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clairecrive · 4 years ago

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Let’s stay home| Quarantine AU

A/N: I know it’s been ages since I’ve updated this story, sorry guys. I don’t even know what this is but someone asked for Bronson so here it is. I’ve decided that I’m going to finish up and edit what I already have for this story, 4 or 5 chapters, and then end it. So, yeah. Anyways, hope you enjoy this!

Tag list: @evelynshelby, @mollybegger-blog, @br0ck-eddie, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @deaflikehawkeye, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner

Chapter 6 - “Bronson”

Emma was laying in her precious bathtub for some very much needed me time. Since lockdown started, she had found herself needed some kind of relief from dealing with this whole situation. Living together with the guys wasn’t proving to be too bad. She was actually happy that he had invited them over, if she had had to face this whole quarantine on her own she would have probably gone insane. Not that living with four men didn’t put her on edge but it was bearable. As long as she could carve out some time for herself, she would be fine. Sighing contently, she basked in being in the water while the comforting smell of lavender filled her nostrils. but of course, her peaceful moment was short-lived.

“Oi, have you drown in there or something?” Alfie’s voice and vigorous knock startled her and disrupted the moment.

“This is my self-care bath, Alfie. What do you want?” But she won’t give it up easily if she could help it.

“Yer what?”

“Stop shouting and get in Alfie. You’ll annoy the neighbours.” Keeping her eyes closed she tried her best to not get the vibe lost.

“Aren’t you naked?”

“I’m covered in bubbles, don’t worry. Not that you haven’t seen it already.” And as a matter of fact, she was covered in bubbles, her long hair covered her breasts and she gathered her knees close to her chest to prevent an embarrassing situation; but the truth was that Emma had always been comfortable with Alfie. Yes, even being half-naked in front of him when nothing sexual was happening didn't bother her. And since they had done this before, when Alfie sat on the toilet next to the tub, she didn’t feel embarrassed at all. He plopped down, groaning for his bad back and looked at her face.

“So what’s all this then?” His gruff tone made her smile lightly and even if she had her eyes closed she could imagine him gesturing at her questioningly.

“I told you, this is my self-care bath.” She repeated finally opening her eyes, finding him exactly as she foresaw.

“Didn’t know there were different kinds of baths.” He mumbled scratching his chin.

“This includes shaving and scrubs and other stuff that of course you wouldn’t know about.”

“Seems like you’re dolling up,” he pointed out looking at his feet but Emma could sense that there was something else he wanted to say so she waited, “is it ‘cause that guy is coming over?” and here it was. By now, Emma knew Alfie too well to not know when something was up. And yeah, the man was naturally grumpy but his behaviour these last few days was too much even for him. And knowing him, she should have known that he was going to eavesdrop her conversation with Bane.

“Did nobody tell you that it’s impolite to listen on to other people’s conversation?” She avoided his question and decided that it was better to make fun of him. His unruly beard could only cover so much of his face and luckily for her, it didn’t cover the redness of his cheeks.

“You were talking in the middle of the fucking sitting room, everyone heard you.” he scoffed.

“Well, that doesn’t explain why you’re so bothered by it though.” She promptly pointed out putting him on the spot.

“Who said I’m bothered?” He scoffed again but Emma could see right through him.

“You’ve been acting like a jealous boyfriend Alfie.” she pointed out even though she knew he’d never admit it.

“I ain’t.” He childishly muttered while crossing his arms on his chest.

“Sure you are. Now be a good boy and tell me why, will you?” She asked him patronizingly while adjusting her position in the tub so that she could better look at him.

“C’mon Alfie, you know that you can talk to me.” she insisted when he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just- I didn’t understand I was going to be stuck in a house with a bunch of your exes.” He complained

“None of you is my ex,” since Alfie gave her a look that called her on her bullshit so she continued, “Eddie is my best friend. He has an on-and-off relationship at the moment but there’s never been anything between us.”

“What about Tommy?”

“We’ve had sex but we were never together. Just like you and me.” Alfie flinched but Emma didn’t notice.

“So, yer supposed to spend a weekend of sex with him too?” He spat and Emma knew that he hadn’t liked her answer but couldn’t really understand why.

“We have never labelled our relationship as exclusive or official, Alfie.” Emma reckoned as a matter of factly.

“That’s not what I said, innit?”

“Well, then why I get the feeling that knowing about my sex life sets you off?”

“And Bane?”

“He’s one of my best buds too. Never seen him naked, unfortunately,” she mumbled the last part but Alfie did hear anyway and threw an ugly glare at her.

“Why are you so interested in my sex life anyway?” she asked raising an eyebrow

“I’m not. You can do whatever you want,” he said not taking into consideration how she could read him so easily. Dismissing her and their conversation, Alfie got up and went to get out of the bathroom.

“Wait, Alfie, what time is it?” her voice stopped him

“Almost 4, why?” He said checking the time on his watch.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m late,” momentarily forgetting about the man’s presence, Emma pulled the drain of the bath and started to get up.

“What? Have somewhere to be?” Was Alfie’s attempt at being funny.

“I have an interview in half an hour. Guess who I’m interviewing?” Ignoring his cheeky tone, Emma kept drying herself. She didn’t have time to spare.

“Some beauty blogger?” Again, another jab.

“Charlie Bronson, Alfie. I’m so excited,” but Emma was too hyped about this opportunity she had been given.

“Why are you excited to speak with England’s most violent prisoner?”

“Exactly for that very reason. I mean, I know nothing of psychology but he ought to make an interesting subject, don’t you think?” Now wrapped in a warm towel, she was ready to leave the bathroom.

“Be careful, Em,” Alfie called out behind her.

“You can assist if you want to,” She offered, knowing that he could sit in the interview and she could get away with it.

“Oh, I also have an appointment but thanks.” Not thinking anything about it, she simply waved at him and rushed to her room to get ready. The interview was in ten minutes.

So far, it was going good. Sure there had been some problem with her wifi, then with his but it was all part of the job, wasn’t it? Despite his menacing look and intimidating physique, Charlie Bronson was very talkative and friendly. Or maybe he just liked talking about himself and being under the spotlight.

“So, with this current situation, everyday life has changed for everyone. Has life in prison changed too?” Was your final question, the one you were most excited to ask.

“Well, visitors can’t come anymore and also police officers can’t touch us, the cunts.” Flying over his colourful language, Emma reflected on his answer. It was a side effect that she hadn’t thought about but it made sense.

“It sounds like this virus has made life in prison easier, or am I going too far in saying that?”

“Yeah well, for me, it has and also for those people who have nowhere to go. It also helps us with police brutality.”

“Does it?”

“Of course. They’re the only ones that go out, aren’t they? So if one of us results positive to Covid then it means that it’s their fault, isn’t it?” Bronson points out with a raise of his eyebrow.

“That makes sense. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“No one really thinks about us.” The statement could have been filled with resentment but from his tone, it came out nothing more than a fact. However, Emma still felt a little guilty about it.

“Well, actually, there has been an uproar in Italy for this very reason. Families of inmates asked for their relatives to be released because they were not safe in prison. Do you agree?” Remembering an article she saw a couple of days ago, she thought it worth mentioning.

“Sounds like a desperate tentative to get them out. We’re as safe here as anywhere, if not safer.”

“So if you could, you wouldn’t want to leave prison?” Disbelief evident in her voice. Wouldn’t any inmate go back home given the chance?

“Why would I? Where would I even go?” But Bronson presented a fair point. Most of the lives of those who ended up in prison had always difficult stories behind them and in most cases, they don’t have a safety net to fall into.

“Well, I don’t know. Isn’t any place better than a cell?” Still, Emma thought, however difficult it may be to start again, wouldn’t it be ten times better than being in a cell?

“I’ve never understood people's disregard for prison. There’s nothing out there for me anyway.” Apparently, Bronson wasn’t of the same idea.

“If you’re fine and safe I guess it doesn’t matter where you are.” Not really convinced, Emma trying to meet him halfway.

“As lovely as it is to talk to you, my time is up. Gotta go.” Time had flown apparently because the hour the interview was supposed to last had already come to an end. It had been a conversation far more interesting than Emma had anticipated. Who would have thought. One should never judge a book by its cover, indeed.

“Thank you for speaking with me, Charlie. Stay safe,” saying her goodbyes she closed the zoom call. Staring at her desktop, she processed the whole conversation in her mind, the piece she had to write about it already forming in her mind. In order to avoid forgetting the words or losing inspiration, she immediately got to it. Typing away on her keyboard, words had never come to her as easily, she bashed in this sensation remembering why she loved her job so much.

#let's stay home #Quarantine AU #bronson #charlie bronson #charlie bronson x OC #charlie bronson fic #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x OC #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons angst #emma #OC

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bi-bard · 2 years ago

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Miscellaneous Masterlist

A masterlist of any show/movie/project with less than four fics and only one character written about. This includes shows like 9-1-1, The Umbrella Academy, and The Rookie.

Navigation Guide

------------------------------

9-1-1:

Evan “Buck” Buckley:

I’m Sorry… I’m a What

I Think It's Time You Marry Me

Adam [2009]:

Adam Raki:

Safe Place

Rambling

Freckles and Constellations

You're the Right Person, so It's the Right Time

The Bear:

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto:

Welcome Home

Interrogation

Kindness

The Blacklist:

Donald Ressler:

Soft

Well Earned

Too Cold

This Is Not a Hospital

Threats

Ability

Day Off

Drinks

Aftermath

Of Course

Blood & Chocolate (2007):

Aiden Galvin:

Harsh Reality

It's Got Me Planning for the Future and Worrying About the Past

Bodyguard:

David Budd:

Christmas and New Years

I Stumbled in at the Wrong Time (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Bones:

Lance Sweets:

Nervous

And All of the Nights Will Lead into the Night with Me

Charlie Countryman:

Nigel:

Theoretical

Letting Go

I Would’ve Stayed till Death Took Me Out but Then You Fucked Up and Gave Me the Gun

Confessions of a Shopaholic:

Luke Brandon:

Denial

Death Stranding:

Sam Porter Bridges:

Resting

Realignment

Downton Abbey: A New Era:

Jack Barber:

The Look

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves:

Xenk Yendar:

Cruel Trick of Fate

Ella Enchanted:

Prince Charmont:

I Need to Save the Best for Last, I'm Serious

You Brought Heaven Down to Right Where I Stood

Five Nights at Freddy's [Movie]:

Mike Schmidt:

Babysitting

Gilmore Girls:

Dean Forester:

Fearless

Jess Mariano:

Quizzing

Good Omens:

Aziraphale & Crowley:

The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted"

Crowley:

When a Demon Stumbles onto the Doorstep of a Bookshop

Gossip Girl [2021]:

Max Wolfe:

No Other Expectations

Insecurities & Loose Lips

Parties & Stubbornness

Haven:

Duke Crocker:

Touch

House M.D:

Dr. James Wilson:

I Don’t Know What I Was Expecting

Commitment

Dr. Robert Chase:

Waste of Time

Ibiza: Love Drunk:

Leo West:

I Don’t Really Care About That

I Came By:

Toby Nealey:

Coming Back for You

The Invitation:

Walt Deville:

Lovely Night

Freedom [Part 2: The Right Choice] [Part 3: The Perfect Eternity]

Roses

Killing Eve:

Villanelle:

Calm Down

Kingsman Franchise:

Gary “Eggsy” Unwin:

New Year’s Kiss

Fights

I'm Wrong, Right?

Mission

Knives Out Franchise:

Benoit Blanc:

Christmas Day

The Last of Us:

Joel Miller:

Human Connection

Is It Insensitive for Me to Say Get Your Shit Together, So I Can Love You?

Fine

There's So Much I Wanna Tell You, But I Don't Know If It'll Fit

Tests

MacGyver (2016):

Angus MacGyver:

Field Work

The Collection of Failed Date Nights

The Mandalorian:

Din Djarin:

I Thought We Were…

Mr. Robot:

Elliot Alderson:

Who Have You Been Talking To?

The Path:

Cal Roberts:

Supportive

Three Things

Peaky Blinders:

Tommy Shelby:

Shock

Polar:

Duncan Vizla:

Stupid Mistakes

Prodigal Son:

Malcolm Bright:

An Extra Dose of Chaos (Criminal Minds Crossover)

Snow On Valentines Day

I’m Not a Party Kind of Person

Roar (Apple TV):

Bobby Bronson:

Drunk Mess

Robin Hood (2018):

Robin of Loxley:

Knock It Off

The Rookie:

Tim Bradford:

The Worst Day

Schitt’s Creek:

David Rose:

Dammit

New Adventures

Stevie Budd:

Helping Hand

Scream (TV Series):

Tom Martin (from season 2, episode 13):

Alive

Sweetbitter:

Jake:

Wanted

A Kind Act

But You’re Not Allowed, She’s Got You Under Lock and Chain

Uncomfortable Questions

Sick Day

Redefining Affection

No Big Deal (I Love You)

Utopia:

Thomas Christie:

How Much Did You Know?

Wolfblood:

Rhydian Morris:

NASA

Protective By Nature

#fanfiction #imagine #x reader #masterlist

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roswelldetails · 5 years ago

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Episode 2x04 - What if God Was One of Us

EPISODE SUMMARY:

AN ACT OF GOD — On the verge of a breakthrough in her quest to save Max (Nathan Dean), Liz (Jeanine Mason) turns to Kyle (Michael Trevino) for one last favor that could potentially land him in hot water. Meanwhile, Michael (Michael Vlamis) and Alex’s (Tyler Blackburn) investigation into Nora (guest star Kayla Ewell) leads them to a farm, where they meet a historian named Forrest (guest star Christian Antidormi). Elsewhere, Cameron (guest star Riley Voelkel) confronts Jesse Manes (Trevor St. John) about her sister’s whereabouts, and Isobel (Lily Cowles) uses her powers for good. Amber Midthunder also stars. Shiri Appleby directed the episode written by Steve Stringer & Christopher Hollier (#204). Original airdate 4/6/2020.

DETAILS:

Roy said that he took veterinary training, which is how he was able to help with Louise and Nora's injuries.

"How come it feels like you don't know what I'm saying, but you know what I'm thinking?"

Roy moved the truck (with the pods in it?) to the livery.

"Boss's wife won't let him blame the drought on God so that honor goes to his foreman -- that's me."

Kyle on The Science:

"You're telling me that Michael Guerin used pinball parts and a car battery to cause cutaneous perfusion?

(Cutaneous perfusion...i think it is circulation of fluid/blood through tissue, but it's a bit above my head)

The device Liz needs is a "Personal Genome Machine". She ordered it when she still worked at the hospital.

Before entering the Crashdown, Graham Green tapes a Missing sign on the door for Hank Gibbons (who Noah killed in 1x13). Apparently someone covered it up.

The sign is HARD to read, but I think it says:

"All viable leads reported to Graham Green's UFO Emporium will receive a free keychain. Make certain you subscribe to the Weekly Probe as we dive deeper into the untold stories of Roswell and answer the question on everyone's mind. ARE YOU NEXT?"

Graham Green references that he's the "creator of last week's 39th most downloaded true crime podcast." (Assuming that this is the Weekly Probe, referenced on the poster).

Graham Green is opening a 1947 themed malt shop at the UFO Emporium

U.F. Doughs (the Crashdown's new donuts).

Isobel's been coming to the Crashdown every day for weeks. (Note that this episode is the first one that really doesn't have a clear time context).

"Feliz cumpleanos, mama!" Happy birthday in Spanish, of course, but note Kyle's choice term of endearment for fic purposes! And she responds in kind "Gracias, mijo!" (Mijo = male version. Arturo calls Liz mija = female version)

"A wild Michael Guerin finally emerges from his weeks-long hibernation in a lab and a library."

Again, non-specific time frame.

"When every other farm was struggling, the Longs experienced record-breaking crops. Summer of '47. No one could explain it…till October '48. The day after that photo ran in the paper, the farm was devastated by a massive fire. Foreman, entire staff killed. Whole place burned down."

"What caused the fire?"

"Well the paper called it an act of God. Said it was a freak storm. Bolt of lightning strikes the barn the same night that my mom's caught and locked up in Caulfield."

Wyatt Long's horses are named "Diamond" and "Silk".

Jesse Manes' beer of choice is "Polestaff".

Cam's postcard from Charlie (Likely the reason she came back to Roswell) says:

"See you back in Roswell --Charlotte"

Top left corner says "Greetings from Roswell, NM".

It was mailed to Jenna at the Green Hill Motel in Dayton, Ohio.

Jenna says it's not Charlie's handwriting.

Isobel in the mindwarp: "And what's your dream, Arturo? What would be your miracle? What do you pray for?"

Arturo & Rosa's fight…

"Did that fool give you drugs? I'll kill him!"

"Ow! You're hurting me! That's child abuse!"

"Everything I do I do to hold you up and you see it as abuse. I don't know what to do anymore!"

"Yeah right." Rosa falls down and laughs.

"This isn't funny! Sheriff Valenti won't give you any more chances."

"You should be happy. You wanted me to be on the field hockey team, remember? You said I should make friends and have good American fun."

"Who sold you the pills?"

"I stole them."

"Was it Frederico?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Tell me the truth!"

"It was Mom! She's either too high to notice that they're missing, or she knows and she doesn't care."

"You're lying to me. I don't know how to help you."

"So stop trying then. I'm beyond hope anyway, right? That's what everyone else in this town thinks."

"Maybe you're right. I'm going for a drive."

Arturo tried to register with Instagram as PancakePapi!! He ended up with PancakePapi58!

Scene with Steph and her dad...FIRST MENTION OF SOPAPILLAS ON THE SHOW!!! 🤤🤤🤤🤤 (They're the best...in New Mexican restaurants they're like, both an appetizer and a dessert. They're like hollow fried bread that you eat with honey. Delicious.) See here:

Plus it gave the show another opportunity to be authentically New Mexican through food references. (Last season it was in episode 2 when Arturo asked,"red or green?" And Liz replied "Christmas!". In New Mexico that means half red half green chile smothering her plate.) Like so:

1948...unclear how much time has passed, but Louise says months.

The kid's name is Walt. (Walt Long?? Some other last name?).

Nora says that under the tarp is the "pumpkin launcher" and it's a surprise.

Nora says it's not safe for Michael here, "but soon."

"Hey do you smell that? It smells like rain. It's what you smell like under all the grease and bourbon. It's what your workshop smells like. Something alien happened here. Not that I can still smell it 70 years later."

"This is the best evidence I've seen that Max and Isobel's mother survived the initial firefight. This is something that you do with family."

"Nora's my mother. If she was here at the same time as Louise…"

Note - when did they confirm who Louise was or that she was Max & Isobel's mom? This has not happened narratively yet.

Since Walt was a young kid, Alex thinks there's a chance he's still alive (though at the end Nora definitely thought he died when the barn blew up. I suspect that Walt survived and is the key to the story...not fact, just speculation.)

Forrest: "The foreman, Roy Bronson, was definitely hiding something. But it wasn't Little Green Men. It was Nazi spies."

"This is like Junior Year eraser room, getting caught by Coach Wiggins."

OG callback to the eraser room being the high school makeout spot. OG, "the eraser room takes our innocence."

Rosa in Spanish "¿En serio?" Basically "are you serious!?!" Or "really?" When the blender shorts out (awfully similar to her first Noah nightmare in 2x01)

"...when Charlie told me she had stole classified documents, I reported her. I thought I was doing the right thing and the military put her in prison."

"Right. Where she was safe."

"No. I… I didn't know who she really was when I turned her in. I didn't know what prison would do to her."

"She wanted you to turn her in, Jenna. She set you up to do so. She knew that as long as she was in government custody no one could get to her."

"Charlie fought in two wars. Who was she afraid of?"

"A private securities firm, most likely. You know that I met her? She was working on this genetic sequencing project that had the potential to save lives, but also destroy them. And there were some people out there who saw applications for her research that went beyond her intentions."

"She was doing research that could help save lives, and people wanted to use it to create a bioweapon."

"Well yeah, she created this pathogen that could seek out and dismantle specific sequences. Just think about it -- a smart bomb that could be detonated in the middle of a crowded city, only harm it's intended target. Think about the innocent civilian lives saved while you take out leaders of terrorist organizations."

"Or commit genocide. If her work fell into the wrong hands, it could quietly wipe out entire groups of people because they share a certain genetic code, while their neighbors go about living their lives. Why do you know so much about this? What's your interest in my sister?"

"I believed that I had a use for her pathogen, at one time. But my fight is over now."

A few notes about this exchange.

Clearly Charlie's pathogen is the key ingredient in the smart bomb that Flint was developing, as discussed in 1x12.

Liz's "personal genome machine" can break down the alien genetics and give Project Shepherd what they need to use a smart bomb on the aliens.

Don't forget, her lab is protected by Air Force security set up by "Alex's team". (Badbadbadbad!)

Rosa describing her bipolarism.

"I get these mood swings sometimes. Like, I can be happy and singing one minute, and then, all of a sudden, this darkness just closes in over me, and I have all these voices telling me that I'm worthless."

Jesse gives Cam the name of the security firm looking for Charlie. We don't see the name of it. He warns her to be careful. "I may be hobbled but they are not."

"Now, you were hunting aliens, and I gave you Max's name. Why didn't you lock him up in Caulfield with the rest?"

"I don't know. I guess I feel like there's a story unfolding in Roswell. Has been for more than 50 years. You can't blame me for wanting to see how it ends."

Catherine Zeta-Jones in a laser maze -- Liz is referencing the 1999 movie Entrapment.

Liz trying to science-intrigue Kyle….

"Interesting historical footnote. There was an internment camp in Roswell. Nazi POWs built half this city. Hence the iron crosses. My great-great grandfather BoDean's foreman got busted for hiding a couple of women here. According to him 'A couple Nazi spies escaped and strudeled their schnitzel for room and board right here on this very farm. See, I was never really as into shooting squirrels as Wyatt is, so, when I came out here for summers as a kid, my cousin Kate and I -- we'd prowl the property for artifacts."

"You know, what we're doing you and me -- it doesn't only have to be for Max...once Max is healthy, we could use this genome machine to Target cellular apoptosis. I mean, we could craft polymerase sequencing in human DNA. We don't have to stop. We have no boards, no restrictions…"

Apoptosis is also sometimes referred to as "cellular suicide" or "spontaneous single cell death".

Polymerase is like the building blocks of DNA.

In other words, Liz is really, really smart.

FORREST LONG!!!!!! 😂😂😂.

Alex on the bullet shells: "These match the M1917s the airmen used in '48.

"They were scattered all over the property. Legend has it the Nazis we're building some kind of bomb in the barn. Then one night the Air Force showed up."

"The night of the fire."

"The blaze burned so hot it turned sand to stone. Papers say that lightning struck the barn and everyone died in the flames, but...that's bull. See I think the Air Force covered up the massacre that happened when they discovered that weapon.

A few things on this scene…

Forrest mentions his cousin Kate...Wyatt's sister who was murdered by Noah in 2008. So Forrest is Wyatt Long's cousin.

Substitute Nazi for alien and it's probably all based somewhat based in truth. In the 1940s that definitely would have been a reasonably obvious way to cover it up, especially given the history that Forrest cites and the military culture in Roswell.

Note: POW = prisoner of war

The iron crosses Forrest references…

Article on the German POWs in the Roswell Daily Record…

Walt was hiding in the barn when Tripp made it explode. Explosion looked shimmery, like the alien ship & tech.

Also, more info than you ever wanted to know about the Roswell Army Air Field/Walker Air Force Base/Roswell International Air Center...including some info on the POWs.

Sheriff Valenti's theory on Noah's death:

"I think Max Evans poisoned Noah and left him in the desert the night of the lightning storm, and I think Isobel Evans was in on it."

Kyle says it would take gallons of acetone to poison someone.

Tripp was Alex's great uncle

Nora was working on a ship to take the pods home.

TRIPP MANES!!! Full name is Eugene Manes III.

Alex finally gives Michael the piece of alien ship he's had. He doesn't want to be another Manes man standing in Michael's way.

Cam's voicemail to Liz.

"Got a lead on my sister. Give me a call when you get that tin-star-wearing E.T. awake, so I can curse him out for worrying us all. Good luck Liz. Bring Max home."

Arturo's Spanish to Liz and Rosa.

"Das gracias a Dios. Gracias todos los dias."

Translates generally to "Thank God. Thanks every day."

Isobel's monologue at the end:

"The idea of God always freaked me out. Like, apparently he made people in his own image, which, first of all, get over yourself. And also, does that apply to us? Does every planet have its own God? Let's say that we're all clones of the big guy in the sky. Well then, doesn't it stand to reason that we're all capable of slinging light? Well I guess by that same token we're all capable of tremendous wrath. We're walking contradictions. A never-ending mercurial rise and fall. Darkness and light. I guess the real miracle is choosing the light. Despite the ever-present darkness. Look at us. You're in the middle of a downright biblical desert, galaxies from where we started. I mean, our very existence is a miracle. I'm capable of so much more than I thought I was, Max. I really think that maybe I could do great things. I need you to come back, okay? I need you to be the thing that I can believe in. That doesn't let me down. I just need this one little miracle, and I promise I won't ever ask for anything ever again."

MUSIC:

1. LEN "Steal My Sunshine"

2. Spacehog "In The Meantime"

3. Duke Ellington "Take It Easy"

4. Maná "Como Te Deseo"

5. Oasis "Don't Look Back In Anger"

6. Ben Harper "Waiting On An Angel"

#roswell new mexico #rnm season 2 #episode details #long post #what if god was one of us #rnm 204

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spn-mediabigbang · 5 years ago

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Title: Still Clueless

Author: @andromytta

Artist: @heart-eyescastiel

Film: Clueless

Pairings: Cher Horowitz/Sam Winchester; Castiel Shurley/Dean Smith; Dionne Davenport/Murray Duvall

Word Count: 20,056

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary:

Take a stroll through the mid-nineties as we are reunited with the crew from Bronson Alcott High School after the wedding of Ms. Geist and Mr. Hall. Join Cher Horowitz and her friends: Sam Winchester, Dionne Davenport, Castiel Shurley, Murray Duvall, Dean Smith, Charlie Bradbury, and Summer Park as they navigate their senior year, with family changes, new friends, and coming outs. A sequel, of sorts, to that 90s blockbuster, Clueless, where Supernatural characters star as some of the beloved (and not so beloved) characters from the film.

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Underage Drinking; Copious 90s References; POV Alternating; Unreliable Narrator; POV First Person; POV Third Person

Link to Fic Link to Art

#spn movie big bang #andromytta #heart-eyes castiel #destiel

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hardyimagines · 6 years ago

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Release

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Could you do a fic where charlie has been released from prison and it's his first day out and all he wants is to have sex with his sweetheart ?

Warnings: um, if this fic was a video, tumblr would 100% delete it. Sex. Sex. Sex. Descriptive sex.

SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS. IM HEADED OUT BUT DIDNT WANT TO DEPRIVE YOU GUYS ANY LONGER OF BRONSON.. ILL PROOF READ IN A BIT. IM SORRY FOR MISTAKES AHG

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The previously dark and gloomy prison stood tall above you. Its dark walls and broken crevices somehow seemed more inviting today. The usual intimidating building was now calling your name. Never in all your life had you ever imagined that you’d be showing up to a penitentiary with so much excitement. There was a tight ball in your chest, one of pure happiness and giddiness that was impossible to contain. Your eyes shone brightly, revealing to the surrounding people how delighted you were that Charles Bronson was being released. A lot of the surrounding people were disappointed and livid that such a violent man was being let out of jail, but not you.

Charles Bronson was your long time boyfriend and childhood best friend. Since the age of 15 you’d be crushing on the absolute brute. He’d always been a little bit of bully to you, constantly pestering you. It was like his goal, from the second you’d met him, to be a pain in your ass. Then something changed when you’d been stood up by a second date. Charles had been there to comfort you and console you in the only way he’d known how. He was your best friend — though he could be an ass, but that day he’d been there, ready to assure you a hundred times that no boy in the world deserved you. His soft words of assurance had urged you to kiss him and to fall in love with him. The weakness that had filled you made you so desperate for physical affection and when he’d given into you, neither of you knew how to stop it.

Ten years later led to today. All that teasing and playfulness had turned into something so passionate and meaningful, something you’d never expected from the man. He’d been arrested six years ago, and everyday of those six years, he’d held your heart in his hands. Visitations were limited, but you showed up at every available opportunity. Letters were uncommon — you were positive the guards never actually gave them to your boyfriend. Apart from all the draining, sad stuff, today was an extraordinary day. Bronson was being let out and every negative thought in your head vanished.

The heavy metal doors opened wide. A loud creak floated through the air, grasping the attention of every person within ten feet. Charles Bronson stood between two guards. His head was as bald as it had always been, clear and shiny beneath the bright sun’s rays that beat down on him. He wore a dark pair of sunglasses that shielded his glistening blue eyes. His lips were curved upward, a delicious sign that revealed to everyone that he was more than happy to see them all — even if it was due to hatred for most. The handsome man wore a white pullover shirt, tucked into the waistband of a dark pair of jeans. He was stood tall and cocky, hands full of his few belongings.

“Pleasure meeting the two of you.” He smirked toward the men before tipping his head in faux meaning. “Bunch of fucking cunts.” He uttered before shoving past them and further away from the prison. The man’s boots scuffed the cracked pavement beneath him audibly as he made his way through the long line of people. Unfortunately for you, you were stood at the back. But fortunately for you, Bronson had eyes like a hawk and his bright orbs had latched on to you within milliseconds.

“Fuckin hell.” His husky, low voice hit your ears. “Is that my girl?” In his right hand he clutched a jacket and in his left a few papers. He opened his arms wide as he approached further, a breathy growl escaping his throat. “Fucking beautiful.” He announced as he locked his arms around you securely. Without hesitation, your slender arms circled his neck tightly. Your thighs made their way around his waist and soon enough you resembled a monkey, clinging to a tree. The surrounding people glared at the scene, completely and utterly sickened that you could love such an abusive man. There was no time for you to speak — no time to say you loved him, or missed him, or wanted to take him to eat, and then go home. There was no time at all, for Bronson hadn’t wasted even a second before pressing his warm lips against your own.

The both of you had been deprived, so the hungry kiss was beyond expected. Your small hands cradled the back of his head as your lips moved against one another feverishly. It was a battle to see he could devour the other first. Bronson was winning. His tongue was moving animalistically against your own. You felt weaker and weaker with every passing second. The thoughts in your head were becoming jumbled and your heavy breaths were now laced with quiet whimpers. Bronson moved his hands along the backs of your thigh until his wide palms curled around your rear. He held you against him in approval, releasing little moans and groans so you knew how glad he was to see you. To kiss you. To hold you. It was only when the two of you were about to positively suffocate that the man tore himself away. His body still remained wrapped around yours, but his mouth instead fell to rest against your shoulder so he could feed his lungs the oxygen that they craved. When he set you down, your legs merely fell to the ground, but your hands remained in place.

“Hello, handsome.” You chirped airily, studying how much healthier he looked beneath the sun’s rays. Your hands fell away from his shoulders so they could brush down and along his bulging arms. Tugging him back into you so you could kiss him sweetly, your hands blindly found his own so you could lead him backwards and toward the parked car.

“Need something to fucking eat.” He uttered beneath his breath. Draping his grey jacket over his shoulder, he pushed his papers into his back pocket so that his hands were free. Dragging you into his chest smoothly, he stared down at you happily when you opened your mouth to offer, he assumed, restaurants nearby. His hand lifted to your chin, cupping your warm skin. Lowering his head, he swiped his tongue along your parted lips before letting out a deep, throaty hum. “I want you.” He told you bluntly. Your eyes fluttered and your legs turned to jello. The cold air around you vanished and all you could feel was the sweltering heat from the sun. Bronson’s voice was rough. The pitch was deep, but it was music to your ears.

“You haven’t changed a bit.” You whispered breathily to the man. Your hand fell to the front of his chest, small fingers gliding along the front of the white t-shirt he wore. He pushed his sunglasses on to the top of his head before rewarding you with a slow, lopsided grin. “I’m not going to be very filling, baby, don’t you want something else too? A burger- haven’t you had any cravings?” The man wasn’t really listening to the words that left that pretty mouth of yours. He was entirely too busy envisioning your lips wrapped around his cock. It had been far too long and he was quite ashamed at how horny he was. The shame didn’t last long though.

“All I need, right,” He lowered his hand away from yours. His strong fingers brushed along your stomach as he continued to back you up toward the car. The soft blue colored car was a sturdy structure for you to lean against as Bronson pinned you against the side of it. His hand slid south, thick fingers brushing along the front of your trousers. The fabric was thin, helping Bronson in his attempt to tease you. His hand pushed between your thighs so he could cup the heated space. The palm of his hand pressed firmly against you, fingers grazing the underside of your ass. There was no worry floating in the man’s gaze. Despite the fact that the two of you were stood outside the jailhouse, with hundreds of eyes latched on to you, Bronson paid them no mind. His strong chest brushed against your own, lazy smile morphing into a devilish smirk. “is this cunt of yours.” He spoke against your ear before slowly opening his mouth so he could grip your ear with his teeth. A low, warning growl left him and in an instant you’d spun around so you could scramble into the car. Bronson’s hand dangled at his side, fingers twitching lightly in success as he moved around the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat. “Off with those fucking things in, darling, they’ll just be in my fucking way.” The man laid one hand on the steering wheel as the other lifted the keys so he could slot the end into the ignition. The engine roared to life as you hurriedly hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your slacks. Rolling the fabric down your thighs and to your knees, your movements grew shakier and shakier.

The man at your side looked toward your thighs, quaking excitedly against the leather seats. He couldn’t help the pride that flooded him. You’d waited years to be reunited with him in such a physical way and he wasn’t going to deprive you any longer. His hand moved to your knee, the pads of his fingers caressing the smooth skin that resided there. His foot sunk into the gas pedal, effectively rolling the car out of the lot and into the main road. Bronson was more than capable of focusing on driving and pleasuring you, he’d done it many times before he’d gone away. Shaky breaths erupted from your lips, impossible to hold in and he wasn’t even doing anything yet.

“Did you miss me?” He inquired lowly. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“Yes.” You moaned out impatiently. Your lust-clouded eyes fell to his hand, studying it intently as you waited for it to roam upward. It did as you spoke. His palm grazed your hot flesh, lazily brushing along it as it journeyed up to the space between your legs. The underwear you wore was thin and soaked. Bronson almost chuckled at how wet you were. His eyes flickered to your face. You had your teeth clasped down on your bottom lip — no doubt hoping that he wouldn’t point out the fact that you were drenched. He did. He knew you got shy over things like that and he loved watching you squirm.

“Fucking hell, sunshine.” He drew his eyes away from the road so he could hunch forward and inspect the cloth that shielded your most private space from his penetrative gaze. The pink material was darker in the center, eliciting a loud shout of laughter from the man. He was like a child when it came to sex. He felt so proud when he saw the effect he had over you. “You’re fucking ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Six years is a long time to wait.” You offered your explanation breathily. “It’s not my fault.” Bronson pulled a wide grin before running his tongue over his lips. “Bronson.” Your hand moved to his arm. “No. Drive.” You pleaded. You wanted to get home. The sooner, the better, then he could have you in any position he wanted and do whatever he wanted. You could tell by the look in his eye that he wanted to hunch over and devour you like you were the last meal he’d ever eat, but that would led to a car crash and he’d be at fault and then go back to that hellhole. Your hand squeezed his bicep pleadingly. He nodded once before looking back to the road. He may not have been able to eat you, but he sure as hell had some fingers that he could please you with. His middle finger hooked in the fabric of your panties and without warning he drew the things off of you and tossed them on to the floor. You laid your hand on the door, gripping on to it tightly. Bracing yourself for his touch, you closed your eyes and relaxed your body. Fingering yourself wasn’t nearly as nice as recieving such a touch from the man. Closing your eyes, your head rolled to the side and your legs spread even wider, giving him power over you. His middle finger was the first to push into you. He was being uncharacteristically gentle, but you supposed it was because he knew it had been a while. His goal wasn’t to hurt you — ever. Your walls clenched around his digit gratefully, hugging him tightly.

The man looked toward your shielded chest, eyeing the way you arched. Your breaths were shallow and short, chest heaving visibly. He pumped his middle finger at a delightfully slow pace, warning you up. You knew when he had his cock actually buried inside you, this gentle man would be gone. His hand would be curled around your throat as delicately as possibly, but his thrusts would be brutal and merciless. He added another finger without much warning. His pointer finger joined his middle one, moving at a slow, steady pace. You closed your thighs tightly to savor the feeling, hips rocking toward his hand in need. Bronson was in heaven at the feel of your soft skin, rubbing against his wrist. He struggled to get his third finger inside you because of how tightly you’d trapped his hand between your thighs, so he stuck with just two. His thumb brushed over your clit, little grunts escaping his lips as he picked up the pace of his fingers. You lifted your hand to his arm so you could clutch on to him as he pleasured you. His demeanor was calm and collected so the surroundings cars couldn’t read the situation. His hand moved a little quicker inside you, thumb rubbing more firmly and securely against your bundle of nerves.

“Bronson..” You whispered under your breath before groaning out loudly. You squirmed, attempting to sit up so you could adjust the angle, but your body was limp and weak. You felt weighed down to the seat. Your orgasm hit you unexpectedly. A wave of warmth rushed through you and then an explosion of tingles. Your droopy eyes closed tightly and your mouth opened in a silent cry. Your expression looked like one of misery, but it was definitely one of ecstasy. Bronson was only aware you’d orgasmed by the extreme amount of release that coated his fingers and the way your insides wrapped around him suffocatingly tight.

It didn’t take long for you to get worked up again. Bronson’s fingers remained inside you in order to draw our your orgasm, but you were beginning to feel that delicious ache form once more. Opening your legs shakily, your thighs fell open, slumped tiredly. Bronson slowly withdrew his fingers before lifting the glistening digits to his lips. His tongue moved along his middle finger and then pointer one, licking each one thoroughly clean before he set his hand on his thigh with a low groan. The forming bulge in his jeans was becoming agonizingly uncomfortable. The drive to the house wasn’t far now so you slowly began to readjust yourself. Leaning over, you pinched the fabric of your trousers and slowly lifted the material. You were trembling. Bronson watched you re-dress. He was tempted to stop you, but he was sure his parents would be waiting at home and he didn’t think they’d really want to see you walking alongside him with nothing but a blouse on. The car came to a slow halt. Parking the vehicle in the driveway, the man looked toward you before inhaling deeply. It was evident in his gaze that he wanted to continue what had been started, but the second car, parked in front of the one that the pair of you still sat in, belonged to his parents. He couldn’t very well fuck you with his rambling mother and curious father latched to his side.

The tip of your fingers lifted to his smooth cheeks. Drawing him toward you, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his mustache.

“They won’t stay for long.” You assured him. “They know who you are and how you are, don’t forget that.” Reaching behind you, you grabbed ahold of the door handle before nudging the thing open and climbing out of the car. Bronson took a moment before climbing out as well. He removed the sunglasses from his head and folded them. Tucking them away inside the neckline of his shirt, he pushed one hand into his pocket before reaching for you. Your hand laced through his, soft eyes lifting to his hardened expression. “Don’t be a grump, Charles. They missed you.” He let out a low grunt before following along behind you as you lead the way.

The front door had a large wreath hanging on the front, leftover from the Christmas holidays which were long gone now. The green circle was bordered by a large red bow, hung in the center of the almond-colored door. Your hand circled the doorknob before twisting it so that you could push it open. The rug on the porch read ‘welcome’, a new addition to the home Bronson had once knew. His large hand moved to your lower back, brushing along the length of it. He rubbed the bottoms of his boot off against the carpet before stepping into the warmth. He kicked the door shut gently before lookin around. The scent was homely and familiar, but the interior looked different somehow. You hadn’t done remodeling or moved anything around, it just looked so foreign.

A loud yelping sounded from the corner. To the right of Bronson, on a fluffy yellow dog-bed sat a little black furball. Bronson narrowed his eyes at the beast before looking toward you in question.

“What the fuck is that then?” He grumbled out before taking a small step back as the little beast came trampling toward the two of you. His face was swallowed by his fur, almost invisible. The puppy came to a stop at your feet, tail wagging happily. The animal barked again, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he lifted himself on to his hind legs to greet you.

“This is Bear. I bought him last year.” Your eyes lifted to your boyfriend. “He’s a great protector.” The teasing tone in your voice told Bronson that you’d merely bought the thing to piss him off. “And he keeps me company. I’ve been awfully lonely.” The teasing tone was gone. He could tell you were being honest then. The veins in his arms became visible as he clenched his fists. His eyes fell on the thing as you leaned over to lift it. He was a cute little bugger, but he couldn’t believe you’d gone out and purchased the little devil without asking him. He supposed you didn’t need to, you’d lived in the house for longer than he had. Bronson didn’t have a chance to touch or speak to Bear before his parents came scrambling into the room.

“Charlie!” His mother exclaimed. Her eyes were alight. Happiness radiated off of her, just as it had you. Her arms opened wide, little body shuffling toward him as she drew him in for an embrace. The man towered over her, biceps flexing as he wrapped them around her small form. She nestled into his chest, thanking the lord for bringing her baby home. The embrace was short-lived for when Charles’ father entered the room, the men exchanged a handshake and then a hug. His mother made her way toward you so she could loop her arm around your hips and grin at her son. She was so happy that he was home. You kissed the top of her head before handing Bear over to her. Briefly explaining to her that you would grab the surprise cake, you vanished from the room. Bronson’s eyes were glued to the sway of your hips, entrances by your body and it’s movements.

The next few hours were spent lounging in the living room. Conversations were lengthy and laughter-infused, but as the sun was beginning to set, the chatter was beginning to die off. Bronson was sat on the sofa, knees spread wide and elbows situated on his thighs as he watched you move around the room. His parents had said their goodbyes and with tired eyes and heavy bodies had made their way outside to the car. The man found it impossible to tear his eyes away from you as you cleaned up the snacks and beverages. Throughout the night, he couldn’t help but think of how perfect you were for him. Absolutely made to be his perfect match. The way you connected with his family made him love you even more.

The room was quiet now, apart from your soft humming. Bear was fast asleep beside the fireplace, little body a deadweight as he lounged on the floor. Bronson watched you re-enter the room, hands on your curvy hips as your eyes raked the room for any leftover mess.

“I love you.” He announced lowly. His eyes were glued to you, refusing to move away for even a second. You glanced toward him at his words, shaped brows furrowing. Little lines formed in the crease between your eyebrows before your lips twitched upward into a smile. His words had caught you off guard — you found them to be quite random. But they were very appreciated. The bottoms of your feed slid along the carpet as you approached him.

“I love you too.” You whispered. The tips of your fingers lifted to his shoulders, thumbs brushing over his collarbones as you lifted your leg and set your knee on the cushion. Lowering yourself down and on top of his lap, he removed his elbows from his thighs so that you had all the space he had to offer. “And I’ve missed you so.. so much.” Bronson leaned back against the cushions, admiring you as you sat perched up on his thighs. Your hands moved from his shoulders to his chest, tracing the upper half of his torso before your hands moved south to his stomach. It felt so good to touch him. There was nothing but muscle beneath your palms, tough, hard muscle which you’d missed so much. You weren’t alone anymore.

When you’d been younger, Bronson had always warned you not to mess with boys a lot bigger than you. He’d warned you that they’d take advantage of you, or crush you, and you’d heeded his warning.. well, so long as it didn’t apply to him. He’d given you that fair deterrent before leaning in and kissing you for the first time eleven years ago. Bronson drew you from your thoughts when he noticed the faraway look in your eye.

“Sunshine?” His thumb sunk into your hip, drawing you back to reality. “You’re a bit faraway, don’t you think?” He grunted. His eyes trailed along your features, studying the look of concentration you wore.

“Mh?” Your eyes flickered before moving to his own. “Oh, sorry.. I was just.. reminiscing. Do you remember our first kiss?” The words were airy as they left your lips. Your fingertips lifted to the side of his neck, fingernails gentle as they traced his skin. The man lifted a brow before slowly folding one behind his head. Of course he remembered the first kiss he’d shared with you.

It had been a long day, one that left him exhausted and ready to go home. You’d been so playful that day and it had gotten on his nerves a significant amount. He’d been just a boy. An irritated boy, ready to throttle the girl that refused to give him any peace.

“I mean it,” He hissed. “if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll snap your fucking neck.” The threat was empty. You knew that better than anyone. Charles Bronson had a big mouth, one that didn’t have a sensor on it. His hand was wrapped around your throat, firm and rough as he pressed you against the brick wall behind you.

“Oh, boohoo, big, bad, scary Bronson is threatening to hit me once again.” Your arms lifted to his chest to pry him back, but he hardly moved. “I’ll kick your ass.” You told the man firmly before lifting your arm up and locking it around his shoulders. It was a poor attempt to lug him down and tackle him to the floor, but he was entirely too strong.

“Kick my ass!?” The boy howled with laughter. “I’d like to see you try.” He grit his teeth. You pulled a look of innocence. An apologetic look that made him back up slightly. You used it as an advantage. He’d let his guard down, so you’d pounced. He’d half expected it though, so in the midst of your lunging, he’d caught you on his hips. Your outcry of determination was then silenced when he smoothly tackled you to the ground. The grass beneath your body was somewhat of a cushion. You opened your legs so you could get closer to him, ready to hammer your fists against his back and pound them against him like a drum. “You shouldn’t mess with boys a lot bigger than you, Y/N. You’re liable to end up hurt.” His breaths were heavy and harsh as they wafted over your face. The grass you were laid in was damp and you were sure mud was staining the back of your clothes.

“I’m a big girl, Charlie. I can take care of myself.” Your words were venomous and just as harsh. You attempted to lift yourself up on to your elbows and wiggle out from beneath him, but his hand pressed against the space above you, blocking you from moving any further. He lowered his head as if to show you that you weren’t in control of this situation. You were lucky it was him and not someone else who had you pinned to the ground. He, just wanting to annoy you, leaned in and brushed his nose against yours with a raise of his brows.

“Do you feel in control?” He whispered harshly. You could practically feel his lips. They weren’t touching yours, but because of the proximity, they might as well have been. Your head shook at his question, lashes fluttering shyly as you looked away. You understood his point.

“You’ve made your point, Bronson. Now, get off.” Your hips lifted to buck at him, trying to nudge him off, but he smoothly lowered his hand to cease your little movements. His hand moved from the grass and his elbow fell to the ground instead. He brushed his fingers through your twig-infested locks before slowly curling his fingers in your strands of hair. He lowered his head then and his plump lips brushed your own. You expected bile to rise in your throat and disgust to wash through you. You did not expect a twinge between your legs and then a shiver along your spine. Your mouth parted against his to inquire what he was doing, but he silenced you easily by kissing you fully. His lips were plump and fall, covering your own easily. His hips lowered so that he was laying on top of you, elbow sinking further into the dirt as he supported majority of his weight. Your legs opened wide, small hands ceasing their angry hits against him. Your fists opened and your palms brushed along his back. You didn’t feel in control at all over this situation.. and you really didn’t mind.

“Charlie!” His mother bellowed from across the road. “Charlie Bronson! You get in this house right now!” Her demanding words made the boy moan defeatedly into your mouth. His lips broke away from yours after a few moments and when he went to lift himself off of you, you pathetically clutched on to him and let out a little whimper for him to stay. It was then, as he knelt up on top of you and stared down at you in confusion, that he’d realized that innocent kiss would soon sprout into sonmuch more. He lowered his head and pressed his mouth against yours for only a second before finally standing.

He wore a smug grin on his lips as he made his way back home. You stayed in the grass for a while. Your lips tingle from the kiss and your eyes fluttered shut as you replayed it over in your mind. It was only when your mother came venturing out into the cold to find you that you were pulled from your thoughts and lead back home.

“Lay down.” His instructed words met your ears. Coming back to the present once more, you stared down at him with a lazy smile before rolling off his body and collapsing on your back on the cushions. He rotated smoothly before climbing on top of you. The position was very familiar. He set his hand on the arm of the couch and peered down at you with a hungry look in his eye. His hand fell to your cheek, thumb gliding along your flesh, savoring the feel of it. The heels of your feet sunk into the couch as you spread your legs, no hesitation or shyness in your movements now. Charles Bronson was one of the fastest undressers you’d ever met. His shirt was ripped from his body and directly after he’d smoothly undone your blouse. He tugged your slacks from your body and threw them on to the floor along with his dark colored jeans. There was nothing in his gaze except for love and desire. The ache between your legs became more apparent when he rolled off his boxers and exposed his erect member to you. It had been so long since you’d seen the beauty that resided between his thighs. Your tongue traced your lips slowly as you moved your hands toward your old friend. His shaft was hard and throbbing against your palm. Bronson had been so deprived of this physical affection while he’d been tucked away in a jail cell, so you’d spend the whole night giving in to whatever he wanted. Your hands worked on his cock, squeezing and rubbing his member thoroughly. He was a grunting mess. His fingernails scraped at the couch before curling in it tightly. He wanted to be shoved deep inside you, drilling himself into your soaked entrance repeatedly, but he didn’t want to hurt you and he knew he’d have no control, fresh out of prison. You could take it though. You both knew that. You’d always been able to take it.

“Charlie..” You bit your lip. “Fuck me.” It was evident in his gaze that he wanted more than just a handjob and you weren’t going to deny him that. Guiding him forward by leading his erection toward you, you shuffled beneath him to get into a comfortable position. Your thighs would be burned red from his aggressive rocking and your insides would ache for days. You were sure you’d have a pain in your lower back if you didn’t angle yourself just right. Charlie had no control when you sprawled out submissively and spread your legs so invitingly. His hands opened wide and pressed against your inner thighs to hold them open. His hips sunk forward further, his tip grazing your entrance. He let out a weak whimper of want and you didn’t deny him any further. Guiding him into you fully, your back arched off the couch and your mouth opened in a groan of ecstasy.

“Fucking hell.. that’s it.” He ground out between his bared teeth. His eyes fell shut as a shiver ran along his body. The man wasn’t going to last long, you knew that. It turned him on how much you loved him and each time he managed to open his droopy eyelids to peer down at you, he was stuck staring down at your submissive form, sprawled out beneath him with a look of love pasted on your face. Charlie drew his hips back, nearly pulling out of you, before grunting as he sunk back into you completely. His thighs would be burning soon, pleading for him to cease his harsh movements, but he’d ignore his body. The throb in his cock would be louder than the pain in his thighs. You opened your mouth and pressed your lips against his front. Showering his tattoos with all the affection you could muster up, you kissed along his warm skin, whimpering breathily when he’d pound himself into you. It was slow at first. Slow and hard; but still slow. Your bodies were both beyond delighted to be reunited and just a few minutes in, Bronson’s reminded him of exactly what he liked. He began to hammer himself into you without warning or confirmation. Your body jolted beneath the force so you wound your arms around him so you could cling to him desperately. Clutching on to him for dear life, you shut your eyes and moved your lips to his ear. The man was rowdy and giggling, unable to contain the sounds that rolled past his lips. His knees bounced against the cushions, hips beginning to roll. “Oh, fuck me.” He practically howled out.

You lifted your arms up and bent them over the arm of the sofa. Squirming beneath him with a little whine, your leg lifted and flopped over the back of the couch. Bronson stared down at you before nibbling on his bottom lip. The sounds that left his throat were sounds that only this man could make.

“Right, fuckin-“ He moaned out. “there.” Charles Bronson didn’t hold back in the slightest. The man buckled into you, fucking you senseless and relentlessly. Your skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat, blanket in the moisture. The couch springs were beginning to creak beneath the angry amount of weight being applied and then removed. The man buried his face into your neck and bit the flesh beneath his teeth. It didn’t take long at all for him to finally climax and he did so with a drawn out roar. You followed soon after, unable to hold back any longer and for the second time that day, you shook as the orgasm rolled through you in waves. Your bucks and his thrusts began to slow simultaneously. His body grew heavier and heavier atop your own. His muscles gave out and he slumped against you completely, cock twitching as it remained hidden away inside you. A little moan of approval escaped you as you relaxed beneath him. His skin was stained with little half-moons from where you’d been gripping him unknowing viciously. The pair of you slumped against the furniture, not daring to part in such a passionate way. You lazily brushed your fingers along Bronson’s back before smiling slowly.

“Welcome home..” You whispered beneath your breath before kissing the top of his head. You could feel his smile, lazy against the side of your neck. It sure was good to be back, he thought.

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#bronson fanfiction #bronson x reader #charles bronson #tom hardy x reader #charles bronson x reader

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killingdoll · 8 years ago

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(Hình ảnh lấy từ nhiều nguồn, chủ yếu là tumblr.com và Google)

Warnings: cố gắng ngắn gọn nhưng không đảm bảo không lan man, spoilers là chuyện thường ngày ở huyện, ngôn ngữ thiếu nghiêm túc, có thể chen 2-3 thứ tiếng

(Có ai thấy rằng này giống Warnings của bài From Dusk till Dawn đến từng chữ không? Nếu bạn trả lời là “Có” thì bravo, bạn đã đúng. Bạn Joel vốn định gộp hai phim (đúng ra là ba phim) nhưng From Dusk till Dawn dài hơn dự kiến nên bạn tách ra – nếu có thể có hai bài thì tại sao phải gộp làm một, đúng không? Bạn Ctrl C + P đoạn Warnings từ bài trước vào bài này đó mà.)

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Trước khi vào bài, bạn Joel cần giải thích những từ viết tắt sẽ dùng: TBS là The Boondock Saints, chỉ chung cả hai bộ phim và fandom; TBS1 chỉ The Boondock Saints, phần đầu tiên được công chiếu vào năm 1999; TBS2 chỉ The Boondock Saints: All Saints Day, phần hai được công chiếu đúng mười năm sau và tiếp nối câu chuyện của anh em Connor và Murphy ở phần đầu.

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Nếu như bạn Joel đến với khá nhiều phim, truyện khác nhờ sự tình cờ (chán, bật TV lên, chọn một phim có summary khá hoặc đơn giản vì có poster đẹp ( ^ω^ )) thì TBS là ngoại lệ: bạn chủ động tìm đến TBS do cảm thấy hứng thú sau một lần tình cờ nhìn hình ảnh hai anh em MacManus – Connor (Sean Patrick Flanery) và Murphy (Norman Reedus) – trong một vid ghép chung với hai anh em Gecko (From Dusk till Dawn bản truyền hình). Vì đang sa chân vào fandom FDTD bản truyền hình nói chung và hai anh em Seth và Richie nói riêng nên bạn đi tìm vid của hai người và tình cờ gặp vid Cage the Beast (đã có Việt sub) ghép cả hai cặp. Ban đầu, dù bạn thích hình ảnh của Connor và Murphy lắm nhưng không biết đây là phim gì (vid fan Trung làm nên ghi tên phim bằng tiếng Trung) nên đành chịu. Bẵng đi một thời gian, một dịp khác, bạn thấy một fanart vẽ hai anh em Gecko chung với hai anh em MacManus và may quá, lần này họa sĩ ghi tên phim tiếng Anh trên hình nên bạn tìm được phim để xem.

Nói chung là anh em Gecko đã dẫn dắt bạn Joel đến với anh em Macmanus và một điều thú vị là hai cặp anh em này có rất nhiều điểm giống nhau mà có thể một ngày nào đó bạn sẽ dành cho họ một bài riêng.

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Phim hành động bắn nhau đuỳnh đoàng, thuốc súng bốc mù mịt trước giờ không phải gu của bạn Joel; bạn thích phim kinh dị hoặc mystery hơn. Tuy nhiên, thỉnh thoảng bạn tình cờ xem được một số phim hành động mà bạn thấy thích thú và TBS là một trong số đó.

Phim: The Boondock Saints, The Boondock Saints: All Saints Day

Năm phát hành: The Boondock Saints (1999), The Boondock Saints: All Saints Day (2009)

Đạo diễn: Troy Duffy

Biên kịch: Troy Duffy

Ngôn ngữ: tiếng Anh (chính), tiếng Ý, tiếng Nga, tiếng Đức, tiếng Tây Ban Nha…

Diễn viên (cả hai phần):

Sean Patrick Flanery — Connor MacManus

Norman Reedus — Murphy MacManus

William Dafoe — Paul Smecker

Billy Connolly — Il Duce

David Della Rocco — Rocco

Clifton Collins Jr. — Rocco

Julia Benz — Eunice Bloom

TBS1 giới thiệu đến người xem một cặp anh em song sinh người Ireland là Connor và Murphy MacManus sống ở một khu nhà thuê xập xệ ở Nam Boston và làm việc trong một xưởng thịt. Cuộc sống chỉ có ăn, ngủ, làm việc và uống rượu ở một quán bar trong khu của hai anh em gặp bước ngoặt lớn khi họ giết hai tên mafia người Nga để tự vệ và được toà xử trắng án. Nhận được ‘lời gọi’ (chắc là của Chúa – phim không nói rõ) qua một giấc mơ, hai anh em nhanh chóng xách súng xách đạn lên đi giết mafia trong khu. Bạn thấy plot có make sense không? Nếu bạn nói “Không”, điều đó cũng dễ hiểu vì dù thích phim thật đấy nhưng bạn Joel cũng thấy plot không make sense cho lắm. Nhưng không sao, nhiều phim cũng có plot khi kể ra thì không make sense, thậm chí… nhảm nhí, nhưng miễn khán giả thấy ổn là phim xem như đã thành công một phần. Và cơ bản thì bạn Joel chưa gặp phải lời phàn nàn nào về plot của phim khi lội tag TBS trên tumblr (trong trường hợp bạn thắc mắc thì tag TBS chỉ toàn lời khen và gif các cảnh trong phim).

Không chỉ có plot khá… kỳ lạ, TBS còn là tập hợp những pha vừa rất absurd vừa rất epic mà người xem thường bị sự epic choáng ngợp đến mức nhanh chóng gạt sự absurd rành rành sang một bên. Có lẽ chưa có phim nào mà cảnh epic nhất, đáng nhớ nhất, mang tính hình tượng nhất đồng thời tràn đầy xúc cảm mãnh liệt lại là cảnh một người ném một chiếc… bồn cầu từ tầng năm khu chung cư xuống đầu một người đứng bên dưới. Bạn nghĩ Joel đang đùa? Không đâu. Đây là cảnh trong TBS1 được cho là đáng nhớ nhất trong cả hai phần phim: hai gã mafia người Nga còng tay Connor vào bồn cầu và lôi Murphy xuống con hẻm cạnh khu nhà để bắn. Nóng lòng cứu Murphy, Connor dùng sức lôi cả chiếc bồn cầu ra khỏi sàn nhà (chung cư quá xuống cấp chứ không phải Connor có siêu năng lực – đây không phải phim siêu anh hùng) và ném chiếc bồn cầu đó xuống gã mafia đang dí súng vào đầu Murphy rồi nhảy xuống, bất kể cú rơi từ độ cao như thế có thể giết chết mình.

Một ví dụ khác cho thấy TBS biết cách biến những tình huống absurd thành cực kỳ epic: trong phi vụ giết mafia đầu tiên, Connor và Murphy áp dụng phương pháp trèo ống thông gió – ‘học hỏi’ từ một phim hành động nào đó nào đó có Charlie Bronson mà Connor từng xem. Thiếu kinh nghiệm cộng với việc hai anh em cãi nhau như hai đứa nhóc lên năm khiến cả hai rơi khỏi ống thông gió và bị treo lủng lẳng trên trần nhà. Trong tư thế kỳ dị như vậy, cả hai diệt một hơi hết mười mấy mafia trong phòng mà bản thân không hứng một viên đạn nào. Vi diệu quá đúng không? Chính nhân vật còn thấy vi diệu nữa là khán giả chúng ta. Cũng trong phân đoạn này, lần đầu tiên khán giả được nghe lời cầu nguyện của hai anh em MacManus trước khi hành quyết mafia, lời cầu nguyện mà sau này trở thành dấu ấn của loạt phim TBS, được không ít người xem in ra và dán trong nhà. Phong cách này làm bạn liên tưởng ngay đến phong cách làm phim của Quentin Taratino và Robert Rodriguez. Ai còn nhớ cảnh nàng Cherry Darling xinh đẹp bốc lửa vừa múa vừa bắn zombie từ khẩu súng thay cho chiếc chân đã bị zombie gặm mất trong Planet Terror không?

Tuy đầy rẫy nhưng chi tiết hài hước đến… nham nhở (như súng cướp cò bắn chết con mèo – người yêu mèo không thích điều này), fan service để lôi kéo fan gái, fan trai còn diễn viên thể hiện nhân vật theo một cách khá over the top (điển hình là đặc vụ Paul Smecker (William Dafoe) trong TBS1), phim vẫn có những phân đoạn ‘sâu đíp’ và cảm động để phim không bị xếp vào mục ‘phim hài’ (hay ‘phim bựa’). Cảnh ném bồn cầu đã nhắc đến bên trên là ví dụ điển hình; ngoài ra, trong cả hai phần, mỗi khi nhân vật Il Duce (Billy Connolly) bước vào mạch truyện chính thì phim lập tức dẹp mọi chi tiết hài hước để trở nên nghiêm túc, thậm chí là tăm tối (tốc độ đảo mood chắc chỉ thua tốc độ nhảy thể loại của From Dusk till Dawn). Il Duce là ai mà ảnh hưởng đến phim dữ dội như vậy thì Joel xin dành lại cho các bạn có hứng thú muốn xem phim tự khám phá vì thân phận lẫn backstory của bác là hai twist chính của phần 1 và phần 2. Hẳn bạn sẽ ngạc nhiên khi biết bác là ai cho xem.

Bác già là Il Duce

Đáng kể nhất là phim đã đưa đến người xem một vấn đề để suy ngẫm sau khi dòng chữ ‘The end’ chạy ngang màn hình. ‘Saints’ trong tựa phim chỉ hai anh em Connor và Murphy và cả hai được ví là ‘những vị thánh’ bởi những người ủng hộ hành động tiêu diệt mafia của họ, trong đó có cả một nhóm cảnh sát, đặc vụ Paul Smecker và ‘đệ tử’ của anh ở phần hai, Eunice Bloom. Có người ủng hộ ắt có người phản đối; trong mắt những người phản đối, hai anh em MacManus là những psychopaths – kẻ điên thích giết chóc chính hiệu và nhận định của họ cũng không sai khi giết mafia cũng là giết người, mà trong Mười Điều Răn có “Thou shalt not kill” (“Ngươi không được giết người”). Phần 1 kết thúc bằng một đoạn mock documentary (phim giả tài liệu) nêu lên ý kiến trái chiều của người dân về hai vị ‘saints’ như một cách để lại câu hỏi liệu hành động của hai anh em là đúng hay sai, đáng ủng hộ hay lên án cho khan giả suy ngẫm và tìm ra câu trả lời cho riêng mình.

Được công chiếu đúng mười năm sau, phần 2 nghiêng về giải quyết ân oán giữa nhà MacManus với một tổ chức mafia chứ không phải tiêu diệt mafia random như phần 1. Cũng trong phần này, quan điểm ủng hộ hai anh em được thể hiện rõ hơn vì không chỉ một bộ phận người dân và cảnh sát, đặc vụ mà khúc cuối phim còn tiết lộ có cả một tổ chức (implied là Giáo Hội) đứng ra ngầm giúp đỡ họ. Tiếc là ảnh hưởng của tổ chức này như thế nào khán giả sẽ không được biết vì phần 3 hay TV series đến bây giờ vẫn chỉ là tin đồn.

(Không lẽ chờ đến năm 2019 sẽ làm?!)

Một yếu tố quan trọng làm nên sức hút của phim (thể hiện qua doanh thu hơn 30 triệu của phần 1 trong khi kinh phí chỉ khoảng 7 triệu) chính là quan hệ giữa hai anh em Connor và Murphy. Ở trên bạn Joel có nói anh em MacManus rất giống anh em Gecko bản truyền hình và chính điều này đã kéo bạn đến với TBS đúng không? Bắn súng như không cần biết đến ngày mai? Check. Chửi thề như đúng rồi? Check. Toàn đàn ông trưởng thành nhưng lời nói, hành vi thỉnh thoảng y hệt trẻ lên năm và thích xem phim hành động? Check và check. Quan trọng là cãi thì cãi, đánh thì đánh nhưng chẳng người xem nào có thể nghi ngờ tình cảm hai anh em dành cho nhau. Muốn động đến Murphy sao? Cẩn thận một chiếc bồn cầu từ không trung rơi xuống nhé. Không chỉ Connor và Murphy thân thiết trên phim, ngoài đời, Sean Patrick Flanery và Norman Reedus cũng là buddies lâu năm, không cần fan gái fan trai ship hai anh cũng tự đẩy thuyền bằng vô số câu và hành vi lôi thôi lầy lội vốn chỉ (nên) xuất hiện trong slash fic (18+). Nếu có ngày nào TBS được remake hay chuyển thành TV series như FDTD thì việc tìm được một cặp đôi có chemistry như Sean và Norman chắc chắn là một thử thách lớn.

“Thật ra tôi chịch Norm [Norman] khá thường xuyên.”

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Tóm lại, nếu bạn không ngại chửi thề, không ngại bắn nhau hay bạo lực, cũng không ngại phim có hai đực rực bắn hint cho nhau chứ tuyệt không có mảnh romance nào thì sao không xem thử TBS nhỉ?

[Cảm nhận] The Boondock Saints (1999), The Boondock Saints: All Saints Day (2009) (Hình ảnh lấy từ nhiều nguồn, chủ yếu là tumblr.com và Google) Warnings: cố gắng ngắn gọn nhưng không đảm bảo không lan man, spoilers là chuyện thường ngày ở huyện, ngôn ngữ thiếu nghiêm túc, có thể chen 2-3 thứ tiếng…

#connor macmanus #murphy macmanus #the boondock saints #the boondock saints: all saints day

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