#long time no laramie. real long time

[sketchy-nick]

I 💙 this blue bard

[madlori]

I'm asking this to you because you're the only person I know who's been around fandoms for so long — do you find this shipping-situation weird? I've been in many fandoms but I've never really seen this insistence on there being only one acceptable ship for a character and encouraging the idea that anything other than the norm is almost sacrilegious. Almost every big fandom over the years have had multiple conflicting pairings, take for example, Marvel. Even works of media that have a canon romantic pairing have had fans who ship others with the leads (that was what shipping was tbh) and no one has ever shown up to their doorsteps with pitchforks in hand, at least not that I'm aware of. So I guess I'd really like your opinion on why you think this is happening now? Have things always been this way, just not in plain sight? Is this just the new fandom culture that is developing now with the influx of younger people? Or is this fandom an aberration where a group of people are so used to being the majority that they simply aren't taking well to things not going their way?

I've been thinking about this today, and I'm still not sure what I think.

I've been in fandoms with a hugely dominant ship before. I've been in fandoms that had ship wars. I've been in fandoms with a lot of peacefully co-existing ships. I'm not sure this fandom is really all that different. To answer your first question, no, I don't find it all that weird. In fact I sort of expected it.

Let me tell you a story about the Brokeback Mountain fandom, which managed to have a ship war despite having really only one ship, the canon ship. So BBM fic fell into several broad categories, the biggest of which were fix-the-ending/canon divergence fics and the straight-up AU fics (I wrote one of each, lol). Post-canon fics weren't as common, because you had to deal with one half of the canon pairing being...well, dead.

There was a post-canon fic that gained a lot of fans...and when I say "fic" that's really an understatement. It was a SAGA, and I don't use that term lightly. It was a series of like...6 or 7 epic 100K+ word fics and it was over a million words total. The author would put out more than one 5K chapters per DAY. I'm still in awe of this woman's output. But it was the content that created the issue.

(Brief recap for those who have not seen BBM - two ranch hands in the 1960s, Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal) spend a season herding sheep together, have sex, form a bond, then separate to go about their expected hetero lives but get together for fishing trips every year or so to have sex and spend time together. Jack wants more, Ennis is terrified. Both marry and have families. Eventually Jack dies in what is implied to be a gay-bashing but who knows, and Ennis makes his peace with the love he'd felt for him)

The saga picked up a couple of years after the film's events. Ennis decides to tentatively explore what being queer means, goes to Laramie, finds a gay bar, and very cautiously enters. Through a Series of Events he gets mixed up in an assault there and befriends a local sheriff's deputy, who is also gay. They begin a relationship.

Now, this series was COMPLEX. A huge cast of characters, a long and thorough evolution of this relationship, a lot of angst over Jack's memory, and it really worked for a LOT of readers. The new love interest she created was a really great character.

For others...it did not work and they hated it.

The animosity between fans who loved this saga and those that did not grew pretty heated. This was like '05 so there was no twitter or tumblr, this was all on LJ and dedicated fandom forums (some of which banned discussion of this fic for this reason), but there was doxxing and namecalling and real vitriol.

I guess my point in all this is that when there's strong feelings, some fans will find a way to be horrible to each other.

I was in the Sherlock fandom, another fandom 98% dominated by one ship. There were other ships, but somehow they seemed to co-exist mostly peacefully barring some snide remarks and rude comments (I could be wrong about this, if you asked someone who shipped a non-Johnlock ship they might have a different answer). No, the insanity in the Sherlock fandom was not ship-war-related.

I was also in the Criminal Minds fandom, which has a whole bunch of disparate ships and no ship wars that I can recall.

Then there are other fandoms, like Avatar, with TERRIBLE ship wars that are still going on.

I don't think the situation in 9-1-1 is as unique or different from other fandom wanks as has sometimes been asserted. I think terrible fandom wars are sort of inevitable, whether they're ship related or not. But for what it's worth, here are some of my thoughts on what's going on here.

A loooooong time (5.5 seasons) with one very dominant non-canonical queer ship. No other ship really ever approached the level of saturation or devotion of Buddie.

A pervasive belief that this ship might possibly become canon. That's a feature a lot of other ships do not have.

A lack of intense devotion to any of the other love interests. BuckTaylor was never a challenger to Buddie. Neither was Eddie and Shannon, or anybody else. It's hard to fight when there's no worthy challenger.

But now? BuckTommy is not only canon, but it has a lot of fans. It's a threat. And it's not only a threat in a feelings kind of way (as in, people like a thing that is not the thing I like and it makes me upset) but there's a perception that it's an ACTUAL threat, as in if people like this ship and promote it, it could cause it to become a permanent relationship (the degree to which fan response actually affects how the show unfolds is...debatable).

I do not personally think this is the case, but some fans strongly believe that Buddie could still happen if it weren't for BuckTommy. So if you're still wanting Buddie and believe it will or could happen, the existence of an alternate love interest represents a direct obstacle to that happening. That's a heck of an incentive to hate that competing ship. I get it.

That...might be a somewhat unique situation. There's a fight now because there's a challenger who might actually stand a chance.

This goes along with what we saw in the immediate aftermath of 7x04. I read someone else say (apologies, I don't know who it was, feel free to @ me if it was you and I'll credit you) that the early post-7x04 enthusiasm and acceptance of Tommy reflected the belief that he was temporary. A lot of folks thought it was just a way for Buck to get with Eddie, like, very soon after that. But the more time went by, the clearer it became that this was not the plan or the intention. So the mood soured for those who were still pulling for Buddie.

Other fandoms I've been in with a hugely dominant ship...Sherlock and X-Files are the two that spring immediately to mind...there was never a challenger with any legs. X-Files fandom wank was between the ship and the...lack of ship, shall we say. But a concrete, tangible "opponent" makes a fight so much more visceral, doesn't it?

I do think there's been a fandom shift towards needing ships to be canon that I don't really get, but it's there. There's been a lot written about fandom culture in the last ten years, the breakdown of boundaries between fans and creators, the access to those creators, a sense of ownership/entitlement, purity culture, obsession with shipping "correctly" (which leads into wanting things to be canon for the validation)...these are all newish features. So pile that on top of 9-1-1 having a longtime single ship that's legitimately threatened for the first time in its existence by a competing canon ship and it's kind of a powderkeg.

No wonder it's caught on fire.

[myemuisemo]

Suddenly, Letters from Watson dumps us in the middle of the Great American Desert (part 1 of "On the Great Alkali Plain," 2/7/24). This is not anywhere I expected to be transported from London, and the contrast makes the Mountain West feel exotic for a minute.

The Great American Desert -- stretching from about Grand Island, Nebraska to the Sierras and pretty much the entire north-south length of the U.S. -- had become a thing of legend since explorers' accounts in the 1820s. When Dad and I drove across it in 2022, we talked about how incredibly daunting it must have been for emigrants seeking their land of milk and honey on the Pacific coast.

The way we went, out I-80, Nebraska shifts from green to gray as it rises toward the Rockies. After a while, the wind picks up as you go uphill into Wyoming. There's a lot of Wyoming, and after Cheyenne and Laramie (both of which would be small towns in most states), it's very, very empty. When we finally started the descent toward Salt Lake City, and the little valleys beside the road turned green with running water, it was truly like entering paradise.

Of course, in 1847, Salt Lake City was just barely being settled, as Brigham Young led his Latter Day Saints west from Council Bluffs, and its location wasn't part of the U.S. yet.

The Mexican-American war had started the prior year, 1846, and was still going. Spring-summer of 1846 saw the Bear Flag Revolt in California, followed by the U.S. just annexing the state. Gold wouldn't be discovered at Sutter's Mill until 1849, so while emigration to California happened -- the Donner Party made their ill-fated trip in 1846-47 -- it wasn't anything like the scope of movement along the Oregon Trail.

As far as I can tell, "Sierra Blanco" is not a real place. There's a Sierra Blanca in New Mexico -- which would fit with all the specific landscape, plus White Sands National Park in New Mexico specifically has alkali flats. Last time I drove through New Mexico on I-40, in late 2018, it was delightfully desolate, so I can buy that in 1847, it seemed completely empty, with even the native peoples avoiding some stretches.

Why anyone would be crossing New Mexico is a mystery, since neither Arizona nor southern California were much settled by Americans. There was some sort of wagon route across New Mexico used by U.S. soldiers during the Mexican-American War, so if I'd expect anyone to be about, it'd be the U.S. Army.

Utah, now, is downright famous for its salt flat, but that's west of the site of Salt Lake City.

Regardless, parties screwing up their trip to the west by taking an imprudent shortcut or mistaking the route was definitely both a thing that happened and, thanks to the Donner Party, a trope. Our haggard and starving traveler sounds about right.

Then he reveals a Plucky Innocent Victorian Child.

That "pretty little girl of about five years of age" is the absolute ideal of Victorian childhood, being perfectly behaved, utterly imperturbable, determined to see the best in all things, sweet, trusting, and looking forward to being reunited with her mother in heaven.

This kind of child is why Louisa May Alcott was seen as innovative for writing Little Woman about girls who worked on their character flaws. (This is also the ideal the March girls were being aimed at. Polly in An Old-Fashioned Girl comes closer, but even Polly would have been upset about being hopelessly lost in the desert with no water.) Contrast this with the street urchins that Holmes employs in his investigation, who are good enough sorts but scrappy, resourceful, and street smart.

Ordinarily, a Victorian child who was utterly sweet and pious would be a cinnamon roll, literally too good, too pure for this world, and thus would die beautifully but tragically before long. Being lost in the desert seems ideal for this, but --

She turns to prayer, and since someone must survive in order for this scene to be relevant,

Yes, darn it, I am on the edge of my seat to know what happens. I'm also grateful that crossing the Great American Desert in 2022 was a quicker process. I've been reading Carey Williams' old-but-interesting California: The Great Exception, which has a lot to say about how 19th century isolation shaped California's economy and power structure, not always for good. But that's neither here nor there -- I don't think we're headed to California.

[stigmvtas]

welcome to marina, CARNELIAN ST. GERMAIN ( nonbinary, he/they ) ! they are a TWENTY FOUR year old who has lived on the island for THEIR ENTIRE LIFE. word on the street is they’re currently living in PROSPECT HILL and works as a WAITER / FISHERMAN. everyone also says they look a lot like JONATHAN DAVISS. what do you think? — JAMES, 24, THEY/THEM, EST.

MENTIONS OF DEATH AND ANXIETY.

profile.

full name: carnelian laramie st. germain.

birthday: july 4th, 1999.

astrology: cancer sun, pisces moon, virgo ascending..

sexuality: bisexual.

currently listening to: rock n roll victim by death.

last known location: [[[cannot be found]]]

PINTEREST.

brief history.

the st. germains have lived in marina since forever - years and years of one shared houseboat, and a scattering of ships all belonging under their one family name. every st. germain born on - board of one; never in hospital.

they live modestly, make their fair share of wages through fishing - what their family has always done, and will likely always do. it's good money, brings them enough to get by and then - so.

carn is the youngest of four; the baby of the family and well - loved on hand - me - downs and the protection of their siblings' collective reputation.

there's a long - known superstition running throughout their family; that they were cursed by a sea witch once, that one member from every generation of their small family would lose their mind, and thus their life. carn always took it for granted - an old tale the older members of their family would spin to scare the young'ins into taking better care of one another.

death; it isn't until his uncle's sudden and unexpected death during their childhood that the curse feels real to carn. he's always been carn's favorite, the same gentle temperament and easy smile - but he changed in the few months prior to his death; would come around confused, or angry - sometimes wouldn't say anything at all but stare, and stare. until he could stare no longer.

anxiety; it becomes a genuine fear of carn's - the passage of time and the deterioration of the mind; jumpstarts their anxiety, a struggle since childhood. keeps them from truly living - from exploring what life could be outside of marina. wants to spend as much time with his family as possible before the "curse" transfers to one of them.

still hasn't done much with his life. figures he'll either have time or just. die. weird acceptance of it - working part time at the diner but mostly on the family's fishing boat, trying to ignore their increasingly irrational thoughts.

facts & temperaments.

terrible at falling asleep - is often up late, looking up to the sky and drawing their own made up constellations. doesn't bode well for their early shifts fishing, or their late shifts waitering - but they're well liked enough that it doesn't matter.

people's princess. the diana of marina. gentle and thinks often of others before himself. gives a little too much just because he thinks that's what's right. believes very firmly in the concept of being a good person.

self medicates <3 loves weed. loves a good #420. dabbles in other good but infrequently because their anxiety sours anything else and makes him think he's like genuinely going to die soon.

anxiety; always in a constant state of sudden doom but it's near impossible to tell because they're all smiles and cool exterior. hates to worry others with their irrational thoughts.

a bit compulsive. has had the same meal at the diner since childhood, goes to and fro' work the same path everyday - hates change, and hates changing; hates everything new.

big on vintage stereos and the like. makes mixtapes for their friends and for every possible scenario and every possible feeling. it's their biggest love language.

can be a bit too idealistic as a way to combat like. the fact they think everything will go wrong and everyone will die and that he thinks something's out to get him. skeptical of others despite this, and despite the one (1) superstition he believes in.

can be a little self righteous in the sense that they think they're always right - can be a little too smug about it; but they're always well - meaning, always wants what they think is the best.

virtuoso don't let him pick up an instrument 'cos he'll start riffing and it will always end up being ska punk. astrology whore; reads the horoscopes religiously and is way too into it.

usually wearing a leather jacket and boots and their natural hair in all its beauty n glory. has too many earrings to count, and just as many tattoos.

falls in love with people everyday. a big lover. can't help it - always finds something about people to be interested in.

[scenearcee]

oh yeah I should probably tell you guys who I am

I’m Pierre Scenearcee (definitely my full name/sar) and I’m lvl 18 and a lesbian

I use she/it/he/xe pronouns and I’m autistic and have an undiagnosed neuromuscular disorder (I’ve been having appointments and going to hospitals for OVER A YEAR NOW)

my special interest is transformers!!! it will always have a special place in my heart. My current hyperfixations are TADC, POTO, BOTW/TOTK, DDLC, V for Vendetta, Evanescence, metalcore, pierce the veil, scenemo, makeup and skincare, cosplay, and theatre- whether it be tech activities or performance!!!

I’ve been in a production of the Laramie Project and for a long time activism has meant a lot to me, so if you have a problem with seeing real time shit on your feed don’t follow me :P

anyway I’m super cool and sexy I swear

[queencryo]

Red and I finally arrived home a few nights ago! I was gonna write this post last night but tumblr fucking ate it and this phone hurts my wrists when I type SO. here's some fucking bullet points!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- pengis

- We spent a really long time, cumulatively, avoiding mountain passes and driving out of our way to go to particularly mild or not-high ones. Shoutout to the wahwah pass in southeast utah for not killing us!!!!!!!!!!

- Plumas national forest in California is fucking BEAUTIFUL. Just jaw-dropping. Red fucking hated it because I took the corners a little hard, but the entire thing was absolutely beautiful. Just this gorgeous canyon that we were going through the middle of.

- My 18-135mm lens broke, so I was left with my 18-55mm kit lens that would come with this camera body if you bought it new like a loser. honk honk ::( Still, I think at least some of the pictures I got were good! And certainly I'll keep around most of the jpegs ::)

- We stayed in Reno. It fucking sucked, honestly, because the town was basically shut down because of unhistoric snow, and our hotel was bizarelly under construction? Like... walk between two pieces of plywood three feet apart to get between the front desk and the elevator sorta under construction. The room was nice though ::) 

- As mentioned previously, we also stayed in Laramie Wyoming for two days. It was a good recharge, plus a developed an addiction to gas station coffee (yay?)

- Before going to Laramie, we went over a strange mountain highway that used to be the Lincoln Highway. It was beautiful, but I spent a large portion of our time on it musing about death, memory, and human life. Red didn't like it very much, since I was driving at the time. Also, apparently the guy who was involved with planning the highway route was an outdoorsman who specifically asked to be buried on this one hill. At the rest stop we stopped at, there was a plaque saying "yeah we didn't bury him on that hill lmao" huh???????????????

- If you're ever in Trinidad, CO, USAmerica, look up Trinidad's Higher Calling U, pretty sick weed shop. They seem overpriced but also like really cool folks. While you're there, look up the art cartopia, which is a warehouse where some weird folks keep a ton of art cars. Absolutely thrilling!

- Our stay in Primm, NV was pretty nice. We stayed in the Buffalo Bill resort/casino (inspiration for the bison steve hotel from NV!!) and saw the Bonnie and Clyde Death Car (a hilariously gauche attraction if ever there was one), I took pictures in front of it! The hotel room also was not super expensive and had a very large bath tub so we took a hot bath together (because we are gay), it was lovely as can be.

- During the secnd to last night of travel, we were pushing hard and drove until like 2 AM. At one point, I drove us to the end of a mountain pass and once we were finally flat again I turned to Red and said "So. Now that we're at the end of that. I think it's safe to tell you that I think I've been hallucinating for the last 30 minutes." I also had a lot of sexual fantasies about the 18-wheeler next to us during a lot of that time. Not the driver, the truck itself, as it existed in motion. Not sure how to explain it. The real will recognize.It was quite frightening in retrospect.

- of the gas station chains we stopped at, I think Maverik was my favourite (this is something I have a preference on now). Every maverik we stopped at at least had hot dogs and decent selection, and none of them disgusted me.

- As far as independent gas station go, I think the one in Dunsmuir, CA, is my favourite, because it felt like a dream and also the guy working there was very nice to me and gendered me correctly (in that sort of intentional way when someone isn't quite sure what to make of you, I think). Gold star.

All in all I'm genuinely a little surprised we made it home safe. More because I catastrophize than anything else, but... yeah, lmao. 

Sometime, I need to chart out our route for the whole trip. Just so that I have it around. I don't think I'll share it though, because it's... kind of embarrassing, how bad a route we took lmfao.

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

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**Limited time sale!

The Bellehaven Hotties Series is a small town, blue collar, contemporary romance at its best. From USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Chasity Bowlin and USA TODAY and WALL STREET JOURNAL Bestselling Author, Laramie Briscoe, it features trope heavy, low angst, high heat stories—with no billionaires in sight.

Hard working, hard playing and hard loving characters that will steal your heart.

This collection of the first three books in the Bellehaven Hotties Series gives you all the highs, lows and sighs of second chance, secret baby, age gap, forbidden love, alpha males who aren’t a-holes, and the strong women who give as good as they get.

One Night Slam: Secrets never stay hidden for long in small towns. And when former pro basketball star, Cody, comes home to coach the high school team, one of the players bears an uncanny resemblance to him. When he finds out that players mother is Emma, a prom night hookup that he always wished had been more, it opens a world of questions and a world of possibilities.

Locked Up One Night: What do you do when the person you want most is completely forbidden? Troy and Lizzie have been circling one another for years, hiding their desire for one another behind sarcastic comments and nasty attitudes. She’s too young… and she’s also his ex wife’s baby sister. It couldn’t be more wrong. But when he holds her, it feels oh so right.

One Night Redemption: Cassie has been secretly in love with Cam for years. When he finally notices her, she gives him a fair shot—but he gets spooked and blows it by standing her up without a word. But something happens that changes Cam’s life, that makes him want to be a better man… for the right woman. For Cassie, if he can convince her that he’s ready for the real deal.

Includes new, never before released bonus content for all three books!

[cocktailsfairytales]

★ 📚 ★ BOOK SALE ★ 📚 ★

Grab the Bellehaven Hotties Box Set (books 1-3 + bonus content) by Chasity Bowlin & Laramie Briscoe for just 99 CENTS!!

Amazon ➜ https://amzn.to/3N88XFt

**Limited time sale!

The Bellehaven Hotties Series is a small town, blue collar, contemporary romance at its best. From USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Chasity Bowlin and USA TODAY and WALL STREET JOURNAL Bestselling Author, Laramie Briscoe, it features trope heavy, low angst, high heat stories—with no billionaires in sight.

Hard working, hard playing and hard loving characters that will steal your heart.

This collection of the first three books in the Bellehaven Hotties Series gives you all the highs, lows and sighs of second chance, secret baby, age gap, forbidden love, alpha males who aren’t a-holes, and the strong women who give as good as they get.

One Night Slam: Secrets never stay hidden for long in small towns. And when former pro basketball star, Cody, comes home to coach the high school team, one of the players bears an uncanny resemblance to him. When he finds out that players mother is Emma, a prom night hookup that he always wished had been more, it opens a world of questions and a world of possibilities.

Locked Up One Night: What do you do when the person you want most is completely forbidden? Troy and Lizzie have been circling one another for years, hiding their desire for one another behind sarcastic comments and nasty attitudes. She’s too young… and she’s also his ex wife’s baby sister. It couldn’t be more wrong. But when he holds her, it feels oh so right.

One Night Redemption: Cassie has been secretly in love with Cam for years. When he finally notices her, she gives him a fair shot—but he gets spooked and blows it by standing her up without a word. But something happens that changes Cam’s life, that makes him want to be a better man… for the right woman. For Cassie, if he can convince her that he’s ready for the real deal.

Includes new, never before released bonus content for all three books!

#BAPpr #ChasityBowlin #LaramieBriscoe #99centsale #booksale

[rotationalsymmetry]

I'm on Record of a Spaceborn Few and wondering how my sweet found family in a space ship series turned into a slog of unpleasantness and horror. Ah well.

So...Aya got some (presumably one off?) bullying, related to the anxieties she developed after a shared cultural trauma. And she wants to know why and her mother doesn't really know why and says sometimes kids do mean things to other kids because they think it's fun. Which I mean. She's not wrong. But like the line from Laramie -- "poor man do the bidding for the rich man" -- I don't think it can really be understood by looking at kids. The things kids bully other kids for the most are exactly the things adult society has the least tolerance for. Being r*tarded. Being gay. Not speaking the language the way the people around you do. Having the wrong skin color. Being physically disabled. Being neurodivergent. Especially if one of those things involves substandard personal grooming.

And one of the things kids consistently get bullied for, especially boys but girls too, is "being a wuss" -- being exceptionally afraid of a thing. Doesn't matter whether it's an unwillingness to face discomfort or just a truly unusual amount of discomfort, like a phobia. People can't tell the difference in anyone else anyways. Social pressure is strong to fake being normal, and if you can't, they'll break you. Adults do tend to cut other adults more slack -- higher status people always cut higher status people more slack, and adults who don't have too much wrong with them are higher status than children. But the same pressure exists in the adult world. Conform, or else fuck you.

The goal isn't to create healthy or happy people. The goal is to create people who can line up against a standard, regardless of personal cost. Aya didn't get bullied because she had a phobia. Aya got bullied because she didn't hide her phobia.

Anyways. That aside, this book is an interesting play against The Disposessed. It's got a similar "utopia but not really" thing going on and a similar actual society, although The Disposessed goes and breaks up families as default and Record very much does not.

The Harmangian thinks the dissatisfaction is that higher tech goods are nicer, more interesting, and she may be right -- the narrarive hasn't explicitly contradicted this yet -- but the book did start with a ship blowing up and their situation is explicitly not something they can keep up forever. If it wanted to be a very direct real world analog, it wouldn't just be needing outside assistance, it would also be military threat. I honestly am not sure what the author is trying to hit so far, there's more sort of international relations/global poverty/refugees social commentary than is typical for the genre (I'm not even sure what to call that, other than "you know, the subset of sci fi that contains hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy") and overall the narrative is very successful at pointing the locus of sympathy/identification at the people who aren't on top. But I don't think the Exodus Fleet really works as a direct analog of anything in our contemporary world, not accurately. I mean sure, globalization free trade etc etc, but that shit doesn't exist in a simple "some people have less resources" vacuum. The US has had an embargo on Cuba for decades and has been known to stage coups in Latin American countries and outright take over Middle Eastern ones just because, and then there was the Vietnam War and the Korean War, and you could argue those were a long time ago but well, the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq were this century. So, a country-ish-thing feeling pressure to economically integrate without any threat of military violence if they hold out is not ...analogous.

I guess it could be meant to be analogous to situations in the rural US, where you get towns where most of the young people leave when they grow up because there's more going on elsewhere, but I don't know why you'd explicitly create a society that's ethnically global south smush and then do that with it.

[mothandpidgeon]

The Outlaws (Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader) - Chapter 1

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: T (eventual E 18+ MDNI)

wc: 2.8k

summary: Wanted for murder with a bounty on your head, your only hope of escaping the Pinkerton detectives is an outlaw named Joel Miller and his sidekick Ellie. But Joel has other plans for you.

tags: old west au, train robberies, enemies to lovers, grumpy Joel, handcuffed together, period/genre/canon typical violence, alcohol, morally grey characters, assuming Ellie’s gender, reader has backstory, no use of y/n

authors note: it’s been a really long time since I’ve had the confidence to post a new series here. But these two have taken over my brain and I’m excited to share them with you. Thank you @ezrasbirdie for beta and generally cheering this idea on.

You’ve found yourself in some spots before but never one as tight as this. You’re seated in the passenger car of a train bound for Chicago. If you make it there, you’ll hang.

Your knee bounces anxiously. You’ve been wracking your brain for hours now. There’s got to be some way to escape but you’re fresh out of ideas. Unless you can smash the window and jump out of a moving train, you’re screwed.

“Quit that twitching or I’ll give you a real shiner,” Brown says from behind his newspaper. He’s sitting on the aisle, between you and freedom. There’s a holster on his hip, his fancy pistol a promise that you won’t get far if you try to run.

As you suck your teeth in response, he chuckles to himself, and you wish you could punch him again like you did back in Laramie. 

Six years in Wyoming and your luck has run out. It’s bad enough that you’re getting hauled back east but being pinched by a Pinkerton man in a silly bowler hat and that ridiculous tin badge is humiliating. He’s actually twirling his fucking mustache, the bastard. 

“I’m hungry,” you tell him as he neatly folds his paper. You’re not but you’re grasping at straws now, trying anything that might get him to give just an inch. 

“That’s too bad,” he says. He pulls a little paper bag of jelly beans out of his coat pocket and pops a few into his mouth.

Fucker. 

You chew on a hangnail, pressing your forehead against the window. Your best chance of getting off of this train is Brown dropping dead. You’ve been wishing for him to have a heart attack for the last 35 miles but no luck yet. When the train stops in Cheyanne, you might be able to make a break for it but it’s too risky. There aren’t a whole lot of elegant solutions left.

The landscape of the west rolls by as the train chugs along. Wide, churning rivers, thick forests, and mountains dusted with snow. It was beautiful back when this was your refuge. Now, it’s just something else to scowl at while you listen to Brown munch his candy. 

Your sigh fogs the glass. All you can do now is hope for a miracle. 

The train reduces speed to take a curve and all you can see are thick, tall trees with branches that shade the tracks. They go from a blur of green to clutches of pale, white trunks and you realize you’re seeing more and more details on each branch. The locomotive’s slowing. It’s huffing and puffing with effort, sparks flicking off from the wheels as the hulking thing crawls along. Soon it’s so slow that you could run faster. There’s no station in sight, you’re still deep in forest here. Something’s amiss. Maybe the train is broken, maybe they ran out of coal. How trains work is a mystery to you to begin with but they must break down sometimes. 

You chance a look at Brown. He’s all suspicion, sitting up a little taller, eyes searching around for the answer to the same question that’s on your mind. What’s going on here? 

Suddenly the train lurches to a halt. A hat box falls off of the overhead shelf and a few passengers brace themselves against the seats with grunts and complaints. 

“Are we stopping?” a man a few rows ahead of you asks no one in particular. 

The locomotive answers with a long, tired hiss. 

“You got something to do with this?” Brown asks you in a hushed tone. 

“How could I stop a train all the way back here?” you ask him. 

“Maybe one of your compatriots,” he says. 

You give a laugh. If there’s one thing you’ve never had in your life it’s scruples and if there’s two, it’s compatriots. You’ve been on your own since you were sixteen and there sure as hell isn’t anybody in the world that loves you enough to stop a train for you. 

You don’t feel sorry for yourself, never have. RIght now, in fact, you’re feeling pretty pleased. Any delay on this trip means more time to think. Hope blooms in your chest and you have to keep yourself from grinning so Brown doesn’t get the wrong idea.

The train is motionless for a while, murmurs of speculation from your fellow passengers. 

Then the car door slides open and in walks an outlaw with a pistol in each hand.

He’s slight. Short and scrawny and youthful, maybe sixteen years old. The bottom half of his pale face is covered by a dark red bandana, mousy brown hair under a worn hat.

“Ladies and gents, I regret to inform you that this here is a hold up,” he says, tone so cheerful, you’d think he was a carnival barker. But his voice isn’t as deep as you expected. In fact you’re skeptical that’s a boy under there. “Keep your hands where I can see ‘em and nobody gets hurt.” 

The other passengers gasp and whisper, nervous looks shared about the car. Your foot begins to bounce again as your mind races to figure a way to make this new wrinkle work in your favor. 

“That means you, too,” the kid says, sidling up to Brown. Now that she’s closer, you’re almost certain this outlaw is a girl. “No need for heroes here.” 

The Pinkerton man’s hand is laying on his revolver. 

“I suggest you move along to the others, young fella,” Brown replies. 

“Don’t be an idiot, buster,” the kid says. She cocks a pistol. 

There’s a long standoff between the two and nobody in the whole car dares to even breathe. 

The door slams open and you jump. 

A second outlaw enters. There’s a noticeable shift in the air. He’s imposing and dark, stalking in like a big dog, spurs jingling with each step. 

“What’s taking so long?” he asks. His voice is a cowboy drawl. He adjusts a canvas mail sack on his broad shoulder, no doubt stuffed full of money from the train’s safe. 

He’s dressed like any other outlaw, and you’ve seen your fair share. Shabby shirt, black waistcoat, a leather belt heavy with bullets around narrow hips. He’s got on a black hat and beneath it you spy dark curls threaded with silver, much older than the other robber. 

All you can see of his face are two brown eyes that flit between the standoff in front of him. He whips his colt 45 out of its holster with practiced ease. 

Brown’s outnumbered now. This is your chance. 

“You’ve got to help me, mister,” you say, rising from your seat with your hands up in surrender. 

Your sudden movement draws all of his attention. He points the barrel of his gun at your chest and your breath catches. There’s no point in being afraid, though. Odds are you’re going to die on the gallows anyway.  Maybe he’ll shoot you but at least you tried. Your heart’s thrumming in your ears.

“I ain’t on this train of my own free will,” you explain. 

“Quiet, you,” Brown growls.

“He’s a Pinkerton man. He’ll shoot you dead if you let him,” you say.   

You're sure Brown would love to glare at you if he didn’t have his attention trained on the man in front of him.

“Don’t worry about her,” Brown says. “I’ve got no quarrel with you, friend.”

The outlaw’s eyes narrow just the slightest bit.

“I’ve got a bounty on my head,” you say. All of your words are coming out fast.

“How much?” the outlaw asks.

“Enough,” Brown says. His hand stays on his gun. 

“He’s taking me to Chicago and I’m facing the rope,” you explain. “There’s a warrant in his breast pocket. It’s the god’s honest truth,” you say. 

The outlaw thinks for a moment and you tense. It never ends well for you when men think too much. 

“Take it off him. And the gun,” the outlaw says to his partner. Then he turns back to Brown and says, “Hands up.”

“I don’t intend to interfere with your business so long as you don’t interfere with mine,” Brown says.

“If you think you’ll have that gun up and shooting before I’ve put a bullet in you, you’re sorely mistaken. So I’ll give you one more chance to get your hands in the air,” the outlaw warns. His cold words light an exhilarating heat in your belly. 

Brown clenches his jaw but with two guns drawn on him he has no choice but compliance. You feel some vindication as he slowly raises his hands. 

With some fancy flips, the kid holsters one of her guns. Brown lets her take his pistol and pull the paper from his coat though he frowns all through it. 

You watch the outlaw skim the words on your warrant. His eyes bounce between you and the page. 

“She don’t look like the murdering type,” he says.

You suppose he’s right. You’re still rough around the edges but in your straw hat and prim, full skirt you might be mistaken for a school marm. That you certainly aren’t.

The kid looks at you with new interest.

“That’s up to the judge,” Brown says. “My job’s just to bring her to the law.”

“I’d be much obliged if you prevented that from happening,” you say. 

“Why should I?” he asks. 

You swallow. You’ve had to sing for your supper before but it’s never been a matter of life and death. 

“You’re going to steal her necklace and his wallet,” you say with a nod to the other passengers. “What’s the difference between that and little old me?” you ask. 

“Aiding and abetting is the difference—“ Brown begins indignantly. 

“You give her that black and blue?” the outlaw asks and there’s a new edge in his voice that thrills you.

You’ve almost forgotten about the mark on your cheek, when you and Brown came to blows that first encounter. He got you right in the under your eye where a big ugly welt remained. 

“She struck first,” Brown says with a smug little smile.

You want to knock his teeth out and it seems the outlaw has the same fancy. He whacks Brown right in the nose with his pistol. Brown wails and grabs his face, blood pouring between his fingers. Some of the other passengers gasp and a woman cries out in horror. 

You laugh so hard that it hurts the bruise.

As you step off the train you’re so flooded with relief. You’ve never been closer to catching a rope and your narrow escape, the pure fate of it all, is invigorating. The leaves look brighter than before and the air feels fresher even though coal smoke hangs all around you. 

You’ve got a second chance. Well, more like a hundredth chance. Anyone with an ounce of sense would see this divine intervention as a sign to change their ways, do things right. Not you. You just thank your lucky stars that you’ve put off meeting your maker by one more day. Whoever’s up there, you’ve managed to outsmart him so far and sometimes you’re arrogant enough to believe that you might avoid judgment day altogether. 

It takes you a moment to notice there are no other outlaws on standby. The tracks are obstructed by a pile of railroad ties which explains how such a small party could get aboard but other than that, it’s just deserted forest. The coal man and engineer must be tied up in the locomotive. An impressive feat for five men, let alone an aging cowboy and a teenage girl. 

“Keep moving,” the outlaw says and leads you away. 

He whistles uncommonly loud and two saddled horses— one the color of whiskey, the other nearly black— trot out of the tree line. 

A gun’s report echoes from the train. 

“Shit!” You duck. Brown and a Marshall stand on the caboose, aiming in your direction. 

The outlaw returns fire. A direct hit. He strikes the Marshall in the chest and his body topples over the rail onto the tracks with a great thud. 

“Come on!” The kid calls from the saddle of the brown horse. She’s got her hand out to you. 

You pull yourself onto its back behind her as more bullets whizz by. The kid shoots without taking time to aim. Her shots ping off the metal train car and Brown takes cover long enough for her partner to mount his horse. 

“Giddy up, Shimmer!” She kicks the horse and you’re carried off down the tracks, back west. 

The gunshots quiet and eventually stop and soon the train has disappeared from view when you’re around that bend. The horses take you off the gravel shoulder of the train tracks and into the trees, hooves picking carefully through the brush. They don’t stop until dusk is falling, miles away from where you started. Their hideout is a cave along the banks of a deep river. 

The kid hops out of the saddle south a celebratory holler and pulls the mask off to reveal delicate features removing her hat allows a long braid to tumble down her back. So you were right, that was a girl under there. 

“You see that shooting back there?” she asks her partner. 

He gives a gruff kind of chuckle but says no more. 

For the first time in days your whole body relaxes and you can’t help but giggle to yourself. You made it. 

“I’m Ellie,” the kid says after you’ve got your feet on the ground.“This here is Joel Miller.”

You’ve heard the name. The man notorious for robbing stagecoaches, banks, and trains stands before you. He tugs down his bandana revealing patchy stubble and a full set of lips that look like they’ve never seen a smile. It might be that he just saved your life but you can’t help but find him handsome. He’s rugged and square jawed, his neck dotted with beads of sweat. 

“As I live and breathe. I suppose I owe you one,” you say. 

You put out a hand for him to shake but instead your wrist is clamped in iron. He’s locked a handcuff around you. 

“God damn it!” you snap. You yank your arm back but he holds the other cuff in his fist. 

“Joel! What the hell?” Ellie says. 

He fixes his own wrist in the other cuff. You’re locked together with only about a foot of chain separating the two of you. 

“If you’re worth $10,000 I don’t need you wandering off on me,” he says and tugs back. 

All of the good will in you evaporates and you feel fire rise in your gut. You’ve never expected honor amongst thieves but this is more than treacherous. 

“You son of a bitch. You’d turn me into the law? I bet there’s a bounty on your head three times the size,”you gripe. 

“Four,” he tells you. 

Your face is hot and you’re ready to fight but Joel Miller isn’t just some city detective. 

“You’re a wanted man. How do you figure you can just waltz into the sheriff and ask for the reward?”

“You don’t worry about that, missy,” he says. 

The little moniker makes you want to slap him right in the face. 

“Joel, no,” Ellie says, features painted with disgust. 

“Don’t start with me,” he warns her. 

“We don’t need the money,” she protests. 

“Ellie.”

“Fuck you, you ugly lily-livered bastard!” you say. 

“Hey!” he barks, pulling the chain taught. “Listen here, missy. That handbill said ‘dead or alive.’ If you can’t be quiet, ain’t nothing stopping me from putting a bullet in ya.” 

His words send a shiver down your spine. There’s no reason for you to believe that’s an empty threat. Angry tears brim in your eyes but you’ll be damned if he sees you cry. You’re capable of violence, too, but unarmed, outnumbered, and imprisoned, you’ve got no choice but to shut up. 

You don’t go down easy, though. You spit at the ground between you and the frothy wad of saliva lands on Joel’s boot, then slips into the dirt. His nostrils flare and for a second you think he’s got mind to put you over his knee. You stand your ground, glaring into his dark eyes. 

There’s a twitch in his jaw and Joel turns away, working at the strap on his saddle, taking you with him. 

“Ellie, get that fire going,” he orders. “We’ll ride to the Boot tomorrow. Lay low for a week. Then we’ll go to Jackson and deal with her.” He nods at you. 

“You serious?” Ellie asks. She looks at you with apology in her expression. 

Joel tosses her the reins and she sighs. He shoves his saddle bags into your arms. 

“Make yourself useful,” he says. 

Your mind is already working again. You made it off of a moving train, you’ll find a way out of this new predicament. You’ve got one week to slip out of Joel Miller’s clutches. 

Chapter 2 - Series Masterlist

Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Asks always open and I don't bite (much).

[whitepolaris]

Old Wyoming State Penitentary

by Scott A. Johnson

Imagine yourself confined to a room five feet by seven feet with only a bare cot and toilet. Down the hallway, terrified screams and sadistic laughter echo throughout the night, reminding you that you live in what may be as well be described as one of Dante's lower circles of hell. You'll be all right, you tell yourself, so long as you keep to your tasks and don't make eye contact with anyone who lives nearby.

Now imagine that same room shared with up to five other men-a prison cell in every breath drawn might be the last and every setting heralds new terrors that come in the night.

A New but Fearful Facility

By 1873, the prison in Laramie, Wyoming, was bulging at the seams. Home to convicts from the surrounding areas, it could no longer accept new inmates, yet the stream of new arrivals never let up. The state government decided a new prison was needed, one that could accommodate the high number of miscreants who roamed Idaho at the time. Construction of what would be an enormous structure began in 1888. It took thirteen years, but on December 12, 1901, the Wyoming State Penitentiary in Rawlins opened its doors. The incarcerated were to be assigned meaningful duties that would not only put money in the coffers of both the prison and the state but would also in the prisoners the seed of a work ethic. Over the years, the prisoners manufactured brooms, shirts, and proceesed wool, when they weren't stamping out license plates.

Despite the state's good intentions, the new facility had tiny cells without running water or toilets, and their bare concrete walls bred more than a sense of punishment. They bred madness. Fights were common, as were stabbings and near riots. In just three years, the penitentiary saw several bloody battles between prisoners, one of which involved a prisoner attempting to cut another's heart out. The terrified guards, who sometimes felt themselves the real prisoners, often did nothing.

Such violence could only be tolerated for so long, prompting the construction of "the Hole" in 1906. Being confined to this windowless room was the punishment for anything from refusing to eat dinner to murder. The guilty were chained to a wall in the room and left in total darkness. During their stay, they were attended to only briefly and were fed miniscule amounts of bread and water.

It wasn't until 1914, years after the prison had already come dangerously close to its capacity, that the penitentiary cells were equipped with toilets, washbowls, and running water-cold only, however.

After several escape attempts by inmates, high concrete walls replaced the wooden stockades surrounding the prison buildings in 1915. The convicts were pressed into service to erect the walls and guard towers, partially to make them aware that escaping would be impossible.

Rough Justice

Executions were commonplace, either by hanging or by gas, but it wasn't just the state that meted out capital punishment. Prison guards often enforced their own bran of justice or simply turned a blind eye to prisoner-devised hangings. In one case, the person hanged didn't die immediately, prompting his executioners to haul hi up by the rope and toss him over the rail for a second time.

By the late 1970s, tales of abuse and overcrowding reached the state. Stories involving the horrors of the Hole and other tortures, including thumb cuffs and the insidious Oregon Boot (a heavily weighted steel shoe), reached the proper ears, prompting an investigation. In 1981, the Wyoming State Penitentiary closed its doors for good, leaving decades of abuse and agony behind.

It is impossible to identify the restless souls that never left what's called the Old Pen; they're simply too numerous. What is clear, however, is that in my places whatever remains is angry and resentful-and not at all shy about showing its feelings.

Tour guides and tourists alike have reported seeing shadowy figures disappearing around corners and malicious presences throughout the structure. There are, however, a few places deemed hotbeds of activity. The showers, were countless inmates were attacked, violated, or even killed, are the setting of many a story. Also on the list of places to be avoided are the former Death Row and the gas chamber.

However, most agree that the worst hauntings occur in the black pit called the Hole. Whatever lurks there, according to those whose job it is to walk the halls, is angry and crazed, threatening anyone who enters. There are also specific cells in which voices are heard and presences felt. Also well known is Guard Tower No. 9, in which a guard committed suicide.

The buildings stand as they did, with cell walls still bearing the markings and artwork of those who occupied them. Death Row cells are adorned with photos of those prisoners who spent their last moments inside. The old prison cemetery is visible on the grounds, and many of the tombstones lie broken or stand propped against a fence.

In other words, the prison looks no less ominous for the lack of new prisoners. Time will tell whether the awful energy generated within its walls is here to stay.

[vault-heck]

For the uncommon asks: 1, 4, 28, 29, 40, C, & J for Noah & Poe?

Oh fun, thanks for asking!!

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Noah: depends upon how tired he is. Anywhere from 10-20 minutes without feeling too bad.

Poe: .05 seconds.

How easy is it to earn their trust?

Noah: probably easier than it should be; he's pretty good at asking innocuous questions that get him the answers he really wants, though.

Poe: In Delano and the wasteland, difficult difficult lemon difficult. In Riverside, they're a little guarded, but much less so. Once you've won them over you have a friend for life.

Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

Neither of them would prefer this, but Poe is slightly more likely to ignore an unpleasant truth for as long as they can.

Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 

Noah: on a good day. He's got some work to do, though.

Poe: actually, yeah! Life as an artist/gig employee/scavenger isn't easy, and their family makes it even harder, but they make it work.

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Noah: extremely, but less so as his story progresses. Someone get this man an adhd diagnosis. Right out of the vault he could literally only see his flaws and weaknesses-- generally, his focus on what he could do better tends to keep him from acting in areas of strength, when he really should.

Poe: not terribly. They have a tendency to make self-deprecating jokes, but are generally aware of their flaws and only spend time thinking about them if there's something actionable they can do to fix it. They used to be pretty self conscious about their artistic shortcomings, but sheer time and experience has helped them become more confident in this area especially.

Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

Noah took forever to develop. I had a vague concept before I started writing the first draft of Wildfire, and his personality/trauma/etc really took shape as I was writing. It took some time to hammer out exactly what I wanted to change about canon, and why. I feel pretty good about where he's at in the later chapters of that draft, and the rewrite especially!

Poe, I'm still working on a few nuances to their internal conflict and family dynamic. But overall, no, this was easy. Without him, there would be no Sunflower Protocol story; in a way, it's really about them even though it's written from Laramie's POV. When I conceptualized him it was almost like meeting a real person all at once, very vivid and niche, as opposed to having to pry for months to figure Noah out for example.

[barkskins]

it was a dream come true. it was something that colt could only have only imagined. the first time he had mentioned laramie to clay, the blonde had rolled his eyes and told his brother to 'tug on the other one'. he couldn't quite believe that the rugged man of the earth had found his own princess, a woman that he had vowed to make her queen. he was hardly a king himself—he had no castle, no subjects, and could barely string a sentence together, let alone dictate a royal decree—but he was hers as long as she was his. “a garden? you want a garden?” the cowboy questioned, as he leaned over and pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of her raven hair. “if that’s what you want, then that’s what you’re gettin’. a real garden. the garden of fuckin’ eden if that’s what you want. with trees an’… all the rest of it.” one hand broke from the wheel once again in a waving gesture; colt wasn’t one that had focused on the pretty things in his life, not until he had found himself face to face with laramie hannigan. he wasn’t sure of all the intricacies of a real garden, a proper garden, one with roses and sprawling beds of flowers, maple trees and cherry bark. regardless, he would uproot the entire world if it brought a smile to her face. “well, i gotta tell my brother that he’s gonna have the place all to himself. i don’t know how he’ll take it. i reckon he’s been itchin’ to get shot of me for decades. might finally push him to get a lady of his own.” maybe one of those pretty golden girls, or some leopard-print cougar at the bar who had indulged in one too many whiskeys.

"colt!" laramie laughed, leaning over the seat to nudge his attention back to the road, the sound rolling behind them as he corrected himself. "goodness, baby, we have to live if we are going to make dreams and then make them all come true." she teased as she sat back, heart still thundering in her chest. it was the girly that got her every goddamn time. sometimes she didn't even know how to handle the electric shock it sent to her chest, bolts filled with love and adoration and the term of endearment. "you mean it?" laramie's expression shifts, she only considered doubt for half a beat, but his excitement and proclamations are more than enough to make her feel silly for being worried he might reject the idea in the first place. "then it's settled." she can't imagine a world were she would feel complete, feel any sense of normalcy if he wasn't in her life. when they first ran into each other, when they first stumbled into each other's lives, it felt like serendipity, a fluke, chance. each moment that followed convinced her that she'd been wrong since the start. they'd met on a path neither had seen coming, but both had been following until the path merged into one they would walk side by side forever. fate. destiny. anything but a chance encounter. "a garden. if we're going to talk about a dream house, i think i've always wanted a proper garden." she hummed happily, letting herself rest against colt.

[simptasia]

god, i’m so proud of my people, our people, the LGBTPA+ community

for every fight, every hardship, for every moment of support. for all the things that had to be done before me, to ensure my generation could be safer... or happier... or have more rights. and i know it’s not all better now. i know there’s still more to do, more to overcome. but so much has been acomplished so far

and i’m so fucking proud

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Okay I fully haven’t read a klaine fic in so long but I just remembered one that I read like five years ago where k think it was set in like the 40s or 50s and I think Blaine went on a roadtrip or something and stumbled upon Kurt who was this like artist hippie who lived in the middle of no where and at the end I think one of them gets drafted into a war???? And maybe dies??? Idk it’s been years. Plz help

I think you are looking for this fic, although you got the roles reversed. Kurt is the soldier and Blaine is the hippie. I'm also listing a fic currently being posted by @gleekto that has similar vibes. - HKVoyage

When The Night Falls On You by moonshoesangel [PDF] [EPUB]

In 1949 in Laramie, TN, Blaine Anderson, a precocious six year old, meets a new friend named Kurt Hummel. They grow to realize they may have feelings for each other and hide it from the world, but Blaine’s father discovers their secret. By their mid-20’s, they find each other as a soldier and an outspoken hippie. Can they reconnect and rekindle those hidden feelings for each other?

~~~~~

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You by @gleekto (active WIP)

Blaine is a gay. He’s known for years and he’s not ashamed. He just wants to be sensible about it as it carries a lot of risks. So he chooses to study Arts at one of the best colleges in the country - Columbia - that makes his parents happy. And it also happens to have the first college sanctioned gay group in the country - the Student Homophile League - for people like him. And that makes him happy. He hopes. He just has to muster up the courage to actually go to one of the League meetings. Instead he wastes his time staring at that icy hippie in his music history class who doesn’t know he exists. He needs to stop pretending people are gay in his head and actually meet some real homosexuals.

Blaine coming of age in 1969. Hippie!Kurt. Elliott and Sebastian as Blaine’s mentor-friends. Unironic use of ‘groovy’. Coming out and fitting in and falling in love.

[ETA] Thank you @coffeegleek for identifying another one. This might be it!

Gimme Shelter by Kurtswish

On a joyride out with friends, Blaine stumbles upon a man that would change his life forever. It is a time when changes are coming swiftly with Civil Rights laws and Vietnam on the forefront of everyone's minds. Finding each other and romance should have been the hard part, but what will two young men endure in the time of free love and war. Story is complete.

[kwebtv]

TV Guide -  January 27 - February 2, 1962

Myrna Fahey (March 12, 1933 – May 6, 1973)  Actress known for her role as Maria Crespo in Walt Disney's Zorro.  

She appeared in episodes of 37 television series from the 1950s into the 1970s, including Bonanza, Wagon Train, The Time Tunnel with Robert Colbert, Maverick with James Garner, 77 Sunset Strip with Efrem Zimbalist Jr., Laramie, Gunsmoke with James Arness, The Adventures of Superman with George Reeves, Kraft Suspense Theatre, Daniel Boone with Fess Parker, Perry Mason with Raymond Burr, and Batman with Adam West and Burt Ward.

She served as one of the fashion model hostesses on Queen for a Day and did photo shoots and general publicity events for the station's advertisers and other programs. Her first real acting job was for a television anthology series, Cavalcade of America, appearing on episode "Margin for Victory".

With the beginning of 1957 Myrna had a steady stream of film and television work, though her roles in the former were still small and uncredited. She moved from Burbank to a large apartment in Beverly Hills that she shared with her mother.

Matinee Theater, an anthology series that presented a new hour-long movie every afternoon, was her mainstay for television work at this time. She did many of these live original productions during 1957, though the titles of some are no longer known.

Fahey complained in a 1960 interview that she was being typecast in "good girl" roles because of what directors called her "moral overtones," even though she wanted to play darker and more complicated characters. She had worked in many Westerns in the late 1950s, usually in the role of the sheriff's daughter, including an appearance on Gunsmoke in 1958 (an episode entitled: "Innocent Broad"). She also appeared in a supporting role in "Duel at Sundown", a notable episode of Maverick with James Garner, featuring Clint Eastwood as a trigger-happy villain. In another appearance in ‘‘Maverick’’ she starred as Dee Cooper, the owner of a cattle ranch, in conflict with Maverick’s herd of sheep. She starred in two episodes of Wagon Train, "The Jane Hawkins Story" (1960) and "The Melanie Craig Story" (1964), and an episode of Straightaway, "Troubleshooter," in 1961. Her image branched out in the 1960s, helped by House of Usher and a role on the Boris Karloff TV series Thriller that same year entitled "Girl with a Secret". Even her Western parts became "darker." After a rough love scene in the 1960 episode of Bonanza "Breed of Violence", in which she cut her lip, the cast presented her with an award for "Best Slapper in a Filmed Series".

Fahey's most sustained television work was a starring role in the one-season (1961–62) series Father of the Bride, based on a film of the same name starring Spencer Tracy and Elizabeth Taylor. She also portrayed Jennifer Ivers on the TV version of Peyton Place.

Fahey made four guest appearances on the drama series Perry Mason: Lydia Logan in the 1960 episode, "The Case of the Nimble Nephew"; defendant Grace Halley in the 1961 episode "The Case of the Violent Vest"; murder victim Myrna Warren in the 1965 episode "The Case of the Gambling Lady"; and defendant Holly Andrews in the 1966 episode "The Case of the Midnight Howler". In 1966, she played Blaze in the Batman episodes "True or False-Face" and "Holy Rat Race".  (Wikipedia)