#Entrepreneurial Edge

[ilonajosiane]

Entrepreneurial Edge: Outsourced Accounting Strategies For Business Success

Outsourced accounting strategies offer entrepreneurs a crucial edge in driving business success. Here's how entrusting accounting functions to external professionals can empower entrepreneurs and propel their ventures forward.

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Insightful Financial Oversight: A clear grasp of financial standing is pivotal for entrepreneurs to steer their businesses effectively. Outsourced accounting furnishes entrepreneurs with timely, accurate financial data, encompassing cash flow statements, balance sheets, and profit and loss reports. Armed with real-time insights, entrepreneurs can discern business performance trends, identify growth opportunities, and make informed decisions to propel success.

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In sum, outsourcing accounting functions empowers entrepreneurs with a competitive advantage, allowing them to focus on business growth while entrusting financial matters to experts. From cost-efficiency and scalability to enhanced financial visibility and compliance, outsourced accounting delivers manifold benefits driving business triumph. By harnessing outsourced accounting services, entrepreneurs can streamline operations, make informed decisions, and realize their business aspirations more effectively.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 32**

We are slowly moving towards rock bottom with poor Frankie as he tries to get a handle on his addiction and his own demons.

I'm about to update the warnings for the next chapter. If there's something you're very sure you don't want to read about, please heed them. And if you don't want spoilers, please send me a DM and I'll tell you if you need to worry or not. I am moving towards something very dark and I know it might not be everyone's cup of tea and that's absolutely fine!

Series Master List

Chapter 33- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.9k

Another week passes, and you think maybe Frankie does better although his nightmares are still ever present, he gets moody sometimes and he’s always too tired, but slowly you think, maybe, you see an improvement. At least he stays away from Joel, you know that. He comes with you to the radio office in the morning or goes straight to someone who needs help fixing something, sometimes he goes scavenging for spare parts, or trades for them at the market, but never outside the QZ. When he’s done he comes by the radio, or you meet him and the guys at the bar. Often Tommy joins you, sometimes even Joel. Pope tells you he’s asked Joel if Frankie has tried trading for drugs again and Joel says he hasn’t seen Frankie at all.  

It’s been four weeks since Frankie came clean to you all, and the warm spring air seems light to you, even in the QZ. The ever entrepreneurial manager of the bar, Liz, has somehow managed to turn the grimy backyard into a ‘beer garden’ of sorts and now you’re all out there, sprawled in an assortment of patio furniture around a white plastic picnic table. 

Will keeps glancing at the door, Diana hasn’t turned up yet and even though she’s not late, you know Will is on edge until she gets here, just like you are before Frankie turns up. 

There’s been an increase in Firefly activity and FEDRA is on high alert, meaning random stops and checks in the street were now commonplace. The group you’d first only heard about through the scattering of graffiti throughout the QZ, had started making noise. Suddenly they’d recruited more people, were spreading their demands for a more just rule of the QZ, and almost every alley wall had their ‘slogan’ hastily spray painted across it; 'If you're lost in the dark, look for the light’. 

More than once you’d been approached by them, random women mostly, striking up conversations about FEDRA’s unjust methods and harsh control of the QZ. You knew the guys had also been approached, their reputation as men who knew how to handle themselves and any gun placed in their hands, made them prime targets for Firefly recruiters. So far all attempts had been shut down, getting involved in rebellions was something they’d done back in Delta Force and they were done with that. 

Will’s eyes flick to the door leading out to the backyard again as it swings open, but this time it’s Frankie. He’d gone inside for a round of drinks and he stumbles across the threshold, nearly spilling the tray of glasses he’s holding. 

“Jeez, Fish,” Benny laughs, “How many drinks did you have before I got here?” 

“Only one,” Frankie grumbles, carefully watching his steps as he crosses the yard and sets down the tray on the table. 

“The old man can’t take his alcohol anymore,” Tommy jokes, the two youngest men of the group chuckling together as Frankie rolls his eyes and hands you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you, his hand drifting to your thigh almost by its own accord. 

“You feeling ok?” you ask him in a low voice as Ben and Tommy continue celebrating being the youngest, and he nods, taking a sip of his drink before he gives you a quick smile. 

“Yeah, I’m good, just tired, didn’t sleep great last night again,” he answers and you put your hand on top of his, braiding your fingers between his. 

“It’ll get better, Frankie,” you soothe him, “you’re doing great.” 

Frankie looks at the whiskey swirling around his glass and gives you a weak smile before he takes another sip and looks over at Pope who’s asked Will something. You keep glancing at Frankie when he’s not looking. You know something isn’t right, but you can’t push it, not yet. He’s too tired, too sluggish even though he seems to be doing better. Pope had said it might just be the withdrawal symptoms, and it’s been only two weeks. But you feel blind, you can’t do anything but trust him, if he’s still using, you won’t know until it’s too late. So you scan his face, watch his moves, hoping and praying he’s being honest with you all and that he’s just fighting withdrawal symptoms. 

You lean back, taking a sip of your own drink, when from the street a loud explosion suddenly rocks through the air, making you all rush to your feet and turn towards the entrance to the bar. Shouts can be heard from inside and the sound of breaking glass. 

“Come on,” Pope says, “we need to get out of here!” He runs to the door, Frankie’s hold on your hand tightens and you follow him and next to you, you hear Will curse loudly. 

“Fuck! Diana is on her way here, I’ve got to find her!” He wrenches the door open, everyone inside is on their feet, facing the front door and someone is carefully looking outside. Just as Will crosses the room, heading for it, the door swings open and Diana runs inside, covered in dust, coughing. He’s on her in a split second, carefully cupping her cheeks. 

“Honey, please tell me you’re ok! What happened?” 

Diana coughs again and nods, “I’m ok, I think, the explosion was pretty far down the street, I just got pushed by the blast.”

Will is running his fingers over her head, scanning her body for any injuries, before he pulls her into a hug.

“Thank fucking god,” you hear him mumble. 

“We should get out of here,” Pope says, the bar is emptying now. The other patrons are filtering out through the door, looking down the street before hurrying off. When you’re all out on the street you can hear the rumble of FEDRA trucks approaching and the blaring of their alarms. 

“You guys should come over to our place, it's the closest, gonna be a bitch to get home now,” Frankie says. 

“I’m gonna head over to my girlfriend,” Tommy says, “she’s just a couple of streets over, gonna make sure she’s ok.” He waves a quick goodbye before he takes off, jogging down a side street. 

“C’mon,” Pope starts walking towards your building. You walk fast, getting out of the way of more and more FEDRA soldiers moving in, heavily armed and looking ready to take down anyone they don’t like. You feel relieved when you make it inside, everyone piling into your apartment, it’s bigger than Pope’s. Just as you’re about to step inside, one of your neighbors comes up the stairs. 

“Did you hear the explosion?” he asks and you nod. 

“Yeah, we were at the bar, do you know what happened?” 

“Those damn Fireflies, they blew up a truck! Blew a big hole in the street!” He shakes his head as he starts up the next flight of stairs, “FEDRA’s going to be worse than ever now, mark my words!”

You sink down on the couch in the crowded living room, Frankie sits on the arm rest next to you and you put your arm around his waist, leaning into his side. 

“Fucking Fireflies,” Pope grumbles, “I know they’re trying to make things better but what the fuck do they think blowing up trucks will do?”

“FEDRA will crack down even harder now,” Will says, handing Diana a damp washcloth and helping her clean the dust off her face and clothes. “Have they even been successful in other QZ’s?”

Through the radio, and overhearing people’s messages, you knew the Fireflies have spread over most of the US. From almost every QZ came reports of their activities, usually hiding dissent at how FEDRA ran the QZ’s, it was clear that FEDRA wasn’t doing a good job anywhere. 

“I haven’t heard anything of them having any major success,” you reply, “at most they manage to disrupt things, and from what little people say, FEDRA cracks down hard on everyone, not just the Fireflies.” 

“How does FEDRA respond?” Pope asks and you shake your head, grimacing. 

“Not well…extended curfews, harder punishments, even death penalties, harder controls of medicine and food, checkpoints across the QZ, a couple of places even have public executions, I heard they do hangings in Kansas City.” 

“Great,” Benny sighs, “It’ll be fucking Arlington all over again if they keep this up.” 

“You can’t blame them though,” Eve says, she’s sitting on Benny’s lap, “FEDRA are fucking fascists, the Fireflies want to over throw them and have democratic rule.” 

“Yeah, sure, FEDRA are a bunch of fascists, but when has bombing city streets ever helped?” Benny asks and Eve just shrugs. 

…

The next day FEDRA trucks drive through the QZ, blaring an announcement from loudspeakers in the truck beds. 

“The criminal gang known as The Fireflies is now classified as a terrorist organization. Any citizen found collaborating or participating will be tried and convicted.”

They drive through the QZ all day and before long you feel a headache throbbing behind your eyes as you sit at the radio. There’s less people stopping by today, most are too scared to go out unless they have to. 

“Joy came by with a message for her brother,” Sean says as you share lunch in the office. “She said a FEDRA officer told her they are going to execute anyone found to be a Firefly member.” 

“That’s terrible,” you say, “FEDRA’s trials are a joke already, now they’re going to execute people based on those?” You shake your head and scrape the last of the thin stew up with your arepa.

“They’ve put up checkpoints everywhere,” Sean sighs, “It feels like this is only the beginning.” 

“Not only checkpoints, I was stopped three times in the street by soldiers on my way over here this morning, everyone is a potential terrorist in their eyes now.” . 

Your lunch is suddenly disturbed by a door slamming open down the hall and shouts from the few people waiting for your lunch break to be over. Heavy boots come stomping down the hallway and you throw a worried glance at Sean. The door of the office is only half closed but now it’s thrown wide open, slamming against the shelf behind it with a loud crash. Two FEDRA soldiers step inside, their rifles pointed at the floor thankfully, followed by an office and two more soldiers. 

“On your feet!” the office barks, “Up against the wall!” You’d already flown to your feet when the door slammed open, now the soldiers advance on you both with their guns raised and you back up against the only window in the room. 

“Where are your records of incoming and outgoing messages?” the office asks, his voice rough as he pushes the papers on the radio desk around. 

“We-we don’t keep any records.” Sean stutters, “Sir,” he adds. 

“Why not? What are you hiding?” the officer, his name tag says Ambrose, barks, “All incoming and outgoing messages must be logged.”

“Only civilians use this radio, there is no rule saying we have to keep logs of their messages.” 

“New rule, from now on you have to keep a log of all messages,” the officer sneers, “Check those shelves for contraband, you two, check those boxes.” He directs the soldiers to the shelves and boxes that line the wall and they start rifling through the content. You know they only contain spare parts for the radio, nuts and bolts, a few wires, but the soldiers go through it like they’re expecting to find drugs and weapons, every piece is pulled out and left scattered on the floor. 

“Please, be careful with that, they’re spare parts for the radio,” Sean protests as one of the soldiers knocks over a box of equipment. 

“Shut up old man, or I’ll toss ‘em out the window,” Officer Ambrose snarls, “you’re lucky we’re letting you keep ‘em to start with.”

“They’re parts for this particular amateur radio model,” you interject, “they won’t work with the more powerful army issue radio FEDRA uses.” Frankie had taught you that when he helped Sean find some of the parts in an old AV shop a few blocks away. 

Ambrose looks at you and you see a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, “You’re Morales’s wife,” he says, “you and him hang around with the Millers and that other beaner, Garcia.” He looks you up and down, “No wonder you work there then, that’s how they get their information.” You feel your skin run cold, if he’s saying what you think he’s saying, then FEDRA knows about the smuggling. 

“She works here because she’s an excellent radio operator and she knows this machine better than even I do!” Sean protests, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating.” 

“Start keeping those records, old man,” he snarls, still looking at you, “Or we’ll come back and smash the radio and your office to pieces. And just a warning; I catch as much of a whiff of Firefly activity here, you’re both going to the scaffolds.” He barks orders at the soldiers and they step outside, marching behind Ambrose down the hallway. Sean and you are left surveying the mess they’ve left behind, the content of the shelves and boxes scattered across the floor. With a deep sigh you bend down and start putting things back, checking for damage as you go. 

It takes you the rest of the afternoon to tidy the office while Sean handles the people still waiting to receive and send messages. He writes down the messages people send, and the ones received, putting all the scraps of paper in a box. If FEDRA wants to read what people talk about, they’ll have to sort through it themselves. Although Sean does raise the suspicion that maybe FEDRA will try to listen in on what the radio receives or broadcasts, it means you’ll both have to be much more careful in the future. 

You head back home, feeling rattled by the day’s events, together with the checkpoints and being stopped in the street, FEDRA’s presence in the QZ is starting to feel oppressive. You remember how quickly it escalated in Arlington, praying it won’t come to that. 

Frankie hadn’t been past the radio office today, he’d been helping a friend of Sean’s clean out and repair an old open fireplace in exchange for new boots he desperately needed, his old ones falling apart. When you open the door to the apartment you see the new boots neatly placed inside the door and heavy snoring comes from the living room. You look around the corner and smile, Frankie’s on his back on the couch, one arm slung over his head, the other across his chest, mouth agape while he snores, loudly. He’s not usually a heavy snorer but he hasn’t been sleeping well, often waking up tired and groggy. You kneel down next to him and put your hand on his arm, he twitches but keeps snoring, his nose wiggling over his mustache, making you smile. He looks younger and softer than he has in years when he’s sleeping like this, relaxed without nightmares. He must’ve decided to take a nap on the couch after coming home so you leave him sleeping. You tiptoe past him and into the kitchen to start making dinner. 

The arepas are waiting to be fried when there’s a knock on the front door. You hear Frankie stir but he doesn’t wake up and you peek out before you open. Pope’s standing outside, a bag of groceries in his hand. 

“Hey,” he says as you let him in and take the bag from him. “I brought some of the groceries I got with my ration cards, your cooking is better than mine,” he grins as he toes off his unlaced boots. 

“Thanks,” you peer into the bag, spotting some stuff that was definitely not obtainable with ration cards, Pope, Will and Benny had made sure you had more than enough even though Frankie wasn’t smuggling and always seemed to make excuses to fill your pantry. “I’ll cook for you every day if you bring things like this,” you say and pull out a side of pork, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

“Frankie’s living the good life I see,” Pope chuckles, spotting him, still stretched out on the couch, snoring lightly now. 

“He’s not sleeping great at night, he must’ve been really tired,” you look over at him and smile, he mumbles and turns on to his side, back to the room. “I should probably wake him up now though, or he won’t sleep tonight.” 

“You get him up then, I’ll put this stuff away,” Pope takes the bag from you and goes to the kitchen while you go over to the couch and kneel down, wrapping your arm around Frankie’s waist and leaning your chin on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Frankie boy, time to wake up,” you whisper, running your hand up and down his side and he mumbles incoherently, still firmly asleep. “Frankie, baby, wake up, or Santi’s gonna eat all your dinner,” you tease, shaking him lightly. He must be really tired, usually he wakes up the second you touch him, now he only mutters and rolls over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. 

From the kitchen Santi starts rattling plates around; “C’mon, pendejo, despiértate! I’m fucking starving!” he yells and Frankie finally stirs enough to peel his eyes open. 

“Cállate…” he mumbles while he blinks the sleep from his eyes. 

“Hey baby, wake up,” you smile, pressing your lips to his scruffy jaw, “you’ve been sleeping for hours I think.” All you get in response is a grumble and you take his hand, pulling him up to sitting. He rubs his hands over his face and blinks a few times again, his eyes are red and he looks pretty out of it still. 

“Are you feeling ok, Frankie? You look pretty terrible.” 

“Thanks,” he mumbles, giving you a weak smile before he yawns, “I slept like shit last night and I was fucking tired all day but I had to help with that fireplace, got ash fucking everywhere.” 

“Your eyes are really red, did you rinse them?” you ask and he nods. 

“Yeah, but I only had water, I hope it was clean enough.” 

“C’mon, dinner’s served,” Pope calls from the kitchen and you give Frankie a hand up. 

“The other’s aren’t here yet,” you say, “Will and Benny are coming over with Diana and Eve.” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Pope replies, “Will asked me to tell you that FEDRA is putting a new curfew in place, 6 am to 6 pm. It won’t come into effect until tomorrow but they didn’t wanna risk being outside with FEDRA soldiers looking to jump the gun any chance they get.” 

“But that means we won’t be able to have dinner together at all!” You sink down in your chair with a grumble, “Fuck FEDRA.” 

You start serving the stew, Frankie’s got his head in his hands on the table, giving you a tired smile when you place the bowl in front of him. 

“Thanks.” 

“Speaking of FEDRA assholes, an officer came by the radio today with a bunch of soldiers and turned the place upside down, luckily they didn’t break the radio,” you say, serving yourself. You see Frankie’s eyebrows furrow. 

“What did they want?” he asks. 

“Anything, I think,” you reply. “First they asked about logs for in- and outgoing messages, which we don’t keep of course. So they told us we have to from now on and I think they want to see if there’s any mention of the Fireflies from other QZ’s.” 

“And they think you’ll write that down in a log book?” Santi says, shaking his head, “they’re more stupid than I thought…” 

“I always just assumed they were listening in on the radio. That can’t be hard, it’s just regular amateur radio.” 

“You give FEDRA way too much credit, cariño,” Frankie says while dipping his arepa in the stew, “they don’t know shit unless they have someone who actually was a radio operator before the outbreak. And I doubt it.”

“There was something else, more worrying,” you say, “the officer, Ambrose, recognized me as your wife. He made it sound like he knew about the smuggling. When he saw that I worked the radio he said ‘so that’s how they get their information.’ “

“We haven’t used Sean’s radio for setting up trades for years,” Santi frowns, “he couldn’t know about the smuggling through that, he’s hasn’t been in the QZ long enough.” 

“So that means he knows about it some other way, but he doesn’t know how you get the information,” Frankie replies, “but how does he know?” 

“Yeah, that’s worrying,” Santi says, tapping his fingers on the table as he furrows his brows, “I’ll have to talk to Will and Benny, see if we’re missing something. Or someone.”  

The three of you fall silent while you finish dinner, it’s not until you’ve all sunk down onto the couch that Santi speaks again. 

“I’m thinking we should probably be more careful with our runs, go less often, even if FEDRA aren’t getting nosy,” he says, opening the bottle of whiskey he’d brought. “Runs are getting more and more risky, not just getting out without FEDRA noticing, but also getting through the area around the QZ.” 

“More infected?” Frankie asks and Santi nods. 

“Yeah, people who are trying to get to the QZ are getting infected before they get here. And if they can’t, or don’t want to, kill themselves, they just add to the ones already there.” 

“Please Santi, please be careful,” you plead with him, “it was always dangerous, if it’s even more now then maybe it’s best to stop.” 

“Don’t worry, we have some ideas,” he says, smiling at you. “We’ve got a contact with FEDRA who’s willing to make sure certain supply trucks don’t get checked too thoroughly. I need to make sure he’s reliable and then we can start bringing in goods that way.” 

“What’s Joel and Tommy doing?” Frankie asks. 

“Still looking for someone to partner up with, don’t think they’ve found anyone yet though.” Santi replies, “And as far as I know, they’re still going outside pretty regularly.” 

“I guess they have to if they want to meet up with the guy from Concord,” you say, “he’s the one supplying the oxy right?”

“Unless they found someone else, yeah, it’ll be the same guy.” 

Santi stays until he sees Frankie yawn and your eyes starting to droop closed, the day catching up with you both.. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, get some sleep, both of you,” he winks, “no pre-bed activities, you both look like shit.” 

“Thanks Santi, always the charmer,” you mock scowl at him as Frankie yawns again, wide enough to make his jaw pop. 

“Night, hermano, see you tomorrow,” he mumbles, getting to his feet. After Santi’s left he locks up and follows you into the bathroom. 

“I need a shower,” he mutters, his eyes half closed, “should’ve showered when I got home but I was too tired.” 

“I need a shower too,” you say as Frankie begins to peel off his clothes and he gives you a tired smile.

“Please shower with me, hermosa,” he says, holding out his hand as he kicks off his jeans, “No funny business, I promise.” 

“What if I want some funny business?” you smirk at him as you unbutton your own jeans but poor Frankie just shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so tired, cariño, without the pills the nightmares are kicking my ass,” he says, turning on the water and letting it run warm, “I’m not being a very good husband.” 

“Don’t be silly, Frankie, you’re the best husband I’ve ever had,” you smile, dropping your shirt in the hamper and stepping in after Frankie, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. The warm water runs over you both and you sigh as it soaks over your tired muscles. Frankie just hums in response, hanging his head and letting the water run over him, until his brain catches up. 

“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” he says with a snort, turning in your arms and putting his own around you. “You have nothing to compare with,” he smiles down at you as you blink up at him through the water. 

“Am I the best wife you’ve ever had?” you ask with a coy voice that makes Frankie chuckle. 

“Hmm…let me think about it,” he says, stroking his beard while you playfully poke his ribs and he smiles again, “Best wife I’ve ever had, best human I’ve ever known, you’re perfect in every possible way,” he says, bending down and running the tip of his nose along yours, gently nudging your cheek before his lips find yours. You moan into his mouth as he makes you open up for him, his tongue slipping along yours, tasting you and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you’re breathless. 

“I thought you said no funny business,” you mumble against his lips when you finally break apart. 

“I’m just kissing my wife,” he mumbles back, the heavy weight of his cock making itself known between you. 

“Does your dick know that?” you ask, sliding your hand between the two of you and closing your fingers around the thick length, even with the warm water from the shower, it feels hot in your hand. Frankie groans and you feel his hips jolt, thrusting into your hand as you start stroking him. 

“Let me take care of you, Frankie,” you mumbled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his neck, your tongue slipping over his wet skin. You can feel the rumble of his throat under it as his cock twitches in your hand. “I want to taste you, feel that heavy weight of your cock in my mouth as you come.” You pull back and look up at him, his eyes already closed, his head tilted back, “Say it, Frankie, tell me what you want me to do.” 

“Cariño,” he moans, “please, I want your mouth, suck my cock.” His hips jolt again, he’s holding back from fucking into your tight fist but you can feel him grow increasingly hard under your light grip. You give him a final kiss on his throat before you make him back up against the shower wall, he drops his head back with a dull thud. The harsh bathroom light is on and you take your time as you drop to your knees, admiring his thick and long cock, the shower has made it wet and slick, the head swollen and weeping. Looking up at him, blinking through the shower water, you see that he’s still got his eyes closed, but his breaths are rapid and strained. Still watching him you stick out your tongue and run the tip lightly over the slit. The effect is instant, a strained groan rumbles from him and it makes you smile, you love the sounds you can pull from him when he lets himself focus only on what you do to him, without him trying to make you feel good at the same time. 

The water makes your hand slide easily up and down his shaft while you take the head into your mouth, tasting the salty drops leaking from him as you make sure your tongue licks over every part of, tracing the ridge and veins, circling the head with warm lips. He bucks into you, his heavy groans louder as your hand closes more tightly around what’s not in your mouth, he’s already close, you can feel him swell and twitch in your mouth. Pulling back a little you glance up at him and see him looking down at you, open mouth and glassy eyes. Like always when he concentrates his tongue rests on his bottom lip, the pink tip peeking out. He’s breathing heavily and his hips start to thrust lightly almost of their own accord. Still looking at him you let him slip out of your mouth and lick a wide stripe from the bottom of his cock, all the way up along the underside, your hand gliding  down and gently cupping his balls as your mouth envelops him again, adding pressure, sucking him in between your tight lips. 

“Fuck, bebita, please…” he moans, almost a pained expression on his face, “don’t stop, I need your mouth,” he’s kept his hands by his sides, fist clenched, but now he cups your cheeks, caressing your skin as you take more of him, deeper into your mouth, his blunt head nudging against the back of your throat. His moaning is downright filthy, a panted whine as he squeezes his eyes shut. You increase the pressure, tightening your mouth’s firm grip around his slick cock, letting it slide in and out of your mouth as Frankie’s breathing grows erratic. 

“Don’t stop,” he groans, “so close, fuck, your mouth, hermosa…”

You breathe in and take him as deep as you can, your nose nudging the wet curls at the base of his cock, you can feel him spasming as you swallow around him, heavy on your tongue. Your mouth tightens around him, sucking firmly along the whole shaft and with a sudden, loud groan he comes, his hips bucking his cock into your throat, making you gag as you breathe through your nose. Hot liquid fills your mouth, dripping out on the sides as you suck him through his climax. He’s moaning above you, incoherent strings of Spanish, filth pouring out until his cock begins to soften in your mouth. You let him slip out, gently wrapping your hand around it and cleaning him off. 

“I might pass out,” he mutters, breathing heavily as he tilts his head back, trying to compose himself, “Fuck me, I needed that, cariño.” He opens his eyes as you stand up, placing a soft kiss on his little belly before he can kiss your lips. 

“Best wife I’ve ever had,” he mumbles and you giggle against his mouth.

“I know,” you smirk, “thought I’d remind you.” 

“Thank you for the reminder,” he smiles back. 

…

The next day things in the QZ get worse. As you walk to the radio with Frankie you can hear the new announcement from FEDRA; Going outside the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Entering the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Bringing in illegal contraband is now punishable by death. Collaborating with the Fireflies is now punishable by death. A special military court will be set up to deal with all violations of these rules

There are soldiers everywhere, check points every few blocks and everyone is on edge. Frankie holds on tightly to your hand, both of you keeping your heads down as you hurry through the streets. Life in the QZ was never easy, but now it feels like a police state, much worse than Arlington when it all blew up. Frankie looks worried when he leaves you but he’s got work in a different sector. 

“If I can even get there, so many fucking check points,” he grumbles, looking over his shoulder as another FEDRA truck rumbles past. 

“Be careful, come back if it gets too crazy,” you say, reaching up and giving him a kiss. 

“I’ll see you soon, cariño,” he gives you another quick kiss before leaving. 

He makes his way towards the eastern section, down towards the docks, passing through two check points on the way. It takes time but he’s only a little bit late when he knocks on the usual door. After a minute a window above him opens up and Tess looks down at him, her long auburn hair tied back. Lowering her gun she raises her hand in a wave.

“I’ll be right down.” 

“What happened to Georgie?” Frankie asks as Tess lets him in through the locked front door. 

“He got caught coming back,” she say with a scowl, “fucking idiot took a wrong turn in the tunnel and popped up right in front of a patrol.” 

“They’ve made that punishable by death now,” Frankie says as he follows her into the empty hotel she and Georgie use as a base, “they were announcing it all over the streets when I came over.” 

“Yeah, I heard. He was caught a couple of days ago and is still in lock up as far as I know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they hang him.” Tess sighs as she unlocks a door to her makeshift office, a small room tucked away at the end of the building behind signs reading ‘Entry prohibited - Bio-hazard’. 

“I hope he makes it, he’s not exactly a good friend but I can trust him and he scares the shit out of people.” She holds the door open for Frankie and he steps into the familiar little space.

“I need a favor from you,” she says as she closes the door behind them, “You know Joel Miller.” It’s a statement not a question and Frankie nods, his hand closed around the stack of ration cards he has in his pocket. 

“Since Georgie’s most likely gone, I’m going to need a new partner. Georgie had the connections for bringing in most of what I trade. Some connections I can take over, but most he handled on his own. Can you set up a meeting with him? I know he and his brother have been looking to partner with someone,” Tess opens a small safe, making sure to not show Frankie the combination, and pulls out two small baggies. “You still want oxy and ambien?” 

Frankie nods, “Joel really doesn’t trust anyone, you sure you wanna work with him?” He gives Tess his ration cards and she hands him the baggies before she counts the cards. 

“From what I hear, he might not trust people, but he won’t sell me out to FEDRA,” she replies, sticking the cards in her back pocket. 

“No, he wouldn’t do that, and as long as you know his loyalty is only to himself and Tommy, and you can handle that, he’s good to work with, knows his shit.” 

“How come you don’t work with him anymore?” Tess asks, ushering him out of the door again. 

“My wife doesn’t want me smuggling anymore, I’m all she’s got,” he says, a twinge of guilt eating at him as they walk back through the hotel, “she’s all I’ve got,” he adds. 

If Tess notices his uncomfort, she doesn’t mention it, “Must be nice having someone like that, something like that,” she says, “How long have you been with her?” 

“Since before the outbreak,” Frankie replies, “we’d been dating for a year when it happened.”

“You’re lucky, both of you,” Tess opens the front door again, leaning against the frame after Frankie’s passed through it. “Both of you still alive, together, must be nice,” she says again and there’s something she’s not saying, Frankie recognizes the undertone of grief in her voice, and he nods. 

“Yeah, we’ve been lucky, but we’ve lost people too,” he’s got his hands in his pocket, his fingers closing around the pills in the bags. “If I can introduce you to Joel, what’s in it for me?” he asks and Tess raises her eyebrows. She’s surprised it took him so long to ask. 

“Discounts,” she smirks, motioning with her hand to his pocket. 

Frankie nods and starts leaving, “I’ll talk to Joel, see if he wants to meet with you.” 

“Thanks Frankie,” Tess gives him a wave as he walks away. 

…

It doesn’t take Frankie long to get hold of Joel and tell him about Tess but the situation in the QZ deteriorates and plans are put on hold. The Fireflies attack the checkpoint into the sector where you live the day after he meets with Tess and for a few days it’s impossible to leave. You can’t get to the radio or to Will and Benny’s places, there are soldiers everywhere and all there is to do is to stay inside and lay low. You’re both starting to get worried about the situation in the QZ. 

“I don’t know where we’d go, but I think we should make an emergency exit plan,” Frankie says one day. “A plan to quickly get out of here if things go bad.”

You nod, looking down at the street through the window. There’s another patrol going down the street, heavily armed. There’s no curfew during the days, you were free to go outside. But as you watch the patrol stop two women walking down the street, searching their clothes and bags, it’s clear FEDRA isn’t letting anyone walk the street in peace right now. 

Frankie comes up behind you, leaning his head on your shoulder as he puts his arms around your waist. 

“I’ll talk to the guys, see what we can do. We hid a working car just outside the wall, that’ll get us away from Boston at least.” 

“All seven of us?” you ask, looking back at him. He sighs and shakes his head. 

“No, all seven of us won’t fit, but we’ll figure something out.” 

“Maybe we should just try to find some abandoned farm somewhere remote, live away from everyone else,” you say, leaning back so that you can feel his solid chest behind your back, “just risk it out there rather than in here with FEDRA, it just keeps getting worse and more and more oppressive.” 

“Maybe the Fireflies will be successful,” Frankie mumbles, watching the patrol disappear around a corner, “turn things around.” 

“You really think so?” you ask, he can hear the doubt in your voice. 

“No, not really,” he sighs, “but I like your farm idea, fuck everyone else, just you and me.” 

“It’s always just you and me, Frankie, even here. The others are like family but not like you, not the way you’re my family.” 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he tightens his grip on you, you can feel his warm breath on your skin. He doesn’t say anything so you just stand there while he breathes in your scent, memorizing it, as if he wouldn’t recognize it anywhere already. 

…

The morning the checkpoint reopens he leaves before you’re out of bed, gently dropping a kiss on your cheek while he rouses you, sitting on the bed. 

“I need to see Miguel about some spare parts, the clinic needs to fix some medical equipment,” he mumbles, his lips close to your skin while you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles and untangles himself, “I’ve got to go, cariño, I’ll see you this afternoon, I’ll come pick you up at the radio.” 

He makes his way through the checkpoint and over to Joel’s place. Tommy’s already there and Frankie leads them to the meeting spot he’d agreed on with Tess before the check point was bombed, hoping she’ll come back at the same time. Appointments were often postponed or interrupted in the QZ so there was a habit of just turning up at the same place, same time a couple days in a row and hoping for the best if you didn’t hear from the other person.

Tess is there, waiting, when the two Miller brothers and Frankie scramble up to the second floor of a partially bombed building. Joel grumbles about having to ‘drag and climb a fuckin’ dumpster’  but stands up straight and gives Tess a once over when she pushes herself off the dilapidated office desk she was leaning against. 

“This is Tess Servopoulos,” Frankie says, “Joel and Tommy Miller,” he points at each man. 

“Nice to meet you, Tess,” Tommy says, holding out his hand to her and she takes it with a smile. 

“Same, your reputation precedes you,” she replies, holding out her hand to Joel too, who accepts it and gives her hand a firm shake. 

“Only a good reputation, I hope,” Tommy chuckles, easing the tension in the meeting, although Joel still stands rigid, putting his hands into his jeans pockets after shaking her hand. 

“Frankie says you’re reliable and know your shit,” Tess says, eyeing Joel's silent form like she’s trying to gauge him. She knows he’s the one she has to convince and he’s doing his best to look as standoffish as possible. 

“We’ve been smuggling pretty much since the outbreak,” Tommy replies, “been in Boston for about five years now.”  

Tess nods, “I’ve been working with Georgie for about six years, here and there, but he got caught by FEDRA last week.” 

“Yeah, Frankie told us, bad luck,” Tommy nods but Joel scoffs. 

“Bad luck…he got sloppy, if that’s the kind of operation you run, we’re not interested, darlin’,” he says and Tess narrows her eyes at him, opening her mouth but closes it again, biting back whatever retort was on her mind. 

She turns to Tommy instead, “I know you used to work with a few other guys, why are you looking for a new partner?” 

“Our cousins have a thing about not smuggling drugs,” Joel replies, cutting Tommy off, “that a problem for you?” 

“Smuggling ‘em? Not at all,” Tess says, glancing at Frankie and he does his best to not look at Joel. When Joel asked how Frankie knew Tess he said he’d traded with her for spare parts for the radio. It was true, he had traded with her for parts, but only once. 

Joel looks at Frankie, connecting the dots, as Tommy gives Tess a rough outline of how they usually operate, what they can get their hands on. 

“You ok with that, Frankie?” Joel asks him, “Tess trading drugs? You got a handle on it?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” Frankie looks up at Joel and wills himself to keep his eyes steady on the older man, “it’s fine.” 

Joel gives him a slow nod, “Ok, as long as you’re fine with it.” 

But Tess frowns and looks at Joel, “What do you mean?” she asks, eyeing him, “Why would Frankie have any problems with me trading drugs? He buys them from me.” 

Tommy raises his eyebrows at this piece of information and looks at Frankie who tries to square his shoulders and look like he’s in control. 

“They’re worried I’ll get addicted,” he says, “I got pretty bad PTSD after I left the army and when shit gets too dark here, it comes back,” he shrugs, feigning a casual attitude he doesn’t feel, “but I just need the shit to sleep, the nightmares never really went away and the pills help with that, that’s all.” 

He knows he’s not telling the whole truth and Joel certainly knows that, but Frankie meets his eyes and refuses to look away, willing the man to understand that he’s got it under control.  

Tess gives him a hard stare as Frankie tugs on his ball cap and crosses his arms. “Ok, as long as you’ve got a handle on it, I don’t have any issues, I’m not your moral compass, we all do what we need to do to get by. And from what I hear, you guys sell drugs too?,” she looks over at Joel who nods. 

“Yeah, but I stopped selling to Frankie a while back, and we stopped working together, what we did triggered his PTSD.”

“I’ve got it under control now,” Frankie says, he can feel the familiar panic creeping through his nerves. If Joel tells Tess to cut him off he has nowhere else to go. “Since I stopped with the smuggling I’m fine, it’s just the nightmares that give me insomnia, I just need the drugs to help me sleep on nights when it gets bad. But it’s less now, hardly ever.” He’s lying through his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady and his poker face on, but he’s not sure he manages.

“I don’t give a fuck, Frankie,” Joel says, “I’m not selling to you, mainly out of respect for your wife and Will and Benny. But like she said, I ain’t your moral compass.” He turns to Tess again, “Either way, that doesn’t affect our potential partnership. Since Frankie trusts you, maybe this can work, but I need to talk to my brother in private first. We’ll let you know in a couple of days.”

Tess nods and shakes both Joel and Tommy’s hands before the two men leave. Frankie and Tess follow after them, jumping down onto the dumpster. 

“Your wife’s not gonna come after me for supplying drugs to you, is she?” Tess asks as they reach the ground. 

“No,” he shakes his head, starting to walk away. 

“She doesn’t know, does she?” Tess has crossed her arms over her chest and is giving him another hard stare. 

“She does, she knows I take them to sleep,” Frankie tugs on his cap again, he knows it’s a nervous gesture and Tess just shakes her head. 

“You’re a shit liar, Frankie,” she says as she gives him another hard look, “Just keep it under control, ok?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s under control:” He raises his hand and gives her a wave, “I’ll see you around, I’ve got to get going.” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Frankie.” 

…

Despite Joel’s mistrusting nature, he agrees to start working with Tess, on a trial basis. Frankie finds out a few days later when he asks Tess for an actual spare part for the clinic. 

“Joel’s a piece of work, but I prefer that to someone who throws his trust at anyone, that’ll get you killed,” she says, taking the ration cards the clinic had given him in exchange for a pristine looking piece of equipment. Frankie doesn’t know what it does exactly but he knows the one in the machine is broken and he’ll fix it somehow. 

“Joel knows his shit,” Frankie says, tucking the equipment into his backpack, walking back through the hotel with Tess. “Thanks for the part, Diana will be happy, the machine is important to them.”

“Sure, let me know if you need anything else.” She gives him a wave as he leaves. 

When he meets up with the rest of the guys later at the bar he tells them about Joel’s new partner. 

“I’m surprised Joel’s prepared to work with someone else,” Benny leans back on the couch and kicks out his long legs, “Tommy says he’s turned down both Miguel and that guy Robert.” 

“It’s a smart move,” Will replies, “FEDRA is all over the place, he’s gonna need an extra pair of eyes for any bigger trades. We’re gonna need to be real careful too, it’s no longer just a few nights in FEDRA lock up. They’re actually going through with fucking executions.”

“As if dealing with raiders and infected wasn’t bad enough, now FEDRA wants to kill us too?” Benny huffs, “Half the stuff we bring in goes to soldiers, for fucks sake…” 

Pope nods and takes a sip of the bar’s homemade whiskey, grimacing at the taste, “They were setting up for a hanging when I came over, three guys caught in condemned buildings. If FEDRA’s  already suspecting us like your girl said, Frankie, then we should probably lay low for a few weeks. We’ve got the supplies we need for now.” 

“What about the trade we have planned, we’ve got stuff coming in from Worcester, that deal Will and I set up? We’re gonna need to receive it and get it stashed as soon as it comes in.” Benny looks over at the others. 

For years their best contact had been a FEDRA soldier in the QZ, and through him Benny and Will had made a connection with a FEDRA officer in the Worcester QZ, the man’s brother in law. It had taken months but a convoy of FEDRA trucks were due to come over from Worcester, together with the officer and a number of much needed supplies hidden among the official FEDRA shipments. Thanks to Boston being a much bigger QZ the guys had been able to offer him a large stack of ration cards in exchange for a number of in demand items. 

Pope nods at Benny, “Yeah, we have to handle that one, we won't be able to postpone it.” He glances over at Frankie, “I hate to ask, hermano…” he says, “but we could really use your help, just as a look out, for that trade now. You think you’re ok to do it? I hate to say it, but you still look like shit.” 

Frankie shrugs, “I still don’t sleep great, the nightmares are a bitch, but yeah of course, if you need me, I can do it.” 

“Are you sure, Frankie?” Will asks, “I don’t want you doing this if you don’t feel ok, we’re not risking your recovery for this. The three of us will just do it as usual.” 

“If you need me, man, I can do it. And it’s just as a lookout right? That’s just keeping an eye on things, making sure no FEDRA patrols are around?” 

“Yeah, we’ve set up a lookout point near the location and we got some radios. All you’d need to do is sit there and radio me if anything happens.” Pope says, glancing over at Will who nods. 

“Talk to your wife first though, we don’t want to cause any family drama here, make sure she’s onboard with it and thinks you're ok to do it.” 

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her tonight, I’ll let you guys know tomorrow,” Frankie says, putting down his glass and getting ready to leave. “I’m picking her up from the radio office in a little bit. What day is this happening?”

“Thursday,” Pope says, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll talk it through.” 

“Ok, yeah, I’ll talk to her, but I feel good, I can do that, I wanna help you guys anyway I can,”

“Appreciate it, man,” Benny says, Frankie drops his hand on the younger man’s shoulder as he’s leaving and Benny gives it a quick squeeze, looking up at Frankie. “It’s good to know you’re doing better, Fish.”  

Frankie gives him a crooked smile and a wave to the other two and heads out the door of the bar. 

…

Frankie’s waiting outside the radio when you step outside, Sean’s taken over the radio for the evening and you’re stretching out your back after a long shift hunched over the dials and notebooks. You see him before he sees you, leaning against a barrier on the other side of the street, watching a group of children playing on a makeshift playground in a small park. They’ve all got the rough looking hand me downs the orphan children of the local FEDRA school wears and there’s two elderly ladies in FEDRA uniforms keeping an eye on them. 

Frankie looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and his ordinarily tan skin is ashen and gray. His curls are still brown but his scruffy beard is mostly silver now, as you watch his hand comes up and absentmindedly rubs across his jaw, scratching at the short hairs. You’d spent some time last night giving his beard and hair a trim, giggling as he wriggled his nose when the hairs tickled him. Sometimes he was back to his normal self, relaxed and soft around you, sleeping better without nightmares, even cracking jokes and messing with Benny when you met up with the others. But you could see that he was struggling still, the good nights were far apart and most mornings he moved like a sleepwalker, taking time to come back to life. In the evenings he stumbled to bed and was fast asleep as soon as he’d curled himself around you, sometimes the nightmares would plague him but he couldn’t wake up, you’d shake him and he’d be trapped in his nightmare. When you finally managed to rouse him he’d be disoriented and panicky until he fell asleep again, almost instantly. 

Now you walk across the street as he watches the kids take turns on the makeshift tire swing. You know which one of the children he’s looking at; a young girl, about five, with the same dark curls as Lucía. She’s hanging on to the swing, shrieking with laughter as another girl spins the tire around, her hair whirling around her head as she throws it back and giggles. 

“Hey Frankie,” you say as you come up to him, he turns around as you sneak your arms around his waist, pulling him out of his silent reverie. 

“Hey cariño,” he says, giving you a kiss before turning back to the park. The girl had gotten off the swing and was running towards the slide. “She reminds me of Lucía,” he mumbles, glancing over at you, “makes me wonder what she’d look like now.” You give his waist an extra squeeze as you watch the girl shoot down the slide and run around to climb back up to the top. 

“She’d be fifteen now, too old for playgrounds,” he gives a small smile, “although, I don’t think she’d ever get too old for swings, she loved them.” 

The little girl has climbed to the top of the slide for a third time and is standing up, waving at someone. 

“Come here! Ellie, come on the slide with me!” she calls, waving her arm and a younger girl hurries across from the swings and climbs the stairs, her short legs struggling with the big steps. The older girl instructs the younger to sit down in front, and together they slide down, their high pitched giggles carrying in the clear spring air. It makes your heart clench, the sound and the image so normal, reminding you of the times you’d been at the playground with Frankie and Lucía. 

“C’mon, we should get moving,” Frankie says, pulling his eyes away from the dark haired girl as he takes your hand. His mood is subdued on the way back to the apartment. You tell him about your day and he hooks his arm around your shoulder, listening as you walk through the crowds. But he remains silent, lost in his own thoughts when you stop talking. When you get back home he toes off his shoes and goes to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as you fill a pot of water.  

“Joel and Tommy are gonna partner up with a woman called Tess,” he says after a while, breaking the silence. “Tess has been helping me get spare parts for the clinic and she asked if I’d introduce her to them.” 

You look over at him, you can hear from the tone of his voice that he’s not done. And he confirms it as he drops his gaze, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Pope and the guys asked if I could help them out on a trade, as a lookout, but they wanted me to talk to you first, make sure you’re ok with it.” 

“Tell me about it,” you say, turning to lean on the counter as he comes over and stands next to you. 

“They’ve got a connection with this guy in Worcester, he’s bringing in supplies on a FEDRA truck, as part of a bigger convoy. They need me to be the lookout when they meet the men inside the QZ. I won’t go outside and I won’t be near the actual trade, just be the lookout.” 

“Do you feel ok about it?” you ask and Frankie nods. 

“Yeah, I wanna help them with this,” he says, turning a bit so that he can look at you. “FEDRA is patrolling more and they need me to warn them if there’s a patrol approaching.” 

“Your nightmares are still really bad though, and sometimes I can’t even wake you up from them, Frankie. If something happens, is it gonna trigger you even more?” 

“If something happens and I’m not there to keep watch, that’s gonna be even worse,” Frankie shakes his head, “They need my help with this. Once they’re done with this they’re gonna lie low, FEDRA’s hanging people over the smallest charge now,  but this trade is too big and they can’t postpone it.” 

“And you’ll only be lookout, away from the actual trade?” you question and Frankie nods again. 

“They have a lookout point nearby, I’ll have a radio and just contact Santi if something happens, that’s it.” 

You lean against the counter while Frankie looks at you, waiting for your answer, for your approval. It makes you realize that he hasn’t done that before, let you make the decision. He’s told you about the plans, listened to your opinion and adjusted the plans and made changes so that you would be more comfortable about letting him go. This time, when what he’s been asked to do really doesn’t seem all that dangerous by comparison, he’s leaving the whole decision up to you. 

“Ok, if you think you’re ready for it, I trust you Frankie, you should help them.” 

“I do, I feel strong enough to do this, thank you cariño,” he steps in front of you and grabs your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter so that he's standing between your legs. It makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find your hips, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers. 

“When is it?”

“Thursday…was your skin always this soft here?” he’s running his nose down your neck, pulling back the scruff of your hoodie and burying it just above your clavicle. 

“You’re distracting me, Frankie, I had more questions,” you laugh, his tongue comes out and licks a warm strip across the ridge of the bone. 

“I know, that’s the point,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“Much as I love this horny version of you, you should try and get as much sleep as possible until Thursday, I know how tired you are.” 

“Take me to bed then,” he chuckles, still buried against the crook of your neck, leaving a burning trail of nips and kisses up your throat. 

“We haven’t even had dinner,” you laugh as he tries to make you hook your legs around his waist so that he can pick you up, “Let me make dinner and then I’ll take you to bed for dessert.” 

“My favorite kind of dessert,” he smiles, pulling back from your neck to kiss your mouth, making you part your lips for his tongue. 

“Why don’t you take a nap on the couch while I make dinner, Frankie,” you say when he starts working his way back down along your jaw, “because at this rate, we’re never getting dinner,” you have to giggle when he starts pushing up your shirt, his warm hands palming over your back. 

“Too horny to take a nap now,” he chuckles, but he stands up and lets you slip off the counter. And when you start pulling out ingredients he gives your butt a final squeeze and does go to the couch. It doesn’t take long before you hear his soft snores, when you look over he’s face planted on the couch, one arm dangling off it, the other under his head as a pillow.

…

The trade is set up to take place after dark, and after curfew. Sunset in May in Boston is late so Frankie and the guys make their way to the meeting spot well before the curfew comes into effect and bunker down to wait for darkness. In an off limits building, an old office building near the QZ wall, Pope, Will and Benny have set up a secluded spot for the trade. Now the four of them are in the building across the small square, up on the fifth floor, inside a spacious apartment with a bird’s eye view of the neighborhood, the lookout point. 

The sun is slowly sinking below the horizon while they wait for the agreed upon hour. Benny’s brought an old battered pack of playing cards and they’re killing time by playing rounds of poker. Frankie curses when he loses yet another game, thankful they’re only playing for the silver cutlery Pope found in the apartment's kitchen. The utensils clink as Will drags them across the dining room table after winning his seventh game. 

“Fuck, Will, teach me your ways,” Frankie grumbles, he’s down to two spoons and one knife.

“Skill, Catfish,” Will chuckles, sorting his cutlery into neat piles, “And years of counting numbers.” 

“I just keep getting shit cards,” Benny mutters, tossing his losing hand onto the table with a snap of his wrist, making them scatter. “Your turn to deal, Pope.” 

Pope gathers the cards and quickly deals again, “I’m winning those spoons back, Will, just so you know.” 

“Whatever you say, man, you’re happy to try,” Will chuckles, straightening out the six large spoons he’s got neatly lined up along his eight knives and eight forks. “Just need to get Frankie’s two spoons and I’ve got a full set.” 

After two more rounds, Frankie kicks back his chair and throws his arms up in defeat, “I’m fucking bust.” 

“It’s alright, Fish, Diana and I will be thinking about you when we have dinner tomorrow,” Will smirks, sliding the spoons over to his side of the table. 

Pope looks at his watch and out at the dark night sky, “We should get going, scout the area again and position ourselves.” 

Benny gathers the cards and they all pack up. Frankie makes his way out to the large balcony wrapped around the corner of the building and scans the square and the surrounding streets. 

“All’s quiet out there,” he says in a hushed voice as he comes back in. Pope grabs his radio and turns it to the pre-agreed frequency and tests the connection. 

“I’ll radio you when we’re in position, make sure the connection is clear,” he says, clipping it onto his belt as Frankie does the same with his radio. “And don’t forget our contact is going to signal you when they cross the square.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s all under control,” he nods, waiting while the three men pick up the equipment they’d put by the front door when they came in. Even though it was a trade, old habits die hard, and they all had concealed handguns and backpacks with extra gear. Frankie secures his own gun at the back of his pants and triple checks the battery on the radio before picking up a battered pair of binoculars. 

“Alright, ready to go?” Will asks and the other two nods. “Radio us if there’s anything irregular, Catfish.”

“Stay safe, I’ll see you at the rendezvous soon.” 

Frankie locks up behind the guys as they leave the apartment and hunkers down on the balcony. He’s dragged out some of the less damaged couch pillows and propped them up along the railing and floor, making a nest where he’s hidden from sight. Through a small opening he can scan the streets below, laying flat on his belly with the binoculars in front of him. His nerves are making him jumpy, he’s not used to being without the sleeping pills this long, and it adds an extra layer of stress to the usual laser focus he has during a mission. Even though he’s ‘just’ the lookout he feels the familiar tingling in his spine as he scans the street. 

The radio crackles to life on his belt and Pope’s voice comes through; “Catfish, we’re in position. Do you copy, over?” 

“Loud and clear, Pope. I’m in position, over.”

“Maintain radio silence unless necessary, over.” 

“Wilco, out.” 

He clips the radio back on to his belt and settles down. There’s still about thirty minutes left before the other party is due to turn up, but both Will and Pope like having plenty of margins to work with. He glances at his watch and calculates in his head how long it would take for one of the oxy tablets to kick in. He needs something to sooth his nerves, it’s like he can feel every seam and stitch on every piece of clothing he’s wearing, scratching and grating against his overheated skin. Even his hair is itching where it curls over his ears and he swipes off his cap and pushes it back. Just one oxy, to take the edge off, let him focus while he waits. 

He swallows it dry, almost regretting it as the bitter flavor coats the inside of his mouth. But soon he feels the effect, his body goes loose, the scratching stops. He watches two men hurry across the square, stopping to give a one handed wave three times up towards Frankie’s balcony. The trade is underway, he leans back against the wall. 

It’s so quiet up here. The QZ is always so noisy, so many people in such a small space, up here he can’t hear anything, it’s so peaceful. 

All the people are gone. It’s only him. Up here. 

And these pillows are so soft, they feel like clouds against his face. 

Only him high up in the sky with no noise.

Just soft pillows and soft clothes and darkness behind his eyelids.

Chapter 33

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446 @your-slutty-gf

[storiednhappy]

Androbesity

BHM Weight Gain / Masculinization

Just chapters 1-4 for now.

Chapter 1: The Campus

Nestled in the arid desert between Las Vegas and Palm Springs, far from the prying eyes of the world, lies the Androbesity Campus. A sanctuary designed for a singular purpose: to normalize and encourage obesity in adult men. This secluded haven, reminiscent of a luxury resort, is an ambitious social experiment aimed at redefining societal norms and offering a new perspective on health, community, and self-worth.

The concept of Androbesity was born from the minds of visionary thinkers who saw an opportunity to challenge the pervasive stigmas surrounding obesity. They believed in celebrating the intelligence and unique attributes of obese men, providing them a space to thrive without the constraints of a society that often judges them harshly. Thus, the Androbesity program was established, inviting one man from each U.S. state and territory, including Washington D.C., Puerto Rico, Guam, and American Samoa, to live on the campus for four years, from ages 22 to 25.

Each year, 54 men are selected based on three criteria: high intelligence, significant obesity, and a commitment to fully participating in an experimental community. These men are chosen not just for their physical attributes but also for their potential to contribute intellectually and socially to the community. By the end of the four-year cycle, the campus hosts 216 residents, creating a diverse and dynamic environment.

Located in the harsh, sun-baked desert, the Androbesity Campus is a self-contained oasis where no one needs to venture outside. The campus is also a hub for research into supporting the complications and modifications required by an obese adult population. AO Corp, the organization behind Androbesity, is developing products designed to promote obesity and make it more socially desirable. Their efforts extend to media development, including informational programming, reality shows, and scripted series, all aimed at making an obese lifestyle more visible and accepted. Some former AO Men have already transitioned into careers as paid actors for AO Media, becoming the faces of this new movement.

The men arrive at Androbesity with varied backgrounds, each bringing their unique perspectives and experiences. They are introduced to a world where their size is not just accepted but celebrated. Here, they live and work remotely, supported by state-of-the-art facilities that cater to their every need. The campus is equipped with luxurious living quarters, expansive recreational areas, and cutting-edge technology, all designed to foster a sense of belonging and well-being.

Upon arrival, the new residents are greeted by a welcoming committee of peers and staff who guide them through the orientation process. The campus is a self-sustaining ecosystem, with each resident contributing to the community through remote work and participation in communal activities. The emphasis is on building a supportive network where every individual feels valued and empowered.

Among the new cohort are diverse individuals such as:

- Malik from New York, a talented musician whose creativity flourishes in the supportive environment of Androbesity. His initial skepticism about the program gives way to appreciation as he finds himself inspired by the communal spirit and the freedom to express himself without judgment.

- Joshua from South Carolina, a dedicated software developer who finds the campus’s advanced technological infrastructure ideal for his work. He discovers that the environment not only enhances his professional life but also provides a supportive community that encourages personal growth.

- Diego from Puerto Rico, an innovative entrepreneur who sees the potential in AO Corp’s mission. He brings his entrepreneurial spirit to the campus, collaborating on new product ideas and enjoying the camaraderie of like-minded individuals.

- Matt from Wisconsin, a former athlete whose journey to obesity has been one of both physical and emotional transformation. He finds solace in the acceptance and understanding offered by the Androbesity community, allowing him to redefine his identity and embrace his new lifestyle.

The gates of Androbesity symbolize a threshold to a new way of life, one where these men can explore their potential without societal pressures. The campus, with its lush gardens, sparkling lakes, and modern architecture, is a place of beauty and tranquility. It is a closed society, with strict privacy measures in place to ensure that the residents can live freely without external scrutiny. Visitors are allowed only on designated visiting days, twice a month, ensuring that the integrity and serenity of the community are maintained.

As the first chapter of this epic unfolds, we follow the journey of these men, each from a different part of the United States and its territories. Their stories will delve into their daily lives, their interactions, and the unique social structures that develop within this experimental community. It will explore how Androbesity reshapes their identities, fosters deep bonds, and creates a space where they can redefine what it means to live fully and unapologetically as obese men in modern America.

Through their stories, we will witness the power of acceptance, the strength of community, and the profound impact of living in an environment free from the limitations imposed by conventional societal norms. Welcome to Androbesity, where a new chapter in the lives of these remarkable men begins.

Chapter 2: Guaranteed Gains

From the moment they step through the gates of Androbesity, the men are enveloped in a sense of liberation. Here, their obesity is not just accepted but embraced, and they are encouraged to explore the fullness of life without the typical societal constraints. Yet, hidden within the layers of welcoming gestures and luxurious amenities lies an unspoken truth: weight gain is not just an expectation, but a requirement.

Buried in the fine print of their contracts is the clause that binds them to a pact of inevitable transformation. Each year, the Board of Directors of Androbesity convenes in a secret meeting to determine the minimum weight gain for that year. The specifics vary, depending on the scenarios the Board wishes to explore and the occupations of the men. This calculated approach ensures that each individual’s experience aligns with the overarching goals of the experiment.

The men are never informed of the exact minimum weight they are expected to gain. Instead, they are monitored closely, and if they fall behind, they are gently but firmly guided back on track. Monthly assessments by Androbesity’s team of specialized doctors ensure that every resident is progressing towards the unseen target. The corrective actions are subtle yet effective, tailored to ensure compliance without overt confrontation.

Resistance is not uncommon. Some men, buoyed by their newfound freedom, may attempt to assert control over their bodies, choosing to eat less or even trying to lose weight. These periods of rebellion are anticipated by Androbesity, serving as opportunities to test and refine their methods for countering diet resistance. The doctors at Androbesity, known as AO Doctors, never argue or confront. Instead, they employ a range of psychological and physiological strategies designed to ensure compliance.

For example, Malik from New York, a talented musician, initially resists the constant indulgence. His strict regime soon falters under the relentless hospitality of Androbesity. Meals are tailored to his tastes, abundant and irresistible. The supportive environment subtly reinforces positive associations with overeating, making resistance increasingly futile.

Joshua from South Carolina, a disciplined and health-conscious software developer, tries to maintain his previous eating habits. However, his environment soon proves too tempting. The campus's advanced technological infrastructure and social activities make it easy for him to lose track of his calorie intake.

Diego from Puerto Rico, an innovative entrepreneur, views the mandated weight gain as a challenge to his autonomy. His initial attempts to maintain his weight are met with increased social activities centered around food. The pressure is never overt, but the implications are clear—he is expected to participate fully in the culinary culture of Androbesity.

Matt from Wisconsin, a former athlete, struggles with the psychological aspects of his weight gain. His competitive nature drives him to challenge the system, but the community's acceptance and understanding begin to erode his resistance.

As the year progresses, each man’s journey towards the mandated weight gain becomes a testament to Androbesity’s underlying mission. The methods employed to ensure compliance are meticulously documented, providing invaluable data for the Board. These strategies, once perfected, hold the potential to extend beyond the campus, influencing societal norms and promoting universal male obesity.

The men, immersed in their lives on the campus, become living experiments in a controlled environment designed to reshape their identities and physicalities. The careful balance of freedom and control, indulgence and discipline, creates a unique dynamic where resistance is met with gentle yet unwavering redirection.

Chapter 3: The Call

The camera panned over the serene, sun-soaked landscape of the Androbesity campus, capturing its pristine beauty before cutting to a close-up of Malik, seated comfortably on a plush armchair in his well-appointed room. The setting was warm and inviting, designed to put him at ease as he prepared to share his story with the world. The AO Media team had set up the perfect ambiance, with soft lighting and a backdrop that highlighted the modern elegance of the campus.

Malik took a deep breath, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of emotions as he began to speak. "When I got the call from Androbesity, it was a moment of pure disbelief. I mean, how often do you get a call telling you that you’re both incredibly intelligent and, well, significantly overweight?"

He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with a hint of irony. "It’s a strange combination, right? Society doesn’t often put those two things together. You’re either seen as the smart guy or the fat guy, rarely both. But here I was, being recognized for my intelligence and my size. It was surreal."

The video cut to scenes of Malik’s life before Androbesity: a cluttered apartment in New York, stacks of music sheets on a piano, and glimpses of his bustling life as a musician. The narration continued over these images, providing a glimpse into the world he had left behind.

"I was always torn between my passions and my appearance," Malik explained. "Music was my escape, but my weight was always this shadow hanging over me. When the call came, it felt like someone had finally seen me for who I really am—a talented, intelligent man who also happens to be obese."

The video shifted back to Malik in his room, his expression growing more introspective. "There’s a conflict that comes with that call. On one hand, you’re flattered and excited. Androbesity is prestigious. It’s an honor to be chosen. But then there’s the other part of you that questions it. Am I really that fat? Can I really leave my life behind for four years?"

He paused, his gaze drifting as if recalling the moment vividly. "But then you think about the opportunity. The chance to be part of something bigger than yourself. To be in a place where your size isn’t a burden but a badge of honor. And the more you think about it, the harder it becomes to say no."

The scene transitioned to Malik walking through the campus, interacting with fellow residents, and engaging in various activities. The sense of community and acceptance was palpable, a stark contrast to the isolation he had often felt back in New York.

"Androbesity isn’t just about living with your size," Malik continued. "It’s about gaining perspective, gaining confidence. Here, you’re not just accepted; you’re celebrated. Your intelligence, your talents, your size—they all matter. They all make you who you are."

The camera zoomed in on Malik’s face, capturing the sincerity and depth of his words. "So, why don’t you say no? Because deep down, you know this is a chance to be part of something revolutionary. To challenge the norms, to embrace who you are fully. It’s not just an experiment; it’s a new way of life. And that’s something you just can’t walk away from."

While Malik spoke passionately about the community and acceptance at Androbesity, he never mentioned the weight gain explicitly. This unspoken rule was well understood among the residents. Discussions about their weight and the expectations surrounding it were kept private, shared only with trusted friends and the AO Doctors. On camera, the focus remained on the positive aspects of their experience, maintaining the program's image of empowerment and self-discovery.

The video ended with a panoramic view of the Androbesity campus at sunset, the sky ablaze with colors, symbolizing the dawn of a new era for men like Malik. As the screen faded to black, Malik’s final words resonated in the silence: "This is where we redefine what it means to be smart, to be fat, to be human."

Chapter 4: The Bottomless Plate

Matt sat at the long dining table, the last of his fellow residents having long since left. He speared the final piece of roast beef from the platter in front of him and savored it, wondering if tonight would be the night they told him he couldn't have more. The thought gnawed at him, almost as much as his insatiable appetite.

In his former life in Wisconsin, Matt was accustomed to being told when enough was enough. At every buffet and family gathering, there came a point when someone would gently suggest he’d had his fill. But here at Androbesity, things were different. No one had yet told him to stop, and the abundance seemed limitless.

"Can I get more of that dessert?" he asked a passing server, pointing to the now-empty plate of chocolate cake.

"Of course, Mr. Matt," the server replied with a smile, heading back to the kitchen without hesitation.

Matt leaned back in his chair, his belly pressing against the table. He glanced around, noting the discreet cameras mounted in the corners of the dining hall. He knew they were there, but he didn't realize their full purpose. AO Media captured every meal he consumed, creating timelapse videos of his expanding stomach. These videos were studied in board meetings, analyzed for insights into their subjects' growth and behavior.

While Matt feared the day they might say no, AO Corp had no intention of letting that happen. His voracious appetite was precisely what they wanted to encourage, a living testament to their philosophy. The more he ate, the more valuable his data became for their research and media content. They were always prepared to bring more food, always ready to satisfy his cravings

Yet, the staff maintained the illusion of potential limits. They never outright offered more food unprompted; they waited for Matt to ask, ensuring he felt a sense of agency and uncertainty.

As he waited for his dessert, Matt pondered his peculiar situation. "They'll have to cut me off someday," he mused, half to himself. "No one can eat like this forever without someone stepping in."

But the truth was, the staff had no plans to curb his consumption. The more Matt ate, the more compelling his story became for AO Media, and the more data they collected on his extraordinary growth. His gradual transformation was a critical part of their secret plan to understand and promote the acceptance of obesity.

The server returned with a generous slice of chocolate cake, even larger than the last. Matt's eyes widened with delight as he dug in, savoring every rich bite. The cameras recorded his every move, capturing the subtle changes in his body with each meal.

"Enjoy, Mr. Matt," the server said warmly before leaving him to his feast.

Matt wondered how long this unlimited bounty could last. He finished the cake, feeling the familiar mix of satisfaction and curiosity. But for now, there were no limits in sight, only the promise of more.

And so, he continued to indulge, blissfully unaware of the true extent of Androbesity's plans. The staff remained ever accommodating, refilling his plate as many times as he requested, ensuring that Matt's journey of growth would never be interrupted.

[stuffforthestash]

Modern Academic AU pt3

All this because I couldn't stop thinking about what kinds of classes Professor Raphael would teach... He's laughing up at me from hell, I just know it.

part 1 and part 2

------------------------------

Kagha (by request!) - Environmental Science. Will only teach courses about political lobbying and activism. She's also a militant vegan and active member of PETA, and won't shut up about it.

Dammon - College of Engineering. Teaches "Advanced Manufacturing Processes" and "Finite Element Analysis", and runs the machining shop. Also teaches a metal sculpture class when there's room in the Art School's budget. He's one of the faculty liaisons for several LGBTQA+ orgs on campus as well, and is completely oblivious to the fact he has a fan club (which is for the best, really)

Zevlor - Campus Security. A retired Green Beret who refuses to talk about his time in the service, he's well liked by most faculty and known to be a bit of an old school charmer. LOTS of rumors and speculation about what kind of injury got him discharged, and how he got it.

Barcus - College of Engineering. He teaches classes on Thermodynamics and Process Design & Safety. Has no idea how popular and well-liked he is by both students and staff.

Wulbren - Chemical Engineering Dep't Chair. He's brilliant, but also an asshole, and is constantly trying to weasel more grant money for his research into ethically questionable chemical compound modifications. Also makes his TAs teach all his classes for him.

Lorroakan - English Dep't Chair. Thinks he's hot shit for it but really no one else wanted the job. He makes his TAs teach all his classes AND do all his admin work, so he can spend all his time (and the department's money) on schmoozing with alumni and donors.

Blurg - Environmental Science. Isn't that great of a teacher but it's required for keeping the research grants coming in. Thankfully his passion and enthusiasm for topics like Sustainability in Agriculture make up for his shortcomings.

Omeluum - They're actually Bluurg's research partner and not technically a member of faculty, though they also act as his unofficial TA because otherwise Bluurg's course work interferes with their research timelines.

Nine-Fingers Keene (by request) - School of Business. Her classes are all advanced level and titled things like "Gaining The Competitive Edge". She also runs an entrepreneurial outreach program for young women seeking to start their own businesses.

Dame Aylin - VP of Diversity and Inclusion. She's very passionate about her job and a VERY vocal advocate for social justice issues like inclusivity, diversity, and accessibility. Completely incapable of keeping her personal life separate from her professional one, as she's a devout believer in leading by example.

Isobel - School RN. Is fiercely protective of students right to medical privacy and access to judgment free care, but is much better known on campus for being Dame Aylin's wife.

The Emperor - Board of Trustees. Outwardly just an ordinary Trustee, generally pleasant to interact with and actually rather good at rubbing elbows with students, faculty, and admin alike. There's just something off about them, enough that they've had multiple audits and inquests over the years despite nobody ever being able to find any actual signs of misconduct.

------------------------------

Sorry this set took a bit longer to figure out. A bunch of these characters were a real challenge to fit into roles that actually exist in reality, and I had to do a bit of research to find out wtf kinds of classes or departments certain fields of study even have. Ah, the things we do for the blorbos, amirite?

[sunshinesmebdy]

Moon in Scorpio: Dive Deep, Conquer Challenges, and Transform Your Business Finances

Forget sunshine and rainbows, astrologers! Buckle up, business owners, for the Moon in Scorpio plunges us into the murky depths of ambition, transformation, and hidden truths. It's not for the faint of heart, but for those willing to dive deep, this lunar phase holds the potential to uncover buried treasures and emerge with financially resilient businesses forged in the fires of passion and strategy.

Business Benefits:

Ruthless Transformation: Embrace the power of metamorphosis! Use this lunar phase to identify weaknesses in your business, shed outdated practices, and rebuild with laser focus. This isn't a time for half-measures; go full Scorpio and dissect, revamp, and redefine for true success.

Don your business scalpel, entrepreneurs, for under Scorpio's Moon, your metamorphosis begins! Ruthlessly dissect inefficiencies, expose hidden flaws, and shed outdated practices like a serpent molts its skin. This isn't a time for wishy-washy tweaks; channel your inner Phoenix and rise from the ashes of mediocrity. Reforge your business with laser focus, wielding your strategic scalpel like a sculptor of success. Remember, Scorpio craves depth, not half-measures; go all in, redefine your boundaries, and emerge from the lunar firestorm an empowered powerhouse, ready to claim your financial Everest.

Unwavering Determination: Channel your inner warrior! Scorpio's Moon fuels your tenacity. Tackle even the most daunting challenges with unwavering resolve. Obstacles? Mere stepping stones for your relentless drive. Remember, success often lies just beyond the perceived impossible.

Under Scorpio's Moon, your inner warrior ignites with undying flames. Fear not the looming mountains of challenges; see them as mere stepping stones on your ascent to success. Obstacles crumble before your relentless drive, fueled by a tenacious spirit that refuses to yield. Channel your inner Spartan, forge your resolve in the fires of hardship, and remember, the greatest treasures often lie just beyond the perceived impossible. So, raise your entrepreneurial banner, charge towards your goals with unwavering determination, and claim your victory under Scorpio's moonlit sky.

Intuitive Insights: Trust your gut like never before! Scorpio's Moon grants access to your hidden depths of wisdom. Pay attention to subconscious whispers, hunches, and dreams. These seemingly cryptic messages could hold the key to solving long-standing problems or unearthing lucrative opportunities.

Forget logic's lamp, entrepreneurs – under Scorpio's Moon, your gut reigns supreme! Dive into the murky depths of your intuition, where whispers of wisdom surface like buried treasure. Heed those seemingly cryptic hunches, listen to the echoes of premonitions in your dreams, and pay close attention to the gnawing whispers of your subconscious. These aren't random anxieties; they're cosmic breadcrumbs leading to solutions for long-standing problems or doors to unexpected opportunities. Trust your gut like never before, for under Scorpio's moonlit sway, it could become your most valuable financial compass.

Powerhouse Negotiations: Forget compromise; unleash your inner power negotiator! Scorpio's Moon equips you with an ironclad will and razor-sharp intellect. Go for the win-win, but don't be afraid to walk away from deals that don't serve your ultimate vision.

Forget velvet gloves, entrepreneurs – under Scorpio's moon, unleash your inner iron fist! Negotiations become chess matches, your will forged in molten magma. Don't settle for crumbs; wield your razor-sharp intellect like a double-edged sword, carving win-win deals that fuel your ultimate vision. Remember, compromise isn't a dirty word, but walking away from misaligned partnerships is a power play. Stand firm, negotiate like a titan, and leave the table only with agreements that ignite your success, proving that under Scorpio's moon, power negotiations dance to your tune.

Financial Fortunes:

Debt Demolition: Face your financial demons head-on! Use this lunar phase to tackle debt with Scorpio's relentless intensity. Create aggressive, personalized repayment plans fueled by unwavering determination. Watch those balances shrink faster than a vampire in sunlight.

Ditch the financial Band-Aids and grab your cosmic sledgehammer, entrepreneurs! Under Scorpio's moon, face your debt demons head-on. Unveil hidden spending, dissect unnecessary expenses like a financial pathologist, and craft aggressive, personalized repayment plans forged in the fires of your relentless determination. Forget slow and steady; this is a sprint under the lunar spotlight. Channel your inner debt demolition crew, fueled by unwavering focus, and watch those balances crumble faster than a vampire exposed to sunlight. Remember, Scorpio craves transformation, and this time, your financial phoenix rises from the ashes of debt, leaving you empowered and ready to reclaim your fiscal freedom.

Investing with Conviction: Ditch the fads and trends! Scorpio's Moon whispers of long-term, strategic investments. Research meticulously, invest with conviction, and hold your ground against market jitters. Remember, slow and steady wins the financial race under this lunar influence.

Under Scorpio's Moon, swap market trends for meticulous research and long-term vision. Invest like a celestial chess player, analyzing risks and opportunities with an eagle eye. Ditch the herd mentality and forge your own path, fueled by an ironclad conviction in your choices. Hold your ground against market jitters, knowing that beneath the surface, hidden gems may slumber. Slow and steady is the mantra here; remember, the tortoise beats the hare in this moonlit financial race. So, research, strategize, and invest with unwavering conviction, for under Scorpio's watchful gaze, depth and patience unlock the path to true financial power.

Uncovering Hidden Assets: Unleash your inner financial detective! Scorpio's Moon shines a light on hidden assets, forgotten accounts, or unexpected opportunities. Revisit old investments, renegotiate contracts, and explore alternative income streams. You might be surprised by what you find lurking in the shadows.

Dust off your financial magnifying glass, entrepreneurs! Under Scorpio's Moon, your inner Sherlock Holmes awakens, sniffing out hidden treasures in the shadows of your finances. Revisit dusty portfolios, unravel forgotten bank accounts, and renegotiate contracts with laser focus. Explore alternative income streams like a celestial treasure hunter, unearthing untapped potential lurking in neglected corners. Don't be afraid to delve deep, for beneath the surface, unexpected gold may glimmer. Remember, Scorpio thrives on unearthing secrets, and your financial future might just hinge on one illuminating discovery under this moonlit detective mission.

Generosity with Purpose: Scorpio's generosity isn't about showy displays; it's about strategic partnerships and calculated philanthropy. Invest in causes you truly believe in, forge mutually beneficial alliances, and watch your network blossom into a web of financial resilience and shared success.

Under Scorpio's Moon, your generosity takes a strategic turn. Think calculated philanthropy, not showy displays. Invest in causes that ignite your soul, forge alliances that weave your values into a tapestry of shared success. It's a cosmic quid pro quo, not handouts. Offer your expertise, leverage your network, and watch your generosity blossom into a web of mutual gain, financial resilience blooming from seeds sown with purpose. Remember, Scorpio craves depth, not superficiality. Choose your partners wisely, align your values, and witness your network transform into a powerful ecosystem of growth, proving that under this lunar influence, giving isn't just spending, it's strategically investing in a brighter future for all.

Bonus Tip: Embrace the raw power of Scorpio! Surround yourself with dark colors, intense music, and powerful imagery. Channel your inner warrior through physical activities or intense workouts. Remember, power, not superficiality, reigns supreme under this moon.

So, there you have it! The Moon in Scorpio is your invitation to dive deep into your business and finances, shed the skin of mediocrity, and emerge stronger, more resilient, and financially empowered. Prepare for intense work, unwavering determination, and unexpected transformations. Remember, under Scorpio's moonlit gaze, the greatest treasures are often found in the darkest depths.

[sensualnoiree]

astro notes: daily transits 9/19

Thursday, September 19, 2024, ushers in a fresh wave of energy as the Virgo Sun forms a liberating trine with Uranus in Taurus, encouraging practical changes that lead to greater freedom. The Aries Moon amplifies this drive toward innovation and risk-taking, fostering an atmosphere ripe for entrepreneurship and bold moves. Throughout the day, key lunar aspects—sextiling Jupiter, conjuncting Chiron and Eris, and opposing Venus—shape our emotional experience, creating a complex interplay between self-determination, collaboration, and personal growth. This is a day where we’re invited to embrace change, take risks, and balance our need for independence with the necessity of working with others.

Key Influences

Sun Trine Uranus: Practical Innovation and Liberation: The Virgo Sun forms a harmonious trine with Uranus at 27°07' Virgo–Taurus, sparking a desire for change that’s both practical and freeing. This aspect blends Virgo’s methodical, detail-oriented energy with Uranus’s innovative, rebellious streak. The result is an opportunity to make adjustments in our routines, habits, or approach to life that lead to greater autonomy. This is a great time to experiment with new methods or technology that can simplify tasks, improve efficiency, or open new doors. There’s a sense of excitement in the air as we’re encouraged to think outside the box and make bold moves toward personal liberation, especially in areas related to work, health, or daily responsibilities.

Aries Moon Sextile Jupiter: Confidence and Optimism: At 11:10 a.m., the entrepreneurial Aries Moon forms a supportive sextile to expansive Jupiter, boosting confidence and inspiring us to take new risks. This aspect brings a wave of optimism, making us feel capable of tackling challenges and seizing opportunities. It encourages boldness, especially in matters where we seek growth, whether personal, professional, or financial. There’s a “go big or go home” attitude in the air, as Jupiter amplifies the Aries Moon’s adventurous spirit. This is a great time for pursuing new ventures or expanding existing ones, as the universe seems to be offering a green light for progress.

Aries Moon Conjunct Chiron and Eris: Healing Through Boldness and Confrontation: In the afternoon, the Aries Moon conjuncts Chiron at 1:43 p.m. and Eris at 6:20 p.m., bringing themes of healing and self-assertion into focus. The Moon’s conjunction with Chiron highlights the importance of healing wounds related to confidence and independence. It encourages us to step into our personal power and face any insecurities that may be holding us back. Meanwhile, the Moon’s alignment with Eris adds an edge of confrontation, prompting us to stand up for ourselves, even if it means challenging the status quo. These aspects help us build stronger self-confidence and assertiveness, making it easier to take risks and claim our place in the world.

Moon Opposite Venus: Balancing Independence and Collaboration: The evening brings a tension between self-determination and collaboration as the Aries Moon opposes Venus in Libra at 8:13 p.m. This aspect creates a push-pull dynamic between the desire to pursue personal goals (Aries Moon) and the need for harmony and partnership (Venus in Libra). It challenges us to find a balance between asserting our own needs and working cooperatively with others. Relationship tensions may arise, particularly if there’s a feeling that one’s independence is being compromised or that a partner is not being supportive enough. This aspect calls for compromise, encouraging us to honor both our individual desires and the importance of maintaining harmonious connections with others.

Integrating the Influences

Embrace Change and Innovation: Sun Trine Uranus: The Sun–Uranus trine offers a chance to make practical, yet liberating changes in your life. Embrace opportunities to innovate and streamline your routines, whether through technology, new methods, or fresh perspectives. This is a great time to break free from old habits that no longer serve you, especially in areas related to work, health, or daily responsibilities. Take bold steps toward personal autonomy, knowing that the changes you make now will ultimately lead to greater freedom and efficiency in the long run.

Take Calculated Risks: Aries Moon Sextile Jupiter: The Aries Moon’s sextile to Jupiter encourages you to take risks and pursue new opportunities with confidence. Whether it’s launching a new project, expanding an existing venture, or stepping into a leadership role, this aspect gives you the optimism and courage to go for it. Just be mindful of overextending yourself; while the energy is expansive, it’s still important to approach opportunities with a sense of realism. Trust in your abilities, but also make sure you have a solid plan in place.

Heal and Assert Your Independence: Moon Conjunct Chiron and Eris: The Moon’s conjunctions with Chiron and Eris invite you to heal old wounds related to confidence and self-worth. This is a powerful time to confront any insecurities or fears that have been holding you back from fully embracing your independence. Don’t shy away from difficult conversations or situations where you need to assert yourself. These aspects support you in standing up for your needs and boundaries, even if it means challenging the expectations of others. Through this process, you’ll emerge with a stronger sense of self and a deeper understanding of your own worth.

Balance Independence with Collaboration: Moon Opposite Venus: The evening’s Moon–Venus opposition asks you to find a balance between your personal ambitions and your relationships. While it’s important to pursue your own goals, this aspect reminds you not to lose sight of the value of collaboration and partnership. If tensions arise in relationships, take a step back and consider how you can honor both your need for independence and your partner’s needs. Compromise may be necessary, but it doesn’t mean sacrificing your individuality. Instead, find ways to work together that allow both parties to thrive.

follow for more astro insights like this and head on over to @quenysefields or my etsy --> sensualnoiree to grab my new astrology guidebook on reading your own natal chart :)

[powderblueblood]

PARENTHOOD VERSE MY BELOVED .. the sole idea of Lacey having to show up to a parent teacher conference and having to be convinced that no actually cutting class to go smoke is kind of a bad thing and her realizing that she does not know how to talk to a teen anymore (she never did)

“i’m doing this because i love you.”

“and i love you for doing this!”

“no, i need to say it out loud so it’s believable, otherwise i’ll drive my car into the ditch on the way to that godforsaken school.”

“you won’t do that, lace.”

“give me one good reason.”

“three—because you love me, because you want an open casket funeral, and because… you might be a little fond of that kid. i think.”

this whole thing is fucked.

chair’s too small, first of all—they definitely made the chairs smaller since lacy went here which she can only assume is some kind of tactic of psychological warfare. which leads her to think, okay…

“if i may, can you just level with me, cunningham?”

christine cunningham. ninth grade biology and health teacher. decidedly not the mother of lacy’s kind of-ish stepson, but damn well could’ve been. which freaks her out a little bit.

“he’s doing okay, isn’t he?”

chrissy taps her pen against the report card.

“well… he’s doing more than okay, lacy, he’s doing pretty… great, actually, especially for a new transfer—“

crazy how those munson genes can mutate.

“uh huh. and he did the reading for that class?”

“yeah, as far as i—“

“so what’s the problem?” lacy shrugs.

a look of mild incredulity from chrissy, like, do you seriously not get this.

“no, i’m serious,” lacy presses, “what’s the problem.”

“the problem,” chrissy scoffs, “is he cut the period to go sell loosies to freshmen by the athletic track.”

lacy can’t help but caw a little laugh. and the genes are strong! wait til this gets back to the fathership… that entrepreneurial spirit just won’t be beat out of these boys, will it?

“chrissy, c’mon, who among us hasn’t—“

“that doesn’t really matter, lacy. aren’t we all trying to do a better job than our parents did?”

okay, that’s a little on the nose. lacy’s got to concede, because she can’t compete with chrissy’s big ageless moony eyes and earnest nature. makes her want to drop kick a garden gnome. so she straightens her collar, promises to talk to the kid and gives her a little if that’s everything and good to see you, chris then she’s dismissed.

kid’s waiting in the hallway, legs splayed out from his chair. he’s so goddamned tall and wiry that he takes up half the fucking corridor. those munson magic brown irises swivel up to her, but the charm’s killed by the sneer on his face.

“so?”

“you’re over. they’re making us homeschool you.”

“i’d like to see you give that a crack. what’s first, replacement parent theory 101?”

“aren’t you hardboiled! c’mon. let’s go.”

lacy notices his footsteps get a little more anxious, work a little harder to catch up with her little clip as they cross the parking lot. there’s a friendly heaping of his grandfather in him that way.

“so what are you gonna tell dad?” he asks, nervous edge cracking at his voice as he folds his enormously long legs into the passenger seat of this joke of a hotrod she’s still driving. al’s. she’s trying to give it a good home.

lacy takes a long look at him, with his father’s eyes and nose and nerve and a mop of curly hair to seal the deal. he’s fretting a little, the shitstarter attitude he’d come from the west coast with wearing a little thin in their little pocket of east jesus nowhere.

“depends,” she says, “how much you make with those loosies?”

“i don’t know.” he shrugs, he knows. “fifteen bucks or something.”

“fifteen bu—?! what were you charging? a goddamn dollar a dart?!”

“something like that.”

“how did you not get beat up?”

“rich kids don’t know the difference. i just looked for the richest looking kids.”

lacy blinks. starts the car.

“you’re using that and whatever’s left in your wallet to buy dinner,” she sighs, a grin threatening her. “and i’ll tell e—your dad exactly what i was told.”

a nervous beat. she hears him clench his jaw.

“that franklin munson is a goddamned grade a student.”

“ugh. don’t suck up.”

“do i look like i’m trying to impress you, frankie?”

she is, a little.

[alice130285]

Renowned Entrepreneur Robert Hur Unveils Groundbreaking Innovation at Global Tech Summit

Amidst the bustling halls of the highly anticipated Global Tech Summit, all eyes turned to Robert Hur, a figure synonymous with innovation and entrepreneurial prowess. Anticipation reached a fever pitch as attendees eagerly awaited the unveiling of Hur's latest creation, shrouded in secrecy until this momentous occasion. With whispers of groundbreaking advancements permeating the air, the stage was set for a revelation that promised to reshape industries and redefine the boundaries of technological innovation.

Here you can get some extra money.

Leading up to the event, speculations ran rampant about Robert Hur's latest venture, with industry insiders and tech enthusiasts alike eagerly dissecting every cryptic hint and rumor. Expectations soared as whispers of disruptive technologies and game-changing solutions circulated within the tech community, fueling excitement and anticipation for what was to come.

As the moment of truth arrived, Robert Hur took to the stage, exuding an air of confidence and anticipation. With all eyes fixed upon him, he began to unveil his latest creation – a revolutionary AI-driven platform poised to revolutionize the way businesses approach customer engagement and data analytics. Highlighting its ability to seamlessly integrate cutting-edge machine learning algorithms with intuitive user interfaces, Hur showcased how his innovation would empower organizations to unlock unprecedented insights and drive meaningful interactions with their customers.

Here you can get some extra money.

The crowd erupted into applause as demonstrations illuminated the platform's potential, showcasing its ability to analyze vast troves of data in real-time and deliver actionable insights at a scale previously unimaginable. With each revelation, it became increasingly clear that Robert Hur had once again raised the bar for technological innovation, cementing his reputation as a trailblazer in the industry.

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[aikoiya]

Hello there, while I do some Danny Phantom idea but I am here to show you the difference between the hunter from both editions of hunter the reckoning from world of darkness and hoping to get your opinion on both hunters. (Also note that I don't know everything about hunter the reckoning thing like what is the messenger or other things and I also a bit bias for 5th edition because the idea of normal people hunting monsters is cool)

Imbued from 1st edition is supernaturally augmented people who are chosen by the messengers to hunt monster. There are 3 virtues with 3 creeds each but if the imbued want to get a more powerful edge they get more deranged ( a mechanic that every point of virtue above 7 you must get a derangement) and if they want the most powerful edge they must become an extremist.

The virtues (and creed) is

Virtue of zeal is driven by negative emotion of the supernatural and seeking to hurt the monster (the creeds of zeal is avengers creed, judges creed, and defenders creed)

Virtue of mercy is driven by positive emotion and wish to resolve conflict and see everyone thrive (the creeds of mercy is martyrs creed, redeemers creed, and innocents creed)

Virtue of vision is driven by a stable balance of emotion and determine what need to be done without bias( the creed of vision is visionaries creed, hermit creed, and waywards creed)

The extremist path are what happened when an imbued becomes too powerful (got 10 dot in virtue) and deranged ( the three path are the divine path which is chosen, the corrupt path which is corrupted by a demon, and the independent path are when an extremist don't want to be a puppet)

Yeah being an imbued sucks but they are the star of hunter the reckoning...

Until the 5th edition put the imbued in to backstage and let normal people be the star.

5th hunters are normal people that after finding out monsters are real decide to hunt them.

Hunter, while there is some edge that give them a semblance of magic abilities, are just regular people that has to research the quarry (the supernatural beings they are currently hunting) and use the element of surprise they currently have (even their edges reflect this like a library edge that a hunter can access a wealth of information), because while they can be prepared against the monster, the monster can also be prepared against the hunters.

The 5th edition creeds is both the reason, how they approach the monster, and the way of life (note that 3 words for later)

Martial creed is the militaristic hunter that seeks finality to the supernatural to protect people from monsters but are more likely to be extremist and willing to risk the element of surprise to end the monster.

Inquisitive creed are the people who want to know more about the problem and are more knowledgeable about the things they are against but they are more likely to let the monster live so they can learn about it more even though the monster kills more people and they are not well armed.

Faithful creed are religious people who are more likely to use magical like abilities from relics but if has a crisis of faith becomes weak.

Entrepreneurial creed are both engineers and business seeker as they make tech to capture (yes capture) to get a potential reward of inspiration of a invention to get profit but are reliant on their tool and the captured monster can use their power to escape and causes trouble

Underground creed use stealth and immediate action like trap and improvise to be unpredictable but their lack of long term planning leaves them unprepared.

While the creed is the way of life there are groups of hunters that treat it like a job and look to use the monster's existence to their benefits while the hunter want to end the monster existence to save people, they are the orgs (organization). I don't have enough energy to list the example of the orgs but the arcanum (the scholars that you ask in the post of dpxhtp)are one of them.

So what do you think of the imbued and the hunters? They both hunt monsters.

Hmm... Honestly, I also prefer the idea of regular-ass people being hunters. Fits more with what I tend to think hunters do.

Can Dhampirs also be hunters? Because that's basically the mythos behind Dhampirs to begin with, so I wouldn't understand why not.

[steelbluehome]

Meet the other Otters!

Cosmic Coconut is an enthusiastic tweenager who is ready for blast off, but hasn’t finished her training yet. Like many kids her age, Cosmic is overly-eager, and rarin’ to go, but not yet quite prepared. She’s an ordinary kid with an extraordinary dream. She aspires to be the greatest astronaut ever… to go where no otter has gone before… to find cool, new worlds that have water because otters love water. In fact, the words “otter” and “water” come from the same ancient word. Pretty cool, huh?

As a quick-witted junior astronaut with a take-charge attitude, Cosmic touts her own catchphrase, “Why not?” She believes anything is possible, especially with all latest breakthroughs in science because they seem like science fiction and she loves that! A fan of sci-fi comics, space movies, and music, Cosmic downloads her favorite media directly into the control panel on her space suit. She has all of DJ Tropicool’s hits on her playlist, and rocks to them on repeat.

The only thing Cosmic loves more than space is her friends. She looks up to DJ, who’s a few years older than her, and she loves Little Orphan Orange like a kid sister.

DJ Tropicool is an animal on-stage. Literally! One of the top up-and-coming DJs on the scene, he’s a prodigy turntablist and MC with a baseline and light show that turns life into a dance party.

Smart, charming, and entrepreneurial, DJ’s success lies in his off the charts musical abilities and his amazing coding skills. He’s an artistic pioneer, a new breed of maestro known as a live-coder who writes code for AI that mixes music into irresistible new beats for a whole new generation. This is some next-level stuff!

This cool otter pup is a good, all-around, open-source kinda guy who gladly shares his coding and mixing skills with digital natives everywhere. He’s the new creative voice in digital dance music! Just ask Anita Fruit Punch. DJ Tropicool performs at all of her volleyball tournaments, and that gives her the upper edge.

Major Mango heard the call of duty when she was still a pup and said, “Roger that!”

A strong female otter from the Chicago River, Major Mango has dedicated her life to helping otters in need. Respected for her tremendous bravery and her kind heart, she’s a Search and Rescue specialist – a First Responder who uses her precision parachuting skills to jump into the heart of danger and bring others to safety.

Born on the 4th of July, her favorite movies are any action flicks starring Kook and her favorite color is camouflage. She’s a lover of tradition and a modern woman rolled into one. With her high-level access to cool gadgets and a fleet of awesome high-tech vehicles, Major Mango is a kid-favorite. Partly because she’s a hero who teaches them cool secret codes, and partly because she’s a popular e-sports champ with her own gaming channel where she dominates the competition!

Anita Fruit Punch is a pro beach volleyball champ who is known for her amazing speed, her invincible spikes, and her rousing catchphrase, “Anita fruit punch and I need it now!”

Upbeat and confident, Anita has tons of fans, both young and old, and she always takes the time to chat with them and sign ottergraphs after matches.

A fresh water otter who hails from the mangrove swamps of South East Asia, Anita is a firm believer in achievement through practice, good sportsmanship, and the unbelievably transformative power of scrunchies…. Which, according to Alexander the Grape, were first invented in 1987 by a woman who named the invention after her pet poodle.

When Anita’s not competing for accolades, she likes to chill on the beach where she surfs, and organizes beach clean-ups, because according to her, “Happiness comes in waves.”

(Again I apologize if these icons are huge)

2 of 2

[shoutoutcommerce]

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[danielastor]

Rajat Khare: Transforming Innovation into Global Impact | Leadership Redefined

Rajat Khare is a transformative figure in the global business landscape, known for his visionary leadership as a deep tech investor and entrepreneur. His innovative approach to harnessing cutting-edge technologies has led to impactful investments that are redefining industries worldwide. With a keen eye for spotting potential in disruptive technologies, Khare’s journey is a testament to how strategic vision and entrepreneurial spirit can drive global change. Explore how his leadership continues to shape the future, setting new benchmarks in deep tech and beyond.

[amberlide]

Garreth Weasley head-canons

As I already did Natty and Leander, here we go with Garreth. I am a bit hesitant on these as I know many people have their own, but these are personal and related to my fanfiction.

Be nice <3

Sibling Relationships:

Garreth has two older brothers: Edmund and Oliver, and two younger siblings: Charlotte and Hector.

His favorite brother is Edmund, who always tastes his home-made brews. However, after an incident involving Gillyweed, Edmund has become a bit more hesitant.

Family Dynamics:

Garreth is sweet and caring, attributes fostered by a close-knit family. Coming from a modest background, taking care of each other is paramount, especially with two younger siblings relying on him.

First year at Hogwarts was difficult as he was not used to called his aunt Prof. Weasley but rather Aunt Millie. This gained an infinite hours of detention and loss of points for Gryffindors XD

Early Memories:

You can't be this sweet and caring without great role-models in your life. When Garreth was a few months old, five-year-old Edmund heard him crying in the night. To avoid waking their parents, Edmund took Garreth to the living room to comfort him. Mrs. Weasley found them the next morning, asleep together on the couch, a moment that reaffirmed the special bond among her children.

Passion for Potions:

Garreth's love for potions sparked at a very young age. Every Christmas, Mr. Weasley would bring home a crate of Butterbeer to celebrate, in a very poor family this made the celebration very special. The taste intrigued Garreth, inspiring a desire to recreate something similar yet affordable to spread joy, much like Butterbeer did for him. Did Oliver try to give him alcoholic Butterbeer? Sure, but we don't talk about this XD

Skill in Potion-making:

He’s the middle born of a large family, with Edmund being the everyone’s favorite and so good in everything, but also very modest, Oliver being the prankster who excels in charms and Charlotte being the pretty and quirky witch of the family with a knack for magical creatures (Hector is too little) he wanted to find something for himself.

He has a unique eye condition, he’s not color-blind, but he can’t see certain shades of the same color. As he will explain to Pen most people relies on their eyesight to check on their potions, since he cannot rely only on that, he has to use his other senses as well: smell and hearing. This gave him an edge.

Entrepreneurial Spirit:

He started his business at Hogwarts as a potionist as a way to make money to buy ingredients for his brew. Everything started one day when Edmund asked him to help him prepare a calming drought for a friend who was having panic attacks. He soon started receiving more orders that he could handle.

Personal Quirks:

Despite his accomplishments, Garreth loathes his freckles, getting quite upset when Pen dubbed him an "ugly freckled mug."

He has an never ending crush on Poppy since the second year, which was apparent to Natty during their first class together, but Lee never noticed XD

He will never ever retort to violence to solve conflicts, he has other ways, thanks to his business he knows his clients' secrets and he’s not afraid of use them when threaten. 

He refuses to brew illegal potions, he already has enough problems with his aunt as it is.

He’s easy to scare, to much delight of Lee and Natty who always convince him to come to the Old Fool haunted house for Halloween (and make bets on him).   

When he's nervous he always pushes his lock of hairs away from his forehead to give space to his mind to breath XD

Literary Interests:

Garreth is an avid fan of the "Emerald Quill" novel series, which follows a gentleman thief executing magical heists. He often spoils the plot for Lee, who's attempted to read the series multiple times without success.

This means, he’s not afraid of stealing when necessary XD

[prodeskk]

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[seobotai]

How I save my time with AI SEO

Business is hard. It's like trying to juggle while riding a unicycle on a tightrope. Your resources are always very limited. You're teetering on the edge of what's possible.

This is especially true when you're a solo founder or running a small-town business. You're constantly battling a lack of time, money, hands, and brainpower. It feels like you're trying to fill an ocean with a teaspoon.

There's never enough time to do all the things your business demands: marketing, sales, hiring, development, management… The list goes on, an endless scroll of tasks that threaten to bury you alive.

I remember nights when I'd stare at my computer screen, wondering if I'd made a terrible mistake. Was this the entrepreneurial dream I'd signed up for?

Then, like a life raft in stormy waters, AI arrived and disrupted our world.

That's when the idea hit me: what if I could create a tool that would do the heavy lifting of SEO for me? A tool that could research keywords and write SEO-optimized articles - all on autopilot?

And that's how SEObotAI was born - a tool that saves my time by doing SEO for me, working tirelessly behind the scenes.

To be continued…