#church website to app

[ectonurites]

ghhhhghhghhghghhh i hate when things suddenly change the interface font. evil .

[tieronecrush]

BNBG (brand new baby girl)

frankie morales x curvy OF/cam girl f!reader

summary: frankie has been needing distractions from a hurdle in his sobriety, so he ventures to his frequented subscription service platform to take his mind off things. he sees the title of your page, intrigued immediately, and dives deep into your content. catching your attention on a livestream with his confident commands, frankie becomes infatuated with you and an avid viewer before he decides to DM you one day...and then ends up with a brand new baby girl.

wc: 11k

rating: E (very)

warnings: daddy kink!! **cover does not depict anything about the reader, simply vibes of softness**, vague descriptions of reader's body (plush, thick, curves, soft, etc. no definite descriptors used otherwise. picture her as you want but she is mid to plus size in my head 🫶), no age specified (only that reader started out of college, no specifications of when she went to school), discussions of addiction & drug use, childless frankie au, sex work, sex livestream, consumption of porn, unestablished relationship, online relationship, pet names (conejita, baby, babygirl, pequeña, bunny, etc.), gratuitous descriptions of frankie's dick, SMUT, male masturbation, female masterbation, sex toys, both frankie & reader have thoughts about the other (unprotected piv, fingering, oral, etc.), major dirty talk, d/s dynamics, some fluff sprinkled in <3, this might be lowkey problematic that frankie uses porn to cope (esp reader's porn) buuuuut hopefully it's hot

a/n: cover design & dividers by me 💋 this is an unhinged daydream of mine, hope y'all enjoy! huge thank you to my besties @kiwisbell and @northernbluess for beta-reading 💓

The time on Frankie’s phone screen turns over to well past midnight. Bedroom pitched black save for the blue light illuminating his face as he scrolls on Instagram, unable to fall asleep from thoughts stirring. He wants to scratch the itch — to pick at the scab that’s been growing in his brain for over a year. Temptation runs hot in his veins. A craving, deep in his gut. A strong inhale or the rub of his fingertip against his gums. It would be fast.  And it would only last less than half an hour — he could manage it one more time, he was sober enough for that, wasn’t he? He indulges himself in other aspects now: drinking, food, lax with his once regimented workout routine.

Frankie can hear the voice of his sponsor, the one he listens to speak at his weekly meetings in the musty church hall. Sure, his sponsor’s got valuable advice for him, having been sober for decades now, but he can’t relate to Frankie. Not really. He doesn’t know the level of temptation he’s consistently faced with, doesn’t know the fucked up shit he’s seen that got him into the substance in the first place.

His sponsor tells him to get into meditation. That it helps him turn his brain off when he has a craving, redirecting the energy into himself and crushing the aching want for it. Or some spiritual bullshit that Frankie doesn’t understand.

And besides, he’s found his own means of meditation.

Exiting the social media app, he opens his browser and types in the website. The light of the phone illuminates his face enough for his saved login to work, bringing him into his plane of piety. Where he escapes at least three times a week, late nights like now and the occasional mid-afternoon or morning on his desperate days off. When the urge is too strong. When he’s formulating a plan of how to get his hands on a tiny baggie, he loses himself — distracts his brain here.

Scrolling through his usual subscriptions, nothing seems to be hitting the spot. One hand grips his phone, thumb gliding along the screen, while the other cups his hard-on through his boxers, palming himself as he searches for something to get off to.

That’s when he sees it — the perfect combination of words that draws him in by the title. Clicking the page, he’s quick to pledge his monthly amount, eager to get access to all that lies beyond the paywall. And what he’s greeted with, pulls a sigh from his lips in the quiet room, his large hand squeezing his cock through the thin fabric elasticated around his waist. 

“Fuck…” he mumbles to himself when he sees that there’s a live stream happening. A cosmic intervention for him, he thinks, a sign that he’s meant to satiate his vices with this.

With you.

The screen changes to a vertical view of you in front of the camera, iPhone seemingly propped up against something while you sit on your mattress. It’s so…delicate and soft. Those are the words he can think of to describe the backdrop that he takes in quickly. Billowing white comforter on your bed, pillows surrounding you. The first thought he has is that it looks like a bed he could easily sleep in — much more inviting than his. There are touches of blush pink, sky blue, and more. A complete rainbow of desaturated colors.

It all compliments you. Centered in the frame, the next sound you make drags his eyes back to your form as you move around. Another squeeze to his cock draws a longer sigh from his lips as he combs across the view of your body, scantily clad in a thong and a bra covered in cherries. The cups of the bra push up the weight of your breasts, spilling over the edge. His tongue runs across his lips to wet them, a new craving ravaging his mouth as he wonders what you would taste like with the skin of your tits dampened by his saliva.

The rest of your body is as softly lined and curving as your chest, waist swooping into your hips as you sit on your knees in front of the camera. Thick thighs spread with the press of your calves into the back of them, the inside of them meeting at the apex and providing cover for what he so badly wants to be shown. There’s a line of your stomach above the waist of your panties, supple skin glistening. Delicious, is all he can think to himself. You look so fucking delicious that it floods his mouth with saliva, enough that he feels the overwhelming need to push his boxers down, freeing his hard cock to rest against his stomach until he’s spitting into his palm and starting a slow, languid pace.

The grain of his palm drags against the length of his cock as he keeps a steady flick of his wrist. Not too fast, but not achingly slow. Enough to start stoking the burning coals in the pit of his stomach as he watches you on the small rectangular screen. Puffs of hot air leave his mouth, his jaw hanging open while he watches you shift to reach for something out of frame, the first look at your ass gifted to him. Rounded swell of curves with the fabric of your thong dipping between them. The slight jiggle of your cheeks makes Frankie moan quietly, taking the briefest moment to picture that same ripple in your skin from him fucking you from behind.

“Shit…” he grumbles under his breath, minorly increasing the pressure of his grip to squeeze his cock as his hand moves, desperate to mimic the feeling of someone — apparently you, despite not knowing anything close to your name.

Skin on skin catches on the base of his dick and he exhales sharply with his teeth bared, opening his palm to spit once again. It’s not enough, but he continues the slide of his wrist as he sets his phone down on the mattress briefly, reaching over to his nightstand, pausing once again to dispense a pump of lotion into the palm of his right hand. Wrapping the moistened hand around his cock again, he starts a faster pace before slowing down to drag out his pleasure longer.

Returning into the frame fully, he sees your face for the first time and coughs as his open-mouthed inhale seizes in his throat. His fingers circle the base of his cock, squeezing hard as he takes in your face. Perfectly primped with a layer of makeup, but he can tell you’ve got the kind of beauty that wouldn’t ever need changing or enhancing — effortless. Velvety skin, as silky as the rest of your body but with an added glow. Bright eyes that are shining with mischief and want, and a smirk that’s as playful; he finds himself shutting his eyes again, for a few lazy strokes as he pictures that face, and your plush, pliable body, on your knees in front of him. Eagerly awaiting his cock to fill your mouth.

Fuck, you’re really doing a number on him tonight. He needed this. His desperation for a high of any kind coats his open mouth with each labored breath.

Focused back on his phone, you show off the treasure that you dug for off-camera. A lilac vibrator, one that fits the length of your hand, with a swell of size rounded off at the tip and tapered in at the end. Leaning closer to your camera, Frankie groans when your tits bounce, spilling out of your bra with a tiny nip slip that he catches immediately. And it only makes him want to see more.

“Mm, c’mon, pretty girl, show me something here. M’fuckin’ dying…Necesito la distracción (I need the distraction),” Frankie speaks toward the screen, feeling pathetic as he barters with you in the one-way system.

As if you heard his pleas, you adjust your position, laying back on the mountain of pillows to prop yourself up and letting one leg fall open. Even in the lowered lighting of the room you’re in, presumably your bedroom, he can make out the wet patch covering your folds. He finds himself wondering if the act of getting off in front of a camera, in front of people watching live, is what gets you wet. Or if you have a fluffer like he’s heard they do in porn.

He’d wanna be your fluffer.

Or maybe he’d want to be the one to fuck you in the porno. At least both of you’d get to finish then.

“Think I need someone who knows better than me to tell me what they wanna see.” Your voice is saccharine, the slight fry in your voice jolts his hips into his hand, mumbles of curses slipping from his lips. “Anybody have any suggestions for me, chat?”

A low hum starts when you press the button of the vibrator in your hand, spreading your knees further to open your core to the view of the camera completely. Your opposite hand to the toy hooks into the crotch of your thong, pulling the small bit of fabric, practically a string with the amount it’s covering.

Frankie’s mouth waters as the speed of his hand picks up, the grip of his fingers not nearly as satisfying as the clench of a pussy, but he’ll make do. He has been for a year; you know what they say, no relationships for the first year sober. That, and he couldn’t find anyone that could take his mind off of coke long enough for him to get it up. So eventually he just let it be.

Now, though, he’s painfully hard. The quick movements of his hand send a shock of pleasure up to his brain, veins contracting with the extra effort to keep the blood supply to his cock. Thumb brushes over his tip, mixing in his precum with the other lubrication, a hiss from behind his teeth shot out from the stimulation. His gaze is glued onto his rectangular screen, huffing out deep breaths while you press the vibrator against your clit. There’s a quiver in your thighs that he notices, as if this is your first touch after teasing yourself, or someone else teasing you. Sensitive already.

Biting your lip, your eyes scan the screen as you read aloud, “FiveFingersAtFreddys said ‘Take your bra off please.’ Well, actually he said ‘Take your tits out’ but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, dude, and say that you actually do have good manners.”

He laughs, and it’s a first for him. Laughing at someone’s jokes as he jerks off, alone.

You comply with the request, taking the vibrator away from your clit to reach around and unclasp your bra. Tossing the material aside, you lean back into the pillows again and the next sight nearly makes Frankie come right then and there until he takes his hand away completely. Laid out, legs open and fingers pulling your panties aside, vibrator pushing into your clit and driving a high-pitched moan from your lips. All while you're bare from the waist up, cushioned torso melting into your heavy tits, pert nipples bringing them to a point. The form of a Greek classics statue, one with fleshy outlines carved impeccably from marble.

“La obra maestra (A masterpiece)…” Frankie whispers to himself, the squelch of his lotioned hand working his hard length bringing him back into his body, a moan slipping from his mouth.

“I think I need someone else to tell me how I should play with myself. M’so wet, jus’ wanna touch myself but I don’t know where to start. All seems like—like it’s going to feel so good,” you stutter out when your hips buck against the vibrator, a whimper echoing from your chest as you turn your attention to the chat again, awaiting intriguing instructions.

Maybe it’s sexual frustration, maybe it’s pathetic. Maybe it’s the intense fucking craving to replace his need for coke high with a need for an orgasm, but for whatever reason chosen, Frankie finds himself clicking on the comment box with his thumb, typing wildly with one finger. He takes a second to read it for spelling errors before he presses send. Too lost in it all now to care.

Your eyes perk up, smirk growing on your face when you read the influx of chat replies. One must have caught your eye because the vibrator is being left to the side again. Fingers hook into the waist of your panties, slowly pulling them off as you read aloud the comment that caught your attention.

“There’s a new name I see here…Maybe we should do what you want, Mr. FlyingFish. Consider it a welcome gift from me to you.” His heart is pounding in his chest, hand gripping tighter and twisting around his dick as he fucks his fist, mumbles of curses spilling out as he listens to you repeat what he desperately typed not a minute prior. It sounds dirtier coming from you, despite his best efforts at politeness, “You said ‘Please show off how many of your little fingers fit into your pretty pussy. Think a pretty girl like you deserves to fuck her fingers…’ Alright, FlyingFish, you’ve got me blushin’ from that request and that is difficult to do, sir. Thank you for calling me a pretty girl. I promise I’m smart, too. I’ll be sure to count ‘em for you.”

One finger slips into your dripping entrance easily, the other hand reaching for the vibrator and replacing it at your clit while your finger starts to fuck shallowly, “One finger…”

Whines of frustration crack over his small speakers before a bigger moan falls from your lips, a second finger slid into you alongside the first, “Oh, fuck…That’s two. Mm, how am I doin’? FlyingFish, d’you think I can get another?”

Frankie’s wrist flicks rapidly now, the direct address to him driving him mad as the sounds of his arm slapping against his stomach and thigh clap in his room and cut into the sounds your pussy is making as you get yourself off. He types as quickly as he can, strings of curses flowing from his mouth as the heat of his desire burns red hot inside of him. He’s so fucking close but he wants to watch you fall apart at the same time. Wants to be the reason you come.

“Oh, shit—you’ve got a mouth, FlyingFish. ‘I’d hope you can take another, otherwise, you couldn’t take my cock.’ Is that a promise, Fish? You saying you got a big dick for me to take?” 

You whimper and he’s edging himself, squeezing hard to stay together when you inadvertently use his call sign. The closest thing you have to his name, and all he can think about is you screaming it while he’s fucking you. He wants to tell you it’s a promise only if you follow through, indulging in the fantasy of actually getting to touch you only for a moment. But instead, his attention is completely drawn to a third finger stretching your cunt in full view of the camera, your wanton moans popping in his speakers and driving his forearm to burn with the strain of muscle as he attempts to fist his cock even harder.

“Fuckfuckfuck…Come for me, baby, please fucking come on those fingers,” he begs no one but himself, a blinding white heat licking the entire inside of his body as he balances on the edge. Waiting for you to fall first.

“Oh my god, fuck…” The last word is drawn out, pitching up at the end as your fingers fuck faster, squelching sounds of your wetness flooding his mouth as his brain pleads for a taste of your cunt. “I don’t think—I don’t think I can get a fourth. M’gonna fucking come—ah! Oh, fuck me, Fish…”

You barely whisper his name, or at least what is his name to you, but it’s singlehandedly what punches out his guttural moan, ropes of warm, sticking spend coating his hand as he keeps moving and spilling onto his stomach. It’s prolonged, the tension in his calves relaxing after he spills the most come he has in a while.

Airy, light, a rush of blood back to his head has his whole body tingling with a high. Satiating his cravings from earlier, dissolving the want, the need, for anything of the sort. Instead, it’s replaced with thoughts of you — the image of you laying fucked out on his phone, adding his own touch of imagination when he closes his eyes to see you as you are but covered with his come the same way he is. Normally, this is when the smallest bit of shame crawls up his spine and sits at the nape of his neck, but instead, he melts into warmth. Faced with your smile as you sit up and lean over toward the camera again, laughing to yourself as you end the live.

“Um, if you’re still here, thanks for that FlyingFish. Felt fucking good…And to everyone else, I’ll stream again on Monday night, same time as always. Night, everyone. Have a good weekend.” All he hears before the sound cuts out is your excited giggles, the brightness of your post-orgasm joy stretching a smile across your face. He’s faced with a black screen, staring back at himself in the reflection with the shit-eating, smug grin he has on his face.

Now he’s got plans for Monday night.

Frankie hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. He’s hooked. Images of your sloping curves flash behind his eyes on the days when you’re not available to watch, his hips fucking his fist in bed, the shower, even on his couch with the blinds all open because he was that needy. Thoughts of you replaced his thoughts of the white powder, chasing after the different high he’s gifted by your voice, your body — all through a screen.

He’s caught himself rasping affections as he pictures you, hissed compliments as he comes and imagining what he’d say if you were in front of him. Letting him use your mouth or your cunt. He’s even gotten into a habit of imagining his head between your legs; the hardest he came is the one time he pictured you sitting on his face and all of the pretty sounds you’d make for him. Fuck, cariño, that’s so good. Mm, bonita, you’re such a good girl. Love doin’ what you’re told, don’t you, baby?

The fact that he doesn’t even know your name but is this infatuated isn’t lost on him. He knows he has an addictive personality, but this feels different. Like he was meant to find you for some reason. His sponsor would tell him it’s a call from the universe that this is all part of his ‘journey to sobriety’, but really, he just thinks that you’re fucking hot. And the tiniest part of him thinks you might like him watching too, even though you have no idea who he is.

Each time he watches you live, his thumb taps across the keyboard, responding to your requests and even adding in some encouragement. Virtually having conversations with you, he quickly became a frequent flyer (your joke, not his). You listen to him. Like the sweet girl that you are. Taking his suggestions — his demands when you beg — and showing off for him, a whimpering mess when he’s done with you.

At times, it feels like he’s the only one watching, or at least the only one that matters to you. With the amount of times his username falls from your lips, it’s easy to fall into a bubble of you and him. You’ve picked up the habit of referring to him as ‘Fish’ and it’s driven him mad, the closest thing to his name that he’ll hear you say. You give him material to think back about for days after. I love a man that knows what he wants, Fish. You can boss me around, Fishie. I always know what you tell me to do is gonna feel so fucking good.

All of this over the last few weeks has built up his courage, which is why he finds himself sitting on his couch with your profile open, the sun barely set outside. A random baseball game plays on his TV, but his focus is completely on his phone, writing and deleting a DM to you about ten times.

It has to be right. Friendly, but not stalker-ish. Flirty, but not creepy. Commanding enough to get your attention among what he imagines are countless messages in your inbox.

After another good ten minutes drafting a message, his thumb hovers over the ‘Send’ button for a few seconds. Squeezing his eyes closed, he lowers his finger and hits the button, anxiety washing over him as he opens his eyes to stare at the blue bubble.

No going back now.

Standing at the stove, water boils over the side of the pot while you pour in the uncooked pasta noodles. A few drops hit your skin, mumbles of curses leaving your lips, “Fucking shit!”

You stir the pasta before reaching for the nearest kitchen towel to wipe the once-scalding water off of your hand. A deep sigh exhales, relaxing your shoulders as the ding of a notification draws your attention to your phone lying on the marble countertop next to you.

What you find on your lock screen sends a shock of excitement down your spine, the warmth of anticipation radiating around your body to tingle your fingers and toes.

[Direct Message:] FlyingFish

Quick to swipe up, the device unlocks with a scan of your face and opens a new notification when you click on it with your thumb. Subconsciously, your opposite thumb has ended up between your teeth, biting down on the skin as you hold back an eager grin while you wait for his message to load.

You’ve never had this reaction to a message before, actually, it was usually the opposite. Rolling your eyes, ignoring the men until the last moment. Only responding to keep them enticed and subscribed — all of which keeps more money in your pocket. That’s really why you started this whole thing anyway.

FlyingFish:

Hey

A puff of air exhales through your nose, a chuckle cutting the otherwise silent kitchen. Shaking your head to yourself, you can’t help but smile at your screen. Heartbeat fluttering, you internally kick yourself for having such a reaction to such a simple message. Not even knowing who this person is, you find yourself typing back a response.

Hey there Fish

Guess I never actually asked if I could call you that

You turn back to your task at hand, continuing to cook your dinner and attempting to put out of your mind all of your assumptions about this person messaging you. You’d guess it’s a guy, an educated inference based on the demographics of your audience, but everything else is a complete mystery. The one time he insinuated he had a big dick stuck in your mind, and based on his behavior, you’d like to assume he isn’t lying. An image of a man sticks out to you each time you whimper his nickname, on camera and that handful of times off camera and alone: tall, solid, and strong. Brunette, only because that’s your type. Rough hands and commanding touches. Someone to bend your stubborn will into submission. He’s confident, at least through the chat, and he seems to know what he’s talking about. Each time you see his username pop up, you can feel yourself start to get wetter. Since you started this whole gig, there hasn’t been anyone quite like him. It’s always people asking for more for them — Show us your tits. Say my name. Turn around so we can see your ass.

But with him, it’s the opposite. He asks for more for you, which you guess is what he gets off to, not that you mind. Bet one more finger would feel even better for you, baby. Curl your fingers, cariño. You reaching that special spot? Gotta get deeper for me, baby. Rub slower, drag it out. Promise it’ll be even sweeter at the end. 

Always polite but stern in his demands. Never too much, mostly not enough for your taste. He’s built up an appetite in you that you haven’t had before, a desire to please and to be good for him. All of it doesn’t feel like performing when he’s telling you what to do, it feels like he’s there, deep rasp in your ears as you picture thick fingers in place of yours and tight grips on your plush curves. Fingerprint-shaped bruises left behind and sore muscles in your thighs from holding yourself up as he asks you to come for him over and over and over.

A vibration against the hard surface of the countertop refocuses your gaze from a thousand yards away. Turning to grab your cell, you rub your thighs together in hopes of relenting the ache between them from your daydreams. Wet panties get caught in your folds, discomfort only momentary before you lean over the counter and open your legs, reading the mystery man’s response.

You can call me anything you want bonita

But I will tell you that Fish is pretty close to my name

Fish is close to your name?

What is it? Bass? Salmon? Trout?

Funny

Fish is short for Catfish which was my call sign with my Special Ops team

Ahhh a military man. You know I like a man in uniform

Oh really? :)

Don’t wear it anymore but does it still count if I was once a man in uniform?

Hmm

:( please?

I wanna be liked by you

Showing your cards there Fishie

Not trying to play it cool?

Once you get to know me baby you’ll come to find out that me and cool don’t really go together.

I doubt that’s true

So Catfish is your call sign? Who came up with that?

My buddies on my team

Said I couldn’t grow a beard for shit and that it looked like I had whiskers

So Catfish

Well I don’t wanna call you Fish if it’s mean like that :(

What’s your real name? If you wanna tell me

Are you gonna sell my identity and let someone tank my credit score?

Never

It wouldn’t benefit me much if your card gets declined every month

I appreciate the honesty baby haha

My name’s Frankie

I like your name Frankie :)

It’s nearly an hour of messaging back and forth, flirting intermingled with genuine curiosity about the other’s life, history and background. Frankie learns that you were struggling to find a job straight out of university and needed to make rent, so you figured it couldn’t hurt to try out selling content. You detailed briefly the time that you grew your following, telling him about your Instagram too, which he follows in that instant. The notification makes you laugh and you follow him back despite the profile being completely empty of any information besides his name. Not even a profile picture. He learns that you don’t speak much to your parents anymore, that your siblings live across the country so you don’t get to see them much.

He tells you about his family — no siblings, parents that live in another part of the state and refuse to visit him in the city — and his chosen family, the Special Ops guys. Laughter hiccups from your chest when he recalls a few of the better stories from them, telling you about each other them as if he was preparing you to actually meet them. He has that thought, briefly, about all of you out for drinks. How they would probably like you as much as he does; your charm and sincerity would hook them all just as it has for him. Frankie tells you all about his current hobby, fixing up an old, cherry red 1978 Jeep Cherokee. How the only other time he spends online is searching for car parts, watching Youtube as he works on the vehicle in his garage.

You make a cheeky comment that he must be good with his hands before sending another message immediately:

Would you wanna actually talk? Like on Facetime maybe

Frankie stares at the message, blinking slowly as if it will disappear. You’re asking to talk to him? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I mean, if he knew that was an option he would have asked himself…

He wouldn’t and he knows he wouldn’t based on the way his stomach has dropped to his feet, his hands have gone clammy and his throat tightened. Swallowing hard, he whispers a small pep talk to himself to work up the nerve to say yes. He wants to see you, he always wants to see more of you, but the fact that you’d see him as well…he can’t cope.

Heat trickles across the back of his neck and up his cheeks, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as his brain completely wipes any thought to respond. Dropping his phone into his lap, both of his hands reach up, one grabbing the brim of his cap and lifting it from his head while the other runs through his hair to push it back away from his face. In the corner of his eye, he catches his left knee bouncing. Lips press together in a thin line, rolling the flesh between his teeth before he picks up his phone again and sends a message back to you with just his phone number.

Not even a minute later, his screen lights up with a list of digits strung together in an unfamiliar order. As if it were possible, he felt his stomach drop lower than his feet, deep into the ground below and burrowing away along with his confidence.

Shit, this was a stupid idea. He’s going to make a fool of himself and you’ll lose interest and he’ll have to think about you every day for the rest of his life and wonder what you’re doing, how you’re doing, even what your name is—

Fuck, he’s gonna miss the call.

Frankie decides that it is much more embarrassing to miss the call he just sent his phone number for than to potentially come off as uncool, so his finger swipes to the right to answer. Quickly, he turns off his camera before you notice, opting for the level of anonymity to remain.

“Hi, Frankie…” Your candied voice drips with sweetness around his name. He’s been imagining you saying it, trying to get it right in his mind over the past few weeks, but hearing it now he relishes in the fact that none of them were right. None of them sounded like spun sugar, like it did just now.

You fill the frame from your shoulders up, the same bright smile on your face that he’s seen at the end of each live, after he’s had his fun with you, but looking completely different out of that context. It’s a bit shy, demure in the way you're resting in your bed against your pillows, t-shirt on and fresh-faced. You look beautiful. And it makes him feel a bit silly that you can’t see his reaction.

“Hey, bonita. M’sorry I don’t have my camera on, jus’ nervous. Didn’t want you to hang up right away gettin’ a look at this mug,” he says with self-deprecating laughter at the end, watching as your brows knit together with a pout on your lips.

“You don’t have to apologize, Frankie. M’happy to do whatever you’re comfortable with. Besides, if your voice gives me any indication of your looks, you’d probably be making me way more nervous.” Teeth bite into your bottom lip as you hold in a grin, a hand coming into view to nudge at your nose. He’s seen you do it a few times on live, whenever you’re waiting in anticipation. For him, he’d like to think.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he teases, the smirk playing at his face evident in his flirty tone.

“You jus’ sound…nice.”

“Nice? That’s all? Why would that make you nervous, baby?”

A sigh slips from your lips, rolling your head back as he hears the smallest whine from you. His cock jumps in his sweats, already half hard from the flirty back and forth in your messages.

“God, you’re going to be a problem with all those pet names,” you say exasperated. Frankie laughs at his screen, feeling like an idiot sitting here alone and smiling like a fool. You’re cute when you’re mad.

“You can tell me your name and I can use that instead?” he propositions, licking his lips as he awaits the piece of information he’s been chomping at the bit to have.

“No! I mean, I’ll tell you my name, but…I like the nicknames. Keep them. Please.” Your words scramble out and it makes him grin wider, witnessing you as nervous as he’s feeling. When you give him your name, he repeats it a few times, rolling it around in his mouth, tasting the syllables on his tongue. Delicate, floral, sweet but a slight tang. Smooth as it rolls across his vocal cords, soothing the rising heat he’s feeling with a refreshing chill. Like peaches and cream.

The two of you chat back and forth for a while, pride swelling in his chest when you laugh at his stupid jokes or give him a compliment, despite being none-the-wiser to his looks. He’s quick to make you blush with his comments, telling you how beautiful he thinks you are. And Frankie’s thanking himself for keeping his camera off, because at times during the call, his eyes drift to your chest, blatantly staring at your perked up nipples through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. It grows his hard on, the softness of your breasts bouncing around as you restlessly squirm during the call enticing him to picture getting his mouth on them. He’d guess you’d taste the same as your name.

The next time you move, he watches your chest again before a sight in the background catches his eye, drawing a chuckle from his mouth. A stuffed bunny lays next to you in your bed, messy with age and love. A soft pink color with a red ribbon tied around its neck, he finds the need to ask about it prodding in his mind.

“Is that who films everything for you?” he jokes, watching your face twist with confusion before looking to your side and bursting out in a laugh. Returning your eyes to the camera, you shake your head timidly.

“No, unfortunately he’s pretty limited to cuddling.”

“He? Didn’t know you had a man in your life, baby. Feels like we shouldn’t be talking like this in front of him.” The sound of your laughter quickens his pulse, the melody trilling in his ears with comfort.

“Well, I guess if you could offer me more than cuddling, he could be demoted.”

“I think I can offer more, Conejita.” Frankie watches as something akin to excitement, but burning brighter, flashes in your eyes. You sit up more, one eyebrow raising in challenge.

“What could you offer me, Frankie?” It’s a loaded question. He could be polite, steer the conversation away from where he so desperately wants it to go, to be a gentleman. It would be easy to make a joke, to get you both to move on.

But he always wants to see where this could go. You’re the one who wanted to talk on the phone in the first place. And he would never suggest anything to make you uncomfortable, and he thinks that you know that. It’s like what the two of you do in your lives — a conversation, a back and forth that may end up benefitting both of you.

“Depends on what you’re lookin’ for, Conejita. I’m a man of many talents.” The words are slick on his tongue, silvery with enticement.

“Hm…” you ponder out loud, tapping your index finger against your bottom lip before turning back to the camera, “Can you cook?”

“Decently. Can’t claim I’m a chef, but I feed myself. And m’pretty good at a grill and makin’ some of my mamá’s recipes. Insisted on teaching them to me so they didn’t end with her.”

Grinning warmly, he feels his heartbeat kick up against his chest, thumping hard at the sight of you giving him that look. “That’s so sweet that she taught you. You can teach me, then someone else in the world will know her recipes too.”

Christ, you’re so fucking adorable. He doesn’t know what he wants more in the moment: to keep talking and simply listen to your voice, or to flirt his way into something more.

“She might be a better teacher than me, baby. Would probably be over the moon if you asked to learn since she had to force me a bit,” he laughs along with your quiet giggle, taking a deep breath when you bite down on your bottom lip.

“Are you a good teacher of other things?”

“I’d like to think so. Haven’t I taught you new things already, Conejita?”

There goes his heartbeat when you look away from the camera, smirk lifting your cheekbones as your demeanor goes shy, shrugging your shoulders as you lay back again, shifting to get comfortable.

“You have…And now I’ve learned how sexy your voice is, too. I’ll be picturing everything you type now to be said in your voice.”

Frankie breathes out a chuckle, a heat burning the nap of his neck, trickling down his back. He feels the effects of his blood rushing below his belt, ever-so-slightly lightheaded as he quietly palms his bulge in his sweatpants.

“My voice is sexy?”

“Um, duh. Are you kidding me? You sound all…rugged and raspy and deep. Like you could manhandle me easily,” you admit your thoughts easily, and he sighs quietly at the thought of having you in front of him to throw around his bed and mold you into the positions he dreams of getting you into.

“No tienes ni idea de lo que haría contigo (You've got no idea what I would do with you)...” he mumbles under his breath, hearing a soft whimper from you. One of your arms is slung across your front, pressing your breast into the other and he can take a guess as to what your hand is up to. “You want some help, baby? I bet you’re jus’ feeling so needy, aren’t you? Listening to my voice got you that worked up?”

“Mhmm…I need it, Frankie…” Your voice has the edge of a whine and he exhales slowly as he hears you beg for him. Not his call sign or a username. His name. Him. There’s no one else who’s making you feel this way, no one else striving for attention.

He pushes his pants down, pulling his hard cock out to start slowly stroking. You’ve left him aching, dripping precum that his fingers smear around his length to lubricate as he moves up and down in a teasing pace.

“Use your manners, Conejita. What d’you say?”

“Please. Please, Frankie. I wanna hear your voice, I want you to tell me what to do.” He hisses from behind his teeth as he squeezes his cock at the base, leaning his head back against his headboard before his focus zeroes in on you on his screen, asking for his guidance, his control to get you off. No one else privy to the sights he’s seeing.

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me, baby. Why don’t you take off your shirt for me? Let me see you, bonita.” Wetting his lips with his tongue when you move to prop your phone up on your mattress, an expert at framing yourself perfectly. The thin, worn fabric of your sleep shirt slips over your head, leaving you on full display for him — already pantyless. Whether you started the call with any on is a mystery to him, but now, he settles back to tell you exactly what he wants from you…what he knows will feel good for his conejita.

“Okay, bunny, lean back for me…That’s it, get comfortable. Good girl.” Looking into your camera to your side, a nervous smile plays at your lips, shyness overcoming you as you wait with bated breath for Frankie, who’s still a mystery to you, to instruct you. It’s driving him mad, how trusting you are of him without ever seeing his face. Such a sweet girl. His sweet girl.

“Show me how you like to play when no one’s watching.”

When his phone dings one evening a few weeks later, Frankie pulls himself out from under the hood of his project car. A familiar fizz bubbles over his body, a Pavlovian response that’s been built over the last few weeks he’s been talking to you. There have been text chains, full of flirty sincerity, and more phone calls, all with his camera off but not all ending like that first one. There have been times when the two of you have had long conversations, full of laughter and learning about the other. A few calls have ended with you falling asleep, stuffed bunny tucked under your chin and pillowy lips parted slightly with deep, even breaths.

Admittedly, he’s grown attached. Maybe a bit much for…whatever this relationship or friendship is, but he can’t help the teenage giddiness he’s felt with every text chime, ringtone, or dial that he’s found you on the other end of.

He’s got a crush.

So immediately at the peal of his cell, he’s reaching for the rag on his workbench, wiping his hands clean of grease before reading over your message.

Conejita:

Hiii 😚

Are you busy?​

Grinning like a fool at the gray bubble, Frankie begins to type out a response before abandoning the message and clicking the phone button at the top of your name instead. Pressing the speaker to his ear, he runs a thumb across his bottom lip while he listens to the trill of the dial tone. Steps pace him across the garage, counting them in his head as he waits for an answer.

“Hey, stranger.” The line clicks on and your voice immediately draws a smile across Frankie’s face, hearing one of yours in your upbeat tone.

“Hey, Conejita. What’s up with you?” Even your presence over the phone calms his nerves, sparking kindling low in his gut that spreads down to his toes and up to the back of his neck. Frankie tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder as he wanders back over to the carhood, shutting it carefully. He retreats inside, washing his hands as he listens to you recount your day.

“...So then I got pissed off and left ‘cause she was being so unreasonable. And then I wanted to talk to you ‘cause, I dunno.” The intensity in your cadence slows down toward the tailend of your story of an argument with a friend of yours; Frankie chuckles, biting his tongue while you sigh deeply and he dries his hands off on a kitchen towel.

“You don’t know why you wanted to talk to me? Don’t get all shy on me now, cariño,” he teases you, receiving a frustrated huff on the other end. “Well, for what it’s worth, I agree with you. She sounds like she has a stick up her ass. And m’glad you wanted to call me, Conejita.”

“D’you wanna switch to Facetime?”

“‘Course, I do. Always wanna see your face, jus’ one sec…” Frankie climbs his stairs two at a time, reaching the landing as his screen lights up with the Facetime request from you. He answers it, camera off, while he changes out of dirty clothes and listens to you chatting about plans for the weekend. He mentions going out with the guys tomorrow night, and you make a jest that gets him laughing, both of you bantering back and forth before he settles back on his bed.

“Y’know, I am content to chat with you like this, Frankie. But I keep wondering what you look like…” In the small rectangle of his screen, you lean forward to fill more of it, cleavage exposed in your bralette. He’s been waiting for this to be brought up again, and feeling so much more comfortable with you, he can’t admit he hasn’t thought about it. But with that stronger connection comes the anxieties. What if he isn’t what you pictured? What if he isn’t your type? What if you don’t like him anymore?

Frankie thinks he’s decent looking enough — he hasn’t had much trouble pulling girls since he was a teenager, but not being the most commanding or charismatic in the room, he has had his bouts of struggle in the relationship department.

“Please, Frankie. S’not fair I get to hear your sexy voice and not know what you look like. Pretty please, I’ll give you something special if you do,” you bargain with a pout on your face, bottom lip protruding and puffy. He wants to kiss it away, bite down on the glossy flesh, work away your frowning moue with his own mouth. Wonderings of what you taste like.

Coming back into himself, he wears a proud, intrigued smirk that you’re blind to except for the way his words curl around his slick, silvery tongue, “Oh, is that right, bunny? What if I wanna know what the something special is to decide?”

“Not how it works, silly. Either you want something special or you don’t.” A stern shake of the head, sitting up straight as you raise an eyebrow at him.

He sits with it for a moment, thoughts warring on the inside. In the end, his realistic side barters that either way could end badly: he doesn’t turn the camera on and you get frustrated, ending it, or he does turn the camera on and you don’t like the look of him, ending it. A phantom whisper of your voice, bubbly and bright, reminds him that it could make everything even better, and that ultimately is what convinces him.

“Alright, alright. You make a convincing argument, Conejita.”

A beaming smile stretches across your face as you draw a leg up to your chest, resting your head on your kneecap while you hold back your excitement and anticipation. Frankie takes in the sight of you, astir on tenterhooks.

“Here goes nothing,” he mumbles to himself before his thumb is pressing the camera button, illuminating himself on your screen. He sees himself in the smaller rectangle in the corner, grimacing before he laughs softly and grins, awaiting your reaction with waves of solicitude raging inside.

You see him, your Frankie. Filling your phone screen. Finally.

A nearly inaudible gasp leaves your lips, blocked from the mic by your knee. Studying his face, you witness the lines next to his eyes deepening as he laughs, his shy smile growing on his face. Big brown eyes strike your chest, their sincere softness making you want to fall into their warmth and stay there forever. Like the comforting heat of a mug of coffee on a chilly morning. You note that your visualizations were correct, mostly. Brown hair, curling out from under the cap branded with Standard Oil that sits on his head. Wide set shoulders that extend out of frame, a build to him that screams he most definitely can manhandle you around in bed. His call sign makes a bit more sense to you, seeing patches in his short beard, admiring the one on his left cheek that is shaped like a heart. Simply endearing. The image of him in front of you sends a shock to your core, wet spot in your panties growing as you begin to imagine what the rest of him looks like.

Hot is all you can think. Frankie is fucking hot.

His voice cuts through your trails of admiration, joking around to break the silent tension, “So are you gonna ask me to keep my camera off now?”

As you swallow to recover some of your composure, shaking your head back and forth quickly before a genuinely eager smile paints your expression. Leaning closer to see more of his details, freckles across his neck and where his shirt exposes a sliver of his chest, the peak of his cupid’s bow shaded by his mustache, long eyelashes that reach toward his eyebrows. You drop your knee from in front of you, leaning an elbow on the surface of your desk and resting your shin in your palm.

“Frankie, respectfully, what the fuck? You’re so hot.”

A boisterous laugh rolls from his chest, the same shy smile returning with a blush across his cheeks, “Conejita, you’re the hot one between us.”

“No, no, I’m being serious. You’re like — Damn. Your smile. And you have pretty eyes, Frankie. And you’re just like…really fucking hot. I can’t even think of another word. You should be the one doing what I’m doing.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re only seeing my face, baby.”

“Yeah, and? It’s a pretty face…Wanna sit on it.” Your giggle cuts through his speakers, and Frankie groans at the comment. Saliva coats your mouth as you watch the muscles in his neck tense, licking your chops like a prowling lion. If only he was in front of you right now…

“Diablita…eres una problema. (Little devil…you’re a problem.) Do I get my special something now?”

Another giggle and a mischievous smirk make Frankie’s brows stitch together in frustration, your shoulders shrugging as you toy with the strap of your bra, hooked under your index finger, “Actually, I think I wanna move the goalpost. Will you show me what I’m missin’, Frankie? I wanna see more.”

Desire burns bright and wild inside of you, ache building between your legs as your arousal drips from your panties and onto your thighs. You’d been picturing him — all of him — for weeks. Ever since that first message. But now, seeing him on your phone screen, your imagination is running wild with newfound information and attempting to fill in the blanks. He has to be big, thickness would be just right. He’s the quiet type, unassuming in his own looks, which means he has to have a virtually perfect dick. It's the rules of the universe. Undecided if he’s cut or not, but regardless, picturing your manicured fingers wrapped around it and tongue licking at his tip. Watching him come undone from you. Stomach tensing, those long fingers that you sneak a peek of when he adjusts his hat wrapped up in your hair. Rasping moans. What would he taste like?

Frankie shakes his head, a quick tsking drawing your attention back to the moment as he looks on with a teasing expression, “Conejita, I don’t think it works like that.”

“Okay, then no special something for you. Your choice, Francisco.”

He watches as you move the strap back up your shoulder, the soft snap of the elastic against your skin. Huffing out a frustrated breath, he mumbles, “No serías tan valiente si estuvieras aquí conmigo, mocosa. (You wouldn’t be so brave if you were here with me, brat.)”

Uncaring in whatever annoyances he was airing with you, you watch him sit up further in the frame, knocking off his cap and reaching for the hem of his shirt. Despite his words, he lifts his shirt over his head, looking back at the camera, bare shoulders and chest on display, “This is what you get for now, bunny.”

Satisfaction glows from your smile, biting hard into your bottom lip while Frankie watches your eyes search everywhere on your screen besides his own. A stern clearing of his throat breaks your trance, a commanding expression on Frankie’s face.

“You promised me something, Conejita.”

A deep pout replaces your grin, huffing in defiance as you slip your bra straps from your shoulders, “Can’t you please take the rest off? Show me what I wanna see, Frankie. Please.”

“Nah uh. Quit demanding, baby. Y’know that’s my job. Now tell me, what are you gonna do for me to get what you want?” His unwavering voice surprises you, despite hearing it for weeks. With the added heat factor of his looks, you crumble a bit quicker, clenching your thighs as you sigh and nod obediently.

“I’ll do anything, Frankie. Jus’ tell me what to do, I wanna make you happy.”

He grins on the screen, sincere softness peeking out, “Oh, baby, y’know it’s easy to make me happy. Jus’ gotta be a good little bunny, yeah?” He hums, licking his lips as he ponders what he wants from you tonight, a night he wants to fill with another milestone for the two of you. He’s only seen you use a small vibrator or your fingers on the phone with you, but he knows what else you have. He’s watched the video of you using it on your profile only about ten times.

“Get your pretty pink toy for me, Conejita. Y’know the one. And then get on the floor and you’re going to show me exactly how you use it.”

There’s rustling as you follow his instructions, stripping bare and suctioning the toy to your hardwood floors, propping the phone up for him to see it all. The hot pink dildo bobbles from you moving around it, glistening with lube that you applied — even though with one glance at your cunt, both you and Frankie know you wouldn’t need it. Straddling over the silicone, you slowly tease your entrance with it, whining before you make one more attempt to Frankie watching you with a smugness in his smirk.

“Please, Frankie, can’t you please show me your cock? I wanna picture it while I fuck myself. Wanna know if it’s how I imagined…Dream about it a lot.” He can read right through your tactics, but his dick can’t. It strains against his zippered jeans, throbbing under the fabric for some sort of relief. He squeezes his palm over it once, exhaling as he shakes his head, strong in his convictions.

“Be a good girl, and I’ll show you what you wanna see.” No more room for negotiations.

“Yes’sir.”

Frankie’s mouth hangs ajar while his focus trains on the apex of your thighs. Watching you slowly sink down, the bright pink rubbery toy disappears inside of you. Whimpers slip from your lips as you brace your hands on your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin. Need burns brightly in his chest and below his belt, clenching his jaw while he imagines biting the meaty part of you, leaving teeth marks in his wake before settling his mouth at your entrance.

Your hips set a quick pace, desperate for the high you’ve been dripping for since getting on the phone with Frankie. A low growl followed with a disapproving tut clicks over the speakers of your phone.

“Slow down, baby girl. Not a race…” Frankie corrects, and the only response you have is a frantic nod, turning your movements to a drag. The toy fills you up, stretches you the most that you have ever been. Pain heats your feelings of pleasure, intensifying it all in the lightness of your limbs and head. The ridges of the faux veins of the fake cock impress into your walls, the tip of it notching at the spot inside of you that Frankie taught you to reach. It only skates by it, whines accompanying your frustrations.

Frankie, on the other end, listens to the squelch of your pussy around the silicone. The sound drives him to fully cup his erection through his pants, palming himself with heady breaths as your own moans for him drive the iron hot brand of need deeper into his skin. He can see your need for a change, your need to be given permission to chase that feeling that’s within reach.

“Lean back, little bunny. Sit back on your hands and use your hips…Show me more of that pretty pussy,” he instructs, cool and confident while his hips buck up into his hand. Being his perfect girl, you do as he says and change positions, gasping when you sink down onto the toy. Your cunt clenches around it, a satisfied smirk painting Frankie’s face. He knows he’s gotten you to hit that special spot. With the grip your entrance has around the base of the dildo, he wonders if you’ll pop it off of the floor on your next thrust.

“Oh, fuck…Frankie, wish you were here. Tell me—tell me what you’d do to me if you were here,” you beg, your hips still dragging at the new angle.

A groan escapes Frankie at your request, biting down hard on his lip and taking his hand away from his lap to deny himself the temptation.

“You love hearing me say all the dirty things to you, huh Conejita?” Without waiting for an answer, he continues, “If I were there with you, I’d would be—shit—I’d be devouring you right now. Fucking you with my tongue and my fingers, making you squeeze me and getting your come all over my face. Gotta get you ready for me, bunny. After, I’d flip you over. Get your pretty ass up for me, and I’d fuck you senseless. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Turn it all off up there and just let me take care of you…”

Nodding, your hips start to move faster as Frankie speaks to you. He doesn’t have the heart to tease you anymore, letting you start to take what you want for a bit. Your moans pitch up, tits bouncing with your nipples pebbled and the rest of your soft curves twisting as you rock back and forth on the toy.

“Yes, please. I want that,” you mewl, heavy breaths erratic.

“That’s right. My baby deserves it all,” he says with a sigh, his large palm squeezing his hard cock again, slowly unzipping his jeans and slipping his hand into his boxers to grip himself at the base. “I’d fuck you until that pretty little brain of yours was filled up only with thoughts of how good I make you feel. How good you are for me, pretty girl…Look at you go, bouncing on that toy. Rub your clit, Conejita. Slow, at least for right now.”

You follow his orders, supporting yourself on one arm. Slow circles against your clit have you shuddering with pleasure, a twitch of your tummy as you moan. Your eyes flutter shut, face twisting with overwhelming need. Frankie drinks in the sight, indulging himself in a few long strokes of his cock before he hears it.

“Daddy…” you breathe, near a whisper, but it’s audible to him. Lost in yourself, you don’t even notice you’ve let it slip until it comes again, “Oh my god, Daddy.”

The surprise of it shocks your eyes open, stuttering your hips as you narrow in on your screen. Frankie’s eyes grow dark, licking his lips as he holds in a loud moan. His fingers grip the base of his aching cock, holding off at the edge. So close to coming when he heard that word drip from your mouth like melted sugar.

He can tell you’re attempting to gauge his reaction, nervous settling in as you attempt to move on from it and continue fucking yourself closer to finishing. Frankie’s eager to take it in stride, clearing his throat before he gives it right back to you, opening that door that he knows won’t be shut any time soon. At least not by him.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Let Daddy tell you what you need, yeah?” He chuckles darkly, satisfaction thumping in his veins while you nod and whimper yes yes yes back to him, “Y’know, if you like that lil’ toy, baby, Daddy’s cock will feel even better. S’bigger than that fucking thing.”

“Oh, fuck, I need to—I need you, Daddy, please!”

“I know, Conejita, I know. Poor little thing jus’ needs Daddy to be filling her up, huh? You wanna know what my cock feels like inside of you, don’t you, pequeña?” He hisses with a buck of his hips into his fist, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second.

“Yes, yes, please, Daddy! Please,” you choke on a breath and Frankie can see you twitch at your inner thighs from the full-on view of your pussy, your tell-tale sign that you’re about to come.

“Y’know the rules, Conejita. Better ask before you come.”

“Please, please may I come?” you moan, rubbing faster circles against your clit and grinding down on your toy.

“Oh, bunny, you can ask nicer than that. May I come…?” he leads, smirking devilishly when you nearly squeal from the way he’s holding you out on the edge. Teetering on the verge of that high that he knows well, he can see your legs faltering with a cramp.

“Please may I come, Daddy?” Your eyes open, heavy-lidded and lips parted with shallow breathing. Frankie gets lost in the sight, wrecked from his direction, his words, a sheen of sweat over your skin and the arousal coating your thighs. A fucking dream.

“Mm, come for Daddy, baby girl—” he’s interrupt as you erupt in a high-pitched moan, mouth wide open as you string together mumblings Oh fuck, Daddy, feels so good. Need you so bad…

“Good girl.”

Frankie hums contently, chuckling as a dopey grin finds your face, blinking through the orgasmic haze. Laying back, you slip the toy out of your pussy, leaving it to wobble in place and spreading your legs around it. One arm comes to rest against your forehead, breasts rising and falling with deep, recovering breaths. He’s blocked of the view that would make this moment even sweeter, licking his lips before he speaks up.

“Lemme see that fucked cunt of yours, bunny. Let Daddy see what belongs to him.” You sit up again, popping the toy off of the floor and laying it to the side to be cleaned later. Frankie hums as you part your legs more, the glittering of your come dripping on your thighs and across your swollen pussy. “Eres un buen oyente, pequeña. (You’re a good listener, little one.)”

“What’s that mean?” you ask, a long exhale punctuating the question.

“You’re a good listener, little one.” Frankie grins when you grow shy, inching your legs together before he tsks again, one hand coming into frame to motion for your lower limbs to part again.

“Y’know, it would look even prettier with my come dripping out of ya, baby.”

“Please.”

“What, Conejita?”

“Don’t tease me anymore…Can’t take it, Daddy.” You lips push out in a pout, subtle but he can catch the change in expression.

“Nah uh, no pouting, bunny. Who said that I was teasing? I’m going to make it happen.”

Sweetness slips from your lips in a giggle, leaning over to pick up your phone and hold him closer to your face.

“So, if I was a good girl, doesn’t that mean I get to see what I asked for before?” Wiggling in eagerness, Frankie feigns ignorance, scratching at his beard as he shrugs, acting as if he didn’t nearly come in his pants multiple times in the last few minutes.

“I dunno, Conejita. What did you ask me for? Gonna have to remind me.”

“Your cock. I wanna see it.” Your pout sneaks back, biting your lip. “May I please see your cock, Daddy?”

“I think I could do that for you, baby. Asking so nicely. Such a good girl for Daddy, yeah?”

“Always.” A giggle bubbles up from your tummy, biting down on your lip as Frankie takes you in, shaking his head in subtle disbelief. How the hell did clicking for one subscription get him here, having Facetime sex with you?

He obliges your original requests, moving to prop his phone up in front of him, stripping down his jeans first. The sight of his bulge waters your mouth, pupils widening in want at the outline of his cock. No tricks of the light, no chance of manipulation like some men in your DMs do. All natural.

And Frankie wasn’t lying. He’s big.

The reveal comes when he tugs his boxers down to his ankles, settling in front of the camera again. His heavy length rests against his lower stomach, precum dripping into his dark happy trail. Your eyes drag over the veins ribbing him, leading down to show off that he’s tastefully groomed. Swallowing saliva, you lick your lips as his large hand wraps around, slow strokes that gently shift the foreskin away from his tip. The end of his cock glistens with pebbles of precum, red and aching. Frankie hisses at the contact, the veins in his neck straining against his skin while he starts to fuck his fist.

“You look so pretty, Daddy,” you compliment sweetly, grinning at him as he laughs quietly back at you.

“Such a sweet little bunny. You think you can take me in your tight little cunt?” A long exhales concaves his chest, quiet moans as his hand picks up pace. 

You return his regular favor of talking him through it, detailing how good of a girl you’d be for him, telling him all that he would be allowed to do to you. The sounds Frankie makes has you dripping again, getting his permission to fuck your fingers, both of you driving each other to a peak, your second one taking the breath from your lungs as Frankie comes at the same time. Whimpers escape your mouth as you envy his hand and stomach being covered in his release, biting your tongue and crowding the screen as he shows off how much you made him come.

“Wish I was there to clean you up, Daddy.”

“Right back at you, Conejita.”

A few days later, Frankie calls you after one of your livestreams, grinning like a schoolboy when you answer in only your underwear. You laugh as you set your phone down on the surface of your dressing, his childish smirk turning to a pout as he stares at your white painted ceiling. Calling out to him, you ask for one second while you tug a sweatshirt over your head, shuffling around before grabbing the device and relaxing back on your bed, bunny in your lap.

“Hi, baby,” Frankie coos, one side of his mouth lifting in a smile as he drinks in your cozy, drowsy demeanor. Cuddling with the toy against your chest, you grin back at him, curling up onto your side like a cat.

“Hi, Frankie,” you mumble back, exhaustion heavy in your eyes.

“You sleepy, little bunny?” A slow nod answers his question. “Alright, I won’t keep you up for long then. Just had a question for you.”

The vague proposition piques your interest, your eyes shooting open and the camera being brought closer to your face, “What’s your question?”

Frankie works his lips between his teeth, nerves crackling over his entire body. Realistically, he knows you’ll say yes, but there’s still that chance for rejection in the moment. His left leg bounces against his couch, hand running over his face as he takes a deep breath in, “I was wondering if you’d wanna come visit me here in Florida? If you don’t have time—”

“I would love to come visit, Frankie,” you agree immediately, a sincere smile growing on your face. Frankie mirrors your excitement with a goofy grin, the creases next to his eyes deepening and his dimple cratoring his cheek. “I’ll even book my flight right now, that’s how eager I am.”

Shaking his head furiously, he clicks his tongue in a tut, scolding you playfully, “Hey, hey. No, none of that. I’m not letting my baby pay, I’m the one who asked you to come.”

“But—”

“Nope, no buts. Except yours getting onto a plane and coming to see me,” Frankie laughs at his own joke, earning a playful eye roll as you hold back your own chuckle. “Oh, c’mon, that was funny, Conejita. I can tell you want to laugh.”

The two of you go back and forth while he books your flight on his laptop, showing off the confirmation number once it’s all gone through. Both of you wear shit-eating grins on your faces, sitting in disbelief.

Frankie can’t help the rush of anxiety, unable to tell if it’s solely from his excitement. All he can think about is having you in front of him, in the flesh, in person. No screens between the two of you, no broken signals or shitty wifi interruptions. Hearing your voice without the strain of speakers, getting to touch you, taste you, hear you, feel you all over him. There’s the flash of a vision of you laid out underneath him, making your little sounds that drive him crazy and digging your nails into his back…

“Gonna let Daddy spoil you while you’re down here, baby girl?” Frankie smirks as you stretch sleepily, biting down on your lip.

“You’re flying me out, isn’t that spoiling me enough? Shouldn’t it be my turn to spoil you then?”

“Think you know the answer to that, baby. Having you in front of me is spoiling me enough, I jus’ wanna take care of you.” 

The simple statement brings a smile to your face, shyly tucking your face into your pillow. The rest of the call relaxes you back to near sleep, listening as Frankie tells you all about what he’ll take you to do. Your drowsiness catches up with you, drifting off on the phone. Frankie chuckles quietly to himself, sitting with you for a moment silently before he goes to hang up.

“Night, Conejita. Can’t wait to see you.”

taglist: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @vee-bees-blog @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @cartoon-garbage04 @nostalxgic @ravenpoe67

[saturnianoracle]

Whole Signs v Placidus - which house system is better?

Ah yes, ye age olde debate... which house system to use?

When first getting into astrology, the majority will use the placidus house system whether or not they know it. Placidus is the default for modern/ pop astrology; every chart generation website automatically uses it. Nowadays, the most common runner up house system to placidus is Whole Signs (often used by traditional/hellenistic astrologers). Yet, there are many house systems...:

➔Whole signs ➔Placidus ➔Koch ➔Equal/ Equal (MC) ➔Porphyry ➔Regiomontanus ➔Morinus ➔Alcabatius ➔Campanus ➔Meridian ➔Vehlow ➔Meridian

In this post, however, I will give my own argument on why I use whole signs and why I disagree with placidus. If you disagree with me thats fine, but I hope to at least educate on how these house systems even work and the deeper meaning behind why using whole signs is improtant.

»»-------¤-------««»»-------¤-------««»»-------¤-------««

First, how does Placidus work?

The ascendant (as well as the dsc, mc, ic) is a mathematical point based on the on the sign on the Eastern horizon. Placidus works by marking the cusps of the houses into two-hour intervals starting from the time of your birth. This is then pushed every 2 hours for the 12th 11th 10th 9th 8th and 7th house cusps ( because by the 7th house cusp it has completed 6/6 of its daily solar arc ) and then mirrored for the houses below (already an...interesting method). It is a quadrant system.

How does Whole Signs (WS) work?

Whole signs is not a time based system like Placidus. Whole signs split the houses into equal 30 degree segments, much like how the zodiac signs are split, so each house is equal in size and all the signs start at 0 degrees. The ascendant point, MC, IC, and DC float within the house instead.

Main issues:

Historical

➥The maths for this was laid out by Ptolemy for the purpose of understanding primary directions, of which most people now believe was actually used to predict lifespan - not for a house system. And then eventually an astrologer called Abraham ibn Ezra interpreted Ptolemy's works as a house system which Placidus then came along and validated. ➥During the 17th century British astrologers took this and ran. The Church did not like Placidus' works and so the astrologers essentially pushed the system as revenge against the Church/a big F you to them, making it the popularised system to use. This sacrified accuracy. Placidus rests on a foudnation not even designed to be a house system in the first place which creates a lot of problems as we will see below. P.S. I would HIGHLY recommend reading this article on the popularisation of placidus for a more indepth, better explanation.

Functional

➥Placidus simply falls apart at extreme latitudes (which people ARE born at). Take this chart for example:

Is everyone born at extreme latiudes suddenly inherently special for having such a chart where the houses are so vastly unequal and inutile in size? How does one go about interpreting the significance of this? Houses are literally swallowed up/duplicated or are massive or tiny. Just because your houses might not change so much in WS or placidus does not mean its still valid - a house system has to work for everybody universally. In WS however:

This works and makes SENSE. It is not an issue of being able to interpret the so-called intercepted house (which placidus has the issue of as the maths for it was never intended to be a house system in the first place) or not, it is about being accurate in how to read a chart. ➥Notice how in the placidus chart it appears the ascendant is in the 12th house. This is another visual issue with placidus, for instance apps like CoStar will even tell you that your ascendant is in the 12th house... Placidus or not though the ascendant is always in or at the first house, the ascendant can never be in any other house - the 1st house is literally YOU. The cusps just looked messed up because of the intercepted houses. And chart generating platforms like CoStar relying on placidus mess up even further...

➥ Intercepted houses mean a sign/s is "swallowed up" and doesn't influence any house cusp, which contradicts the principle that every zodiac sign has a clear role in the chart (every house and sign matters whether or not a house is empty etc). The idea that a sign is somehow blocked or inaccessible is untrue, whether or not you think it relates to you (certain aspects in your chart for explain that feeling when read properly rather than this, either way astrology does not care about how you feel or how you wish your chart was; many people get upset that their sun sign moves from the 5th to 6th house for example in WS).

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Rebutting common arguments for placidus

"Whole signs doesn't take into account the rotation and curvature of the earth!"

✣First, as explained above, WS houses remain consistent regardless of the observer's latitude, avoiding the distortions and inaccuracies systems like Placidus introduce, particularly at extreme latitudes. WS houses rely on the zodiac's natural, unchanging divisions, which are independent of the Earth's curvature and geographic location (as explained in this post), providing consistent and straightforward house boundaries. ✣WS matches the universe's system. The signs, and therefore the houses are all about the sun rising from zero (its declination/ going from 0 degrees of whatever sign up till 29 and into the next) as the system follows every 30 degree section of the ecliptic , and correlates with the length of the sign's period. If the ascendant involves the ecliptic meeting the horizon , the ascendant point is a specific coordinate that is located within the first house whose cusp starts at 0 rather than marking the beginning of the cusp. Why should the house system not match what is going on above from which we observe and practise.

"Why not a time-based system if astrology is all about predictive techniques and seems so time sensitive?"

✣ Time doesn't exist in space in the same way it does here, time is just our tool to pinpoint moments against a measurement from which we can organise things (generally speaking). Time is, however, crucial for predictions only in how translate what happens up there to below, less so for diving the sky which is basically already divided for us. ✣ Time-based divisions, like placidus, introduce unnecessary complexity without adding real astrological value, as the essential qualities of the houses are fully captured by the zodiac's natural 30-degree segments in WS anyway as explained above.

"The MC and IC cannot be in houses which are not 10th and 4th!"

✣ Yes they can, this is quite straightforward. In WS, the IC can be in the 2nd-6th house and MC in 8th-12th (extremely rarely it can be in the 1st/7th house too). It is a floating mathematical point (like the asc and dsc) and does not mark the beginning of the 4th house and 10th house cusps like in Placidus. ✣ This is because the MC is the point where the sun culminates at its highest position in the sky at a given location, corresponding to the local meridian. The IC is directly opposite, marking the lowest point below the horizon. The MC and IC are not tied to the zodiac signs but are based on the intersection of the ecliptic (the Sun's apparent path) with the meridian line of the observer's location. This intersection varies based on the time of birth and latitude, and these points can occur at any degree of the zodiac. Because WS houses are aligned with the zodiac signs and the MC/IC are specific points along the ecliptic, the MC and IC can fall at different degrees that don't align with the 10th and 4th house cusps. ✣ This adds more nuance to readings. For instance, if the MC is in the 9th house instead of the 10th, it might indicate that one's career/public life/legacy/how they come off is strongly influenced by 9th house themes like higher education, travel, or philosophy. Thus, they add more information to how 10th and 4th house themes manifest. ✣ Here is a must-read article if you want more information (thorough analysis of MC/IC through the houses) on this topic: Patrick Watson- What To Do When the Midheaven Is Not in the 10th Whole Sign House.

Ending thoughts

People find it difficult to move on from placidus because they think their placidus charts makes complete sense/they resonate deeply with it/ they simply prefer their house placements in placidus to WS. All this is because of, for lack of better wording, a skill issue. You think it makes more sense but thats because you don't actually know how to properly delineate a chart - end of. And that's fine, astrology is complex and interpretation requires a lot of practise and deep study, especially into hellenistic works for a richer understanding of astrology.

Using placidus makes readings and your understanding of astrology unnecessarily complex and undermines the true art of chart intepretation, allowing for pop astrologers to import their own 'psychological' analysis, for instance, onto you via astrology - a deep misuse. Astrology has never been about psychologically explaining yourself - it is a map of your entire life of which you will not always 'relate' to, especially at different points in your life because those energies simply won't be pertinent/obvious when we are 5 vs 50 for example. I have spoken about the problems of using "resonating" to determine the accuracy of your astrological studies in my introductory post already, but it is a point which keeps needing to be re-emphasised.

The Whole Sign system is the oldest of all house systems, used effectively by ancient astrologers for thousands of years. It provides consistent and reliable results, particularly in predictive work, without the unnecessary and inaccurate complications introduced by varying house sizes and interceptions. If you want to use profection charts for instance, or many other traditional techniques, placidus will not work.

Placidus (as well as modern rulerships and the ABC house system which I will make posts on later) will take a while to unlearn - it certainly took me a long time to adjust out of the grips of modern pop culture's inaccurate and misleading yet addictive astrology. This is okay. But at the end of the day, wrong is wrong no matter how you try to justify it.

However, it is your personal choice. Posts like mine can only hope to encourage you to explore the deeper layers of astrology. Things like WS can take a while to accept, or you may never accept it - but as long as you make that decision fully informed. Yours sincerely, an ex-Placidus user xoxo

[cosmicpuzzle]

7th Ruler and Meeting Spouse

So on request from one of my follower, I decided to make this post. It is not necessary that the house placement of 7th ruler must always indicate the environment or how you meet them.

Sometimes, the house location of Venus or Jupiter can work. Sometimes even the sign placement of Venus or Jupiter can indicate where you meet spouse. So you need to apply this with judgment.

7th Ruler in 1st : In traditional societies, a classic arranged marriage where bride and groom meet in presence of family. Sometimes you may know the person from childhood, like they are your relative or stayed in same house as you did. In western world, this can mean your spouse sees you somewhere and then approaches you for marriage.

7th Ruler in 2nd: This can mean again a marriage arranged by your family. Even in western societies, this can mean your family has selected one particular person already, may be they are your family friend from childhood or your family does business with their parents and they take over etc..may meet them at work too or when you go to bank or shopping.

7th Ruler in 3rd : This can mean marriage through matrimony or newspaper classifieds in traditional societies. In western world, can men through dating apps, all kinds of social media. You may meet them as team mates at office. You travel to a seminar or lecture and meet them there. You may meet at school, college, places of learning or your friends/siblings introduce you to them. They may be friends of friends.

7th Ruler in 4th: This can mean an arranged marriage by family in traditional societies. You may marry a relative too or someone known to your family circle. They may be distantly connected to your family. you may marry someone from your childhood, so someone you went to school with and later you propose them. Similar to 2nd house at times. You may also meet at office.

7th Ruler in 5th: This can mean you meet your spouse at a very young age like 7 to 10 years as 5th house is children. So you may meet them in school, playgrounds or they were your neighbors when you were a kid. Can meet at social parties, places of fun , drama theatres, magic shows, exhibition, political events, theme parks for children, children birthday parties etc.

7th Ruler in 6th: This can mean you meet them at work, you may meet at supermarket, gym, when you visit a doctor, or places where animals are cared for like PETA, medical shops, relief camps, donation places, NGO's etc.

7th Ruler in 7th: This can mean a formal arranged marriage. You may meet at foreign places or at weddings, social events or through your business partners.

7th Ruler in 8th : Nothing specific, you may meet them during emergencies or they come into your life suddenly out of nowhere like friends turning into lovers which you didn't plan for or marrying your friend's spouse after they get divorce..may be when you go to a funeral, you may meet at night clubs, forbidden places or they may be introduced when you get some therapy like they are your psychiatrist friend or your astrologer's friend. An astrologer may even give hints about your spouse. someone who may have had marriage already. You may also meet at places related to money like insurances, taxes, bank loans etc.

7th Ruler in 9th: You may meet them at college, university, when you pursue bachelors or masters. You may meet at religious places like temple or church or when you go to a pilgrimage. Sometimes this can also mean a marriage based on law like court marriage, you may meet at a trial, you may meet when you go abroad or you meet a foreigner online.

7th Ruler in 10th : You may meet them at work, in context of your job, or your boss introduces you to them, I have seen some cases where the person was personal assistant to boss and then they got married later, you may meet through business conferences or at Government offices, may be you need to renew some Govt. document etc.

7th Ruler in 11th: You may meet them over internet, dating apps, matrimony websites, business meetings or through professional colleagues. They may be your friend initially and becomes lover later. You both may have common friends. If you do business, then in context of advertisements, promotion campaigns etc, They may even be a celebrity.

7th Ruler in 12th: You may meet in foreign lands, when you go abroad, in hospitals, airports. I have seen one case, the guy was a travel agent and booked tickets for his client and went to airport to send off his client and met his wife there as she was client's sister. Meeting could be destined or fated in some way.

Book your Spouse Reading now. DM here.

[angeltreasure]

Catholicism Masterlist

NOTE:::: Items highlighted in red are my favorites for learning Catholicism.

Books for Learning Catholicism:

The Word on Fire Bible

Catechism of the Catholic Church second edition (pdf here)

Catholic Faith Handbook For Youth by Brian Singer-Towns and other contributors (pdf here)

Books About Prayer:

The Liturgy of the Hours by Word on Fire

The Secret of the Rosary by St. Louis de Montfort

The Rosary for the Holy Souls in Purgatory by Susan Tassone

10 Wonders of the Rosary by Fr. Donald Calloway, MIC

The Memorare Moment by Rev. Francis Joseph Hoffman

Blessed Sacrament Prayer Book edited by Bart Tesoriero

Heart of the Christian Life: Thoughts on Holy Mass by Pope Benedict XVI

Meet the Witnesses of the Miracle of the Sun by John M. Haffert

Our Father: Spiritual Reflections by Pope Francis

The Prayers & Personal Devotions of Mother Angelica, introduced & edited by Raymond Arroyo

Books About Saints:

Lives of the Saints: For Everyday in the Year by Fr. Alban Butler

Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska - Divine Mercy in My Soul by St. Maria Faustina Kowalska

Send Me Your Guardian Angel by Fr. Alessio Parente

Forty Dreams of St. John Bosco: From Saint John Bosco's Biographical Memoirs by St. John Bosco

Saint Charbel by Paul Daher

Mornings With St. Thérèse by St. Thérèse Editor: Patricia Treece 

The Secret of Mary by St. Louis de Montfort

The Confession of St. Patrick by St. Patrick

Saint Rafqa the Lebanese Nun (1832-1914) Teacher of the Generations and Patron Saint of the Suffers Father Elias Hanna (L.M.O.)

Rediscover the Saints by Matthew Kelly

Other Books:

The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

7 Secrets of Confession by Vinny Flynn

Our Grounds for Hope by Archbishop Fulton Sheen

How to Share Your Faith by Bishop Robert Barron

How to Discern God’s Will for Your Life by Bishop Robert Barron

An Exorcist Tells His Story by Gabriele Amorth

This Is My Body by Bishop Robert Barron

Apps:

EWTN

Relevant Radio

Formed

iBreviary

CatholicTV

Mass Times for Travel

Websites:

EWTN

Relevant Radio

The Divine Mercy

Word on Fire

The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB)

Some social media:

Bishop Robert Barron

Divine Mercy

Breaking in the Habit

Sensus Fidelium

EWTN

Sacred Music:

Harpa Dei

Floriani

Groups:

The Association of Marian Helpers

Rosary Confraternity

Brown Scapular

Adoration Sodality of the Most Blessed Sacrament

What really happens at a Catholic Mass, short film

— —- —— — —- —— — —- —— — —- ——

This is by no means a complete list because I keep reading more books and finding new resources as a pilgrim in this life. Maybe you’ll find something here to help you grow in faith. May God bless you abundantly.

[sev-arts]

What the webcomic is and why YOU should be reading...

(i.e. a promotional post by the Author @sev-wildfang/@sev-arts herself)

The story of how vampires used Christianity ahem, The Church to enslave humans and steal their Souls, and one sexy Devil's quest to reclaim them... repossess them in a way... if only there was a catchy two-word phrase for that

Starring two trans women who put on the horns and skin of Demons to fight the power - homophobes get pummeled, transphobes get zapped, fascists are blown to smithereens, and at least one alpha male grifter gets his mojo permanently turned off.

Your new blorbos: Reah, orphanage escapee and former nun on a quest for revenge, and Tabitha, ex-cop drag queen on the path of atonement

Will they? Won't they? Can they settle their differences and work as a team? Will the past they thought they had left behind come back to haunt them?

Tasteful amounts of graphic nudity and bloody violence, language that does not sugarcoat social stigmas around gender diversity, and frequent use of hateful language by characters who would say those kinds of things IRL too - this is a comic for readers 18+ ONLY *

Rendered in gorgeous black and white ink and select splashes of color, entirely hand-lettered, with labyrinthine detailing that make every single page worth dwelling on, with hidden extras to find - the Devil's in the Details!

Alluring nonstandard panel layouts inspired by stained glass windows, photo collages, fever dreams, art nouveau advertisements, underground comix, etc.

An astonishing archive of over 750 pages as of now (JUN 2024)

Seriously, look at them:

Where can YOU read this comic right now?

On its ComicFury site

On its tumblr mirror @souls-foreclosed

On its own website

Technically you could buy the physical books off of me, but you wouldn't be reading a web-comic then

Paging @readwebcomicsgdi for some extra eyes on this!

* You'd be surprised how difficult this comic is to host online with any sort of reach these days. Tapas (mobile app) and WebToon don't want it. And that's not even getting into the fact a lot of platforms treat ANY kind of trans content as sexual and unwanted in the first place.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

How come some people think fanfic is a new thing? I mean isn't it why every mythology and legend always have multiple versions of a story? I'm pretty sure for some ancient stories only the fanfic version survived and being passed down over thousands of years because the storytelling was better than the "official" one :DDD. Have a great weekend, Steph! Hearts and hugs!

Hey Nonny!

LOL beats me... Fandom predates ALL of us... if you REALLY want to get pedantic, churches display fanart of the Bible *shrugs*. I mean there was fanfic of Sherlock under a different name while ACD was still alive to get around IP and copyrights. I was getting fanfics from Usenet boards before forums and geocities websites in the 90s, and then from FFNet in the early naughts. Like it's not a new concept at all.

I think the problem is, it seems, (at the risk of sounding like a millennial who prefers "old internet") the... uh... the way misinformation is spread so wildly in this social media age, and garbage apps like tiktok providing instant gratification, and in turn no one wanting to research for themselves so if it's not fed through an algorithm, then it's "stupid".

AO3 certainly "popularized" fanfiction for the mainstream audience, but it's been around forever.

[sincerely-sofie]

Hi all! My name is Sofie and I'm on a quest for sincerity :>

Figured it was time for an updated pinned post, so here it is! Find out what the point of this blog is, who the heck is this Sofie lady, what I'm focusing on right now, and what's up next below the cut!

About this Blog: What is it for?

Challenging myself to be authentic and unafraid of being seen as "cringe" or "annoying"

Creating a record of my education, both formal and informal

Keeping a log of my various projects and their progression

Collect productivity hacks and inspiring quotes from others

About Me: Who am I?

I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints

I'm an online college student in a program for learning web development and programming

I'm interested in game dev, 3D and 2D animation, Android app development, making webcomics, writing novels, ASL, and working to improve myself

I like sage green, muted pastel pink, bugs, hot chocolate, kawaii future bass music, video essays, Ooblets, and Animal Crossing

I have a bit of a problem with staying on track with my goals, so this blog is a way for me to hold myself accountable!

What I'm up to Right Now:

Reading Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery

Uploading The Present is a Gift (PMD2 AU fanfic)

Fighting to reach inbox zero (it's a struggle)

Developing a personal website to showcase my interests and projects

What's Coming up Next:

Making a video game

Making oodles of personal art

100 Days of Code

What's Finished up Recently:

Editing TPiaG. It's now being uploaded!

Following along with some online courses. It was tough, but I did it, and I'm excited to take more!

[that-gay-jedi]

I promise I'll stop with my aging anticapitalist yells at cloud type posts after this one but like. Hear me out.

So I've been trying to wean off Audible for their accursed business practices, right? And I use Libby but 10 audiobooks only lasts me like 1 week if I pick long ones, so I'm like some kind of library werewolf who only borrows digital content for the full moon or someshit, ok?

So until my beloved wife NewPipe comes back from the war I've been listening to yt on Firefox, right? Well.

Yt is so determined to enshittify that if you don't disable the yt app (because you can't uninstall it which IMHO means it's officially, inarguably and forever bloatware now) it will open the app instead of the webpage with so little fanfare that if you aren't intentionally watching for it you won't even notice the window shift.

And like. I'm watching like 90 minute lectures from random professors from schools I'll never see giving talks to like 10 people in forgotten university backrooms or for like the anniversary of some church regarded as architecturally significant or as part of winning academic awards I've never heard of etc.

Some of these videos are from like 2013 and you can almost garauntee the speaker uploaded it or agreed to have it filmed + uploaded specifically because they wanted more people to hear their presentation than could or would be present when they originally made it. When you're nerdy about something you usually want to share it, these aren't YouTube Personalities(tm), they're sharing the obscure joys of their phD with losers like me who can't go to school.

You have to wonder if they would have chosen a different platform or gotten a website of their own to put it up on or something if they'd known their lectures, and I mean some of them are putting up entire 10+ hour courses recorded in their own classrooms for FREE solely because they wanted to and could, would become so thoroughly affected by corporate bullshit.

Most lecturers promoted nothing or at most namedropped their own book like once, but their work is now so thoroughly ad-ridden and Schrodinger's paywalled* as to become unwatchable without a bit more spite and tech flexibility** than should be required when the whole point was to share the fucking thing.

Some of those who uploaded content have long since stopped, whether because they've already put up everything they wanted the public to see or because, and in some cases some of them were not at all young in 2008, they've gone on to the big classroom in the sky. Which makes retroactively barriering something they taught freely seem awfully ghoulish if you ask me.

* You know how like, you technically CAN watch videos free on vanilla yt but you can't minimize the window or do anything else with your screen while they're playing? That's the kind of scumbag plausible deniability I'm calling Schrodinger's paywall.

** While it doesn't require much tech savviness to switch to ff or use a frontend for yt, the fact that it requires any at all goes against the spirit of sharing. Your grandma's grandma who remembers party landlines and had to be cajoled to even get a flip phone should be able to ask you "Can you show me that video again with the nice young man talking about the Odyssey?" (the young man is in his 60s) and watch it on a 1995 tower pc with a CRT monitor if she damn well pleases.

[partisan-by-default]

During a conversation on the “War on Technology” at Benton, Louisiana’s Cypress Baptist Church — unearthed by X user Receipt Maven last week — the Louisiana representative talked about how he installed “accountability software” called Covenant Eyes on his devices in order to abstain from internet porn and other unsavory websites.

“It scans all the activity on your phone, or your devices, your laptop, what have you; we do all of it,” Johnson told the panel about the app.

“It sends a report to your accountability partner. My accountability partner right now is Jack, my son. He’s 17. So he and I get a report about all the things that are on our phones, all of our devices, once a week. If anything objectionable comes up, your accountability partner gets an immediate notice. I’m proud to tell ya, my son has got a clean slate.” 

[santmat]

Vegetarian Christianity: No Fishes With Their Loaves - Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcast 

The earliest references to the story of Jesus Feeding the Five Thousand do not include any mentions of fish, only bread. The early church father Irenaeus, writing between 180 and 188 AD, does not say anything at all about the fish, only bread in connection with this Miraculous Feeding of the Multitude as if the gospels he was reading at the time didn't include anything about fishes with the loaves. The historian Eusebius, Arnobius, and several other early Christian writings also never include anything about "fishes" with the loaves, only the loaves, only the bread. It was originally an account about people being given bread. This has lead to some, including Keith Akers, author of the book, The Lost Religion of Jesus: Simple Living and Nonviolence in Early Christianity (also see his wonderful scholarly book, Disciples), to conclude that the making of this popular miracle story into a fish tale must have taken place sometime after Irenaeus and 188 AD. After that date must be when the final edit took place, when fish got added to the story about the Feeding of the Five Thousand, transforming it into the more familiar Sunday School version people are acquainted with. Today, we examine the case of the missing fish, as well as textual variations between different manuscripts of the New Testament, including the spectacular example of a vegetarian saying of Jesus present in the Old Syriac-Aramaic Evangelion Da-Mepharreshe manuscripts of the Gospel of Luke but not present in the Greek manuscripts. This is another installment in a series of podcasts documenting the vegetarianism of the original Jesus Movement, also known as the Ebionites, Nasoraeans, grandchildren of the Essenes, Hebrew Christians, The Apostles, the Disciples, Christianity-Before-Paul: the folks in the early church Paul was arguing with about diet, including James the Just of Jerusalem.

Vegetarian Christianity: No Fishes With Their Loaves - Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcast - Listen and/or Download @:

https://traffic.libsyn.com/spiritualawakeningradio/No_Fishes_With_the_Loaves.mp3

@ the Podcast Website With Buttons That Go To All the Popular Podcast APPS - Wherever You Follow Podcasts:

https://SpiritualAwakeningRadio.libsyn.com/vegetarian-christianity-no-fishes-with-their-loaves

@ Apple Podcasts:

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/vegetarian-christianity-no-fishes-with-their-loaves/id1477577384?i=1000633969339

@ Spotify:

https://open.spotify.com/episode/5t7LWvpTRl51ztPA8FUBpP

@ Audible & Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/Spiritual-Awakening-Radio/dp/B08K561DZJ

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In Divine Love (Bhakti), Light, and Sound, At the Feet of the Masters,

James Bean

Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcasts

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A Satsang Without Walls

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[sapphosremains]

Hi! I’ve been religious my whole life, but I’ve been feeling the urge to become more dedicated lately. I pray most nights (sometimes I forget) and I feel I have room in my heart and life for Jesus. I was wondering if you have any tips for ways to incorporate faith into your life in more tangible ways? Like, ways that are harder to forget. Like a prayer book or anything like that. Little ways, you know?

I’m sorry if this was too vague!! I can elaborate if it’s helpful.

hey anon!

that’s so lovely, i’m so glad to hear it, and it sounds like you’ve got amazing practices already. if forgetting is an issue (definitely was for me), it’ll definitely get easier with routine as you build a habit, and also as you grow your relationship with God it’ll become something you feel that longing to do, so you’ll forget less. for now, reminders could definitely help if praying every day is a practice you want to start.

i’ll answer this as non-denominationally as i can - also as i’m anglocatholic i'm a lot more varied in my practices, so take what you want and what works for your faith, and don’t worry if something doesn’t work at all!

in terms of daily prayer, i would really recommend the book of common prayer! different denominations use different editions - i go to a church of england church, so i use the same BCP edition as the cofe, which is the 1662 version, for example. that version, and a contemporary version, can be found in an app called ‘daily prayer’, as well as on the cofe website, and i’m sure other places. apps and websites like that find things like the psalms, lessons, and collects for you, otherwise you can use a physical or digital bcp alongside a bible, lectionary, and collect book to find the appropriate things to put in. it sounds complicated but if you start with an app or website that does it for you you’ll understand quickly! i like to read the psalms and readings from my bible, just using the app to find them, because it feels best for me. eventually i’ll graduate to using a physical bcp book when im brave enough! if you’d like more info on praying the daily office using the bcp or other material lmk bc i spent ages researching trying to understand how to pray with it :)

another thing i do is keeping a bible on me 99% of the time. as i used to go to an anglican school, we received the new testament and psalms when we started secondary school in a tiny little book, which is super easy to carry around.

if you’d like to incorporate prayer into your life more generally, i’d suggest improving your instinct to turn to god. one thing i’ve always struggled with is blaspheming, always going ‘oh my god!’ whenever something went wrong. i saw a really good tip (please shout anyone if you know who said this!) that suggested to turn any ‘oh my god’ etc of anger into a genuine prayer. instead of frustration and blasphemy, use that opportunity and reminder of Him to pray for the situation that is aggravating you. another thing is crossing yourself whenever feels right - maybe if you need support, or are struggling, or want to make a quick prayer for a passing ambulance etc. it’s a nice habit to be in.

i also learnt some short psalms, or declarations of faith like the Nicene creed and Apostles creed. these are quite soothing and if you’re in a difficult situation and need a second to calm down, just quietly reciting a psalm is a prayer to god, gives you the space and time to calm down while focusing on something else, and use His Word.

the other thing if you’re more catholic leaning could be a rosary! if you’re not catholic and a little uncomfy with the hail mary’s, swap them out for a creed, the lord’s prayer, or the jesus prayer, or something else. sometimes i pray the catholic rosary, other times my own version using the creeds, the lord’s prayer, glory be’s, and the jesus prayer, using the same method as the catholic rosary. otherwise you can make a shorter rosary. it’s a nice physical reminder that you can carry with you, or just do in your head.

a cross, crucifix, medal, or other religious necklace is also a nice reminder. it reminds me of my faith, my commitments, and i also hope that it’s a message to others that i am a safe loving person who they can turn to in times of need, although not sure that’s what people take from it now unfortunately :(

that’s all i can think of for now, but do get in touch again if you have any questions! i'll be praying for you.

may the Lord bless you and keep you x

[abeehiltz1159]

one thing that really bothers me about non-lds or ex-lds criticism of the church is the accusations of misogyny. Like. Have you listened to what our prophets have to say on the role of a woman in the plan of God? The plan of salvation outlines the role of women. Read “The Family: A Proclamation to the World.” Listen to “A Plea to My Sisters” by President Russel M. Nelson, our current prophet. Listen to “The Women In Our Lives” by President Gordon B. Hinckley, a prophet who has since passed through the veil. Go to the church’s app or website or open your New Testament and read how the Lord treats women in the scriptures.

women not having the priesthood is not based on sexism. God did not give women the priesthood because women have the ability to create life. Women have a specific influence in the world. The Lord NEEDS women.

as a girl, I know that I am a daughter of heavenly parents, with a divine nature and eternal destiny. I have a Mother in Heaven just like I have a Father in Heaven.

do not criticize the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints based on the criticism of those who didn’t bother to look for truth in the first place.

[beardedmrbean]

The Chinese Communist Party escalated its persecution of Christians throughout 2022 as the country clamped down on churches and online religious content while demanding allegiance to Chinese President Xi Jinping, according to a watchdog group.

A report released last week by the U.S.-based non-governmental organization ChinaAid warned that the Chinese government is using charges of "fraud" to financially suffocate the house church movement, which consists of Christian congregations that have not registered with China's official Protestant church.

Authorities are using the traditional Christian practice of giving tithes and offerings to trump up charges against house churches under the "Measures for the Financial Management of Religious Activity Venues," which were updated last June, according to the report. The report noted that multiple house church pastors and elders have been jailed and potentially face years in prison.

CARDINAL JOSEPH ZEN, 90, BEGINS TRIAL IN HONG KONG ON CHARGES OF FOREIGN COLLUSION

ChinaAid president and founder Bob Fu said in a statement that his organization is also "gravely concerned" with how state-sanctioned churches are being treated in China, which has approximately 96.7 million Christians, according to persecution watchdog Open Doors.

"By using the new measures against religious content online and the infamous 'zero-COVID' policy, authorities limited or eliminated Christian gatherings," said Fu.

The Chinese government is also cracking down on Christian websites and apps in an attempt to "remove Christianity from cyberspace," according to ChinaAid.

Following the implementation of the "Administrative Measures for Internet Religious Information and Services" in 2022, censorship of online Christian content — including even in group chats — has reached an "unprecedented" level, the report warned.

PASTOR FACING 10 YEARS IN PRISON FOR PREACHING AT CANADA TRUCKER BLOCKADE PROTESTING VACCINE MANDATES

CathAssist, which became China's first Christian phone app in 2013, was among those that were shut down under the new regulations because they were unable to obtain a license. ChinaAid's report said the app "did not meet the government's requirements for the license, despite having taken various actions including suspending sharing, changing its name, and modifying content."

Fu also noted that while the Chinese government has long demanded sole allegiance to the Communist Party, in recent years it has been emphasizing allegiance to Jinping.

"Before, during, and after the opening of the Congress, China's state-run religious groups lavished compliments and praise on Xi with more extravagant words and phrases than China's state-run media, showing that religious Sinicization is evolving from supporting the CCP to worship and allegiance to Xi Jinping," the report said.

"Their goal is not only to curate a ‘socialist-friendly’ church; they hope to erase it," said Fu. "The international community needs to know about these trends and developments as China continues to rise on the global stage."

[he1iks]

Ayo this is kinda weird but I need to spread the word. In the book of revelation, in the Bible, it says we cannot know the day or the hour that Jesus will return, but I does give us a few things that need to happen first.

The Euphrates river will dry up (has happened)

Evil will increase in the earth (I'd say it is)

The nations of the world will rise up against Israel (this one makes me think we've got a few years left)

And we'll all be under one world government (I think there are more but I don't know them)

If the rapture comes and you're not ready, you're gonna go to a not-so-good place I think you know the name of, and you don't have forever. You can't get to heaven instead by being a good person. Even one sub is too many. The one and only way to get there is through Jesus. He came to Earth as a human and died for our sins on a cross, then rose again three days later and defeated death. The only way for a human to get to heaven is by deciding to trust that that really happened, that Jesus was the son of God, to accept that you're a sinner, and to accept the free gift of life and heaven from God. I know I'm not the best with words, but God is God, so maybe he can use this post. Try a local church. There's a really good Bible app called youversion and a website called gotquestions that can answer any question about the Bible. And there's also something in the Bible called the Romans road:

Romans 3:23 'for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.'

Romans 5:8 'but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.'

Romans 6:23 'for the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.'

Romans 8:1 'there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Romans 10:9 'that if you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.'

Please listen guys I don't want anybody to go to hell

[shrineofwill]

There was a church in the middle of nowhere, people avoided the church, because the pastor was a werewolf, because of listening to Shrine Of Will's 4th studio album "Sheep In Wolf's Clothing" 🐑🐺...one song in particular the Rammstein tribute song "Volmond Werwolf"

The pastor felt lonely and missed his people, he then came up, with this brilliant plan...he sent a inspirational message to all of his people, but added the link to "Volmond Werwolf"

The next Sunday, he had his church back in action, this time everyone, are werewolves 🤣

The End

I made this website with CANVA just to show how awesome the app is.

It features some basic information of Shrine Of Will.