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pxmun · 2 years ago

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Today had been very busy. The Hatt’s had been helping Darius with getting his younger siblings registered into the Sodor school system.

Lady Hatt and Cleo were currently out school shopping, the girl was excited to start school. Romeo on the other hand had never been enthusiastic about school, but he was willing to give Sodor a shot.

Patty had been helping Romeo and Cleo with catching up with their studies so they wouldn’t fall behind their classmates. Patty and Romeo were waiting for Sir Topham Hatt in his office, waiting for the Fat Controller to arrive so they could go home for the day.

“Have you thought about what career you want to pursue once you’re done with high school? The Mainland has some really nice universities.” Patty asked.

“Not really, up until we moved to Sodor, I’d never even considered the thought of graduating from high school.” Romeo confessed.

Now that Romeo was in a better environment, thoughts raced through the teen’s mind as he tried to figure out what he wanted to do with his life.

“Maybe I’ll follow in mom’s footsteps and pursue a career in music, I can work side by side with Allicia Botti at the opera house. Or maybe I’ll get a degree in Railroad Operations, it would be cool getting to work with Gordon and the others on a daily basis.” Romeo thought aloud.

Romeo spotted one of Sir Topham Hatt’s hats resting on a coat rack. The teen took the top hat off of the rack.

“Maybe, just maybe, I can be the next Fat Controller.” Romeo said as he placed the hat atop his head.

“I must say, you would certainly be a very funny controller.” Patty laughed.

Romeo did his best “distinguished” look, this made Patty laugh even harder.

“Patty, your laughing has caused confusion and delay”! Romeo joked.

The girl was trying to catch her breath. Patty managed to calm down a bit.

“You better put Sir Topham Hatt’s hat back before he returns, otherwise he’ll be very cross.” Patty giggled.

Romeo returned the hat to its rightful resting spot. As soon as Romeo placed the hat back, the door opened, and Sir Topham Hatt walked in.

“What’s got you two all giggling? I could hear you lot from the other end of the hall.” Sir Topham asked smiling.

“Nothing sir, Romeo was just telling me a funny story from his old school in the normal realm.” Patty replied.

“Well, if it has you rolling on the floor like that, I would love to hear it, but right now I need to get you two home.” Sir Topham Hatt said.

The Fat Controller dropped off Romeo and Patty at their respective homes, not knowing that Romeo had tried on his hat earlier.

The next morning, Sir Topham Hatt arrived at Tidmouth sheds to greet his engines and assign them their jobs.

“Good morning engines, we have a lot of work to do today, so I need all of you fired up and ready.” Sir Topham Hatt said.

The engines just stared at Sir Topham Hatt in complete confusion.

“I’m sorry, but who are you”? Gordon asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sir Topham Hatt was caught off guard by Gordon’s response.

“That’s not funny Gordon, you know exactly who I am.” Sir Topham Hatt said.

“No, I don’t. You just arrived and began giving out orders like you’re the controller of this railway.” Gordon said.

“Have you fallen ill Gordon? I am the controller of this railway; it’s been that way for decades”! Sir Topham Hatt argued.

“If that’s the case, then I would have surely remembered you”! Gordon argued back.

Seeing how tense things were getting, Toby stepped in.

“I’m sorry sir, but I have to agree with Gordon on this one. We’ve never seen you on this railway before sir.” Toby said.

Sir Topham Hatt could only stare in disbelief, this had to be some sort of prank. There’s no way his engines could have forgotten about him in a single night. Sir Topham Hatt then asked another question.

“Well, then who is the controller of the North Western Railway”? Sir Topham Hatt asked.

Romeo soon arrived; the teen saw all the commotion and walked up to Sir Topham Hatt and the engines.

“Morning everyone! What’s going on”? Romeo asked.

“Good morning, sir”! The engines greeted the teen.

Both Romeo and Sir Topham Hatt looked at each other in baffled confusion.

“Um, sorry but did you guys just address me as sir”? Romeo asked.

“Yes sir, after all you’re the head of the railway.” Henry answered.

Romeo was completely dumbfounded.

“Head of the railway? This is a joke right”? Romeo asked with a concerned chuckle.

“No sir, we would never joke about you like that! Whatever gave you that impression”? Thomas asked.

“Well, for one thing I’m a bit too young to be running an entire railway, secondly, I don’t even have the schooling, and thirdly this is causing a lot of confusion and delay”! Romeo explained.

The engines became panicked as they realized they were about to fall behind schedule.

“Sorry sir we’ll get to work right away”! Emily said as she ushered herself onto the turntable.

Romeo was unable to protest as the engines blew their whistles before rushing off to start their jobs for the day. He watched in utter disbelief as the last engine puffed away before turning to Sir Topham Hatt.

"What the smokestacks was that all about"! Romeo shouted.

"I have absolutely no idea, they were all fine last night, but today the engines are acting quite silly indeed, pretending that I'm not the controller of the North Western Railway." Sir Topham Hatt said crossly.

"I don't know Sir T, they genuinely looked like they had no idea who you are, and knowing Gordon, he ain't the type of engine to joke around like that.” Romeo said worried.

Sir Topham Hatt soon shared Romeo’s concern.

“We better keep a close eye on them today. I’ll notify Darius, Cleo, and the engines crews to notify me immediately if they notice anymore odd behaviors. Maybe Cleo can talk to Thomas and get more insight as to what is going on around here.” Sir Topham Hatt said.

“What should I do then? The others think I’m in charge and I am horrible at organizing”! Romeo added.

Sir Topham Hatt thought for a moment.

“For right now just handle your chores as you normally do, if the engines have any issues or questions just stop at the nearest signal box and call my office, I’ll advise you on what to do from there.” Sir Topham Hatt instructed.

Romeo headed off to begin the morning express. He saw Gordon waiting at the Knapford platform with Spencer and Patty, who was loading up her bakery goods to sell on the express.

“You know Spencer it’s really hard being such a splendid engine. Not only do I get to pull the express train, but I’m also Sir Cupper’s private engine.” Gordon gloated.

Spencer looked at the big blue engine in utter bewilderment.

“Who’s Sir Cupper? I thought the head of the railway was Sir Topham Hatt, did he retire or something”? Spencer asked.

“Sir Topham Hatt? There’s never been a controller on this railway by that name.” Gordon replied.

Spencer thought Gordon had a couple of bolts loose.

Patty approached Romeo, looking very concerned.

“All of Sir Topham Hatt’s engines are acting very strange today, the passengers are very concerned. What is going on Romeo”? Patty asked concerned.

“I have no idea and neither does Sir T, from what he says they were all fine last night, but today all of them think I’m in charge.” Romeo replied.

“What do you think caused this”? Patty asked.

“I don’t know, for right now I’m supposed to do my chores like normal and if anything happens, I just call in to Sir T.” Romeo answered.

“Well, alright, just be careful out there and don’t hesitate to ask Sir Topham Hatt or any of the other controllers for help.” Patty said.

“I will. I better get going before Gordon ends up causing trouble with the other engines with his bragging.” Romeo said.

Unfortunately for Romeo, it was already too late. While the teen was busy talking to Patty, Gordon was going on and on about how he was Romeo’s favorite engine. This soon caused an argument with the other engines, and they were now shouting at one another.

“You’re not Sir Cupper’s favorite”! Thomas argued with Gordon.

“Then why is he always riding in my cab”? Gordon questioned.

“Because all of his important railway chores are along the main line”! Edward countered.

“Woah, woah! What’s going on here? Why are y’all fighting”? Romeo asked.

“It’s Gordon sir.” James replied.

“He thinks he’s your favorite engine, that’s not true, is it sir”? Percy asked.

Romeo soon found himself sweating buckets as all eyes focused on him, the engines eager to hear his answer. In truth they all were his favorite, but to Romeo Gordon was his best friend, of course he’d be the teens number one engine. Romeo though could see that if he told the other engines, it would only cause more problems.

“Um, just a sec there’s something in the office I need to take care of ASAP.” Romeo excused himself before dashing off to find Sir Topham Hatt.

The teen entered the Fat Controller’s office, it was filled with very confused drivers and firemen, they all wanted to know why their respective engines wouldn’t acknowledge Sir Topham Hatt as the head of the railway. While Romeo was relieved to see that whatever was affecting the engines wasn’t doing the same to their crews, there was still the problem at hand. Romeo squeezed through the crowd of engine crews and ended up in front of Sir Topham Hatt’s desk. The older man was sweating beads himself as he tried to calm the situation with his employees. He saw Romeo and immediately addressed him.

“Sorry for all the chaos, is there something wrong Romeo”? Sir Topham Hatt asked.

“Yeah, Gordon was bragging how he’s my favorite engine and now the rest of the engines are arguing with each other and asking me who’s the favorite. What should I do”? Romeo asked.

Sir Topham Hatt dismissed the engine crews and turned his full attention to Romeo.

“When one runs a railway Romeo, there should never be favorites. We controllers love all are engines very much and never see one of our engines as better than the other. Their all very useful in their own way.” Sir Topham Hatt stated.

“So, no favorites then.” Romeo confirmed.

Sir Topham Hatt nodded.

After fighting his way through the crowd again, Romeo found himself face to face with the engines, who were eager to hear there supposed controller’s answer.

“Listen, I’m going to be real honest with all of you. In truth, I don’t have any favorites.” Romeo admitted.

The engines gave each other confused and unsure looks, Gordon visibly looked upset.

“All of you matter greatly to me and you each are really useful engines; this railway wouldn’t be the same without you guys. That being said, I realize that I haven’t been really fair to everyone. So, after Gordon and I get done with our express duties, I’ll make my way around the island and ride along with each one of you, sounds good”? Romeo offered.

“But sir, what about your other controller duties”? Edward asked concerned.

“I got someone to cover for me. “Romeo reassured the older engine.

Edward still looked unsure, but nevertheless he went along with Romeo’s schedule. The other engines soon left to start their morning jobs while Romeo joined Gordon and Patty for the first express run, all the while Romeo was becoming more and more unsure of how he was going to pull off everything.

Halfway through their route, Patty joined Romeo in Gordon’s cab.

“Sold out of pastries already? That has to be a new record.” Romeo said.

“Rush hour was really busy; James had a breakdown on the main line with his passenger coaches and had to be shunted to the steam works by Sydney. His passengers weren’t too happy with the unexpected delay, so the station master had to compensate by giving James’s passengers tickets for the next train, which happened to be Gordon’s express.” Patty explained.

“Woah, sounds like things are really chaotic back there.” Romeo said.

“Indeed, everyone’s packed in there like sardines and the express staff are doing their best to make the passengers comfortable, but how about you? How are you holding up”? Patty asked.

“Trying my best. I promised the other engines I’d spend time with each one of them today after Gordon’s express run.” Romeo replied.

“Gosh, that sounds like an awful lot to do. Are you sure you are up such a big task”? Patty asked concerned.

“To be honest, no, but I told them I’d spend time with each one of them today and I intend on not letting the engines down.” Romeo responded.

At the final stop in Vicarstown, Romeo departed from Gordon’s cab and joined Henry to pull some trucks, followed by the teen checking in on James at the Steamworks, there he saw Darius, the older brother giving the younger a suspicious look.

“What did you do this time”? Darius plainly asked.

“I haven’t done anything! I swear the engines were the ones who started it”! Romeo proclaimed.

“Well, if it wasn’t you who convinced them that you were in charge, then who did”? Darius asked.

“I don’t know, they were all fine last night after I left Sir T’s office.” Romeo responded.

Then the teen remembered something. He remembered fooling around with Sir Topham Hatt’s hat by placing it on his head. Romeo wondered if the hat had anything to do with the engines strange behavior.

“Okay, so I might have messed with Sir T’s top hat yesterday, but you don’t think that could be the cause of this mistaken identity do you”? Romeo asked.

Darius thought for a moment.

“I honestly can’t say for certain, but you should definitely tell Sir Topham Hatt about wearing his hat. There could be the possibility that it has some magical properties that’s messing with the engines thoughts.” Darius advised.

Taking his older brother’s advice, Romeo decided to tell Sir Topham Hatt everything after he was done helping the other engines out. Romeo soon joined Edward for his branch line. Romeo greatly enjoyed Edwards stories as they made their way to Brendam. Romeo couldn’t help but laugh when Edward shared some of Gordon’s mishaps. From Brendam, Romeo joined Thomas, Annie, Clarabelle, and Cleo, the older brother informed his little sister about the hat.

“A hat that can alter an entire railway’s memories, interesting, I’ll have to look into the Hatt’s family history and see if there’s more details on this memory wiping hat.” Cleo said.

Later that night Romeo joined Percy for the nightly mail run. The teen was exhausted at this point and was having trouble keeping himself awake. Percy’s crew were kind enough to offer the boy a cup of hot coco, the chocolate giving Romeo a much- needed sugar rush. Percy was very happy that Sir Cupper was accompanying him for the mail delivery.

Finally, after a long night, Percy dropped off Romeo at Knapford. The teen was beyond tired, but he knew he couldn’t go to sleep yet until he talked to the Fat Controller.

Romeo entered the office and was met with an equally tired Sir Topham Hatt.

“Hello again Romeo. I hope the engines didn’t give you too much trouble today. Are you ready to return home”? Sir Topham Hatt asked.

“Not yet sir, I actually need to tell you something.” Romeo said.

Romeo then confessed to Sir Topham Hatt about touching his hat. To the teens surprise the Fat Controller wasn’t as upset about the hat as he thought he would be. If anything, Sir Topham Hatt seemed more relieved that the engines weird behavior could be explained. Sir Topham Hatt then took out the hat in question.

"This hat has been in my family for generations, believe it or not, but this hat originally belonged to my great great grandfather Ethan. He was a very poor man before he arrived on Sodor, this hat was gifted to him by his neighbor who thought it would bring Ethan luck during his move to Sodor." Sir Topham Hatt said.

"Well, it seems very clear that it did, heck he even met Dinah." Romeo said.

"From then on this hat was gifted to the next Hatt child who was to take the mantle of controller." Sir Topham Hatt said.

"And you're really okay with destroying that family heirloom if it is the cause of the engines amnesia"? Romeo asked.

"For them Romeo, I'd destroy all of my possessions if it meant my engines wellbeing.” Sir Topham Hatt answered honestly. “It’s just a hat, it can be replaced, but the engines can’t. To me they are irreplaceable.” Sir Topham Hatt said. The Fat Controller walked over to the roaring fireplace and without a single word or moment of hesitation, he tossed the heirloom into the fire. Romeo nearly jumped as the hat was lit ablaze in a brilliant purple flame. Sir Topham Hatt placed a calming hand on Romeo’s shoulder. “Thank you, Romeo, for caring more about the engines by telling me the truth, than keeping it to yourself for your own sake. That right there is a quality any good controller should have.” Sir Topham Hatt said. “Anything for them Sir T, anything for them.” Romeo stated. The two looked on as the hat burned to ash.

#ttte #thomas the tank engine #Sir Topham Hatt #ttte sir topham hatt #sodor #ttte gordon #the fat controller

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imagine4000 · 2 years ago

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Turtle Rush Part 7

Hey guys! I’m back with another chapter of ‘Turtle Rush’. Please tell me what you think of it so far. In the meantime, let’s see how our heroes will handle their mission...

[Hidden City 6:35 am...]

CHOP!

T-THUNK!

A water-serpent yokai walks by his bulky wolf-friend, who splits giant crystals in two.

“Take it easy, Brutus. We’ve got plenty of stock to last for two years.”

“Hah! This ain’t nothing, Darin. Just a warmup before the real heavy lifting.”

“You always were the muscle.”

The duo looks up to see Dahlia.

“There she is!”

“Wait, wait, wait, Brutus—woah!”

FWIP!

The wolf tosses her up and spreads his furry arms out to catch her.

WARP!

“Huh?”

But she stops midair, floating inside a bubble of magic.

“Careful, my friend.”

A yokai resembling of a golden pheasant steps forward as he waves his hand downward, motioning the bubble to land Dahlia safely.

“We mustn’t damage her current condition.”

“Oh right, my bad.”

“I see you brought your friends.”

“Nice to meet you, kids!”

CRUSH!

“Oof/Ack!”

Brutus brings all four of the turtles into a giant hug.

“O-Okay...I take back what I said.”

“Which is?”

“That Franken-Foot’s ‘buddy hugs’ are cake-walk compared to this.”

“I told them the whole situation. Anyway, Darin’s the brains of the farm. He operates and manages everything that goes around here. And the one crushing your bones is Brutus, the best blacksmith around.”

“Second to your old man. He was the real genius.”

“And I’m Nova. Sorcerer by trade and the medical examiner. Trust me, you don’t know how many times I had to heal these guys on a daily basis.”

“Where’s Ajax?”

“He’s out in the fields taking care of the pack.”

“Thanks.”

“Ah-ah-ah, hold on.”

The pheasant takes a look at her bandaged hands.

“Hmm...doesn’t look too good.”

“It’s better than what I endured last time. Remember?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nova sighs, “I hope you’re up for it.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Alright. I’ll go make the preparations.”

“Thanks. C’mon, guys.”

Dahlia leads the turtles out to the open fields, where a fence borders, stretching far and wide enough for wild yokai to roam about.

“Hey, look. It’s that lion again.”

Mikey2k12 points to the far-left where the creature is contained in a secluded area near the barn. Standing nearby it is a gecko yokai, petting the two-tailed lion’s mane.

“Ajax!”

“Huh...oh, hey, Dahlia!”

Dahlia jumps on the fence, propping herself on top next to Ajax.

“How is he?”

“Still exhausted, but he managed to eat. And you four are the turtles from the...other dimension?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty wild, dude,” Mikey2k12 awkwardly grins.

“Thank you for letting us stay here,” Leo2k3 says.

“No problem. Name’s Ajax and I take care of the wild yokai that roam around these parts.”

“So, what now,” Raph2k12 asks, “do we just sit back and watch?”

“Not exactly, boy,” Ajax implies, “we’ll need you four to help with Dahlia’s training.”

“We’ll do whatever we can, sir,” says Donnie2k3.

“Then we best not waste any more time.”

“Michael, you’re good with animals. Why not help Ajax take care of the Inferleon.”

“Sure, I could use a pair of hands.”

“Count on me, sir!”

“The rest of you can head to the mansion. My friends will put you to work.”

Just as they are leaving, Mikey2k12 stops Dahlia by grabbing her shoulder.

“Hey, um...”

“Yes?”

“I just wanna say thanks.”

“For what?”

“Well, last night...Leo talked to me about what you said to him.”

“I was only telling the truth, Mikey. You deserve that much for all the little things you do.”

“Yeah, but you’re more amazing. I mean, it just took a few words to get Donnie to stop moping around about the uh...the ‘heartbreak thing’. I haven’t seen him smile lately until now. So...I know it was by accident, but...I’m glad we met you, Dahlia.”

The girl smiles before pinching his cheeks.

“If you were my brother, I’d spoil you rotten.”

They laugh while sharing a hug, before they part ways.

[Meanwhile...]

Inside an abandoned warehouse, there lies the hideout of the criminals. Meat-Sweats stationed at his little kitchen. Ghostbear lifting two rundown engines stuck into a pole like a dumbbell. Colton launching clay pigeons for Skeet’s target practice while tinkering with a new project.

♨SIZZLE—SIZZLE~

“Mm~...just the right amount.”

“Hey, pork-belly, when’s the food gonna be out?”

“Patience, Mr. Skeet. Wouldn’t want to spoil the flavor.”

The mohawk man scoffs as he raises his crossbow.

“Pull!”

FLING!

TWIRL/CLACK!

“Woo~! I am on a roll, Colton!”

“I still don’t see why you won’t use one of my pistols, instead. They only shoot blanks.”

“That electrocutes,” Skeet adds.

“What? It just puts them through a short paralysis before blacking out.”

“You see—this is why I don’t socialize with you on deadly high-tech gadgetry.”

FWOOM~!

Just then, Jax and Hypno appear from the cracked portion of the ceiling.

“Hey, boss! How’d it go?”

“As we suspected, those teenagers are scouting for us.”

“That’s going to make it harder for us to plant these devices,” Colton advises.

“Unless they’re distracted,” Hypno suggests.

“Not a bad idea, magician,” Skeet smirks, “I’ll even join in on the fun.”

“Just don’t get trigger happy,” Jax warns, “that being said, you will lead our new friends into shaking those kids off until everything is in order.”

“You got it, Jax.”

“What will you do?”

“Simple, Mr. Swaggart. I will do what I do best.”

Jax uses three of his locks to coil the giant firestone, mirroring his reflection.

“Starting with this.”

Unaware to them, though, two squirrels watch from the skylight before scurrying off to another building.

Squeak-Squeak—Squeak~!

Chirp-Chirp!

Squeak!

From one woodland creature to another, it turns into a channel network that leads up to a certain rodent resident in the deepest parts of the woods.

Bark—Bark-Bark!

“Roger that, Meelo.”

Bzzt!

“This is Lemonade-Sasquatch, calling Sherlock-Corn. Over.”

[Read you loud and clear, Lemonade-Sasquatch.]

[At the Lair...]

“Uh-huh...uh-huh...got it. Thanks, Lemonade-Sasquatch. Over and out.”

April hangs up and looks to the others.

“Looks like those goons are near Todd’s territory.”

“Well, what are we waitin’ for?”

“Hold up, Red-King. We could use this advantage.”

“What cha got in mind, Leon?”

“April, did he tell you anything else?”

“Just that they’re gonna plant tracking devices around the city.”

“Write down all the coordinates. Donnie, you hack into the security cameras pinpointing their targets so we can send the footage to the others to keep them posted.”

“I hope the guys get things done on their part.”

“We better do ours if we’re gonna get ahead.”

[Moments Later...]

WHIRRR~

Donnie2k3 stands beside Nova, watching. Dahlia sits in the middle of crystals surrounding her, which transfers magic into her battered palms that form a bubble.

“This will restore her damaged skin, but recovering her strength is another matter.”

“Urgh!”

“Dahlia?!”

They’re alarmed by the sound of her distressed voice.

“I-I’m fine, Donato, just...gah~ I just forgot how painful this is.”

“Just a little more, Dahlia.”

Nova turns back to Donnie to continue their conversation.

“Honestly, Nova...I haven’t done much helping as of late. I’m not sure what to do at this point.”

“For one thing, you can help me monitor Dahlia during the healing process. Other than that, just be there for her.”

The pheasant smiles and pats his shoulder.

“And you don’t need sorcery to do that.”

[Moments Later...]

TWIRL~!

SHACK!

Brutus swings the axe down onto the stump. Raph2k12 and Dahlia stand in the middle of the field with the wolf.

“Can that really cut a giant rock?”

“It’s a mystic weapon. Guaranteed to slice and dice through any solid material. Alright, Dahlia...you know the drill.”

The girl nods and walks over to the stump. Raph2k12 narrows his eyes with caution, not seeing Brutus slowly reach behind him.

FWOOM!

“Look out!”

WHOOM/SLASH!

KA-THUMP!

In seconds, a crystal is split in half in midair.

FWAP!

Dahlia cringes from gripping too long and drops the axe as well.

“Nice reaction time. Almost had you for a second. Can you keep going?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Then go chop that load over there and use the lighter axe.”

She walks down the field, while Raph2k12 glares at the wolf yokai.

“Seriously,” he criticizes, “what if she couldn’t lift that axe in time?! That chunk of rock would’ve flattened her for sure!”

“Then she would’ve dodged it,” Brutus implies, “besides, do you see her complaining?”

Dahlia rubs her wrist before lifting the axe.

“You can’t treat her as some fragile thing forever. I know it sounds unfair, but you gotta be as determined as she is that things will pull through. Either you’re in this together or not. It’s your call.”

“...”

Brutus gives a light nudge on Raph2k12’s shoulder.

“Keep an eye on things for me, kay? I’ll be back in an hour.”

Once he leaves, Raph2k12 looks back at Dahlia as she chops crystals at a slow pace.

SLICE!

WHUMP!

“...Hah...”

C-Clunk

Dahlia turns to her right to see Raph2k12 with his jacket off and holding the other axe.

“Um, Double-R...what are you doing?”

“What? It’s better than sitting on my shell all day.”

“I’m not so sure you can cut through these right-off-the-bat, though.”

“The big guy said these mystic blades can cut through stone. No biggie.”

Raph2k12 raises the axe and swings down.

CLASH!

“Ah...what the...”

Dahlia giggles when he only makes a few cracks on the surface.

“Did Brutus also tell you that it channels the inner strength of the holder to be more effective?”

“Oh yeah—how long did it take you?”

“Hum...I think I was about...8-yrs-old when I first tried?”

Hearing this makes the turtle groan in defeat.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“I didn’t know we were competing,” she jokes.

“Can’t have you best me in everything,” he chuckles.

They smile and each go at their own pace with their share of the labor. Watching them from the mansion on the second-floor balcony is Leo2k3 and Darin. The serpent glances at the teen, noticing the melancholy expression he portrays.

“You alright, there, Leonardo?”

“Hm? Oh, uh...yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

His inquiry makes the teen turn to him in confusion.

“I’ve always been a good listener towards my friends, so I can tell when something’s wrong.”

“...I....I’m still feeling guilty about the incident.”

“Dahlia mentioned you would say that, despite her forgiveness.”

“I know, but...I’m not sure if I would do any good right now. Not after what happened.”

“You shouldn’t think that way,” Darin advises, “even if you bear some responsibility, that doesn’t mean you need to carry all of it alone. Try not to single yourself out when your friends and family will always be here for you. And I believe now’s a good time as any to step back and leave the rest to the others. Now, come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“...A trip to the past.”

Darin pats his shoulder as he leads Leo2k3 back inside.

>>>>>>>TIMESKIP>>>>>>>

Both sides play their part. April and her team monitor the villains’ activities during the night while avoiding sudden attacks. In the city below, the brothers from different dimensions do all they can to guide Dahlia to a full recovery while sharpening their own skills. Each struggle and carefully plan their next move every step of the way.

After three, long days, Dahlia regains her inner strength as much as her physical state. The men who trained her all her life made sure to test those abilities to the fullest. And all five will agree: her fighting spirit is better than ever. However, there’s one thing she had to take care of before everything comes to place.

[Nightfall 8 p.m.]

Inside the fence where the Inferleon stays, Dahlia sits beside him, stroking his mane as she holds her phone, close.

“...and I mean every word of it. I’ll even say it again, face-to-face if you’d like. Just...get back safe and sound, okay? See you soon.”

Hanging up, she sinks further back into the lion’s mane with a deep sigh.

“Do you think I made the right choice?”

The Inferleon growls, softly, making Dahlia chuckle.

“Yeah...but I would’ve regretted it if I hadn’t.”

Rustle—Rustle~

“!?”

FWIP—SWING!

CLANG!

“AAHHH!”

Using a fraction of her mystic abilities, she snuffs out one of the spies in the bushes.

“Hello, Michael...”

“Uh...hehe...what’s up, girl?”

“Alright, come out everyone.”

Though annoyed, she’s still amused as the other turtles reveal themselves.

“How much did you hear?”

“Um...”

“Well...

“All...of it?”

Dahlia and even the lion groan simultaneously.

“We won’t tell.”

“I’m pretty sure you suspected,” Dahlia smirks, “but I’ll let you off the hook. Now why are you really here?”

“Darin wanted us to get you.”

“They’re gonna put on a show for us.”

“That’s just like them.”

When they go to the backyard of the mansion, they see the yokai setting up instruments.

“Hope you like a classic old shanty.”

“You sound as if you were a sailor, Darin.”

“Better. He was the captain of his own crusaders.”

“And with a voice that could swoon even the sirens.”

“Never would’ve guessed.”

“Oh yeah, all of us has different careers.”

“I was the apprentice of a sorcerer who used magic for medicinal purposes.”

“I used to be a swordsman traveling the world to sharpen my skills.”

“And I was once a private animal caretaker.”

“How did you end up here, then?”

“Eli.”

“Dahlia’s dad?”

“All of us met here in the forest by accident.”

“We had our own problems that day, so we got on each other’s nerves right then and there.”

“That’s when Eli swoops in and whoops our tails till we couldn’t stand up.”

The yokai laugh in remembrance.

“Who would’ve thought a blacksmith could teach an old wolf like me new tricks.”

“And who could forget Jade?”

“A jewel credit to her own name, if I ever did see one.”

“Joining our skills and experience, we helped them build this place from the ground up.”

“Hah...those were some good memories.”

“We heard about what happened to them,” says Donnie2k3.

“Aye, a great loss,” Brutus sighs, “they made anything seem possible.”

“So do you.”

They all turn to see Dahlia coming out of the doorway.

“Where did you run off to, kiddo?”

“In the attic.”

She pulls out a framed picture.

“Is that...”

“This was taken the day dad proposed to mom.”

“Woah~ your dad must’ve been a super cool dragon.”

“And your mom was beautiful.”

“They were, weren’t they?”

Dahlia smiles while running her fingers over the framed glass.

“I hope one day I’ll be as great as them.”

Ajax takes the photo, setting it on a table before bringing her in his arms.

“You already are.”

“The greatest gift they ever gave to this world.”

“And you always will be.”

“...Thank you.”

“No, sweetie...it’s us who should be thanking you.”

The turtles smile at the close relationship they have to a family.

BRIIINNG!

Just then, Dahlia’s phone goes off with a facetime from April.

Beep!

“Go, O’Neil.”

[Heads up, girl. This was taken an hour ago.]

The screen moves till Dahlia sees Jax and Hypno on a security camera, using chalk to draw on rooftops from different angles.

[Can you make out those symbols?]

“Looks like a conjuring spell.”

“Yeah, but for what?”

[We’ll soon find out, tomorrow night.]

“Thanks, April. Get some rest. We’ll see you at the rendezvous point.”

[Got it. O’Neil, out.]

Hanging up, Darin gets their attention when standing.

“Alright...tomorrow begins the fight of your lives. It’s all up to you, now.”

“Thanks for everything, gentlemen.”

“We’ll send a few punches their way for you.”

“But for tonight, we’ll send you off celebrating. Would you care to join the band, Dahlia?”

“Just this once.”

“Lemme get in on the fun, too.”

“You can use my tambourine.”

“This ought to be good.”

The calming atmosphere settles before the storm comes their way. Even so, no matter the dangers lurking ahead, they won’t go down without a fight. They won’t give up on the place and the people they care for. And tomorrow...they will prove that resolution.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #imagine4000 collection #imagine4000 fanfiction #turtle rush fanfic #turtle rush part 7 #rise of the tmnt fanfic

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rebel666 · 5 years ago

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Confessions of a Joann Employee

UPDATE: If you want to send more confessions and/or report what’s happening at your Joann anonymously, there’s EmployeeJoann on Twitter that is responding to messages. They are constantly sharing and updating more as it becomes available to them!

A confession from a Joann employee that is in one of the Covid-19 effected areas and has so much to say about it:

-We are staying open until told by the state otherwise. Even though they declared a State of Emergency and all non-essential businesses must be shut down by 5pm on Saturday 3/21, our company is refusing to. Because Joann themselves is trying to deem Joann as an "essential" store. They even put it all over their website that we are here for the people making masks and small businesses who need fabric to continue. They quote that we are here for the customers and that we as United States Americans have a responsibility to fill this need. They aren’t looking at curbside only as an option, they aren’t looking at offering more benefits for shopping online, they want us open and people in stores. They are sending us emails with pieces of paper (unofficial, not state made) to print out and put in our cars to say we are on the way to work at an "essential retailer." Anything to make it so we can remain open.

-This sucks for employees and here’s why: The way Joann is set up is if we get sick, if we have to leave to take care of someone who is sick, if we want to self-quarantine (because of our health or the health of our loved ones), we either quit or ask to be put on Leave of Absence and cannot return without medical clearance. If we come into contact with someone who has Covid-19 (even if they came into the store), they request we stay home while the rest of us have to work even if we were standing right next to them. As long as we don’t display symptoms, we are expected to show up or we can request LoA. LoA does not pay us. The only way we as employees will be taken care of is if the store closes AND if we have two weeks of schedules set up. I was hoping the company was on the path to this when they had us cancel all the classes until May and then limited hours but all that went out the window today. Right now Joann is doing everything to prevent us from closing and in turn take care of their employees. Every single time I bring up our well-being, I get reminded that we need to think about the customer first.

-Our store is step up to have daily conference calls to talk about the current status and to express any concerns we have. I brought up the status about my county (our major has declared everyone be shut down as of 5pm tomorrow or the police will be involved) and that I am deeply concerned for us and they told me that we have a responsibility as a leader to keep everyone calm and to keep working through this. ***When I asked what if everyone in my store requests a Leave of Absence because we are all very much concerned about our health, they said, "We will replace you with team members from other stores. There are service industry people and travel workers looking for jobs and we will fill your positions with people who will work it."*** They straight up told me that we are replaceable/expendable because they value their "customers/money." It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been with the company. It all means nothing to them.

-They are sending out emails about what Joann is doing as a whole for Covid-19. Saying we are cleaning every hour and whatnot. What they fail to mention is we are a fabric store with no means of washing fabric. I see people on a daily basis cough into, wipe their snot on, kids place in their mouth, and all sorts of other nasty things into these bolts of fabric (seriously, wash the fabric you buy from Joann before doing anything). We have the basic cleaning supplies to wash floors and wipe counters with but that’s pretty much it. They are telling us as employees to bring in our own supplies if we can. An employee brought in gloves long ago just so we can use them to clean the bathrooms. Today I provided face masks for my fellow coworkers. Our store may look clean but we know its dirty little secrets.

-We are supposed to follow the whole 10 people rule but they do nothing to stop or limit people at the door and won’t do anything to enforce it. All while wanting us to cut hours to which is barely 2 people running the whole store for smaller Joann locations. It’s not safe for us to be on a bare-bones crew especially if they want us to remain an essential store.

-Joann before this was a great place to work. At least for my store. I love my store, I love the people I work with. Other stores I have heard horror stories from but mine was one of the good ones. I see them being bombarded on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to close. Not just by employees and families of employees but by concerned customers. And this pleases me because they need to take this seriously. What they do in the next 3 days will speak volumes on how much they listen to and care about us. This is a serious issue and we as employees are suffering.

As they report more, I will continue to add to this.

UPDATE 3/21: They emailed and made copies of this for employees to carry with them in their cars:

Now the CEO of Joann is also a piece of work. All you have to do is google his name and you’ll see the Walgreen’s lawsuit, his DUIs (yes, plural), and his impact on Joann since joining - which includes increasing prices because of the tariffs. One employee confirms that when tariff thing went into effect, the entire store was repriced. Some markups were a few cents but some were a few dollars. Since then the prices continue to fluctuate.

There is also a petition going on Change.org asking for Joann to Close Their Stores And Pay Employees

If you get a chance, read some of the comments people are putting in support of this:

I no longer feel safe in my workplace. The greed is sickening.

My employees deserve to be treated like people and make a livable wage and have benefits! Our health over their profit!

Staff at my local store have been asked to bring in their own gloves for cleaning. Hand sanitizer expired in 2012. Employees are reporting little to know cleaning supplies in a store that targets the elderly as a primary demographic. The material used in the masks is not medical grade. This company is shamelessly profiteering from the pandemic.

As a former employee and manager I know the company does not follow any real cleaning guidelines. They understaff their stores, overwork their employees and frown upon time off. Fabrics and crafts are not essential items at this time and since the majority of the clientele there are elderly i think they are creating more risk. Finally do something good for your employees and send gem home with pay

As a previous manager, I'm sad to say that this company does not value its workers. To see that they are putting their workers, and others who visit, at a continued risk is unbelievable and is extremely selfish. Now is the time to act and stop the spread of COVID-19 and to keep Joann's open does not help stop the spread in anyway shape or form.

Over the last two days, my local store decided to carry on with inventory. They brought in an inventory team from the area of our state with the vast majority of cases. It's one thing to not close and continue to expose the public to the risk, but decisions like these show that Jo-Anns has a blatant disregard for the wellbeing of its employees and customers. Even more telling is the fact that we know that you are seeing our pleas to do the right thing, but continue to ignore us on social media. There is only one reason that you are pushing to categorize Jo-Anns as an essential business, and that is greed. In fact, I had to spend my own money on gas to drive all over the city looking for more cleaning supplies after my manager ordered me to. Your employees do so much for you, and we are compensated very little. I have been at Jo-Anns long enough to know that you would never compensate us for our time off, but at least join the other non-essential business and shut down for the time being.

joann’s customer base is primarily elderly or otherwise at risk people, and many employees are also older or immunocompromised. employees are overwhelmed as we can’t keep up with the cleaning guidelines while also taking care of customers, not to mention we’re severely lacking in cleaning supplies in the first place. joann is encouraging people to come in for supplies to make face masks, yet these masks aren’t sterile since people touch and breathe on the fabric all day, and it’s then laid on the counter to be measured and cut. employees themselves aren’t even allowed to wear masks or gloves. joann cares more about profit than the safety of both their team members and customers.

There are so many comments I want to share. These are just a few. This is Joann. They care more about their image and their financial gains than the backbone of their stores. The people who put up with their ridiculous requests day in and day out are now at risk and putting others at risk. Places like Hot Topic closed down and took care of their employees, places like Joanns should too!

But also lets not forget, Hobby Lobby is also not taking Covid-19 seriously.

UPDATE 3/22: “We have signs saying we're cleaning more but found out Friday that we're out of supplies in the distribution center. They claim they will send them out once they receive any but I found out today from a truck driver the company that supplies everything for Joann (from inventory to store use items) is closed for 2 weeks... because of this they're telling us to use the bathroom cleaner as a substitute.”

From Joann Employee Confessions on Twitter:

Confession 17 - Our Joann was closed! We received a C&D from the Chief of Police! We were so ecstatic as employees when they came in and told us to cease all business operations! Not even curbside! BUT then we had to tell our District Manager... and everything changed.

Our DM told us to come back to work tomorrow because he was going to have Joann's lawyers work on it. My heart sank. Them being open was more important. So I went into work and it was so nice not being open to the public. We finally caught up on recovery and cleaning! All things we have neglected the past week because it's been too busy for us to keep up! All of us were in great spirits and it was the best day ever. Until our DM called... and he told us to section off all the "non-essential" parts of the store.

Fabric and sewing notions were deemed essential and we would be open to the public the next day. No curbside only. Nope. People were to come right back in and nothing about limitations. Nothing about cleaning our disgusting fabric. Just to section off half the store so the public could come in and buy all the fabric and sewing supplies they could want. And to add to that... they are doing a remnant promotion where all the spare pieces are free to the customer now! Another thing for our already spare crew to do when we don't have time!

I am honestly so shattered over how the Chief of Police who seemed so interested in our well-being backed out of this. We are exposed once again. 3 of us tonight took Leave of Absence papers tonight because we don't feel safe. This was the final nail in the coffin.

UPDATE - My coworker messaged me, “Got up at 10:00 to get ready for work. A text came in saying the store is closed and I don't have to come to work. Seems there was a conference call. It appears the state is involved and overrode the mayor!” But Joann is still fighting it. This is a day by day thing. They are telling us if we want hours we have to go to another store. If not, we have to put in our leave of absence.

More articles coming through right now:

These Retailers Refused To Close During The Pandemic, So An Illinois City Shut Them Down

Joann Fabrics' mask-making promotion raises questions

Gregory said the masks were being donated to Rush Oak Park Hospital in Oak Park and to Northwestern Medicine Delnor Hospital in Geneva – but spokespeople for both those hospitals said it was not true.“Due to infection control measures, Northwestern Medicine cannot accept donations of handmade masks, gowns and other medical supplies,” according to an email from Kimberly Waterman, spokeswoman for Northwestern Medicine Delnor. “Only factory-made, hospital-quality supplies, including N95 masks, face shields, gloves, gowns, sanitizers and swabs can be donated.”

“There is no barrier,” White said. “Once [handmade cloth masks] get wet, I don’t think they’re that effective.” (I can confirm. A RN confirmed with me that cloth masks collect moisture which acts as a magnet for infections.)

#covid2019 #covidー19 #covid19 #joann #joannfabrics #employeescomefirst #confessions #confessionsofanemployee #capitalism should die #what is wrong with America #fabric store problems #burn down the corporations #rise up for what you believe in #stand strong #i will not shut up #hobbylobby #make the change #whistleblower

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fieldbears · 4 years ago

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It seems like you know a lot about skin care. I'm 28 now and honestly dont really bother with it (except to take off make up and using sunscreen). I'm 28 now and feel like my skin's fine but wonder if there's stuff it actually needs. With skincare being such a huge industry it's hard to understand what ingredients skin actually needs bc I feel companies (& influencers) try to sell you a lot of shit you don't need and maybe even makes your skin worse. Any tips where to start? Thank u

Hey friend! I love helping newbies. I absolutely do have tips. And a two-product two-step regimen. You can get it for under $40 and it should last you 6 months or more.

First off, there is ABSOLUTELY a ton of shit you don’t need. That is a good instinct. You can always pay more for a product and you can always add more steps to your routine, but that doesn’t mean that you’re actually getting more out of it. The first thing you should ask yourself is, what do you want out of your skincare?

SUNSCREEN: For someone who isn’t sure what they want or what they should do, my first question is how much time you spend in the sun. The one thing you can do to really permanently damage your skin is to spend a lot of time in the sun without any sunscreen. Basically: blah blah rays of sun blah blah destroys the collagen, aka squishy bouncy bonds between cells, blah blah, destroyed collagen means the skin sags more, meaning wrinkles.

(It is also, I hope I don’t need to say, dangerous for Cancer Reasons to get a ton of non-screened sun exposure. But I’m assuming that’s a given here.)

Like I said in the last post, southeast Asian sunscreen options are a huge improvement on what you find on the shelves here in the States because they have more stringent laws on what chemicals are okay to put in a product. But if you stick with what you can grab at CVS, that’s fine too - just make sure you google the brand and type and make sure the SPF is for real. (Some products marketed at, say, SPF 45 are actually proven to only be SPF 15. It’s like the olive oil bullshit all over again!)

There are also a lot of moisturizers available with SPF protection in them.

WHICH LEADS ME TO MY AMAZING TWO-STEP SYSTEMMMMM...

CLEANSE AND MOISTURIZE: There are seven-step processes out there, but what you really need to start with, and will get a ton out of if you aren’t doing anything right now, is cleansing and moisturizing.

The science explanation for doing this: blah blah your skin generates oils from your pores in order to create a protective barrier between your flesh and the elements, but said oils can get gunky once they’ve accumulated all the particulates from the air, and there can even be backups and miscommunications and over-oilage if you have dead skin cells sitting on top of your new skin, or stuff gets all the way into your pores, blocking the system, causing breakouts. So skincare is about removing everything on top of your skin, maybe adding fancy stuff in the middle, but absolutely creating a new barrier for your skin at the end, to replace the one you took off. I liken it to varnish on a painting - it’s meant to sit on top, collect all the dust, and get removed and replaced over time. But don’t just wash your face every 20-80 years. The metaphor only goes so far. Anyway.

Here is how to get into my absolutely bare minimum regimen:

PICK A CLEANSER: If you wear/remove makeup a lot, and/or have a very oily complexion, pick an oil-based cleanser. Oil-based means it’s good at removing makeuppy things and your natural oil. Otherwise, pick a water-based cleanser. CeraVe cleansers are available at Walgreens and they are affordable. It is available, affordable, clinically gentle on various skin types, and by god, it does indeed wash all the shit off your face.I have tried a lot of expensive water-based cleansers and I still come back to this one. That $16 pump bottle will last you a long time, too.

PICK A MOISTURIZER: I’m back on my CeraVe shit here because if you’re overwhelmed and don’t know what to pick, I’m gonna push you to the easy-to-pay-for, easy-to-find product that won’t make you break out. And it’s got SPF! If you want to get fancier, check out some options here. I currently use Laneige moisturizers, which are at Sephora and... other places. Idk. (And to repeat my last post: if you can’t stand having things sitting on your skin, even a moisturizer that will absorb over a minute or so, Laneige Cream Skin Toner & Moisturizer essentially feels like water.)

SHOWER STEP: You have both your products. Now. Put your cleanser in your shower. When you shower, use it to wash your face. In the shower, you can splash and splash to your heart’s content. Get your neck, your cleavage, any extra places you feel have an oiliness problem. But remember them for later, because you want to moisturize all spots you cleansed. (Also, if you’ve been using soap or anything else to wash your face up until now... stop that. Cleanser is much better.)

AFTER SHOWER STEP: Dry off and pat on that moisturizer. Make sure you apply it with clean hands. Rub it in gently and make sure all cleansed areas are now moisturized.

That’s it.

No, really, that’s my advice for beginners. Two products, one done in the shower. You have to do them in order. That’s it.

If you have the spoons to do this routine twice a day, around when you get up and right before bed, you’ll get even better results. But if you’re just starting out and get anxious about new routines, don’t sweat it. Your face’s cells turn over every 30 days or so, so if you keep this up every day for about two weeks, you’ll start seeing improvements by then.

Bonus newb tips:

About once a week, use a COMPLETELY CLEAN terrycloth washcloth to apply your cleanser. Get your (gentle) scrub on. Mechanical exfoliation basically means you’re using a brush, a cloth, something physical to remove everything from your face, including things like dead skin, which gentle cleansing may not have gotten. Doing it too often isn’t helpful, as you can only build up so much stuff to remove over time, and scrubbing too hard or too frequently can lead to frightening your skin, causing redness. So once a week is likely plenty. If you like the battery-operated brushes, go for it, but they cost way more than the clean washcloth.

You will see options for chemical exfoliation too. If you identify as a newb, I don’t recommend this. Chemical exfoliations aren’t bad per se, but are one of the few skincare things that can be done wrong, and in a way that can really upset your skin. Washcloth!

Are you replacing your pillowcases on a regular basis? I try to do once a week but I probably end up with closer to two weeks. Nobody’s perfect. But remembering to do this is a very easy way to help your skin out.

If you get your cleanse-and-moisturize routine down pat, 2x a day, and you want the next step, look into toners. They help your skin absorb the moisturizer more efficiently... science reasons. The toner goes on before the moisturizer, but again, your skin should be dry before you start.

There are ampoules, essences, treatments, and other fancy names for... very specific shit. Basically, if you have a specific problem, especially in a specific area of your face, chances are there is a specific tiny expensive bottle you can integrate into the middle of your routine to help with that. But there is a lot of snake oil out there and I don’t want anybody buying these solutions if they aren’t already managing the daily wash-and-protect, because you’d be surprised how many things that can fix.

If you have problems with breakouts or other bad reactions to some skin products, do your best to only introduce one new product at a time. That way if you start having a reaction, you don’t have to guess what caused it.

No matter what is or isn’t going on with your skin, your worth is not affected one iota. Whether I have three pimples and incredible redness around my cheekbone and nose area, making me look like a character mug of a drunken sailor, or whether or my skin is the cool, poreless ivory of Grecian marble, I am still the exact same perfect bitch. And so are you.

#Anonymous #skincare

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theramseyloft · 4 years ago

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i read your long pigeon poop post, and after some poking around online i saw that a loft in melbourne australia failed. do you have any idea why that is?

Oh... my fucking God. I am so furious.

Look at this thing!

$70,000 went into this monstrosity?

It looks like they converted a fucking water tower by punching holes in it and welding on entryways shaped like the stereotypical toddler’s first house drawing!

Who fucking researched this?!

Was it designed by a committee purely by aesthetic?!

Here is an article I found on it’s decomission and removal.

https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/melbourne-city-councils-70000-pigeon-loft-turned-into-scrap-metal-20160724-gqcmsc.html

According to the pigeon expert quoted in this article:

“Frank Hayes is the president of the Australian National Pigeon Association. While his group is mostly interested in show pigeons, a different breed to the city pests, he says it was fairly predictable the coop idea was never going to work.”

“ "The nature of the pigeon is that they find a home and they stick with it. So finding them somewhere else to go is a bit of a dream," said Mr Hayes.”

“ "Trying to shift them is one big headache. It's a worldwide problem and no one has ever figured out how to deal with it." ”

LOOK at this structure!!!

It’s made of fucking METAL!!!

In AUSTRAILIA!!!

In the fucking OPEN!!!!

From this charming article:

http://melbournedailyphotodaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/pigeon-loft-batman-park.html

“The loft is painted with light coloured corrosion resistant to reflect the heat and minimise internal over-heating. It houses two hundred nesting boxes for pigeon breeding. Eggs laid will be replaced with artificial eggs intended as a humane way to control and reduce pigeon numbers.”

That is a metal structure in the Melbourne sun...

No amount of Paint is gonna make that less an oven.

And I can’t imagine you can add anything to paint to make it corrosion resistant that isn’t noxious in a small space when the metal under it heats up.

“Bird feeding around the loft base is permitted to attract birds out of the CBD to this area. Bird feeding is not permitted in any other area around the CBD.”

But the city council is not actually providing the birds with good quality fed...

“... and no one has ever figured out how to deal with it."

No one, you ignorant twit?

NO ONE?!?!

Here is the site of a successful branch of the German Stadttauben Projekt, translated:

https://stadttauben-stuttgart.de/

“The Stuttgart pigeon project

Dear prospective customers,

nice that you found our homepage. We would like to introduce our project to you on the following pages:

The Stuttgart City Pigeon Project is an animal welfare-friendly concept for regulating and reducing city pigeons for the benefit of people and animals. We operate several supervised pigeon shots in the Stuttgart city area, in which the pigeons are cared for and their eggs are exchanged for dummies so that no offspring hatch. By the end of 2019, there had been well over 45,000 eggs. By feeding grain mixtures in our shots, the animals are no longer forced to look for food on the streets and squares in the area. They spend 80% of the day and the entire night in the dovecote. Ergo - your droppings also stay there and no longer land on roofs or balconies.

We were awarded the Baden-Württemberg State Animal Protection Award 2015 for our commitment .

The city pigeon is one of the most successful residents of the urban living space and today populates all major cities worldwide. It is the free-living descendant of the wild rock pigeons from the coastal and mountain areas in Africa and Eurasia. Long ago, the rock pigeons were domesticated by humans primarily for the purpose of meat production and thus also carried to our latitudes and cities. In modern times, the stock of the archetypal rock pigeon increasingly mixed with breeding, racing and sports pigeons that either escaped, were abandoned or, exhausted by exhausting competitive flights, ran aground in the cities. Today's city pigeons are the overgrown children and children's children of these rock, breeding and sports pigeons.

In cooperation with the state capital of Stuttgart, the Tierschutzverein Stuttgart und Umgebung eV launched the pigeon project in 2008. The cooperation was formed with the aim of bringing about a permanent and humane solution to the city pigeon problem.

The concept of the Federal Working Group for City Pigeons or the so-called * Augsburg Model * was helpful. It is based on scientific publications, practical experience and has already been successfully recommended by several federal states such as Hesse, North Rhine-Westphalia and Baden-Württemberg. Today it is implemented in more than 80 German cities and towns. For example, there are pigeon houses looked after in Aachen, Augsburg, Hamburg, Berlin, Frankfurt, Saarbrücken and Wuppertal.

We aim for a small, supervised and healthy pigeon population in Stuttgart. Then the image of the city pigeon may rise again. Because healthy animals, which have a permanent home and receive animal feed, do not bother anyone!”

https://stadttauben-stuttgart.de/?page=1,0,0,Chronik+%26+Fakten

“Care instead of fighting: our chronicle

2008:The first step was a dovecote at platform 1 in Stuttgart main station

2009:The second blow was made in the roof of the Leonhardskirche

2009:The third pigeon house was on the Mühlgrün parking garage in Bad-Cannstatt, which has since been demolished and replaced by the pigeon tower in the rope

2010:The fourth facility was the pigeon tower in the city garden on Max-Kade-Weg

2011:The fifth pigeon house stood on the roof of the town hall garage until February 2016. Reconstruction on the roof of the city comb in April 2016.

2011:The sixth dovecote was a second stroke on the roof of the Leonhardskirche (other roof side)

2013:The seventh dovecote was built in the roof of the Fairkauf building in Stuttgart-Feuerbach

2014:The eighth pigeon loft was built (as a replacement for the location at the main station) on a flat roof in the Kriegsbergstrasse

2016:Dovecote number 9 was inaugurated in July 2016 at the Marienplatz in Stuttgart in the roof structure of the imperial building

2017:

On Landhausstrasse in the east of Stuttgart, we were able to set up dovecote No. 10 in the attic of a residential building. It was opened in June 2017

2018:In summer, an indoor pigeon tower was opened at Seilerwasen in Bad Cannstatt as a replacement for the Mühlgrün pigeon house

2019In autumn a new pigeon facility was inaugurated at the station in Zuffenhausen and the first egg was laid in December.

In addition, a dovecote (trailer) on the grounds of the shelter Stuttgart and Nistwand for about 30 pigeons on the will of the ASPCA Stuttgart House Adam Müller-Guttenbrunn in Stuttgart Zuffenhausen care.

... more dovecotes are to follow!

Health hazard facts

A health hazard due to pigeons flying around, running and sitting can be largely excluded. New scientific studies have shown (again) that pathogens that may be contained in the pigeon droppings are usually bird-specific and are therefore not transmitted to humans. This was confirmed in 1995 by the Federal Ministry of Health.

The general classification of the pigeon as a pest was withdrawn by the Federal Institute for Consumer Health Protection back in 1989 on the basis of research results at the time and the opinion from 2001.

Feed facts about pigeons

Feeding pigeons in Stuttgart is prohibited on public land. Well-meaning pigeon friends increase the population density of the city pigeons by regular feeding in the same place, without offering the additionally attracted animals sleeping and nesting places where they are tolerated or the clutch can be exchanged. This creates people who work there or often live more pigeon hate and more pigeon misery.

Above all, too many food scraps are thrown away on the streets and squares of the city! This waste is mostly not compatible with pigeons. They lead to illnesses, shortages and thus, among other things, to the unsightly liquid starvation. Nevertheless, due to the scarcity of bird-friendly feed in cities, these human foods are usually the main basis for the feeding of city pigeons, but their organism is designed for pure hard grain feed. So this means sick pigeon populations that nonetheless reproduce disproportionately due to their (pet) genes raised by humans.

If you would like to help sustainably, please contact us. Only other supervised dovecotes in the city area (including food and egg exchange) start at the root of the "problem". We welcome any support!”

From their gallery:

Here is a loft.

Small, wooden, well insulated from heat and cold.

Those openings are not the nests. They are just doorways with a landing ledge designed around the comfort of pigeons, which are social birds.

Here is the inside.

Lots of comfortable nest boxes, perches in the back, food, water, comfortable socialization space...

Here is an entry into another loft currently in use.

Here is the inside.

Water and feed are provided by the care takers. You can see feed and drinking stations all over the floor.

And this is the inside of a huge new loft in Frankfurt.

These German Taubbenhauses are designed around meeting the birds’ needs for food, comfort, safety from the elements, and socialization with their flock mates.

None of these birds had to be coerced or forcibly relocated.

Because their needs were better met, they came on their own.

Look at the $70,000 Melbourne monstronsity again!

More specifically, look at the bridge behind it.

And tell me where you would rather me.

Compact metal tower designed exclusively around convenient human access, metal nest boxes, 0 landing platforms, no socialization space, no protection from the elements, still no choice but to forage for what ever garbage people toss you...

or the comfortably Cool space under a concrete bridge with a convenient water source.

Three guesses what’s more comfortable for the pigeons.

Now, would you rather live under a bridge with constant noise from traffic, open to predators,

A well insulated apartment building with comfortable suites, a spacious common area, and a nutritious free meal plan with clean water included by default.

"It's a worldwide problem and no one has ever figured out how to deal with it."

My ass, Mr. Hayes!

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shelf-care · 4 years ago

Text

Obsession

Part 4 of the lipstick mark series.

This really isn’t an X OC for creed, but this part is entirely about him and his character and how they had met kinda. I’m saving that for down the line.

Warnings: Creed being Creed.

Everything in life starts with your mindset. It reveals something about who you are and what you do. Is it the way you look at the problems of the world, or the way you want to see the universe around you? Who knows, the world is screwed. Nothing can even start to explain how bad things can get. Maybe that explains the way I am.

Victor Creed (Weapon X Journal log 1996)

“Tell me what she’s been doing.” The claw on his right hand ran down the interns face, cutting his flesh open in the thinest line, trailing from his eye, over the bridge of his nose, and then down to his lips. The young man couldn’t be more than twenty two at the most. A Harvard graduate, top of his class in genetic theory and chemistry. The man swallowed, “I can’t give you that information sir. I don’t have the clearance level.” He gasped as Creed released him from his grip, only because he didn’t want to get another strike on his record, to which he had six. “Tell me who does.” Yellow eyes watch his every move, a lion seeking to devour his prey in an instant if he made any sudden moves. “Doctor Striker. He’s the director of Project Trojan horse. He specifically chose Agent Hope for the operation.” The man scoffed, watching a long and thick track of blood slowly pulling down from the cut he’d left on the kids face. “Strikers back.” He smiled. “Missed that sick bastard.” He wiped his claws clean on his coat, then opened the door to leave. “Thanks kid, you were a big help. Make sure to change those pant’s o’ yours.” He chuckled with his white teeth piercing the dim room, his back turning to leave the kid alone and utterly terrified.

With every step Victor couldn’t decide wether or not to be giddy or to curb his excitement out of premature celebration. She was his, had been that way for the last few years. A few months didn’t change that. She was like his light in the dark, his morning star. Why did she not see what she was to him? He’d only felt this one other time before. A burning, and ache for the things that were real. She was the last of the real breed. The type of people who would do anything to save the world. Him? He’d sacrifice the world in a heart beat for her. He’d do annoying to hold her in his arms as they laid contemplating life as they stared at the ceiling. He missed the way she smelled after a night in the rain, running his claws through her thick curls. He scoffed to himself. He became soft, his obsession drove him mad, but it was the best kind. It was like a hunt that would never let him go. The excitement, the raw adrenaline he’d always loved as young man. As his boots connected with the grated floor he heard muffled voices discussing a recent development on “Hopes” mission. Creed was more than curious, he wanted to know what was so important. Tapping in his verification code, the door slid open to the side. Stepping in all the doctors in the room became like a funeral parlor. Dead eyes staring at him all the while folding his arms with a grin on his face. “No continue Doctor Striker.” He gave the man at the table the floor. “I don’t think thats wise Creed. Considering that the topic is about your Former commander, not to mention Ex lover of sorts and her current conditions.” He scoffed again. “She’s still my girl.” He said as a joke but with the hidden agenda of something Striker couldn’t place, but at the same time he’d known what Victor was planning. “Its inappropriate, and is currently on a top level clearance need to know basis.” Creeds steps thundered across the room, every step a low roll of a storm threatening those around it. “Then by all means Doctor, remove me.” He sat down at the table, legs placed on top of the table with research papers under his boots. Picking one up and placing over he saw lots of long wards that he couldn’t be bothered to try and decipher. “The way I see it. Theres something you don’t want me knowing about because she’s become more than just an operative and sleeper agent.” He lent forward, his hair curtaining most of his face. Striker removed his glasses, giving them a rub with a cleaning cloth, then pushed them up the bridge of his nose as he was finished. “You’re not as idiotic as you look.” He commented. Creed chuckled in a rather dark tone. “You’d be surprised on what goes on in here.” He motioned with his rather large index claw to his temple. Creed stood up again, towering over the sitting Striker. Without even looking below, Victor snatched up the latest report from the physical they had run just earlier that day on an “Agent Hope.” As he flipped through the report, there were pictures of her. Her face, physical features that looked foreign to him even if they had been intimate many times before. “He glanced down at a picture that he was even more unfamiliar to him. An almost entirely black photograph, dates were written in the corners, the time, subject, and then the being. “Fetus X.” Was the name they had given the photo. “Fetus X?” He threw the file back n the table. This time the cool demeanor of Striker fading away. “I told you this was the concern of our department and the state of Toronto. Creeds hand wrapped itself around Strikers weasel like neck. Living him off the floor and over Victors head, he could hear the oxygen leave the room as the other scientists and Doctors watched on in horror and stuck to their seats, too afraid to leave. “You knocked her up? And you didn’t even have the damn decency to let me know? You’re turning her into a damn Petri dish!” He squeezed hard enough to make Striker jump, and as a result make his glasses fall and hit the floor. “We supplemented her Birth control, we needed this to happen.” He explained. “Keep going.” The threat became even more real as Creeds claws started to draw blood. “Weapon X, is the biological father. We needed his DNA, we need to know w-what makes his mutation so lethal.” After hearing this he threw The man into the nearest wall. HIs body hit the ground like a stack of bricks hit concrete. Victor said nothing as he started to leave the room. As he rubbed his neck, Striker regained his confidence. “If it changes anything, she wants this child.” Creeds stare was the coldest and murderous you could ever imagine seeing. The yellow orange eyes of his filled with such anger it could rival that of a volcanos lava that had just reached the surface.

“You better pray that I don’t find her first.”

#victor creed x oc #wolverine x oc #wolverine x reader #victor creed x reader #X-men OC #X-MEN FANFIC #X-men #marvel #marvel x reader #sabertooth x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #avengers #Weapon X

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Note

OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO CONTINUE THE DROWNED SERIES, IT'S SO DAMN GOOD

Thank you for the ask, it makes me excited to see that people are still interested.

Drowning Part 10

@shydragonrider @asrasmysoulmate @sunflower1000

This one is kind of short, and probably makes no sense, but it starts to explain the story line a bit more and what my goal is with Supervillain (and perhaps the reason I am not having him rescued... yet 👀). Anyway, not edited.

Ask games for this series are here and here.

Masterlist

Warnings: referring to person as "it", altered state of reality, dehumanization, muzzled, talk of surgery, weaponizing a human, fear

"Okay thank you for your cooperation," the director said as he stopped the recording. He looked up, smiled, and began to pack away his things- an array of various instruments to enable both Villain and Hero's voices to be clearly heard all the way at the Hero Facility.

"Yeah well, I expect my pay within the next two days," Villain crossed his arms and swung his leg over top of the other one.

"That may not be-"

"Director. I am doing this for you guys. I have my record cleared, Hero in my custody, and a billionaire. I don't need to this for you guys."

"But you are in love with the cash," Hero chimed in, rolling her forestry green eyes. Not with attitude or snarky annoyance, but out of pure loathing.

Villain shot her a glare the second she closed her mouth and stood up, pacing. "I want my pay, fifty-thousand for a mere conversation isn't something you come by everyday," he said, rubbing his hands through his blonde mane.

"Yes but-"

"The only reason it was fifty-thousand," Hero interrupted the director. "Is because you pushed it that far." She didn't exactly understand her exasperation. After all, she agreed to do this with him- not that she had a choice. She was, in fact, thankful for him for breaking her out of the facility, even to the point of restoring friendship.

"Well they consented..." Villain's voice trailed off as he stopped his aimless walking. He sneered, a mischievous look dawning on his face. "I could, just for the record, break Supervillain out of his cell easily. Actually, I bet a novice could."

The director stiffened, fingers tapping the screen on his phone, prepare to call the authorities. Hero smiled slightly. After her aided escape, the heroes didn't bother to recapture her or Villain. And it was all because her rescuer threatened the Hero Facility if they tried to reclaim her. It was like he controlled the heroes- and maybe in a way, he did.

"Okay you will get the money! Write him a check or cash him over some. I don't care, just give it to him."

Villain snickered at the director's desperation and fear.

Hero watched as a young girl scribbled a check and handed it to Villain. Then, after than transaction, the whole team wrapped up and left without another word.

"Hmm," Villain said, eyeing the check he possessed.

"What do you want for dinner?" Hero asked, repeating the lines her current maid position required of her- not that she had to, Villain was not strict enough to enforce rules, but cleaning and cooking seemed to put his explosiveness at ease.

"Nothing. I have a date."

A date?!

"You have a girlfriend?" Hero chuckled. "Who is the unlucky damsel?"

"That's besides the point, but she is quite pretty."

"How long have you been dating?"

"This is our third date within the course of two months."

Two months... that was duration of time since she and Supervillain were kidnapped.

"Not that consistent then," Hero commented instead of voicing her curiosity.

"She works as a nurse, so she is quite busy," Villain replied, folding the check and placing it in his jean's pockets.

"I see," Hero replied. "Where is your date? Please tell me you are not taking her to McDonald's."

"That coffee date in the park sounded great," Villain replied. "Then I was thinking Taco Bell."

"No, no, no!" Hero scolded, pushing herself to her feet. "You are not taking this poor girl on a date to a fast food restaurant. You are a billionaire, Villain. Take her to one of those places where they serve an ounce of food for thirty dollars and spoil her."

Villain blushed, pulling at his fingers nervously. "You know a couple months ago I thought I would be taking you on a date."

"Me too," Hero sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

"I guess life took a turn, didn't it?"

"Yes," Hero replied, extending her arms and wrapping Villain in an embrace. Before she let go, she whispered:

"Torture was in that turn to, wasn't it?"

Villain's muscles tensed, he coughed and pulled away. "See you tonight," he said and ran up the stairs to go get changed.

《~~》

All at once, a piece of light, a string of consciousness sprouted through the dark unconsciousness of the patient's mind. It swirled, bombarding lidded eyes with intolerable brightness. They strained, trying to shut, but it was as if the motor lost control- or gained control, depending on which side of the metaphor you are one.

Then the light formed into various shapes, some holding objects of humanoid form whereas others were cubical, rectangular and circular- making the world around the patient pixelated and blurry. Colors rounded to the basis of their hue- cyan swirling into blue, pale yellow whisking itself into an off-white- until the world was a pallette of bland coloring.

The noise, lolling in a sense, but also increasingly obnoxious. Beeps and rings, rumbles and grumbles, but all the vowels and consonants equaled a series of off-tune words, some faded, others marked with clarity.

Not safe, were the only cognitive thoughts. Not safe not safe not safe. He tried to thrash, anything to get away from the looming danger, though his protruding limbs were too weak, will devoid of any resolve.

More sounds rumbled and purred around him as equally slow restraints grappled at his arms and legs- or were they fast paced? The man didn't know. The perception between reality and unreality was dim, as was his ability to process sleed and direction. Heck, he didn't even know his own name, just the anticipated danger.

He coughed, or tried to, some form of blockade in his mouth inhibited any sound, cough or otherwise, to escape. Tears pricked at his eyes, later streaming down his cheeks- he wanted to go home. Home to that dank apartment that couldn't seem to leave his very intellect. He wanted home, needed home...

The shapes around him once again began to evaporate, but this time instead of mixing into like shades and tones of color, they all shifted to one mass of brown-colored mud before it all vanished into blackness again.

《~~》

"Vitals?"

The doctor's voice ran throughout the room as nurses scrambled to check Supervillain over. The room soon sung with a chorus of "Good".

"Then everyone is dismissed other than Doctor and Medic," a new voice, equally as authoritive yet significantly much more of a feminine type.

All the nurses practically galloped out of the room as a hoard, not daring to look at the woman who just stepped in.

"Leader," the doctor greeted the woman. "What brings you here?"

"I've come to look at the project. I heard it just underwent surgery?" The lady spoke, walking up to the bed where the unconscious patient rested.

"Yes, knee replacement surgery," the doctor replied, joining Leader by the bed. Medic appeared across from them, tenderly rubbing her fingers over the supervillain's hand.

"Fifteen hours on the table," Leader continued to speak, observing Supervillain with contempt in her gaze. "Why?"

"We had to replace the entire knee cap with a newly engineered material made from cells of donors and a type of substance formed from titanium to enhance strength and durability. Then we had to connect the nerves and ligaments to the knee so he can control it like normal."

"Also known as a high-tech prosthetic? Why, may I ask, did my project have to get one?"

"Broken knee..."

"Shattered, Doctor," gray eyes darted around to meet the doctor's humble brown ones. "Not broken, but completely shattered. It needs to be fully operational by the end of the month."

"Ma'am, the recovery is going to be rough-" the doctor tried to protest.

"We have serums for that," Leader groaned, throwing her head into the air.

"It is not safe to drug him with much. His cells and blood need to adapt."

"I don't care. I put a lot of time and effort and money into this project. The enemy is going to launch an attack soon, our spies have gathered enough data to anticipate it by the end of the month. You have been soft Doctor, in his training."

"It's been working," the doctor reasoned.

"It's submission, not training. Ever hear of conditioning?"

"I have done some research into it and I believe that we need to take a more-"

"Yes you are right," Leader smiled. "I don't want a bodyguard. I want a weapon with one, single purpose. Eliminate Hero."

"I don't get that," Medic spoke up, her voice soft, yet filled with courage. "Why get rid of Hero when she is not the enemy?"

Leader chuckled, eyes thinkling. "What an ignorant little girl, so cute though. Did you do your make-up today? Hmm." The baby talk rapidly switched to a more serious tone, "She is a threat, even bigger than this newfound enemy. The moment she joins sides, which we know she will, the odds will be... let's say any attempt to stop them will be suicide."

"We contained her once before..."

"She will be mad, you'll see," Leader acquired a distant look in her dreary gray eyes. "Start weaponizing it. Immediately."

《~~》

Run.

Duck.

Jump.

"I love you."

"Love you more."

Punch.

Supervillain was panting for breath by the time he collapsed on the ground, exhausted to the highest extent. Sweat beaded around his hairline- recently trimmed in a convenient, yet flashy style, with a lightning bolt shaved into the side.

"I love you."

"Love you more."

Supervillain groaned, rubbing shaking hands over his face. Turn it off turn it off turn if off...

Everyday started with a morning workout in the gym. The gym had a track running around the whole thing with obstacles for him to duck under and jump over. The center only had a punching bag and a benchpress, but equally sweaty and daunting.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker rang, signaling that Supervillain could leave.

Once, of course, training was done.

Workouts weren't training, they were extra credit designed to get him further, to get him a higher GPA.

The doctor entered the room, so Supervillain stood up- respect, expected and therefore delivered.

"How many laps?"

"Twenty-five, sir."

The doctor took note of that on his clipboard, frowning before asking his speed.

"5 miles per hour, sir."

This time, the doctor smiled. "Good," he praised, then looked at the benchpress.

"Three hundred pounds," the doctor tapped the dumbbell with his pen, still grinning widely. "Nice work, but yesterday you did three-fiftey."

Supervillain whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. He failed he failed he failed he failed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, proceeding to walk towards the nearby intern to receive the needed correction.

The intern raised her hands, holding a contraption of metal and leather, and slipped it into Supervillain's mouth. He whimpered upon feeling the cold metal slid onto his tongue. A leather strap held it in place, tightly buckled in the back of his head. From that extended more leather that went over his nose. A chain was linked through the nasal strap, more cold metal on warm skin.

Abruptly, he was pulled forward. The metal pinched that nerve- the one that always ached from the commonly given treatment.

The intern pulled him into yet another white room.

Yet this one contained the most dreaded torture implement.

#supervillain whumpee #heros and villains #writing #surgery #drugged whumpee #drugged villain #captivity whump

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ichigo-daifuku · 4 years ago

Text

Alone Together

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Pairing: Hawks/Todoroki Fuyumi Genre: Time Travel, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Suggestive Themes

Synopsis: A Quirk accident prompts Fuyumi to travel back in time in various intervals, where she does her best to keep a low profile so as not to alter the future timeline.

Except Keigo catches feelings for her a year earlier than scheduled.

1 | ☆ Chapter One: A Fine Mess Word Count: 5.2k

恋の予感 | こいのよかん | koi no yokan

premonition of love; the sense one can have upon first meeting another person that the two of them will inevitably fall in love.

At five in the morning, Hawks stirred in his sleep and shivered.

The air was frigid. He concluded the heater must have ceased functioning sometime in the middle of the night. If it didn’t, how else could he explain how frosty the temperature in his room was? He took a deep breath and exhaled through his mouth, rubbing a palm over his abdomen. It felt as if he was sleeping beside a block of ice. Groggily, he huddled further under his blanket and tried to fall back into slumber.

Five more minutes, he thought, and then, this early bird will catch the worm… no, the villains.

A shift on his bed followed by a yawn drew his attention. He froze. Eyes shut but conscious and alert, he spread out a number of his feathers and confirmed it: an intruder was on his bed.

Hawks opened his eyes and found a sight that made them go as wide as saucers. A scantily clad woman was curled up next to him, comfortably sleeping as if she was on her own bed. She mumbled something incoherently and embraced his torso, her hold loose but enough for him to feel the outline and curves of her body. A puff of breath from her parted lips tickled his bare chest. Her skin was as cold as ice, and for a second, he wondered if she was feeling unwell—until he came to his senses. He recounted the events of the previous night in search of any factor that could’ve led to this situation.

Hawks had gone through the daily grind of flying around and catching villains. It had been a busier day than usual. Exhausted after his final patrol, he opted to order take-out at a fast-food restaurant on his way home instead of dining in. He ate his dinner, freshened up, put a random pair of sweatpants on, and went to sleep. He failed to recall encountering her last night, and he was certain she wasn’t here when he plopped down on his bed.

Hawks had never met this woman before.

However, from what he was seeing, he slept beside this woman. He didn’t sleep with her, right? There was no way such a thing would slip his mind.

Was he going insane? Was he having his annual spring rut? Was he so sexually frustrated that he was having a realistic hallucination of a very attractive woman sleeping next to him?

“Good morning,” said a feminine voice, still husky from the early hour, near his ear.

Despite the silent questions he raised, the softness of the lips pressing on his cheek was real.

Very much so.

Languidly, the woman sat up, stretched her arms above her head, and let out a contented hum. She stepped out of the bed and left the room while combing her fingers through her snow-white hair, unperturbed.

Hawks, who was still dubious of the situation, left the bed and slipped on the first t-shirt he could lay his feathers on. He went after the woman and found her in the kitchen, browsing through the contents of the refrigerator with a frown.

She cocked her head to the side and scrunched her eyebrows. “Didn’t we go grocery shopping yesterday? Why is everything gone? Don’t tell me you got hungry in the middle of the night and ate it all.”

The two of them went grocery shopping? Yesterday?

Without waiting for his response, the woman grabbed two eggs from the shelf and closed the refrigerator. She set them aside and bent down to get a frying pan from the cabinet.

Hawks wondered how she knew where he kept his cookware, but before he could dwell on the thought, he found out it wasn’t all that she was cognizant of.

The woman knew how to operate the rice cooker and coffee maker easily and prepared breakfast with such familiarity that if he didn’t know better, he’d say it was her kitchen and not his.

All the while, he stood at the entrance, wary and ready to defend himself when she decided to strike—except she did nothing of the sort.

“By the way, have you seen my eyeglasses?” she asked, setting the plate of fried eggs on the table. “It wasn’t on the nightstand. I forgot where I put them.”

“Who are you?” Hawks finally uttered the question he was dying to find the answer to. He took a tentative step forward as a predator would when it stalked its prey. “How did you get in my place?”

She glanced at him but paid his threatening action no mind, filling two mugs with coffee. “Huh?”

“It’s a serious question, Miss,” he stated, his expression grave and stern. “Who are you?”

Silver eyes met his golden ones. For some inexplicable reason, he was taken aback, but before he could mull over the peculiar impression he sensed, the question that left her lips had alarm bells ringing in his head.

“What are you talking about, Keigo?”

Keigo.

She called him Keigo.

He launched one of his longer feathers to his palm and aligned it toward her neck as one would with a sword. The tip of the feather brushed a strand of her hair, from which he spotted distinctive crimson streaks from. It was a unique feature that would help confirm her identity if she refused to speak. “Are you a spy? Who sent you?”

Panicked, she shook her head and waved her hands in front of her in denial. “I’m not a spy! No one sent me!”

“How did you know that name?”

“Which name?”

“Stop pretending you don’t know what’s going on,” he snapped, glaring at her. “My real name. How did you know it?”

“You told me.”

His birth name was classified information. From the day he was instructed to live as Hawks, he had buried his past and told no one his real name. Nobody—save for his estranged parents, the Hero Public Safety Commission, and himself—should have been aware of it. Not even his sidekicks, nor his fans, and definitely not the woman standing in front of him. “You’re lying.”

“Keigo, are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?” The menacing stance he had did nothing to deter her. She stepped forward and touched his head in search of any injuries. When she found none, she retreated and put her hands behind her back. “If I remember correctly, we’ve been on a first-name basis since we met. Well, kind of.”

Why would he reveal his real name to someone he just met? He would never do that.

Was this woman a delusional fangirl of his? He had encountered a few cases of those, but none of them had gone as far as this woman. She wasn’t from around here, he noticed, as she wasn’t speaking in Hakata-ben. Regardless, this was a penthouse of an exclusive condominium in Kyushu. How was she able to get past the security?

“We’ve never met. I don’t know who you are,” he stated without room for argument. “Now, tell me how you got in, and I’ll turn you in to the police myself.”

She stared at his face quietly, deep in thought. After a long pause, an epiphany struck her, and she spoke in a hesitant tone, expecting the worst, “Sorry, but… could you, perhaps, tell me what year it is?”

“That’s an odd question, Miss. What year do you think it is?”

The response she gave him left him disconcerted. With an uncertain voice, she told him today's month and day correctly, but she added three years to the current year.

When he revealed she was wrong, she backed away and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” she cried out with an apologetic bow, on the verge of bursting into tears. “We haven’t met yet, haven’t we? This must be so strange to you.”

“We’ve never met.”

“Yeah, not yet.” She paced back and forth and turned to him. “Do you mind if I look around for a bit? I just want to confirm it.”

He didn’t rule out the possibility she was unhinged, but he wanted to know what her deal was before handing her over to the authorities. Humoring her, he let go and returned his large feather to his wings, relenting. “Fine.”

In case she had any funny business up her sleeve, he followed her. A few of his feathers hovered around her as a safety precaution, too. Yet as he observed her, he had to ask himself: how come she was able to roam around his place like she owned it?

Similar to the way she acted in the kitchen, she barged inside his walk-in closet effortlessly. Stumbling upon rows and rows of men’s clothing, she mumbled, “My clothes…”

She peeked inside the bathroom and found a lone toothbrush on the sink and men’s products everywhere. “My toiletries…”

In front of an empty space in the living room, she stared and murmured, “My books…”

“None of my belongings are here.” She shook her head with a sigh, momentarily forgetting she had company as she glanced at the calendar on the wall. “I really am in the past.”

Keigo placed a hand on her shoulder, rousing her from her reverie. “Care to explain?”

The sound of her stomach grumbling interrupted her before she could speak. She covered her midriff in embarrassment, the skimpy nightgown she had on drawing his attention again. “Sorry.”

Keigo sighed. From a logical point of view, the current evidence indicated this woman as a threat. However, his feathers tingled in a different way than they would when they sensed danger was in the midst. He had gathered from her whispers that she believed she was from the future. Something strange was going on, and he would get to the bottom of it.

With a few small feathers, he grabbed a hoodie from his closet and offered it to her. “You can wear this.”

“Oh, thank you.” She slipped the hoodie on and awkwardly continued, “It’s cold, isn’t it? Not that I’m bothered or anything, though. I actually don’t mind the cold much, don’t worry! Haha…”

That’s not it, he thought but didn’t bother saying aloud. She already cooked breakfast, might as well let her eat it.

“You can enlighten me of the situation while you eat,” Keigo decided, leading her to the dining area. He pulled a chair out and instructed, “Sit down.”

She followed him wordlessly and watched as he set the table, brought the cooked rice, and sat in front of her. Upon noticing he wasn’t making any move to grab a serving, she spoke, “Aren’t you going to eat? I didn’t put anything weird in there, I promise.”

Keigo had witnessed her prepare them earlier. He didn’t see or smell anything weird in the food either.

She sensed his reluctance and lifted the chopsticks between her fingers. As proof of her innocence, she took a bite of the fried egg and swallowed. “See? It’s fine.”

Keigo acquiesced, putting a portion of rice and egg in his bowl.

“Thank you for the food,” they said in unison.

He took a much-needed sip of coffee and began with his inquiry, “Think you can tell me what’s up now, Miss?”

“Yesterday afternoon, a young girl’s Quirk went out of control and hit me. Nothing happened, but my companion and I went to the hospital to be sure. The doctors said it was a mutation type of Quirk, but they couldn’t confirm anything since the girl’s exact power was unknown.”

That companion was supposedly him. “And then?”

“Since nothing was wrong with me, they sent us home. We went to this penthouse, ate dinner, and slept. But when I woke up, I’m… here. In the past,” she told him. “One of the doctors did advise us to wait for twenty-four hours, so maybe, that’s my time limit.”

“You’re sure this is the past? Not an alternate universe?”

“I think so.”

“How are you going to come back to your own time?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? Why should I believe you?”

“I…” Contemplative, she paused before offering a suggestion. “I’d like to wait for twenty-four hours, at least.”

“And if nothing happens?”

“I’ll turn myself in to the authorities if you’ll insist, but I hope you’ll at least let me call someone for help.”

“Let me guess. A colleague? Perhaps, a fellow villain?”

“No, I’m not a villain. My—” she broke off mid-sentence again, carefully choosing her words, “—a family member would know what to do, I think.”

“How suspicious.”

“Look, I know twenty-four hours is a lot to ask, especially from the Number T...hree Hero, but I’m also confused right now. If I’m being honest, I’d like to go back to where I came from right at this moment,” she confessed. “I hope you can bear with me for a while. It will really help me. Please.”

Keigo felt the accusation he was about to utter stuck in his throat. Sincerity and anxiety radiated from her words. His instincts told him it was an honest appeal for his assistance. While he was still unsure, he was a Hero, and the woman in front of him, a suspected villain or not, was asking him for help. He couldn’t ignore it.

He grabbed his phone with a stray feather and dialed his secretary’s number. “Hello, good morning. It’s Hawks. I won’t be coming in today. It’s an emergency situation, and I’ll be on surveillance duty.”

“Roger, Sir. I’ll let your sidekicks know.”

“By the way, don’t ask why, but can you send a set of women’s clothes to my place? Toiletries, as well. Thanks! Bye-bye!”

“Thank you,” the woman told him as he ended the call. This time, she was unable to hold back her tears, and she wiped them immediately with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Thank you so much. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience, Keigo—I mean, Hawks!”

Silence reigned during the rest of the breakfast. It wasn’t the awkward nor the comfortable type. She was engrossed in her thoughts while he was on high alert. After they finished eating, she volunteered to do the dishes, and he allowed her to, knowing she needed a moment alone to collect herself. He stayed at a considerable distance in the living room instead, aware she finished the task without any issues.

Keigo looked up from the YAP! News article on his phone and observed as the woman plopped down on the other side of the sofa and grabbed the remote control on the coffee table.

As if she felt his sharp gaze on her, she turned her face to his direction, and realization dawned on her.

“Whoops, sorry! I just…” she blurted out, embarrassed at the faux pas she committed. “Nevermind. Do you mind if I watch TV?”

“It’s fine.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, redirecting her eyes to the television. She flipped the channels to find something appealing to watch and came upon an animated magical girl franchise. “Oh, PreCure!”

“I see,” he noted, caught off guard she chose that show over the morning news on one channel and a rerun of a documentary about the most recent Hero Billboard Chart JP on another. “You’re into these kinds of shows?”

“I happen to know a lot of kids. They love this show,” she replied, heat creeping up her cheeks. “Besides, there’s no such thing as being too old to watch anime.”

“Yeah.” An amused smile crept upon his lips. “You’re right about that, Miss.”

She would squint her eyes from time to time throughout the episode. In addition, since she had been looking for her eyeglasses earlier, he deduced she had poor eyesight. Keigo thought she might get a headache later on if she continued watching television like that. That would be bad, wouldn’t it?

It turned out, he had no need to fret about such a thing from happening. A couple of hours later, she ended up dozing off. He stood, turned the television’s volume down, and fixed her position in a way she could lay down and sleep properly.

How could she let her guard down like that? he asked himself, covering her with a blanket. She seems fatigued, though.

Unable to figure her out, he took a seat on the solo sofa and let her be, still on surveillance duty.

While she didn’t mention anything about being unwell, she was exhausted—that much was obvious. It was only at lunchtime when she awoke from her nap, the sound of the doorbell serving as her alarm clock. Behind the door, the pizza delivery man stood with Keigo’s order in his hands. Keigo settled the payment and brought the box to the living room. He set the box on the table and untied the string on top of it.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you feeling sick or anything?”

“No, just tired.” She shut her eyes and massaged her fingers over her temple. “It must be a side effect of the girl’s Quirk. I’m not usually like this.”

He didn’t know this woman, but he knew how being sick without medicine felt: miserable. “Tell me if you need anything. I’ll get it.”

Her eyes fluttered open drowsily. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you want to freshen up after you eat?” He handed her a sealed paper bag through a feather on its handle. “The clothing and toiletries I asked for earlier arrived while you were sleeping.”

“I will.” She waited for him to release the paper bag with her palms wide open. When he did, she caught it and put it on her lap. “Thanks.”

Keigo decided to take his turn in using the bathroom after she did.

As soon as he stepped inside and shut the door, he was surrounded by her presence. Droplets of water trickled from the tiled walls to the floor. The delicate scent of floral shampoo and the fragrance of milk and honey body wash clung in the air; soft and sweet. No part of his house had smelled like that before. Another crack made its way through his composure. He was unused to having people over at his place. No, scratch that, he never had people over. Given who he was, he had a lot to protect, and to accomplish that, he must keep his secrets. It was a dangerous line she crossed easily. He found the experience daunting.

As quickly as he could, he finished showering, got dressed, and returned to the living room, where he was able to sense her presence.

She sat in the same area she occupied earlier, flipping through a random magazine she found on the coffee table. The cream-colored turtleneck shirt and acid wash jeans she was wearing clung to her body in all the right places. Upon seeing him, she looked up from the pages and shut the magazine. “Hawks?”

“Y-Yes?” He cleared his throat. “What is it?”

“You’re twenty-two years old at the moment, right?”

“Yeah.”

She chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m still older than you.”

“Is that so?” he asked, unsure of how to respond to her statement. “Are you also older than me where you came from?”

“That’s right.” She returned the magazine to the table and stood. “By the way, do you mind if I wash my clothes?”

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

She gave him a smile and left.

Dumbfounded by their bizarre exchange, Keigo stared at her retreating form and frowned.

She didn’t even ask him where the washing machine was.

The woman stood by the glass walls, the pad of her fingertips touching the surface as she stared at the carmine and amber hues of the setting sun.

Keigo made his way next to her and observed the view closely. The scenery was breathtaking from this altitude. He couldn’t blame her for being enamored by it. It was one of the reasons he picked this penthouse. The sky was fascinating, no matter the weather or the time of the day it was.

“Are you curious?” she asked out of the blue, her gaze still on the horizon.

“About what?”

“The future.”

“Well, I don’t really know if you’re from the future or not,” he admitted, an absurd idea popping inside his mind. “How about you tell me something that will happen a week or so from now?”

“Like a major event?”

“Something like that,” he said, although he speculated a definite answer from her would be unlikely. “Anything will do.”

“Okay, that would be an effective way to check.” The woman nodded. “If what I’m about to tell you happens, will you believe me, then?”

“It depends.” He turned to look at her. Her casual agreement caught him by mild surprise, his curiosity multiplying as the seconds ticked by. “But let’s say you do disappear and come back to wherever you came from after twenty-four hours. At that point, it wouldn’t matter, wouldn’t it?”

“It would. At least, to me, it would,” she stated, meeting his gaze. “I’ve got nothing to lose by telling you, but you have to promise not to meddle. If this is the past, the future timeline shouldn’t be altered.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed with a lighthearted laugh. “Sounds like a plot of a movie.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” She gave him a smile and fiddled with her fingers. The shift in the mood was palpable as she began, “A few days after the term at U.A. High School begins, a class will be attacked by a group of villains.”

“U.A.’s security system is top-notch, though,” he pointed out, not bothering to conceal his doubt. “I don’t see anything like that happening.”

“Everyone thought so, too.” Amused, she added, “Knowing you, by now, you’re already aware that All Might is going to be a teacher at U.A., aren’t you?”

“How did you—”

“I just do, okay?” She clasped her hands behind her back and leaned in. “Remember, you promised not to meddle.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “But if it does happen, who knows? You might have known of it because you’re a member of that ‘group of villains’ yourself.”

“I’m not! I’m not a member of that group of villains.” A chuckle fell past her lips, one tinged with amusement and melancholy. “That’s… not me.”

She returned her gaze to the scenery of Kyushu, and it gave Keigo a good view of her shoulder-length hair. The crimson streaks in it stood out against its dominant white color. When he thought about it, he couldn’t help but compare it to the color of his feathers. They were so alike that a smaller feather of his would blend in with them perfectly. He chided himself for thinking that way.

And so, instead, Keigo debated whether the crimson streaks in her hair were natural or otherwise.

The late-night news was on in the background as the two of them partook in their share of fast-food chicken meals. It was from the same restaurant Keigo visited last night except, this time, he ordered them online and waited for them to arrive after twenty minutes.

“I wish you didn’t have to have meals delivered all the time,” the woman lamented and took a sip of soda. “Eat healthier when you can, okay?”

“Aww, are you concerned about me?” he asked half-jokingly, setting the empty cardboard packaging aside.

“Of course.”

Keigo was quiet at that, once again blindsided by her candidness. He had only met this woman today, yet she cared enough about him to trouble herself about his diet.

“Hawks,” she spoke, her voice gentle and hesitant, but of what, he didn’t know. “Are you doing okay right now?”

“Just peachy,” he answered promptly like he always did, pushing those strange thoughts aside. “Why would you ask me that?”

A long pause passed before she opened her mouth to respond. “You told me there were times you thought of the HPSC as a birdcage—sometimes, a shackle. Even if I know better, meeting you in this time of your life worries me.”

By then, the sound coming from the television was nothing but white noise. Everything she uttered was the truth. Those were sentiments he had hidden deep inside him and swore to keep to himself. This woman knew about them, though—she knew him well. He found no rational explanation for the way she was aware of specific matters he dared not to speak about. How else would she know them if he didn’t tell her? Maybe, not now, but in the future.

At that point, he started to truly believe her. One thing, however, kept creeping inside his mind once he came to terms with it. He stared at her intently, trying to unravel the mystery that came in the form of this woman. “Who are you in my life?”

“Uh, I am…” She averted her gaze, a blush forming on her cheeks. “That would be a spoiler, wouldn’t it?”

“I want to know.” Keigo was a sharp man. He already had an inkling of who she would be for him in the future, but he wanted the confirmation to come from her lips. “Tell me.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of a bell, similar to that of a cat’s, rang three times, diverting their attention.

The next thing he knew, the woman in front of him had vanished into thin air.

Keigo searched the entire penthouse but found her nowhere. He considered the possibility she had been a figment of his imagination, but he ultimately believed she wasn’t.

The cardboard container of her meal remained on the coffee table, in front of the seat she took earlier. The wooden chopsticks laid on top of a folded sheet of tissue paper, their tips dampened and darkened by the savory sauce of the chicken she ate and said was delicious. Inside his bathroom, the toiletries she used were arranged neatly on the corner of the sink.

The white cotton nightdress, as well as the hoodie she borrowed, hung on the metal clothing rack in the washing area, fresh with the detergent he liked best. A matching pair of underwear with a dainty ribbon—lingerie, to be specific—dangled beside them, mocking him for having thoughts he shouldn’t have had. He laughed them off as best as he could but didn’t know what to do with them. In the end, he decided to put them inside the unused drawer in his walk-in closet.

She might have disappeared, but she didn’t do it without a trace.

He checked his wristwatch and saw it was past midnight. If her assumptions and calculations were correct, it meant she had arrived on his bed last night around this time. He wondered if she made it to the future safely.

He hoped so.

Hawks kept his feathers vigilant for any clues regarding the supposed surprise attack at U.A. High School. The mysterious woman would appear in his mind frequently because of the information she had given him concerning the near future. It piqued his interest because he found nothing about it. He couldn’t meddle at all even if he knew, which he could imagine, for her, was a good thing.

To his credit, he got the wind of the news before the press did. Class 1-A was attacked by a group called the League of Villains during an on-campus activity in the Unforeseen Simulation Joint training facility. People dubbed it as the U.S.J. Incident. The League of Villains aimed to put an end to All Might but failed in the end. Their leader, however, had gotten away. Hawks couldn’t help but consider what kind of trouble they would stir up in the future. He had to investigate further.

On the flip side, it further proved that the woman he encountered in his home was telling the truth. She was from the future. He opened the door to his penthouse and made his way to his bedroom, remembering her again. In retrospect, they had gotten themselves into quite a mess during the day she appeared.

Not that he’d see her anytime soon, or so he thought.

It was a faint sound, but nevertheless, a familiar one. An invisible bell rang three times, and a feminine voice spoke beside him, causing him to stop in his tracks in wonder.

“Do you believe me now?” the woman asked, her head tilting to the side. Her doe eyes, framed with eyeglasses this time, twinkled with hopefulness.

“You’re here,” he blurted out, “again.”

“Yeah.” She leaned backward and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I have twenty-three hours this time.”

“One hour less than last time,” he pointed out. “But how did you know?”

“We had time to visit the doctor again. The young girl has a Quirk that sends people back in time. Time Quirks are rare, so existing studies about them are insufficient to undo the whole thing. I can’t elaborate too much on the details, but there’s nothing I can do but go through the whole time travel duration. After this, there will be twenty-two more instances when I will appear somewhere near you at a random moment, each time lessened by an hour.”

“For how long?”

“A year, more or less.”

“But out of all the places you could appear in, why does it happen where I am?” he asked, meticulously processing the information she had given him. “Not that I’m complaining or anything. I’m just curious.”

“I…” she paused, contemplating whether or not to tell him, “because you were the one closest to me when I was struck by the girl’s Quirk.”

“How close?”

“We were standing next to each other.”

“And?”

“We were… holding each other’s hand.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “So, we really do have that kind of relationship, huh?”

She rolled her eyes and averted her gaze, folding her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not going to answer that.”

Despite her dismissal, the pink tinge of her cheeks betrayed her composure. It was all the answer he needed to his question.

They were together. Three years in the future, the two of them were in a relationship. How did such a thing happen?

Time would tell. For now, a cordial smile tugged at his lips, knowing exactly where to begin. “What’s your name?”

“If I tell you,” she said hesitantly, “will you promise not to look for me?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to change the present—I mean, my present—where I’m from. The future, if you will, in your case.”

“Okay, then.” Keigo nodded. It was a reasonable condition, after all. “I promise.”

“Great.” She grinned, relieved he gave her his word. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Fuyumi.”

Notes: The three-year difference in their timelines and the sound of a bell ringing was inspired by Kimi no Na wa, one of my favorite movies.

I was actually working on a fic for another ship, but I thought of Huwumi again and ended up writing this instead.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading! ❄️

Alone Together

BNHA Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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likeawildthing · 5 years ago

Text

Let’s talk about the legality of AO3 a non-profit organization and what that means for your donation dollars, shall we? I have seen...way too many posts on my dash knocking AO3 and I thought I’d just write something up instead of adding to yet another misinformed post. Here we go.

I’m not a CFO, but I am a business graduate, work at a for-profit organization with a similar governance structure as AO3, and I spend two months of each year assessing the fiscal health of non-profit organizations. In that volunteer work I look at: how efficiently volunteer dollars are being spent, whether the agency is meeting their targets in terms of people served, the overall organizational heath, and efficacy of services rendered.

All boring, but essentially it’s making sure donations go to the healthiest organization with the fittest program.

AO3 is a 501(c) corp. “A 501c3 is considered a charity, and the IRS allows donors to take a tax deduction for contributions of goods, cash and other assets.” This type of organization “can make a profit from its operations, but if the entity consistently makes a significant annual profit, the IRS might remove its tax-exempt status. For this reason, tax-exempt organizations try to operate at or near a break-even basis.” (x)

This is just, the basic legal requirement. They make too much money, they lose non-profit status. As a non-profit could pay staff. In fact, AO3 makes a distinction between volunteers and staff. Does this mean anyone at AO3 is profiting? From the FAQ:

"The OTW is an all-volunteer organization, so everyone serving is doing so on voluntary basis. At the same time, our roles have differing levels of responsibility and commitment, which we distinguish by using the terms volunteer and staff.Generally, a volunteer serves as part of a pool (e.g. tag wranglers, coders, testers, translators) or a workgroup with specific and focused tasks to complete. Pool volunteers typically are not required to attend meetings; workgroup volunteers may be expected to do so. Volunteers do not hold a vote within their respective committee unless they also serve as committee staff.Staff serve on an OTW committee, are expected to attend meetings, and actively participate in committee business and projects. The time required of staff is often higher than for volunteers. Also, after nine months of service as staff, an individual is eligible to run for a seat on the Board of Directors.”

and

“No, no one in the Organization for Transformative Works receives monetary compensation for their work.”

These aren’t just claims AO3 can make arbitrarily. Non-profits are sometimes subjected to the roughest financial scrutiny during a financial audit. Lying about this and getting caught would result in hefty fines or even the loss of the non-profit status, which would kill the site. Immediately. I checked, and AO3 does an independent financial audit every year, as well as files financial statements. They aren’t lying or hiding money.

Additionally, if you know anything about corporation governance structure, AO3 is run by board and committee. No one person can make financial decisions, and no one person can secretly siphon off donations.

“The Board treasurer is specifically responsible for the creation and implementation of the OTW’s budget, but the Board must vote to approve the budget, as well as any unplanned expenditures. For smaller transactions, the Board will delegate responsibility to OTW’s committees to determine what goods and services may be necessary.”

Each board member, legally, has a duty of care: "directors and officers of a corporation in making all decisions in their capacities as corporate fiduciaries, must act in the same manner as a reasonably prudent person in their position would.” What does this mean for non-profits? Board members must

1. Have a keen interest in the fiscal affairs of the nonprofit, including its overall, current financial position, the reliability of the reports the board receives, and the effectiveness of the nonprofit’s management of incoming and outgoing funds.

2. Require regular, timely and complete financial reports from internal finance staff or contract staff and expect the board to hold staff accountable for meeting the standards of timely reporting (for example, providing financial statements no later than three weeks after the close of the prior accounting period).

3. Ask critical questions about the financial reports the board receives, including budgets, periodic financial statements, the annual Form 990 and annual, sometimes audited, financial statements.

If you care to look, AO3 does...all of this. Above and beyond, actually. I looked. Here are their 990s, board meeting minutes, independent audits, financial statements, and prior strategic planning benchmarks.

Regarding fiscal responsibility, non-profits (healthy ones anyway) should use financial ratios to determine the health and long-term viability of the organization. Here’s a simplified version. What both of these articles (or any article worth its salt) will confirm is that it’s important to keep a reserve for future viability. AO3 calls this its “rainy day fun” or “financial reserves.”

Yes, AO3 is creating a conservative investment portfolio. Yes, they have long-term plans which include server upgrades. This isn’t predatory or misleading, this is literally business 101. The healthiest non-profit organizations don’t try to make a profit, but they are smart with the money they earn:

Step 1. Earn income (1-2 fund drives a year, completely voluntarily, stop if funds are received early. completely on par with an organization this size. Think about your NPR radio station.)

Step 2. Have a budget with enough capital for operating expenses (enough cash flow to pay bills as they come up) and a small portion for regular savings.

Step 3. Invest intelligently to keep a healthy margin in reserve for long-term strategic planning. Have a strategic plan which includes capital expenditures (investing back into the organization).

This right here? Maintaining a healthy reserve for capital expenditures? Creating a marginal income without earning too much to risk losing 501c3 status? Running on volunteers to avoid ethical concerns? That’s how you operate an organization that takes donor funds seriously, that is a good steward of its resources, and which will be here in 3, 5, 10 years.

You don’t have to donate. I’m not actually advocating either way. Just putting in my experience. There are amazing ways to support your favorite fic authors that don’t involve donating to AO3. However, if you do choose to, rest assured that it appears that AO3 is doing everything from a healthy organization perspective and that your donor dollars are treated with respect.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#ao3 #otw

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