#It’s a narrow time slot but oh boy am I gonna shove a lot in it
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97% of the time I post stuff talking about small England I need you all to know I am shoving all of those in between 449-793 AD.
#Post initial Anglo Saxon invasion#Pre Viking age#It’s a narrow time slot but oh boy am I gonna shove a lot in it#aph england#hws england#hetalia
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A Thing For Green Rings
Batbro x Kyle Rayner One-Shot
Word Count: 900 Warnings: None
Author's Note: Do you guys want the self-indulgent mini-fic where Kyle and Batbro meet? Because I wrote it for you. Enjoy! -Thorne
**********************************************************************
He shoved the phone between his ear and shoulder while he slotted the key into the lock, chuckling, “Yeah, Asghar, I know it’s going to cost a lot to replace the radar dish. That’s why I sent some money through the offshore accounts.”
You should send more. Two million isn’t enough. Besides, it’s time for some parts to be replaced and refitted anyway.
“Mmm, alright. I’ll throw in another few million.” He pulled the key from the lock and turned the doorknob, opening the door. “I’ll call you in a few days when the repairs are well under way, yeah?”
Sounds good, Captain. Have a good break. Make sure you take it easy these next few months. You deserve it.
“Hey, so do you, Asghar,” he replied, ending the call, and shoved his phone into his pocket while he kicked the door closed with his foot; Alfred hadn’t shown up at the entryway, so he figured the old butler was somewhere in the manor, probably cleaning up one of his brothers’ messes.
Sighing wistfully, he heaved the duffel bag higher over his shoulder and wandered through the hallway, only stopping when he heard laughter and what sounded like plastic controllers.
A smile came across his own lips as he turned the corner into the den, greeting, “Good morning Vietnam!”
Five heads swiveled around from the back of the couch, and he heard, “(Y/N)!” shouted from four of them as they scrambled over the back of the sofa, sprinting towards him; he dropped his bag and held out his arms, grinning like a dope as his four brothers collided with him.
He squeezed them tight. “It’s good to see you guys.”
“We didn’t know you were coming home early, (Y/N).” Jason said, pulling away to gaze at his older brother.
He shrugged. “Ah, our plane’s going through repairs, so I figured it’d be a good time to let everyone have time off until our next mission.”
“How long until you leave?” Dick asked.
“About three months.” (Y/N) ruffled Tim and Damian’s hair, smiling at how they were still holding tight to him. “Here that? I’m gonna be all up in your business for three whole months. Every date you go on…I’ll know about. Every friend you make…I’ll know about. Everything.”
Tim snorted and untangled himself from (Y/N). “You sound like dad.”
(Y/N) pressed a hand to his chest. “Someone call the doc, I think I’ve just been shot.” His brothers laughed and he glanced down at Damian. “You okay, kiddo?”
His face was muffled in the black camo tactical shirt. “I missed you.”
Smiling, he patted his youngest brother’s head. “I missed you too, kiddo.” He pulled Damian’s arms from his waist and knelt down. “I brought you back something.” (Y/N) dug in his pocket and pulled out a small piece of metal, shaped into a triangle, about the size of his pointer finger.
He handed it over. “We took a pit-stop in Rome and I found that while hiking near a river.”
Damian took it, staring at it intently. “This is an ancient arrowhead.”
“Mhm. Figured you could use it as a reference in your drawing books.”
“Thank you,” the boy murmured, curling his fingers around the piece, a small smile gracing his lips. “I like it.”
(Y/N) smiled in return. “I’m glad you do.” He turned his attention to the fifth young man sitting on the couch, who was watching the five brothers with his own smile; standing to his feet, he wandered around the couch, holding out his hand to shake. “I don’t think we’ve met. (Y/N) Wayne.”
The man stood, taking his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m—”
“Wait, don’t tell me,” he interrupted, gazing intently at him. “Hmm…you look between mine and Dick’s age, so you’re friends with him and probably Jason.”
“That’s debatable,” Jason snickered and (Y/N) huffed a laugh, turning over the man’s hand.
“And that’s a Green Lantern Power Ring.” He narrowed his eyes. “There’s six Lanterns from this Earth and I’ve met Hal, Guy, and John. You’re not Jessica and I don’t think you’re Simon.” (Y/N) caught his eye and smirked. “You must be Kyle Rayner, the torch bearing Green Lantern.”
Kyle seemed impressed, if his wide eyes and awestruck expression told him anything. “Uh, yeah. I am.”
(Y/N) hummed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. F.Y.I. I’m them,” he tipped his head to his brothers. “but more skilled and much better looking.” Winking, he raised Kyle’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “And I do have to tell you, I have a big thing for Green Lanterns. Especially handsome ones.”
The young man practically turned into a tomato and Dick shoved (Y/N) in the side. “Quit hitting on Kyle. You haven’t even been home ten minutes.”
He pulled away and stretched his arms over his head, making sure to flex while Kyle watched. “Good thing I’ll be home for three months then.” He winked again. “Gives me time to hit on him more.” (Y/N) turned and wandered back to the doorway; he picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder. “Let’s go out to eat for dinner tonight. I’ve been thinking about the Chinese restaurant in Chinatown for two weeks now.”
As he wandered away, Jason clapped Kyle on the back. “And that’s our older brother for you.”
Kyle merely blinked. “He’s not seeing anybody right?”
“Oh my God.”
#kyle rayner x reader imagine#kyle rayner x reader imagines#kyle rayner x reader#kyle rayner imagines#kyle rayner imagine#green lantern x reader imagine#green lantern x reader imagines#green lantern x reader#green lantern imagines#green lantern imagine#batfamily x reader imagine#batfamily x reader imagines#batfamily x reader#batfamily x batbrother imagine#batfamily x batbro imagine#batfamily x batbrother imagines#batfamily x batbro imagines#batfamily x batbro#batfamily x batbrother#batbro imagines#batbro#batbrother imagine#batbrother imagines#batfamily imagines#batfamily imagine#batfamily#dc comics#dc imagines#dc imagine#dick grayson
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The Gift (Part 2) - Nice Guy Eddie x Reader x Mr Blonde [Smut]
The Gift (Part 2) - Nice Guy Eddie x Reader x Mr Blonde [Smut]
Synopsis: Eddie takes you and Vic to Vegas with his dad for a meeting before the job Vic is supposed to pull. An accident is not so accidental.
Tagging: @this-is-mysuperwholockd-design @cocoawaltz @mysticaltimemachinewench @neganrpblog @ford-brosnan-spader
PART I
The Cabots' private jet hums, the tray in front of you vibrating ever so slightly from an air pocket. You're draped over Eddie's arm as he finishes off his second Old Fashioned, and Vic lays across from you both on a sectional seat.
"Thanks a lot for bringing me out here with you guys," Vic mentions, smoke between his fingers and a rum in the other.
"Hey Vic, you know how it is," Eddie replies, lighting his own cigarette, "You're pretty much family at this point."
From across the jet, Joe sniffs.
"Certainly a better son to me than you are, Eddie. Right hand knows what the fuck the left hand's doin'."
Eddie places the hand he had over your hand over his heart, turning back playfully. He's a little tipsy, you can tell from the slight flush in his cheeks, and he's having a good time. "Daddy, that hurt. And right in front of my girl, too."
Joe cracks a bit of a smile. "The dame's alright. She's just with you for ya money, anyway. Or, I should say, my money. Ain't that right sweetheart?"
"You know that's not true," you giggle, and walk your fingers up Eddie's exposed chest, "Well, not anymore, anyway."
Everyone chuckles, and Vic stretches out for a nap as Eddie orders you a Manhattan from the guy they've got working for them. You watch Vic, and find yourself rubbing your thighs together while you glimpse his biceps and exposed tattoo.
---
Once the jet touches down, you all take a car that brings you directly to the hotel-- you're staying at the Mandalay Bay.
"Should we really be staying in plain fucking sight like this?" Vic asks, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. Eddie slings an arm around his buddy.
"Vic, Vic! Prison's made you too fuckin' cautious. Meeting or no, we've gotta stay in style, just like old times, c'mon!"
"Life's been too good to you, Eddie," Vic smirks, "You oughtta get your ass busted, then you'll see how much of a spoiled little brat you really are." Eddie grins, and tries to deck him, but Vic's too fast, and gets Eddie first, the pair ending up in a tangle of limbs and struggle until Joe turns around, growls, and stomps up to them.
"Every time I turn around, you boys are makin' fools out of us all. What's the little lady gonna think?"
"Oh, I'm used to it, Mr. Cabot," you reply.
Joe snorts. "With my son? I guess. Watch over these grown ass idiots, will ya?!"
You salute playfully, and turn to them. You pout, tugging on Eddie's sleeve to get up to the room, and Eddie laughs.
"Speaking of spoiled little brats..." He stands up, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as he growls playfully, dragging you in for a kiss. You moan against his lips, deepening it, and Eddie's hand finds your leg, lifting it up to back you against a wall as you both moan and make out. Vic ducks his head, and smiles.
"I'll be going now."
When all of you are finally finished checking in, you get up to the rooms. Eddie unlocks suite 364, and Vic is next door in 365. Joe got a suite up a floor, because he wanted to be as far away from the "shenanigans and debauchery you three are bound to get up to". His policy was always: if I don't know what's going on, I don't have to worry. Unless it's about a job, in which case, somebody better fucking tell me what's going on, or bullets will find some skulls.
After dumping everything out on the bed and in the bathroom, you get changed into something a little sexier, and put on a ruby necklace Eddie bought you last month. You saunter out of the bathroom, fixing your hair, and Eddie looks up from the bed. You notice he's got his fly undone, and he's jerking off lazily as he looks at you.
"Hey, you look swell." He sighs, giving his hard on another stroke. "Got somethin' ready for you."
"Uh huh," you say, pretending not to give it a good look as you out some lipstick on.
"Mmmm... baby, is it wrong that I just wanna tear all that off ya, bend you over this bed, and fill that tight little pussy of yours?"
"Yes," you admonish, planning on teasing him to no end tonight, "I'm hungry, and I wanna do some slots. Then you can fuck me as hard as you want. Later."
Eddie runs a hand through his hair, squeezing his already throbbing dick. "Got myself a sugar baby to fuck me on my terms. Only fucks me on her terms. Fuckin' unbelievable." He shakes his head, still smiling at you, and you blow him a kiss. He heads into the bathroom, jerks himself off quickly, gets into some nicer clothes, and comes out, taking your arm.
"Let's go then, princess."
You go downstairs and out to the Bellagio buffet, then to the hotel casino. You wonder what Vic's doing... probably getting laid or hanging out at some dive bar on the strip with dancers.
You think back to when Vic fucked you, how good and rough he was. You're wet already thinking about it. Then you look over to your sugar daddy, how his shirt is unbuttoned, and think of his cock that he had just been touching. Fuck, just the idea of your situation got you beyond excited-- passed between two sexy men, who loved to make you feel amazing.
"You thinking about something in particular?" Eddie asks, focused on the slot machine.
"Why?" you mutter.
"When you stare at my chest that intently, I can only assume you're thinking about something pretty specific."
You smirk, and lean in. "On second thought, I'd rather the rest of the night we stay in. If I have to wait another minute, I'll need to go to the washroom and take care of myself."
Eddie looks over at you, and shakes his head. "What do I always tell you? Horny all the time, it's a damn miracle."
You bite your lip, and he cashes in, guiding you upstairs. You both get undressed, and Eddie's already half hard again, just from you rubbing him in the elevator on the way up. Your thoughts are racing, and tour blood is rising as you shimmy your panties down, a wet spot already prevalent in them.
"Fuck, love that body," Eddie murmurs, welcoming you onto the bed, and you force him down into the pillows, turning around and spreading your legs. Reverse cowgirl feels really good, and Eddie always seems to cum extra hard with this position.
"Yeah, baby, fuck yeah, do it," Eddie nods, and you sink down on him, moaning and arching your back as you finally make it down to his hips.
"You're so..." you gasp, "S-So big, daddy..."
"Daddy loves feeling his girl's tight little cunt," Eddie breathes, "That's it, sweetheart... fuck daddy's cock good..."
You start to whine and whimper, working yourself back onto his dick as he spanks your ass repeatedly, and just as you're approaching your first orgasm, the door beeps, and in lumbers--
"Shit," Vic smiles. "Wrong key card."
"Your room's next to ours," Eddie sighs, and you come to a halt on him. Vic eyes you, and Eddie sighs. "Take a picture asshole, it'll last longer."
Vic keeps staring, and you make eye contact with him, shuddering. Eddie notices how turned on you are being stared at by his friend, so he narrows his eyes.
"You busy?"
"Me?" Vic shakes his head, already dropping his coat, "Nah." He closes the door, and stops, hands on his belt. "Eddie... I understand if this is crossing a limit. I can go jerk off in the shower, I know you shared her with me once, but that was a one time thing, I mean..."
"Hey. Like I said," Eddie smirks, twirling a lock of your hair, "What's mine is yours." Vic and Eddie both look at you for approval, and you nod fast, suppressing a groan, so Vic takes his belt off, beginning to undress as well.
"Oh," you moan, and Vic climbs onto the bed, that domineering gaze back in his dark eyes.
"Alright. How the fuck are we gonna do this?" Eddie mutters, and you climb off of him. Vic takes his pants down, pumping himself a few times, and Eddie blinks. "Holy motherfuck. No wonder she gets wet every time she sees you, you're fucking hung!"
"You like it, Eddie?" Vic teases, "You want a taste? You want a little taste?"
"Shit, I might just take you up on that someday, buddy," Eddie laughs, and goes in on you from behind, kissing down your neck hard. Vic takes the front, tracing his hand down between your breasts, down to your belly, and to your throbbing arousal. You moan a little, and gasp suddenly as Eddie pushes three fingers into your wetness from behind.
"You snooze you lose, pal," he grins, and Vic smirks, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He moves down to your nose, and then tentatively kisses you on the lips, softly and with feeling. Your cheeks are flushed from Eddie fingering you, but the action makes you blush even more.
"Eddie," Vic says slowly.
"What?"
"I'm not just gonna jerk off watching you two go at it, I'm not a fuckin' pervert. I wanna fuck (y/n)."
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with my dick, shove it up my own asshole, Victor?" Eddie snaps, and Vic sets off into giggles as you grin.
"Let me suck you off, daddy."
Eddie suddenly looks interested again. "Yeah? You wanna suck daddy off?"
"Mhmm," you nod, and Eddie nods, moving around to the front of you. You get in between his legs, bending over, and you nearly choke as Vic thrusts into you from Eddie's former position. You lower your lips, and start to suck Eddie off as Vic pounds in, the stimulation of Vic's big cock inside you with the progress you and Eddie had made prior to his "accidental" entry working you toward a mind blowing climax.
"That's so fucking good, baby girl," Eddie praises you, "Daddy's gonna cum sooner than he thought."
"Cum in my mouth, daddy," you breathe, and go back down on him, moaning as Vic finds your clit, rubbing and massaging it just right.
"Oh, oh, oh," Eddie stutters, shoving his hips up into your mouth, and Vic starts to grunt behind you, fucking you so hard you're being pushed forward into Eddie.
"Cool it, Vic, she's gonna--" Eddie is suddenly cut off as he cums in your mouth, hot and thick down your throat. He grabs your hair, holding on as you whimper and moan in pleasure around him, and when he's all finished, he looks down at you.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?"
"About a billion fucking times, Edward," Vic shoots back, and thrusts again. You cry out, and Vic brings a hand down on your ass. Now that you're done sucking Eddie off (and Eddie is laying on his back, sated), Vic takes the opportunity to flip you around, lifting your legs high to rest on his shoulders as he watches his cock go in and out of you. Almost sobbing now, you repeat his name, until he pounds one more time and leans down.
"Such a dirty little cockslut. Loved getting fucked by two cocks tonight, honey? You made us both cum, from fucking your mouth and your pussy. How's that feel?"
"Mmm, amazing," is all you can moan.
"Yeah?" Vic asks, "You like that? 'Sat good, that hit the spot?"
"Vic-- Vic, Vic--"
"Alright. Cum for me."
You climax hard, your voice going hoarse from the screaming. Eddie watches you come apart in awe, and Vic pulls out and cums on your stomach.
You lay there in a heap, the three of you, and finally, as usual, Eddie breaks the silence.
"I haven't felt that good in my entire life."
You have to agree.
---
Joe sits at the dinner table the next night, sipping some wine.
"Meeting went well, Joseph?" Vic asks.
"Sure did, Vic. Sure did. Eddie was in a strangely good mood, didn't threaten the other guys once. Can't explain it." You smirk, and Vic ducks his head, holding in a laugh. Eddie has to fight not to laugh as well, and Joe just rolls his eyes. "I don't wanna know."
"No," you smile, "You really don't."
#reader x michael madsen#michael madsen x reader#michael madsen#mr blonde#mr blonde x reader#reader x mr blonde#reservoir dogs#nice guy eddie#nice guy eddie imagine#nice guy eddie x reader#reader x nice guy eddie#eddie cabot#eddie cabot x reader#reader x eddie cabot#joe Cabot#vic vega x reader#reader x vic vega#chris penn#Chris Penn x reader#reader x Chris penn#reservoir dogs smut#reservoir dogs imagine#reservoir dogs x reader#mr blonde smut#nice guy eddie smut#tarantino#quentin tarantino imagine#quentin tarantino fanfic#tarantino fanfiction#michael madsen fanfiction
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and the air’s getting thin
@crown-of-the-circus-king asked:
Okay I'm a slut for hurt!Barnum, especially if Phillip is being super protective. If you're looking for a more specific suggestion, maybe there's some sort of accident in the circus building that injures him (I don't mean a black eye, I mean broken bones and stuff bc something is wrong with me for me to seek this stuff out). If you're not comfortable with that, that's okay! Have a lovely day :)
/Ayy nothing’s wrong with you ;) thank you so much, I hope you enjoy it!
This got super long, I might write a sequel if anyone would be interested /
Unbeta’ed, I’m not a native speaker
title from “Who we are” by Tristan Prettyman
(word count: 3069)
[...] But right now is all the matters I could never, love another, like I loved you And we don’t have to understand Fate always has the upper hand And fate choose me and you
this one get’s a special dedication as @fangirl-and-rider fucked up irl bc of barlyle and this is now an attempt to cheer them up
_____________________________________
The circus is buzzing with energy. The troupe prepares for the evening show that takes place in about three hours. They twirl through choreographies, set up what they later have to get out in the ring and adjust everything to prevent last minutes stress. Philip bustles around them, mentally going through his checklist of preparations. He needs to tell P.T. that they are slowly getting out of glitter and have to restock on show supplies in general.
It’s then that they hear a horrifying crash. It only takes seconds until everyone is on their feet, sprinting towards the noise that came from somewhere above them. The upper floors of the building are mainly used for storage, as the floors aren’t very stable. He might not be the most athletic, but adrenaline pushes Philip to the front of their group scurrying up the stairs. They stop appalled.
What once was the staircase to the third floors is a mess of wall fragments, dust and splinters. Anne barely stops Lettie in time, otherwise the bearded woman would have stepped right into some broken glass.
“Oh my god. Please tell me no one went up here.”, Constantine breathes.
It’s all it takes to get Philip out of his shocked state.
“Phineas! Can you hear me?!”, he carefully pushes splintered wood to the side and ducks under some sharp metals. There’s glass from the windows and other sharp splitter all over the ground and walls – or what remains of the walls.
“Philip, no, you’re gonna get hurt.”, Lettie tries to pull him back.
“I am getting hurt? P.T. might be dead! Let me go, get down everyone.”
He finds a crack in between the ruins and squeezes through, one arm over his face as to not get any sharp edges into the eyes. On the other side of the burial like slot it is surprisingly bright. Philip can see why and gasps. Half of the roof collapsed with the top floor. Bricks and dust are all Philip sees. Everything else is buried underneath. No.
“Phineas! Are you here? Answer me!”, he struggles forward and pushes parts of the walls and ceiling out of his way. “Phin, don’t you dare to be dead. I’ll find you and I’ll kill you personally.”
Philip is fighting back tears, his whole form is covered in dust and slivers of wood bore into his hands, arms and legs. He needs to find P.T. he has no choice, he needs to.
“Phin! For God’s sake, gimme’ a sign.”, he tells the vacant air around him. Suddenly he hears the softest noise. He swirls around, not caring about the sharp edges and fragile ground. A cough, there it is again. After a few more steps Philip finds himself confronted with what might have been some supporting framework for the building. Philip kneels down, he brushes some of the dirt away and can shove over some crumbly sections of the walls that collapsed.
“Phin, can you hear me? You don’t need to speak, I’m here.”, Philip soothes and carries on to work bricks and pieces out of his way. He reaches what appears to be a small cavity.
“Oh God...okay, no, don’t move. We’ll get you out of there. Oh thank God, you are alive.” Philip has to tear his eyes from the battered body to get his head clear. He forces himself into an analytical state of mind. The floor is to some extend robust, there is enough space to shove away all that covers the circus king beneath.
He jerks away when a strong hand touches his shoulder. It is some of the men from the troupe and what seem to be some fire fighters and a doctor. Numbly Philip nods his thanks. The troupe thought ahead and immediately sought help, when Philip leaped into the danger area.
Philip lets himself be lead out of the destroyed floor, although his eyes remain fixed on the small hollow that prevented P.T. from getting killed.
One hour until the show starts. Everyone stands at the arena, hesitant to take any action. It’s Charles, who raises his voice.
“What do we do now? Cancel the show?”, all eyes wander to Philip. The young man might stand right next to them bodily, but his mind is miles away. At the hospital they rushed Phineas to.
“Philip?”, Lettie softly speaks to him directly and steps forward. Only when they are facing each other closely, does his gaze shift and he focuses back on reality.
“What?”, he croaks.
“Yes, we cancel, of course. Go, Philip.”, Lettie decides then and shoos everyone away. O’Malley heads off to close the ticket booth and spread the news that there will be no show tonight. Lettie nudges the young man tenderly as he drifted off again.
“Sorry, Lettie. I- what did you want?”, he sighs and buries his face in his hands. He notices just now all the cuts and bruises along his hands up to his shoulders. There might be more along his back and on his feet. But that’s nothing he feels or cares for.
“I want you to go. No show today. Go to the hospital, we are coming around later too. Maybe not all at once.”, she smiles sympathetically. Philip blinks at her. Once her words sunk in, he speeds out of the doors. Lettie looks after him, before she joins the others. They have a lot of work to do and probably should get out of the building, just to be sure.
Philip reaches the big building faster than he thought was possible. He flies up the stairs, only stops once to ask a nurse, where he is. ‘Who’ she had asked and cost him time, Philip has no patience for discussions. ‘Mr Barnum’. The nurse points down the hallway, while she’s still describing the way, Philip is already taking off.
A white door is his last barrier. And a doctor, an elderly man with glasses.
“Slow down, boy. Can I help you?”
“I need to see him, please. I- is he okay, I need to-“
“Okay, calm down.”, the doctor talks and his voice has a somewhat calming effect. Philip inhales deeply, though still shaky. He nods and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I apologize. I want to see P.T. Barnum, a nurse told me, he is here?”
“That is correct. Are you family?”, the doctor asks.
“Yes. Please, can I go in?” he doesn’t hesitate for a second.
The doctor sighs and nods, but doesn’t step aside. He waits until Philip looks at him again, the young man’s eyes already fixed on the door.
“He got some bad injuries. I think you know that, just, be prepared.” He finally let’s Philip pass.
Philip enters the room quietly, afraid, P.T. might be asleep and doesn’t want to startle him. Antiseptics lay heavily in the air. Philip doesn’t take his time to look at the room, he can’t. All his focus is on the motionless body on a narrow bed. There are some plain stools and Philip gets one to sit down next to P.T. He finds himself unable to sit down. His legs are stuck to the ground, urging Philip to take a good look. He doesn’t want to.
The ringmaster is covered in bandages. Around a patch of gauze on the man’s left shoulder Philip sees large purple bruises, some already yellowing. Angry scratches cover his upper arms, two of his fingers wrapped tightly in more layers of bandage. To some degree Philip is relieved the thin blanket doesn’t allow his eyes to see how Phineas’ body looks farther down. Eventually he sits down and decides to keep his gaze on the man’s face. His jaw is bruised and nose slightly crooked. Philip can only assume he broke it. There’s a cut above his right eye, splitting his eyebrow nearly in the middle. Philip still can’t imagine anything more beautiful, despite all the broken parts and bloody cuts.
Philip props his elbows up on his knees and leans forward. He is prepared to stay here for a while. Maybe fortunately, he is too shocked, to really think about what happened. About what could have happened. As for now, he is grateful, Phineas is alive.
“...’Lip?”
Philip’s head shoots up so fast it hurts his neck. P.T. tilts his head to the side and crookedly grins at the younger man. Philip is unable to reply, he stares.
“...hey. I heard...you thinking.”, he explains and his eyes travel down his body. Philip observes the emotions flitting over the damaged face. Surprise, relief, annoyance, hurt, relief. The circus king finishes his body evaluation, he looks back at Philip. Either Philip says something now, or P.T. might think he froze. Philip still can’t get a sound out, he stares at P.T. and helplessly feels his eyes water. Although his conscious didn’t allow the thought, some part of him must have prepared him to never see or hear the other man speak again. That he lost him forever.
“Am I in...heaven?”, P.T. asks and Philip pulls himself together. He smiles.
“I’m afraid to say no. Welcome back.”, more words than he trusted himself to produce in the first place.
“Because...you said, you-would...kill me. Thought I might...be dead.”
“Th-that was a joke. I was so worried, I didn’t know what to do, what I would do if-“, Philips voice breaks and with it the walls that kept his tears at bay.
“It...is fine. Come here?”, Phineas faintly pleads.
Philip looks him over with hesitance; he doesn’t want to hurt him more. P.T.’s twitching fingers and dark eyes pull him up on his feet although he remains reluctant. He gently sits down at the edge of the bed and let’s his fingers brush over Phineas’ own. The older man sighs.
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.”, Philip smiles in spite of the tears rolling over his face in hot streams. The drop on the blanket and Phineas’ wrist.
“I’ll be..okay. Just need...a bit...time. Show...tomorrow?”
Philip gapes at the sly grin the ringmaster dares to wear. He closes his hand around P.T.’s and wipes his tears away with his other hand. He shakes his head and bows down, their noses nearly touching.
“You must be kidding me.”, Philip hiccups through the new tears.
“I’m gonna tie you to this bed if I have to.”, he adds with a grin that develops into a lightened laugh.
“I’d like to...see you...try. Philip?”
“Yes?”
“Come closer.”, P.T. repeats himself and Philip wonders a second too long. As a result, Phineas tugs at his hand and Philip, not wanting to have P.T. move at all and rather rest his body, complies hurriedly. He all but falls into a tender kiss.
“You need to get better, you know? Rest and heal.”, Philip pouts when he draws back. Phineas sighs exasperated, only to groan. Philip concludes that even breathing must hurt him.
“I’m fine. What I need...is you.”, he replies. Philip closes his eyes and places a soft kiss on P.T.’s forehead. He keeps their hands linked together, but get’s back on the stool. He drags it so close he is practically on the bed, but he doesn’t want to strain the hurt man’s body any further.
Two weeks later the troupe is unsettled. Over the last days they put on the show again, Philip came back to take over P.T.’s part and they really needed the money. Luckily some inspectors told them, the building was safe. They spent days sorting through the destroyed upper parts.
Yesterday P.T. announced he won’t stay any longer at that ‘Godforsaken hospital and if he has to crawl out of it’. As it is, Philip doesn’t like the thought of him crawling out there. So he offered to pick him up and they’d make their way to the circus.
During his visits – Philip spent most of his time at P.T.’s side – he registers the full extent of injuries. Despite his snarky attitude, P.T. was far from fine. As he continued to claim so, Philip preferred talking to a doctor. The elder man he met the first day helped him out with some information: Broken nose. Gashes of various degrees on arms, legs and back. Bruised left hand. Remaining scar on the right eyebrow. Bruised rips. Sprained ankle. Possible partial hearing loss on the right ear.
Philip cried again that day.
But today is better. P.T. annoyed Philip for so long, he finally gave in.
“I swear to God, if you move any slower we’re going backwards.”
“Shut up, at least I care about you.”
The troupe shares amused grins, when they hear two familiar voices approaching. Shortly after, Philip pushes the doors open. He supports P.T. with an arm around his waist. For a change, P.T. uses his show cane – to brace himself and do what Philip told him, to treat his body with care.
“You are back!”, Lettie whoops and someone opens up a bottle of champagne.
“Are you serious? No alcohol.”, Philip says and shoots a dark look at Charles, who is in the middle of picking up some glasses.
“What, why?”, P.T. asks and tries to walk the rest of the way without Philip. A stabbing pain in his leg that seems to simmer up to his damaged rips stops him.
“Wait for me, you loser.”, Philip grumbles and nearly lifts P.T. up. They carefully sit down with the others and Phineas continues to cling to Philip for a while. Philip isn’t sure whether it is just to calm his nerves, but he takes it.
“So, you’re back for the next show tomorrow?”, Charles jokes. Philip bites his tongue this time. They are all happy that the show master is out of the hospital and doing comparatively well.
“Ah, I fear, I can’t.”, P.T. grins and wants to reach out. The champagne might be forbidden, but the troupe put a lot of effort into a little table full of snacks, such as sandwiches, some biscuits and fruit.
“No, you stay, where you are.”, Philip stops him and gently draws him closer. When he is sure, P.T. won’t move, he grabs some food and hands it over. P.T. rolls his eyes.
“Honestly, every sentence of yours starts with ‘no’ nowadays.”, the older man teases and takes a bite of the apple Philip got him. “Do you wanna feed me too?”
“This is not funny. Please be careful.”, Philip grumbles.
P.T. just laughs and loops his arm around Philip. The younger man doesn’t meet his eyes and listens to the troupe talking. Well, he tries. He has to concentrate to not overanalyse Phineas. His shoulder and ribs are gradually getting better. Some gashes bled again yesterday. Philip knows now how to switch and apply bandages. They can’t do much about the ankle, except for using the cane.
“Hey, Philip. Dear, you’re a greater mother hen than I am.”, Lettie grins at him.
“I, what?”, Philip murmurs. He must have done what he tried to avoid. He tears his eyes from Phineas and turns to Lettie with pink dusted cheeks. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. We just talked about the next weeks and that it might get a bit complicated.”
“How so?”, Philip wonders and fully engages in the topic.
“Well, with P.T. back-“
“Wait what? Don’t tell me you want him back in the ring now, I-“
“Yes, hello. I am here too, ‘Lip.”, P.T. intervenes. Philip simply puts his hand over the man’s mouth, then turns back to Lettie with an accusing glare.
“Are you insane?”
“No, you didn’t listen to me. The problem is, with P.T. out of the hospital you’ll look out for him constantly. Are you able to leave him alone for the shows and rehearsals?”, Lettie asks, because she knows Philip too well.
“Uhm...-ew, hey!”, Philip pulls back his hand, P.T. licked at that moment.
“Calm down, you need to rest.”, P.T. dismisses Philip’s response with a lopsided grin. He assumes rightly Philip hates this attitude. Especially because Philip might be consequent with health care, but in reality he can’t deny the show man anything. Insulted, the younger man leans back.
“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry. Tonight is supposed to be fun, not worries.”, P.T. announces and gains approving toasts from everyone who got some champagne anyway.
“So, what’s been going on?”, P.T. asks. He knows most of the happenings of course, as he got visits from them every other day. It is still nice to share stories and smile together. P.T. falls back against Philip’s side and suppresses a pained exhale. Maybe he should be a bit more careful. As if Philip has read his mind, he pulls the ringmaster closer and – when he made sure he sits comfortable and so that it’s good for his shoulder and leg – fits himself against the man’s side.
They talk late into the night, Philip laughs here and there, when he pays attention. Which is not too often, because he is focused on Phineas. The injured man talks as excited and dramatic as ever, eats some more and laughs at stories from Anne and W.D. Philip allows himself to relax a little.
Everyone seems content and the night really turns out better, than Philip expected it. Not that he didn’t trust the troupe to organize a nice evening, but he thought it might get more exhausting. It is on the contrary very easy-going. The topics shift, switch and always remain light-hearted. Philip feels his mind wander and quickly notices P.T. wears a similar expression. The taller man turns and slumps down. Philip first thinks it is to relieve some pressure from his leg. While that might be a reason, it was clearly not the reason. Philip sighs and attempts to conceal a pleased smile when Phineas places feather-light kisses on his neck and jaw. He weaves his fingers through the dark hair and closes his eyes.
Philip feels P.T.’s kisses getting longer and slower and slightly nudges him. He doesn’t want to cause a scene. When P.T. stops his actions and simply lays his head on Philip’s shoulder, the younger man grins. Non-verbal communication appears to work. He looks down on Phineas and notices the man has fallen asleep.
“You two are way too adorable.”, Lettie declares. Philip grins embarrassed, but doesn’t stop caressing P.T.’s curls. He sighs contently. They would make it work and P.T. would get better. They just had to take their time.
#ayyyy#someone talked to meee#barlyle#pt barnum#philip carlyle#fanfiction#prompt#phillip carlyle#the greatest showman#greatest showman#tgs#that was long lol#leave feedback
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New York: Day 3
ROSE: -She steps out of their temporary base in the alleyway to examine their surroundings-- some of the humans and paler, lumpier humans are milling around with a lot more purpose than before. Tugging on door handles and banging on windows, still silent and still with those awful, rictus grins. The blimp is flying lower than ever before, low enough that it'd almost seem like it would snag on the red towers high above them.-
JAMISON: =Has a bat now, he probably found it. 5 bats. Everyone gets a bat, but he watches the blimp=
JUDE: -ENHANCE ZOOM on his binoculars, eyeballing that blimp...-
ROSE: -holding a bat-
ROSE: ...Jamison, why on earth do these appear to be deemed contraband?
JOHN: -he's eyeing all the towers in the area. did they decide a place to land the zepp if they get it?-
JOEY: =She has one of those heavy duty flashlights in one hand. It is off, so as not to draw attention, but it's solid enough to whack a mole if need be=(edited)
KANKRI: -Peeping out from behind Rose at the blimp lowering. Yikes, whoever is driving it is not very careful.-
JAMISON: I haven't the slightest but I can say they've got a bit of a heavier hit if you catch my drift! =nudge nudge=
ROSE: I... yes. I gather. ROSE: I'll keep that in mind.
ROSE: Something feels off about this.
[ ALSO: REGARDING ZEPPLIN PLANS: mostly to get out of the city. They'll find that it's VERY large, and mostly consisting of buildings too hostile to tether it too, and, worst of all, with some pretty steep walls penning everyone in. ]
JAMISON: I believe it's fair to say plenty is off here, however they are rattling things in anticipation.... I wonder if some sort of drop off is going to be made from the blimp to the masses.
ROSE: ...Do you suppose that would make this an ideal time?
JAMISON: Better than any I'd say!
ROSE: -She looks towards John, and nodding.- Right then. ROSE: We will try to non-violently depose the blimp captains and-- see things from there.
JOEY: =she nodded= agreed
ROSE: Presumably see to taking things violently, if our past experiences are any indicator.
JAMISON: =Lifts net= Right-o!
JOHN: allllrighty.
JOHN: -rubs kankri's back for luck.-
JOEY: =sighs= i was somewhat hoping for the utilization of stealth, but =hefts the flashlight in her hand= lets do it!
ROSE: -She's gonna hold her hands up, attempting to lift Jamison and Joey with her, psionically.- ROSE: We can certainly try. Don't hold too much hope.
ROSE: This scheme is well in the vein of harebrained.
JOHN: if something goes wrong don't be afraid to scatter. we have our comms!(edited)
JAMISON: =THINKS LIGHT THOUGHTS to try and help her= We'll be fine and have it swung about in two shakes Missy! :D
[ They begin to RISE INTO THE AIR. It's probably fair to mention that the air is a bit... hazy, perhaps. But it isn't the typical kind of smog, even if it stings the lungs a bit as they ascend. ]
JAMISON: =HIS LUNGS ARE READY=
[ Something does, however, seem to be very off. The people still aren't paying much attention to them, but some seem to have given up on trying to maintain their grinning faces and broken into an outright fleeing panic, as the lights illuminating the massive flavortown blimp turn red. ]
JOHN: -Although Rose's psiionics lift them up, John is helping support with the Breeze, which billows under them. It feels light, fresh and tingly, helping to dispel some of the dirty feeling of the grease and haze.-
[ It does alleviate the stinging sensation! For a few moments, anyways. Something on the underside of the blimp seems to visibly open, slots visible even from their relatively low altitude as, rather suddenly, a massive, thick cloud of red smoke billows towards the ground with tremendous force. ]
ROSE: Wh-
JAMISON: =TAKES A BREATH, BRING IT. TOSS HIM IN!=
JOEY: =she's coughed from all this dirty air, but once the people below began to scatter, she glanced around wildly for the source=
[ It hits VERY SUDDENLY and very hard, stinging the eyes, nose, and any open wounds, if they have them, with a gale force to send them tumbling directly back onto the street. It smells of-- well, a lot of different kinds of spicy peppers, with disturbing chemical aftertaste that's incredibly hard to place. ]
[ The haze seems to absolutely COVER the ground as they hit it, no less, nothing visible scarcely ten feet in front of them, in all directions. ]
JAMISON: =Good thing he doesn't have eyes but he does cough because GOODNESS that sure is something. Spits out what got into his mouth and goes to stand back up, looking down at himself= E-gad! We've been SEASONED!
JAMISON: =Shakes fist at blimp= YOU BEST COME TENDERIZE THIS BEEF, IT'S MIGHTY TOUGH!!
JOEY: =wheezes, coughing, eyes watering= fuck is this
[ Some of the ambient noises of the city grow a bit... rhythmatic in their movements. It's still painful and difficult to see-- but something IS coming. ]
JOHN: -Oh no. Thsi is the exact opposite of a good thing for John. He feels like he's drowning, like his brain is shutting down. For a second he almost drops out of the air.-
JOEY: going out on a limb here....maybe we should run too?
JOHN: -But the Breeze catches him. Thakfully it has a bit of a mind of it's own.-
JAMISON: =Wipes his glasses and looks around, READY 2 TUSSLE= Run from what??? NEVER.
ROSE: -She's too busy coughing to add much input, as slowly shambling figures begin to become visible through the sickly red haze.-
[ If the other ones were zombies... then these creatures were a lot more zombier than that. It's hard to tell through the smoke, but their bodies-- golden brown, like they've spent a round in a deep frier-- with chunks of skin replaced entirely by breading, and dripping some kind of hot sauce or marinara. It's very hard to tell. If it wasn't hot sauce before, it was now. ] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R3diEBFsjo8&feature=youtu.be
JOEY: =she feels a bit sick, actually=
JAMISON: =He's gonna charge in and fight them, there's no.... wait... his kids..... ERR......= Hop on up to the roof my ducklings!! I've got this!!!
JUDE: -WHAT THE FUCK ACTUALLY-
[ You've got THREE WHOLE ZOMBIES ON YOU, ACTUALLY. ]
JOEY: =um no????=
JOEY: =high kicks a zomboo in the FACE=
JAMISON: =PUNCHES ONE IN THE MOUTH= Chew on this you battered nightmare! =Kicks another one=
[ The zombie's come apart in a cloud of even more spicy dust, even as they continue to circle around the group in what can plainly be called a HORDE. ]
JOHN: -FWOOOOOOSH. For a sec, he focuses on BLOWING ALL THIS SHIT OFF HIMSELF. So he can see, and breath and think. The wind he summmons is so powerful that it also rockets him forward. Then he ROCKETS BACK DOWN TOWARDS THE GROUND, intent on dive bombing one of those zombies.-(edited)
JOHN: -he brings along with him a wave of air.-
JAMISON: =Brandishies his bat and SWINGS= HA! All dus-! =COUGH COUGH, SWINGS BAT AND SMASHES WHILE COUGHING=
JOEY: =laughing at her dad's antics= hahaha-=coughcoughcough= haha!
JOEY: =she bonks another zombie with her flashlight=
[ The air brings some THANKFUL RESPITE from the stinging cloud, even if it's already seeping back down in incredibly thick waves. A breath of fresh, untainted air and a moment of clarity from the haze, and the group can see some manner of vehicle on the west end of the street-- it doesn't look like the trailers ferrying meat before, but there are distinctive headlights and large, thick tires for plowing through the horde. ]
JOEY: (nope nope nope nope nope nope) =she's out, she's shoving and kicking zombies out of the way while trying to make a break for it away from this truck. Grabbing Jude's hand - she wasn't planning on getting separated from him again, Joey peered though the painful haze to try to get to a narrow enough alley the truck could not access.=
[ Joey can find alleyways, SORT OF, but the rapidly diminishing sphere of clean air makes it hard to judge how wide they are. ]
JUDE: -reeling back in whatever direction is AWAY from the vehicle, but his hand seems to instinctively reach out to take joey's-- like they had the same plan. he gladly follows her.-
JAMISON: =!! He's going to get out of the way= Quick suggestion, we take that truck there! It seems very useful!
JOEY: =She takes one anyway, taking the first turn she can, continuing to weave through the streets in order to lose the truck. Is anyone following? She's not turning to look.=
JOHN: -He just hates everything. This spicy hell is fucking up hi swhole life. he won't feel right for quite a while after breathing all that crap in. and the headlights cutting into his eyes is the last straw. he YELLS ANGRILY and charges, a little ways above the truck, swept along by all the wind power he can muster.-
JOHN: -Iiiiiiit's hammertime-
[ IS HE HITTING THE TRUCK ]
JOHN: -ye-
[ I AM GONNA HAVE TO ROLL A DICE FOR THIS ONE ]
JOHN: -ROLL FOR MICHAEL BAY-
[ It's not quite Michael Bay, no, but it's something PRETTY SIMILAR if nothing else. ]
ROSE: -She is not following, actually, she is probably going with jamison TOWARDS the truck.-
JAMISON: =Time to take the truck, but yes, he's running for it. What are the doors on this bad boy like?=
[ John's hammer collides with some sort of armored windshield-- it's plain from the force of the impact and the explosion of shards that this isn't just any kind of street cleaning vehicle, that's for sure. There's a troll inside, in fact, whose eyes go wide as he sees John, Rose, Jamison and the chemicals seeping in, letting out a loud "O|H| FUCK!!!!!" as he whips out something from his side-- something that looks like a gun, but with a bit of a sci-fi kick to it. The sci-fi kick being something analogous to a tazer mixed with a bolt of actual lightning.]
[also, the doors are, unfortunately, slightly too far away. The breeze moved John REAL dang fast to the truck.]
JAMISON: =HE HAS A GUN TOO MOTHERFLIPPER, a POTATO GUN. FWUNK!! Fires at the window=
JOHN: -practically meets eyes with the guy. hi there! :O but when he sees he has a gun, he dislodges his hammer (jn a spray of broken glass) and swiftly retreats to the TOP of the truck, not doing naything else for a moment while he tries to catch his balance.-
JUDE: -peeps out from the alley, squinting to try to get a better sense of what's happening out there- hhhhnng...
KANKRI: -He's wheezing because zombies and pepper haze but also john what the FUCK-
JOHN: what? he's HELPING.-
JAMISON: =John your buddy seems worried=
KANKRI: -You better not get yourself killed or hurt or anything, Kankri is a nervous wreck in the alley.-
KANKRI: -Hes all the way at the edge of it watching in horror.-
SOME GUY: AUG|H|!!! -The troll ducks, slamming something on the console of his truck. A big red button by all appearances. The ground under John seems to shift-- something beginning to open up under his feet. It's rather fast, swinging upwards, and looking like a large metal bin-- with a swift scooping motion it would slam John into its empty insides, before attempting to slam DOWN on top of Rose and Jamison, penning them all in.-
JOHN: -YELPS IN SURPRISE AND DISMAY. THER EHE GOES.-
KANKRI: -HHHHHHHHH.-
[ They're all probably dismayed. AND IN A BIG PILE ON TOP OF EACH OTHER. In a weird metal bucket coffin. ]
JOHN: -PROBABLY COUGHING IN THEIR FACES, HIS EYES STREAMING. sorry he can't help it.-
ROSE: -it's ok she's pretty bad too here-
JAMISON: =CONFINED.= Oh of all the! =How HEAVY? is it? Jamison is going to immediately try to hoist it back up with his weird old-man strength=
JOEY: o_o
[ PRETTY. The machine groans and struggles, but it seals shut underneath them, too, before swinging upwards and tossing them into the back, like a REALLY SHITTY GARBAGE TRUCK. ]
JOHN: -FLWUMP-
[ It is a disorienting tumble for everyone involved, even as the troll driving it can be heard coughing and cursing and rousing the truck to move again, faster. Bashing into the sides of buildings as he convulses a bit. ]
JOHN: -ENRAGED YELLING- HEY LET US OUT YOU -COUGH- PILE OF CRUSTY TAINTS!!!
JAMISON: =Dumped in here into this garbage. What's in here?=
[ Oh, they're still in the bin. It's just that the BIN is dumped in the back. It appears to have gotten a new bin attached to the front as it wobblingly and shakily lurches on its uneen path forward. Gonna attempt to run down Kankri and scoop him TOO. ]
JOEY: psst!!! JOEY: jellybean!
JOHN: -SLAMMING ON THE WALLS AND COUGHING AND SCREAMING- your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!!! also, you're a fuck face!!!!!!
KANKRI; -This is not good. This is so far from good, what does he DO?? He takes half a step out of the allyway because John is in trouble and he needs to do SOMETHING-- Oh wait, nope here comes the vehicle. Hes going to try and run, but lets all be honest with ourselves, hes not fast enough to get away. Hes getting scooped.-
[ SCOOP. He tumbles into the back, and his container bashes into the other three's.-
JOEY: =jellybean, nooooo=
JAMISON: =UGHHH, actually stops and thinks when they're BASHED=
JOHN: -shuts up for a sec because he's slammed with a kankri bomb-
KANKRI: -SORRY GUYS.-
JUDE: oh JESUS
JUDE: they're going to deep fry us too!!
JUDE: AND THEN THEY'RE GOING TO EAT US -clinging to joey still-
[ The ominous headlights pull into the alleyway. The truck seems to fill the ENTIRE THING, JUST BARELY. It's almost as though the city designers build them to be traps like this.]
JOEY: RUN!
JUDE: -HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!!-
KANKRI: -He presses his back to the wall of the container hes trapped in and is dead silent as hes listening for any sound from the others trapped in the first container.-(edited)
[ IT IS TOO LATE. They, too, are scooped. ]
[ A final clatter flings them all into the back. ]
JOHN: do you think that's them??? -panicked slightly, because he's imagining them run over by those big tire treads T___T
JOHN: HEY GUYS. CAN YOU HEAR ME? IS THAT YOU? ARE YOU ALIVE?
JOEY: gah!! nooooo!
JUDE: -JUST. YELLING.-
JOEY: =they're alive=
ROSE: It... sounds like them, yes.
ROSE: -taps on the side of the container.-
JOEY: =deep inhale= NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
KANKRI: !!!! -Hears the yelling and tapping and moves over to the wall closest to everyone else.- Yes!! F9r the time 6eing yes.
JOHN: OH....GOOD!
JOHN: UH, DON'T WORRY! I'M SURE WE'LL GET OUT OF THIS! -muffled-
[ The back of the truck, the air smells more of the chemical than the spices. It's... a much more sedate feeling. Maybe a little bit TOO sedate. The kind that makes you just want to... completely pass out unconscious for a few days. No biggie. ]
KANKRI: (I feel like I have d9u6ts a69ut that...) Are y9u all 9kay in y9ur c9ntainer-- -Wheezes and starts coughing, the spicy air back here was so much worse then it was outside, he feels dizzy. And its not long before hes blacking out.-(edited)
JAMISON: OH NO SIR! NOT MY BABIES! =goes down literally swinging=
JOHN: WE'RE...WE'RE FINE I THINK. EXCEPT...THE AIR. -cough cough cough- I think it's....uh........-Loses his train of thought. FWOOSH. He tries to fill up the small confined space with fresh air, but he only manages it once. He's already breathed too much.-
JOEY: uh....... =cough= izzit just me or do things feel a little funny to you
JOHN: -ALREADY PASSED OUT-
JUDE: -definitely passed out after screaming so much...-
#tenebrousThorns#gardylooTheroid#euphobicGeotech#gyratingEonian#effluentBalatron#circuitousgrievance
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