#john Concepcion

[diioonysus]

necklaces/chokers + art

[thefeawl]

Back Row, left to right: Dave Collins, Paul Blair, Rick Auerbach, Tom Hume, Ray Knight, Doug Bair, Dan Driessen, Harry Spilman, Junior Kennedy, Vic Correll.

Middle Row: Doug Bureman, Traveling Secretary; Bernie Stowe, Equipment Manager; Cesar Geronimo, Dave Tomlin, Frank Pastore, Bill Bonham, Mike LaCoss, George Foster, Manny Sarmiento, Hector Cruz, Dave Doyle, Bat Boy; Larry Starr, Trainer.

Front Row: Tom Seaver, Joe Morgan, Dave Concepcion, Russ Nixon, Coach; Bill Fischer, Coach; John McNamara, Manager; Harry Dunlop, Coach; Ron Plaza, Coach; Fred Norman, Johnny Bench, Mario Soto, Absent; Ken Griffey

[domjaehyun]

under the influence (l.dh)

PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.6k WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon (she’s timid but very much likes the attention), pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ hii i hope you enjoy! any and all positive feedback is greatly appreciated, so send me an ask if you liked it or let me know in the tags pretty please :) 

As you press the button to call the elevator, you start to get the jitters. They start in your fingertips and travel up your arms to the back of your neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end, and you shudder slightly, shaking your head in an attempt to do away with the sensation.

The doors open with a ding, and you jump at the sound, making Yeri look over at you in alarm.

“Are you okay?” she asks, worries, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly and vigorously to be convincing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say with a frown, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Nothing!” you insist.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Karina reminds you, and your frown deepens. “But if you say so, I guess.” 

Relieved, you follow Yeri and Karina into the elevator and lean into the back corner of the shaft, resting your back against where the two walls meet. 

“We should watch a movie today,” Karina suggests excitedly, and she and Yeri fall into a discussion that you would join if you weren’t busy thinking about Haechan and whatever stunts he’s going to pull today. 

It takes three calls of your name from Karina and a vigorous shake from Yeri to snap you out of it, and you look at them sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Girl, where do you keep going? Every time I look over at you, you’re in la-la land.” Yeri asks, concerned and amused.

“Sorry, I was just… thinking.” you mumble.

“We know that,” Yeri says with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. “Thinking about what, hm?” she presses, and you balk.

“She’s probably thinking about Haechan and what stunts he’s gonna pull today.” Karina supposes, and you frown, upset you’ve been caught.

In your defense, Haechan is always up to shenanigans when you’re around; he pulls at your skirt to fluster you, plays with your hair to get your attention, strokes under your chin just to watch your eyes glaze over—you name it, he’s either done it or is probably thinking about it.

You can’t honestly say his advances are unwelcome because, well, you’ve had a crush on him for the past six months. But something about him is so intense, so jarringly locked in, that it makes you hesitate, and being the object of his full and undivided attention never fails to make you the shyest version of yourself, and you manage to make a fool of yourself almost every single time you get around him, and you have no idea how you’re going to deal with his antics today. 

“Girl.” Karina’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain and you blink hard, focusing on your friend’s concerned expression. “You’re doing it again.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “I’m here, for real.”

As the bell dings and the doors open, the three of you file out of the elevator, walking towards the end of the hall to your destination.

“If you need help with him, let us know. We can make up a code word!” Karina suggests helpfully, and you smile, endeared by your friend’s attempt to calm your nerves.

“What should it be?” you wonder, and she screws her face up thoughtfully.

“Blinker.” Yeri answers, and you both turn to look at her. “It should be blinker. Like, if he’s getting too close and you can’t handle it, you can just say you kinda wanna try hitting a blinker or something like that.”

“The last time I hit a blinker, I coughed for ten minutes straight and it was the most painful experience of my life.” Karina recalls, grimacing at the memory. “It’s perfect.”

“Great.” Yeri says, smiling reassuringly at you before the three of you stop in front of the apartment door. Without a second thought, Yeri knocks three times on the door, stepping back to where you two are standing and waits with you for someone to open the door.

It opens a moment later to reveal Haechan standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door, and you wonder how such a simple stance has you short of breath.

He looks at Karina and Yeri, smiling pleasantly, before he locks eyes with you. Slowly wetting his lips, his eyes slowly drag up and down your frame, taking in your outfit and appearance before he meets your gaze once more and drops one eyelid into a flirtatious wink.

“Come on in,” he invites, stepping back to let Karina and Yeri in. When it’s your turn to pass, he moves closer, deliberately blocking part of your way so you have to brush by him to enter, and you’re sure it’s also no coincidence that he’s positioned himself so your chest has to brush against his. You swallow your nerves and continue walking past him, not daring to look back in case he’s looking at you; which, if today is anything like every other day you all hang out, he most certainly is. 

Shutting the door behind you, Haechan follows after the three of you into the living room, but waits, standing, by the chair where Mark sits—for what, you don’t know. You wave hello to Mark in his favorite armchair and Jeno on one end of the couch, who greet you pleasantly and resume their tasks of packing the bong and rolling a joint, respectively. Mildly confused but saying nothing at Haechan’s behavior, you take a seat at the other end of the couch, only for Haechan to move at last, crossing the living room to sit directly next to you.

Your throat dries up at the prospect of being so close to him, and you inhale shakily, wanting desperately to roll your eyes back in your head when you catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests one elbow on his knee and observes you with his cheek in his palm. His expression is nothing short of desiring as he takes in your appearance, your burgundy pleated skirt and short-sleeved cream blouse apparently quite the fascinating little number to him, causing you to shift awkwardly in your seat and self-consciously tug your skirt down a bit.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m staring at you because you look good,” Haechan compliments, eyeing you appreciatively. “You always look good, though, but today… damn.”

You blink at him, stunned by the flirtatious lilt to his voice, and mumble, “Oh.”

“Oh?” he mimics you, chuckling, and you furrow your brows, frowning at his teasing. His brows lift up as his face brightens with amusement, and he shakes his head slowly with a smile.

“Thank you.” you say softly, and he nods, smile widening. 

“You’re so cute.” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but at him, but he recaptures your attention when he snickers quietly and you meet his gaze to see he’s no longer looking at your eyes, but your lips, and there’s a distinct longing in his stare that unnerves you and, if you’re honest, piques your curiosity. “Did you make it here okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, eyes shifting back and forth from his eyes to your lap before you give into temptation and look at his lips, regretting it instantly when they quirk up into a smirk as he catches you looking. “The bus was basically empty, and it had heating today.”

“Mm, that’s good to hear,” he muses, running his fingers through his hair, and you attempt to hide the way you swallow thickly at the attractive sight. “We don’t want anyone pressing up against such a pretty girl and trying anything sleazy, right?”

“Um…” you trail off, managing to restrain the reply on the tip of your tongue that Haechan is probably the most likely candidate to press up against you and try something sleazy.

“...Right.” he finishes for you, and you nibble your bottom lip.

“...Right.” you echo, and he grins. 

“So… Do you wanna smoke?” he asks.

“I do,” you confirm shyly, and he smiles slightly, no doubt amused by your nervousness.

“Good girl. Did you wanna hit my pen? It’s pretty strong.” he offers, and you won’t lie—your brain blanks for a minute at the praise, but you’re pretty sure you manage to recover just in time for Haechan not to notice anything.  

“Okay,” you reply hesitantly, and he grins.

“Great—give me one second to get something.” he says before standing up and heading to the back of the apartment to his room. You wait fairly patiently, fingers lightly drumming on your knee as you wait for him to return.

“What’s up?” Mark asks curiously.

“Haechan’s getting something from his room.” you explain, and Mark nods slowly, lips pursed thoughtfully.

Haechan returns from the back of the apartment after a moment with a new cartridge in his hand. You watch with mild fascination as he deftly switches the cartridges in his pen, taking a test pull and holding it in for so much time, you’d swear he’s trying to show off.

When he looks over at you and winks before blowing it out, your suspicions are confirmed. 

“This strain is special,” Haechan murmurs to you, and his eyes drop to your lips as he continues, “it’s a ‘horny’ strain.”

“A horny strain?” you mumble, confused, and he nods with a grin.

“It heightens libido.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want some?”

“That’s not real,” Mark calls out from across the living room, and you crane your head to see him. “There’s no actual science to back that up.”

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No one signed up for your TEDTalk on weed; save it.”

Mark grumbles something about misinformation being the death of society but remains otherwise silent.

Haechan calls your attention back to him with a simple clearing of the throat, and you look back at him to see his gaze heavy-lidded and sultry as he regards you, and you start to wonder if Mark might actually be the misinformed one.

“Want some?” he repeats his question from earlier, and you hesitate, making him roll his eyes and chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you.” As you shift closer to take the pen from him, he holds it out of your reach with a glint in his eye. “I might, though,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly.

He scans your frame, eyes lingering on your almost outstretched hand, and takes a slow, deep pull from the pen, not holding it in for nearly as long before he’s leaning towards you suddenly, making you yelp and draw back.

“Relax,” he mumbles, some of the smoke slipping from his mouth. He cups your chin in his hand and tugs gently to get you to open your mouth before leaning closer, so close that you fear your lips might touch, leading you to attempt to pull back; however, Haechan’s grip on your chin tightens, a clear sign to stay where you are, and he blows the smoke into your mouth slowly. You’re deeply flustered at first, but your instincts kick in as you inhale the secondhand smoke, holding it in your lungs for a couple of seconds before blowing it back out.

When you’re done exhaling, you expect to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on you hasn’t loosened, the male now studying your lips with an intensity in his gaze that gives you a twinge of anxiety and something else you don’t have it in you to identify. 

“You ever shotgunned before?” he asks softly, and you shake your head as much as his hold on you will allow. “You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you mumble meekly. “Can you let me go now?”

He rolls his eyes slowly, lips quirking into a cocky grin as he does just that, releasing your chin and sitting back. “If you say so.”

“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, and he flicks his brows upwards in acknowledgement, gaze scanning you before lingering for a moment by the side of your face. “What is it?”

“You have something in your hair,” he says, gesturing to near your ear. When you fail to retrieve the foreign object, he tsks in dissatisfaction before leaning over and gently removing a single white feather from your hair. “Probably from the pillows.” he explains, the backs of his fingers gently grazing your ear as he pulls back. When you squirm away from his touch slightly, the contact too sensitive and ticklish, Haechan chuckles softly. “Look how nervous I make you.” His fingers return to your ear, gently stroking the shell of your ear, and your face blazes with embarrassment and something else as he hums softly. “Even your ear is hot. Do I make you hot anywhere else?” He drops his hand, fingers lightly skimming your upper thigh, and you just about jump out of your skin, cursing internally when you see the delight in his expression.

“Thanks for getting the feather out of my hair,” you say in a desperate attempt to navigate the conversation elsewhere, but it seems Haechan isn’t quite set on letting you off that easily.

“Oh, come on,” he presses, sitting closer to you and leaning so close you can smell his (delicious) cologne. “Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing right now.”

It is, you think grimly. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.

“Haechan, leave the poor girl alone,” Karina calls from the other end of the couch, and the momentary waver in Haechan’s attention on you as his eyes dart elsewhere is all you need to scoot further back and smooth your skirt out with a vigorous clearing of your throat.

When Haechan looks back over at you, you’ve thankfully managed to regain a semblance of your composure, your gaze politely but pointedly focused at your hands in your lap.

“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.

He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.

“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 

“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.

you [18:11pm] SOS

you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?

You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 

Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 

Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.

yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁

karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass??

yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there

yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.

Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.

“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 

“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”

“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 

“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 

“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 

“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.

“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”

“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.

“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”

You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.

“Hey, Yeri?” you call, and her attention is on you instantly. “Remember when, um, you hit that blinker earlier? How’s your throat feeling?”

Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in understanding and she rubs her throat gingerly, frowning deeply. “It’s still sore. Wanna come get some water with me?”

“Yes,” you accept the offer gratefully and practically spring up from the couch, following after Yeri and ignoring, to the best of your ability, Haechan’s little snicker from behind you.

“You wanna switch seats?” Yeri asks in a low, concerned voice as you two enter the kitchen, and she laughs when you hesitate.

“I mean, I like it, I just… need a quick break.” you mumble, and she nods, pouring herself a glass of water. “Could you guys, um, hear him earlier?”

“No… why?” she scrutinizes you, and you blink, flustered. 

“He saw the group chat texts.” you mutter, and her eyes widen in alarm, setting her glass down a bit too harshly, the loud clink resonating throughout the room.

“I’m gonna kill Yurin.” she hisses.

“Not if I get there first.” you huff, and she snickers. Footsteps sound out from the living room, making their way to the kitchen, and Yeri pauses. “It’s not Haechan,” you assure her. “I think it’s Karina.”

Sure enough, Karina enters the kitchen, and Yeri looks at you in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“I recognize the footsteps.” you explain with a shrug. “Plus, the guys are wearing house slippers and we’re in, like, socks, so it makes a different sound.”

“Okay, little miss super spy.” Yeri teases with a laugh, and you giggle, pushing her playfully. “Have you recovered, you think?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, smiling. “I’m ready to go back out there.”

“What’d I miss?” Karina whines, and Yeri looks at you expectantly.

“Haechan saw the texts about me… at night… that Yurin sent.” you explain carefully, and Karina lets out a loud gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

“I’m killing her.” she groans, and you and Yeri chuckle.

“Get in line, girl.” Yeri says, and Karina snorts in amusement.

“You’re gonna be okay if we go back out there, right?” Karina asks worriedly, and you’re briefly overcome with appreciation for your friends.

“I’ll be okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll just say blinker again if anything goes wrong.” you confirm, nodding resolutely, and the crease between Karina’s brows fades away as she relaxes.

You three make your way back to the living room, fully preparing to sit back down, but thankfully, before Haechan can torment you further, Jeno inadvertently saves your life and whatever’s left of your dignity by standing up from the couch abruptly and clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry. Diner?”

“I would kill for waffles,” Karina agrees, and Mark and Haechan also stand and start to grab their belongings as you all make your way to the door and slip your shoes on. 

As you shuffle between Yeri and Karina for protection and wait as the elevator descends to the indoor garage of the apartment complex, a tickle starts to build in your throat, making you clear it quietly, then more insistently when the sensation persists. 

“You okay?” Haechan asks, hand poised over your back to pat it in assistance, and you nod.

“My throat is just… a little dry,” you mumble, and Haechan nods in understanding, reaching into his jacket and handing you a Blow Pop. “Thanks,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised as you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth. By the time the doors open on the garage floor, the flavored saliva produced by the sweet treat sitting in your cheek has almost entirely soothed your throat, and you’re feeling significantly better. 

The six of you make your way to where Jeno’s and Haechan’s cars are parked beside each other and stand behind the two cars, silently deliberating amongst yourselves.

“Well, I call shotgun.” Mark calls out, and Jeno unlocks his car, Mark sliding into the passenger seat.

“There’s no way all six of us are gonna cram into Jeno’s car,” Yeri remarks incredulously. 

“Yeah, definitely not, because my middle backseat’s seat belt isn’t working and the airbag sensors are fucked up, so it’s a seat belt or nothing in my car.” Jeno laments, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize where this might be heading. 

“So your car only seats four… and there are six of us…” you say slowly, pulling the lollipop from your lips with a muted wet pop that has Haechan eyeing you like a lion about to corner the slowest gazelle of the herd. Usually, there are seven of you, so even if you had to ride with Haechan, there’d be a third body present in the form of the lovably boisterous Yurin.

Curse Yurin’s midterms, and curse Yurin for sending that text, and curse yourself for leaving your phone where Haechan could see, and curse Haechan for being nosy—

“I’ll ride with Haechan,” Karina offers, noticing the way you become more and more quiet as you sink further into your worries. 

“No, you won’t.” Haechan says, leaning against his passenger door. Everyone looks over at him, and he just pushes off of the door, opening it and pointing directly at you. “Get in.”

“Oh, gosh.” you mumble, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed effect making you feel sluggish or you’re really that apprehensive, but you feel a bit like a puppet with sandbags for shoes, your feet hesitantly shuffling, dragging, scuffling towards Haechan’s passenger door.

“It’s an eight-minute drive,” Yeri calls to you sympathetically, and you nod, shooting her a feeble thumbs up that you don’t even believe. “We’ll see you soon!” 

“Yeah,” you croak, feeling very much like a lamb being led to slaughter, and Haechan smiles sweetly at you, baring all his teeth as you sit in his car. He closes the passenger door and crosses over to the driver’s side, opening the door and getting in. 

When Haechan finishes settling down into the driver’s seat, checking his mirror views and pulling up the GPS to the diner, he straps himself in and looks over at you, eyes scanning your frame for something—you don’t quite know what. Seemingly done with his inspection, he leans closer to you without warning and reaches for the seat belt buckle in your chair, pulling it out and over your body as he clicks it into place. The whole while, he’s invading your personal space, your breath catching in your throat as you realize his face is close enough to yours that you could probably count his lashes if you wanted to.

He turns his head ever so slightly, eyes locking on yours, and you blink rapidly in alarm, rendered immobile as he studies your face.

“You look so cute, all innocent and helpless like this.” he murmurs softly, and the tiniest of squeaks escapes you, his eyes flashing with glee at the sound. “Now stop looking at me like that,” he warns, “or I’ll kiss you.”

You blanch, trying immediately to make any other expression than the one you didn’t even know you were sporting, and he chuckles before sitting back in his seat and starting his car. He turns the air conditioning on—a strange choice, considering it’s a bit nippy outside—and pulls out of his spot, starting to drive towards the diner.

It doesn’t take long for you to get cold, goosebumps gradually appearing on your arms and legs, but you’re a bit too nervous to say anything, instead suffering in silence. You clasp your hands together in your lap, rubbing them together for warmth, and, as he stops at a red light, Haechan looks over at you, watching in fascination as you shift in your seat for any sort of friction that could warm you. After a moment, you notice his eyes fixated pointedly on your chest, and you spare a glance down to see, to your alarm, that your nipples are hard, starting to poke through your clothing, and you curse internally for wearing a thin, lacy bra that does nothing to conceal your stiffened buds.

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking in what seems like satisfaction, before refocusing his attention on the road. You cross your arms over your chest protectively, tucking your fingers into the crooks of your elbows as he drives down the road.

“We’re here,” he announces after some time, pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner and turning the car off. The cold air blowing through the vents shuts off, much to your relief, and you unbuckle your seat belt before he gets the chance, practically flinging yourself out of the car into the significantly less cold night air.

As you all file into the diner, you notice a man staring very pointedly at you and your bare legs and your chest, where your nipples have yet to go down. 

Haechan scans the room, catches sight of the man, and follows his gaze back to where you stand, his jaw clenching.

“Put this on,” Haechan murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and offering it to you. You start to take it, eager for warmth, but pause, looking at him suspiciously.

“Why?”

His gaze flicks over your shoulder at where the man from earlier sits, and understanding dawns on you. “Just—put it on for me?” 

You nod, gratefully accepting the jacket, and Haechan steps closer, draping it over your shoulders and helping you put your arms through the sleeves. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he nods.

“You look cute in my jacket.” he remarks with a small smirk, and your cheeks warm.

“Thank you,” you mumble, and he trails his tongue along his bottom lip before gesturing for you to follow after him with a jerk of his head, a quick peek past him revealing the hostess who’s arrived to take you all to your seats.

When you arrive at the booth, Haechan’s right by you, gesturing for you to go in first. You do so without complaint, preferring the inner seat anyway, but it’s when Haechan slides in next to you that you realize your mistake as he closes you into the booth corner, the main obstacle between you and freedom from, well, him.

As the hostess passes out menus and you all start to look them over, you feel the side of his hand resting against the side of your thigh, making you attempt to shift away from his hand, the touch too intimate for you to handle at the moment.

Somehow, his hand finds its way back against your leg, palm turned up slightly as he lightly grazes his fingertips along your thigh, and you suck in a sharp breath, doing your best to pass it off as a cough when Haechan looks over at you, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I think I’m gonna get the breakfast platter,” Yeri says excitedly. “It comes with pancakes, eggs prepared how you want them, homefries, and your choice of meat.” 

“That sounds so good,” you reply thoughtfully. “I think I want a burger.” 

“Yeah, a burger sounds good,” Haechan agrees, eyes slowly sliding over to study your reaction as he flattens his palm against your leg, slowly sliding it up to caress your upper thigh. Your reaction must be nothing short of rewarding, as you jolt so forcefully that you shake the table slightly, and he chuckles softly.

“You okay, girl?” Karina asks, worried, and you nod, swallowing thickly.

“I just, um…felt a tickle on my ankle. Thought it was a bug or something.” you mumble, and she nods, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.

“I know I said waffles earlier, but I kind of want these barbecue ribs,” Karina says, pointing at an entry on the menu, but you can barely make your gaze focus on where her finger touches the menu because Haechan’s hand is still very much on your thigh, and to make matters worse, you think you like it.

His hand slides up higher, the side of his thumb slipping under the hem of your skirt, and you raise your glass to your lips in an attempt to act natural, hoping and praying no one notices the way your hand is shaking slightly.

Haechan leans in closer to you, murmuring in your ear, “This must be a dream come true for you, huh?” He grips your thigh firmly, not even attempting to play it off as a casual touch anymore, and you barely manage to stifle your yelp of surprise in time. “Must have been wanting this for so long,” he breathes secretively, smiling lips grazing the shell of your ear so subtly, no one else would notice unless they were paying unnaturally close attention.

You, however, do notice. Not only do you notice, but you suck in a sharp breath of surprise, the sudden movement making the water in your cup slosh forward and spill out slightly, a few droplets dripping down your chin.

You suck your teeth in mild irritation, glaring at Haechan as you reach for your napkin, but he’s faster, his free hand coming up and wiping the liquid off of your chin.  

“Um, thanks.” you mumble, and he nods, locking eyes with you as he licks at the pad of his thumb, cleaning off the water droplets with his mouth. “Oh, dear Neptune.” you whisper to yourself, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the moment. “Where is this waitress—I need to eat something.”

“Yeah, we should let her know we’re ready to order,” Mark says, waving a hand out to flag down the waitress. As she approaches, you sneak a peek at Haechan, whose expression is surprisingly calm and neutral given the sensual, slow circles he’s drawing on your upper thigh with his thumb.

Haechan’s hand slips further in between your legs, getting dangerously close to your core, and you decide that’s enough play time for him, clamping your legs together forcefully.

“You trapped my hand, pretty girl,” he points out with a growing grin, and you ignore him even as he continues, “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”

You still don’t give him a response, staring stubbornly out the booth window, and he chuckles before withdrawing his hand from your legs with such ease that you wonder if he was ever really stuck there.

“Oh, we’re doing the silent treatment? Copy that.” he muses, nodding slowly in understanding, and you can’t help but wonder what else he has in store for you.

Today, the energy in the room is entirely different—and you don’t like it one bit.

Haechan won’t even acknowledge you today; his eyes skip over you when he scans the room like you’re not even there, or, worse, he seems to be looking completely through you at times, completely unaffected by your presence.

“Girl, did you piss Haechan off or something?” Yeri whispers to you, and your brows knit together as you shake your head. “He hasn’t made a single move on you all day.”

“I know,” you mutter bitterly.

“Maybe he’s sick,” Karina supplies in an attempt to help, but her words practically fall on deaf ears as you stare burning holes into the side of his face as he laughs at something Mark said.

“I’m about to be sick,” you mumble, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as your somewhat secret crush that used to be obsessed with you treats you like you’re nothing more than a couch cushion.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but when Haechan gets up and heads towards the kitchen. you find yourself standing to follow, mumbling that you’ll be right back to Karina.

Haechan stands with his back to you at the kitchen island, pouring a can of something—it looks like Monster—into a glass, and you take a moment to admire his slender yet lean build, the curve of his shoulders and the perfectly mussed up state of his hair—

“I know you’re there, you know.” he says calmly, and your eyes widen as you immediately attempt to look busy doing anything other than blatantly ogling him. He turns right when you’ve reached for a bag of Ruffles chips and raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You have something you want to say?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly thrown off-guard, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I noticed you staring at me,” is all he says in response, and you blanch, pursing your lips carefully.

“Haechan, are you mad at me?” you ask softly, and he smirks.

“And why do you ask that?”

You fidget with the hem of your skirt nervously, averting your gaze to look at the granite countertop. “Well, you… haven’t talked to me all night.”

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a concerningly long time, prompting you to look up at him and immediately wish you hadn’t. He looks beyond smug, and painfully attractive as he leans in slightly, not close enough to get in your space but close enough to send a thrill down your spine. 

“You were giving me the silent treatment the other day, right?” he reminds you, and you hesitate, realizing you were the cause for his radio silence. “I was just returning the favor.”

“Well, don’t.” you say with a frown, and he raises his eyebrows, amused and surprised.

“Why not? Did you miss me or something?” he teases, and you balk, losing all your nerve as quickly as you’d found it.

“No!” you answer quickly, and he arches an eyebrow skeptically, prompting you to continue, “No, I just—”

“You and I don’t really talk much, anyway,” Haechan muses, leaning his back against the island as he regards you with a cocky glint in his eyes. “So what is it you really miss, hm?”

“Well—” you struggle to find your words, and something softens in Haechan’s gaze, the cocky twinkle now accompanied with a smile bordering dangerously on fondness.

“You miss me messing with you, don’t you?” he asks, and at your lack of response, nods in confirmation. “You miss me touching you?” he questions, dragging out the syllables excruciatingly slowly. He sucks his teeth when you still don’t reply and says, “I know you do. You know you do. Now just admit it.”

“I can’t,” you protest weakly, and he shrugs, raising his hands in surrender.

“You want me to touch you again? Give me what I want.” He sounds dead serious and painfully unwavering on his stance, prompting you to whimper quietly to yourself, too wrapped up in your own nerves to notice the way his eyes darken at the sound of your desperation.

“I want you to touch me.” you mumble shamefully, and his lips quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. 

“Come here; say it again.” he urges, beckoning you closer, and you hesitate, making a challenge flash in his expression before he’s poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek and chuckling. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“I want you,” you say, “to touch me,” you repeat your words from earlier, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.

You can see him crossing the distance between you in your peripheral vision, your insides tensing with anticipation as he gets closer and closer. To your utter disappointment, he continues to walk as if he’s going to pass you, only pausing to tilt his head to the side in a patronizing display of faux sympathy.

“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” he chuckles, not even giving you a chance to respond before he continues his path out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What in the absolute hell did you just get yourself into?

You’re coming back from the bathroom when you quite literally almost run into Haechan in the hallway. 

“Sorry,” you say, stepping to the side to get past, but he steps to the same side. You laugh awkwardly before stepping to the other side, only for him to do the same, his movements far too calculated to be a mistake, and you come to the realization that he’s intentionally blocking your path. “Haechan?” you ask quietly, nervousness creeping into your voice, and he chuckles.

He takes a step towards you, prompting you to take a cautious one backwards, and his smile widens as he advances on you, slowly but surely herding you back towards the bathroom. When your back hits the nearby wall, your eyes widen, and he mocks you, briefly widening his eyes in faux surprise before flicking his brows up suggestively and placing one hand on the wall by your head on the side you could escape from, successfully trapping you in a makeshift corner. 

“You’re so cute, really.” Haechan sighs, smiling fondly at you, but there’s a devious twinkle in his eye as he regards you.

As he closes in on you, your body is alight with nerves and anticipation, and you decide to try again, feebly calling, “...Haechan?”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he quiets you soothingly, reaching up with his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, baby.” As if to prove his point, he presses his knee between your legs, thigh pressing up against your clothed core, and a poorly restrained moan bubbles up in your throat.

“Haechan—” you whine, and he shoots you a smug smile.

“See, baby? I know you want it. You know I want it. That’s why you always wear these tiny fucking skirts whenever you come over,” he states, hand dropping from your face to tug at the hem of your skirt, and you gasp—both at the sudden yanking and the insistent pressing of his thigh against your core. “You like it when I do this. Bet you were waiting for me to slip my hands under your skirt to touch you.”

“Mm-mm,” you protest, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and grinding wantonly in search of relief, is telling another story, Haechan arching a brow skeptically. 

“Mm, no? You don’t like it? But, wait… what was that you said in the kitchen earlier?” he questions, a taunting lilt to his words. “‘I want you to touch me,’” he echoes your earlier request in a poor imitation of your voice. “Well, I’m touching you, baby—don’t you like it?” When your only reply is a small nod, he shakes his head disapprovingly, gaze darkening. “Words.”

“Yes,” you whimper, breath catching in your throat when he rewards you with a firm upwards press of his thigh into your core. Your movements speed up slightly as you feel that familiar tightening sensation in your abdomen, your climax not far ahead.

“Are you gonna cum just like this?” he asks, and there’s a hint of amusement to his words but it’s almost entirely overtaken by the heavy desire in his voice. 

“Mm-hm,” you whine softly, your desperation peaking as your high gets closer and closer. 

“Beg me to let you cum.” he urges, and you’re already so far gone that your shame is all but done away with.

“Please, Haechan, can I cum?” you pant urgently, a slight pleading quality to your words as you feel the beginnings of your climax, pleasure blooming between your legs in a gush of warmth. “Please?” you whimper, and something in him snaps, Haechan lurching forward and cupping your face in his hands to hold you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tracing along your lower lip as you tremble and moan weakly into his mouth. 

When you move to pull away to breathe, he clutches your face more firmly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring at his leisure, all the while ignoring your muffled, plaintive cries for air. 

“Haechan, I can’t breathe,” you rasp out finally, and he lets you go with a shaky inhale and an unmistakable reluctance. 

“You are so goddamn addicting.” he pants, and his hands drop to your hips, resuming the motions you weren’t aware you’d stopped. “Keep going.”

His hands keep guiding your movements, practically dragging you back and forth on his thigh as he kisses you again. This kiss is messier than the last as he sucks on your tongue and pulls back to trail his lips down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point and sucking hard, a gasp escaping you at the pleasurable sensation.

“Mine,” he grunts against your throat, sinking his teeth into a new patch of skin and sucking there, too, without a doubt leaving some form of mark behind. “All fucking mine.” he repeats, clutching your hips tighter and dragging you up his leg and closer to him, lips parting from your neck with a loud, wet pop and connecting with yours eagerly. “Gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”

“Hae—” you barely get the first syllable of his name out before he’s sealing his mouth over yours again, fingers creeping into the kiss to pry your mouth open.

“Open,” he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration. When you oblige, he taps your tongue impatiently until you let it hang out of your mouth, Haechan sucking in a deep breath as he eyes you appreciatively. Without any warning or preamble, Haechan spits directly onto your tongue, and you whimper, voice cracking slightly. “Swallow. I’m gonna do it again.” You swallow his saliva, the extra moisture in your mouth jarring but not unwelcome, and return to your previous pose of your mouth open with your tongue hanging out. 

He grins and leans in again, hovering over your waiting tongue as he drops a long, clear string of saliva from his puckered lips down to your mouth. “Don’t swallow.” He pulls back from you slightly and pushes his middle and ring finger into your mouth, the cool silver of his ring catching your taste buds as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, gliding them against your tongue to collect as much wetness as he can. “Good girl,” he coos, pleased, and you’re embarrassed by the rush of warmth between your legs that appears at the praise. “Need them nice and wet for you.”

Not wasting a minute, he snakes his slick, spit-covered fingers past the band of your underwear and starts to stroke over your folds, digits gliding amongst your arousal with embarrassing ease. 

“You’re a mess down here,” he remarks, eyes alight with glee and something wild, primal as he teases you. “You like me that much? Hm?” He seems not to need an answer as he grins cockily at you, eyes scanning your face intently to drink in your every reaction to his touch, no matter how small. He trails his fingers up, up, up until he’s brushing the underside of your clit, and you jolt, flinching away. 

“Haechan, that’s sensitive—”

“I know, baby,” he coos. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” With the hand not currently in your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours, the back of his hand pressed against the palm of your own, and trails your linked hands down your body to join his other hand in your underwear. “Show me,” he rasps, and you blink at him, too far gone to fully understand exactly what he means. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone—when you think of me.”

Cheeks blazing, you realize you’re in no position to refuse, so you guide his hand into massaging your clit in circles, your abdomen tensing reflexively whenever his fingers graze the sensitive underside of your clit. 

“Talk to me, baby.” he urges gently, and you whine in protest, the fire in your face increasing nearly tenfold. “Wanna hear that pretty voice tell me how you touch your little pussy.”

“I just rub it in circles like this,” you mumble, voice slightly husky with desire, and the shift doesn’t go unnoticed, if the intensifying of Haechan’s gaze means anything. 

“You don’t go inside?” he asks softly, and you shake your head.

“Doesn’t feel good when I do it,” you whimper, and he sucks in air sharply, swearing under his breath as he watches your face twist in pleasure. It’s all too much for you, having his undivided attention on you like this, and you look away, a shudder traveling through your body as another climax approaches.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, and you reluctantly oblige, pleading eyes locking on his as your peak gets closer by the second. “Only look at me.”

“Okay,” you agree, the last syllable coming out like more of a squeak, and he smiles brilliantly, the hand not pleasuring you slipping out of your underwear and lifting your shirt up to reveal your breasts in your thin, lacy light blue bra. Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples through the fabric and starts to suck, tongue swirling around the stiffening bud so wetly that his saliva starts to darken the fabric, the warmth of his spit seeping through the fabric. 

He sucks at your nipples with an almost ferocity, alternating breasts like he can’t get enough of either, and his hand snakes around your back to unclasp your bra, Haechan pushing the garment out of the way as soon as it’s loose and latching onto your nipple with a low groan of satisfaction.

As he flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his fingers stroke you closer and closer to your high until you’re so close you can practically taste the sweet, heady feeling of ecstasy. “Show me what you sound like when you cum, baby.”

“Oh—shit—oh, my God,” you hiss as your eyes screw shut tight, pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm travels through your system. “Feels so good,” you whimper, and he hums in agreement.

“Say my name, baby.”

“Haechan—” you moan wantonly, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.

He doesn’t stop attending to your breasts until he’s certain he’s milked every last second of bliss from your body, alternating between sucking and flicking and swirling his tongue around the buds until you go limp, your body slumping against the wall for support. 

Finally, he pulls his arousal-coated fingers from your underwear, trailing them over your bottom lip before pushing the digits into your mouth to suck. 

You do so with an embarrassing amount of eagerness, and are just as surprised as Haechan when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you whine in protest.

His brows shoot up into his hairline and you feel heat blazing furiously in your cheeks as he regards you with a mix of surprise and an expression that looks close to impressed.

“You like to suck, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod hesitantly. Something flashes in his dark eyes, and he grins. “Wanna suck something bigger?”

Hesitant but undoubtedly excited, you nod, and he wets his lips before setting about unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. 

As he does, you slowly sink to your knees, and when he looks up from his pants to see you kneeling before him, he lets out a loud swear that you fear might blow your cover.

As you stare in awe at his impressive size, you realize you’re less worried about getting caught than you are about having to stop. He watches you watch him with amusement and fascination, but the undercurrent of desire runs strong as he clicks his tongue to get your attention. 

You look up at him, and he licks his lips, exhaling a small puff of air before wrapping a hand around his base.

“This is the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he praises, and you smile, heat rising to your cheeks once more. Lowering himself slightly, he cups your breasts, pressing them together and grunting, “I’m gonna fuck these one day. But now?” he says, releasing them and stroking your chin affectionately. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth.”

“You ever suck someone off, baby?” he asks in a low voice, and you shake your head, making his eyes slide shut in bliss as he squeezes himself harder. “Fuck, I’m your first?”

“Yes,” you mumble shyly, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down slightly to cup your chin with his free hand. 

“Remember when you were sucking that little lollipop the other day?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s kind of like that. Use your tongue, and the wetter it is, the better.”

You nod carefully and sit forward, letting your jaw drop open. 

“Fuck, baby. Tongue out for me?” he grunts, and you oblige, letting your tongue drop out of your mouth and lie flat for him. “So good, baby, just like that,” he encourages, leaning forward and guiding the head of his cock into your mouth. 

It feels strange but not unwelcome, and you suck gently at the head of his cock, more focused on using your tongue to explore the intrusion in your mouth. Based on the way Haechan’s breathing shallows and quickens, you suspect you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he groans, his head tipping back before it snaps back up as he seemingly realizes he’d rather watch you. “Mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”

You can only manage a whimper as you boldly press forward, taking more of his length into your mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his length before tentatively flicking it over the slit in the head of his cock. He groans weakly and, emboldened, you do it again, Haechan letting out a delicious little grunt that spurs you to kick it up another notch.

You start to bob your head, doing your best to alternate between bobbing and licking, and Haechan shudders deeply, his hand releasing the rest of his cock and moving to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair. 

“Just like that—fuck—” he hisses, biting his lip as he watches you suck him off, skill increasing with every movement. When you push forward a bit too suddenly, eager to impress him, you choke briefly on his length, throat constricting slightly as your gag reflex activates slightly. “Oh, shit—”

Despite the slight ache to the back of your throat, you keep sucking, moving forward slower this time to allow your throat time to adjust to his size. When you massage the underside of his tip with your tongue, wet muscle gliding over the ridge of skin, he moans your name and it’s one of the most rewarding sounds you think you’ve ever heard.

“So good,” he pants as you bob your head up and down, and his length twitches in your mouth, giving you a hint that he’s close. “Gonna cum, baby.”

You move your head faster, sucking his length to the best of your ability with all the tricks you just learned, and his fingers grip your hair tightly as he spills into your mouth, his hips sluggishly thrusting forward as he shallowly fucks your mouth. 

“You,” he grunts, helping you to your feet so you’re face to face and kissing you deeply, “are a fast little learner.” His tongue slips between your lips and he explores your mouth eagerly, licking at your tongue and inner cheeks as you whimper, dizzied by the fervor of his kisses. 

“Baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, the urgency in his voice waking you up slightly, “I wanna eat you out. Can I taste you, princess?” When you nod, he grins brilliantly. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He drops to his knees and slides his hands up from your ankles, hands slipping under your skirt to caress your hips. Pulling your underwear off, he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, warm, slender fingers spreading apart your folds to get a better look at you.

When you whine softly in embarrassment, he shushes you gently, murmuring, “I just want to admire you for a second, baby, please?” He ducks his head under your skirt and sucks in a sharp breath when he’s met with the sight of your core, folds glistening with your arousal. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he breathes in awe, and before you can reply, his mouth is on you, upper lip resting just above your clit as his tongue strokes along your folds indulgently.

“Oh, my God,” you whisper, stumbling back slightly to lean against the wall behind you. Haechan moves with you fluidly, massaging your clit with his tongue as his fingers clutch your thighs, kneading the flesh with greedy, rough movements.

Tongue moving downwards towards your entrance, he prods the tip of it against your hole, chuckling when you jolt and squirm under his actions. “Don’t be shy, baby, I just want to taste.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and he must be able to tell, because his tongue pushes forward, slowly breaching your entrance. You suck in a loud breath as his tongue delves further into you, occasionally coming out to slurp up the arousal dripping from your hole. 

“Tastes so good, baby,” he moans, his nose rubbing against your clit as he slowly starts to move his tongue in and out inside of you. The feeling is strange but amazing, a slightly ticklish element to the pleasure you’re receiving as he tongue-fucks you. 

Slurping loudly and moaning even louder, Haechan loses himself in your core, alternating between tongue-fucking you and licking at your folds and clit, leaving sloppy wet kisses that make your mind spin.

“Yeah, you like that?” he grunts, sucking at your clit hard before slipping his tongue out to stroke the sensitive underside of the sensitive bud. “You like when I kiss your pretty pussy? Hm? Do you like it when I make out with your sweet little pussy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, fingers clutching at his head over your skirt. When you get a good grip on him, you start to pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.

“Always so good—so shy and innocent.” Haechan murmurs, words slightly muffled from his oral ministrations on your pussy. “Now look at you; look how bad you’re being.”

“Haechan, please,” you breathe, and he turns his head to suck at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving a mark or two in his wake.

“Wanna see just how bad I can make you be.” he coos before surging forward to lap at your core eagerly, losing himself once more in the taste of you. “Fucking delicious, baby, you taste so good for me.”

He sucks and licks and kisses—even nibbles a bit—until your legs are shaking and your grip on his hair is iron-clad. You briefly consider the extremely compromising position someone might find you in if one of your friends walked down the hall and are surprised to find that not only do you not care, but there’s even a smidge of excitement when you think about getting caught like this, with Haechan’s head under your skirt and your breasts exposed.

“Haechan, I’m—I think I’m gonna—” you pant out, and he nods fervently, tongue slipping out of your entrance to flick your clit back and forth rapidly, a sharp whine slipping from you.

“Cum for me, baby—cum all on my tongue.” he urges, pulling you closer as he feverishly laps at your clit and entrance, shaking his head from side to side rapidly to run his tongue along your core back and forth. “That’s it, pretty girl, just let go.” he purrs, coaxing your climax out of you, and you do just that, letting the coil wound tight in your abdomen snap and letting the pleasure flood through your body.

“Haechan—” you whimper, and he hums soothingly as his tongue massages your clit once more, thoroughly milking your orgasm for all its worth. When the trembling of your legs has calmed down slightly and you’ve started to breathe normally once more, he pops his head out from under your skirt and winks up at you, chin and lips covered in your arousal.

“You’re addicting, baby; could eat your pussy for hours.” he says as he rises to his feet. A look downwards grants you the sight of his erection, fully hard once more, and you swallow thickly before looking up at him only to see that he’s already watching you with a small grin on his face. “Think you can handle one more?”

You’re nodding before you even realize it, and Haechan beams at you, drawing closer and closer until you’re flat against the wall. 

Nudging your legs apart, he settles between them and aligns his tip with your entrance, looking up from where your bodies meet to your face.

“Ready, baby?” he asks, and you nod carefully, eyes drifting back down from his face to where the thick head of his length presses against your core. “Good girl,” he breathes before pushing into you slowly, covering your mouth with his palm as you gasp out loudly. “Baby, they’ll catch us if you keep making noise like that.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, but it’s a muffled apology given that Haechan’s hand is still firmly clasped over your mouth. “So full,” you whisper in awe, and he chuckles lowly in your ear, lips pressing to the spot just behind your lobe. 

“Feel so tight around me, baby,” he grunts, his labored breathing in your ear telling you that he’s just as affected as you are. “So fucking good—”

“Haechan, move,” you whisper urgently as he bottoms out in you, and he obliges, pulling out to the tip and pushing into you again. A loud whoosh of air escapes your lungs, and he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, making you let out a loud whimper that would have been much louder had Haechan’s hand not muffled it.

“I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Haechan murmurs with a smile on his lips as he kisses along your jaw and moves his hand to kiss you. 

“Mm—! No, I don’t—” you insist through your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a taunting grin.

“Yes, you do,” he teases. “You want all our friends to come in this hallway and see me fucking you like the perfect little fuckdoll I always knew you could be.”

“Hae–chan—” you stutter, tiny noises leaving you with every powerful thrust of his hips. He’s so good, so big and thick, and he’s filling you up just right and hitting all the right places, and it becomes too much very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushing through your body as he fucks into you. If it couldn’t get worse for you, he reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick circles just like you showed him earlier. “Fuck—stop—too much—”

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” he coos, shifting himself to angle his hips into you just right so that every snap of his hips sends his tip fucking directly into your g-spot. 

You feel warmth behind your eyes, the telltale pricking at the corners that you know all too well, and the first tear drops before you can wipe it away, another tear following after that as the pleasure all but consumes you.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry, it feels good,” he consoles you, reaching up with his free hand to wipe your tears away. 

“So good—too good—” you babble, and he laughs at that, brows furrowing at the end as you clench around him.

“It can’t be too good, baby—you’re not making sense anymore.” he says with a playful lilt, and you whimper, more tears falling as you sniffle pathetically. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“Wanna cum—Haechan, please let me cum—” you beg, and his movements stutter, Haechan looking at you in surprise.

“Yeah? Baby wants to cum?” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your walls flex around him again. “Fuck, I love when you do that—feels so good—cum for me, baby.” 

Not needing to be told twice, you promptly fall apart around him with a messy string of swears and “please” and utterances of Haechan’s name as your nails dig into his forearm, making him wince slightly. You’re sure you look a mess, eyes wet and glossy as tears stream down your cheeks, but Haechan’s drinking in your appearance like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Baby—I’m close—fuck—” Haechan grunts. “Gonna cum—where do you want it?”

“Want it inside of me, please—” you croak weakly, and he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a smug chuckle and a moan.

“Can’t believe you were skittish as a mouse just the other day, and now you’re begging for my cum. Want me to fill you up?” he pants, hips driving into yours with reckless abandon. 

“Please—” you whimper, and he swears under his breath.

“Fuck—take it all, baby,” he urges, hips pressing into yours as he buries himself in you and empties his load. “It’s all for you,” he says breathlessly as his length twitches inside of you.

He stays inside of you for a moment, both of you attempting to catch your breath, before he slowly pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your skirt back into place. To your confusion, he hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling the thin, arousal-soaked fabric down and off your legs. 

“Um…” you start, and Haechan looks over at you, brows raised expectantly. “Those are mine,” you state, pointing at the fabric in his fist.

“And now,” he hums, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply, eyes sliding shut in bliss just in time to miss your scandalized expression. “They’re mine. C’mon; you should use the bathroom.”

He loops his fingers around yours, other hand stuffing your underwear in his back pocket as he leads you to the bathroom.

When the door closes behind you, you sit down on the toilet with slightly shaky legs, taking a moment to think about everything that just occurred. 

You would have never in a million years thought that you’d have sex with Haechan, let alone in the hallway—let alone, with your friends in the very next room. However, as you think over the events that just transpired, your body is filled with a warm thrum of satisfaction, and you can’t seem to find an ounce of regret. 

“Girl, where the hell were you?!” Karina exclaims, fussing over you as soon as you reappear in the living room. “We’ve been texting and calling for ages!”

“Oh,” you mumble, pulling your phone from the little pocket in your skirt. “It’s been on Do Not Disturb,” you explain sheepishly, and Karina rolls her eyes hard.

“Don’t do that again. You had us worried sick. What were you even doing for so long?”

“Um… well, Haechan and I,” you start, casting a side glance to the couch where Haechan sits and hesitating slightly when you see that he’s watching you intently, not an ounce of shame in his expression. “We hooked up.” you say finally, straightening your back slightly and standing up taller.

Yeri’s jaw drops. “About damn time.” she remarks, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“Hush, you.” you huff, looking over at where Haechan sits once more. He locks eyes with you and grins, patting the empty spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and you smile, looking away from him to address your bewildered friends. “I’ll explain everything later—”

“Yeah, yeah, just go, girl.” Karina chuckles. “He’s waiting,” she sing-songs, and you elbow her slightly before shooting them a bright smile and a small wave and making your way to sit next to Haechan. 

When you sit down, Haechan drapes his arm around you on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks.

“So,” he says carefully, taking a hit of his pen and exhaling slowly before he continues, “I know this is a little backwards of me, but… do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”

“I’d like that,” you reply with a bashful smile, and he grins, relieved.

“Great. Now in the meantime,” he says, looking pointedly towards the hallway before looking back at you expectantly, “I have a nice ass TV, snacks, and a strong ass edible with your name on it in my room. You down?”

You don’t even hesitate. “I’m down.” you agree, smile widening, and he nods, satisfied. He stands from the couch and offers you his hand, which you take as he pulls you to your feet.

As you trail after him towards his room, fingers still locked with his, you can’t help but notice the familiar peek of fabric sticking out of his back pocket, and your eyes widen in alarm.

“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, and he looks back at you with raised brows. “My, um, underwear is sticking out of your pocket.”

“So?” he answers simply, and you pause, brain buffering for a moment.

“So?”

“Yeah. No one knows it’s your underwear but you and me,” he points out as you reach his bedroom door. He swings it open and gestures for you to enter first, head dipping down to your ear as you pass by. “So it’s our little secret.”

“Oh,” you mumble, thinking it over. “Okay.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says encouragingly, guiding you to his bed and gesturing for you to sit down. “Now, what do you want to watch?”

“Uh, we can watch Family Guy,” you suggest, and he looks at you, pleasant surprise written on his handsome features, before he nods and picks up the TV remote.

“Good choice,” he praises, sitting down beside you against the headboard of his bed. “Perfect show to play in the background while we make out.”

“Oh—” you stammer, blinking in surprise, and he snorts, eyes fond as he scans your bashful demeanor.

“I’m kidding.” he assures you, and you can’t help but frown slightly. Unfortunately for you, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, and he chuckles. “You wanted to make out, didn’t you?”

“A little bit,” you mumble, and he grins, leaning in closer to you.

“That can be arranged.” he murmurs, still smiling as his lips meet yours.

[rockposerdotcom]

Ron Coolen's New Single 'Shake Me To The Floor' Now Streaming On All Major Platforms

Ron Coolen has announced that his new single ‘Shake Me To The Floor’ is streaming on all major platforms. The song is co-written with singer Keith St John and features guest guitarist Joey Concepcion. ‘Shake Me To The Floor’ is a heartfelt tribute to the legendary Eddie Van Halen, an iconic legend who has inspired countless rock musicians. Says Ron “Both Keith and I poured our mutual fascination…

[josh0555]

This is the 2004 Summer Station ID of GMA. The Summer Station ID was themed “Kapuso Summer Magic”

The Summer Station ID Theme Song is a Samba Remix and is performed by Apo Hiking Society and produced by Filipino singer, songwriter, dancer, record producer, DJ, conductor, television host, actor, comedian and businessman Willie Revillame.

The Summer Station ID contains Pepe Pimentel, Rodolfo “Dolphy” Quizon, Ryan Agoncillo, Vhong Navarro, Teddy Corpuz, Billy Crawford, Sarah Geronimo, Derek Ramsay, Aga Muhlach, AiAi delas Alas, Cherry Pie Picache, Richard Gomez with his wife Lucy Torres-Gomez, AJ Perez, Halina Perez, Amy Perez, Neil Perez, John Prats, Zanjoe Marudo, Eric dela Cruz, Terence Baylon, Carla Abellana, Bianca Umali, Julia Montes, Roxanne Guinoo, Rufa Mae Quinto, Richard Gutierrez, Raymond Gutierrez, Tonton Gutierrez, Ruffa Gutierrez, Maricel Soriano, Aiko Melendez, Jodi Sta. Maria, Richard Yap, Arcee Muñoz, Ritz Azul, Alice Dixson, Tuesday Vargas, Eula Caballero, Cherie Gil, Bayani Agbayani, Raymond Bagatsing, Mel Martinez, Bea Alonzo, Maja Salvador, Carlos Agassi, Epy Quizon, Coco Martin, Nonie Buencamino, JM de Guzman, Empoy Marquez, Ahron Villena, Eric Quizon, Fernando Poe Jr., Susan Roces, Sam Milby, Paolo Ballesteros, Oyo Boy Sotto, IC Mendoza, John Lloyd Cruz, Andi Eigenmann, Piolo Pascual, Janno Gibbs, Amelyn Veloso, Cheryl Cosim, Karen Davila, Rene Hawkins, Jessica Soho, Mike Enriquez, Henry Omaga-Diaz, Anthony Taberna, Erwin Tulfo, Junell Hernando, Jose Manalo, Wally Bayola, Mr. Fu, Rico Barrero, Tom Rodriguez, Hayden Kho, Ogie Diaz, Camille Prats, Jennylyn Mercado, Paolo Serrano, Pia Guanio, Angel Aquino, Mel Tiangco, Mariz Umali, Kara David, Ces Oreña-Drilon, Willie Revillame, Geoff Eigenmann, Gabby Eigenmann, Leandro Muñoz, Mark Lapid, Eula Valdez, Judy Ann Santos, Albert Martinez, Sharon Cuneta, Joseph Bitangcol, Eric Fructuoso, Paolo Contis, Justin Cuyugan, Wendell Ramos, Heart Evangelista, Erich Gonzales, Dimples Romana, EJ Falcon, RK Bagatsing, Arjo Atayde, Jerald Napoles, Albie Casiño, Janine Gutierrez, Martin Nievera, Edu Manzano, Jericho Rosales, Hero Angeles, Patrick Garcia, Michael Roy Jornales, Edwin San Juan, Mark Gil, Christopher de Leon, Michael de Mesa, Candy Pangilinan, Ina Raymundo, Dina Bonnevie featuring the future ABC-5 actors Angelica Panganiban, Alex Gonzaga, Cristine Reyes, Andrea Torres, Valerie Concepcion, Rhian Ramos, Angel Locsin, Ellen Adarna, Shaina Magdayao, Heaven Peralejo, Jessie Mendiola, Ivana Alawi, Coleen Garcia, Paulo Avelino, Enzo Pineda, Marco Gumabao, Dion Ignacio, Jason Abalos, Ivan Dorschner, Enrico Cuenca, Derrick Monasterio, Aljur Abrenica, James Reid, Nadine Lustre, Diego Loyzaga, Barbie Imperial, Royce Cabrera, Johan Santos, Ion Perez, Joseph Marco, RJ Padilla and the other Filipino people.

The Summer Station ID includes boy bands NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, Boyzone, Westlife and the Fast and the Furious actors like Adam Sandler as Brian O’Connor, Ciara Hanna as Letty Ortiz and Neve Campbell as Mia Toretto featuring Queen Elizabeth II.

This is the only Summer Station ID to feature the crew of ABC-5 as guests but Valerie Concepcion, Ogie Diaz, Neil Perez, Wendell Ramos, Albie Casiño, Angel Aquino, Michael Roy Jornales, John Prats, Zanjoe Marudo, Eric dela Cruz and Terence Baylon will become the new GMA crew members in 2005. But other actors like Eula Valdez, Rico Barrero, Tom Rodriguez, Hayden Kho, Carla Abellana, Bianca Umali, Camille Prats and Jennylyn Mercado will become the future ABS-CBN actors. Somehow, The future actors will become the new TV5 crew members during the rebranding of the network in May 5, 2005. But Mariz Umali was seen as a guest since she moved to ABS-CBN in 2000. Eventually, Mel Tiangco, Kara David, Ces Oreña-Drilon were seen as guests before they transferred to GMA but Kara David will transfer to ABS-CBN in 2005 and Ces Oreña-Drilon will transfer to GMA in 2005. Sadly, Mel Tiangco will stay at ABC-5 which is now known as TV5 in 2005 because she will move to GMA in 2010.

This was also the last Summer Station ID of GMA to feature Halina Perez before her death in April 9, 2005. But Tyron Perez died in September 11, 2002 which was a year after the 9/11 attack.

But this was also the first Summer Station ID of GMA to be in a 16:9 widescreen format.

This is also the only Summer Station ID of GMA to be produced by DJ Willie Revillame. But in the future, Willie Revillame will be producing ABC-5 songs in 2005 which will be re-branded into TV5 in May 5, 2005.

[elgordito305]

Shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first 10 songs, then tag 10 friends! tagged by @xjvnellee66

I tag @ohgen @xoqueondaperdidaxo @lasant4 @ravingrackoon @kenyiss @potheadwithacause @mindlesscasualties

[wingingitonwheels]

Monday 11th November: Tome

It’s only two days that have passed since I last wrote, and whilst sitting on a bike and simply pedalling seems such a basic and functional existence, it feels like I’ve had a month’s worth of experience despite geographically having not made much progress south. Avoiding Ruta 5 is proving to take me on the path less trodden and although I’ve only one degree south since Saturday, and overall just 2 degrees south, each day has delivered new vistas, different cultures and daylight hours are accelerating so fast, I wake up confused each morning as to whether I’ve slept too long or not. It’s getting colder and I’m starting to need my jacket both in the morning and descending. It is still spring here and I’ve got hay fever for the first time whilst abroad! In just 5 days, the temperature has moved from oppressive to pleasant, and just 3 days ago, it seemed I’d found Chile’s tranquility. Followed by its wine region, which leaked into Chilean Wales and finally to the Pacific town of Tomé, a busy seaside town north of Concepcion.

My rear tyre will likely need replacing by Puerto Montt and yesterday as I slogged up my fifteenth hill of the day, whilst cursing my mobile home for the twentieth time, I considered that like my tyre, I might arrive in Puerto Montt too tired to enjoy the reason I came. I worked through how I could get there and miss the rest of Chile. Plane (cheap but need a box), bus (three legs - fine if you don’t have a bike) or hire a car. All very reasonable ideas and possible from Concepcion. However the weather in Puerto Montt (the reason I didn’t fly directly there as initially planned) is still poor for another ten days. The reality is that my long held dream could be a damp Squibb by rushing. And whilst I’d love to make the most of my camping gear, as I cross Chile, tired and dirty at the end of each day, given the choice of an average hotel at a reasonable price or a tent where now the nights are cold, it’s an easy decision to opt for comfort. It is a real dilemma though.

I’ve figured out that if I convert a mile for a kilometre (kilometres measure distance here), I’ve found my formula for calculating how long it will take me to get from point to point. In the olden days, when I used to have a fast bike and legs, and carried very little, I’d roughly cover on a good day, twenty miles in an hour. Now I cover twenty kilometres on average in an hour. On a good day that could average twenty-three, but it makes me feel better to think as kilometres as miles so I’m not so disheartened at the slow pace I’m moving. But now with ten days or so until it’s worth getting to Puerto Montt, I may as well make my days shorter for the 785 kilometres remaining until the planned journey might commence 😬. In terms of the UK, that’s roughly John O Groats to Kendal or going north, Land’s End to just north of Lancaster. So today I’ll pass the midway point to Puerto Montt! Woohoo!

Saturday 9th November

Having arrived the night before to Eliana’s little cabin, sun baked and frazzled, I took my time getting going. After saying goodbye to Bongo, I put on my music and hit the road, feeling much better for a later start and allowing myself a shorter day of just thirty miles if I chose, which would take me to Cauquenes for around lunchtime. Not long into the ride, my rear wheel juddered weirdly, as though the wheel was misaligned. It was disturbing but I figured I must have ridden over a rumbly bit of road and got over it. About ten minutes later, I looked back at my rear hub and noticed the tool Allen key bolt still attached to the skewer (this is a tiny slot in key rather than a full length key for clarity) from when I changed my tyre. Doh! Stopping to take it off, I noticed my pannier wasn’t securely shut, so scalded myself and tightened it and continued. The hills seemed like less work than other days, I felt lighter and happy, singing loudly to Sophie B Hawkins Right Beside me and Randy Newman’s One day I’ll Fly Away. She has to be one of the most emotional singers in history. It was Almaz that helped me write my best ever English essay, a story which was really quite sad of a lonely boy living in probably Colorado (where at the time I’d never been, who walked up high into the Aspen forest, lamenting the world whilst taking in its beauty as birds soared overhead whilst he perched on a ledge). After returning tot the real world from my deep and distant thoughts, it immediately occurred that I felt lighter. Perhaps not fitter? At exactly seventeen miles and at the top of a climb, I stopped and checked…had something fallen from my loose pannier? Frantic checking followed and lo and behold, my telephoto lens was gone, a gift, the single most heavy piece of equipment and the thing that nearly didn’t come. I held back tears and considered what had happened. I expected the juddering was the lens falling out of the pannier and being caught in the back wheel before it was spat out and exploded on the road behind me. And of course as I was listening to music, I didn’t hear it drop. Disaster. Was there any point at riding back a likely fifteen miles to see it obliterated? I had to. I couldn’t go on not knowing. And perhaps I might be lucky. There was a hard shoulder all the way and if it wasn’t broken it was unlikely someone would stop at exactly that point. With a very heavy heart, I turned back.

There was no question of it appearing in the first thirteen miles that I retraced. Any fatigue was replaced with adrenaline. Whilst I acknowledged the positive beeps from the friendly and supportive motorists, I was laser focused, riding the wrong way on the hard shoulder. As I got closer to the judder point, my eyes traced every contour, every gutter. Nothing. With two miles to go till I was back at the start, I decided there was no harm in simply asking my hosts if anyone had found a lens. I waited by the gates as Bongo and Max bolted towards me, followed by Elish…cuddling my lens like a baby. I could have kissed him! Tired Chell makes mistakes. Chell was VERY tired that morning!

All’s well that ends well. Lunch of Chicken leg was consumed at the roadside cafe where I started the day and four hours after initially starting the day, I started again, a little heavier, but happy. Dumb ass 🙄. And although a complete pain in the ass of a day, look at the beauty I saw alive at the side of the road? A Chilean Rose Tarantula. Incredibly stunning…

I’m a day behind but there’s too much to say about my next night and day for now, so reader (assuming there’s still a few), you’ll have to wait. 😄. Adios!

[vxxdinve]

🖤🖤🖤

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 6.17

Beer Birthdays

Frank Shlaudeman (1862)

Ed Stoudt (1940)

Colin Kaminski (1965)

Hop Caen (1991)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Christy Canyon; adult actress (1966)

M.C. Escher; Dutch artist (1898)

Charles Gounod; French composer (1818)

Greg Kinnear; actor (1963)

Igor Stravinsky; Russian composer (1882)

Famous Birthdays

George Akerlof; economist (1940)

David "Stringbean" Akeman; banjo player, actor (1915)

Bobby Bell; Kansas City Chiefs LB (1940)

Ralph Bellamy; actor (1904)

Jello Biafra; rock singer (1958)

Brigitte Bond; French-Maltese singer & dancer (1964)

Kingman Brewster Jr.; educator (1919)

Thomas Haden Church; actor (1960)

Bud Collins; tennis player, television sportscaster (1929)

Dave Concepcion; Cincinnati Reds SS (1948)

Charles Eames; designer, architect (1907)

Sammy Fain; songwriter (1902)

Bobby Farrelly; film director (1958)

Red Foley; country singer (1910)

Will Forte; comedian, actor (1970)

Newt Gingrich; politician, history teacher, windbag (1943)

John Robert Gregg; inventor (1867)

John Hersey; writer (1914)

Elroy "Crazy Legs" Hirsch; Los Angeles Rams RB/WR (1923)

William Hooper; signer of the Declaration of Independence (1742)

Chloe Jones; model, porn actor (1975)

John Kay; English inventor (1704)

Mark Linn-Baker; actor (1954)

Edward Longshanks; Edward I, King of England (1239)

Barry Manilow; pop singer, songwriter (1946)

Bob Mauger; pinball wizard (1960)

Eddy Merckx; Belgian cyclist (1945)

Jason Patric; actor (1966)

Joe Piscopo; comedian, actor (1951)

Chris Spedding; rock guitarist (1944)

Starhawk; writer, activist (1951)

Ruth Graves Wakefield; cook, invented chocolate chip cookie (1903)

Tori Welles; adult actress (1967)

Venus Williams; tennis player (1980)

[cristoreysol]

Empiezo el día recordando el ULTIMO MINUTO de CERATI en un ESCENARIO en su gira FUERZA NATURAL (y su última foto posterior dándole a continuación el ACV en CARACAS siendo trasladado a la clínica LA TRINIDAD de donde por cierto..tuvo que ser DERIVADO unas horas al irse LA LUZ=Nombre de clínica en Madrid donde murió Enrique MORENTE autor de LP OMEGA=FIN..culpando la familia a la eminencia del Dr Enrique MORENO que le puso un hígado a RAPHAEL cuya última gira fue VICTORIA y donde rehízo fantasticamente a mi madre una mala operación de una hernia de hiato conociendo mi padre al anestesista desde la infancia por lo que no le cobro su MILLON de PTS en año 2000 y estando yo toda la semana en la clínica LA LUZ por lo que me cruce a PITITA RIDRUEJO de la que sacaron el titular A MUCHA GENTE NO LE CONVIENE QUE LLEGUE EL APOCALIPSIS..aunque yo creo que le conviene al 99% y sin olvidar que este MUNDO OSCURO o INFIERNO va por muy mal camino).

Una FUERZA NATURAL que se puede DESATAR de MIL FORMAS o en MIL SITIOS como es con un CALOR O SOL EXTREMO..por lo que recuerdo que ayer fotografié junto a plaza CASTILLA o las TORRES inclinadas KIO (compensacion de los JEQUES de KWAIT a JUANCARLOS I por la participación de ESPAÑA en la GUERRA de KWAIT en cuyo barco NUMANCIA=Resistencia a ROMA..canto la nochebuena de 1991 Marta SANCHEZ [cuya hermana MELLIZA "PAZ" murió de CANCER con 37 años] con OLE OLE Soldados del AMOR [siendo enfocado un tal DAVID TORNOS FARRELI que fundó con su PADRE Gonzalo Tornos Cafranga GLORY CARS de COCHES DE EPOCA tras ser socio y amigo de mi ex_vecino JOSE MANUEL ALMARCHA ALCOLEA ..y al que le tocó el coche que sorteo entre los MARINEROS DE REEMPLAZO la revista de POLITICA y SOCIEDAD así como de DESNUDOS de FAMOSAS "INTERVIU" del grupo ZETA que fundó el malogrado con 53 años por tumor cerebral Antonio ASENSIO y amigo de JUANCARLOS I.. en un local de la IGLESIA en BARCELONA como la revista TIEMPO o el PERIODICO DE CATALUNYA..y el cual REVENTO los derechos televisivos del FUTBOL con el PACTO de NOCHEBUENA]..desnudandose por una millonada a continuación MARTA SANCHEZ en INTERVIU, dejando a su novio BATERIA el malogrado JUAN TARADO digo TARODO que la dio la OPORTUNIDAD para lanzarse con el cd MUJER y salir con el batería de DURAN DURAN stearling CAMPBELL que entro en SOUL ASYLUM en el cd GRAVE DANCERS UNION publicando posteriormente cd CHANGE OF FORTUNE y participando en cd FUERZA NATURAL de CERATI)).. donde rodaron el final de EL DIA DE LA BESTIA de ALEX DE LA IGLESIA (donde el CURA EXORCISTA lo interpretó ALEX ANGULO que se mató de un brutal accidente cuando rodaba BENDITA CALAMIDAD en LA RIOJA capital LOGRo+cOÑO=Lo que se consigue con la VAGINA o el poder del SEXO FEMENINO=PECADO ORIGINAL..de igual forma que se mató en LA RIOJA o en ALFARO el cantante de PARALISIS PERMANENTE que sólo publicó cd EL ACTO por el sexual con un crucificado en portada y el single QUIERO SER SANTA o una burla a las martirizadas y reprimidas católicas asi como donde VARRY BRAVA grabó el video de SATANICA en el CONVENTO de LA INMACULADA CONCEPCION ..y el cual o ALEX ANGULO acababa de grabar una locución sobre una TORMENTA titulada CRUCE DE CAMINOS del cd ROOM 13: A BLUE TALE de jimmy BARNATAN o el niño endemoniado de EL DIA DE LA BESTIA en cuyo cd incluyo versión de JOHN THE REVELATOR como hizo en su siguiente cd MOTORCLUB junto al cantante de M CLAN autores de cd PARA NO VER EL FINAL y en el que canta THE GANGSTER THAT YOU NEED con VIRGINIA MAESTRO con la que hizo conciertos para luego publicar el cd BOURBON CHURCH= o la IGLESIA DEL BORBON FRANCES que es la CATOLICA O SATANICA APOCALIPTICA))..un BUS con un anuncio del BETIS [=estadio HELIOPOLIS=ciudad del SOL y ciudad deportiva LUIS DEL SOL]..de CLIMATIZADORES y cuyo bus fotografié en CONDUIT ST o frente al hotel WEST_BURY (Occidente_enterrar) tras jugar ese 6/8/11 en el estadio LIBERTY de SWANSEA

[lianlaspinas]

Tracking down ex Bench endorsers and models: Where are they now?

In 2012, just in time for the celebration of the clothing line's 25th anniversary, a denim and underwear fashion show entitled "Bench: Universe" was held at the Mall of Asia Arena last September 13 and 14 Celebrities are not attend the event:

Precious Adona

Asia Agcaoili Carlene Aguilar Marco Alcaraz Alvin Alfonso Gerald Anderson Nico Antonio Jon Avila Phoemela Baranda Hermes Bautista Kris Bernal James Blanco Albie Casiño Nancy Castiglione David Chua Bugz Daigo Janvier Daily Franco Daza Alessandra de Rossi JC de Vera Jenine Desiderio Wilma Doesent Robi Domingo Lalaine Edson-Forgham Ryan Eigenmann John Estrada Ejay Falcon Frencheska Farr Sarah Geronimo Rachelle Anne Go Katrina Halili Jon Hall Kristine Hermosa-Sotto Agot Isidro Brent Javier Luke Jickain Tibo Jumalon Bianca King Doug Kramer Maureen Larrazabal Mikee Lee Xian Lim Ehra Madrigal Michelle Madrigal Rissa Mananquil-Trillo Robby Mananquil Alicia Mayer Zanjoe Marudo Priscilla Merielles Don Mendoza Sam Milby Carlos Morales Ron Morales Iwa Moto Marc Nelson Kristine Nieto Angelica Panganiban Bubbles Paraiso Rica Peralejo-Bonifacio Sam Pinto Cassandra Ponti John Prats Francine Prieto Bruce Quebral Dex Quindoza Rufa Mae Quinto Wendell Ramos Tom Rodriguez Rafael Rosell Johan Santos Jiro Shirakawa Victor Silayan Jay-R Siliona John James Uy Iya Villania Valerie Weigmann AJ Winkler Jomari Yllana Kevin Zaldariagga Kerbie Zamora

To recall, Robi Domingo is no longer a endorser of this clothing line. This is the truth about him that he did not miss any BENCH and BENCH/Body campaign and denim and underwear shows. Sources to newspapers and tabloids when the former Pinoy Big Brother: Teen Edition Plus runner up and Ateneo de Manila University graduate is no longer renewing his contract with Bench.

Robi was also took part in "Uncut: A Bold Look at the Future" Denim and Underwear Show when he tore his sando in the Furne One's Far East segment.

A Twitter user who said "Nakakatawa yung ginawa ni Robi Domingo sa Bench Uncut."

The loveteam of Kim Chiu and Gerald Anderson, wearing elaborate costumes, closed the segment.

Other celebrities and models such as Precious Adona, Asia Agcaoili, Carlene Aguilar, Marco Alcaraz, Alvin Alfonso, Gerald Anderson, Nico Antonio, Antonio Aquitania, Lana Asanin, Jon Avila, Phoemela Baranda, Benj Basa, Hermes Bautista, James Blanco, Kris Bernal, Chad Burden, Gian Carlos, Albie Casiño, Nancy Castiglione, Rainier Castillo, David Chua, Carlos Concepcion, Geneva Cruz, John Lloyd Cruz, Rodjun Cruz, Bugz Daigo, Janvier Daily, Franco Daza, Alessandra de Rossi, JC de Vera, AJ Dee, Jenine Desiderio, Wilma Doesnt, Robi Domingo, Lalaine Edson-Forgham, Ryan Eigenmann, John Estrada, Ejay Falcon, Frencheska Farr, Eric Fructuoso, Tanya Garcia-Lapid, Sarah Geronimo, Rachelle Ann Go, Edgar Allan Guzman, Katrina Halili, Jon Hall, Kristine Hermosa-Sotto, Agot Isidro, Brent Javier, Luke Jickain, Tibo Jumalon, Kian Kazemi, Bianca King, Doug Kramer, Maureen Larrazabal, Mikee Lee, Xian Lim, Ehra Madrigal, Michelle Madrigal, Rissa Mananquil-Trillo, Robby Mananquil, Zanjoe Marudo, Alicia Mayer, Priscilla Meirelles-Estrada, Don Mendoza, Sam Milby, Carlos Morales, Ron Morales, Iwa Moto, Marc Nelson, Kristine Nieto, Juliana Palermo, Angelica Panganiban, Bubbles Paraiso, Rica Peralejo-Bonifacio, Tyrone Perez, Sam Pinto, Cassandra Ponti, Camille Prats, John Prats, Francine Prieto, Bruce Quebral, Dex Quindoza, Rufa Mae Quinto, Wendell Ramos, Iago Raterta, Keanna Reeves, Tom Rodriguez, Rafael Rosell, Johan Santos, Kenji Shirakawa, Victor Silayan, Jay-R Siliona, Prince Stefan, Benjamin Tang, Geoff Taylor, John James Uy, Nicole Uysiuseng, Alfred Vargas, Iya Villania, Corey Wills, Maggie Wilson, Valerie Weigmann, AJ Winkler, Jomari Yllana, Kevin Zaldarriaga and Kerbie Zamora are almost absent during the event.

The Philippines' biggest entertainment production is set to wow audiences in the country and throughout Southeast Asia when Bench Universe 2012 premieres on December 8 at 9:00 p.m. on StarWorld.

StarWorld is seen on Sky Cable channel 48 or channel 172 on HD, Cignal channel 50 or channel 100 on HD, Cable Link channel 28 or channel 310 on HD, Dream channel 16, and almost 400 cable operators nationwide.

Also available on YouTube is the full shows of Bench Uncut: A Bold Look at the Future (2010 Denim and Underwear Show) held last July 2, 2010 at the Araneta Coliseum and aired last October 24, 2010 on Sunday's Best, ABS-CBN, Bench The Naked Truth (2014 Denim and Underwear Show) held last September 20, 2014 at the Mall of Asia Arena and aired on November 16, 2014 on Sunday's Best, ABS-CBN and Bench Under the Stars: 30th Anniversary Denim and Underwear Show held last November 18, 2017 at the Mall of Asia Arena and aired from June 1 to 30, 2018 on Cignal Pay-per-View.

[domjaehyun]

under the influence (l.dh) — TEASER

PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.1k in the fic, 907 in the teaser WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon, pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ here’s a preview of Under the Influence 😁 the full fic will hopefully be up by October 7th on my Patreon, but if you’re not subscribed to me there, then it’ll be out on here on October 23rd :) enjoy!

“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.

He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.

“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 

“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.

you [18:11pm] SOS you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?

You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 

Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 

Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.

yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁 karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass?? yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.

Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.

“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 

“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”

“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 

“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 

“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 

“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.

“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”

“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.

“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”

You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.

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John Morgan: Evola crítico de forma única tanto el tradicionalismo en su relación con la política moderna como nos proporcionó una guía práctica para su rectificación tradicional.

Por Eren Yeşilyurt

Traducción de Juan Gabriel Caro Rivera

Julius Evola sigue siendo un pensador importante cuyas ideas han dado forma al discurso de la derecha en todo el mundo. En una conversación reciente con John Morgan, un editor y redactor estadounidense que ha contribuido decisivamente a dar a conocer las obras de Evola a los lectores de habla inglesa, exploramos la crítica de Evola al fascismo, su concepción de la Tradición y el impacto más amplio de su pensamiento en la derecha política.

¿Cuáles son las principales características que distinguen a Evola de otros pensadores de la escuela tradicionalista?

En primer lugar, la idea de que existe una «escuela tradicionalista» es muy problemática. Ninguno de los principales expositores de la Tradición utilizó jamás el término «Tradicionalista» o «Tradicionalismo», ni se refirió a una «escuela Tradicionalista». De hecho, René Guénon dedica un capítulo entero de su libro El Reino de la Cantidad y los Signos de los Tiempos a denunciar el concepto de «Tradicionalismo». Guénon se refiere a la tendencia a concebir la Tradición en tales términos como «uno de los síntomas más evidentes de la confusión intelectual que reina por todas partes en el mundo actual; pero no hay que olvidar que esta misma confusión es querida por lo que se oculta detrás de toda la desviación moderna; este pensamiento se impone particularmente en vistas de la aparición simultánea en muchos sectores diferentes de intentos de hacer un uso ilegítimo de la idea misma de “tradición” por parte de personas que quieren asimilar indebidamente su significado a sus propias concepciones en uno u otro dominio». Continúa describiendo a los «tradicionalistas» como personas que sólo tienen una especie de tendencia o aspiración hacia la tradición sin saber realmente nada de ella; ésta es la medida de la distancia que separa el espíritu «tradicionalista» del espíritu verdaderamente tradicional, pues este último implica un conocimiento real, siendo de hecho en cierto sentido lo mismo que ese conocimiento. En resumen, el «tradicionalista» no es ni puede ser más que un simple «buscador» y por eso corre siempre el peligro de extraviarse, al no estar en posesión de los principios que son los únicos que podrían proporcionarle una guía infalible; y su peligro es tanto mayor cuanto que encontrará en su camino, como emboscadas, todas las falsas ideas puestas en pie por el poder de la ilusión, que tiene un vivo interés en impedirle alcanzar la verdadera meta de su búsqueda.

Merece la pena leer lo que Guénon escribe sobre este tema en su totalidad, pero, en resumen, la razón de su condena es que afirmar que existe tal cosa como el «Tradicionalismo» es tanto sugerir que la Tradición es una ideología afín a los otros «-ismos» como el liberalismo o el comunismo, como que es algo innovador. Ciertamente, la Tradición no es una ideología, lo que sugeriría que es algo inventado por los hombres y no una verdad metafísica eterna que existe independientemente de la humanidad. De hecho, el uso del término «Tradicionalismo» es sin duda parte de la razón por la que se confunde tan a menudo con ser una ideología política. Aunque hay un enfoque político implícito en la Tradición (aunque no tenga nada que ver con la política de partidos), su aspecto político es también el más mundano y el menos útil para alguien que intente abrazar la Tradición en el mundo posmoderno. Referirse a la Tradición como «Tradicionalismo» también sugiere que es una religión en sí misma, cuando en realidad es la esencia de todas las religiones válidas, pero que los hombres sólo pueden conocer a través de la práctica de una religión. Además, Guénon y los que vinieron después no estaban ofreciendo una nueva religión al mundo, sino que intentaban captar la esencia de la Tradición en términos que la hicieran comprensible para la mentalidad moderna y esperaban conducir a sus lectores de vuelta a las religiones establecidas.

El filósofo húngaro seguidor de la Tradición Róbert Horváth ha añadido la siguiente observación importante a las observaciones de Guénon, en su reseña del libro Contra el mundo moderno, del académico laico Mark Sedgwick: “La orientación tradicional no significa «ser seguidor» de Evola, Guénon o Ziegler. Estos autores dieron los primeros pasos en el camino de la restauración, sus interpretaciones son significativas, el trabajo de sus vidas muestra el camino; no se trata de seguirlos, sino de seguir adelante, de construir sobre su legado”.

Dicho todo esto, comprendo que, en aras de la discusión, utilicemos a veces el término «Tradicionalismo» por conveniencia para referirnos a todos aquellos que se han inspirado en Guénon, en las diversas y variadas formas en que esto se ha manifestado a lo largo de los años. Sin embargo, siempre que lo hagamos debemos tener presente la crítica de Guénon.

Para responder a su pregunta, Julius Evola fue el único de los escritores que intentaron seguir los pasos de Guénon (aunque la desviación de las enseñanzas fundamentales de Guénon de un modo u otro se convertiría en práctica habitual de muchos de los que vinieron después de él, entre los que destaca Frithjof Schuon). El alcance de esto ha sido convertir a Evola en un hereje a los ojos de la «escuela tradicionalista»; incluso hoy en día rara vez se encuentra el nombre de Evola en los escritos de quienes escriben sobre la Tradición desde perspectivas guénonianas o schuonianas, a menos que sea para condenarlo.

Sería imposible explorar exhaustivamente las muchas diferencias entre la concepción de Evola y Guénon de la Tradición y otros temas en el espacio de una entrevista. Una de las más importantes, sin embargo, es la incredulidad de Evola en la capacidad de las religiones tradicionales que sobreviven en el mundo moderno para proporcionar una vía iniciática válida. De hecho, llegó a decir que incluso si todavía existen centros iniciáticos válidos, sería imposible para el público acceder a ellos en nuestra época. Esto está muy en desacuerdo con los puntos de vista de la mayoría de los que siguen el camino de la Tradición, que normalmente siguen el Islam, el Catolicismo o una de las otras religiones Tradicionales. A esto Evola oponía la idea de la «autoiniciación», aunque reconocía que sólo ciertos individuos superiores son capaces de tal hazaña.

Otra diferencia importante es el desdén de Evola por el cristianismo. Aunque Guénon creía que el catolicismo se había corrompido demasiado por la modernidad como para seguir siendo un portador eficaz de la Tradición, nunca negó que fuera una religión tradicional o que fuera el vehículo a través del cual la Tradición se había revelado a los pueblos de Europa. Por el contrario, Evola consideraba que el cristianismo era una religión semita no aria que había usurpado la posición que legítimamente ocupaban las religiones solares y heroicas de la Europa precristiana y que la conversión del continente había puesto las semillas de la posterior degeneración y caída de Europa. Esta crítica no es exclusiva de Evola y se pueden encontrar iteraciones similares en Friedrich Nietzsche y el mentor de Evola, Arturo Reghini, entre otros. Aunque el enfoque de Evola hacia el cristianismo se suavizó con los años con respecto a la feroz oposición que había expresado en su primer libro El imperialismo pagano, que fue condenado por el Vaticano, los principios de su crítica permanecieron inalterados. Aunque en sus obras posteriores reconocía que, al absorber muchos de los elementos arios de la Europa precristiana, el surgimiento del catolicismo en ella condujo a una rectificación de lo que él denominaba el «cristianismo primitivo», no creía que el catolicismo debiera considerarse una religión totalmente no aria.

Por último, Evola fue el único escritor de la Tradición que abordó la política de forma significativa en su obra. Mientras que otros autores tradicionales han tocado ocasionalmente el tema, y está claro que la visión tradicional del mundo debe ser antiliberal dado que el liberalismo es una manifestación de los efectos niveladores de nuestra época, Evola fue el único autor que desarrolló no sólo una crítica completa de la política moderna desde una perspectiva tradicional, sino que también ofreció orientación sobre cómo utilizar la política para lograr una rectificación tradicional. Este es, por supuesto, el aspecto más controvertido de su obra, y la razón por la que es considerado «tóxico» por muchos, incluso por algunos que podrían simpatizar con otros aspectos de su visión del mundo. En las corrientes que derivan de Guénon y Schuon, la política suele considerarse demasiado mundana – y demasiado problemática – como para ser digna de consideración.

¿Cómo influyó en el pensamiento de Evola la ruptura entre la autoridad sagrada de las sociedades tradicionales y la legitimidad política de los Estados seculares modernos?

Esta ruptura fue el centro de la vertiente política de la obra de Evola, dirigida a deshacerla. Un punto de referencia continuo para Evola fue el conflicto entre los güelfos y los gibelinos en el norte de Italia durante los siglos XII y XIII, que surgió como resultado de la Controversia de las Investiduras. Los güelfos, que a menudo representaban los intereses de la creciente clase mercantil, consideraban al Papa como la autoridad suprema, mientras que los aristocráticos gibelinos favorecían la autoridad del emperador del Sacro Imperio Romano Germánico. Evola creía que los gibelinos representaban un resurgimiento del orden social genuinamente ario. Las opiniones de Evola al respecto eran muy poco ortodoxas, dado que en Revuelta contra el mundo moderno afirmaba que, en tiempos primordiales, la casta guerrera había sido superior a la casta sacerdotal en la jerarquía social. El escritor tradicional Ananda Coomaraswamy criticó cortésmente a Evola por esta afirmación y señaló que el ritual hindú que había citado como prueba de ello había sido mal traducido. No obstante, Evola nunca se retractó de esta opinión.

Evola creía que el ascenso a la supremacía de los sacerdotes sobre la casta guerrera era el principio del fin del orden político tradicional en Occidente. Esto culminó en la Revolución Francesa, cuando la monarquía fue barrida y reemplazada por nuevos líderes seculares que fueron puestos en el poder por la voluntad popular y los intereses comerciales (es decir, las dos castas inferiores), una tendencia que pronto se afianzó y se extendió por todo el mundo. El orden sagrado que antaño había prevalecido en todas partes, en el que los reyes eran consagrados y asesorados por un sacerdocio Tradicional, había pasado a la historia. Como dijo Evola cuando le juzgaron por intentar resucitar el fascismo, negando que fuera fascista: «Mis principios son sólo aquellos que, antes de la Revolución Francesa, toda persona de bien consideraba cuerdos y normales».

En El hombre y las ruinas quedan claras las opiniones políticas de Evola y sigue siendo una de las declaraciones más claras de lo que fue la «Verdadera Derecha» que precedió al surgimiento de la política liberal-democrática moderna.

¿Cómo influyeron las ideas de Evola en la derecha italiana y dónde se centraron sus críticas al fascismo?

La influencia de Julius Evola en la derecha italiana antes de 1945 fue marginal. Siempre es importante recordar que Evola nunca fue miembro del Partido Fascista y que siguió siendo un fuerte crítico del régimen tanto durante como después de su reinado, aunque lo considerara preferible al liberalismo y al comunismo, dado que creía que el fascismo al menos ofrecía la posibilidad de desarrollarse en una dirección tradicional. Aunque Evola publicaba a menudo sus escritos en algunas de las revistas afiliadas al fascismo, y a pesar de que conocía personalmente a muchos altos cargos del régimen (entre ellos Mussolini), hay pocos indicios de que influyera en el partido o en su política. La única excepción fueron sus escritos sobre la raza. El mismo Mussolini tenía en alta estima la concepción más «espiritual» que Evola tenía de la raza, en contraposición a la interpretación puramente biológica del término adoptada por los nacionalsocialistas alemanes. He leído diversas versiones de lo que esto significaba exactamente desde el punto de vista político, pero parece que los escritos de Evola sobre la raza influyeron en la concepción oficial fascista de la misma a finales de 1930 y principios de 1940. No sé hasta qué punto.

Evola tuvo un impacto mucho más profundo en la derecha italiana de la posguerra. No hay mejor muestra de ello que el hecho de que Giorgio Almirante, el primer líder del Movimiento Social Italiano – un importante partido de la Derecha italiana durante los años de posguerra – se refiriera célebremente a Evola como «nuestro Marcuse, sólo que mejor». Sin embargo, la verdadera influencia que Evola ejerció no fue en la política de partido, sino en aquellos radicales de derechas que participaron en los «años de plomo» entre finales de 1960 y 1980. Evola fue muy leído por los jóvenes de derechas en la Italia de posguerra, aunque no se sabe con certeza hasta qué punto inculcaron sus ideas. En 1970 Evola fomentaba la apolitia o el desapego de la política. Por el contrario, algunos de los que le leían ejercían la violencia política contra la izquierda y desarrollaron nuevas ideologías como el «nazi-maoísmo», una idea propuesta por Franco Freda y adoptada por otros que llegarían a ser muy prominentes en la derecha radical italiana, como Claudio Mutti. Parece dudoso que Evola hubiera tenido mucho que decir sobre este intento de síntesis entre la extrema izquierda y la extrema derecha, dadas sus críticas al nacionalsocialismo y su rechazo total de todas las formas de socialismo. Por lo tanto, es muy cuestionable hasta qué punto tales actividades deben considerarse una manifestación de una forma evoliana de hacer política.

No soy italiano y no tengo claro hasta qué punto Evola sigue ejerciendo influencia en la derecha italiana actual. Sin embargo, por lo que he oído, sigue considerándose una lectura esencial para los jóvenes derechistas italianos. Ciertamente, grupos como CasaPound siguen haciendo referencia a Evola. Además, dada la vigorosa actividad en términos de publicaciones, conferencias y demás que sigue girando en torno a la obra de Evola en Italia, parece que sigue habiendo un gran interés por él allí.

En cuanto a la crítica de Evola al fascismo italiano, dedicó un libro entero, El fascismo visto desde la derecha, a este tema, así como numerosos ensayos. Aunque Evola reconocía algunas cualidades positivas en el fascismo, como el mantenimiento de la monarquía, también lo criticaba por ser, en última instancia, un producto del orden liberal que depuso. Consideraba que estaba revestido del mismo materialismo, socialismo, complacencia con las masas, inclinaciones totalitarias, desdén por la jerarquía genuina y fijación por el «progreso» que encarnan los gobiernos liberales. Así, aunque consideraba que los movimientos fascistas eran superiores al liberalismo o al comunismo, no los veía, con razón, como tradicionales.

Mientras que Evola analiza el mundo moderno en el contexto del colapso de la Tradición, Jünger adopta un enfoque más fenomenológico, examinando la técnica, la guerra y la transformación del individuo; ¿cuáles son los puntos de intersección entre estos dos pensadores?

Evola estuvo en estrecho contacto con muchos de los «revolucionarios conservadores» alemanes durante la década de 1930. Sin embargo, no parece que se reuniera nunca con Ernst Jünger durante este periodo. Aunque en aquella época ambos pensadores podían calificarse de «hombres de derechas», sus planteamientos eran, sin embargo, diferentes. Evola veía las ideas políticas que se estaban gestando en la Revolución Conservadora como un posible camino de regreso al mundo de la Tradición, mientras que Jünger, como nacionalista, siempre fue muy previsor; buscaba la destrucción de lo viejo para liberar fuerzas que condujeran al surgimiento de un orden mundial completamente nuevo y aterradoramente inhumano, así como de un nuevo tipo de hombre que lo habitara. (En su vida posterior, Evola reconoció que tal cosa era posible, pero no la consideraba diferente en esencia del nuevo tipo de hombre propuesto por el comunismo). Así, aunque los dos tenían el mismo enemigo en el liberalismo burgués, sus objetivos eran muy diferentes.

Evola dio a conocer su desdén por lo que podríamos denominar el «postnacionalista» Jünger, dado que él – en mi opinión, injustamente – creía que Jünger había actuado deslealmente al tener contacto con los que intentaron asesinar a Adolf Hitler en julio de 1944, y también que se había vuelto en contra de su posición anterior y había aceptado los valores liberales de la República Federal de Alemania después de la guerra. No obstante, siempre respetó la obra de Jünger anterior a 1933. Sin embargo, una crítica de las opiniones de Evola sobre Jünger queda fuera del alcance de esta entrevista.

Que yo sepa, no hay ninguna referencia a Evola en ninguna obra de Jünger. Esto quizá no sea sorprendente, ya que, aunque la crítica de Jünger a la modernidad se asemeja en algunos aspectos a la tradicional, y a pesar de que afirmaba la existencia de fuerzas metafísicas ocultas que impulsan la historia, nunca planteó la iniciación en un orden metafísico trascendente como solución a los males del mundo moderno, permaneciendo siempre nietzscheano. Jünger sí escribió ocasionalmente sobre religión, como en su libro El nudo gordiano – que Evola reseñó con bastante dureza –, aunque su concepción de la misma tiene poco que ver con la perspectiva tradicional.

No obstante, sabemos que Jünger conocía a Evola, ya que éste le envió una carta en 1953 para pedirle permiso para traducir al italiano el libro de Jünger de 1932 El trabajador. Por lo que se sabe, ese fue el único contacto directo que ambos mantuvieron. Al final, Evola no tradujo la obra, sino que escribió un resumen y una crítica de la misma.

A pesar del desdén de Evola por el posterior Jünger, existe cierta coincidencia entre sus perspectivas de posguerra. En Cabalgar el tigre Evola afirma que la única actitud correcta que un hombre de la Tradición de nuestra época debe observar hacia la política es la apoliteia o desapego de lo político. (Es importante señalar que esto es diferente de no comprometerse con lo político en absoluto, ya que uno todavía puede comprometerse con ello mientras permanece desvinculado de tales actividades). Esto tiene un paralelismo obvio con huir a los bosques de Jünger, que describe en La emboscadura, y el Anarca, como se detalla en su novela Eumeswil. En esta última obra, Jünger afirma que, a medida que la tecnología invade cada vez más todos los aspectos de nuestras vidas, la única forma de libertad de que dispondrá el hombre será desvincularse todo lo posible de nuestro entorno y abrazar la «libertad interior», aun permaneciendo exteriormente integrado en la sociedad. El anarquista nunca se rebela contra la sociedad, ya que Jünger sostenía que esto conduciría inevitablemente a la autodestrucción (en sí misma coherente con las doctrinas tradicionales).

Los dos pensadores plantean soluciones similares al predicamento posmoderno, aunque la principal diferencia es que Evola sostiene que la auténtica libertad sólo puede realizarse cultivando el contacto con el reino superior de la Tradición, mientras que Jünger sugiere que la libertad sólo puede venir del individuo. (Evola nunca tuvo la oportunidad de criticar el Anarca de Jünger, dado que Eumeswil no se publicó hasta 1977, tres años después de la muerte de Evola). Aunque se trata de una distinción fundamental, creo que ambos enfoques pueden compararse y contrastarse de forma fructífera. Espero poder hacerlo por escrito en algún momento.

¿Cómo pueden analizarse la derecha populista, la alt-right y los movimientos neofascistas actuales dentro del marco conceptual de Evola?

Lo que constituye exactamente la «Alt-Right» es objeto de debate, ya que nunca hubo ningún partido político o grupo unificado que llevara ese nombre. A partir de 2016 los principales medios de comunicación cooptaron el término para referirse a todas aquellas personas, medios de comunicación y organizaciones de Estados Unidos que quedaban fuera de los límites del conservadurismo dominante, a pesar de que existían enormes diferencias de ideas y enfoque entre ellos. Sin embargo, difícilmente puede decirse que esté «en alza», dado que los esfuerzos de quienes aceptaron el apelativo en su momento – sobre todo Richard Spencer y sus aliados – se desintegraron por completo en 2018, a raíz del desastre de Charlottesville. Incluso el propio Spencer hace tiempo que renunció a utilizar el término. Por supuesto, sigue habiendo individuos y grupos en los márgenes de la vida política estadounidense que defienden puntos de vista similares, pero pocos o ninguno utilizan el término «Alt-Right» hoy en día, ya que una de las pocas cosas en las que todos ellos están de acuerdo es que la «Alt-Right» fue un fiasco; normalmente se oye hablar de la «derecha disidente» y términos similares.

Dicho esto, la única visión evoliana o tradicional adecuada de los tres fenómenos que has nombrado es la crítica severa. Todos ellos están totalmente atrapados en el paradigma moderno y aceptan todos los presupuestos del liberalismo. Lo explicaré con más detalle a continuación.

La derecha populista es una rebelión contra la Tradición, ya que se basa en «el pueblo» y no en la autoridad sagrada o regia. Evola fue crítico con los elementos populistas del fascismo italiano y sin duda lo sería aún más con el populismo actual. El fascismo italiano, como mínimo, conservó la monarquía y la relación entre el Estado y la Iglesia, aunque éstas siguieran supeditadas a los intereses del partido. El populismo actual en Occidente ni siquiera va tan lejos. La comprensión de la tradición propagada por los populistas actuales en Europa y Estados Unidos nunca va más allá del nivel totalmente superficial de un conjunto vagamente definido de «valores tradicionales» e incluso en eso rara vez hacen más que hablar de dientes para afuera. Si hay algo antiliberal en el populismo, es sólo de naturaleza oligárquica y no monárquica o religiosa. Puede haber razones pragmáticas para apoyar a los populistas frente a otras tendencias políticas en algunos países, pero no tienen nada que ver con la Tradición.

En cuanto a la Alt-Right, dado que estuve íntimamente familiarizado con ella durante el breve tiempo que existió, puedo decir con confianza que mientras Evola, y en menor medida la Tradición, fueron ocasionalmente referenciados por aquellos que podrían ser categorizados como tales, esto raramente se extendió más allá del nivel de los memes «Surf the Kali Yuga» y similares. Ninguna de las principales figuras de este «movimiento», si es que podemos dignificarlo con tal etiqueta, mostraba ningún rastro significativo de influencia de la Tradición en sus palabras o acciones, incluso cuando afirmaban actuar de acuerdo con ella (estoy pensando en el Traditionalist Worker Party). Hubo algunos individuos aquí y allá asociados a esos círculos que comenzaron una exploración más profunda y en algunos casos abrazaron la Tradición, pero esto siempre acabó alejándoles de las actividades explícitamente políticas (como es lógico una vez que se inculca la cosmovisión Tradicional). La mayoría de las personas de ese entorno parecían ver a Evola y a la Tradición más como una herramienta para ser utilizada con otros fines que como la base de sus vidas y actividades, que es precisamente el tipo de cosas contra las que Guénon advertía. Esto es lamentable, ya que una comprensión más profunda de Evola y de los demás autores de la Tradición podría haberles ayudado a superar su incapacidad para trascender esas limitaciones que han conducido a los repetidos fracasos de la Derecha durante el último siglo: una adoración casi mística de la supuesta sabiduría del «hombre común», una fijación en la raza biológica como lo más importante de la política, una ignorancia del significado genuino de la jerarquía, un desprecio total por la religión aparte de los esfuerzos, a menudo mal concebidos, por reconstruir el paganismo europeo (una tarea que tanto Guénon como Evola consideraban imposible), la incapacidad de pensar más allá de la construcción liberal moderna del Estado-nación, una fascinación excesiva por los movimientos fascistas del periodo de entreguerras, el desprecio por la autoridad, la falta de seriedad y la preocupación por la ironía y la degeneración, etc.   

La situación de la «derecha radical» en la anglosfera sigue siendo la misma; en todo caso, Evola es aún más tangencial que antes. Veo pocas referencias a Evola o a la Tradición entre la «derecha disidente» actual. Cuando se hace referencia a él, a menudo es para denunciarlo, lo que no es sorprendente, dado que cualquiera que lea realmente a Evola se dará cuenta enseguida de que era crítico o incluso opuesto a muchas de las suposiciones que ellos defienden, como ya he mencionado. Una excepción a esto es el erudito que se hace llamar Academic Agent (de nombre real Neema Parvini). Pero me cuesta pensar en otros.

En cuanto al neofascismo, basta con leer el libro de Evola El fascismo visto desde la derecha, así como sus otros escritos sobre el tema, para ver que era muy crítico con el fascismo, como ya he comentado más arriba. Soy consciente de que todavía hoy hay neofascistas que citan a Evola como influencia, aunque no estoy seguro de cómo concilian ambas cosas. Ya en vida Evola se lamentaba en algún lugar de sus escritos de que la juventud italiana de derechas de la posguerra estuviera demasiado obsesionada con el fascismo y el nacionalsocialismo, lo que atribuía a su ignorancia de figuras que realmente representaban la Tradición en la historia, como Metternich; se refería a este defecto como una «falta de referentes adecuados». No obstante, parece que los neofascistas de hoy en día en la anglosfera – parece que en Italia es diferente – denuncian más a menudo a Evola de lo que lo abrazan. Esta ha sido ciertamente mi observación de aquellos que se refieren a sí mismos como tales en la anglosfera hoy en día.

Aunque Evola nunca condenó a quienes se interesaban por la Tradición y, sin embargo, querían seguir siendo políticamente activos, imploró a esas personas que se mantuvieran interiormente desvinculadas del vulgar mundo de la política partidista y que mantuvieran la Tradición en el centro de su activismo, que, en su opinión, estaba mejor representado en la forma de una Orden sagrada que en la de un partido político (esboza sus ideas al respecto en su último ensayo «La Orden de la Corona de Hierro»). También escribió extensamente sobre cómo un hombre de Tradición puede vivir en un mundo en el que no hay esperanza de rectificación política según las líneas tradicionales en uno de sus últimos libros, Cabalgar el tigre.

Fuente: https://erenyesilyurt.com/index.php/2025/04/17/john-morgan-evola-uniquely-provided-both-a-comprehensive-traditionalist-critique-of-modern-politics-and-practical-guidance-for-its-traditional-rectification/