#Young Gun Silver Fox

[fuchinobe]

Ticket to Shangri​-​La (2022, Légère Recordings, LEGO 264-VL)

Bandcamp

[travelersrest]

🪽🩷🪽

[hollyweirdangeleno]

[tomodachi-to-koibito]

my official anthem for fall of 2022

[sortyourlifeoutmate]

I know this video is all "Ha ha bowling funny" but the song is genuinely great.

[michelristenpattsworld]

Young Gun Silver Fox- Tip of the Flame

[songspiral]

"Winners" by Young Gun Silver Fox

[visionsofcarnality]

can we get headcanons for gilf!Joel maybe? his slicked back hair in tlou ep3 stirred something in me 🥵🥵🥵

i like the way you think…

Silver Fox ! Joel Miller Headcanons NSFW!!

Traditional old man in every sense of the word, he doesn’t make cheesy comments when you grab a door handle but he does give you a scolding little glare that totally doesn’t light a fire in your panties.

Self conscious about his somewhat saggy skin around his chest, middle, and extremities even after you’ve assured him until you’re blue in the face. You do help him though. Watching how attracted you are to his body even aged as it is definitely strokes his ego.

Has an online refillable prescription for Viagra that gets delivered to his apartment, and when he takes it he becomes an absolute fiend.

Usually without the Viagra he still is able to throughly satisfy you with ages of foreplay and a nice thorough fucking, leaving you both satisfied after one climactic round.

But when he takes Viagra-

You better clear your schedule and invest in a massage gun for your legs afterwards because you are going to be SORE.

I’m talking several positions, screaming until your throat hurts, your pussy feeling raw and used, daylong marathon sex.

Joel doesn’t seem to soften even a fraction until your body is wailing in protest and you can’t feel your thighs anymore.

You don’t think he could possibly have any more left in him until he’s once again emptying his heavy, full balls into your cunt; adding to the previous loads from the past six rounds he’s already shot into your body.

When he’s not fucking you stupid with the assistance of his little blue pills, he’s treating you like the princess you’d expect he would.

Don’t even think about carrying your own groceries, what are you, crazy?

Speaking of groceries…

If you aren’t living together yet best believe he’s on your doorstep every Sunday at 11AM with a truck full of groceries, dropping them off after church let’s out and he’s free to go to the store.

He makes you sit and continue sipping your coffee/tea while he puts them away, simultaneously checking the sell-by dates of everything in your fridge and pantry like a man obsessed.

Like a true old fashioned southern boy, he won’t tell you he’s in love with you. But he will point out the amount of things expired in your house.

“Come on, now. You’re gonna get sick, this is ridiculous-“ As if he hasn’t brought you your favorite brand of cereal and all your preferred snacks. Even all those “Shitty, organic, cardboard crap” things you love.

Never had a good plate of grits? He’s making them meticulously for you the morning after a hookup. “Eat, you need it. That stuff’ll keep you goin’ all day.”

Is all too supportive of your flimsy little sundresses. The gauzy fabric floating around your legs like a visualization of your perfume, nearly beckoning him closer. Even when you’re looking like a good little church girl in your soft, flowy dresses… all he can think about is how easy it would be to bend you over and have his way with you.

Which he does the second he brings you home from his cousin’s cookout in the suburbs.

Did I mention that he got a vasectomy after his divorce? Still, seeing you with his now adult daughter makes him daydream about getting you pregnant.

Which he finds insane… He doesn’t want any more kids, he physically can’t have any more kids… But the only thing he can think about right now is burying his cum in your pussy and keeping you pampered in his house with your belly full of his babies.

That vasectomy won’t stop him from trying his damndest, though. Especially after Sarah (who he had young) has her first baby and he watches you hold the six month old infant for the first time.

This man is a GENTLEMAN in the most old fashioned sense of the word.

Like, I cannot stress that enough.

If you’re an independent person, prepare to be thoroughly pampered.

His old fashioned chivalrous ways may be frustrating sometimes but it really does come from a place of just wanting to show his love.

Like when he insists on driving you everywhere whenever you go places together, or when he always finds a way to move you to the side of his body furthest away from the sidewalk when you walk, or when he automatically picks up your purse when you meet so that he can carry it for you.

But you forget all about those minor annoyances when he bends you over your kitchen table and pounds you into next week, muttering nonsense about how you’re too young for him or how you’re such a dirty girl for wanting him and his old man cock.

You moan his name when he grips both your hips in a tight but loving hold, all too willing to forgive him for his incessant door opening when you’re all dumbed down on his cock, the cock which is now way too hard and blood filled because he definitely popped one of your favorite blue pills a while ago.

But much like the gentleman he is, after he fucks you into a blissed-out stupor, he carries you to the bed and wipes your spent pussy clean, cuddling you into the mattress and running his hands through your hair while you both come down from your highs.

When he does get insecure about the age difference between you, all you can do is kiss his leathery, stubbled cheek and wrap your arms around him… Convincing him with your actions instead of words that his age is only a factor in your attraction to him… And that you love him for what makes him him.

this post got way too long but NONNIE I HOPE I DID YOU JUSTICE!!

[wannaeatramyeon]

Could you please make another unhinged reader piece but this time with her going against Charles Choi? (I really love the one you did on Vin Jin!!)

Anon, so so sorry for the delay and tysm for reading! I've been putting off Charles in the first place cos it just seems big y'know?

Unhinged F!Reader links here (or check masterlist): Gun Park | Goo Kim | Samuel Seo | Samuel Seo Part 2 | James Lee/DG | Jinyoung Park | Eli Jang | Tom Lee | Ryuhei Kuroda | Eugene | Vin Jin

Charles Choi with Unhinged F!Reader

"Huh," Charles wonders, "Why do I hear final boss battle music?"

How long has it been since Charles has felt this?

An overwhelming, crushing helplessness.

To think his downfall would come from a nobody. Somebody so insignificant that their existence was completely unknown to him.

An easy, fatal mistake.

"Elite?" the sound of your mocking tone reaches his ears despite the blood trickling out. "Elite compared to what?"

Silly boys and their silly nicknames. They're all the same. Elite, Big Daddy, Rabid Attack Dog, the Legend.

Compensating much? Pathetic.

Some little boys just never grow up, having tasted an ounce of power and thought that was all there was. Such big fishes in a tiny putrid swamp.

Your fingers scrape along Charles' once carefully groomed beard, now smeared with blood and spittle.

"What a silver fox. Guess that's a benefit of you being so past your prime."

The words should hurt, but Charles can face reality. He's no longer the young man he once was. Not sure he would even be a worthy opponent for you if he was.

How strange that in these moments it is Gapryong that he thinks about. How he wasn't really a worthy opponent for Gapryong neither, needing to secure his way to the top with underhanded dealings and James Lee.

Charles drifts in and out, thinking about the Pre-Generation, about Tom Lee and Jinyoung Park.

About how nobody has warned him about you, how he didn't see you coming until it was too late. Swaggering towards him in a deserted street with soulless eyes and a chilling grin.

"Charles Choi?" you had asked, tucking away a slip of paper into your breast pocket, "Or should that be... Elite?"

And that was the beginning of the end.

Or maybe it was the beginning of the end years ago, and now his chickens are coming home to roost.

Charles felt your first lethal attack before he could see it, remaining arm snapping and the heat of blood gushing and pouring out. Voice screaming on reflex before he could register it was his own.

Now, even with you easily in touching distance, Charles can't bring himself to move. He has nothing left to give. And was there ever a time he ever felt truly depleted? Not trying to brute force or scheme his way to the very end?

All fight has left him now.

In his delirium, words escape and leak unhindered under his breath. Some names that ring a bell with you.

You chuckle. "Tom Lee? Jinyoung Park? Oops, I got to them too."

Then you lean down, closing the gap between your bodies, lips ghosting over his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"Gapryong Kim though? I heard you got to him years before I could." You look Charles square in the eye, your words landing and his eyes widen in panic.

His final secret out.

With that you throw your head back laughing, uproariously and deranged. That is what he's worrying about now? What a wretched man.

"I'll give you anything you want," Charles pleads.

Your laughter abruptly stops and replaced with a scathing look. How fucking predictable. Ugh. This whole thing is starting to bore you.

"I've heard it all from that that twink already. Eugene or something. It didn't end well for him."

"Maybe," you think outloud, examining your hands caked almost completely in red, not remembering if you actually painted your nails that colour or if that is Charles' blood too-

"I want your other arm."

"...I see." are his final words to you, recognising any further pleas will fall on deaf ears. Tone calm yet all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.

The last thing Charles see before he closes his eyes is the quirk of your lips and bloodlust etched all over your face.

In the darkness, he waits for you to decide his fate and for his empire to crumble.

[fuchinobe]

Ticket to Shangri​-​La (2022, Légère Recordings, LEGO 264-VL) 

Bandcamp

[cantsayidont]

August 1989. The first chapter of Tim Truman's three-issue HAWKWORLD miniseries wastes no time in presenting its thesis statement. On the planet Thanagar, a young aristocrat Katar Hol, just out of military academy and not yet Hawkman, joins his world's paramilitary police force, the Wingmen, and quickly learns what the Wingmen really do: brutal raids into the slums of Downside, Thanagar's overcrowded ghetto — ostensibly to prevent insurrection and root out caches of weapons and other contraband, but really to maintain a climate of terror for an already oppressed population of conquered beings from many worlds. As Katar is already beginning to suspect here, his cynical commander, Byth (the one speaking, above), is actually running guns and drugs to Downside, and takes advantage of these raids to rid himself of rivals and no-longer-useful accomplices, lining his own pockets while perpetuating the social inequity and exploitation on which Thanagarian society depends.

Many elements of this miniseries are drawn from the Gardner Fox Hawkman stories of the Silver Age: Byth was the the villain in the first Silver Age Hawkman story in THE BRAVE AND THE BOLD #34, a statue of Kalmoran was seen briefly in BRAVE AND THE BOLD #43, and Illoral was a world the Hawks visited in HAWKMAN #6 in 1965. Truman (who originally intended HAWKWORLD to be a direct prequel to the Fox/Kubert stories) frames those elements in a new context, giving them much greater thematic weight.

HAWKWORLD sold well, thanks in no small part to the magnificently realized artwork, by Truman and Argentinian artist Quique Alcatena (with superb color by Sam Parsons), but it drew some criticism for the darkness of the story and its ugly portrayal of a militarized Thanagar. The reality is that Thanagar had been presented as a fascist dictatorship for about a decade by this point, something that the previous version of Katar Hol had eventually accepted and even endorsed so long as it didn't directly threaten Earth. What Truman did was to remove the pretense that Thanagar hadn't been that way to begin with, and thus reassess Katar's relationship with that brutal imperial state — whose resemblance to our world was in no way coincidental. The story (which puts Katar through the wringer in every respect) ends more or less where BRAVE AND THE BOLD #34 begins, so the full ramifications of Truman's reframing of Hawkman's origin would play out in the first 26 issues of the ongoing HAWKWORLD series by John Ostrander and Graham Nolan between 1990 and 1992.

[kwebtv]

TV Guide -  August 3 - 9, 1963

Moritz "Morey" Amsterdam (December 14, 1908 – October 28, 1996) was an American actor, comedian, writer and producer. He played Buddy Sorrell on CBS's The Dick Van Dyke Show from 1961 to 1966.  

The Morey Amsterdam Show aired on CBS radio from July 10, 1948, to February 15, 1949. For three months, it was on both radio and television with different scripts for the same premise and cast.

In 1950, he briefly hosted the comedy-variety show Broadway Open House, TV's first late-night entertainment show, on NBC. One of the pioneering TV creations of NBC president Pat Weaver, it demonstrated the potential for late-night programming and led to the later development of The Tonight Show.

In February 1952, Amsterdam made his dramatic TV debut on an episode of the DuMont Television Network series Not for Publication. Also in 1952, he was host of Breakfast With Music, a 9 a.m. Monday-Friday program on WNBT-TV in New York City.

In 1958, he appeared as saloon manager Lucien Bellingham in an episode of the CBS western series Have Gun, Will Travel entitled "The Moor's Revenge". He later guest-starred on the CBS sitcom Pete and Gladys, with Harry Morgan and Cara Williams.

Other TV series he appeared in were The Gale Storm Show: Oh! Susanna,  December Bride, The O. Henry Playhouse, How to Marry a Millionaire,  Matinee Theatre, The Danny Thomas Show, The Adventures of Jim Bowie,  Gunsmoke, Schlitz Playhouse, Dragnet, The Phil Silvers Show, The Further Adventures of Ellery Queen, Daktari, The Hollywood Squares, That's Life, Love, American Style, The Partridge Family, Alice, Vega$, The Love Boat, Project U.F.O.,  Fantasy Island, Hail to the Chief, Brothers, Crazy Like a Fox, The Young and the Restless, 1st & Ten, Herman's Head, Cybill and Caroline in the City.  (Wikipedia)

Richard Deacon (May 14, 1921 – August 8, 1984) Television and motion picture actor, best known for playing supporting roles in television shows such as The Dick Van Dyke Show, Leave It To Beaver, and The Jack Benny Program

His best-known roles are milksop Mel Cooley (producer of “The Alan Brady Show”) on CBS’s The Dick Van Dyke Show (1961–1966) and Fred Rutherford on Leave It to Beaver (1957–1963).  (Wikipedia)

[shebeafancyflapjack]

The Dark Forest

Follow up to The Devil Within. Mary has a talk with Silver (my oc).

Tw: mention of eating disorders and self-harm.

Covering their ears did little to soften the boom from the shotgun blast.

"Damn! Missed the little blighter." Tutted the old man in his tweed coat, a pair of protective ear muffs over his head.

Silver looked up and breathed a sigh of relief as the pheasant shook off the few pellets it had caught from the spread before flying towards the wood.

"Yeah, get away, go on." She was cheering for one side here and it wasn't the rich pricks. "Artemis, protect you."

"Who be Artemis?" Asked the woman at her side.

Silver felt a glow in her chest that she always got whenever someone asked about her deities.

"She's the Goddess of the hunt. And animals and children, nature. She's my favourite." Silver bit her lip afterwards, realising she should have phrased that different so as not to offend the others in her pantheon.

"Oh. But if she a goddess of hunt, won't she bes on the side of them with the muskets?"

The young woman scoffed; "Nah. She only supports true hunters. Those who had to kill for survival. These dickheads? They're just doing this for fun and because they can afford to miss. They could go down Waitrose and buy a turkey without it making a dent in their budget."

And it wasn't even as if they were helping to cull the birds, the only reason Heather had a license was for her Tory friends to come enjoy themselves with their blood sport. Silver was just grateful she hadn't been dead when fox hunting had still been practiced here, which Julian claimed to mourn.

Another bird flew overhead and the posh twat from next door fired his gun. Silver and Mary both covered their ears and flinched as the noise shook the earth. The creature plummeted to the ground, its spirit instantly floating up in a golden shimmer.

"Lucky beast." Mary huffed. She touched Silver's arm; "You sure you donts wanna go be with the others? They be on the other side of the land, near the lake. The poet don't like to be near gunshots so they keeps away."

Silver shook her head; "Kinda feel like I need to be here for the ones that die, you know? In case they don't go up? I know it's silly, they're only birds, but no-one should die alone."

Mary's heart gave a flutter at the girl's compassion.

"You is so much like Robin. No wonder he be smitten with you."

Silver's eyes widened, filling with unease.

"Oh noes, I don't mean in that way, darlin'!" Mary chuckled, touching her shoulder; "In a chaste and innocent manner. I thinks you be his Are-Demist."

"Artemis." That reassured her a little, though she's not sure how she felt being the focus of anyone's devotion. It felt like a lot to live up. She much preferred being the devotee, for as much as she appreciated Robin's care.

The flock seemed to be heading on, aware they weren't safe. The men packed up their gear and began to move further along the fence.

Silver and Mary walked a good distance behind.

"Have you eaten pheasant? Is it even that good?" She asked the older woman.

"It be very gamey but all depends on the seasoning. I used to love tending to my herb garden, oh all the housewives would come asking for basil and rosemary." Mary gushed at the memory; "Yous can make any meat tasty with the right seasoning. Even rat."

"Rat?!"

"Mmm. Times got hard, livestock died in harsh winters." Mary said, matter of fact; "Many a time it came down to a choice between a rat or the cow. And we needs the cow to be alive long as possible."

Made sense, Silver concluded. She supposed meat was meat at the end of the day.

"I'd been trying to go vegetarian before I died." She confessed.

"Oh, there were no such option for that in my days." Mary laughed, not unkindly; "Not enough fruit and veg to go around and if you didn't eat your protein, wells, you may as well have been kissing someone with the plague. No wonder you be such a skinny thing, if you be my daughter, I'd have had you eating five plump rats a day at least."

It took her a few steps to realise that Silver had stopped. She turned and regarded the girl who seemed wounded by her words, her brow furrowed, one hand clutching at her arm.

Mary's stomach twisted with guilt.

"Oh! Oh, I dids not mean to cause offense, little'en." She tried to assure; "S'just I sees the young maidens like yourself today, the 'super models' that these menfolk do bring with them to the mistress' functions. They be but skin and bone and at first I thinks their men be starving them but no! Julian say it be the fashion not to eat, even with more food than those in my time could dream of! I just don't understands it."

"Neither do I."

Mary tilted her head. It was easy to see that she'd struck a nerve for the child. She reached to take her hand, a gesture for her to open up to her if she needed to.

Silver did so, those calloused and well worked fingers folding over hers. She shrugged.

"I didn't care about looking thin. Everyone assumes it was about that." She admitted to the older woman, "But it really wasn't. After my dad died, and when I started getting bullied in school, I just...stopped eating. I dunno why but if I tried to force myself, I just threw it back up. I weren't bulimic, I didn't gorge myself. I just had no appetite. And I didn't even notice how skinny I was getting until I nearly fainted coming down the stairs."

"Oh..." Mary blinked.

"Mum didn't think it was anything psychological. She had her own shit going on. She just bought me a load of these disgusting protein milkshakes and made me chug them down breakfast and evening. They were vile...like liquefied expired beef." She made a show of sticking her tongue out. "I suppose it was her own way of caring about me..."

"You didn't try speaking to her? 'Bout your da? Or the bullies?"

Silver shrugged; "I didn't wanna worry her. Besides, you tell a grown up you're being bullied, they just tell you to ignore it. Not that simple.

"Hmm. Well I'd have said to give them a good wollopin'. That teach them not to mess with you."

"That's also not really allowed. And being skinny as a rake don't really help with the punching."

Mary nodded, she'd been a timid little thing herself, except for the moments she was pushed too far and would explode into a violent frenzy. Her own mother usually lashed her or let her be placed in the stocks on those times.

"Believe it or not, this is...was actually me on the mend. I never used to be brave enough to wear stuff like this when my ribs were poking out." She explained, waving her hands at her own stomach; "After I flunked out of college, I started getting into my Craft more and...I guess the gods became my therapists. They saved me, gave me something to focus on."

That didn't sound like the intentions of demons or false idols, Mary thought privately.

"How so?" She pried, wanting to show the child interest rather than doubt.

"There's this one goddess, Demeter. She rules over the earth, fertility and agriculture. She's also a fucking badass. When her daughter Persephone is kidnapped, she holds the world hostage and causes a famine until Zeus brings Persephone back to her." Silver explained, grinning with adoration; "Anyway, I just imagined Her giving me a telling off for not taking care of myself and accepting all She provides....I guess a bit like you."

"Me?" Mary frowned, fiddling with the laces on her bodice. "I wasn't meanin' to tell you off..." not harshly anyway.

Silver giggled; "I just meant that you showed you care, kinda like a..." She cuts herself off before saying the word; "Just. I dunno if you were a mum, but I can imagine you threatening to let the world rot to save one of your kids."

That deep, festering wound that never seemed to heal, after so many years, thrummed painfully inside her heart.

"Sorry, I...I didn't mean to..." Silver hesitated, catching her wince.

"It's fine, little'en. I did have children...Long time ago. And you be right." She would damn the whole world just to hold them again.

Silver looked down at her feet.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, love. Anything." She was happy to change the subject, to distract her from the past.

The young heathen took a breath; "Did Robin ask you to talk to me?"

"What? No! I means...He might've mentioned you wanted us to walk when you awoke but..."

"It's just that, last time you couldn't stand to be in the same room as me and now you're letting us share these really personal things with each other. I'm just...wondering what changed?"

It was a fair question. And not one that Mary thought she could ever be truly honest with the girl about. She would be right to run away in fear and never speak to her again, nor would the others once they heard the truth.

"It took me a couple of weeks but I came to realise it weren't you I be afraid of." She confessed, honestly. "Sometimes them dark thoughts in our head get worse when we don't have means to starve ourselves...or worse..."

She reached out to brush a finger against a scar she could spot on Silver's wrist. The girl tugged down her velvet covering and blushed.

"I managed to stop that a while back as well...." She mumbled and Mary felt a wave of sympathy.

"Is used to bang my head against the wall. My old man would wrap bandages around it, so heavy I coulds feel my neck strain. Other times I woulds bite the skin around my nails so my mother made me wear mittens, even in summer. I looked like a right daft wench." She shared.

Silver's eyes seemed to light up with the relief of someone else understanding her, of having been through a similar experience.

"I taught myself to give my arm a pinch instead when I felt the urge. I know we don't bleed as ghosts anymore, but it does help. Either that or I talk to my gods." She said.

"'Spose that no different to how I talk to Jesus?" Mary asked.

"Pretty much. You know I don't really worship the devil, right? I don't even believe he exists. I believe in Jesus though."

The older woman looked ready to gasp in joy; "You do?"

"Yeah. I just don't worship him. Same as all the other gods I think are real, but don't pray to. I mean he seems like a cool guy, I just....don't like the church. I mean look what they do to their own followers..." She gestured to Mary; "And trust me, even though they've stopped doing that, there's other stuff they do that's far worse."

"Oh...I be aware." She watched the news on the picture box, she wasn't completely ignorant. "But that not be what Christ wanted, of that I believe."

"I agree." Silver smiled.

"T'is nice to have someone to discuss faith with." Mary admitted; "Fanny be a Christian and we sometimes have discussions, but Is thinks she approves of the unkind things many do in His name. The others don't really pay God much mind, except Robin and his nature spirits."

"Like I said, my faith saved me. In a way. Helped pull me out of that pit I was in. And yeah I died young but....look where I am now." She laughed.

Mary gazed around at the small section of English countryside they were bound to.

"A field?"

"I don't mean the field." Silver laughed; "I mean...you lot. This house. The land too, I guess. I know it's not much and...it pains me to think of all that I'm gonna miss but...I dunno, I just. Feel free, you know?"

When the girl looks at her with that smile, she's reminded all too clearly of Annie. Annie placing her hands on her arms and telling her they be more free in death than in life.

"...Yeah. I knows, little'en." She grinned.

Another bang made them jump, Silver instinctively reaching for Mary's hand.

"Bad luck, Barclay." The chubbier man said to the shorter one who lived a mile down the path.

"Luck won't help you! You couldn't shoot the broad side of a bus, mate!" Silver barked at the old fool.

Mary released a chuckle as the two of them decided to swarm around the men.

"Your wife doth drink like a fish to make you look the least bit attractive, you weeping bubo!" She sneered in Barclay's ear.

"Those pheasants brains are twice the size of yours!" Silver added, the two of them creasing up into giggles.

This was fun, even if they couldn't hear her. It felt like a better release than any harm to her body could give just to scream at them how she really felt about these rich snobs.

Another close bang from the shotgun made them both recoil, but it was worth it. Silver wasn't sure if it was more enjoyable to throw her own insults or get to hear the timid, mild Mary unleash herself and let her imagination run wild with her own taunts and curses. Whichever it was, it kept them both laughing until the men retired back to Heather's living room for tea and scones, and Mary and Silver walked to the lake to check Thomas wasn't too traumatised by the shooting.

It seemed to come all too quick for that final night to arrive.

"You sure you wouldn'ts rather sleep in the house? There be plenty of room." Mary asked her, not having slept that night, feeling an urge to stay awake until Silver's monthly time awake was done.

"Honestly, I love the bed Robin picked. But thanks for the offer." Silver reassured; "It's not like I feel the cold or even the dirt, it's surprisingly comfy. At least, I seem to wake up refreshed and without any bedsores."

That was good, though this month and all the ones going forward, she would assist Robin in visiting the child's vigil and making sure she was resting comfortably.

The horrid memory of her fit and screaming on the new moon haunted her.

"These dreams you has. You says they always be pleasant?" Mary asked, curious if the girl had any awareness of her pain, or the succour Robin had provided.

"Yeah. I mean....It's hard to remember fully. I'm only really left with feelings afterwards. And mostly they're happy ones, but..." She struggled to explain; "They play out a bit like a story. Like a movie or game that I'm the main character of. And there's always a moment in the story where I'm...scared or hurt..."

Oh, dear. Mary held her breath. So she wasn't completely oblivious.

"But then it passes and...in a way, its nice because it makes the rest of my dreams feel even better, if that makes sense? I guess it's my own dark forest."

"Ey? You mean the whole forest be yours?" Mary frowned.

Silver laughed; "No, it's an expression I learned in my English literature class in college. All stories, no matter how light, need a moment of conflict or danger. It's there to make you appreciate the happy ending. Like..." She tried to think of an example; "Like Jesus being tortured and killed, it's a horrible thing but it's what makes him coming back so special right?"

Understanding flicked a switch in Mary's head; "I sees. And like your mother goddess, when she loses her baby girl, her cursing the world be a dark moment but makes their reunion so lovely?"

Silver nodded, grinning a little. To think she'd been so concerned about their clashing religions causing strife between them. But Mary had listened and understood her, as she'd shown respect to her.

"I get why Robin is so smitten with you. And yes, I do mean it THAT way." Silver raised her eyebrows, knowingly.

The very not innocent and chaste way. She did have eyes.

Mary blushed and batted her hand; "Hush up, you cheeky little heathen. You should be getting to bed. The birds be waking soon!"

"All right, all right." Silver looked down at her boots, sheepishly; "...Will you come visit me?"

"'Course I will." Every day, if able.

Silver nodded, gratefully.

"Moonah girl! You ready?!" A gruff voice shouted up to her from below.

She poked her head through the window; "Be down in a sec."

Silver walked up to Mary and touched her arm.

"Thanks...for the talk the other day. I'm glad we're not scared of each other anymore." She chuckled.

Each other? Mary's stomach dropped. The girl had been just as afraid of her?

Oh. Oh...

She pulled her into a hug. The child tensed at first before relaxing into it, wrapping her arms around the larger woman and sinking into her warmth. Just for a minute.

"You tells me all abouts your dreams when you wake. And then we can go cursing the menfolk together some more." Mary sighed, wondering if this was how the pagan goddess felt whenever her daughter did depart for the Underworld each autumn.

Silver nodded against her; "Sounds awesome."

And when the new moon comes, when the pale light can no longer grant the child rest, Mary will be there. She'll split shifts with Robin to cradle the young girl and sooth her head, to guide her through the dark forest and back into happier times.

[hbfmguy2]

Brave Fox and the Jake Black Gang, Part 4

Brave Fox picked herself up stiffly. The outlaw gang were getting away and there was nothing that she, warrior maiden of the Comanche, could do, it seemed, to prevent them. She felt sick with disappointment. At that moment however, there was a shout. The dazed young woman looked through blurred vision to see the unmistakable sight of Sheriff Will Patrick stride forward with a Winchester rifle clutched in his hand. The sheriff had always welcomed Brave Fox into Silver Creek and the Indian maiden knew him to be an honest and brave man. Sure enough he hailed Jake Black as the outlaw rode down Main Street. “You hold it right there, Black you skunk. You’re under arrest!” he called out, raising his rifle. Brave Fox watched in horror as the outlaw leader simply laughed through his mask, wheeled on his saddle and opened up with his six gun. “Eat lead, lawman!” the bad man snarled. Two bullets hit Sheriff Patrick in the chest, one entering his heart. Silently the would-be hero crumpled into the dust, his unfired rifle falling from his hands and blood spreading across his shirt.

Whooping in triumph like the former Confederate soldiers they were, Black and his gang hightailed it out of the town, leaving the dead sheriff in their wake. Brave Fox stood aghast looking after their dust cloud. Her eyes scanned Main Street, looking for help. It was virtually deserted. “Who will ride with me after these lawbreakers?” the Comanche brave cried out folornly.