seemed different somehow.

Maybe that was because you were the one that was different.

The second Taeyong saw you in the crowd, he ran up to you, only to be blocked by your two bodyguards. You waved them off almost immediately, knowing Taeyong would never want to harm one of his highest paying clients.

“Miss L/N,” He hummed, “You’re back! We were wondering when you’d return.”

“I’ve been away,” You replied, not meeting his enthusiasm, “Business trip. A long one. I’m glad to be back. Who’s dancing tonight?”

“Ten is up on the main stage right now. After that, Seulgi and Irene are performing together, then, uh, let me think…” A sly grin spread across his face, “Johnny. He’s the main event tonight.”

You nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Private rooms are still the same as always, right?”

Taeyong grinned. “Oh, they’ve gone up… a little, but not too much. You’ll just have to choose quickly. You know how fast they go, especially with the lineup we have tonight. I can have one set up for you, you just let me know.”

You nodded, face stoic. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Not saying another word, you stalked off toward the bar. The bartender—Jaehyun—seemed to eye you with curiosity. “It’s been a long time since I saw you around here,” He said, speaking over the music. The song was slow yet sensual, and you sat down, facing the stage, leaning back against the bar.”

“I had issues to tend to,” You answered, “Can I just get some scotch?”

He nodded. “On it,” He answered.

You watched the dancer—Ten—up on stage. His movements were graceful, feline. Your eyes followed his every movement, wondering deep down what the vast swathes of his oiled-up skin tasted like.

This is what you liked about this club, The Muse. Despite it being a strip club, you found it more tasteful than some of the other ones around the city. You supposed that some people might find loud, bass-filled strip clubs with ripped men twerking in jockstraps or excessively humping the stage to be extremely appealing, but it wasn’t quite your thing.

You preferred toned-down, restrained yet sensual. Classier wasn’t quite the word, nor was it more conservative—classy implied that the other type of strip clubs were devoid of class, when you knew both were the same job, just different styles. And the words strip clubs and conservative belonged nowhere in the same sentence, unless the words are not at all were in between.

So you settled for different. You enjoyed coming to The Muse because the music wasn’t too loud, the dancing was teasingly seductive, and the alcohol was decent, and there was no particular look or gender to any of their dancers. Ten was lithe, androgynous. You knew of at least one dancer who was of a thicker build, that danced here on Thursdays and was one of the prettiest girls you’d ever seen.

And then there was Johnny. As you watched Ten wrap up his number, and Jaehyun handed you your scotch, your mind drifted to your… favorite dancer.

Tall, well-built, with dark, alluring eyes. His dancing and his gaze were an absolutely lethal mix. In your time frequenting The Muse, you’d let many dancers into your bed—some out of genuine mutual interest, most because you’d offered a hefty price.

But Johnny wasn’t drawn in by the money—not completely. He was drawn in by the mystery of you. Yes, initially you’d lured him in with the promise of a hefty sum of money in his bank account. But he kept coming back. And for almost a year, you let him. You wanted him to.

He learned your habits, what made you tick, what made you go crazy in bed. You learned how he’d come to be involved in all of this: he’d needed some extra cash during college, and quickly learned he didn’t want to be an accountant, but that his true passion was dancing, and that he’d actually managed to get his bachelor’s—just in case, he’d told you—but this was where he wanted to be. That he loved all of this: the money, the attention on him, the rush of adrenaline he got every time he got onto that stage. And he loved a power struggle.

The two girls, Seulgi and Irene, were hypnotic. They seemed to entrance not only the audience, but each other as well. You’d fallen into bed with Seulgi once—you knew the power she had. Irene was also a force to be reckoned with, she was a siren. They held onto each other's waists and swiveled their hips, gaze moving between each other and the audience. Not only was there one siren, but two—and all of the people watching were drifting dangerously close to the rocks.

Their number went on, and you nursed your scotch. Throat and chest burning, but not for the same reason. As much as you enjoyed watching the two girls caress each other and dance around the stage and the pole, your heart and mind were elsewhere.

The last time you’d seen Johnny, actually. That’s where you were. Three months ago.

His head was resting in the crook of your neck. The two of you were panting, coming down from a mutual peak of ecstasy. One of his hands was cradling your neck, the other around your waist.

“Someone was eager,” He mumbled, and you huffed and slapped his shoulder, but there was no real malice in it.

“You act as if you didn’t call me mommy last time we did this,” You said into his hair. He laughed softly, and pressed a kiss to your collarbone. The silence was filled with the sound of his soft breathing, until he broke it again.

“I’ve been thinking,” He murmured, lifting his head to look at you. In the dark, you could make out most of his features, but only so much.

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I know… I know you don’t like commitment. You’ve told me a million times. I just… Y/N, I really like you.”

You squirmed beneath him, looking off to the side. “Johnny…”

“I know, I know. Just please listen to me. We don’t have to call this anything. Not if you want. I just want to know that you’re not out there with anyone else. You don’t have to be mine, necessarily… Just don’t be anyone else’s.”

Your hands tried to move him off of you, but his hands came up to grasp yours. You sighed.

“You know why I can’t do that, Johnny.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “You could come to me. I would never go to you. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

Again, you tried to push him off. This time, when you tugged at his hands, he let go and sat up. “You would resent me for that. What about when you need someone? I couldn’t do that to you. You don’t deserve that.”

He shook his head. When you tried to touch his face, he pushed your hand away. “It’s not about what I deserve. You think I don’t know that me willing to ask for so little is pathetic? I know I deserve better. But that’s not what I want.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “And just what is it that you want, Johnny?” Your voice was hoarse.

Finally, he looked at you. Having sat up, his face caught some of the streetlights from the outside. In the dim light, he looked so pained. “I want you, Y/N. I want us.”

You clenched your jaw. When you spoke, your voice was barely a whisper. “I want that too.”

His eyes lit up, but then you opened your mouth. “But it’s not something I can give you. Not without putting you in danger.”

“I don’t care about the danger,” He argued, voice suddenly louder, “I’m not a kid. I’m a big boy, okay? I know how to take care of myself.”

You pressed a palm to your forehead, looking at your lap.

“My mother,” You said, “Was killed by a car bomb when I was a little girl. All because my dad refused to let some gang of kids deal their drugs on his turf. I don’t doubt that you can take care of yourself. But there are some things that are out of your control. Yes, what I helped build is powerful. But it’s fragile, and I’m not untouchable. The people who I care about, even more so. Which is why I don’t like to care about anyone.”

He didn’t answer. You looked up at him. He was staring at the bedroom door, and you felt your heart clench.

“You’re the first person I’ve truly cared about in a long time, Johnny. Which is why I can’t put you in danger. I refuse to do it.”

Johnny’s hands clenched into fists, before standing. He started pulling his clothes on, without saying anything, or even looking at you. You stood, sensing the waves of anger rolling off of him. You pulled on your shirt and your underwear haphazardly, ignoring Johnny’s cum trickling down the inside of your leg.

“Johnny.”

He didn’t answer, pulling on his shirt, before reaching for his jacket. You sighed, trying to reach for his shoulder.

“Johnny, please—”

“Save it!” He snapped, slapping your hand away. “I’m tired of this, Y/N. I’ve given all of myself to you. I’ve laid it out bare, and you don’t even care. You’re the coldest woman I’ve ever fucking met.”

You took a step back. “I don’t care? Of course I care, Johnny. That’s why I’m doing this. I would love to be with you. But the syndicate is growing more and more fragile by the day. I’m trying to hold onto control, but there’s only so much I can do. And if it becomes weak enough? I have a long list of enemies who would love to hurt me, who know how this game works. They know that the closest way to hurt me without touching me directly is to go after the people I—the people I care about.”

Following him into your living room, you gnawed on your lip. “I’m not going to watch you get hurt, or even worse, get killed—I would never forgive myself if they touched you—”

He whirled on you. “Jesus, Y/N, what’s it going to take for you to realize that I don’t care about being in danger? I could get blown up tomorrow and I’d be the happiest man on Earth if you would just let me in—”

“Don’t talk like that,” You snapped, “Why would you even say something so horrible—?”

“Because I’m in love with you, okay!?”

Johnny’s eyes widened immediately, as if he hadn’t meant to say that. Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water. Your mouth went dry, and your heart began to race.

He took your lack of response as a response itself. He shook his head, scoffing. “And of course you’re not even going to say it back,” He muttered, more to himself, “Even though I know you feel the same way.”

Heading for the door, you realized what was happening. “Johnny, wait—don’t go—”

“No.” Johnny shook his head, pulling his shoes on. He reached for the door handle, before turning to give you one last nasty look. “I’m not going to spend another second with you, you—you fucking cold-ass heartless bitch.”

You stumbled back as though you’d been punched, face falling. And a few seconds later, your door slammed shut, the sound so loud it made your ears ring.

As the two girls launched into another song, you stared down at the pieces of ice swirling around your glass. When you looked up and around the place, among the business men and waiters and waitresses attending to them, you saw Taeyong, watching the girls as if studying for scrutiny. You pushed yourself off of the bar and walked toward him, drink still in hand.

I must be insane, you thought to yourself, before downing the rest of the scotch. You winced and your throat burned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Taeyong without the extra push.

“I was wondering when you’d come over,” He said with a knowing smile. Your face remained straight.

“Does Johnny still have any available slots tonight?” You asked. Taeyong thought for a second, before nodding.

“He has one at around 12:30,” He answered, nodding. “I could squeeze you in, if you’d like.”

Pulling out your checkbook, you wrote down the number he said, internally rolling your eyes at the number of zeroes Taeyong had you write down. Lee Taeyong, you thought, you stingy motherfucker.

When he had it in his hands, he grinned as if he were a little girl getting a pony for her birthday. “I’ll have someone come and get you when it’s time.”

You nodded, before returning to the bar. Jaehyun eyed you curiously. “Whose slot did you get?”

“One of Johnny’s,” You mumbled, “Can I get some more scotch?”

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, before nodding. As he refilled your glass, he told you, “He’s not happy with you, you know that, right?”

For a moment, you were confused as to how Jaehyun knew—but then you remembered that Johnny had told you they were good friends. Finally, you nodded. “I’m not very happy with myself, either. Which is why I came here to apologize and tell him goodbye.”

“You’re finally making s—wait, what?”

Shrugging, you took back the glass. “I made a mistake letting him back in so many times. It wasn’t good for either of us. I hurt him, really badly. And I don’t want to put him through it anymore. He deserves better.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer, not for a while. He was cleaning some glasses, and went on to serve another man on the other side of the bar. The entire time your eyes remained trained on Seulgi and Irene, silently wondering if it would be a good idea to see what Irene had to offer the next time you came back here.

If you ever came back here. After tonight, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to face Johnny ever again.

Deep down, you felt pathetic. You’d killed countless men, by your own hands and by giving the order. Y/N L/N, ruler of what had once been your father’s empire—the L/N crime syndicate. You were supposed to be fearless, ruthless. Cold.

As far as Johnny was concerned, you were only one of those things. Maybe two, if you considered the semantics between being a cold person and a ruthless person. But fearless?

You had half a mind to bolt out of the place as the two girls finished their routine. They were meant with thunderous applause, bills being thrown at them and the occasional whistle. Deep down you knew you had to stay—you’d already paid Taeyong, closure would be the best thing for the both of you, the sooner you said goodbye to Johnny the sooner he could work through all the hurt you’d put him through and eventually move on.

But that didn’t help the sensation of your heart in your throat as the DJ thanked the girls for their routine and started to talk about the next performer. You couldn’t catch any of what he was saying, too busy downing your scotch in record time to ease your nerves. What you were able to catch were stray words here and there—“seductive” and “powerful”.

As he finally introduced the next dancer, the lights dimmed, turning the lights of the club a bluish purple. And then, he emerged from behind the curtain.

God, he looked just as beautiful as the last time you’d seen him, although the last time he’d been simmering with rage. Here, he was almost serpentine—tempting, calm but ready to strike. His movements were deliberate, walking towards the pole as though he knew that this was what he was made to do. He was dressed only in skintight shorts that hid nothing.

And as the music started, a deeper feminine voice crooning words in Spanish atop a slow, rhythmic beat, you recognized that this likely was what he’d been put on this planet to do. He spun around the pole like he owned it, wrapping one of his legs around it and throwing his head back.

This should be used for scientific endeavor, you mused to yourself, to prove that we came from stardust and the cosmos, because no earthly being could ever be as beautiful, as graceful as him doing this.

“You haven’t learned your lesson, apparently,” Jaehyun said finally, causing you to jump as you snapped out of your trance. Turning to face him, you shook your head in confusion.

“What?”

“He told me what he told you. It’s not about what he deserves. As his friend, I don’t want to see him curled up with a mob boss, and definitely not one like you because honestly? You’re right, he does deserve better. But he’s willing to risk it all to be with you. Are you really going to throw that away? When’s the next time you’ll find someone willing to do that for you?”

“I don’t intend on finding out,” You answered, “Because I’m not letting it happen again.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Jaehyun countered, “You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but you’re still human. You can’t hold people at arm’s length forever. Even if you let Johnny go, it’s bound to happen again. Aren’t you lonely? Don’t you ever want someone?”

You didn’t answer, but rather looked down at your glass. It was empty again. For a second, you considered asking Jaehyun for another refill, but decided against it. You needed to be as sober as possible to talk to Johnny, and you’d already had a considerable amount. Yes, you felt fine enough, but you knew that soon you’d be feeling the effects of it soon.

“Think about it before you talk to him.” Jaehyun leaned back against the bar. “He really cares about you, Y/N. I haven’t seen him care about anyone like this in a really long time.”

He sauntered off, probably to attend to another client, and you were left sitting there, watching Johnny. You were almost grateful he hadn’t noticed you. Until he spotted you you still had an out.

Of course, the second you thought that, Johnny let go of the pole, standing in front of it. For a second, he bent over, before flipping back up, reachin up to grip the pole and flip his hair back. All in your direction. His eyes, to anyone else, gave away nothing. But this was the man you’d spent close to a year memorizing, committing every detail to memory. You knew even halfway across the room, you saw the spark of recognition in his gaze a second after he spotted you. The hesitation before his next move was more obvious, and you forced yourself to not look away, to not let your expression change, lest you give away your emotions.

What seemed like an eternity later, he tore his eyes from yours, continuing his routine. Deep down, you felt grateful that he had Your heart seemingly refused to settle in your chest, your legs suddenly felt heavier. As he kneeled, pole between his legs, and rolled his hips slowly, purposefully, you felt your face warm. You swallowed.

You’d found out what those hips could do, from above and below. Memories of the two of you flowed through your mind. A few moments later, he looked at you again. His eyes were dark, brows turned downward. For a second you thought he was angry.

Then your eyes trailed down, raking over planes of muscle you could practically taste. You swallowed when you realized the tent in his shorts. You weren’t the only one to realize it, the volume of the chatter in the room rising, bills flying at the stage. And of course, because he was the snake and you were Eve, he lifted his hand, using two fingers to draw a line from his neck, to his sternum, to his stomach, before finally gripping his clothed hard-on, all while staring at you.

The moment lasted less than five seconds, but felt like an eternity. For that briefest forever, all the other people in the room, all of your duties, and everything that had happened the last time you’d seen each other ceased to exist. His sole purpose was to dance for you, to lead you into temptation.

For the rest of his routine, you sat there, still as a statue, eyes trained on him. Of course, he couldn’t just pay attention to you—there was a slew of clientele here tonight. He needed to do his best to keep them all entertained, to keep the money coming in. But every now and then, his eyes would meet yours.

And every time, it became a battle of dominance, just like every single time you’d lain with him. Sometimes, all of the sensations, the guilt, the sadness, the shame and burning desire became too much to handle, and you simply had to look away. But other times, you’d hold on just long enough for him to have to move on in his number, to rip his eyes off of yours and eye-fuck the next person whose eyes were on him.

During that time, you watched as he let businessmen run their hands down his chest, like you’d done before. You watched as his hand brushed up a woman’s arm, brushing her neck as she burned bright red, and you recalled the times you’d submitted to him, letting his grip tighten around your windpipe.

It felt wrong, the anger simmering in your chest. You knew the jealousy swimming in your gut was misplaced, and was rich coming from you. He wasn’t yours. You didn’t want him to be, not for his sake.

Oh, but you did, because you were so selfish it was laughable. You wanted to hold him in your clutches and keep everyone away, regardless of their intentions. You knew it wasn’t healthy, even if the two of you were on good terms. But this was how you were. You’d grown up wanting for nothing, getting everything you’d ever wanted at the drop of a hat. Fully well, you could acknowledge: you were spoiled, you were selfish, these weren’t good qualities. And here you were, about to throw a tantrum over the one thing you’d convinced yourself you should never have.

Johnny.

By the time he was done, two songs later, you’d broken out into a sweat, underneath your silk button up and dress pants. You were having trouble breathing evenly. And until Taeyong came to get you, you remained silent, mulling over your words, preparing the speech you’d given him. The entire time, Jaehyun’s words, as well as Johnny’s, echoed in your head. It was almost as if they were fighting back. You only spoke when Jaehyun came around to offer you another drink, and you’d refused.

Now, Taeyong was whisking you away to a door that led backstage. In the back of your head, you felt kind of sleepy. But you knew where you were going, what you needed to do.

You sat in the room for a few minutes, alone. There was a singular round couch, some alcohol bottles on an open display, and a pole in the middle of the room. The only light was a neon green light behind you. You were bouncing your knee anxiously when you heard the door open, and you turned just in time to hear him speak.

“Look who’s finally back.” He didn’t sound particularly happy. Your chest ached, but you couldn’t blame him.

“Johnny,” You breathed as he came closer. He leaned back against the pole, crossing his arms. He was dressed in a black silk robe, revealing only below his knees and some skin on his chest.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He said, looking down at you, “What brings you here now?”

You sighed. “I wanted to come sooner, to talk to you. Not immediately of course, I wanted to give you time. But a few weeks after some… things happened with a partner overseas. I had to fly in to get it settled personally. Too complicated to explain now. I only got back two days ago.”

He nodded, but his face remained unchanged. “So you want to just talk, hm? You don’t want to get your money’s worth, here?”

Swallowing, you hesitated to answer. “I mean—I’d rather just—”

He shook his head. “No, no. I saw the check you wrote Taeyong—now there is a man who drives a hard bargain,” He said, chuckling, “I’ll give you a show. And if there’s time left over, then we can talk.”

Your heart sank in your chest. He wasn’t even giving you a chance. Vaguely, you wondered if you even deserved one. He sauntered over to the bar, picking up a remote and pressing some buttons. Music began playing, and you recognized the same singer from the first song he’d played earlier.

It felt like a crime that you weren’t able to fully appreciate Johnny’s dancing. Alone, for your eyes only, he was even more tempting. Throwing his head back, rarely breaking eye contact, running his hands up and down his body, contorting his statuesque frame as it spun along the pole so that his legs were spread, showing off the definition of his thighs.

You watched with burning eyes—but you couldn’t be sure if that was from your lack of blinking or a faint desire to cry. Your throat was dry, and in the pit of your stomach, an unbridled lust settled heavily. The cocktail of emotions was too overwhelming for you to fully immerse yourself, and you were all too aware of the ticking clock. You’d paid for a twenty minute slot, because you weren’t sure if there’d be enough time to talk about this fully.

And yet, here you were, seven minutes in, and you were getting antsy, restless in your seat. It wasn’t until Johnny got off the pole, and kneeled on the other side of the couch, that you started to wonder what was going on here.

“Johnny,” You murmured hoarsely, “Can I please just—”

“C’mon, baby,” He said, resting on his hands. He began to crawl toward you—a sick mirror of all of the times you’d gotten him to submit, “It’s been a while since we had fun together, you’n me. Don’t you wanna do this again? Don’t you miss it—miss me?”

“I—Of course I do. But I need to just get some things off my chest—”

“Off your chest?” He was in front of you now, and you leaned away. Still, he crawled forward, leaving you resting on your elbows. He smirked, face inches away from yours. You wanted him so badly, core burning, your mind begging you to just lean forward. Suddenly, what you wanted to talk about seemed far away. You’d missed him so much, spent so many nights trying to replicate how he’d made you feel.

And now here he was, offering you that sensation again.

He tugged lightly on your collar.

“I can think of a few things I wanna get off your chest.”

His lips felt bruising, almost violent on yours. He had you pinned down on the couch almost immediately, unbuttoning your shirt. Soon enough, it was thrown to the side, and your bra followed soon. His mouth trailed itself down to your neck, and then your chest, teasing just above one of your nipples.

“Johnny—”

“Shh, shh,” He hushed against your skin, “Let me just do this, hmm?”

His lips wrapped around your nipple, tugging gently on it with his teeth. You gasped sharply, arching your back up against him. Your hands carded through his hair, bringing your legs around his hips. Your hips slotted against his, and when you lifted your hips, he sighed against your chest. His cock, still covered by the shorts, was already back to the hardness you’d seen on the stage. The friction, combined with his mouth suckling on your chest, made you throw your head back, panting quietly.

Your hands reached for the robe’s belt, untying it haphazardly and sliding the fabric off to reveal his shoulders and chest. “Johnny, I—”

He pressed his lips to yours again, and you realized with a start: he was trying to keep you from talking.

“Don’t say anything, baby,” He whispered into your ear, voice sickly sweet, “After all, you just want me to fuck you and then leave without anything else, yeah? That’s all this is, right?”

Your eyes met his, and you realized just how cruel he was being, trying to give you a taste of your own medicine. Maybe this was how he felt, but despite all the mistakes you’d made, you knew that it had never been like this. This was a bastardization, a mockery of everything the two of you had been through. Despite all of this, the pain in your chest and the clenching of your jaw, you didn’t let up in the movement of your hips.

“That’s not what this has been and you know it,” You snapped, grabbing his face, “Don’t be a dick about it, Johnny. If you want me to fuck off, just tell me and I will.”

His eyes seemed to burn into your soul. “What if I don’t want you to fuck off? What if I just want you to fuck me, huh?”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” You said, “I have half a mind to punch you in the face right now.”

“And yet, you’re still grinding on my cock like a whore,” He pointed out, pressing a kiss to your jawline.

“Dammit, Johnny, I’m trying to—mmh!”

When he pressed his lips against yours again, he slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, and you found it hard to resist the temptation of it all. But your body felt like it was burning, with lust, with shame, with anger, with guilt, with sadness.

You don’t know where it came from. The onslaught of emotions you’d been trying to push down, every single crack you’d tried to seal up. It all came crashing down in an avalanche that had you squirming, hands pushing weakly at Johnny’s chest to get him off of you. At first, he seemed confused, but then he took in the sudden wetness of your eyes, the heaving of your chest he’d previously thought were due to his ministrations, and as if all of that weren’t bad enough—

“Red,” You wheezed, “Red, red, red, red, red—”

The word you’d both agreed on if things ever got to be too much, the one word that would have gotten either of you to stop dead in your tracks, regardless of how things were emotionally between the both of you.

All of the color drained from Johnny’s cheeks, realizing just how far he’d taken it, and immediately, he let go of you. He tried to get off the couch, and his chest sank as you reached for him, immediately burying your face in his chest as you wept.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, “I’m sorry I was so horrible t’you, I didn’t know what to do—”

Guilt washed over him as he made sense of your rambling. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this now—”

“I do love you, Johnny, I-I do, so much,” You said between sobs, unable to stop the word vomit as you clung to him, “I want you to stay, but I can’t stand the idea of seeing you get h-hurt, I have s-so many nightmares about it at night, Johnny, please, I love you, I love you, so much, s-so much, want you to stay with me forever—”

“Y/N.” He grabbed your face gently with both hands, frowning. The action caused your words to die in your throat, but it didn’t stop the crying. With the pads of his thumbs, he wiped your tears away, before pressing kisses to your cheeks. “It’s okay,” He murmured between kisses, “Deep breaths, baby. I’ll still be here when you’re ready, ‘kay?”

It took you a good minute or so, but when your weeping finally subsided, even the occasional involuntary sobs, Johnny pressed a final kiss to your forehead. He rolled the two of you over, holding you tight to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” He finally muttered, “I was angry and bitter about how we left things off. I shouldn’t have acted on those emotions—”

“No, I’m sorry, too.” You tightened your arms around him. Your voice was barely above a whisper. “I was scared because I’ve never… I’ve never really let anyone in like this. That, plus the whole thing that had been going on overseas—”

“I thought that happened after what happened that night,” He said, looking at you. You shook your head.

“It’d been going on since about six months ago. Things just got so bad that I had to fly in myself and… well.”

You didn’t finish, and Johnny figured out the rest for himself. “You got rid of them?”

You nodded, tucking your head into his chest. “That threat’s over. But what about the next one, and the one after that?”

“After that, we ride through the storm together,” He murmured, “And my queen’s empire will prevail, every—single—time.”

You looked back up at him, your eyes still teary. He offered a soft, wistful smile. One full of yearning and admiration.

“Okay,” You whispered finally, nodding. “We ride through it together.”

This time, when his lips met yours, it wasn’t like anything before. This was gentle, loving. And when you pulled away, your eyes glittered not just with leftover tears, but with another realization. “You’re still hard.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. I am.”

“What if I—”

“I’m not going to fuck you after what just happened.” He shook his head, “What if that triggers something else?”

“I never said anything about you fucking me, Johnny,” You said, rolling the two of you over so you were now on top of him. “Not exactly.”

He raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. “Y/N…”

“If I weren’t 100% sure I wasn’t going to break down again I wouldn’t be doing this. Just trust me on this, okay?”

Johnny said nothing, but he still didn’t seem very convinced. So you let him watch you peel your pants and underwear off, before removing those heavensent shorts he’d been made to wear tonight.

You moved to straddle him again, your core hovering over his length. Leaning over to cage him between you and the couch, you raised an eyebrow. “How much time do we have left?”

“I’d say about six or seven minutes,” He said, “Whatever you’re gonna do, be quick about it.”

“I know.”

You lowered your hips onto his, the ridges of his cock meeting your clit. The both of you hissed at the same time. Johnny’s eyes screwed shut, your mouth tipped open as you began moving, working your pussy against his dick.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” He groaned, reaching for your hips.

“Yeah?” You sighed, your stomach twisting in delight at his words. He nodded, before sitting up to meet you face to face.

There wasn’t as much talking as you were used to, not tonight. No, this was the both of you desperately trying to make up for lost time and consolidate what was to come, now that you were both finally on the same page. This was you wrapping your arms around his shoulders, clinging to and scratching along the muscular ridges of his back. It was him sucking bruises into your collarbones and neck, trying to aid the movements of your hips with his hands.

You could feel every ridge and vein of him pressed up against you, so good you could practically see stars. It made you cling to him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, eyes screwed shut. His face buried itself into your hair. You could feel his heavy breathing hitting your scalp.

“Johnny,” You whimpered, “I’m—”

“Me too,” He grunted against you, “You feel so—fuck, you feel so good.”

“Kiss me,” You demanded, “Kiss me, please, I love you.”

He did so without hesitation or teasing. This one, too, was different, now imbued with passion and desperation. His tongue clashed with yours, you breathing as heavily as him.

When you broke apart, one hand came up to grip your face. “My queen,” He murmured, “My goddess.”

That did it for you. Your head fell back, blunt nails digging into his back, and suddenly the only word you knew was Johnny’s name. His lips met yours one final time to swallow your moans—you didn’t want to give away what was going on to the security guards, even though they probably already knew. You didn’t feel when Johnny came. Yes, you heard him inhale sharply, breaking away to bite your shoulder so hard you winced at the combination of pleasure-pain. But only when you came down from your ecstasy did you feel the sudden stickiness between your thighs.

When you reached for the nape of his neck you realized he was trembling. He met your eyes, before pressing his nose to yours. One of your hands cradled his face, much like he was doing to yours.

“Thank you,” He whispered, “I’m all yours. You own me, heart and soul.”

“And you own me,” You answered. “It’s not going to be easy for me, I’m letting you know now. But I’m so grateful you’re still here to let me try.”

He smiled, pressing his cheek into your palm. “I—”

A sudden pounding on the door interrupted his words. “Johnny!” Taeyong called, “It’s almost time for your next client!”

“Shit, I’m still dirty,” You muttered, cheeks heating up. Nervously, you looked around only to find nothing to clean the insides of your thighs with. “Fuck, what am I—”

“I have an idea,” Johnny said, eyes alight with mischief, before pinning you down.

“Johnny,” You hissed, “What the hell are you d—”

“Shh,” He insisted, spreading your legs with his hands, “Or do you want Taeyong to find out what’s really going on in here?”

Before you could stop him, his tongue was already licking up the folds of your pussy, cleaning his cum off of you. Immediately, your hand went to cover your mouth, squeezing your eyes tight as you held back a moan. You were still so sensitive from what had just happened seconds ago, and the obscenity of it all, of Johnny cleaning his own cum from your cunt while his boss was demanding to know what’s going on in there had your eyes rolling up in your head.

You looked down at him, him watching you like a predator watching its prey. Your free hand tangled itself in his hair, and despite the desire to push him away, the second his tongue entered your pussy, fucking it shallowly, your hips began rutting against his face. He groaned quietly, the sight of you losing yourself and using him for more pleasure driving him wild.

The speed at which your second orgasm came hurtling towards you was almost embarrassing, but could you really be blamed when Johnny had finished licking the cum from your folds but was sucking on your clit like it was a jawbreaker. Your vision just about turned white, and you supposed a few moans had to have passed through, because in the background, you heard Taeyong’s incessant knocking stop.

When you finally came down, Johnny was already pulling on his shorts. “I still have my key to your place,” He murmured, “You free tomorrow?”

“I can have it cleared,” You mumbled sluggishly, barely responding when he handed you your clothes.

“Great,” He said with a grin, and you looked at him quizzically as you began pulling on your underwear. You had a feeling where this was going, because… well. It was Johnny.

“This? This was only my first course. I fully intend on getting my second and third courses in as soon as I get the chance.”

taglist: @doderyscoffee @iwishihadabettername

#nct smut #nct angst #johnny x reader #johnny suh x reader #johnny seo x reader #nct 127 smut #nct scenarios #nct au #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 angst #johnny smut #johnny angst

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w0lp3rtinger · 2 years

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Blood Blisters and a Bruised Sky

AAAAH THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOLDER FOR M O N T H S FUCK I LOVE ME SOME COWBOY ROMANCE! Inspired by @banditobale and their beautiful work here! I wanted to try something different and I pinned myself into a corner because between the Badlands being just... the badlands in the 1850s and also bouncing between both men's perspectives WITHOUT going into their heads was D I F F I C U L T but HERE WE ARE! ENJOY! --- (DeviantArt Link)

---

The sky above bore the bruises of heaven, each cloud a broken blood vessel against its stary skin. A dying sun had crawled back to its cave far beyond the west mountains, and all that was left of the day was a bleeding trail of gold that glittered like a prospector’s vision of paradise, shimmering just out of reach of the badland’s rocky grasp.

Red watched the fire as Blue shuffled about in the tent. Crackling wood filled the silence between as the sausages sizzled on their pokers, sparks dancing on an evening breeze that swept down the mountain. Red blinked slowly, lazily, watching the embers lift into the air, taken in an updraft of smoke to join the stars above.

He yawned, stretching.

“How’s dinner coming?” Blue asked as he stumbled his way back to the fire, a flask in one hand, a guitar in the other.

“The more you ask, the longer it will take.”

The man grumbled as he took up a rock for a perch. “Somethin’ ‘bout the way you say that makes me think you’ll make it take longer out of spite if you feel like it.”

Blue couldn’t help but smile as he watched the mischief light up in Red’s eyes. The other man chuckled quietly, head bent low to hide a smirk, and Blue couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

That comfortable silence fell between them again, settling onto the soul. For the first time in a long time, Red allowed the tension to unwind from his shoulders as he watched his companion shuffle about in his spot as he fought the lid of the flask. Finally, Blue gave in with a sigh, handing it over. Red shook his head.

“Why you always screw it on so tight?” Blue asked, watching with a playful scowl as Red easily removed the lid. He flinched with a laugh as the cap was thrown at him.

“Maybe because I warned you I would if you kept buying cheap liquor. Maybe because I like it when you ask me to take it off. Depends on my mood.”

Blue laughed again, louder this time, and Red smiled as he drank deeply.

“You gonna be cheeky and do that too when we get out to California?”

Red lowered his chin, still looking at Blue as a grin split his face, “You won’t be able to open a single jar without me.”

“Careful now,” he said, “That’s soundin’ awful ‘Man of The House,’ of you. Don’t you go trying to domesticate me or nothin’.”

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Doesn’t mean it still isn’t fun watching you struggle.”

Blue shook his head, taking the flask back from him as he did so. “Well, you won’t have a reason to once we get out there anyway. It’ll be eh…”

“Aguardiente.”

Blue raised the flask in a toast, “That, yeah, what with your acres and acres of grapes you keep yammering on about that you want so bad.” He drank, sighing as he did so.

Red watched, quiet for a moment as he chewed the inside of his cheek. Then, with a shrug, he said, “Suppose I’ll start screw ‘em extra just because I feel like it then.”

Blue’s eyes went wide as he gagged, coughing and sputtering until laughter rattled his chest. Red watched lips pursed against his own laughter as he shook his head. Still, there was something in the way Blue’s shoulders shook and his eyes glittered, the way the sound of him echoed until Red could have almost believed there were dozens of him hidden in the stone, the joy too large and alive for just one man. Struggle as he might, he could keep the smile from his face, his own wheezing laugh scattering the embers before him.

Blue passed the flask back before slumping against the rock, still giggling, looking at Red through heavy-lidded eyes before letting his head loll forward as he shuffled his grip on his guitar, “And I suppose I’ll have to learn to live with that.”

Quiet fell again at the soft strumming of the guitar. Blue’s peaceful brow slowly twisted into a knot as he tuned it, plucking as he twisted the pegs gently. Turning back to the fire, Red fiddled with the sausages and listened as the warbling, out-of-tune strings hummed in the quiet and dark. In the distance, under the growing moon, a howl went up, then another, then another. The call echoed through the emptiness and bounced off the rocks like a coin tossed down a well, going on and on into the nothingness. Red breathed it in, slow and steady; the smell of smoke and stone and Blue’s cologne wafting on the faintest breeze.

Red felt Blue’s eyes on him as he took a long drink from the flask. He licked his lips, then passed it along.

The two men sat in silence like that, watching the way the fire lit up each other’s eyes, listening to the wild baying, the sound of the loneliest type of freedom, as the moon rose higher still.

Blue broke the stare first, blinking slowly, as he bowed his head. Red watched the man study him through his lashes before he smiled slow and lazy. Shifting his position to get more comfortable, he started to strum gently, something soft, something slow. Red allowed himself to rest his head in his hands as he listened, watching the firelight cast strange flickering patterns across his partner’s face. The humming started first, off-kilter and off-key, but as Blue got louder the humming turned to word, the words to singing, and he lifted his head to look at Red and grin.

Red couldn’t help but smile in return as he pulled a harmonica from his pocket, letting himself finally, fully, lean into the music.

Red could hear the laughter in Blue’s voice as he lifted it to heaven, singing loudly into the lonely wild, goading it in its inability to keep the men apart ever again.

#sonadow #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sega #cowboys #GAY COWBOYS #I love - listen- I love period dramas #I love cowboys #I love unchartered frontiers of all sorts be it a journey to the west or space or feelings or whatever #and I'm SURE there'll be shit I hate about this work STILL but it is DONE and I am TIRED OF LOOKING AT IT I DID MY BEST #HOPE YOU LIKE IT!#library

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ale-pm · 3 years

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Le festival Mole Poblano

Le festival Mole Poblano a lieu à Pahuatlan en octobre. Ce festival a un gastronomie très varier, vous pouvez déguster les différents types de mole accompagnés d’un morceau de poulet ou de dinde en plus du pain,, des bonbons traditionnels, des boissons et de l’aguardiente. . C'est une attraction touristique importante, aussi du fait est désignée comme patrimoine culturel.

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vademecumherbal · 4 years

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Albahaca Ocimum basilicum L.

Farmacodinamia: la actividad biológica de esta planta se atribuye especialmente a su aceite esencial que le confiere propiedades digestivas, carminativas, espasmolíticas, además de antisépticas (contra bacterias y parásitos), insecticidas y sedantes. En medicina popular se emplean las hojas frescas o secas (en infusión) para tratar malestares del aparato digestivo (inapetencia, dispepsia, estreñimiento, cólicos, dolor de estómago, vómitos, meteorismo); como emenagogo en menstruaciones difíciles; en forma externa para lavar heridas; macerada en alcohol se usa en friegas para calmar dolores reumáticos y articulares. También se puede utilizar el jugo fresco de las hojas de albahaca para uso interno y para aplicar directamente sobre la piel en casos de acné.

PROPIEDADES: Usos tradicionales: a) uso interno: inapetencia, dispepsia, cólicos, dolor de estómago, meteorismo, estreñimiento; dolores menstruales. La infusión se prepara con 1 cucharada del vegetal para 1 litro de agua recién hervida: beber 1 taza 3 veces en el día. Como laxante, usar en ayunas y antes del almuerzo;

uso externo: lavado de heridas, acné, reumatismo. La misma infusión sirve para lavar heridas; el jugo fresco de hojas para el acné; para reumatismo hacer friegas: dejar macerar hojas frescas en alcohol o aguardiente por 10-15 días, poner al sol un rato cada día, luego filtrar y usar en frotaciones locales 2 ó 3 veces en el día.

Efectos: digestivo, carminativo, antiespasmódico, antimicrobiano, emenagogo, laxante.

Precauciones: no exceder las dosis recomendadas. Estos productos tienen el carácter de auxiliares sintomáticos y no reemplazan lo indicado por el médico en el tratamiento de una enfermedad. Evite su preparación en utensilios de aluminio.

Otros antecedentes: sus efectos carminativo y laxante tiene alguna evidencia científica.

Fuente: Libro MHT 2010

#albahaca #Herbología #fitoterapia #plantas chile #hierbas #vademecumherbal

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onslenderaccident · 4 years

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Twelve-Year Universal Horoscope

by Charles Bernstein

Key: A Aries, T Taurus, G Gemini, C Cancer, L Leo, V Virgo, Li Libra, S Scorpio, Sa Sagittarius, Ca Capricorn, Aq Aquarius, P Pisces. Each section covers one year, then rotates.

A2019, T2020, G2021, C2022, L2023, V2024, Li2025, S2026, Sa2027, Ca2028, Aq2029, P2030

Anticipated reversals occur in unanticipated locations: avoid planar surfaces. As Saturn and Pluto come into alignment, prepare for irrepressible nostalgia. Casual attachments provide a medley of diversions from long-term fantasies. Mix of sulfur and magnesium is at its height on the twelfth and twenty-ninth: stay clear of disarticulating headwinds while remaining open to miscalibrated address. Seek pine- and coconut-flavored dishes. Preferred alcohol: Anisette (neat).

T19, G20, C21, L22, V23, Li24, S25, Sa26, Ca27, Aq28, P29, A30 Reach out to long-estranged family members to say life is better without you. Don’t back away from regrets. Outer Andromeda is fragmenting into deep time shallows: Time to stop the ambivalence and say no. Midmonth is best time for buying short but avoid other financial transactions. Look over your back before making sudden move. Avoid disco. Linger in crinoline. Seek wool products and avoid rayon. Preferred alcohol: Pisco (sour).

G19, C20, L21, V22, Li23, S24, Sa25, Ca26, Aq27, P28, A29, T30 Pegasus wars with Orion, but zones of calm when Pyxis is rising. Smells intensify in arboreal regions. Old lovers come to mind, posing immediate threat. Keep eyes on interstitial aggravations. Turmeric and clove in seventh and thirteenth week will ward off transvirtual infection. Travel southward when possible but not before 6 a.m. local time. Persons from Uruguay will offer gift: not necessary to return favor but wait one week before opening. Seek volcanic dust. Preferred alcohol: Koskenkorva (with bitters).

C19, L20, V21, Li22, S23, Sa24, Ca25, Aq26, P27, A28, T29, G30 Turbulence in the nebula. Dark Matter in retrovariance. Take only third offers. Dress in chartreuse on even-numbered days and in mute orchid on odd days. Friendships cement in near term on days with “3” (3, 13, 30, 31) but stay at sea level on days with “5” (5, 15). Your horse will “place” on “0” days (10, 20, 30). Moods conform with waning and waxing moon, great calm at new moon. Avoid sexual contact at full moon. Seek bougainvillea. Preferred alcohol: Slivovitz (with orange peel).

L19, V20, Li21, S22, Sa23, Ca24, Aq25, P26, A27, T28, G29, C30 Turn no one away. Gold is buried just beyond shoreline. Emotional tides are uneven but stay with them or undercurrent will pull you down. Magnetic fields from the melting polar caps run roughshod over love life. Avoid newspapers in second weeks; at other times start with recipes, when available. Jupiter crosses Saturn in perfect Equinity Semblance: keep measured distance from newcomers. Saturn is lodestar whose course tracks in avoirdupois: pound for feckless, dram for egress, stone for gravitation. Seek cantilevers. Preferred alcohol: Aguardiente (over ice).

V19, Li20, S21, Sa22, Ca23, Aq24, P25, A26, T27, G28, C29, L30 “The seraph / Is satyr in Saturn, according to his thoughts” (Wallace Stevens). Close call becomes near miss. Bounty holds only when seared. Jade is talisman of recusal and redaction. Aspiration punctuates lunar flares. Retreat in hollow days, parry on pivots. “The genius of misfortune / Is not a sentimentalist”: defy writ to rend. The tally is incendiary, but fortune comes in buckets. Disable charms to charm. The following day rips away the scuff of last. Cleave to presenting, adjacent insistence deems purpose. Seek such sentiment (not sentimental). Preferred alcohol: Drambuie (splits).

Li19, S20, Sa21, Ca22, Aq23, P24, A25, T26, G27, C28, L29, V30 Cold mouth, hot lips. Perpetuate fevered state, outlives livid transiencies. Dig hard but cede ground. Solar flares quash unspoken dreams but open path for development. Meteor showers in the south inflate currency. Lucky numbers: 8, 13, 331. Orient Eastward for repose, Westward for reflection. Scent: basil. Keep cool, under 60 degrees Fahrenheit, on first and last days of every month except first and last months. Eat soup weekly, alternating hot and cold. Seek predisposition. Preferred alcohol: moonshine (with rum).

S19, Sa20, Ca21, Aq22, P23, A24, T25, G26, C27, L28, V29, Li30 Watch for mid-Pacific squalls. Stay totally clear on such days. Even the smallest thought can betray you. Confide only in friends from past five years and only about matters that occurred over that time. Signs of incompatibility include swift and frequent eyelid clatter, extravagant hand motion, and midday drowsiness. Signs of compatibility include sudden rain, heightened gait, and tender elbow. High risk of falling into Dark Matter. Vigilance pays off on third, twelfth, and nineteenth day. Seek vermilion. Preferred alcohol: Trappist brandy (spritz).

Sa19, Ca20, Aq21, P22, A23, T24, G25, C26, L27, V28, Li29, S30 “What is most full seems empty. Yet its use will never fail. What is most straight seems bent. The greatest skill seems like clumsiness. The greatest eloquence like stuttering.” (Tao Te Ching) Climb to the tallest point within your reach then lie flat at the lowest point, saying these words. Saturn’s rings surround your despair: have courage! Sing a song of childhood when you feel farthest from it. Every crack of thunder speaks with the voice of your dearest lost loves. Seek oak. Preferred alcohol: rice wine (chilled).

Ca19, Aq20, P21, A22, T23, G24, C25, L26, V27, Li28, S29, Sa30 Settled matters unravel: time to take the advantage. Tropical depressions complicate unfamiliar liaisons providing opportunities for needed adventure. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket. Uranus rising: auspicious for small-bore improvements but not major renovation. Act as if “there is no use in a center” (Stein): galvanize desire against regret and regret against compulsory well-being. Bird song provides big tip on holiday parties. Seek negative velocity. Preferred alcohol: mescal (with lemon).

Aq19, P20, A21, T22, G23, C24, L25, V26, Li27, S28, Sa29, Ca30 Sharp descent of Calypso Cluster drags Marmolean Veil into direct imbrication. Lucky numbers: −6, −18, −871. Lucky colors: maroon, dead-island blue, mustard gray. Stay pressurized: do not leave capsule. Pseudoglossia is music from outer spheres but do not interpret or translate. Live in, not for, the moment. Seal the deal (resistance is a form of divination). Seek adjacency. Preferred alcohol: cachaça (with lime and sugar).

P19, A20, T21, G22, C23, L24, V25, Li26, S27, Sa28, Ca29, Aq30 Let envy propel you to eternity. Otherwise, duck and cover. Orion lays bare prognosis: structure treatment in response. Anxiety cools to fermenting antagonism: perpetuate memorialization. Sylvan linings pocket outsize payouts. Scatter in flutter, halt then heave hard. Use thyme and ginger on sixth and eighth days of month, otherwise paprika (except in first and last days). Time will stand still at last moment. Follow the radiant sound of whoosh and whap. Declare insolvency as metaphysical foundation: blur affinities and self-identifications. Midmonths probe deep into shadows: reject false bottoms. Seek inardency. Preferred alcohol: absinthe (with Bénédictine).

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onlyllar · 2 years

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botella ron limón. ocumare. venezuela. grado al - Comprar Coleccionismo de Vinos, Licores y Aguardientes en todocoleccion - 138712218

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barinacraft · 3 years

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Ojen Cocktail - Mardi Gras Favorite Prevents Bad Luck

Picasso Puts The 'O' In Ojen

Aguardiente de Ojén or just Ojen (pronounced “oh-hen”) is an anise based liqueur similar to absinthe, but minus the wormwood. A fact that's reflected in the name which is actually shortened from the Spanish word ajenjo (ah-hen'ho) meaning artemisia absinthium, or grand wormwood, in the melodic language of Spain. Aguardiente, in Spanish, or Aguardente, in Portuguese is a combination of the Iberian languages' word for "water" (agua in Spanish + aiqua, água and auga in Catalan, Portuguese and Galician respectively) plus "burning / fiery" (ardiente in Spanish, ardent in Catalan and ardente in both Portuguese & Galician). Like absinthe, Ojén creates a louche when mixed with water or frapped which turns the mixture milky looking. Other anise flavored liqueurs / liquors include Arak, Greenopal, Herbsaint, Ouzo, Pastis, Pernod, Sambuca, Raki and more.

Pablo Picasso, the most famous native of Málaga, Spain, was definitely a fan as he himself dually noted [sic] in two of his paintings. Ojen's original coffin shaped bottle was captured on the artist's canvas inside an oval in his 1912 Spanish Still Life shown above.

He followed that cubist style masterpiece up a few years later with a Bottle of Anis del Mono resting on a wooden bartop alongside a wineglass and playing cards. See below.

History Of Ojen Liqueur

First Produced

1830 or so - the Pedro Morales family distillery began producing Ojen in its namesake city east of the sherry triangle in Andalusia the southernmost region of Peninsular Spain.*

1870 - Anis del Mono anisette starts production in a factory in Badalona, Spain. This sweet aniseed liqueur in particular is often mentioned as an Ojen substitute, though its not quite the same.†

1874 - Pedro Morales sets up a second location in Malaga, Spain to increase capacity.‡

1883 - Paul Gelpi and his brother Oscar own a liquor distribution company located at 43 Decatur Street in New Orleans and advertise 50 cases of OJEN of Majorca for sale which they claim is superior to ABSINTHE as an appetizer and tonic.1

Original Ojen Cocktail Created

1886 - Paul Gelpi was inaugurated as a member of the elite gentleman's club The Boston in February and it was there that the Ojen Cocktail was first mixed by adding a couple of dashes of Peychaud's bitters and soda water over cracked ice. Gelpi's role in the recipe is unclear as L. E. Jung suggests he or his company had invented the Ojen Cocktail.2,3

1910s - other Spanish brands of Ojen like Joaquin Bueno of Malaga and Manuel Fernández of Puerto de Santa Maria / Jerez (formerly called Xerés) along with New Orleans, Louisiana based manufacturer L.E. Jung & Wulff Company were gaining prominence.

1920 - the Morales distillery had to close due to a phylloxera plague that killed the vineyards around Malaga and apparently the last male heir took the secret family recipe to their grave.

1946 - Brennan's on Royal Street, a Creole restaurant in the French Quarter which started as the Vieux Carré located on Bourbon Street, opens and later features the Ojen Frappé on their brunch menu along with originals like Bananas Foster and Eggs Hussarde.

1961 - Juan Espada Fernández, who claims to be in possession of the original Ojen recipe via his father who is said to have been an employee of the Pedro Morales distillery, launches production of Aguardiente de Ojén after buying the still in 1958.

1974 - internal company conflicts cause the Juan Espada distillery in Ojén, Spain to permanently cease operation.

1990 - in the late 1980s, with sagging sales, the Fernandez family in Jerez de la Frontera was the last remaining ojen producer and decided to stop production but made one last batch of 500 cases totaling 6000 bottles for export to Martin Wine Cellar in New Orleans, Louisiana.4

Hoard Your Bottle Of Ojén - You Can't Buy Anymore

2009 - the last bottle of the Manuel Fernandez White Label Ojen was officially sold by Martin Wine Cellar.5

Fat Chance you'll be drinking Ojen on Fat Tuesday much longer.

Salvation

2013 - following an analysis of a specimen of the original brandy which showed 16 distinct herbs from the Sierra de las Nieves were used, Dominique Mertens Impex S.L. produces the first 3,000 bottles of an aniseed flavored spirit made from prickly pears on Ojén soil using traditional methods called ‘Aguardiente de Ojén La Giralda.’ 6

2015 - after sending samples of classic Ojen to the lab to reverse engineer and spending over two years of R&D time and talent developing its own distillate recipe labeled as Legendre Ojen after J. Marion Legendre, the inventor of Herbsaint, Sazerac Company was able put some of their new bottles of Ojén on the shelf between Christmas and New Year’s Eve well ahead of its goal for the February 9, 2016 Mardi Gras.7

Looks like the phrase “Una copita de Ojén” (a little glass of Ojén) followed by seven musical taps on the bar that was a ritual toast heard all over Spain for more than a hundred years can be resurrected once again now that this drink that starts with 'O' is back on the table.

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youtube

Behind The Bar - How To Make Ojen's Namesake Drink Recipes At Home

Ojen Cocktail (American / New Orleans Style):

2 oz Ojen

2 - 3 dashes Peychaud's bitters

Add the Ojen to a mixing glass filled with fine ice and dash on the bitters. Stir thoroughly with a bar spoon and strain into a long stem glass.8-14

The bitters give this Ojen a delicate rose-colored tinge. Therefore it masquerades under the name of “Pink Shimmy,” or pinque chemise, if you prefer the language of the fifty million who can’t be wrong.15

~ Stanley Clisby Arthur

Perfect for parading around during Mardi Gras carnival celebrations!

Note: many also add seltzer water to the formula above similar to the next recipe below.16-21 Sort of makes them the same then. Right down to the bitter end.

Ojen or Spanish Absinthe Cocktail:

1 jigger Ojen

2 - 3 drops Angostura bitters

seltzer water

Combine Ojen with ice in a large glass. Keep pouring seltzer into glass while stirring constantly with a spoon until the outside of the glass is frosted, frozen and frapped. Then add a few dashes of Angostura bitters and strain into a cocktail glass.22-26

Like above, many recipes eliminate the soda water, but the Angostura & Ojen only formula seems to originate and/or be preferred in Cuba.27-30

Ojen Special

1 ½ oz Ojen

2 - 3 dashes Peychaud's bitters

1 tsp sugar

2 - 3 oz seltzer

Stir all the ingredients together in a mixing glass filled with ice, strain and serve.31,32

Adding sugar to the recipe didn't start appearing in bartending books until the early to mid 1940s, but this may have been what the proprietor at the Lilac Time bar served to Mistah Gordon in To Have and Have Not.33 Or, at least, that's what another writer's interpretation of 1937 Ernest Hemingway was.34 Here's the passage:

"'Allo, 'allo, Mist' Gordon. What you have?" "I don't know," said Richard Gordon. "You don't look good. Whatsa matter? You don't feel good?" "No." "I fix you something just fine. Fix you up hokay. You ever try a Spanish absinthe, ojen?" "Go ahead," said Gordon. "You drink him you feel good. Want to fight anybody in a house," said the proprietor. "Make Mistah Gordon a ojen special." Standing at the bar, Richard Gordon drank three ojen specials but he felt no better; the opaque, sweetish, cold, licorice-tasting drink did not make him feel any different "Give me something else," he said to the bartender. "Whatsa matter? You no like a ojen special?" the proprietor asked. "You no feel good?" "No." "You got be careful what you drink after him."

Words to live by!

More Anisette Cocktails

Albion - dry gin, French vermouth, Cointreau, lemon juice and Ojen bitters.

Anis Del Mono Cocktail No. I - dry gin, Anis del Mono, bar syrup and thick cream with grated nutmeg.

Anis Del Mono Cocktail No. II - Anis del Mono, Cognac, Fernet Branca, Angostura bitters and lime or lemon juice.

Battle of New Orleans - bourbon, orange bitters, anisette, Peychaud's bitters, simple syrup and absinthe.

Beaux Arts Cocktail - gin, dry vermouth, sweet vermouth, orange juice, pineapple juice and anisette.

Black Gold Shot #2 - Goldschlager and Opal Nera or Romana Black sambuca.

Borden Chase - a Rob Roy with anise liqueur Pernod and orange bitters or you can use another pastis, like Ricard, Herbsaint, Absente, or Pastis Henri Baudoin.

Broken Spur Cocktail / Broker's Flip - white port, dry gin, sweet vermouth, egg yolk and anisette.

Café de Paris Cocktail / Hankow Special - egg white, anisette, fresh cream and dry gin.

Cattlin Cocktail - 1/4 each dry gin, Picard vermouth, Cora vermouth and ojen with one egg white.

Colony Club - gin, anisette and orange bitters.

Dream Cocktail - Cognac or brandy, orange liqueur and anisette.

Dubonnet Special - Dubonnet, dry gin, absinthe and anisette.

Dulcet - vodka, apricot flavored brandy, anisette, cream, lemon juice.

Green Opal Cocktail - Greenopal, dry gin and Ojen with both orange and Peychaud bitters.

Herbsaint Frappé - Herbsaint, simple syrup and carbonated water frapped in cracked ice.

Jellyfish Cocktail - blue curacao, Irish cream and white sambuca anise liqueurs with grenadine.

Jitters Cocktail - equal parts Ojen, gin and French vermouth. Note: this recipe first appeared on the back of Fernandez White Label Ojen bottles and was then published on page 39 of Famous New Orleans Drinks and How To Mix ’Em in 1937.

Marguerite Cocktail #3 - gin, French vermouth, orange bitters and anisette.

Narragansett - rye whiskey, Italian vermouth and anisette.

Pick-Up - 1/3 jigger each of Ojen, dubonnet and rum with one egg white and a dash of grenadine will pick up your spirits.

Slippery Nipple - Sambuca (Italian anise-flavoured liqueur) and Irish cream liqueur.

Snowball - creme de violette, anisette, white creme de menthe, sweet cream and dry gin.

Suisse Cocktail - pastis, anisette and egg white.

Turf Cocktail - gin, dry vermouth, anisette and bitters.

Yellow Daisy - dry gin, French vermouth, Grand Marnier and anisette.

Yellow Parrot - apricot brandy, yellow chartreuse and anisette.

Zazarac - rum, anisette, gomme syrup, whisky and angostura bitters.

Zenith Cocktail #2 - anisette, Angostura bitters, dry gin and whiskey.

References

* - Aguardiente de Ojén. (2021, January 27).

† - New Orleans Nostalgia, "Banana Republics and Ojen Cocktails Update.", Ned Hémard, 2011.

‡ - "Ojén, the rebirth of an anise." WHISKYMag.fr 20 September, 2018.

1 - "50 Cases OJEN of Majorca for sale." The Times-Picayune from New Orleans, Louisiana. 27 May, 1883.

2 - Landry, Stuart O. History of the Boston Club (New Orleans: Pelican Publishing Company, 1938), 229. Print.

3 - The Mixologist - How To Mix The Mixings (New Orleans: L.E. Jung & Wulff Co. Inc., 1933). Print. via Picken, Conor and Dischinger, Matthew Southern Comforts: Drinking and the U.S. South (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2020). Print.

4 - La Fille. "Classic New Orleans: A Brief History of Ojen." La Fille De La Ville 1 April, 2009.

5 - Price, Todd A. "Last bottle of locally popular Ojen liqueur sold." The Times-Picayune from New Orleans, Louisiana 16 July, 2009.

6 - Pérez, Mónica. "Belgian business revives the production of a traditional spirit from Ojén." SURinEnlish.com 14 February, 2014.

7 - Forbes, Seánan. "Ojen Makes Its Long-Awaited Comeback." Tales of the Cocktail 09 February, 2016.

8 - J. A. Grohusko, Jack's Manual on The Vintage and Production, Care, and Handling of Wines, Liquors, etc. A Handbook of Information for Home, Club or Hotel, 3rd Edition (New York: McClunn & Co., 1910), 69. Print.

9 - Jacques Straub, Straub's Manual of Mixed Drinks (Chicago: The Hotel Monthly, John Willy, 1914), 33. Print.

10 - Hugo R. Ensslin, Recipes For Mixed Drinks (New York: Fox Printing House, 1917), 62. Print.

11 - El Arte De Hacer Un Cocktail Y Algo Más (Havana: Imprenta Fernandez Solana Y Ca. - Obsequio De La Cia Cervecera Internacional S. A., 1927), 173. Print.

12 - Herbert Jenkins LTD, A Life-time Collection of 688 Recipes for Drinks (London: Purnell and Sons, 1934), 37. Print.

13 - John Held Jr., Peychaud's New Orleans Cocktails (New Orleans: A. M. & J. Solari, LTD., 1935), 27. Print.

14 - Patrick Gavin Duffy, The Official Mixer's Manual. The Standard Guide for Professional and Amateur Bartenders Throughout the World (New York: Blue Ribbon Books, 1940), 201. Print.

15 - John Held Jr., Peychaud's New Orleans Cocktails (New Orleans: A. M. & J. Solari, LTD., 1935), 32. Print. Pink Shimmy is a copyrighted and trademarked name for The Ojen Cocktail (American / New Orleans Style) owned by Solari's New Orleans. It was sold pre-mixed and bottled using either Fernandez White Label Spanish Ojen or Solari's Ojen and Peychaud's bitters.

16 - Geo. R. Washburne and Stanley Bronner, Beverages De Luxe (Louisville: The Wine and Spirit Bulletin, 1914), 93. Print.

17 - J. A. Grohusko, Jack's Manual on The Vintage and Production, Care, and Handling of Wines, Liquors, etc. A Handbook of Information for Home, Club or Hotel (New York: McClunn & Co., 1916), 61. Print.

18 - Jere Sullivan, The Drinks of Yesteryear - A Mixology (New Haven: J. Sullivan, 1930), 24. Print.

19 - Albert Stevens Crockett, Old Waldorf Bar Days (New York: Aventine Press, 1931), 152. Print.

20 - Stanley Clisby Arthur, Famous New Orleans Drinks and How To Mix ’Em (New Orleans: Harmanson Publisher, 1937), 40. Print.

21 - Owen, D. (Writer), Lealos, C. (Director). (2015, February 9). Dead in New Orleans (Season 1, Episode 15) M. Bukhonina, E. Comerford-Rubin (Executive Producers) Booze Traveler. Travel Channel. Jack Maxwell hunts for the "almost extinct" liqueur Ojén which is the official booze of Mardi Gras and is seen as bad luck not to drink it. Fortunately he scores at Brennan's Restaurant where he is served from a secret stash of Fernandez White Label Ojen that is kept under lock and key. His first reaction is that it tastes like liquid Good & Plenty, the sweet black licorice barrels coated in bright pink and white hard candy shells.

22 - Jacques Straub, Straub's Manual of Mixed Drinks (Chicago: R. Francis Welsh, 1913), 35. Print.

23 - Thomas Bullock, The Ideal Bartender (St. Louis: Buxton & Skinner, 1917), 44. Print.

24 - El Arte De Hacer Un Cocktail Y Algo Más (Havana: Imprenta Fernandez Solana Y Ca. - Obsequio De La Cia Cervecera Internacional S. A., 1927), 51. Print.

25 - Gerardo Corrales, Club de Cantineros de la Rupublica de Cuba - Manual Oficial (Havana: José Cuervo, 1930), 54. Print.

26 - Pedro Chicote, La Ley Mojada (Madrid: Sucesores de Rivadeneyra, S. A., 1930), 203. Print.

27 - Segundo Menénez & Manuel Rodriguez, Bar La Florida Cocktails (Havana: Obispo y Monserrate, 1930), 64. Print.

28 - Bartender's of the Hotel Lincoln, Hotel "Lincoln" Cock-tail Book (Havana: Excelsior, 1937), 52. Print.

29 - Salvador Trullos Mateu Recetario Internacional de Cocktails (Havana: O'Reilly, 1937), 112. Print.

30 - Constantino "Constante" Ribalaigua, Floridita Cock-tails (Havana: El Floridita, 1939), 52. Print.

31 - Oscar Haimo of the Hotel Pierre, Cocktail Digest (Brooklyn, New York: Comet Press, 1943), 55. Print.

32 - Lucius Morris Beebe, The Stork Club Bar Book (New York: Rinehart, 1946), 89. Print.

33 - Ernest Hemingway, To Have and Have Not (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1937), 191. Print.

34 - Philip Greene, To Have and Have Another: A Hemingway Cocktail Companion (New York: TarcherPerigee , 2012), 180. Print.

#ojen #cocktails #drinks #mardi gras #new orleans

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didarida · 3 years

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noisynerdduckpainter · 3 years

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Tutti Conoscono 🇵🇹 OPorto, una pittorica cittadina divenuta celebre al mondo grazie al suo vino: il #porto, ma pochi sanno come viene prodotto e comep abbia fatto a raggiungere tale popolarità mondiale. _________________________________ Facciamo un piccolo passo indietro, attorno al 1600 quando dei mercanti inglesi, per caso, assaggiando questo vino e trovandolo particolarmente buono, decisero di portarlo in Patria per commercializzarlo. Ma l' unico modo che avevano di proteggerlo dalle ossidazioni durante il lungo viaggio era di aggiungere del Brandy (da qui la fortificazione tramite aguardiente). Alla nobiltà piacque talmente tanto, da stabilire circa 100 anni dopo, La compagnia del Vino di Porto ed andando a porre le basi per quello che è tuttora il disciplinare di produzione. _________________________________ La regione di produzione è l' Alta Valle del Douro ed i vitigni principalmente utilizzate sono: Touriga Nacional, Tinta Cão, Tinta Roriz, Tinta Barroca, Touriga Francesa, Tinta Amarela, Souzão. Questi danno vini molto colorati, profondi, da un rubino intenso. Una volta pigiate (n.b. coi raspi) vengono lasciate fermentare finché raggiungono un Vol. ALC. 6/8% circa, ed un grado zuccherino molto elevato (circa 100 gr. LT.). A questo punto aggiungono aguardiente (110lt. ogni 440 LT. di mosto) che va ad agire sui lieviti bloccando la fermentazione, ed alzando il grado Alc. al 20%. _________________________________ La classificazione viene fatta in base all' invecchiamento: Gli White o i Ruby sono i Porto più giovani. I Tawny, spesso ottenuto assemblando Porto Bianco e Rosso con brevi soste in botte. Fine Old Tawny, assemblaggi di molte annate e affinano in botte più di 20 anni. Porto Vintage, molto longevi che raggiungono il loro potenziale non prima dei 20 anni. LBV, riposa dai 4/6 anni in legno generalmente non riporta il millesimo. Vintage Character, cuvee di diverse annate. #sommelierlife🍷 #sommelierstudies #sommlife #mylife #myjob #mypassion #porto #portovintage #portowine #oporto #douro #dourovalley #portugal #formarsipernonfermarsi (presso Oporto City) https://www.instagram.com/p/CH5ufyOHa24/?igshid=tg7358dz3hu2

#porto #sommelierlife🍷#sommelierstudies #sommlife #mylife #myjob #mypassion #portovintage #portowine #oporto #douro #dourovalley #portugal #formarsipernonfermarsi

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annhallow87 · 3 years

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Ingredientes 100 gr. de cáscaras de naranja 1 l. de aguardiente de vino Una rama de canela 1/2 kg de azúcar 1/2 l. de agua 2 clavos de olor 1 cucharada de glicerina Elaboración En primer lugar, vamos a dejar macerar los ingredientes en el alcohol. Para ello vamos a coger un frasco de vidrio hermético y ponemos dentro las cáscaras de naranja (sin la parte blanca, a la hora de pelar las naranjas podemos utilizar un pelador de patatas), el aguardiente de vino, la rama de canela y también los clavos de olor. Lo tapamos y lo dejamos macerar 10 días, removiendo un poco cada día. Una vez pasado el tiempo de maceración, preparamos un almíbar con el agua y el azúcar. Para ello calentamos el agua, cuando empiece a hervir añadimos el azúcar y removemos bien. Retiramos del fuego y dejamos enfriar. Cuando el almíbar está frío, filtramos el alcohol de la maceración, retirando las cáscaras, la canela y los clavos, y se lo añadimos al almíbar. Embotellamos el licor, le añadimos la glicerina y lo dejamos reposar 4 días. #EstarBienconAnnHw #ImpulsateAEmprender (en Mexico City, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/CG6qJk7nknS/?igshid=x8te02tbyvxe

#estarbienconannhw #impulsateaemprender

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davidsoto666 · 4 years

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ITUTO

Ituto: Ceremonia fúnebre que se realiza tras la muerte de un babalocha o iyalocha para darle tranquilidad al espíritu del muerto. Durante el Itutu se sacrifican dos gallinas negras y se asiste a una misa católica de difuntos. Iwi: Fantasma, aparecido, espiritu de otro mundo. Tambien palos del monte, los bejucos, plantas rastreras. Iworo: Santero Iyá: El mayor de los tambores batá, en cuyo interior habita Añá Iyá: Madre Iyalocha o Yalocha: Madre de Orisha, Sacerdotisa. Santera.Sólo puede consultar los caracoles para hacer Itá una vez entrada en la menopausia. La etimología de la palabra es iya=madre + Osha=orisha y su significado es la madre de santo (en la actualidad se usa mayoritariamente la palabra “madrina” Iyawo (Iyabo): El que tiene asentado santo. Hombre o mujer, iniciado, novicio de la regla de ocha. Iyawó: Esposo/Esposa, mujer recien casada Jícara: Nombre que se le da a las vasijas hechas con el fruto de la güira (Crescentia cujeta, árbol de la familia Bignonácea) cortado en dos mitades, a las cuales se le extrae la pulpa interior, poniéndose a secar la corteza que luego se raspa y pulimenta. Juba: Reverenciar, considerar, estimar Jujú: Plumas Kanchila: hernia Kariocha: Asentar, consagrar a un neofito Kekere: pequeño Killa: Pañuelo de tres puntas usado en las ceremonias. Kunlé: Arrodillarse Leri de etu: Cabeza de guinea Lo: Ir Lucumí - Lukumí: Nombre americano de los yoruba. Maferefún: Alabado sea..... Mandinga: Grupo étnico originario de la zona comprendida entre los ríos Senegal y Níger. Portadores de la influencia musulmana a América. Mariwo: Adorno hecho con guano que se pone en las puertas de las casas de santo. Tambien el traje del iyawo de oggun Mayombe: El trato di recto del hombre con el nfumbe(muerto) Mayombero: Sacerdote dentro de una de las vertientes de la regla de Palo Monte. Meji(Meyi): Dos Mi: Mi Mo: Yo Moducué: Gracias Moforibale: Yo te saludo Mojúba(Moyúba): Yo te saludo Montar – (ser montado por un santo): Ser poseído místicamente por un santo durante una ceremonia. Se dice también “subirle el santo”, “bajarle el santo”, “caer con santo”. Monte: El monte es el lugar sagrado por excelencia. En ocasiones se refiere a la tierra en general (frente al cielo, Nganga: Prenda receptaculo de barro, hierro o guira que contiene las cargas magicas de los creyentes de la regla de palo monte. Nkobo: Concha. Son las conchas que tiran en la regla palo monte Nlo: VaÑáñigo: Practicante de la Sociedad Secreta Abakuá. Oba: Rey , Santero varón que dirige las ceremonias y es la máxima autoridad en ellas. Obakoso: Nombre honorario de Changó Obe: Cuchillo Obí Kola: Nuez de Palma Obí: Coco Obirín, obiní: Mujer Obo Orí: Rogación de cabeza Ocana, okana u okana sodde: Signo que corresponde en el diloggun al 1, es decir habla un solo caracol. Signo de peligro, de mal augurio. Oche: Hacha bipene, que simboliza la equidad de la justivcia regida por el Oricha Changó. Ochinchin: Comida a base de camarones, acelgas, tomates, alcaparras y huevo duro Ochumare(Osumare): Arco Iris. Odan, odane: Adorno que lleva la corona de ochun. Odduara oduara;educro: Piedra de rayo (o tocada por el rayo). Es atributo de chango. Oddun, oddu: Letra, tanto del diloggun como del Ifa. El resultado de la consulta a los oráculos es la obtención de los “ordunes” o “letras”, cada una de las cuales tiene un nombre específico. Las letras llevan asociadas una serie de parábolas llamadas patakis, de las cuales el santero saca conclusiones respecto a la vida de la persona que consulta el oráculo. El resultado final es la necesidad de llevar a cabo una serie mayor o menor, y más o menos complicada de ebós. La mitad de los oddús son masculinos y la otra mitad femeninos. Algunos son positivos (irés) y otros negativos (osogbo) Cada oddú explica parte del entendimiento del mundo en la santería. Odo: Río Ododó: Flor Odusain: Osainista Ofo: Pérdida Ofún: Cascarilla, Yeso (hecho de cáscaras de huevo) Ogbeni isin: Señor de la religión Oggue: Cuerno. Ogguedde: Plátano Ogun: Brujería Oji chequete: Bebida de maiz fermentado. Oke: Montaña, Orisha dios de la montaña. Oko: Bote; embarcacion. Acepciones: tambien es jardin, hombre, marido (okobiri, que tambien es mujer varonil); hermafrodita ; hombre impotente, sin virilidad, castrado (okobo) Okún: Mar, Océano Okuni, Okunrin: Hombre, Marido Okuta okutan: piedra. Olele: Tamal envuelto en hoja de platano,. pasta hecha a base e frijoles carita (ver ochinchin). Olo: Dueño, el poseedor... Olodumare: La cabeza de Dios, la energía que contiene todas las cosas inmutables. Eterno / Constante. De Olodumare salen todos los destinos que existen y también nacen las energías de derecha e izquierda. Edumare, Eledumare y Odumare son variaciones regionales del mismo nombre. Olórisa: Persona que venera su santo protector, su Orisha Olorun: El Sol Olubaté - Olubatá: Iniciado que ha pasado la ceremonia de consagración a Añá y puede tocar los tambores Batá. Sólo los hombres pueden ser olubatés. También llamados alubbatá. Oluwo: Señor de los Awos (Babalawo) Omí Dudu: Café Omí: Agua Omiero: Líquido sagrado preparado a base de yerbas consagradas a los orishas, tabaco, miel, ceniza, cascarilla, sangre de los sacrificios y otros ingredientes. Omilasa: Agua bendita. Omo: Hijo, niño Omo-orisha: Santo. Tras la ceremonia de asiento las personas se transforman en Omo-Orishas. Ona: Camino Ondo: Tribu yoruba africana Oñi pupuo: colmena. Es atributo de Ochun. Embarrando su cuerpo de oñi logro vencer los caracteres mas fuertes de distintas divinidades. sirve para endulzar, atraer, apaciguar. Oni: Dueño de... Oñí: Miel Opoaye poaye: Bastón de mando de Obatala; una de sus herramientas. De plata o metal blanco Opolopo: Mucho Opón Ifá: Tablero de Ifá. Oráculos: Dilogún (caracoles), Biangué u obi (cocos) e Ifa Orí: Cabeza, Manteca de Cacao Oriate, orihate: Maestro de ceremonias. Sabio dentro de la regla de ocha. Orisha Idilé: Es el Orisha al cual le hace culto una familia dentro de su hogar. Orisha Ilú: Es el Orishaque es venerado por una ciudad entera. Orisha Inu: Es el Orisha que representa el inconsciente de cada uno, el "yo" interno. Orisha Orí: Es el Orisha que actúa de guardián de cabeza de cada ser humano. Orisha: Ancestro divinizado. Espíritu que encarnó en el Mundo, vivió entre los hombres y pasó a la historia por haber realizado prodigios y otros hechos que le valieron su divinización a través de rituales que lo ligaron a algún Imalé. Hay distintos tipos de Orisha: Deidades del panteón yoruba, sincretizados con santos católicos en la santería. Originariamente, un orisha es un humano con un gran poder o sabiduría, que al morir pasa a ser adorado; sin embargo, a los orishas no se les considera muertos, sino espíritus activos: “No los veremos, pero nos estamos codeando con los muertos y con los Santos a todas horas. Nuestros negros están convencidos de que vivimos rodeados de espíritus y que a su influencia se debe cuanto malo o bueno les sucede.” En África, distintas tribus yorubas adoraban a distintos Orishas, aunque había también Orishas adorados por todas las tribus (como Obatalá). Todas las personas son hijos o hijas de un determinado orisha, al que deben venerar especialmente y al que se le llama su Ángel de la Guarda. La etimología de la palabra “orisha” puede ser o bien “asha” (ceremonia religiosa) o bien “ri” (ver) + “sha” (escoger) Orun (orubo): Imploracion Orún Oru: Cielo, Espacio donde viven todos los seres espirituales. Orungan: Mediodia. Tambien: Orisha Orungan, que algunas leyendas afirman que fue el primier adivinador de Ifa. Deidad muy adorada en Africa. Osain: Uno de los Orishas, dueño de la vegetación terrestre. Un tipo de ceremonia secreta. Osainista: Sacerdote dedicado al culto del orisha Osain y al conocimiento de la flora y la fauna. Encargado de tomar, recoger del monte las hierbas y palos necesarios para las diferentes liturgias. Osi: Izquierdo Osogbo(Oshogbo): Ciudad Yoruba en Nigeria, Africa. Río nigeriano que atraviesa dicha ciudad Osogbo: Influencia negativa Osun: La pintura que se le pone al iniciado en el momento de asentarle el santo. Orisha mayor que se representa con un receptaculo que en su par te superior tiene un gallo metalico Ota, Otan: Piedra receptaculo del orisha que de acuerdo al que se recibe son sus cantidades. Otan yebiye: Piedra fina, joya. Otí: Aguardiente, Ron Otun: Derecha Oú: Algodón Owó: Dinero, riqueza. Tambien: negocio; tarro, permiso; palma de la mano. Oyiyi oku: espiritus.(oku:muerto; oyiyi, ir lejos) Oyó: Ciudad, capital del imperio del mismo nombre, situado al norte de Dahomey. Es el imperio Yoruba. Su caída provoca el envío de gran cantidad de esclavos yoruba a América. Según la leyenda, Changó fue el cuarto rey de Oyó. Oyugbona - Oyubona: Segundo padrino o segunda madrina. Pagugu: Bastón de madera que se utiliza en las ceremonias fúnebres y representa los eggun Palenque: Poblaciones de cimarrones. Palero: Creyente de la Regla de Palo Monte. Palo Monte: Regla de origen congo, que se distingue de la santería básicamente por hacer más hincapié en el culto a los muertos y la magia (mientras que la santería se centró en el culto a los orishas). Paraldos: Ebbos para quitar la muerte, espíritus enviados u oscuros. Pataki - Patakin: Narración de leyendas y fábulas concernientes a los Orishas, sus caminos,(avatares), con una moraleja, lo que ayuda a la definicion de sus dones o atributos. Pinaldo: Cuchillo de Oggun. Posesión: Bajada de los Orishas, que se “meten” en el cuerpo de un creyente para comunicarse con los humanos. Se le llama también “toque” o “plante de santo”. Los fieles llevan los atributos y collares de sus santos; en el santuario se han colocado las soperas, los caracoles sagrados y los otases Presentación al tambor: Ceremonia en la que el iyawó le da un tambor a un santo. Sin esta ceremonia, el iyawó no puede asistir a ninguna fiesta porque no puede saludar ni bailar al tambor. Pupa(pupua ): Rojo Rayado: Iniciado en la Regla de Palo Monte Recibir collares: Ceremonia de iniciación a la santería. Primero se hacen los collares, luego se consagran y luego se imponen. Recibir guerreros: Ceremonia en la que se recibe a los orishas guerreros: Eleguá, Ogún y Oshosi. Recibir Olokun: Ceremonia por la que se recibe a este orisha Recibir pinaldo o cuchillo: Ceremonia de confirmación de su santo de un santero o santera, un año después del asiento. En ella se obtiene la mayoría y a partir de ahí puede hacer todo tipo de ceremonias (como los sacrificios de animales en que se haya de utilizar cuchillo) A pesar de haber recibido Pinaldo, sin embargo, las mujeres no pueden sacrificar animales de cuatro patas. Registro de Entrada Registro: El día de Itá se consultan los caracoles y se escribe el “registro”, en el que se norma la vida del iniciado a partir de ese momento. En el registro se incluyen detalles sobre la vida pasada del iyawó, se describe su situación presente y se pronostica el futuro. Sólo el iniciado y su padrino - madrina pueden leer el Registro. Registro Final: Cuando muere un santero(a) se consulta a los orishas para conocer el destino de los santos que el santero poseía, las ceremonias que han de realizarse y las advertencias que han de darse a sus familiares. Regla: Culto o religión, normalmente aplicado a las de origen africano. Las reglas más importantes son Regla de Osha o Regla Lucumí (santería), Regla de Palo Monte o Regla Conga (Mayombe) y Regla Arará (de origen dahomeyano) Algunas personas hablan también de la Regla espiritista, de la regla abakuá e incluso de la Regla de blancos (el catolicismo) Regla Kimbisa del Santo Cristo del Buen Viaje Una de las cuatro Reglas congas principales Regla de Ocha: Religión popular surgida en Cuba durante la época colonial española, cuyo sistema de creencias y complejo ritual está basado en la reverencia y adoración a los orishas del panteón del pueblo yoruba de Nigeria, sincretizados en su mayoría con santos católicos. Retirar el santo: Hacer que termine el trance o posesión. Se denomina también “sacar el Santo”Sacrificio de animales: “El alma o principio vital está en la sangre” Además de la sangre, se utilizan diversas partes del animal, llamadas asheses, que se cocinarán después de una forma específica por el santero. Saludo al orisha: La postura depende del sexo del que saluda. Si se saluda a un santero mayor, en realidad se está saludando a su ángel de la guarda. Santero levantado: Santero que, por sus conocimientos, es invitado a participar en una ceremonia Santo de cabecera: El santo principal al que se dedica la devoción de un iniciado. Santos de addimú: Santos que se reciben antes o después de la ceremonia de asiento, para resolver problemas específicos. Santos de fundamento: Santos que se reciben en la ceremonia de asiento además del santo de cabecera. Normalmente son Shangó, Oshún, Yemayá y Obatalá. Sekere (Chequere): Instrumento musical hecho de guira, cubierto con cordones trenzados Séptimo día: Primer día en que el iyawó sale a la calle. Se le llama también Día de la Plaza. Debido al sincretismo con la iglesia católica, durante este día se visita una iglesia para dar cuenta de que el iyawó coronó santo. Sire: Orden de saludos y cantos a los Orichas en los rituales litúrgicos. Festejos Sodo-orisha: Asiento. Ceremonia en la que se da el ashé a los Iyawós. Sopera: Recipiente en el que habitan los orishas. Cada sopera tiene los colores del santo invocado. Surefun: Bendecir Temí: Mi, mío Tie: Tu, su Timbelese: Al pie de... Tobí: Que parió Tutu: Fresco Uke (ukere): Escobita con que se barre el tablero de Ifa, debe estar hecha de pelo de caballo. Wa: Ven Waní: El que viene Wemilere: BembéYeye: Mama Yuba: Saludo Yefa: Ache de Orula, polvo mágico hecho de colmillo de elefante o ñame molido que se esparce sobre el tablero de ifa para adivinar y hacer otros trabajos. Yoko Osha: Asiento de orisha (asentar el santo), ceremonia de consagracion de un orisha

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carlosprietoblog · 4 years

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El emperador de Galápagos (Por Matias Zibell)

Islas Galápagos: la increíble vida del hombre más poderoso en la historia del archipiélago en el Pacífico (y no fue Charles Darwin)

"Si tú le dices a un extranjero, que se está comprando un boleto para ir a ver a Darwin y a las tortugas, que en Galápagos hace 200 años hubo un ingenio azucarero, te va a decir que no es posible".

Con estas tres líneas Florencio Delgado, arqueólogo de la Universidad de San Francisco de Quito, tenía asegurada mi atención. Pero había más:

"Te imaginas que hubo gente que trajo agua del cráter de un volcán para un ingenio -que proveía al continente- de 20.000 toneladas anuales de azúcar, que construyeron líneas de tren para sacar la caña, y que todo eso fue dirigido por una persona: Cobos".

Hasta ese momento, yo asimilaba un solo nombre propio con Galápagos: Charles Darwin y su famosa obra "El origen de las especies". Pero siguiendo la pista de Florencio Delgado llegué a otro libro y a otro nombre: "Manuel J. Cobos. Emperador de Galápagos".

El autor de este libro es Octavio Latorre, el primer historiador que contó la historia de Cobos a finales del siglo pasado, y lo describió como un hombre "incansable para el trabajo, tenaz en sus propósitos, seguro de sí mismo y de su estrella".

Pero inmediatamente advierte que "el aspecto humano, o más bien, inhumano de Cobos, anula mucho de lo bueno y grande de su obra".

Esa obra, ubicada en la parte alta de la isla San Cristóbal, ha intentado ser rescatada por los pobladores del lugar, funcionarios locales, universidades nacionales y extranjeras, pero el legado de Cobos permanece desconocido para muchos ecuatorianos y la gran mayoría de extranjeros, esos que viajan a ver a Darwin y a las tortugas.

Colonización, orchilla y azúcar

"No sabemos mucho de las actividades de Cobos antes de su aparición en Galápagos -dice Latorre- excepto que era un activo comerciante que tenía su base de operaciones en Chanduy, un puesto sospechosamente atractivo para el contrabando".

Según el historiador, lo que atrae a Cobos a Galápagos, más precisamente a la isla de San Cristóbal (que en los mapas antiguos figuraba como Chatham), fue la explotación de orchilla, un líquen utilizado en la industria tintorera.

Esto ocurrió en 1866, 42 años después de que Ecuador se hiciera cargo de las islas y en medio de ingentes esfuerzos del gobierno ecuatoriano por colonizarlas.

En 1880, luego de pasar 10 años explotando este líquen en Baja California, Cobos regresa a San Cristóbal a buscar nuevas oportunidades, ya que el negocio de la orchilla había sido afectado por el progreso de las anilinas europeas.

En la isla, Cobos comienza la preparación del terreno para plantar caña de azúcar para la confección de mieles, panela y aguardiente. En Guayaquil, su socio José Monroy comercializa los productos y consigue trabajadores para el ingenio.

"Es difícil conocer cuántos trabajadores eran ´forzados´ y cuántos ´conciertos´ o voluntarios, pues nunca se hizo diferencia en la hacienda ni se tenía trato especial en la isla. Una vez llegados allá, todos estaban sujetos a la misma regla, la misma comida y a los mismos castigos", dice Latorre.

Los castigos no eran tan comunes porque toda la población de la isla dependía completamente de la voluntad de Cobos, tanto en comida y agua, como en vivienda y transporte. El dueño del ingenio incluso creó su propia moneda.

Pero en ocasiones, la insubordinación ocurría y se pagaba con azotes, palos o latigazos. En casos más graves, como en un levantamiento en 1886, cinco trabajadores fueron fusilados. El segundo motín, en 1904, culminaría con el asesinato de Cobos.

Otro castigo era el confinamiento a las islas desiertas. El caso más conocido fue el de Camilo Casanova, enviado a la isla Chávez, quien vivió cuatro años como un auténtico Robinson Crusoe.

Algunos barcos que pasaron por la isla le dejaron comida, pero nadie lo rescató. Cuando finalmente, tras la muerte de Cobos, un barco fue por él, cuenta Latorre que, al alejarse de su prisión, Casanova "se fijó en un letrero levantado sobre una de las últimas rocas que emergían del mar: Se ruega no sacar a este hombre, porque es veinte veces criminal".

Industrialización y barbarie

Hugo Idrovo le dice a BBC Mundo que es necesario ubicar a Cobos en su contexto histórico: un terrateniente propio de un Ecuador que se sostenía sobre los hombros de la jerarquía agroexportadora en los siglos XIX y XX.

Idrovo -cantautor, pintor y escritor ecuatoriano- leyó el libro de Latorre en 1997, poco antes de mudarse a San Cristóbal; la historia de Cobos lo fascinó de tal manera que seis años después consiguió que los vestigios del ingenio azucarero fueran declarados como bienes patrimoniales de la nación.

"Cobos ha sido el único acusado y condenado por sus supuestos excesos, pues mucho incide el hecho de haber vivido y muerto en un lugar tan visible como Galápagos", dice Idrovo y añade:

"Este hombre tan contradictorio, que se atrevió a instalar una hacienda de casi 3.000 hectáreas y un ingenio donde nadie lo pensaba, en cuanto a arbitrariedades y desafíos a las leyes vigentes, no alcanza ni a los talones de aquellos capataces y hacendados, pesos pesados de su época".

En la década de 1880 comienza lo que hace a Cobos un colonizador único: la importación de maquinaria para el ingenio azucarero desde Escocia hacia San Cristóbal, aprovechando las ventajas impositivas ofrecidas por el gobierno.

Esta industrialización es acompañada por un sistema de transporte de agua, el trazado de caminos y la instalación de rieles que llevan la mercadería al puerto, en carros que empujan bueyes (Cobos quería pero no llegó a importar una locomotora de vapor).

"Hemos estudiado parte de la basura de Cobos. El tipo comía en loza china e inglesa. Traía medicinas de Europa. A la hija le daba muñecas traídas de Francia. Pensamos que la globalización es una cosa moderna. Este tipo hace 200 años tenía todas las conexiones en Galápagos".

Esto me lo dice Florencio Delgado, quien conoció la hacienda de Cobos por primera vez gracias a Hugo Idrovo y luego regresó con la Universidad de San Francisco de Quito y expertos de la Universidad de Victoria y de la Universidad Saint Frazier de Canadá.

Para Diego Quiroga, antropólogo de la Universidad San Francisco de Quito que participó del proyecto, lo más interesante de la historia de Cobos es la combinación de un proceso de industrialización con el aislamiento de Galápagos:

"¿Por qué una persona que quiere el desarrollo se va al fin del mundo? Para mí es un misterio. Se mezcla un espíritu aventurero, quizás, con alguien que quería hacer las cosas un poco torcidas, quería tener un reino para él mismo donde nadie se meta".

"Regiones infernales"

Quiroga recuerda que Cobos llegó a Galápagos pocas décadas después de Charles Darwin, unos 30 años para ser exactos, y que el archipiélago estaba lejos de ser ese destino paradisíaco que es hoy en día:

"Ahora tú ves un Galápagos turístico, pero en ese tiempo debió haber sido un lugar terriblemente duro, lo dice Darwin, lo dice Melville, lo dicen un montón de escritores que hablan sobre Galápagos".

El 16 de septiembre de 1835, Darwin pisó San Cristóbal y escribió la siguiente descripción en su diario:

"Las rocas negras, calentadas como estufas por los rayos de un sol vertical, generan en el aire una sensación de pesadez y sofocamiento. Las plantas, además, huelen de forma desagradable. El paisaje es comparable a lo que podemos imaginarnos que deben ser las partes cultivadas de las regiones infernales".

En su libro Las Encantadas, Herman Melville, autor de Moby Dick, quien visitó las islas pocos años después que Darwin, escribe:

"Otro de los aspectos notables de estos lugares es su dificultad para habitarlos. Aun en las ruinas más desoladoras puede el chacal hacer su cueva y convertirlas así en su hogar, pero las Galápagos rechazan albergar hasta las bestias".

Sin embargo, Galápagos albergó todo tipo de historias de las que poco se habla, lo que responde -según el antropólogo Quiroga- a una forma dual de entender las islas:

"Darwin llega, apenas menciona a la gente del lugar y toda su narrativa, más la de todos los científicos famosos después de él, conciben Galápagos como un laboratorio natural y se crea esta imagen, que se refuerza con el turismo, que niega la existencia de gente".

"Por otro lado están las historias de los que habitaron Galápagos que son bien interesantes, y eso se trata de tapar", dice Quiroga, quien ve una tensión entre lo local, con la gente que quiere vivir en Galápagos, y la visión global que ve en las islas un lugar prístino.

Para el arqueólogo Delgado, hay toda una población campesina en las islas, originaria de todas partes de Ecuador, que no es vista por el turista, por eso el proyecto de las universidades ha recogido sus memorias, pero es necesario ir más allá.

Desde la época en que Hugo Idrovo era gestor cultural en Galápagos, han existido proyectos para crear un museo en el antiguo ingenio azucarero de Cobos para que los visitantes no se queden en las playas y suban a la parroquia donde todo comenzó; ahora quizás sea más factible, gracias a otro Cobos…

El bisnieto

Cuando visito la alcaldía de San Cristóbal, a pocos metros de la playa, me recibe Henry Cobos, quien desde 2019 es el alcalde de las islas de San Cristóbal y Floreana. Él es el bisnieto de aquel colonizador y el primero de sus descendientes que llega a la alcaldía.

"No puede pasar desapercibida nuestra historia cultural, el turista no sólo quiere ver la fauna y la flora, quiere saber también de la parte humana; las juntas parroquiales y el Ministerio de Cultura deberíamos fortalecer esa historia, con la ayuda de universidades", le dice a BBC Mundo.

Luego comenzamos a subir hacia el antiguo ingenio, donde nos espera Luis Chango, presidente del gobierno parroquial y Eddy Becerra, quien ha trabajado estos años con los expertos universitarios.

"Somos en la parroquia unos 800 habitantes y hay personas de las tres regiones del continente: Sierra, Oriente y Costa", dice a BBC Mundo Luis Chango y añade que la actividad económica principal -como en los tiempos de Cobos- sigue siendo la agricultura.

Pero desde los años de Cobos hasta la actualidad, mucha gente fue bajando de la parte alta de la isla hacia la playa, donde la pesca se volvió el mayor ingreso, y luego se quedó cuando llegó el turismo.

"Nosotros tratamos de rescatar nuestra cultura, queremos hacer una suerte de museo donde funcionó el ingenio azucarero. Si fue el primer asentamiento permanente en Galápagos, tienes que tener esos cimientos", señala.

Eddy Becerra, a su lado, dice que la llegada de las universidades fue la oportunidad que estaban aguardando:

"Cuando vinieron por primera vez hace cinco años me encantó la idea de reconstruir la historia. Yo trabajaba en ese tiempo en la biblioteca municipal y yo veía cómo ignorábamos a la gente mayor, a sus historias. Entonces me gustó sumarme al proyecto, con los arqueólogos y antropólogos".

Cuando dejamos la parroquia, tras visitar las ruinas del antiguo ingenio invadidas por la niebla, Becerra concluye:

"Sin patrimonio, sin identidad, sin cultura, sin arte, sin educación, una población sólo será una población vacía".

El Progreso

Florencio Delgado me dice en Quito que la segunda fase del proyecto prevé un museo industrial para que la gente conozca la historia de Manuel J. Cobos y del primer asentamiento permanente en el Archipiélago.

"Es un pueblo que se puede volver fantasma, cuando es el origen de Galápagos, es la comunidad ancestral, primigenia: las memorias de esa gente son patrimonio intangible del galapagueño. Pero eso no se ha tomado todavía muy en cuenta. Ahora que el alcalde es descendiente de Cobos hay una oportunidad política más grande".

Al dejar San Cristóbal le pregunto a Henry Cobos qué opina de su bisabuelo y me responde que más allá de toda la controversia, él lo ve como un hombre con visión:

"Yo me pregunto qué hubiera pasado si no lo hubieran matado. Quizás las Galápagos serían independientes del continente. Porque si tú fabricas tu propia moneda, ¿qué quieres decir?, que quieres una soberanía".

Para el antropólogo Diego Quiroga, Cobos no tenía ni la fuerza militar ni económica para soñar con un Galápagos autónomo del continente, y Ecuador no lo hubiera permitido.

"Siempre hubo naciones que quisieron comprar o apoderarse de Galápagos y de alguna manera el país siempre demostró que le interesaban las islas", dice Quiroga.

El mismo Latorre recuerda en su libro que en los años de Cobos en San Cristóbal, Francia y Estados Unidos, en pleno proyecto de construcción del Canal de Panamá, pusieron sus ojos en el archipiélago ecuatoriano.

"Nunca se sabe -concluye Quiroga- porque también es cierto que hay muchas islas en el Pacífico como la Polinesia que son naciones estado y no son mucho más grandes que Galápagos; me parece una idea provocadora".

¿Pudo haber sido el "emperador de Galápagos" el primer presidente del archipiélago? Su muerte en enero de 1904 dejó esa pregunta sin respuesta.

Ese y otros interrogantes permanecen enterrados en una parroquia agrícola con raíces industriales, que añora un museo para recuperar su historia, y que -con su mezcla de proeza y crueldad- no podía llamarse de otra forma que El Progreso.

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