#group signup

[runefactorynonsense]

The first of a couple Secret Santa blogs I follow just opened up for signups 👀

I WANT TO DO MORE THIS YEAR.

[inclusiveinsight]

ONLINE/IN-PERSON FOCUS GROUP STUDY HAMILTON

sign up and start earning https://inclusiveinsight.com

[adore-laur]

hmmm maybe dadrry where he pretends to make her jealous but it doesn’t work bc they’re so secure in the relationship they just smirk and tease them, or that yn gets mama bear when she sees other moms hit on harry at school or daycare

——

In a couple of weeks, the preschool your eldest daughter attended was going on a field trip to a petting zoo in Montebello, California. Chaperone sign-up sheets were recently emailed to every parent, and you were debating with Harry about who should be the one to tag along. It wasn't a requirement to be a chaperone, but your worrisome maternal instincts sure made it one.

Harry was lying on the couch, his socked feet dangling over the armrest. You sat normally, your legs bent over his straightened knees, as you stared into space. The conversation kept hitting dead ends, but you were insistent on coming up with a solution as soon as possible. You had enough on your plate to deal with in the weeks ahead.

"Only one of us can chaperone the field trip," you repeated for probably the fourth time that night.

"I'm more than willing to take off work for it," Harry replied, his fingers casually laced over his chest. His eyes were closed since it was nearing ten p.m. and you hadn't been able to make up your mind about which parent should volunteer their time and energy toward the field trip. You had cornered Harry when he went to shut the living room lights off and forced him to sit down before he retreated to bed. It wasn't that you didn't trust him to be a chaperone—he'd definitely handle the controlled chaos that came with supervising a group of kids in an environment full of animals to gawk at. You just considered yourself a more watchful person, but really, it was an excuse to witness your daughter's interactions with her classmates and make sure she was adjusting well to being in school.

"I'm more than willing to as well. So..." You tapped your fingers against the couch cushion. "We need to make a decision right now. Signups are first come, first served."

Harry hummed in acknowledgment. "I can go."

You slowly nodded and said, "Okay. Well, so can I. You know, if you're not able to take off work."

He snorted a laugh and shifted his head, getting more comfortable. He was going to get a crick in his neck if this conversation didn't hurry along.

"What?" you asked, unsure why your reasonability was so amusing to him.

"You're funny."

You tilted your head back against the couch and sighed toward the ceiling. "Harry, I'm trying to get us ahead of the game. Otherwise, neither of us will be able to chaperone, and then our child will be in the care of a random parent."

Your trust in the preschool was substantial, yet a part of you was still cautious about the parents. You hadn't had the chance to build relationships with them since you started working part-time again. Your little girl was a wanderer, and if something caught her attention, she was off and admiring it without notice. Other parents didn't know that about her. What if they didn't pay close enough attention and accidentally let her get lost? The mere thought was why you were determined to claim an open spot as a chaperone.

"You're not making this particularly easy, honey," Harry said lightheartedly, tiredness rasping his voice. "I am actively telling you that I would love to be a chaperone instead of a chef for a day. Getting to pet adorable animals is also a plus."

"Maybe we can write both of our names down," you replied, deep in thought. Half of what Harry had said ricocheted off your brain.

"I don't think that's allowed." He yawned, stretching his arms. "Just put my name down. If work ends up being a problem, I'm sure they wouldn't mind you taking my place."

You contemplated his decision, then asked, "Did you read the chaperone responsibilities list?"

He frowned. "No, but there's time. The email was only sent this morning."

"You have to read it," you said firmly. He needed to be as prepared as possible. This was the first field trip of many, and rules have most likely changed since you were a kid.

In a lull of silence, Harry's hand caressed your ankle. "What are you so anxious about? Talk to me."

You wanted to say everything, but not even someone as wise as Harry could procure a remedy for that. "Nothing," you mumbled. "Just trying to have a solid plan in place."

"Are you worried the moms will be all over me? Pulling me aside and asking me"—Harry paused for dramatic effect—"burning questions?"

You looked over at him, taking in his sly little smirk. He was being like this on purpose. Not to make you jealous, since you were years past that phase—instead, it was a way to distract you from ruminating over minuscule matters.

"I’m not worried at all," you said confidently, flashing him a grin. "Because you know what to do if that happens, right?"

Harry wordlessly lifted his left hand, showing off his gold wedding band snugly fit on his long ring finger. Exactly, you thought to yourself.

"And what if they persist?" he asked, enjoyment clear on his face. You knew he loved this type of banter.

"You show them the picture of me that you keep in your wallet." You leaned toward him. "Then your last resort is calling me and putting whichever mom is flirting with you on the phone."

His teeth bit into his soft bottom lip. "Yes, ma'am."

You crooked your pointer finger, beckoning Harry closer. He sat up with a groan, his face now mere inches from yours. The hypothetical scenario caused misplaced jealousy to surge through your bloodstream, and you had to remind him of some things.

"You're my husband."

Harry traced the tip of his nose along your cheekbone and said, "Loud and proud, baby."

Your breaths became shallowed. "Father of our two children."

"And counting."

You pinched his waist, and he writhed with a heavenly laugh. "You're conventionally attractive, which piques a lot of people's interests. And while it used to bother me in the past, I know that your soul is tethered to mine."

His hands traveled an intimate path up your thighs. "It always has been," he said, his eyes sincere.

"So," you said with finality, your heart racing from his words, "I will let you chaperone the field trip. Because you always come back to me and our family, and I know work has been keeping you away from our girls."

"How do you turn the most mundane thing into a romantic declaration?"

"With you as my muse, it's pretty simple."

Harry moved closer and brushed his lips against yours. "If you keep melting my heart, I'm going to lay you down on this couch and make love to you until the sun rises."

"Risky," you whispered, smiling against his mouth. The kids were asleep down the hall. Any lovemaking would no doubt be interrupted by the baby monitor.

"Tell you what," he said, stealing a hot, deep kiss from you that left you briefly stunned. "This weekend, I'll have my parents take the girls for a day so you and I can love on each other without any distractions. I miss having you all to myself."

"I'm right here," you said, cupping his face. "And I'd appreciate it if you kissed me some more."

"I thought you needed to sign me up as a chaperone."

You kissed him three times in quick succession before saying, "Shut up and make out with me."

"Roger that," Harry murmured, towering over you until your back sank into the couch.

——

[fandomtrumpshate]

By the Numbers! 102 hours! (ish)

Last year our second 'by the numbers' update happened on day 5 of the signup window. We're currently at 102 hours - just past 4 full days and into day 5 since signups opened. Shall we compare?

We shall!

Last year on day 5 we had 385 creators offering 536 auctions in 104 listed fandoms and 114 write-ins.

This year …

602 creators 819 auctions 112 listed fandoms 180 write-ins

We have the sneaking suspicion that the next time we do a numbers roundup we'll have surpassed the 2023 totals and be a day or two away from beating 2024.

We. Are. Thrilled! (We are also slightly terrified!!)

Ahem.

A breakdown of the types of offers we have so far:

554 Written fanwork (fic, fan poetry, etc) 84 Podfic 112 Fan art 57 Fan labor (beta services, translation, Brit-picking, typesetting, etc) 6 Video 6 Other Digital Fanwork

Over in the supported orgs, the groups that could use more love include:

National Network to End Domestic Violence Environmental Integrity Project Congo Leadership Initiative Bellingcat Fight for the Future Education Fund

That's where things stand at 102(ish) hours. Where will we be on Day 6? ... on day 14??

eep. yay! Onward!

Signups are OPEN!

[sandersstudies]

I’m stressed because my afternoon class next semester is the ONLY group class that has limited spots. Usually with the other classes we can move kids or teachers around to accommodate for the amount, but this class I’m going to have to cut off, and the director and I have already agreed that the kids who have the most experience will be prioritized, not the kids who sign up first. (This class has the earliest signup cutoff of any class, so any kids who are not admitted will have time to consider and sign up for other courses).

I just feel bad considering rejecting any of them :’( I want to make it very clear that I’m not going to using favoritism or picking and choosing, and going solely off of their previous class history, but I know that kids can still feel slighted that way.

[theonottsbxtch]

COURAGE | OP81

an: i warn you ahead of time this faces the topic of substance abuse, if you or anyone you know needs help, please feel free to talk to me or here are links for who to talk to: united kingdom, united states, canada, europe. these are some of the links i've found, if you need help searching for one, my inbox is always open!

warnings: substance abuse, religous themes, mentions of death & hospitals.

wc: 4.6k

The church bells rang out over the small town of Willow Creek, their low hum rolling through the autumn air like a solemn hymn. Oscar stood at the edge of his front porch, adjusting the cuffs of his Sunday shirt as he waited for her. He always waited for her.

She emerged moments later from her house next door, pulling her shawl tighter against the chill. The hem of her modest dress caught the breeze, brushing against her knees as she approached. She didn’t say much, she never did on Sundays. Her gaze, solemn and steady, flicked toward the church steeple visible from the end of the street.

“Ready?” Oscar asked, though he already knew the answer.

She nodded, her braid catching the sunlight as they started down the gravel path.

The girl was his best friend, his constant, the one person in this quiet town who felt as real to him as the chipped paint on his window frame or the threadbare pews at St. Anne’s.

Their routine was always the same: church in the morning, quiet afternoons spent sitting on his porch or hers, talking about scripture or nothing at all. It was an existence that felt safe and good, built on a foundation as steady as the faith they shared.

But something had shifted in her lately. He couldn’t place it, not exactly. She still walked with him to church. She still bowed her head during the prayers, her lips moving silently along with the hymns. But her eyes were somewhere else, distant and restless, as though her thoughts had wandered too far and couldn’t find their way home.

“I heard Father O’Connell mention the youth retreat next month,” Oscar said, breaking the silence as they neared the church steps. “He said he’s hoping for a big turnout this year. Are you thinking of going?”

She hesitated. The pause was brief, but it was there, and Oscar caught it like a pebble in his shoe.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Then she offered him a faint smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll see.”

Oscar didn’t press her. He never did. But as they entered the church, he couldn’t help but notice the way her hand lingered at the edge of her shawl, clutching it like a tether.

It started with small things.

Oscar didn’t think much of it when she skipped their afternoon talks one Sunday. Her mum had said she wasn’t feeling well, and that made sense. People got sick; life happened. But then she missed the next Sunday, too. And the one after that.

She stopped coming to the Wednesday youth group meetings at church, which was even stranger. For as long as he could remember, she’d been one of the first to volunteer for scripture readings or help organise bake sales. Now, her name wasn’t even on the signup sheets.

Oscar wanted to ask her about it, but he couldn’t figure out how. It wasn’t like they had a friendship built on confrontation. They’d grown up side by side in the same pews, their lives as intertwined as the ivy creeping up the churchyard walls. But it was a quiet bond, one where words weren’t always necessary.

That’s what made the silence feel so loud.

One Friday afternoon, after work, Oscar saw her for the first time in weeks. She was sitting on the front steps of her house, legs crossed, the heel of her shoe tapping a restless rhythm against the wood.

“Hey,” he called as he approached, hands in his pockets. “Haven’t seen you around.”

She looked up, her expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”

Busy. The word felt wrong coming from her, like a puzzle piece jammed into the wrong spot.

“Your mum said you were sick,” he said, testing the waters.

Her eyes flickered, just for a moment. “Yeah. That too.”

He leaned against the porch railing, watching her closely. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t pin it down. Her braid was still neat, her dress still modest, but the way she sat—loose, almost careless—was unfamiliar.

“You coming to youth group next week?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

She shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Why not?”

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like she was seeing through him instead of at him.

“Just not my thing right now,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice he didn’t recognise.

Oscar frowned. “You’ve been going for years.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, standing abruptly. “People change.”

And just like that, she disappeared inside, leaving Oscar alone on the porch with the sound of her footsteps echoing in his ears.

Over the next few weeks, Oscar saw less and less of her. When he did see her, she wasn’t the same.

The first time he noticed the guy, it was at the diner on Main Street. She was sitting in a booth near the window, her back to him, but he recognised her laugh instantly. She wasn’t alone.

The guy was tall, older, with a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair. He leaned in close when he talked to her, his hand brushing her arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oscar stood outside the diner for a long time, watching them through the glass.

When she turned her head and laughed again, Oscar caught a glimpse of her face. There was something wild in her expression, something unrestrained and electric. It scared him.

He didn’t tell her he’d seen her. He wasn’t sure why.

But the next Sunday, when her mum stopped him on his way to church, the worry in her eyes told him she’d seen it too.

“Have you talked to her?” her mum asked, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “She’s… I don’t know what’s going on with her. She won’t talk to me.”

Oscar didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sure it’s just a phase,” he offered weakly.

Her mum smiled, but it was the kind of smile people gave at funerals.

“I hope so,” she said.

The next time Oscar saw her, it wasn’t at church or on her front porch. It was behind the convenience store on Elm Street, just after dusk.

He had been walking home, the kind of mindless stroll he often took when his thoughts got too loud. The streets were mostly empty, the only sounds the faint hum of a streetlamp and the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes.

He heard her before he saw her. Laughter—sharp, jagged, and nothing like the laugh he remembered. It came from the alley behind the store, followed by the low murmur of voices.

Oscar turned the corner, and there she was.

She leaned against the brick wall, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. The glow of the lighter in the guy’s hand caught her face just long enough for Oscar to see the hollow beneath her eyes, the strange way her smile curled at the edges, like she wasn’t entirely sure it belonged there.

The guy was the same one from the diner, older and out of place in this small town. He said something to her, and she threw her head back in laughter, her voice ringing out into the quiet night.

Oscar froze. She looked so different. Her braid was gone, her hair loose and tangled, framing a face that seemed sharper, thinner. Her clothes were casual but careless, like she’d grabbed the first things within reach. She didn’t look like the girl he’d grown up with—the girl who bowed her head in prayer and scolded him when he skipped scripture reading. She looked like someone else entirely.

The guy noticed Oscar first. He smirked, nudging her with his elbow. “Friend of yours?”

She turned her head, her smile fading when she saw him. For a moment, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe, or shame—but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharper than he expected.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his throat dry.

She rolled her eyes and took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold air. “It’s none of your business, Oscar.”

“It is my business,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re my friend.”

She laughed, but it was a brittle sound, lacking any real warmth. “Yeah, well, friends don’t follow each other around like lost puppies.”

Oscar felt the words like a slap, but he didn’t back down. “This isn’t you,” he said quietly. “What are you doing with him?”

The guy smirked again, clearly enjoying the tension. “Relax, man. She’s fine.”

“No one asked you,” Oscar snapped, his voice louder than he intended.

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two to it.” He handed her the lighter, brushing her fingers with his in a way that made Oscar’s stomach turn, and walked off down the alley.

She didn’t look at Oscar right away. Instead, she stared at the lighter in her hand, turning it over like it was a puzzle she couldn’t solve.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, her voice softer but still distant. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You’re not fine,” Oscar said, his frustration bubbling over. “You’ve stopped coming to church. You won’t talk to your mum. And now you’re…” He trailed off, gesturing helplessly toward the cigarette still in her hand.

She sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “I don’t need a lecture, okay? I get enough of that at home.”

“I’m not trying to lecture you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I just… I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

Her gaze flicked to his, and for a brief moment, he saw something raw in her eyes—pain, anger, maybe even fear. But then she blinked, and the mask was back.

“Maybe I’m tired of being the perfect little Catholic girl,” she said, her tone light but cutting. “Did you ever think of that?”

Oscar stared at her, searching for the girl he knew beneath the stranger in front of him. “This isn’t you,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

She pushed off the wall, brushing past him. “Maybe you never really knew me.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving him standing alone in the alley, the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air.

That night, Oscar lay awake, staring at the cracks in his ceiling. He wanted to help her, to pull her out of whatever dark place she’d fallen into, but he didn’t know how. She wouldn’t let him.

For the first time in years, he prayed not for himself, but for her.

“God,” he whispered into the stillness of his room. “Please. Bring her back.”

It became a pattern.

Oscar would see her slipping further away, each time a little less like the girl he had grown up with and a little more like a stranger. Sometimes it was behind the convenience store. Other times he saw her stumbling out of a car that didn’t belong in their quiet town, the headlights cutting through the dark as it sped off, leaving her swaying on the curb.

She wasn’t hiding it anymore.

When their paths crossed now, she barely looked at him. Her words, when she offered any, were short and cold, like she was daring him to stop caring. But he couldn’t stop.

So he prayed.

Every night, he knelt by his bed, his hands clasped tightly together, his eyes shut so hard it hurt. He prayed for her to come back, for her to see what she was doing to herself. He prayed for the strength to find the right words, the right actions, anything to pull her out of this spiral. But every morning, when he saw her again—laughing too loud, her eyes bloodshot and empty—it felt like no one was listening.

One night, well past midnight, there was a knock on his window. He woke with a start, his heart pounding, and stumbled to open it. She was standing there, her hair tangled and wild, her face streaked with something he couldn’t tell if it was makeup or tears.

“You need to stop,” she said, her voice slurred but venomous.

“Stop what?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“Praying for me,” she snapped. “I know you’re doing it. Just… stop.”

Her words stung, but what hurt more was the way she looked at him—like he was the enemy. Before he could respond, she turned and disappeared into the night, leaving him standing in the cold.

A week later, it was her mum who knocked—not on his window, but on his door.

Oscar opened it to find her standing on the porch, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. She looked older than he’d ever seen her, like the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders and wouldn’t let go.

“Hi, Ms,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

She didn’t move. Instead, she stood there, clutching the edge of her sweater like it was the only thing keeping her together. “Oscar,” she began, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”

He felt his stomach sink. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s her,” she said, her voice cracking. “She’s… I don’t know what’s happening to her. She barely comes home anymore. And when she does…” She broke off, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Oscar didn’t need her to finish. He’d seen it all himself.

“I’ve tried talking to her,” Her mother continued, her words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve begged her to stop, to come back to church, to tell me what’s going on, but she won’t listen. She doesn’t even look at me anymore. And now…” She trailed off again, her shoulders shaking as tears filled her eyes.

Oscar reached out instinctively, placing a hand on her arm. “Ms…”

She shook her head, brushing his hand away. “I don’t know what to do, Oscar. She’s slipping away from me, and I can’t stop it. I thought maybe you could… I don’t know. Talk to her. Get through to her. She listens to you, doesn’t she?”

The desperation in her voice was like a knife in his chest.

“She used to,” he admitted, his throat tight. “But not anymore. She won’t let me help her. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so many times.”

Her face crumpled, and she let out a sob, covering her face with her hands. “She’s all I have,” she choked out. “It’s just me and her. I don’t know how to do this alone.”

Oscar hesitated, his heart breaking at the sight of her. He wanted to promise her that he could fix everything, that he’d bring her daughter back, but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

Instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment, then broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his own voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, the house silent except for her quiet, broken cries.

When she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes, she gave him a look so full of raw hope it made his chest ache. “Please, Oscar,” she said. “Don’t give up on her.”

He nodded, though his heart was heavy with doubt. “I won’t.”

But as he watched her walk back across the front garden to her house, the weight of the promise settled over him like a stone. He didn’t know how to save someone who didn’t want saving.

So that night, like every night before, he knelt by his bed and prayed.

“God,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice trembling. “Please. Show me what to do.”

That night the ringing of his phone jolted Oscar out of a restless sleep. For a moment, he thought it was his alarm, but the screen glowed faintly in the dark: Unknown Number.

He rubbed his eyes and answered, his voice groggy. “Hello?”

The sound on the other end wasn’t words at first. It was crying—deep, heaving sobs that clawed at his chest before he even recognised her voice.

“It’s me,” she managed between gasps.

Oscar sat up so quickly the blankets slid off his lap. “Where are you? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she choked out. “I’m… I’m at this party, and I—I took something, and now I can’t—” Her voice cracked, and she let out another sob. “I feel so weird, Oscar. I feel like I’m dying.”

His heart dropped. “You’re not dying,” he said quickly, already grabbing his keys from the nightstand. “You’re not. I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are.”

She mumbled the address through her tears, barely coherent, but he caught enough to recognise the street. It was across town, the kind of neighborhood he tried to avoid.

“Stay where you are,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.”

He hung up and bolted for the door, his chest tight with fear.

The streets were eerily quiet as he sped through town, the glow of his headlights slicing through the darkness. His mind raced faster than the car, flashing through every worst-case scenario he could imagine. He gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his foot pressing harder on the gas.

When he turned onto the street, he knew he was in the right place. Cars were lined haphazardly along the curb, some with doors still hanging open. Music blared from the house, but the sound was disjointed, chaotic.

And then he saw them.

A wave of people surged out the front door, spilling into the front garden and onto the street. They were shouting, laughing, some tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Oscar pulled over and jumped out of the car, his heart pounding.

“What’s going on?” he yelled at one of them, grabbing a guy by the arm.

“Cops are coming,” the guy slurred, shaking him off. “Some girl OD’d, man. It’s bad.”

Oscar didn’t wait to hear more. He shoved his way through the crowd, pushing against the flow of bodies until he reached the front door. The smell hit him first—alcohol, smoke, and something sour underneath.

Inside, the scene was chaos. The music was still blaring, but most of the partygoers were gone, leaving behind overturned cups and broken bottles. He stepped over a pile of discarded coats and followed the sound of a frantic voice.

In the living room, he found her.

She was lying on the floor, her face pale, looking like nothing he’d ever seen before. A girl about their age was kneeling beside her, pressing her hands against her chest in a desperate rhythm.

“Come on,” the girl muttered, her voice shaking. “Come on, don’t do this.” She glanced up briefly, her phone pressed to her ear. “Yeah, I’m doing compressions,” she said into the receiver. “Please, hurry.”

Oscar froze for a moment, the sight stealing the air from his lungs. She looked so small, so fragile. Her hair was damp with sweat, her lips tinged blue.

The girl performing CPR looked up again, her eyes wild. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help?”

Her words jolted him into motion. He dropped to his knees beside them, his hands trembling as he reached for her. “What happened?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” the girl snapped. “She took something—pills, I think. Someone said it was laced, but I don’t know with what.” 

Oscar’s hands hovered uselessly over her, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never been trained for this, never thought he’d need to be.

But he knew he needed to do something, looking at the girl in front of him, he watched her hands and pushed them aside, continuing for her. 

“She went upstairs to take a phone call, walked back in and collapsed.” The girl sat back on her heels, then leaned forward to blow two breaths into her mouth. “They thought it was a joke at first, but it all got so serious all of a sudden.” Oscar continued the same rhythm on her chest, watching as the girl flexed her hands nervously. Underneath his breath, he was silently praying that someone was listening, because in the last couple of weeks he was beginning to lose faith. No one listened to him when he was desperate, begging for someone to save her.

“Stay with me,” the other girl murmured, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “Don’t you dare give up.”

The distant wail of sirens broke through the chaos, growing louder with every passing second. Relief flooded Oscar’s chest, but it was fleeting. He looked down at her pale, lifeless face and felt the weight of every prayer he’d ever whispered.

“God,” he said under his breath, his voice breaking. “Please. Don’t take her.”

The sirens grew deafening as the paramedics burst through the door. Oscar was pulled back, forced to watch as they took over, their voices calm but urgent as they worked to save her.

He didn’t realise he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips.

As they loaded her onto a stretcher and wheeled her out the door, Oscar followed, his legs unsteady but his resolve firm. He wasn’t leaving her—not now, not ever.

He watched them close the doors of the back of the ambulance and ran back to his car to follow them when he saw the girl weakly walk out of the house. He could have just left her, but she had just saved his best friend’s life. Instead, he walked back up to the house, hugged her and offered her a lift.

When Oscar finally got to the hospital, it was cold and quiet in a way that felt wrong, like it was holding its breath. Oscar sat in the hard plastic chair next to her bed, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped tightly together. He had barely spoken to anyone since they arrived, giving only short, clipped answers to the nurses’ questions.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at her pale face, willing her to wake up. The IV in her arm looked too big, too intrusive, and the steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing anchoring him to the moment.

Finally, her eyelids fluttered.

He shot upright, his breath catching as she groaned softly, her head turning toward him. Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and heavy, but when they landed on him, recognition flickered.

“Oscar?” she croaked, her voice barely audible.

Tears sprang to his eyes, and he let out a shaky laugh that was more relief than joy. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He never cursed. 

She blinked, her gaze shifting to the IV in her arm, the sterile hospital room around her. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, his voice breaking.

She shook her head weakly, then winced. “I… I don’t know. I was at the party, and then…” Her voice trailed off, her brows furrowing as if the memory was too painful to touch.

Oscar leaned closer, his face inches from hers. “What were you thinking?” he asked, his voice low but trembling. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you? You could’ve—” He stopped himself, his chest heaving as he swallowed back the lump in his throat.

This wasn’t what she needed to hear.

She looked away, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “I didn’t think it would…”

Oscar let out a shuddering breath, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I lost you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

They sat in silence, the weight of his words hanging between them.

A nurse came in not long after, checking her vitals and saying she’d be discharged soon. Oscar nodded numbly, his mind already racing.

When they stepped out of the hospital, the chill of the early morning air hit them both. He helped her to the car, her steps unsteady, and buckled her into the passenger seat. She leaned her head against the window, her eyes glassy and distant.

“I’ll call your mum,” he said, turning the key in the ignition.

“No,” she said quickly, her voice hoarse but firm.

Oscar paused, his hand on the wheel. “I need to tell her. I stopped the hospital from calling her.”

“Please, don’t,” she said, her voice breaking. She turned to him, her eyes pleading. “I can’t face her right now.”

He hesitated, the conflict written all over his face. “What do you want me to do?” he asked finally, his voice soft.

“Just drive,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

So he did.

They didn’t talk as the car rumbled down the empty highway. The radio was off, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of her shifting in her seat.

She didn’t cry, but her silence was heavy, and Oscar didn’t push her. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.

After a couple of hours, her breathing evened out, and when he glanced over, he saw that she’d fallen asleep, her face turned toward him, her expression soft but exhausted.

He sighed, his chest aching with a mix of relief and sadness. He took the next exit and drove toward her house.

When they arrived, it was still early, the sky a pale gray as dawn broke. He parked in front of her house, then got out and walked around to her side. Carefully, he opened the door and unbuckled her seatbelt, slipping an arm under her knees and another around her back.

She stirred slightly as he lifted her, but she didn’t wake. Her head lolled against his chest, and he carried her up the porch steps and knocked softly on the door.

It swung open almost immediately, and her mum stood there, her face a mixture of worry and exhaustion. When she saw her daughter in his arms, she let out a strangled cry, her hands flying to her mouth.

“She’s okay,” Oscar said quickly, his voice gentle. “She’s just sleeping.”

Her mum nodded, tears streaming down her face. She stepped aside, and he carried her inside, laying her gently on the sofa.

Her mother sank to her knees beside her, sobbing quietly as she brushed the hair from her daughter’s face. “Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at Oscar. “Thank you for bringing her home.”

Oscar knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She’s going to be okay,” he said softly, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

They sat there for a while, her mum’s quiet cries filling the silence.

Eventually, Oscar cleared his throat. “Do you have a spare set of sheets?” he asked.

She looked at him, confused. “Why?”

“I’m going to stay,” he said. “Just for tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Her mum nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice breaking.

Later, after setting up a makeshift bed on the floor beside the couch, Oscar lay there, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet now, her mum having gone to bed, but he could hear her breathing softly above him.

He closed his eyes and whispered another prayer, one of gratitude this time.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for giving her another chance.”

And for the first time in a long time, he felt like someone was listening.

the end.

[holly-poly]

Holly Poly is, as the name implies, an exchange for polyamorous relationships. OT3s, OT4s, OT6s, orgies, open relationships, sedoretus, whatever strikes your fancy, as long as it involves three or more entities.

Participants are able to offer and request fanart, fanfiction, fanvids, podfic, fanmixes, gifsets, or aesthetics/moodboards.

Schedule

All times are 11:00am UTC, save for golive which will depend on when final pinch hits are posted.

08 12 October - 21 October: Pre-nominations. (Period to transfer nominations from last year’s tagset into this tagset) — NEW22 October - 02 November: Nominations 02 November - 12 November: Nominations clean up 05 November 12 November - 19 November: Signups 24 November: Assignments out by this date 12 January: Default deadline 19 January: Fanworks are due 26 January: The archive goes live (as soon as everyone has a gift) 02 February: Creators revealed

NEW SCHEDULE

All times are 11:00am UTC, save for golive which will depend on when final pinch hits are posted.

23 November - 02 December: Signups 04 December: Assignments out by this date 22 January: Default deadline (Countdown here) 26 January: Fanworks are due (Countdown here) 02 February: The archive goes live (as soon as everyone has a gift) 09 February: Creators revealed

You can read the updated rules over here.

We understand that life gets in the way sometimes. If you realize you will not be able to finish your assignment, please default as soon as possible. This year, 48 hours is the maximum extension that will be granted. You're free to still finish your assignment if you need more than 48 hours; however, if you ask for a longer extension or you don't post your fanwork by the extension deadline, then the request will be sent out as a pinch hit. There will be no exceptions to this rule. The FAQs for this year's exchange have been posted. Please let us know if anything is unclear. And, as always, leave a comment below if you have any questions. We're still looking for Holly Poly helpers. If you'd like to help behind the scenes, please check this post. Collection: https://ao3.org/collections/holly_poly_2024 Tag Set: https://archiveofourown.org/tag_sets/21262 Tumblr: https://holly-poly.tumblr.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/holly_poly_ex Google Groups - Holly Poly Updates: https://groups.google.com/g/holly-poly-updates Google Groups - Holly Poly Pinchhits: https://groups.google.com/g/holly-poly-pinchhits

[anim-ttrpgs]

A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club: Triangle Ageny

We are gearing up to play Triangle Agency in the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club! If you have ever wanted to check out Triangle Agency but haven't had the time or a group to do it with, join our book club! Signups are running from now until September 30th. Target date for the first session is around October 17th, 2024, but scheduling is super flexible, and also you don't have to buy the game to join, even though we encourage you to support the developers (we have made them an estimated $180 in sales already at the time of writing this)

If you want to support us and our mission to save the TTRPG hobby from total monopoly domination, you can join the book club through the link above even if you aren't signing up to play, you can support us on patreon, buy (or just freely download) the beta of our debute TTRPG Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, or just send us a tip on ko-fi!

[reasonsforhope]

Reasons for hope:

I saw Games Done Quick mentioned so I thought I would share Fandom Trumps Hate! FTH is an annual event founded in 2016 where fan creators put up fanfiction, fanart, and other fan projects (podfic, book binding, editing, all kinds of things) for auction and the proceeds go 100% to selected charities. The charities vary but have included LGBTQ rights groups, immigrant/refugee orgs, and even environmental groups like the Xerxes foundation. It's good fun and they've raised $300,000 across 8 years. Signups for this year start soon!

https://www.tumblr.com/fandomtrumpshate/771699225421594624?source=share

Thanks for sending this!! I'm actually a huge fan of Fandom Trumps Hate - I've participated several times.

They raise money for some really great organizations, focusing on smaller, more local organizations where a few thousand dollars can really make a huge difference.

They're really great, so if you're into fandom at all, I highly recommend checking them out!

[naritaren]

Want to help get the three count over hate (not the faction)? Want to make the bad in the world a bit better by making them tap out? Consider joining in on Fandom Trumps Hate this year!

What is Fandom Trumps Hate? It's a group of fandom creators who come together to offer up fanworks for charity! There are different charities supported, and it is a ton of fun! Donators bid on the items you offer up, and once a donation has been made, you get to work on making your fanwork!

Here is this year's calendar for the auction process!

FTH2025 Auction Calendar

Monday, January 20th: creator signups open for both the auction and the crafts bazaar

Sunday, February 2nd: creator signups close

Friday, February 21st: browsing period begins, crafts bazaar announcement goes live

Tuesday, February 25th, 8am ET: bidding opens

Saturday, March 1st, 8pm ET: auction bidding closes

Monday, March 10th: craft stalls close

Wednesday, March 12: proof of donations due

I've done this event for a few years, and it's always a good time. I would love to see more wrestling writers and artists get involved and help raise money for a good cause!

[dasmutquisition]

DASmutquition is cumming again

Welcome back to the 2025 edition of Dragon Age Smutquisition. The exchange is still being run by Jarak and a team of lovely mods who remind me to post things (and give me excellent titles). As I said last year, we’re all doomed, but that turned out to be a false alarm, so we might make it through this year too.

If you’ve not gathered what this is:

Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition is a fanwork gift exchange that showcases works rated Explicit in the DA Fandom. Any pairings or groups are eligible as long as they contain at least one DA Character from any DA Media. All works must be rated Explicit and tagged appropriately. The minimum is 1000 words or art equivalent (further details on requirements will be available on AO3)

2024 Important Dates:

Noms: Jan 1st - Jan 22th

Signups: Jan 15th - Jan 29th

Assignments sometime 30/31st

Due date: 10th March

Anon Reveals: 17th March

Creator reveals: 24th March

With regards to Veilguard:

Yes, we will be accepting Veilguard nominations and requests. However Firstly: given it's still quite soon after the game, to save me from going crazy during matching you will be asked to sign up with at least 1 request from a previous game. Secondly: I'll be posting some clever little bit of code you will be asked to use to hide all the veilguard prompts in requests so that people who wish to stay spoiler free still can browse safely. (Yes, some of us are sadly still not in possession of the game)

(And many thanks to Midnight for the banner - you lot didn't think Jarak did that did you?!)

[podficbigbang]

We're BACK, baby!

It’s been too long! And that’s on mod Kit. But I’m back and ready to GO! Now, the next Podfic Big Bang will not begin immediately. The plan is to establish a yearly schedule, and I also don’t like spanning years. So, we’re waiting for the new year! That gives you plenty of time to plan. But, since it’s been a long time, perhaps you have some questions.

What? The Podfic Big Bang is a scheduled event which asks podficcers to record, edit, and post podfics of epic length. At minimum, 10,000 words. Who? Anyone, in any fandom, can participate in the Podfic Big Bang, but please make sure you have permission to record your podfic of choice. When? The signup and start date will be January 1st, and the end date will be March 31st, with check-ins throughout. Where? Announcements and check-in posts will be made on Dreamwidth and Tumblr. Twitter will also be used for backup announcements, but will not be a primary communication tool. On March 15th, the AO3 collection will open for posting, though you are encouraged to post your podfic to the PBB Dreamwidth page, as well. How? Well, personally, I recommend recording a little bit every day. But you can also go wild and do the entire thing in a weekend. Just make sure you get some food, water, and sleep, huh? Why? Because we all like more podfic, but sometimes you want MOAR PODFIC. Community I recommend you join the PodfiChat Discord group. There are multiple discussion channels, including one just for project and fest discussions, which is where you can keep in touch with one-another outside of check-ins! Rules

Minimum length: 10,000 words

A multi-part series that adds up to 10,000 or more words is acceptable, but each part posted for PBB must not have been posted by you before. Multipods are always welcome!

So, if you’ve posted part 1 of a series, you can do parts 2+ for PBB, but part 1 does NOT count towards the word total.

You may submit as many qualifying works as you wish.

Collaboration is okay, but please specify that you are on a team when signing up.

Schedule

Sign-ups begin: January 1st, 2025

Check-in #1: January 22, 2025

Check-in #2: February 12th, 2025

Check-in #3: March 5th, 2025

Collection opens: March 15th, 2025

Collection closes: March 31st, 2025

Check-ins We highly recommend you participate in check-ins, whether on Dreamwidth, Tumblr, or Discord. However, you will not be disqualified for missing check-ins. This is casual, ya’ll. Cover art At check-in #3, a separate post will be made to the general Amplificathon Dreamwidth page, allowing podficcers to request art. Posting guidelines An AO3 collection for Podfic Big Bang 2025 will be opened on March 15th. This will be a REVEALED collection, so your podfic will appear once it’s posted, instead of waiting for the 31st. BUT, once the 31st is over (UTC time), the collection will close, and no further works will be accepted. Want to talk to us directly? The best way to contact Kitsune Heart is through Discord, particularly the PodfiChat Discord! She is user KitsuneHeart#8371.

[mp100secretspirit]

Welcome to the Mob Psycho 100 Secret Spirit 2024 Gift Exchange!

All right! The interest poll got enough engagement that we are doing this thing again! Woo-hoo!

Signups Open: October 8th Signups Close: Midnight EST October 22nd Assignments Sent Out: October 29th Check-In: December 1st Posting Period Begins: December 29th Assignments Due: Midnight EST on December 31st, 2023

Please check out the GUIDELINES AND FAQ under the cut!

Guidelines and FAQ:

What is the Secret Spirit Exchange: The MP100 Secret Spirit Exchange is an anonymous holiday gift exchange for the Mob Psycho 100 fandom!

Content Guidelines: Adult/minor pairings and incestuous content is absolutely not allowed. Additionally, since this is an all-ages exchange NSFW content is not permitted; please keep your shipping content PG-13!

What sort of prompts can I request? You can request up to three prompts, and they can be as general or specific as you would like! Prompts can focus on a character or group of characters, a relationship, a part of canon you would like to see explored, a specific scenario . . . really, whatever you want!

Can I request ship content? Yes, as long as it adheres to the content guidelines! However, we ask that at least one of your prompts be gen so your gift-giver has more options to work with.

Can I request AUs? Absolutely! However, we ask that at least one of your prompts be based on canon in case your gift-giver is unfamiliar with the AU in question.

How are assignments sent out? Assignments are sent via email, so please make sure the email you provide on the signup form will reach you! Assignments will include your recipient’s Tumblr url, their prompts, and any personal content guidelines they’ve provided.

I signed up, but I didn't receive an assignment! PLEASE CHECK YOUR SPAM FOLDER! Email clients love to eat exchange signups for some reason. If it's not there, message the mod!

What can I make for my gift? All kinds of fanworks are encouraged! You can write fic, make fanart, put together an AMV, write a song, or anything else you can think of! The only rules are that it must be your own work (no AI-generated content), it must be given over the internet (we cannot facilitate the delivery of in-person gifts), and it must adhere to the prompts and content guidelines provided by your recipient.

What if I have questions for my recipient? Remember, you have to be a secret spirit, so if you have any questions for your recipient, be sure to ask them on anon! If your recipient doesn’t accept anon messages or you have more general questions, send them to the mod, either on Tumblr or at mp100secretspirit@gmail.com

Do I need to show something for check-in? No, check-ins are just to remind you to be working on your piece! I know it's easy for exchanges to slip people's minds, so we're adding another reminder this year.

How do I post my work? Once we have reached the Posting Period, make a Tumblr post including your gift and tag your recipient! You may upload your gift elsewhere (for example AO3), but you still must make a Tumblr post with the link.

What if I have to drop out? If you do not think you can create a gift in the allotted time frame, we suggest that you do not sign up for the exchange. However, if something comes up and you need to drop out at a later date, please contact the mods ASAP! We need to make sure your recipient still receives a gift, so we appreciate as much warning as possible so we can make alternate arrangements.

What if I don’t receive anything by the end of the Posting Period? Message the mods!! We will double-check with your secret spirit, and if there is not a gift ready for you we will work with anyone who volunteered to fill in to ensure you get something!

[fandomtrumpshate]

FTH Signup: Changes and what to expect

The FTH signup form is long and can be confusing, especially for newbies! We've put together a brief overview document so you know what information you'll be expected to provide for your auctions. Please note that there is no "acceptance" process! If you fill out the form, we will generate an auction for you.

Here is the full list of this year's listed fandoms, but remember you can write in any fandoms you want that aren't on the menu!

If this isn't your first rodeo, please note the following changes from previous years:

You can now set a requirement that you will only accept bidders age 18+. It is important to note that if you do this, we cannot actually prevent minors from bidding on you! However, it will be noted clearly on your auction post, and if you later learn that your high bidder is under the age of 18, you will be released from your obligation and they will be banned.

You can now offer multiple Written fanwork subtypes in one auction

Podfics now have shorter length options

We have split the content notes into four sections instead of three: Characters/pairings you are especially interested in, Subjects/tropes you're especially interested in, Anything you are NOT willing to address, and Other Notes. Each of these has a limit of 1500 characters. Note that you will need to fit your information for all chosen fandoms in this space.

Adding to the specialty tags Ace/aro characters, Gen/platonic works, and Rarepairs

Major changes to the fandom list:

Four new umbrella fandoms with subfandoms: MXTX works, HBO War, Minecraft Youtubers, and Thai BL. Note that MXTX's works will NOT be grouped together on the tag list on Dreamwidth, only for signup purposes, unlike most umbrella fandoms.

We are introducing a new "Any fandom I've created in before" option. This will take up one of your three fandom slots, but will NOT be tagged, therefore if you choose this option, we recommend you also choose your two most active fandoms to help bidders find you. Also be sure that the list of fandoms you've created in before is either in your auction text or easily found via your portfolio link.

One more big change that returning participants will notice: we are changing the listing format to have one auction per post, rather than combining all of a creator's auctions into one. We hope that this will make the auction simpler to navigate for everyone.

Signups open January 20 - take a moment now to read the full document to remind yourself what information you'll need, and reread our FAQ to make sure you understand our policies!

[sandersstudies]

Fabulous news out of my local youth arts nonprofit.

Their improvisation comedy class simply had too many signups this semester. I stepped in as an assistant teacher so the class could work in smaller groups and get students more specialized experiences, but myself and the director agreed this was a temporary solution.

I proposed a longer-term solution at the start of the semester and this week it was APPROVED.

Next semester, our advanced improvisation students have the chance to participate in a TTRPG campaign as an alternative to the class. This means our students who have a year or more of experience with both theatre basics and improvisational comedy now have the opportunity to try a roleplay-focused long-form improv story. We will both be actively playing the game and also discussing the shared skills of RP and performance, like character building, teamwork, and improvised dialogue.

I am so excited to tell my students and hope they get excited too. Depending on class sizes, I typically coach middle or high school students, but based on the extraordinary abilities of some of our younger students this year, this new class is going to be opened to experienced 5th+ graders. (For non-Americans, 5th graders are typically 10-11 years old.)

If you have experience with both live performance and tabletop roleplay, I'd love to hear your thoughts. For the sake of media familiarity, I'm starting my students with the recently updated 5e DnD handbook, but if the class is successful I would love to branch out with them in future semesters to try games that naturally put the focus on kid characters, like Bubblegumshoe or Kids on Bikes.

My nonprofit currently utilizes borrowed space but is working to fund the purchase of their own building. If that happened in the future and we had student interest, I would love to expand this class feature and host multiple sessions in a week and get more kids involved.

[dividedskiesrp]

DIVIDED SKIES: a new warrior cats RP group on Discord set in an original territory!

join fate-focused mistclan, community-focused briarclan, or honor-focused stormclan… who has, as of recently, splintered into a separate clan due to irreconcilable differences. now a fourth clan, dawnclan, has formed—if you've ever wished to roleplay the formation of a new group and its cultural identity from the ground up or play out all the politics involved in that, look no further!

with no strict activity requirements, DIVIDED SKIES is meant to be an easygoing roleplay; if you're an adult with a job and no time to write silly little cats more than once or twice a month, there's certainly no judgment here!

high ranks are available—fill out an application to join with our first wave now! signups will close on JUNE 12th, 2024!