#don't get your hopes up

[mercurygray]

Blind Dates Fest 2024 - Freda Torvaldsen, ARCS

A few days ago I asked for MOTA prompts, and @junojelli delivered:

A MOTA scene prompt for you: a new arrival is amongst the clubmobile ladies at the local pub one evening. Of course, it would only be right that they give her the lowdown on the men they can see in the bar, and the recent gossip on possible nocturnal escapades of course 😏

So! An extra Blind Date! You can learn more about @blind-dates-fest at their blog.

Fandom: Masters of the Air

It was only a matter of time before the subject came up.

“Can’t say I’ve ever met a Freda before.”

It was always like this, her first day in a new assignment, where you been, where you from, what do you do. And then inevitably someone would work around to the obvious. So... what’s a name like Torvaldsen doing with a name like Freda?

“And neither had my mother,” Freda said with a resigned smile, sitting down heavily and nodding thankfully to one of the other girls for the beer. “After my father and brother were both Peters I think she just wanted something interesting.” She shrugged. “She told me once she found the name in a short story in a woman’s magazine. Never got confused with another girl in class, though! Fred’s just fine, for every day use. It’ll get tossed in eventually, so we may as well start there.”

Fred was easy - approachable, even. A good way to start a conversation, a quick, easy joke to set everyone on the same level. Who’s on shift today, girls? Rose, Laura, and Fred. Wait, Fred? And she’d stick her head out from wherever she was hiding, and the boys would all have a laugh that Fred was really a twenty-six year old blonde from Madison, Wisconsin with a big smile, and not the paunchy driver from Brooklyn they all pictured when they heard the name. She didn’t mind the jokes, really - it made the whole job easier. So what’s your name, solider? You have a nickname, too? Where you from? The whole reason she was there, in three questions or less - to make the average G.I. feel at home, seen, valued and wanted.

“Where’d you say you were, before this?” Helen asked. At least, she thought it was Helen - or was it Ellen? Honestly, Tatty had run through the team of three pretty quickly this morning and she might have misheard. Tatty, of course, was easy to remember - Katherine Spaatz, with a last name the papers wouldn’t soon forget and a face that liked being photographed. Mary Boyle was the other, a sparkling-eyed Irish girl from Des Moines who looked like just the kind the fellows all liked to spin around a dance more than once. She couldn’t remember the name of the girl she was replacing, either - not that that mattered much. She was going home with the one non-communicable disease the Red Cross didn’t want to deal with - pregnant, Mary had mouthed across the table when they’d first met this morning, her fresh off the bus from London and Tatty skating artfully around the subject.

“Did a spell at the canteen in Washington, another couple months in London in a few different spots,” Freda offered. “I guess I’m a professional replacement at this point - which is either a compliment or a curse. You’ll have to tell me which.”

“Well, we’re happy to have you, for as long as we’ve got,” Tatty said with a nod. “Did they tell you what the work would be like? Working a base is different than canteen service.”

“The hours, for a start,” Mary said, rolling her eyes.

“If they’re running a mission, they’re up and at ‘em at 4:30 for a 5 am briefing, which means -”

“Service ready for 4:45,” Freda filled in, nodding along. “Means we’ll be starting about...three thirty, maybe, to have everything hot and ready?”

“Will that be a problem?” Tatty asked, her eyes dark and decisive across the table.

Freda shook her head. “Always was more of a morning person. How long are they usually out for?”

“Longer runs...six, seven, eight hours at a time? Tower will give us a ring when they’re expected back in, and then we rack up donuts and coffee in the interrogation hut. You’ll need to be sharp on that shift,” Tatty warned. “They don’t always come back looking pretty.”

“Doctor’s usually on hand to evaluate anyone who can walk. If they’re still standing he’ll turn ‘em loose on the interrogation team,” Mary explained. “Captain Brennan and her girls run that room - she’s nice, you’ll like her.”

“You’re not there to make small talk for that one - pass out coffee and get ‘em to their table as quick as you can. Each crew runs through the whole mission - what they saw, who they shot at, bombs dropped. The after-action report. Once they’re done, they’re free to leave, and so are we. We’ll do dishes and clean-up, and then get the coffee urns ready to drive ‘round to the crews. Can you drive?”

“Well enough for Wisconsin,” Freda offered with a shrug. “We had a Ford I could grind through.” She didn’t say anything about the last time someone had asked her if she knew how to drive, and how she’d nearly run over the campus mascot trying to muscle a Clubmobile into a turn.

“Sounds like you’ll be driving our Jeep, then. We’ve got one assigned to us.”

Freda nodded, trying to maintain serenity. Well, that’s all right. A Jeep’s not a remodeled London bus, and it sure as hell doesn’t drive like one.

“The planes are parked out on hardstands and the crew basically live out there while they’re working,” Tatty went on, “So we take coffee and sandwiches around once the planes come back in. They’re good guys out there - better than the flyboys, sometimes.”

“Now, Tatty, don’t go turning her head the wrong way,” Mary interjected, before Freda could ask what a hardstand was. “They’re all nice. Just take some getting used to.”

“Anyone I’ll need to watch out for?” Freda asked, glancing around the club, which was gradually beginning to fill for the evening - officers in their Class As, the gilt on their wings like sunshine, laughter like a river. The knucklehead who knocked up your friend, for instance?

Tatty made a gesture across the room towards the biggest group. “The tall one horsing around with the dartboard is John Egan - Major Egan, rather. Or Bucky, if you want nicknames. He’s mostly harmless, but he’ll flirt with anything. Just give as good as you get and you’ll be fine. Man next to him is Major Gale Cleven - also Buck - who you’ll wish was single and isn’t.”

“He’s got a girl back home in Wyoming,” Helen (Ellen?) put in, her smile a little wistful. “Ask him about her sometime.”

“Man with the permanent frown is Major William Veal - Bill, sometimes. He’s all business, you’ll never see him dance, so don’t ask. Tall fellow next to him with the lighter curly hair is Major Jack Kidd, also mostly business.”

Freda’s eyebrows went up. “Mostly?” Now there’s a word with a story.

It was Tatty’s turn to smile. “We think he might be sweet on Mary, when he lets himself.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Only because the rest of you gang up on him!”

“Those are the squadron commanders, anyway - the other pilots and navigators and crews report to them. It’s a lot of names,” Tatty said, almost dismissive.

Notice how she didn’t say I’d learn them, Freda thought to herself. They’d told her that much in London, when she’d gotten her assignment. Don’t get too attached to your post, or the soldiers there. They can change or leave at any time. It’s a war, not a weekend.

“Ladies! And how are we all on this fine evening, eh?” Here it was - faces up. Freda found her smile and turned to see who it was - a young man with black hair and blue eyes and a smile just this side of mischievous. And this one is named Trouble, I’ll bet. First lieutenant with flying wings - a pilot. “You all over here plottin’ somethin’ we fellas need to be made aware of?”

“Just introducing the new girl around, Curt.” Tatty gestured to Freda, on the other side of the table, who raised a hand and nodded hello.

Trouble (Curt?) smiled a little wider, his hand on Tatty’s shoulder, leaning closer over the table. “Oh, the new girl, eh? And does the new girl have a name?

“New girl answers to Fred,” Freda said with a patient smile, trying not to smile too hard at the patently obvious big-city, big-spender feeling rolling off of the lieutenant in waves. New Yorkers. You could run them off a press like that. It was funny, sometimes, how much they tried not to be types - but she’d known far too many men like him. That was the trouble with canteen service - you saw so many they all started to look the same. “And she’s not looking for another drink, before the lieutenant starts asking.”

“Tough customer!” He laughed at that. “Curtis Biddick, at your service, Fred. Now, if any one of these jokers starts anything or gets fresh, you come find me, alright?” He pointed, for emphasis, and she took note of the knuckles of his hand, the shortness of his nails. “Gotta take care of our girls, you know, since you’re always taking care of us.”

“I’ll certainly keep it in mind, Lieutenant.”

Biddick waved the rank away like it was a fly he were swatting. “Now, none of this lieutenant crap, Fred. My friends call me Curt.” He fixed his eye on her and she smiled, and nodded - heard and acknowledged. Confident they had an understanding, he clapped Tatty’s shoulder again and stood up. “Tatty. Mary. Helen. Fred. Yous all have a good night, now.”

“Well, there you are, Fred. If Biddick likes you you’re set. He was serious about finding him, too - he’s the company boxing champion.”

“Of course he is,” Freda said with a smile, finally able to place where she’d seen hands like that before. And a total sweetheart underneath all of it, if I read him right.

And a soldier, something in her head reminded her. That’s the trouble with working a base - they won’t just be here for a night. You’ll have learn their names, and their girlfriends, see them day in and day out - until one day you don’t.

She took a deep breath and a sip of her beer, still glancing around the room, at the laughing men at the dartboard, the craps game, the piano, everyone alive and free and full of life. Maybe it had been a bad idea to start with names.

---

Eagle-eyed readers will notice that I have name-dropped several new characters in here; one of them, Marion, is my other Blind Date this year. You'll meet her on Saturday!

[mustard-girl]

Snow White but make it a hanfu

[ghostoffuturespast]

Following the River ii

[garbagechocolate]

*sits down in the booth opposite you and slides this to you as i tilt my cool detective hat down to hide my face from prying eyes*

I'M PLANNING AN ANIMATIC OF IT

IT'LL BE HERE SOON OFFICER I SWEAR

[crownspeaksblog]

Wenclair fans.. please listen to your elders (we've watched supernatural and Sherlock) you're being queer baited.. this is literally queer baiting.. keep your expectations very, very low.

Edit: btw this is about some interview someone did, not about the show itself.

[jigsaw1974]

Would anyone be interested if I posted some of my Saw Trap inspired poetry?

[darkpoisonouslove]

Six Sentence Sunday

Here's a description that I'm too proud of to not share:

It helped that the sight before her commanded her attention. The witch on the throne was draped more heavily in magic than she was in the opulent, richly-colored fabric of her dress. There was an excess of it wrapping her shoulders and the impossibly high, pointy collar only served as the perfect backdrop for the hair cascading over one shoulder and down her front. The purple locks contrasted intensely with the pale skin of her crossed legs, exposed by the generous slit in her dress. It wasn’t the smirk curling her luscious red lips that made her look right at home on the throne but rather the way her eyes shined–like two suns illuminating every corner of the room and Faragonda’s soul alike–with innate, powerful confidence. She was a vision, a masterpiece framed by the luminescent aura of her own magical energy.

[deandoesthingstome]

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

@itbmojojoejo thank you for the tag, lovely!

So here's the thing: my writing muse has been verrrrrry non-existent lately. Along with having no time, I just can't conjure up more than a few "what if" ideas every now and then when the stars shift over one another briefly, sliding past too quickly for me to glimpse the true alignment.

So I give you this limited mess and tell you that even if you ask and love what you hear, it'll likely be tumblr-years before the celestial gods move things around the way I need.

Welcoming Committee - Alternate POV and/or Sequel

OFC/Reader x Ex!Sy - angsty with a possibility

Magazine Interviewer!OFC/Reader x some version of HC/August/other character? - either RPF (which I swore I'd never do again) or AU

Cop!Reader x HC - you know the one, again with the curse of RPF

Curious if you have anything going on @raccoon-eyed-rebel (🤭), @geralts-yenn , @mayloma , @ellethespaceunicorn For funsies if you want.

[mryoyo000]

asoiaf fanfic ideas

I have a few ideas for a fanfic story I'd like to try writing for ASOIAF (would be my first ever fanfic except for a terrible Animorphs fic I wrote when I was eight).

Aegon's Conquest fic about House Florent reacting to House Tyrell's elevated status as Lord Paramounts of the Mander. (I know my fox faves were FUMING.)

Something speculative about Valaena Velaryon, pre-Conquest.

Speculative backstory of Satin.

None of these will be well-written quality fics! But that won't stop me!! Any suggestions or preferences of which you'd like to read?

[me-miu]

Don't give up. You might be trying to get better grades but you still fail ? I know how that shit hurts. I know how tiring it is, but never give up.

Because of mental health reasons I have many struggles with school and exams, but I improve slowly. It takes a lot of time to get used to a productive and effective routine but it's definitely worth it.

♡♡♡ ily no matter what

[quillofspirit]

More trees!

Have I,

caved in?

Have I,

started a new document?

[garbagefirelol]

Eh it's close enough merry Christmas

*̣̥☆·͙̥❄‧̩̥࿌ིྀ྇˟͙☃️˟͙࿌ིྀ྇‧̩̥❄·͙̥̣☆*̣̥̣̥

I'll make DM Christmas content just wait y'all

[sfb123]

Thank you for the tag, @ao719!

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I have a lot of WIPs right now, and a good number of them are random scenes for Hands Down that are still several chapters out, but here we go...

Hands Down

Chapter 3

The Phone Call

The Interruption

Coming Close

Wedding Morning

Riley's First Ball

First Date

Arriving in Cordonia

Waking Up in Cordonia

Dance Class

Run in with Jeff

Book 2 Divergent

Anon Book 3 Hesitate

Disney World Ask

Not Like the Movies

Traditions

Ballerina Girl 2

I don't think I even know this many people on Tumblr, so I'll just tag a few people, and assume I'm asking them multiple times, @txemrn @charlotteg234 @sincerelyella @emkay512 @tessa-liam @burnsoslow @deb-1106

[allo-frouto]

Gaming ?

Some games to pass the time.

[end-fall]

Am I slowly amassing a document basically fanfic shorts of my dnd character? Yes. Are they as bordering on as horny as I am capable of writing? Maybe

[spidernerdsblog]

Omgggg Leah is surely a badass but what about her brother?? I still want to see Nathan quarrel with Leah over trivial things even if they’re like 25 haha

OK this is a little unedited sneak peek from we belong together

Nathan gets startled with the sound of the main door unlocking, the door knob twists and Nailah barges into his apartment.

“What the- Leah you can’t just walk into my apartment unannounced!” Nathan balks standing up from the couch.

“I can and I will!” She says haughtily. “Especially when my idiot of a brother is being a royal pain in the ass.”

“What did I do?!”

“Anna is getting married to Christian, Nate!” Nailah yells the news to him.

“Yeah I know that already.” he grumbles sitting back on the couch again as she looks at him incredulously.

“And you’re ok with that?!” 

“It’s her life, who am I to interfere?” he shrugs looking down at his outstretched feet.

“Oh really?” she quirks a brow. “I don’t think that was the case a while ago.” 

“Well she had to marry someday and I’m happy for her.”

“That’s why you're sulking over here all by yourself.” she drawls.

“I’m not sulking.” he hisses.

“The half finished bottle of scotch tells me something else, brother.” she gestures at the bottle on the coffee table. “Just admit it already, you love her.”  

“Will you just stop?!” the muscle in his jaws ticks with frustration. “I’ve told you a hundred times that she’s my best friend and nothing more!”

“You can fool others but not me Nathan. You have been head over heels for her since fourth grade.” Nailah looks him in the eye, not ready to take his bullshit.

“So what? Not everybody gets a happy ending like you Nailah.” he grits under his teeth as his gaze lands on her wedding ring.

“You never even tried to tell her, you dumbass!”

“Even if I told her it’s not like she feels the same for me.”

“Oh god you’re really dumb. How can you be my brother?” with an exasperated sigh she sits down beside him.

“Stop being so dramatic will you?” offended gives her an icy glare.

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you and let me tell you brother that’s not how somebody looks at their friend.” She air quotes.

“Well nothing can be done now after the incident.” He shakes his head not wanting to dwell on her words. “There's a lot of tension between the mobs and also she’s mad at me so we’re not quite on speaking terms at the moment.”

“Then go and apologize to her. You’re really gonna let her go without a fight?”